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End of the World: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sat, 12 Sep 2026 02:41:00 +0000

End of the World: Part 1.

Growing up in a post-apocalyptic earth.

Based on a post by j miller. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

It has been seven years since the end of the world. Or at least that is how I think of it. I had just had my seventh birthday when it started. Of course at that age I did not pay much attention to news. I was out playing with friends most of the time. My parents told most me of what I know from that period.

It started with China attempting to reclaim Taiwan in June of that year. The USA sent warships to Taiwan to discourage China because we had a treaty to protect Taiwan. China responded by sending nuclear submarines to the sea surrounding Taiwan. We enlisted the support of NATO. North Korea sent their small war fleet down the coast and anchored nearby. Britain sent their fleet in for support. A large portion of the Chinese army approached the coast across the sea from Taiwan. It was like a a little snowball starting down the hill. It started innocently enough but as it reached the bottom it was too big to stop.

By the beginning of July Dad said things looked very scary.

At this point my father had our family move to some property we had in the Northern California Mountains. He had always been something of a survivalist and had spent quite a bit of time fixing up the property in case something happened and we would need some place to go to for safety. We had a large rambling ranch house there with five bedrooms. It was high enough in the mountains to be away from everyone yet low enough so that we could grow food if necessary. The house had solar panels and a wind turbine for power. We were way too far from everyone to have power lines or even a telephone. With solar power and satellite cable we were able to watch TV and keep up with everything. The house was well stocked with canned and dry goods plus we had all the tools we would need if we ever had to grow anything. The area was well stocked with wildlife so we would have no problem hunting for game.

When we arrived we settled down pretty quickly. A tree had fallen on one wing of the house damaging two of the bedrooms. It was going to take some time to repair so we had to do some doubling up in the bedrooms. My parents took the master bedroom with my baby sister. My two older sisters, Megan and Shelly, took a second bedroom while my younger sister, Susan and I ended up in a third bedroom.

As I said, I was seven. My younger sister was six, my two older sisters were nine and ten and baby Teri was just four. Our parents were not much older than us. Mom was just 26 and Dad was 28. Mom got pregnant while in high school and dropped out at 16. As soon as she had Megan she began going to night classes to finish high school. She did very well and then went on to become a nurse. My dad was always something of a geek and became a pretty successful computer security consultant. Even though he was fairly young, he did very well and could take good care of our large family.

When we usually went to the ranch, as soon as we got there we would run all over the place to see if what had changed. There was a stream that ran through the property with some good slow deep pools. If it was summer we would strip and go swimming. This time we just went to the living room and turned on the TV, to watch the news.

Then it happened.

Even I was paying attention to the news by that point. One of our destroyers had a collision with one of China's nuclear subs. The sub's 16 hydrogen missiles were accidentally, so they said, launched against their targets in the USA. We responded within minutes, while the missiles were still in the air, with a retaliatory strike with 16 of our own missiles against China. We later found out that frantic calls were going back and forth between all the major heads of state around the world; to try and prevent this from escalating.

While they were successful in preventing any further launches it eventually did not matter. One of our missiles targeted for Shanghai missed and landed one hundred or so miles away. When tens of thousands of people began dying in the next week or so news slowly leaked out that the missile strike had damaged a weapons bio-lab and a virus was released.

By the end of July almost no news reports were coming out of China. Their radio and TV stations were just dead air. Then people began dying in the neighboring countries. Europe and the Americas closed their borders. All airlines were grounded in an attempt to stop the spread of the virus. It did not help.

By the second week of August, Europe was being decimated and we saw the first deaths begin in the USA.

As we switched channels, on our cable TV, we would see stations we used to watch leave the air and go dark. Sometimes we would find a channel where we would just see an empty set. It was as though the station was left on and everyone went away.

It took only two weeks for the virus to spread across the entire USA. By the end of August we could not find any stations, TV or radio, still broadcasting. It looked like we were the only ones left in the world. How we escaped harm I don't know. I guess it was our remote location. The road to our property was a dead-end at our place. There was no reason for anyone to even come out here; and we had not seen anyone since the first week we arrived. One family from town that we knew, came out to welcome us, but my mom and dad, while very friendly with them, did not encourage them to repeat the visit.

Dad's Demise.

There is a small town of a few thousand people, or there were a few thousand people, about 25 miles from us. My dad would drive over every couple of months on an ATV and watch the town from a ridge. Each time he would report no movement, just dead bodies in the streets. He would stay a couple of days watching the houses and roads for movement but saw nothing. From another ridge he could see into the central California valley where Interstate 5, the main north/south coastal freeway passed. Not a single car traveled on it.

It was on one of these trips, about a year after we arrived, that dad had his accident. When he did not return after a week I followed his route and found him. From the tracks it looked like a bear surprised him, or he surprised it, on the dirt road while returning and his ATV went off the road into a ravine. I had to bury him there. The ATV was destroyed and I had no way to get his body home.

As I said, it has been seven years. I'm now 14. My sisters are 11, 13, 16 and 19. We have all grown up a lot. We have had to work awfully hard these seven years. It has been easy to get meat to last us through the winter; I had gotten pretty good with my bow. But it takes a lot of work to put aside enough fruit and veggies. We tend to get up early and work in the fields, take it easy during the heat of the afternoon, and then put in a few more hours in the late afternoon before calling it a day.

It had been a long day and I was tired. My sisters were laying around in the family room watching an old movie on the VCR after dinner while I sat on the sofa reading a book. We did not have much left in the way of clothes because we have all grown up so much nothing fit us any more. Mom was the only one who usually was fairly dressed. When she joined us swimming even she would strip down bare.

Lately, For some reason; I was really beginning to enjoy watching my sisters naked. If my mother had explained sex to us I would have understood what was going on; but she was alone now and probably did not really think it was that important since we were all family. Now I wasn’t stupid. We had animals, and we all saw them mating on occasion, but seeing two animals going at it and then relating that to my sisters; was just too big of a leap at my age.

The problem for me was, I would watch them running around naked and end up with an erection. This had happened last summer when we were all skinny-dipping. I started watching my sisters while they were lying in the sun, their tits sticking up in the air. They would spread their legs so their inner thighs would also get tanned. Megan saw my cock sticking up in the air and pointed it out to the other girls. “Hey, look at Danny. He has a boner." They all began teasing me. I have been careful to avoid letting that happen again. I am over 6 ft, and the tallest of them is only 5’ 8” but they still treat me like a little brother and can tease me a lot.

As I read, I would occasionally look at them over my book. Megan and Shelly physically looked almost identical to mom now. They were very slender and had nice full tits with nipples that stuck. Susan looked pretty much the same but with smaller tits and she had just a little bit of hair between her legs. As I watched them I could feel myself stirring. I had better get to bed before it was too late. All I needed was for my cock to start waving around like a weather vane

I nonchalantly held the open book in front of me while I got up and left the room for my bedroom. Susan would be busy for another hour watching the movie so I would have some time to get rid of this erection. I couple of years ago I had discovered how much fun it was rubbing my cock when it got hard. It had been quite a surprise when that white stuff shot out of it. Later in my reading I found out it was sperm but the book did not really tell me much other than putting a name to it. I knew there was a connection between getting hard and seeing my naked sisters but I was pretty ignorant about connecting any further dots.

I lay down on the bed, closed my eyes and thought of my sisters laying naked out in the living room. Now I was rock hard. I grabbed my cock and slowly began pumping my hand up and down.

“Danny. What are you doing?” I was so focused I had not heard Susan open the door. How long had she been standing there? I quickly let go of my cock and pulled the covers up to my waist. “Nothing."

Susan was not going be put off so easily, “No. Really, what were you doing?”

There was no point in hiding it now. We had always shared everything. If I did not tell her she would just keep after me making my life a living hell until I gave in. “I was just making myself feel good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I get hard; ”

“Yes I know. I’ve seen you."

“Come on. If you want me to tell you don’t interrupt."

“Okay Go ahead."

“Well, sometimes I get hard and if I don’t do something it hurts real bad."

“What do you mean, do something, and what hurts? Why does it hurt?”

“You’re asking too many questions. My balls hurt and I don’t know why."

“Well what do you do to make it stop?”

“If I rub it with my hand for a while it feels really good and then some white stuff shoots out the end and then it won’t hurt."

“Really? You mean you pee?”

“No. It’s something different."

“Can I see it? She had moved closer and was now sitting on my bed trying to lift up the covers.

“I don’t think so." Now I was embarrassed. We had seen each other naked for years. We even slept together naked for the warmth many times during the winter. Our room was at the far end of the house and it could get very cold.

“Oh, Please?

It was hard to say no to her when she put that little pout on her face.

“Oh, all right, but just for a little bit. This is just between you and me. Okay? You know how Megan and Shelly tease me."

“Sure. Now let’s see." She then pulled down the covers. When Susan first surprised me I had quickly wilted but while we had been talking I had gotten hard again. I lay back down on my bed while she got up and sat down by my hips. I wrapped my hand around the middle of my cock and slowly started pumping up and down.

“Wow. I don’t think I have ever seen you this big before." I was having trouble thinking of anything to say. I was watching her head get closer to my cock. She reached out and put her fingers around the head of my cock. Oh. That felt so good. “Let me do it." Her fingers slowly moved down my cock replacing mine. She grabbed me tightly and moved her hand up and down my cock squeezing as she did so.

“Hey, I’m not a cow. You don’t have to milk me."

With a laugh she replied, “I don’t know about that. You said white stuff comes out." But she did change her stroke and continued the up and down movement without the extra milking squeeze. “It feels so hard but your skin is so soft."

I could not talk. I could feel it building up in me. “You have to stop or it is going to start squirting! ‘.

“I want to see it." She started moving her hand faster. My hips started lifting up off the bed. “Come on Danny. Do it!” Finally I could not take it any more and the white stuff started squirting a couple of feet up in the air. “Cool! That is neat. That has to be sperm. That is what mom said comes out of the bull’s penis when he is mounting the cows."

My heart finally was slowing down from its’ pounding. “I was going to ask mom about it one time but couldn’t. It feels so good and if it is something bad she would make me stop."

“Well I won’t tell. Can we do this again sometime? I did it right; didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did it very well."

Then mom’s voice from out in the hall caught our attention. “Hey you kids. It’s time to go to bed. Turn the lights out. We have a busy day tomorrow."

Susan jumped up off my bed. “Okay mom." She turned out the lights and then came back to my bed. She scooted up with her back to me. I tentatively put my arm across her hips with my hand on her stomach. She took my hand and slid it up to her tits. I could feel a nipple getting bigger under my fingers. Her tit felt nice. She had never done this before. She was not near as big as mom, or Megan and Shelly, but it was big enough for me.

“Next time I’ll show you what makes me feel good." As I drifted off to sleep my last thoughts were, “What did she mean by that? She did not have a cock."

The next couple of days we did not have a chance for a repeat performance. We were in the middle of winter and it looked like a snowstorm was headed our way. We had to get out and get our cattle and other livestock taken care of. We also needed to move enough wood in to last a few weeks if it ended up being a serious storm. You never knew how long a storm might last. We were dead tired each night and just went to straight to sleep.

One night, a few days after the storm passed, I had gone to bed early. I was busy entertaining myself when Susan came in. She was really tired and did not notice what I was doing. She just got in my bed, backed up against me and went to sleep.

In her sleep she kind of snuggled her ass up against me. I still had a hard-on and the head of my cock was very wet and slippery. Her moving her ass around did not help my condition. I moved my hips forward against her and my cock slid between her thighs. It felt so hot there. I slowly moved my hips back and forth rubbing my cock against the inside of her thighs. The feeling was so intense. This was so much better than my hand. I felt I would explode any second. I had to slow down. I wanted this feeling to last a while. I rolled a bit off my side so I was partially on my back and slowly pulled one of Susan’s legs over mine so it bent at the knee. Her legs were spread fairly wide now. I reached over and found my cock between her legs and started rubbing it back and forth against her crotch.

I was really enjoying the feeling when I felt Susan stir. In a sleepy voice she asked, “What are you doing?" I froze. Now what do I do. She’s going to get mad at me.

“Don’t stop. That feels good."

With her encouragement I once again began rubbing the head of my cock around. Then suddenly something weird happened. I pushed the head a little harder against her and instead of just the pressure of being pushed against her I felt her skin give and the head of my cock suddenly disappeared inside of her.

Now I know what you are thinking. I have been living with naked girls for several years now. I should have known what was going on. But I’m a guy. I was clueless.

When I entered Susan she let out a gasp. I thought I had hurt her and I quickly pulled out.

“No. Put it back." She pleaded. “That feels really good. Put it back in."

I pushed with my fingers again and the head slipped back into her. It felt so hot and tight. It made me thrust my hips forward and I sank deeper into her. I felt her move back against me and heard her moan. I moved my hands around her and cupped each of her tits. I gave them a gentle squeeze and then began rubbing my palms in circles on her nipples. She moaned louder and arched her back. This resulted in her ass jamming harder into me. Now my cock was buried up to the hilt in her. It only took a few more thrusts before I was squirting over and over inside of her. I stopped moving against her. Susan turned her head and asked, “Why are you stopping?"

“My cock squirted and it is getting soft now” I explained.

Susan reached between her legs, took my now limp cock in her hand and started rubbing it against her. It was just a minute or so before I noticed I was getting hard again. She then got a good grip on me and continued rubbing herself bet

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 5

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Thu, 10 Sep 2026 14:24:00 +0000

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 5.

It's time for a leap of faith.

Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

He pulled the box out of his pocket. He decided not to kneel, this felt right. "Rosalie, you put this song in my heart. I never knew I could love anybody, or be loved. I drowned in those big brown eyes the minute I saw them, when you poured your soul into mine. These last six weeks have been the happiest in my entire life, and I'm only sorry it didn't happen sooner."

Rosalie dried her tears, but it didn't matter because more took their place. "Ever since I first heard you play, it has been well with my soul. You have taken away my sadness. And you are so incredibly lovable, you sweet man. I want to listen to your music for the rest of my life."

James opened the ring box, and Rosalie cried harder as he slipped the delicate twinkling diamond on her tiny finger. "Will you marry me, please?" She nodded, catching her breath, before whispering "Yes. Of course." She looked at the ring, even though she didn't even care what it looked like because all she wanted was to be his. "It's so pretty," she whispered.

"I thought it was very sweet and unique. Just like you."

She kissed him. "Now, can we;" she jerked her head towards the bedroom. He laughed and swooped her up. He wasn't especially big or strong, but she was just the right size for him. He carried her to the bed and she wiped her eyes once more, physical feelings finally overtaking the emotional.

They kissed softly at first, befitting the occasion, but it didn't take long before their standard after-work lust returned. Their tongues went mad as he tried not to pop the buttons off her blouse or tear the seams as he pushed it off her shoulders while she yanked at his tie and untucked his shirt.

Their breath grew heavy and loud with the occasional grunt of frustration as the metal zipper on her tweed skirt got stuck. She couldn't unbutton his shirt fast enough, and her fingers forgot how to undo his belt buckle. He had to look when he unfastened her stockings, there was no way he could do it blind, although he had learned how to reach behind and twist her bra fastener with one hand so it snapped off quickly.

She pushed him onto his back and straddled him. She removed her garter belt and threw it, then leaned down and pressed her tits against his chest, kissing him. He used to be self-conscious about his narrow shoulders, his lack of muscles, but she relished his body.

She sat up, her pony tail swinging, inviting him to touch her. He couldn't decide on his favorite part of her body, but when she was grinding on him while he looked up at her, it was hard not to choose her tits, which fit in his hands as though they were made to measure.

Her nipples looked like little chocolate kisses, and tasted even better. He squeezed her and played with her nipples, pulling her down to him so they could drop into his mouth. He started pushing her underwear off her hips, then flipped her over on her back, tugging off her panties while she panted, unzipping his pants. He kicked them off, then lifted her legs off the bed so he could nestle his face between them.

He wasn't sure how they had figured this out, but once they did it was heaven for both of them. He ran his lips over her hairy mound before diving into her swollen, pink flesh that was already incredibly wet with her luscious nectar, grabbing her hips as she opened her knees and pressed her feet into the bed. Sometimes he started slow, but they were so worked up he just dove in, finding her hard little bud and licking it over and over as she writhed beneath him, whispering encouragement in between whimpers and grunts.

He pushed his face into her, devouring her delicious moist flesh. She let out a sound halfway between a cry and a moan as her body lurched and her thighs clamped around his head. She set him free, and as he started to lay on top of her she rolled him over again, pushing herself down onto his erect cock with a satisfied groan.

His cock was average, and he had always worried it wouldn't please a woman, which she lovingly told him was dumb. "I'm small, do you think I want a huge one splitting me in half?" Whether she was joyfully pumping her mouth on his cock or enjoying his energetic thrusting, she always moaned "It's perfect! You fit perfectly!"

They had even figured out how to make her come during intercourse when he was on top, which he had learned was a matter of skill, not size. And it didn't work for everyone. But it did for them. They couldn't believe how many ways you could have sex, and they were all excellent, as far as they could tell.

She coaxed her orgasm out, a combination of grinding back and forth, hitting the back just right, while pumping up and down that she had perfected. She needed James to play with her tits, which he was happy to oblige. Her nipples were sensitive, they had discovered the first time, and he licked his fingers, then pinched, rolled, flicked and rubbed the tips with his thumb.

Her moaning got louder and he felt that combination of joy that came from the incredible intense pleasure of her engulfing him in her warmth, pulling a climax from him the way a magician pulls a rope of handkerchiefs, more and more and faster and faster until he exploded in bliss, mixed with the look on her face that was almost like pain as she convulsed and cried out before crashing on top of him.

They laid there, panting and gasping for a while, clutching each other as they whispered a combination of post-coital pillow talk and declarations of pure love. He held her, finally, kissing her face and staring into her enormous brown eyes before she turned for him to spoon her, and they laid with their bodies pressed together, his knees folded into hers.

"Do you want; a wedding?"

"What do you mean?" Rosalie asked.

"I; figured you'd want to get married as soon as possible. But Reverend Russell started talking about music, and bridesmaids; and I realized I have no idea how much planning goes into something like that. I don't want to take a wedding away from you just because I wasn't man enough to be more careful. I know most girls dream about it."

"I dream about you." Rosalie kissed the bicep her cheek was resting on. "I just want to be with you. How soon can we get married?"

"We can get married at the courthouse the same day we get the license. But if you want Reverend Russell to marry us we can get married Saturday afternoon. Is that enough time?"

"That's fine with me. I might go buy a dress. Not a wedding dress, just something new. It would be nice to have music but I don't really like the idea of you playing at your own wedding." She laughed. "You'd have to keep standing up and walking and sitting down; maybe you should do it. It would be a great story to tell the kids."

"Kids;" he repeated softly, squeezing her and kissing her cheek. "Let's just tell him two o'clock. Do you have anyone you want to stand with?"

"I'm not super close with any of the girls here. I would hate to pick one over the other. Maybe we can just get Mrs. Russell to sign the paper."

"I wish Reverend Russell could just be my witness." James sighed. "That's what I get for not making any friends. I guess I'll think of something."

When James arrived at the church on Saturday, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar woman sitting at his place at the organ. She had white hair with the faintest touch of bluing, a kindly face and wore a pink print dress. She looked like an Easter egg. "I'm Mrs. Minkie, from First Baptist up the road. Well, Only Baptist" she chuckled. "Reverend Russell said you were needing an organist for today and I told him I'd be pleased as punch to help out. Congratulations, son. She sure is a lovely little gal and I know you'll be very happy."

Tears sprang into James's eyes as he shook her hand. Rosalie had certainly brought out his emotional side. He managed to blink them away and thanked her profusely.

"Do you have any requests?" The ceremony wouldn't start for at least a half an hour, and James lived close. "Let me just run home, I'll only be a few minutes. I didn't know you would be here." James bolted out the door and came back with some sheet music, which he thrust into Mrs. Minkie's hands. "Do you think you could play this when she comes down the aisle?"

Mrs. Minkie's eyes twinkled as she looked it over. "I think so. Do you mind if I practice a bit?"

Mrs. Russell was zipping Rosalie up in the woman's restroom. The bride had found an emerald green taffeta dress with white fur collar and cuffs at Fielder's Department Store; on discount, since it was after Christmas. She then went to the bridal shop and asked if she could purchase a simple veil, just the veil. She found one with a white fur band, and they talked her into a pair of white pumps, trimmed with little fur pom-poms, to go with it. Rosalie looked striking in green, with her dark hair and big brown eyes. She didn't want to make a big fuss with her hair but agreed to have it styled so her natural wave would have more curls as it hit her shoulders.

James had bought her a small nosegay of white roses, which she held on top of a small, white Bible Mrs. Russell had given her. She was touching up her red lipstick when she heard the organ playing a familiar song she couldn't quite place. She had met Mrs. Minkie earlier, and was happy they would have some music. She didn't want to say anything to James, but in her heart she did hope they would have someone play. It was his playing that made her fall in love with him, and there would be a big hole in the ceremony if there wasn't any music.

At two o'clock Mrs. Russell touched Rosalie's shoulder and told her it was time. She looked the bride over and felt a tear in her own eye. Rosalie was such a little slip of a thing, she looked so radiantly happy and beautiful. She shook her head thinking of James. Rosalie had changed him. No, she had brought out of him what was already there. That's what it was. A man who played the way he did had to be burning on the inside. Rosalie cracked that asbestos exterior, somehow.

Rosalie slowly walked down the aisle. Reverend Russell stood at the front, with James at his left. He had bought a new suit, with a beautiful green tie from Rosalie. Mr. Lipscomb, the caretaker, stood next to James, as his witness. Mrs. Minkie brought her grandson Ronnie along to take pictures; he was on the yearbook staff at his high school. There were no other guests.

That song; she had heard it playing through the doors; and now it accompanied her as she walked into the sanctuary. Suddenly, she realized. It was "Rosalie." Played on the organ, instead of the piano, and played by a woman who could read the notes, but could never interpret it as skillfully or soulfully as the man in love who wrote it. But it was still the prettiest song she had ever heard. Her big, brown eyes filled with tears, and she reached inside the little white bible for the handkerchief she had tucked there.

She reached the front, and James took her hand. They recited their simple vows, echoing Reverend Russell's words, and before they knew it he had pronounced them man and wife, James had kissed his brown-eyed bride, and they were walking back down the aisle. Mrs. Minkie played "It is Well With My Soul," the hymn James played the day Rosalie knew she loved him. She looked over at him, and her eyes overflowed, her tears flowed into his heart and threatened to spill out of his own eyes.

Mrs. Russell had fixed a white layer cake with a few piped on roses, and they had cleared the back room for a small reception. Reverend Russell sat down across from the couple, who were trying to show enthusiasm for the cake and the kindness they were being shown, but it couldn't outshine their passion for each other.

"So, what are you planning on doing next?" asked Reverend Russell. James almost spit out his cake, and Rosalie blushed crimson. "I mean, did you decide where to live? And if you'll keep working, Rosalie?" James swallowed his mouthful of cake. "Oh." Rosalie squeezed his hand and answered, "We've decided to live at James's for now. It's much more convenient for both of us. And I'll keep working as long as I'm able. But once the baby comes, my hands will be full for a long time."

Mrs. Russell sidled in next to her husband. "Would you like more?" James had never had so many probing questions directed at him in his entire life, and he shifted in his chair. They hadn't even talked about that yet, and they certainly weren't going to discuss it now. Then he noticed she was pointing towards the cake, and they politely refused. "I'll wrap it up and send it home with you."

Reverend Russell smiled at his wife conspiratorially. "As you know, my wife is the church secretary. It's not full time. But she's been thinking about retiring. If you want, Rosalie, she could show you around and when you feel able, you could take over her duties, if you are interested. The wages are fair, and we have a nursery here. You could bring the baby."

Mrs. Russell chimed in. "You know we don't have any children of our own. I'd be happy to watch the little one whenever you need. It would be a blessing to us."

James and Rosalie look at each other, and squeezed hands. "What a kind offer," Rosalie whispered, her eyes brimming again. "Thank you," said James. "We will talk it over, and let you know." But they both knew the other would say yes. Rosalie would even say it was an answer to prayer.

They stayed long enough to be polite, then took their coats and walked out the door, forgetting the cake, forgetting everything but each other. They decided not to go anywhere for a honeymoon, just back to James's little house. The next two Sundays the choir would sing acapella, mediocre, because he would not be there.

He carried her over the threshold, marveling, once again, at her lithe little body, how she fit so perfectly in his arms. They kissed deeply and tenderly at the door, and he carried her all the way to the bedroom, setting her down softly.

"Will you play for me, James?" He was surprised by her request, but went to the living room and began to play Clair de Lune as she quietly removed her veil and shoes, and snuck off to the bathroom. He heard her coming and switched to "Rosalie" as she came up behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek, and massaged his back as he finished playing, then stepped to the side so he could see her.

She wore a white negligee, sheer, with lace cleverly positioned as a wink at modesty. He could see her chocolate drop nipples and her dark hair peeking through the lace like a thin curtain, and he couldn't decide what was swelling more, his heart or his cock. Love was remarkable, that way.

With her hair tumbled over her shoulders she looked like an angel, a goddess. He just stared at her, dumbfounded by his luck. His blessing, she would say. "Do you like it?" she whispered, her big, brown eyes wet with emotion. He couldn't speak, he just pulled her to him, his face at her tit, kissing her hand, looking up at her radiant face, then lifting her and carrying her again.

He couldn't believe it. A year ago she had disrupted his peace, sitting in his sight line, those brown eyes rushing against the dam of his heart, breaking him, flooding him. Not even two months ago, they finally swam together in her ocean of happy tears. How could she be his bride? A man who never even had a friend was suddenly, stupefyingly, permanently entangled with a woman who defied description, except in music.

Her head was on the pillow and he hovered over her, suddenly clumsy and shy even though they had done this dozens of times. She gently rubbed his cheek, staring into his kaleidoscope eyes that had shifted to gray-green. "Kiss me, James," she whispered. The tenderness of this moment was unbearable to both of them, and they both cried, their hot tears mingling and flowing into their mouths.

She was never shy about taking charge, but tonight she just wanted him to make love to her, gently and sweetly, allowing herself to be swept away on the current he had swirled in her heart. He kissed every bit of her face, smoothing her dark hair, moving softly down her neck. There was no urgency. They had all night, all week, the rest of their lives. He admired her body through the negligee, sweeping his hands over the sheer fabric and gently squeezing her tits.

"If I forgot to tell you before, you look gorgeous. Earlier too."

She kissed him. "You did, but I forgive you. You look rather handsome yourself."

He had discarded his jacket in the living room, and she started to loosen his tie.

"Finally, a little color. Whoever bought you this tie must have exquisite taste."

He chuckled, and winked at her.

"The suit was a nice surprise, too."

James realized his drab wardrobe no longer felt like him, and decided to buy a new suit, not just for the wedding, but to celebrate his new life. It was dark tweed, but had colorful threads running through it that would pick up the hue of almost any tie, satisfying his need for practicality and her preference for a little color. And he had it tailored. Turned out in the right clothes and with a fresh haircut, James was a handsome man.

"I thought a beautiful bride deserves a half-way presentable groom."

He kissed her, breaking off long enough for her to lift his tie over his head, and she slowly began to unbutton his shirt. There wasn't much of hers to take off, so he decided to help out, unbuckling his belt and sliding off his loafers, using his toes to push down the top of his dress socks. He was still sitting on the bed just gazing at her. She was trying to just let him lead, resisting the urge to just pull him on top of her. Finally he pulled off his shirt, kicked away his pants, and laid next to his bride.

He kissed her face and neck again, and kissed her tits over her negligee, but decided enough was enough and sat her up just long enough to lift it over her head. She was naked underneath, and he took a few moments to just gaze at his lover's perfect form. There were her sweet, perfect little tits, just right for her delicate frame. They fit right in his hands.

The first time he touched them he couldn't believe the way they felt. So soft, with a little bounce, and her perky little nipples puckering against his hands. He hadn't really imagined it before, figuring he'd never have the chance, so why torture himself with the possibility? What a fool he was. But he was also glad, because Rosalie's tits were perfect, and he didn't want to see or touch anyone else's.

Her belly was soft, and her navel was adorable. He loved tickling it with his tongue when he made his way down her body, a little side trip before the main event. Her patch of dark, curly hair always made his groin surge, because of what it was hiding. He rubbed her thighs, inside and out, and ran his hands down her cute little legs and cupped her tiny feet before moving back up her body.

She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the way he lifted and squeezed her tits. He was taking them in like it was the first time he'd ever seen them. She was amused by the way men seemed hypnotized at the glimpse of a pair, and delighted by the power she wielded with them. James was already a quiet man, but the sight of her tits seemed to pull all reason from him and paralyze his tongue, at least until he bent his head down and began to lick and suck.

Everything he did to her was her favorite, but her sensitive

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 4

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Wed, 09 Sep 2026 14:23:00 +0000

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 4.

James & Rosalie fell.

Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

"How did you know? This is the one I've been looking at for months!" Rosalie held it up to her cheek. "James, it's so soft, and the colors!" She lifted it up and looked it over in the lamplight.

"It just made me think of you, and the way you have brightened my life."

"You sweet man, come here," Rosalie said, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him. "Thank you, love. It's perfect."

"Here's another little something."

Rosalie opened the small box with gleaming eyes. When she saw the little scarf clip she smiled broadly and immediately put her gifts on, preening coquettishly. "Now I can carry a little reminder of you always, not that I need reminding! How do I look?"

"Even more gorgeous, if that is possible."

Rosalie handed James two boxes with a twinkle in her eyes. He nervously opened the gift. What if hers was much better than his? What if he hated it and had to feign delight? His fears were assuaged when he opened up the first box. It was an emerald green silk tie. He lifted it up and examined it. He had never worn something so colorful, or so luxurious. He was stunned into silence.

"Do you like it?" Rosalie asked nervously.

"It's almost as beautiful as you."

"I thought it was time you put a little color into your wardrobe. This is my favorite color, and I thought it would bring out the green in your eyes. Now open the next one!"

James was stunned to see a tie bar that matched the sweater clip he had bought for her, a treble clef, minus the rhinestone.

"You see? How often does something like this happen? Your love is like music to me, darling."

James pulled her to him and gave her a long, deep kiss. When he pulled away he saw mischief in her eyes.

"I have one more surprise. Wait here."

Another?

Rosalie disappeared and James sat on pins and needles. She'd already given him two amazing gifts, and he had nothing else to give her. She was always so full of surprises. Just the fact of her was the biggest surprise of his life.

"Close your eyes!" Rosalie called from across the houses. James's heart began to race. "Open them!" James's eyes flew open, and then his mouth. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Rosalie stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen wearing a Santa Hat, a red satin bra and panties, and nothing else. She posed with one arm in the air and the other on her hip, her knees bent provocatively. She then walked over to the hi-fi and put a record on. The song "Santa Baby" by Eartha Kitt filled the room, and Rosalie began to dance, wiggling her hips, jiggling her tits, rotating her hips and bumping out her bottom. She would get close to James, and then just as he reached out for her she'd slink away.

She winked, and unhooked her bra, draping it on his head and then around his neck and dancing away when he tried to touch her. Then came the panties, which she threw at his face, and landed in his lap. He was dumbstruck. Finally, she crawled into his lap and began to leave red lipstick kisses on his face, down his neck, as he groaned and stroked her hair. She continued unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off him, pulling off his undershirt as she continued her descent down his chest and belly, tugging off his boxers and pants before lowering her head and licking him like a peppermint stick.

Remember, Rosalie had a secret, and only James knew it.

She was a very, very sexy girl.

Rosalie's Song

"I'm late, James."

Rosalie said this very matter of factly. She had no compunction about this news whatsoever, no fear.

James rubbed his head. They knew this was a possibility. The first time they made love they decided it didn't matter what happened, they were in love, and threw caution to the wind. But when it was over he realized it might have been a good idea to think things through a bit. They decided to try rubbers, which he had taken a bus to the next town over to purchase, and they both found the experience less than ideal. So he resorted to pulling out. But it probably happened the very first time.

"I'm not upset. Are you?" Rosalie smiled, pushing the hair off his forehead that had fallen into his eyes.

Six weeks ago James had finally allowed himself to love, and be loved. And what a woman to be loved by! Rosalie was full of surprises. She had always seemed quiet, and full of an un-namable sadness. It turns out she was only quiet and sad because she was lonely, and she wanted James. And when he realized he was shutting out happiness for no good reason, suddenly both of them had plenty to say, and plenty to be ecstatically happy about.

The first day he stayed at her house 'til midnight, and had to force himself to leave. He had to lead the music at church the next day, and needed his rest. He got absolutely none. He called her as soon as he got in the door to tell her he had gotten home safe, and they stayed up another hour just whispering and longing and planning for the next time they would see each other, which was only hours away. The rest of the night he laid awake, remembering everything that had happened the day before.

On Sundays he always sat in the front pew so he would be close when it came time for him to play the organ, or direct the choir. She always sat in the middle. He wondered where he should sit, where she wanted to sit, were they going to be obvious or keep their relationship a secret?

Rosalie made the decision simple. She sat in the front row, and when he sat down she sidled up to him. Not as close as she would have liked, but she touched his hand and he laced his fingers through hers. When church was over she put her arm through his, waving to the rest of the young singles who always gathered together, and left with her head on his shoulder. Everyone was dumbfounded. James looked a little dazed, himself. Only Rosalie smiled as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and eagerly whispered in his ear "Your place, or mine?"

His house was very near the church, and he decided he'd be more comfortable on the outskirts of town. It was a moot point, really. The town wasn't very big, half of the residents went to their church, and before the day was out the other half would know they were seeing each other. It took a good twenty minutes to walk to her house, and by the time they reached her front door she yanked him inside and kissed him so hard his glasses were knocked askew.

James had never dated anyone, and Rosalie had very limited experience. He was 27, she was 23, and all the lust that had been building up inside of them since puberty came roaring out like a fire hose He waited for her when she got off work everyday, and soon they decided that since his house was closer they would just go there, gossip be damned.

They walked hand in hand, walking faster and faster the closer they got, til they could see the house in the distance and they began to sprint. The minute the door shut they began to frantically undress each other for a quick, ecstatic fuck, knowing that once they had gotten it out of their system they'd be able to enjoy a slower, more sensual one later.

Rosalie was never so happy as when James was inside her. Between her legs or inside her mouth; it didn't matter. James had never even considered such a thing, but Rosalie had heard of it and decided to surprise him, and found out she enjoyed it as much as he did. They made love twice every night of the week, four times on Saturdays and three times on Sundays. She was insatiable, and he was exhausted, but since he had wasted a good ten years of his life not making love, and one year not making love to Rosalie, he figured he'd better catch up.

In between times they cooked simple meals, he played the piano for her, and they talked, learning all the things you learn when you get to know someone, and start to fall in love. They got it all out of order, but thankfully her intuition was right, and their desire for each other's bodies matched perfectly with the communion of their souls.

So they talked, and fell more deeply in love, which led them straight back to bed, or over the kitchen counter, or on the living room floor, or wherever else they found themselves when lightning struck. He walked her home every night, for the sake of propriety, and it was an absolute misery to say goodbye. They wanted nothing more than to talk until their eyes were heavy and fall asleep to the music of each other's breath.

He knew he was going to ask her to marry him, of course he was. But it was the question of when. He needed to save for a ring, of course. Would they live in her apartment, or his little rental house? And what about children? She wouldn't be able to work if they had little ones, and they'd have to take that into account. He didn't want to spoil their little love bubble with logistical questions. Not yet.

It was New Years Eve and everyone else was at a party at the church, wearing hats and blowing into noisemakers. They had stayed for a little while, but at midnight when they kissed, they were back in his bed, having just finished another delicious round of lovemaking. It was then that she made her announcement.

"Well?" She stroked his chest, and looked at him warmly. Her big brown eyes were his kryptonite.

"We knew this was a possibility." He pulled her close, her head on his shoulder, and stroked her hair.

"Are you upset?"

James looked at the ceiling. "Of course not. I am a little worried, but; no. I'm not upset."

Rosalie kissed his jaw. "Good, because I've wanted to have your baby for a long time."

"I guess I'd better go talk to Reverend Russell."

"I guess you should."

Rosalie made an appointment with her doctor the very next day. He had to send her urine off so it would take more than a week to find out for certain, but she explained her symptoms and he did a brief examination, and told her more likely than not, she was pregnant. James took some time that morning to get up the nerve to go talk to the reverend, finally taking the five steps or so it took for him to walk from his desk to the pastor's office next door, and knocked on the door frame.

Reverend Russell looked up with a smile. He was very fond of James. He would have treated him like a son, except for James's reticent nature. So he kept their relationship formal, but made sure James knew he was appreciated by him and the whole church. He nodded at James to come and sit, and was a little surprised to see James close the door. This must not have been just a question about order of service.

"What can I do for you James?

James swallowed. He hadn't talked about Rosalie with anyone, there was no one for him to talk to. He had no friends, and he barely had a family, and he certainly wasn't going to call his mother long distance just to hear her tell him, once again, what a disappointment he was to her.

"Well, uh, sir, I guess you probably know I've been seeing Rosalie."

Reverend Russell tried not to beam at James. He was very happy to see this young man entangled with such a lovely girl, and he felt that fatherly swell inside, but tried to keep it professional.

"Indeed. I think everyone has noticed. And we are all very happy for you. Rosalie is a fine girl, and you two make a lovely couple."

James smiled slightly and his cheeks reddened.

Reverend Russell continued. "I think everyone knew she was rather sweet on you for a while."

That's the kind of information that, at one time, James would have found humiliating for no reason at all. He was starting to realize that the fact that a beautiful girl was in love with him wasn't something to hide. He wondered where he'd ever picked up the notion. He smiled a little more.

"Yes, well; sir. We'd like to get married."

Reverend Russell pretended to be solemn. "Rather soon, don't you think?"

Now James really was embarrassed. He looked up at the ceiling before answering. "Well; uh; I've known her for a year. I'm older than her, you know. A lot of guys my age have already settled down. We really don't want to wait. When you find the right person;"

"Alright then. What were you thinking? June? Everyone loves a June bride."

James shifted uncomfortably.

"Well sir; we were hoping as soon as possible."

Reverend Russell cocked his head and gave James a knowing look.

"It; needs to be as soon as possible." James looked up at him, pleading silently.

"I see." Reverend Russell sat back and folded his hands.

"I understand if you don't want to; we can just go to the courthouse; I just know she'd prefer it here." Suddenly James sat up very straight. "You aren't going to fire me, are you?"

Reverend Russell chuckled. "No, son. I'm not going to fire you. 'No temptation has overtaken you except that which is common to man.' You aren't the first couple in the world, or even this congregation, to put the cart before the horse, so to speak."

James relaxed. "I'll go see about getting the license, and I'll let you know." He started to get up.

Reverend Russell indicated he should stay, and James looked at him curiously, but sat back down.

"How long have you been here, James?"

"Five years, sir."

"And you plan to stay here at this job and in town?"

"Yes sir. I never thought about going anywhere else."

"You've done a fine job, James. The choir has never sounded better, and your organ playing is top notch. We're all very thankful for you." Reverend Russell paused, took off his glasses and polished them while he spoke. "It's about time you got a raise." James's eyes widened.

"Now, we aren't a wealthy church, but our parishioners are faithful givers, and it doesn't hurt that there are only two churches in town." He chuckled. The Baptist church could have hardly been more different. James wondered what his situation would be if he had landed a job there. Well, he wouldn't have met Rosalie, anyway.

"The board and I have already discussed it. Five years is long enough without a bump in pay, and we could all see you and Rosalie weren't a little fling. I don't think we were expecting you to get married so fast, but it doesn't change anything." He told James the amount, and tears sprung into James's eyes.

James wasn't one for outward emotion. Indeed, he had stuffed his down for so long he scarcely knew he had any at all, until Rosalie. Now here he was, tearing up in front of his boss! It did not go unnoticed by Reverend Russell. The raise was enough that he felt less worried. Reverend Russell stood, and put his hand on James's shoulder. "Now, young man, why don't you get to the courthouse and find out about that license."

James hurried to the courthouse and learned he and Rosalie could obtain one and be married the same day, if they wanted. Her office was on the square so they could go register for one over her lunch. He then went into a dusty old pawnshop, and asked to see the rings. He found an older set with a simple design. The diamonds weren't very big, but it was what he could afford. Besides, Rosalie was a tiny thing, and anything bigger would swallow up her hand. He hoped she would like it. He thought it was pretty, even if the style was old-fashioned. She was unique, she wouldn't want the same ring as every other girl. The man's band was very plain, and it fit him without any adjustments. James wrote a check for the full amount, and left with a small velvet box burning his hip.

"Is Saturday alright?"

Reverend Russell smiled at James. "Yes, I have time in the afternoon. Do you know what you want as far as a service goes? Who your witnesses are? I supposed you aren't going to play the organ at your own wedding."

The color drained from James's face. A wedding. Not just signing papers. Of course. He didn't have any idea what Rosalie wanted. He assumed she wanted to get married as soon as possible. Did she want a wedding dress? A bridesmaid? Did he need a new suit? Did she want to invite the whole church? This could take time, time he wasn't sure he had. When do women start to show? He remembered someone slyly saying "The first baby can come at any time. The rest take 9 months."

"I; I'll ask her. Thank you."

James sat and pondered for a bit. He had the rings, but now he realized that he really ought to officially propose. He was a man of few words, Rosalie did most of the talking. It didn't matter that he knew she'd say yes. He wanted to be romantic, to really show her how much she meant to him. He'd get down on one knee, of course. That's what you did, even though he had no idea why.

Both of her parents were dead, there was no one to ask for permission. Rosalie would have laughed at that anyway. She had made up her mind a long time ago that James was the one for her, and not even James had the power to stop her. "Thank God," he thought, smiling.

God. James was never really sure if he believed in God or not. He was raised in church, so the rhythms were familiar. He had lived a virtuous life simply by not having much interest in vice of any kind. The only real sin he had committed as an adult was premarital sex, and it really only bothered him because, at least on the outside, the world frowned on that sort of thing. But it didn't worry his conscience at all. He attended church because it was his job, and he probably wouldn't miss it if he didn't go.

Rosalie was different from him. She too, had no guilt about pre-marital sex, but it was because she considered love a gift that she had been denied too long to worry about formalities. Adam and Eve weren't married by a Reverend, after all. She was an orphan, and the church had taken her in after the death of her parents. And she loved it. She loved the opportunities to volunteer, socializing with the pleasant young people, and sitting in contemplation. The first thing she did when she moved to their small town was look at the two churches available to her, and pick the one that felt like home.

"It didn't hurt that the organist was a cute, shy little man who looked like he needed someone to wrap him up and feed him soup." She hugged him as she giggled, and he laid his cheek on the top of her head and squeezed her back. He didn't know he needed that, how did she? She knew everything.

Somehow, when she looked at the job board at her secretarial college, she saw clearly that this little town was where she belonged. Some place she'd never heard of. And so she got on a Greyhound bus. "Leap of faith," she said as she kissed him. She had found her home, and her love. "Of course I believe in God. He gave you to me. It just took you a while to hear that still, small voice."

Suddenly James knew exactly how he wanted to propose, but he was still tied up in knots about the wedding. He wanted to give her whatever she wanted. She would look so pretty in a white veil and dress, like she was walking in from the mist. Was she even allowed to wear white?

James had played the organ at many weddings, but they always sprung fully formed in front of him. He had never once thought about planning. He'd never even planned a birthday party. Whenever he was needed for an extra activity at church they just handed him some sheet music and

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Tue, 08 Sep 2026 14:22:00 +0000

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 3.

James and Rosalie celebrate their first Christmas together.

Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Rosalie was known around town for being an exceptional young lady.

She was kind, smart, and resourceful. She loved beauty without frivolity, loved music and art without pretension, and was kind without being phony. She enjoyed volunteering with the children at her church, and socializing with the young people. Mini-golf, bowling, going to the movies; Rosalie was a fun and friendly person, and everyone who met her found her to be a pleasing person to spend time with.

But Rosalie had a secret.

It was no secret that she loved James, the church organist and choir director. She had clearly pined for him for a good long time before he took notice. No one outside the two of them knew what had happened. One day her eyes were melancholy, and full to the brim with unrequited love that James seemed quite oblivious to. The next they were walking arm in arm, her brown eyes and his gray (or were they green, or blue?) eyes locked on one another in a trance that no one could break. They were inseparable. Rosalie remained as sweet and friendly as ever, but all of the attention she used to divide up between being alone and going out with friends was now focused completely on her beau.

When they first fell in love they knew little about one another except from snatches of information picked up from overheard conversations and vague pleasantries. But now they were fully immersed in the ocean of each other's pasts, dreams, hopes, and all the silly little consistencies and rhythms of their lives. So where others saw a pleasant girl and a shy man, they saw each other fully formed, with love that penetrated down to their souls like x-rays. They loved each other inside and out. They knew everything about each other. James was the only one who knew her secret, which was this.

Rosalie was a very sexy girl.

James was astounded when he found this out. She was cute, and spritely, with dark shoulder length hair she often wore in a swinging ponytail, and a scattering of freckles across her nose. Her big brown eyes were incredibly expressive, and where they once were full of sorrow now they sparkled with joy every moment she was in his presence. She was tiny, a bit elfin. James was not a large or strong man but he could easily scoop her up and enjoyed doing so. The first word most people would think of her would be "cute."

And she was. But she was also sultry, and uninhibited. And like most girls her age, who were raised to be polite, sweet, and good, she was a little bit at war with herself. Not at first. She and James fell into bed almost immediately upon expressing their feelings, and she didn't feel a bit guilty. But when they had only been together a few days she began to struggle with the way their desire, especially hers, began to intrude on regular life.

One day early on they flew through the door, slamming it behind them. "I can't wait," she gasped, working his belt buckle. "Just do it here." She pressed herself against the door, pulling him towards her, then started to frantically unbutton her blouse, pushing her bra up over her tits. He unzipped his pants and let them fall, pushing his hand up her skirt to feel her wet panties and rub her hot little clit, taking a tit into his mouth. She held his head as he switched nipples, then gasped.

"I'm ready. Please." He pushed up her skirt, and she frantically tugged at his boxers. He lifted her, holding her against the door with one hand and pulling her underwear aside with his other, guiding his stiff cock into her desperate cunt, thrusting up as he held her up with his hips and knees. "It's; so; good," she cried, each word punctuated by a hard thrust. Her body was tiny but her lust was enormous, and it wasn't long before his hard, slow, thrusts unraveled her and she came loudly, then dropped to her knees and pushed him against the door, swallowing every drop of his salty elixir of life.

Rosalie broke away, and James leaned against the door, panting. He saw her turn away to adjust her brassiere, an odd nod to modesty in light of the situation. Then she looked up at him with those big, brown eyes of hers, sliding her arms up to clutch his bare thighs. For the first time ever, he saw something akin to shame on her face. She was crimson, the tears coming down were not her usually happy tears, or the silent, sad ones from before. She slid her arms down and wrapped them around his knees, shuddering.

"I don't know how to live like a human being anymore. A regular person with a regular job and a regular life. I think about you all day, every minute we are apart. I want you every second. I can scarcely think of anything else. I'm scared I'm going to make a mistake and start to type up the things I want to do instead of the things I'm supposed to do." She took a deep breath. "On the way home, I can barely last the walk." She stood up on her knees, pressing her cheek against his belly, kissing the point of his hip, tears pooling in his navel.

James slid down and sat on the carpet next to her, his pants and underwear still around his ankles. He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her cheeks and smoothing her hair. "I know. I'm struggling too. I thought about you all day. I stayed in my office, I only stood up when I knew no one was near so they wouldn't see. I was so tempted to just; take care of it in the bathroom, you know? But I didn't want to get caught, and I wanted to save it for you."

Rosalie laughed a little. "You don't even do that."

"I know! But that's how wound up you've got me." He tucked his finger under her chin and had her look up at him. "It won't always be like this. Eventually it will even out."

Rosalie sighed. "I'm not sure I want it to. What if that means we aren't as in love as we are now?"

"Sweetheart, even poets have to eat and do the dishes. I think it starts this way for most people, but they find a rhythm. We will too."

"I'm sure you're right."

"Right now, let's try and keep our work and private life separate. Do you think we can?"

She nodded, not very convincingly.

He paused, an idea coming into his head. "Say, your office is so close by; what if we just came back here every afternoon? 15 minutes for lunch, 20 minutes for dessert? That leaves 25 minutes for walking and talking."

"Maybe, but we do need to make sure to eat real food, or we won't have energy for dessert!"

James laughed, standing up and pulling up his boxers and pants. Then he helped his sweetheart stand up, adjusting her blouse and buttoning it up as she straightened out her skirt. The act of dressing each other was almost as romantic as undressing.

He was right. After a few more days it became a little easier to get through the day knowing the harder she concentrated on her job, the faster the day would go, and she could be with her lover. She took joy in surprising him. One day he let himself into her apartment and followed a trail of clothing to her bedroom, like breadcrumbs. Another time he walked into his own house, following the smell of fresh baked cookies to Rosalie standing in the kitchen wearing a ruffled apron and nothing else.

James could hardly believe his luck. He had spent the first 27 years of his life alone. Mostly friendless, neglected by his family, and certainly never romantically attached. To not only fall in love, but to be loved by someone so passionate; it made his mind reel, not to mention his body. She was a gift in every possible way.

Christmas was coming up. James was completely baffled about what to get her. What kind of gift is right for the person who is everything? What could a poor music director afford that would be even remotely right for his beautiful, perfect girl?

James once again cursed his inexperience. Not that he was sorry she was the only one for him, but at how ignorant he could be. It was one thing when they were experimenting with each other's bodies. He had even learned to tell her his feelings with words, and he played her favorite songs on the piano. But how did you buy a girl a present?

He really didn't know when he would do it, either. They had started spending their lunch hours together. How could he be sneaky? He had to come up with some excuse.

In the end Rosalie made it easy on him. She told him she had a lot of extra work to do coming up on the holidays and she didn't want to fall behind so she decided to work through lunch. James sighed with relief, and headed to Fielder's Department Store.

He had been there a handful of times to buy his own clothes, mostly new socks and underwear, and a couple of new dress shirts when his old ones became frayed at the cuffs. All of his shirts were white, both of his suits were shades of beige and brown, and he had one pair of dark brown leather wingtips. Even his ties were beige. He had purchased all of them before he moved 5 years ago. His aim was simplicity, and to blend into the background. It hadn't worked on Rosalie. She saw the color in him he had tried so hard to hide.

James considered buying something new for himself, but when he looked at the dizzying array of silk ties and pocket squares he felt completely out of his element. Maybe Rosalie could help him sometime. Her own clothes were colorful and tasteful, she would probably enjoy dressing him. He smiled at the thought, and headed towards the women's department.

He was at the very back of the store, and when he stepped across the aisle he found himself surrounded on all sides by mannequins dressed provocatively in sheer, silky undergarments. He turned red when he realized he had seen some of these on Rosalie herself. When they first got together she wore white cotton, but she quickly traded them in for satin and lace; red, black and pink. It was incredibly sexy and he found himself growing hard at the thought. He pulled at his collar and rushed off, hoping to hide himself until it went away. But instead he ran directly into Mrs. Patton, the manager of the ladies' department, almost knocking her over.

James was mortified, but Mrs. Patton was an old hand. This wasn't the first time she had to calm down a nervous suitor. She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm and he was relieved to note that in the kerfuffle his erection had calmed down.

"Now, young man, how can I help you?" She, of course, knew exactly how she could help him but she had been in the business long enough to know how to sell exactly what her customer needed, and make them believe it was their own idea at the same time.

"I; I need a Christmas gift for my girlfriend. I've never bought a gift for a girl and;"

"You're seeing Rosalie, aren't you? That sweet little gal that works for Mr. Cullen?"

James swallowed, trying to pull the heat from his cheeks down into his chest. "Yes ma'am."

"She's a lovely girl. You are a very lucky young man."

That was it. James wasn't exactly embarrassed, but his cheeks were going to stay red the rest of the afternoon, he was certain. Talking about Rosalie just seemed so intimate, as if even saying her name would cause their entire relationship to flash in a movie screen above his head.

"Thank you. I think so."

"And a lovely girl like her deserves a lovely gift. You've come to the right place. What were you thinking? A piece of jewelry? Maybe a watch?"

Rosalie had a watch, a gift from her foster mother when she graduated from high school. She was very sentimentally attached to it. And jewelry? That completely stymied him. He had seen her wear some, she was a smart dresser, but he had no confidence that he could pick something out without veering too garish, or too simple. He shook his head.

Mrs. Patton's lip curled at one corner. "What about a silk scarf? We have a wide array, and all the latest prints. Now tell me, what is her favorite color?"

James's mind went completely blank. He had no idea. She was always colorfully adorned, but green; that was the color she wore the most. Her winter coat was a bright green.

"Green? I think?"

"What shade of green?"

James began to turn green himself. Why did this have to be so difficult?

Mrs. Patton directed him to a display of silk scarves in every color of the rainbow, and began to pull out the green ones. "Here's Kelly, forest, sage;"

James suddenly reached out and took one from the display. It was multi-colored in jewel tones. Ruby red, emerald, peacock blue, goldenrod, and plum that looked like dabs of paint, and gold metallic thread woven through it. It was heavy, and it felt rich.

"What about this one?"

"It's very expensive."

James bristled. This woman had no business telling him how to spend his money! He looked at the price tag and tried not to let it show on his face. It was more than he intended to spend, but since he'd never bought a girl anything before he decided it was okay to go a little crazy at Christmas, just this once.

"I can afford it."

"It takes a special woman to pull off a scarf like that."

The gall of this woman! "Rosalie is special," said James, firmly.

"She is, that I can see. And she is always a very well-dressed young lady. I think that's an excellent choice. You are a man of distinction, you have done well. Now, should we wrap this up, or can I interest you in a scarf clip to go with it?"

James didn't know there was such a thing, but he nodded and she showed him an assortment. At first he was overwhelmed by the choices, but suddenly a treble clef came into focus, with a small rhinestone on the flourish. "This one."

"Is Rosalie a musician?"

"No. I am. I thought maybe she so would think of me. Is that okay?"

Mrs. Patton smiled. "I think she'll love it. Would you like these gift wrapped?"

James nodded, relieved that he didn't have to fumble his way through that. He had talented fingers in more ways than one, but he was never good at wrapping gifts, something his mother complained about every time he gave her something.

James walked out with a spring in his step, lost in thought, when he bumped into another person on his way out. It was Rosalie, who turned crimson when she saw him. She was also carrying two gift-wrapped packages. "I; I got done early," she said, her face telling the truth even when her lips didn't. Mrs Patton watched them walk away with a twinkle in her eye. They were such a cute couple, and James picked out the exact scarf Rosalie had been pining for ever since they put it on the sales floor.

It was the last rehearsal for the Christmas Eve pageant, and James had run into a problem. Little Shirley had developed stage fright. The little girl who lost her ladybug button wasn't in her spot, or any other child's spot either, and instead of practicing everyone in the sanctuary was calling her name, to no avail.

Shirley's mother had died recently, and her father wasn't in the picture, so she was living at an orphanage. A converted school bus came and picked up all the children in town who would like to go to church and didn't have transportation, and Shirley became a favorite of all the congregants. She was sweet, and quiet, with big, expressive brown eyes, not unlike Rosalie's. All the older ladies wanted to sneak her gum during church, and it wasn't unusual for one of them to pull out a handkerchief and a ballpoint pen to show her how to make a doll out of her thumb, or how to fold her hands to make a church, a steeple and all of the people.

But there were no old ladies tonight. Just a lot of elementary school children being herded by their mothers while wearing their father's bathrobes, with beards drawn on with grease pencils and pillow cases tied around their heads. Except for the angels, who wore gowns made of worn, white bed sheets and wings made of tinfoil wrapped around wire hangers. There were always a few little ones who saw the sea of people in the pews and got nervous, but usually they could be coaxed out by reminding them there would be cookies and punch in the back room later.

This case of nerves was especially concerning for two reasons. Number one, there wasn't a sea of people. They were rehearsing, and the only adults there were the parents of children who were too little to be away from their mothers. Baby Jesus, and a couple of lambs done up adorably in faded blanket sleepers and little hoods covered in cotton balls. So it was unlikely Shirley was experiencing actual stage fright. Secondly, they had given Shirley a very important part. She was the Angel of the Lord.

The adults had the idea that maybe Shirley was being looked over at her foster home and school, and they wanted her to feel special. The Angel of the Lord didn't have any lines, since they were doing a tableau with narration and music, but the role required the child to look very solemn as they stood tall on a stepladder behind the stable, pantomiming to the shepherds with a foil star on a dowel rod down towards the manger.

Shirley had been very excited and took her role very seriously until right now. Suddenly she wasn't in her place, and everyone called her name and looked behind the pulpit and altar when James spotted a patent leather Mary Jane poking out from under one of the pews. He bent down and saw two brown eyes peeking out at him, which immediately screwed shut, as if not seeing James would make her invisible too.

"Shirley," he said, kindly but firmly, "It's time for rehearsal. We need you to come do your part." Silence. "Everyone is counting on you." More silence. "If you don't come out, we'll have to find another actor to take your place." At that, Shirley shrieked and kicked her legs but did not come out. "No, no, no!" she cried. James wasn't sure if she was saying no to coming out or no to someone else doing her part, but he was at a loss.

He stood up, thinking for a moment. He turned to one of the older children dressed as a shepherdess, and said "Go find Rosalie."

Rosalie was with Mrs. Russell in the back room, watching over the babies and toddlers who were as of yet too young to be in the program. Mrs. Russell was setting out Dixie cups of red Kool-Aid and graham crackers on napkins while Rosalie herded the little ones to the small table. When the children were settled and making a tad less ruckus, Mrs. Russell decided to ask Rosalie the burning question that had been on everyone's mind.

"So, how is James?"

Rosalie's cheeks turned pink, and she gave a Mona Lisa smile. "He's quite well."

"He seems to be. I think everyone is happy for the two of you. And quite curious."

Rosalie didn't say anything, just continued smiling in her enigmatic way, her big brown eyes twinkling. They were always a reliable barometer to her mood, and said more than her voice ever could.

Mrs. Russell couldn't figure out how to ask what she wanted to know, and she realized that it was none of her business, but she just couldn't resist continuing.

"Well, I hope you are as happy as you appear to be."

Rosalie chuckled. "How happy do I appear to be?"

It was Mrs. Russell's turn to chuckle. Rosalie and James were both slippery as eels when it came to wrangling information. She had to admit defeat.

"Very happy."

"Good," said Rosalie. "Because it's true. I couldn't be happier."

"James has always seemed like a good man, and he de

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Mon, 07 Sep 2026 14:21:00 +0000

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 2.

James & Rosalie spend their first day together as lovers.

Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Rosalie and James laid on her bed, breathing hard, when he started to laugh incredulously. What had just happened? Had a life-long hermit, purposely indifferent to girls and romance and the possibility of ever, ever falling for someone, just made desperate, passionate love? And not just to any girl, but the sweetest little garden sprite imaginable? Was he actually thinking in metaphors? Is that what love does?

Rosalie popped her adorable face up to his and giggled. "Oh, that was wonderful. Let's do it again!" He was still gasping for breath between little spurts of laughter. He pulled her face to his and kissed her with a hearty smack that made her giggle even more as she laid her head on his chest. Her hand snuck down and he grabbed her wrist. "Not yet," he wheezed. She tilted her head to the side and made a pouty face, then kissed him; first sweetly then passionately, moving her tongue against his and humming like she was enjoying a particularly delicious treat.

"Are you really ready to go again?" James's eyes were bulging.

Rosalie sat up cross-legged. "I think so. Of course, you did most of the work; this time." She stroked his face and looked lovingly at him, then laid back down with her head on his chest. "Oh, hold me please. I can't stand not having every bit of you against me."

He was thrilled to acquiesce, rolling to his side and laying her head against his arm so he could look into those enormous brown eyes, finally giving himself permission to memorize them, and every inch of her.

"I can't believe this happened," he whispered.

She kissed him again. "I can. I've never wanted anything so much. I've been dreaming about it for months."

"Was it; what you hoped?" James was nervous. Even though she seemed to be having a grand time, and he was pretty sure he had made her climax when he touched her below, he was still insecure. He was just so; average. Medium build, a boring face and the world's most ordinary cock. But her face when he was in her seemed very happy, and she squealed and gasped as he moved, just making it up as he went along, trying to settle into a rhythm.

"Um hmm," she nodded slyly. "Better, even."

They could barely stop kissing to converse. They sometimes only got a word or two out at a time, their lips punctuating like commas. James was very surprised by her. He knew girls could be very romantic, but he didn't know they could be that enthusiastic about sex. She had immediately tried to drag him to her bedroom, and when he finally felt comfortable enough to go she was yanking his pants off like they were running out of time. She seemed to love every minute, and she was already ready for seconds?

"Was this your; first time?"

Rosalie seemed a little offended, but decided not to spoil things by getting too put out. "Of course. You are the first person I've ever been in love with. Couldn't you tell?"

James remembered it hurt her a little, and it took a bit of doing to push through, but he really didn't know if it was always like that or just the first time.

"I; don't really know. I've never even kissed a girl before. I never expected to, so I didn't really try to; learn anything."

Rosalie's eyes became sultry. "Well, you're a quick study," she whispered, kissing his neck. "I didn't know if I'd be able to come the first time. It must be because you are a pianist. Those long fingers of yours know how to touch the keys just right." James felt himself growing hard again as his eyes widened and his cheeks burned. Who was this girl? He fell in love with her sweetness, her gentleness, and the way her eyes seemed to reach straight into his soul. Well, she was always a bit of an enigma, and this was a delightful surprise.

He rolled on top of her, and kissed her slowly and sensuously. She was right, he was a fast learner. He nipped her neck, and moved down slowly kissing and licking her nape, her chest. He was just doing what he wanted, and it was what she wanted too. They were perfectly in tune. He kissed his way down to her tits, and her breath caught when he pulled one into his mouth, sucking and nibbling while his hand toyed with the other one, squeezing it and playing with her hard nipple.

"James," she quietly gasped. "Oh; oh;" Her voice collapsed into a strangled sound as he switched tits and began to fondle the other nipple, wet from his tongue, stiff and swollen. Rosalie's responses were ecstatic, and she spread her legs so he could move his other hand down to her soft, slippery cunt. He was excited that he had made her come earlier from touching her little nub, and couldn't wait to try again.

Rosalie's sounds were almost like crying. She was so desperate, it was hard for her to tell him what to do, and he tried to remember. The left side seemed more sensitive, and she moaned when he used his pointer and middle finger to flutter against it. Her breath grew more ragged, her face contorted, she grunted almost in frustration but he could tell he was doing it right. He took one of her tits into his mouth again and she let out a sound almost like she was in pain.

"Harder," she whispered, straining. She started making little staccato grunts. "Faster" she gasped and he could tell she was trying hard to be still, to not disrupt his rhythm. Her little bud was so hard, so slippery. His own erection was almost unbearable, he got more and more aroused as he watched her little body squirm. He kept sucking her nipple and her voice got louder. Suddenly her whole body leapt, her back arching, her hips thrusting against his hand. She let out a final cry, covering her face with her hands. He let go of her nipple with a pop and she moaned, her voice strained. "Please. I need you."

He slid into her with no resistance and she thrust against him, holding him as though she were afraid he would slip away. He tried to be more deliberate this time, moving slower and finding a rhythm, like he did when he was rubbing her. Soon she joined him, pushing her hips up when he thrust down. "Kiss me," she moaned, and he smashed his mouth into hers, their tongues thrusting in time.

Satisfied that she was enjoying herself, James concentrated on his own pleasure. He was overwhelmed, there were so many things happening at once. His tongue in her mouth, her tits pressed against his chest, her hands gripping the back of his hair, her feet against his ass. The feeling of being inside her was indescribable.

Something in the back of his head told him men were supposed to try and last, but he couldn't begin to figure that out right now. His body was on autopilot, chasing after the ultimate sensation. He slammed harder and she gasped out his name, alternating with "Yes!" He hit his peak and exploded inside her, trembling and collapsing against her. He had never felt anything like it in his life. He could live forever inside her tight, pink softness and never grow weary.

He lifted his head and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips were moving like they were trying to speak but nothing was coming out. Every time he looked at her, she was more beautiful than the moment before. Tears started streaming down her face. "Oh James; I love you. I love you." She kept saying it, over and over, and he kissed her face, finally lifting up part of the sheet to gently dab them away. He knew tears were her default emotion, but he still worried about it. He wondered if he would ever stop worrying about everything.

"Rosalie; are you alright?"

She nodded, and then burst in tears anew. "I'm just so happy that it hurts. My heart is aching even more than before."

He teared up as well. "Me too. Oh Rosalie. How did this happen?"

"I prayed for you. Every night after my parents died, I prayed that I would find him. That I wouldn't be alone anymore. I saw you, and I wondered if maybe it was you. It wasn't the first time, I had been looking for years. The first touch of your hands to the organ keys I felt a bolt of lightning go through me. The first note. It happened all at once. I saw your hands move, I saw your face, I heard something beyond just the notes. And when our eyes met, I knew for sure."

She kept sobbing. "But it wasn't happening. You kept moving farther and farther away from me. It hurt so bad, James. I loved you more and more every time I saw you, and you wouldn't even look at me. I thought perhaps I was crazy, thinking you could love me. Today was our last chance. What if you didn't come? I don't even want to imagine it."

"I don't either. Oh Rosalie. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I was hurting myself, if that makes you feel any better."

She laughed. "Maybe a little bit. You deserve it."

"I do. I do. I accept it. I was a fool."

"Why, James? Why were you so closed off?"

"I; I don't know." James grimaced a little bit. He had tried to forget most of his life before he came here, and he had been successful, for the most part. "I just felt like nothing, and why would something want nothing?"

"How can you say that?" Rosalie reached up to touch his face." You are a talented musician, and you are a good man. I know you are. Unless you have some dark, hideous secret I don't know about."

He smiled wryly. "No. Nothing salacious. Nothing at all. Lots of people can play the piano. It's really; it's the only thing I'm good at. Maybe that's it. I wasn't a great pupil, or popular. I just; faded. My family never seemed very impressed with me. I didn't have a lot of friends, and I just sort of; decided; that I was meant to be alone."

"Darling, that doesn't make any sense. Look at all the gross, piggish men in the world who are married. And all the ordinary ones. Most people aren't very exciting, but they manage to find someone who is excited by them." She smiled, and kissed him. "I am; extremely excited by you."

"I'm trying to accept that. This still doesn't feel real."

"Why don't you just tell me you are excited by me, too?" She tilted her head flirtatiously.

James grabbed her face and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth. "There, how's that?"

She frowned teasingly. "I still want you to say it."

"Rosalie." He began to alternate kissing her neck, her lips, her shoulders. "I have never been so turned on in my life. I couldn't look at you before, because the second I saw your big brown eyes something else would get big too." James chuckled, and gently bit her shoulder, causing her to shiver. "I couldn't get comfortable. I couldn't say I wanted you, I didn't even think it to myself. But I did, and I do, and I always will. You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."

Rosalie's eyes were clouded by desire, and she whimpered a little. "Go on."

"Did you know I had never seen a woman's tits before?"

"Not even in pictures?

James blushed. "Well; once an older boy in the neighborhood tried to show me some magazines, but it made me sick to my stomach, and I tried to forget what I saw. There was something about their faces that felt horrible to me." James looked down at Rosalie's tits and began to work his way down, kissing them. She took a deep breath and sighed.

"Then I saw yours and I was so happy, because they are perfect. I don't ever want to see any others. Your nipples look like chocolate kisses, and I want them to just; melt in my mouth. They taste better than chocolate though." He licked one nipple, then the other. Rosalie closed her eyes and took a quick breath.

"James; I; I want you to know how good it feels." He held her tits and began to alternate quick little licks right on the tip of her nipples, teasing her, and she let out a shuddering breath. "Oh; oh god;" Rosalie never swore, but it was almost like she was praying. For him to stop, or continue, or in thanks and praise for the joy of this blessing. "I; I;" She made a sound like she was thirsty and finally drank some water. He caught her nipple gently between his teeth, and ran his tongue over it. She put her hands over her face. "How; how are you doing that? How do you know?" He could see her start to writhe.

"I'm just doing what I want," he whispered, and he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked lightly, rubbing the other one between his thumb and forefinger. He alternated this for a while, interjecting the teasing, light bites that made her gasp. He was really starting to enjoy the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her.

"Can you; are you ready to?" She was panting, and he knew from the movement of her hips that she was ready for another round. But his own cock was spent.

"I can't yet; but I would love to touch you again." And he decided to tease her a little more. He stroked her soft hairs over her puffy mound. She grimaced. He stroked her where her thighs met her hips, running his fingers over her belly button and down right under her soft belly to the expanse above her vulva. He rubbed each side of her outer lips, stroking with one finger, tickling her softly, and she hissed and thrust her hips up. Finally he stroked her pussy very slightly, up and down, gently dipping in a little farther with each pass.

"Please;" she groaned.

"Please what?" James felt utterly wicked, watching his beloved shudder and squirm.

"Please; please touch me."

"I am touching you."

"Touch me on the top; you know where."

He touched her on the top of her vulva, on the outside.

"Here?"

She whimpered. "You're being cruel."

He chuckled. "Am I?"

She grabbed his hand and thrust it on her clitoris. "Here! Oh please, please!"

He gently stroked her, almost soothingly. "Ah. Why didn't you say so?"

"James; please rub me."

"I am rubbing you."

Her voice was catching. She was so red, so swollen, so incredibly wet. He was fascinated. He didn't know anything about this even this morning, and now he was learning not just how to arouse his lover, but drive her mad. He had no idea how much fun he'd been missing.

"James!" She cried out, wiggling her hips.

"Shush," he whispered, and he began to move his fingers in little circles around the firm little bud. He dipped his fingers down for more wetness, and she drew her legs up, her feet almost to her hips. "Yes; that's it;" she whimpered.

"It's so beautiful," he whispered as he gently rubbed her. "It looks like rose petals, covered in dew. I could write an entire symphony just about this part of your body." Rosalie moaned, her hands gripping the sheets. This new movement seemed to be working, and when he talked he could feel a new rush of wetness each time. Her mouth was open and her eyes; she looked like she was in a completely altered state. He decided to just keep doing what he was doing, not changing his pace, or pressure, or angle. And he decided to keep talking to her.

"Hmm; do you like this, honey?" Rosalie let out a pained squeak. "That's right, kitten. Just enjoy yourself." Kitten? It was utterly bizarre how being in love, and lust, brought all kinds of endearments and expressions that would have felt completely foreign to him before. He had practically considered himself asexual up til that morning and now he was pleasuring a nubile goddess for the third time that day, and talking her through it like he was her skiing instructor or something.

The word kitten definitely did something to her, he could feel her stiffen when he said it, and she flushed even deeper. He kept up the circles, his long, limber fingers used to repetitive movement. He suddenly had an idea, and moved his fingers down, using the heel of his hand to keep pressure on the little bud. At first she made a little cry of disappointment, but then she felt one of his long, slender fingers enter her and start to move in and out and her cry quickly turned into a sigh.

"Is that good, baby?" She nodded, her face contorting. She looked like she was hurting, and he knew now that was a great sign. He felt something at the back of her, a little rough spot, and he crooked his finger towards it and began to rub it more deliberately, testing it. She jumped, and then began to move her hips a little.

"Hmm;" she sighed, and he slipped another finger in, still grinding on her hard little nub with the heel of his hand. Her face kept tensing and relaxing in time with the movement of his fingers inside of her, and he could tell she was getting close. He sped up just a little, and went a little harder, and she was trying very hard to stay still but she couldn't resist gently lifting her hips and pulsing against him.

Her face kept twisting, and she kept whimpering. "You look so sexy, Rosalie," he whispered, his voice husky. She was shuddering; she was so incredibly close; her voice made little staccato sobs. "That's right, Kitten. You want to come, don't you? What do you need, baby?" She whined incoherently, biting her lip. "Oh sweetie; I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel." She cried out, she was becoming frustrated, even though the pleasure was better than ever. Finally he changed tactics. "Rosalie, my darling; I love you so much. Show me how much you love me."

"James!" she almost screamed, and came harder than she had before. "Oh god;" She was trembling. "It's; so; good; please kiss me." He bent down; he kept his fingers inside her, gently stroking them in and out, and kissed her slowly, his tongue lazily exploring her mouth. It took her a long time to regain coherence this time, and he was full of pride. The sexiest girl he'd ever met was practically melting into the sheets because of what he'd done to her. This was beyond his wildest dreams. When Rosalie found speech again she turned and looked at him with her gigantic brown eyes and challenged him.

"Are you Quite Certain you've never done this before?"

James laughed. "As far as I can remember, no."

Rosalie shook her head. "How. How are you so good at that." It wasn't really a question.

James's face grew serious. "I love you, and all I want to do is please you. Making you climax might be my greatest accomplishment in this life."

She let out a shuddering breath. "This is the best day of my life. And it's only;" she squinted at the clock, "3:00 pm."

"Oh good," said James. "We have hours yet."

"I forgot; you have to go home at some point."

James kissed her, and held her face. "You are my home, no matter where I lay my head. But yes, I probably should stay the night at my place."

"Let's not think about it right now."

"Agreed." He paused. "So, how many times do you think we can make love in a day?"

Rosalie laughed. "I don't know, but I'm ready to find out. Do you think we'll ever get tired of it?"

James sighed. "I guess at some point people have to go back to their regular lives, and somehow they get used to it, but I can't imagine that right now." He laid on his side and pulled her to him,

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sun, 06 Sep 2026 14:20:00 +0000

The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 1.

James's heart was dry, but Rosalie's eyes flooded his soul.

Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

It is Well with My Soul.

She looked like a poem. That's the only way James could think to describe her.

In that moment, as she stood in front of the church, the wind blowing gold and rust colored leaves around her, her dark ponytail swinging softly, her arms crossed over her chest, clasping as though she was facing not only the gusty air but an invisible army, her full maroon skirt pulled tight against her and billowing behind her like a cape. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips red, and she glanced over at him.

He already knew exactly what her eyes would look like. Enormous, brown, fringed with dark lashes and an even darker sadness gazing out. Even when her face lit up with a smile, and her laugh rang out like silver bells, the sadness spilled out and flowed invisibly, somehow pouring straight into his veins, where it would run hot through his body and pool in his heart, causing it to ache and overflow as her unspoken grief mingled with his own.

He didn't know what she had to be sad about. No one really did. She appeared a year ago, taking a job as a Dictaphone typist for people who could not afford to hire their own. Doctors, lawyers, businessmen of all kinds would drop off their tapes and she would listen to them, typing up their notes, and they would come pick them up.

It was a job that required the strictest code of conduct, for she was the keeper of everyone's secrets. She was quiet, professional, sober, and as far as anyone could tell, very alone. She was the sole employee, and her boss was a small, gray man who was indifferent to the startling splash of beauty she imposed on the musty office and indeed, the whole town.

She attended church regularly, which is how James met her. She sat in the middle of the pews, by herself, singing so quietly she might have only been moving her mouth. She smiled when it came time to greet one another, and there was truth in her face. Every Sunday she made a point to walk up to the organ and shake his hand during the passing of the peace. No one else ever did that.

He would pause his playing and look up and there they were. Those gigantic brown eyes running over with a deep sorrow. The first time she did it he almost fell off the bench. He eventually learned to steel himself so when the river began to rush, drowning out everything but his own heartbeat, he was able to cling to the organ like a piece of flotsam, lest he drown. Her hand was small and soft, but her eyes;

The single young adults in the church would often socialize informally outside of services or choir practice, and she was immediately invited to outings for milkshakes and mini-golf. She accepted their invitations with restrained enthusiasm, and was welcomed in immediately. She was rarely not in attendance to these activities, and grew friendly with the girls. But she was not one to join in the joking and teasing, but sat off to the side smiling. She never went out with any of the guys, even though she was asked. She was well-liked, but remained a bit of an enigma.

"Rosalie." James whispered to himself as she turned her eyes towards him, and he felt her eyes propelling a current straight into his. She held her gaze longer than normal, and his heart pulsed sideways. Suddenly he came to his senses and offered her his jacket, tucking it around her shoulders as she thanked him. "Where is your coat?" She walked a mile to get to church, and it was such a blustery day.

"It was warmer this morning. I wasn't expecting this wind," she replied.

James didn't drive either. It was hardly a necessity in this town. "Why don't I walk you home? My house is so close to the church, I could go get another jacket, and then I can take this one with me." It was hardly a ploy for him to be alone with her. He had no designs on her, because he had decided long before he ever met her that he would be eternally alone, and there would be no point in pursuing a relationship with anyone.

It brought him a sense of freedom. He didn't have to force himself into small talk, or find the courage to ask a girl out. He got to keep his meager salary as the church music director and spend it on himself. He enjoyed quiet evenings reading and playing the piano. There weren't any men in the town he could see being a true pal, and so he refused all invitations to play cards or darts, and eventually they stopped asking. He assumed they were only being polite anyway.

They walked quietly, the crunching leaves and whistling wind were pleasant and kept the silence from feeling oppressive. They stopped at his house and he reached inside the door, grabbing his heavier coat and offering it to Rosalie. She was petite, and it swallowed her up. "Is it too heavy?" he asked. The weight of the wool pushed on her shoulders and her modest heels sunk into the mud. "I'm afraid so," and Rosalie blushed as they switched jackets again.

When they reached the converted Victorian house where she rented an apartment from Mrs. McGregor, she paused at the door. He had come up on the porch just to make sure her key worked, and he turned to leave. "James, would you like a cup of tea to warm you before you walk home?" James felt confused. He had never accepted an invitation the entire five years he had lived here. She had been here an entire year and had never seemed to catch on to this fact.

Every time the young people discussed their plans for the week in the pews after church or choir practice, Rosalie would call out to him as he packed up his music and straightened the organ bench. "James, the rest of us are going to the movies on Tuesday. Would you like to join us?" They all laughed and told her he would never say yes, but it didn't stop her from asking. It was the only time her voice carried. He would lift up his head and give a smile that did not reach the corners of his mouth and give a quick shake of his head, walking back to the church office to file his sheet music, and then out the door.

On this day, he was surprised to see Rosalie standing there alone. But she often did things that the others thought queer. The young people were all straggling towards the parking lot or walking home, but she was facing the wind, looking into the distance at; something. And then she turned to him, and she was not looking past him, or towards him, but into him. And perhaps that's why he accepted an invitation for the first time ever, and stepped inside her cozy little apartment.

Rosalie went to the kitchen, and James looked around at the cheerful flat. She had lots of books, a radio, a record player. The walls were adorned with framed embroidery samples, crewelwork, and small paintings of flowers. She had a couple of houseplants, one winding its way up the tall window, and a scattering of afghans and throw pillows. It was colorful, and there was a sweetness to it. He stood uncomfortably, and caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror above the fireplace.

"Average," he thought. Maybe even homely. He was a timid young man, 27, with unremarkable brown hair, eyes that couldn't decide what color they wanted to be, and a bit of a weak chin. He wore glasses. There wasn't anything precisely right or wrong about him. He just was. Not tall, not short. Not thin, or fat. He was neither something, or nothing. He existed. He did wear glasses, which gave him a curious look, but that was an adornment. He favored simple clothes in drab colors so he didn't have to think about what to wear, he could grab any shirt, any trousers, any tie and it would be perfectly fine.

The tea kettle whistle snapped him out of his dull reverie. He realized he was still wearing his coat, and hung it up on a hall tree, over the jacket he had lent her. A fluffy black cat was twirling its tail around his leg, and he bent down to give it a pat. "Do you have pets?" Rosalie asked as she poked her head out of the kitchen. "No," he replied with no further explanation.

"Do you take sugar? Cream?" He came into the kitchen to pour a little dab of cream. It was a very small galley kitchen, and she was very close to him. He caught a whiff of flowers as she turned to put some butter cookies on a tray. He carried both cups of tea and set them on her coffee table, and the black cat jumped up to examine it.

"Now, now, Mr. Rochester, you know better," she scolded softly as she scooped the cat up and buried her face in his fur before setting him back down on the floor. James suddenly felt uneasy; he would very much like to be that cat. He didn't know what to do with feelings like that. They weren't even thoughts. They weren't in his head, his brain. They seemed to originate in his heart and flow downward.

"Please sit," she said, and he realized he was just standing there, like a dimwit. He wasn't going to drink his tea standing, after all. They sipped quietly for a few minutes, then Rosalie asked him how long he had lived here in town.

"Five years."

"Where are you from?"

"Oh, you've never heard of it." He paused, and she gave him a look that indicated that she still wanted to know. He told her the name of a town even smaller than this one, and she smiled. "You are right. I've never heard of it." He asked her where she was from, out of politeness, and she told him. It was a larger city than this one, and he wondered why she would want to leave it. But he didn't ask.

"So, what brought you here?" she asked.

"I finished college and took the first job I could get. It's not easy to find a job with a music degree. I didn't have any grand ambition. So this was as good as any."

He found himself distracted by her eyes, once again.

"Do you like it?"

"Hmm?"

"Your job. The town. Life in general?" She smiled, almost teasingly.

"Well yes. It's a perfectly agreeable place. And the job is fine. I have no desire to be rich, and I like playing the piano and organ. And I'm capable of leading a choir, so it's no skin off my nose."

"What about outside of work?"

Rosalie was polite, and knew how to carry on a conversation. It wasn't that it was difficult, but James was out of practice. He had purposely curated a dull life so he would never be disappointed, but it also left him with little to say.

"I; I practice the piano and organ, so I don't lose my chops, I guess. Playing the same hymns over and over doesn't exercise the same muscles as classical or jazz. So I try to play around from time to time to keep limber, I guess."

"I have heard you play. I walk by your house on my way to work, and sometimes I stop for a few minutes and listen," Rosalie smiled at him shyly. "I've heard you play Beethoven, Mozart, Debussy;"

"Oh yes, well, Beethoven and Debussy are especially good for the piano. And Mozart is good in general, just for keeping your brain sharp."

"I don't doubt it. But I felt something when you played." Her sad, brown eyes looked off to the side, as though she was suddenly shy. "It wasn't just someone trying to stay in practice." She turned and looked at him, pouring herself into him. James swallowed hard.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you feel something when you play those pieces? Especially Clair de Lune? Or the Moonlight Sonata?"

"I mean, they are very pretty."

"More than pretty. They are beautiful, and sad, and full of longing, don't you think?"

"I suppose that might have been the composer's intention."

"What about your intentions, James?" Rosalie's sad brown eyes seemed larger than ever. He didn't understand why his heart felt swollen, and how it had crawled up into his throat, perhaps to escape drowning in her essence that was threatening to overflow inside him, flooding his entire body. Those eyes! What was she doing?

"I don't understand what you mean."

Rosalie looked as though she might cry, and stood to look out the large window that went almost from floor to ceiling.

"We are the same, are we not?" She turned to him. "I can feel it when you play. You are full of something James, and you don't want anyone to know. But it leaks out of you when you touch the keys, the way steam creeps out of the tea kettle right before it screams."

James's temples began to perspire. It was suddenly oppressively hot in her warm little flat. He stood up and began bumbling towards the hall tree for his coat. "I; I must go. Thank you for the tea."

"Wait, James;"

"Goodbye, Rosalie." He turned as he shut the door, to see her staring at him with her huge brown eyes which were now brimming with tears that threatened to overflow and streak down her face.

Rosalie continued to come to church, and James ignored her. Which wasn't terribly different from how he treated her normally. But he stopped acknowledging her with a nod. She no longer greeted him during the passing of the peace. She stopped asking him to join them for bowling, and he noticed one of the young men, Ricky, had started paying her special attention, touching her waist, and putting his arm around her.

If James had looked at Rosalie, he would have seen the discomfort in her face, and how her sad eyes were even sadder than before, but all he saw was Ricky's crinkled eyes and wide smile as he laughed and teased her. His heart felt squeezed, all the juice had run out of him and he was nothing but dehydrated pulp clinging to a hardened rind at the bottom of a bin. She avoided looking into his eyes, and his soul was parched. He didn't realize how much she had filled him up before. It was a kind of communion, he realized it now. But it was too late.

One Saturday he was preparing for the Christmas service when he heard the door to the sanctuary creak. Rosalie entered, wearing a bright green coat with a brown fur collar, her hair down around her shoulders. She was always adorned with a bright spot of color somewhere. She was carrying two grocery bags that seemed to be weighing her down. James left the organ bench and went to her, taking one of the bags.

"These are for the canned food drive. Do you know where we are supposed to drop them off?"

"I'll take them for you, we have some collection bins in the back room."

"Would you help me carry them now?"

The idea of being in the back room with Rosalie made his heart lurch, and he shook his head.

"I really need to get back to working on the Christmas service. If you leave them here, I will make sure they go where they belong."

"You are working on carols? Can I see?" Without waiting for an answer Rosalie set down her bag and shrugged off her coat, leaving it on the back pew. She took off her hat and walked to the organ, snatching up the sheet music. She smiled. "These are wonderful choices. O Holy Night is especially beautiful. Will the choir be singing it?"

He took it out of her hands. "No, I'll just be playing it during the Nativity tableau. No one in this church has the correct range." He turned back to the organ and started straightening the papers.

"James." He could feel her standing behind him. If he turned and looked into her eyes he'd drown. Her eyes;

She put her hand on his shoulder. "James." He slowly turned around, and there she was. She was a slip of a thing, but he wasn't very tall either. She looked up at him, her eyes flooding, and he could feel her tears gushing like a pipeline straight into his heart. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. She lifted her face up and he looked at the ceiling as she tried in vain to reach his lips. She stood on her tiptoes, and he stepped back, right against the organ, his ass hitting the keys, and it groaned in reply.

Her feet faltered and she fell towards him, her face landing against his chest, and he caught her around the waist. "James," she whispered. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"I can feel it when you play. And when I look at you, the music flows right into my soul. Don't you understand?"

He shook his head, his face contorting with unrealized pain. "No."

Her lip trembled, and her eyes screwed shut. "I don't believe you." She opened them, and saw him, staring at her, his face was bewildered but his eyes were not. His soul flowed into hers just as hers flowed into his, and she knew it, and he knew it. But he just stood there. She realized she was still resting against him, and pushed away, standing up straight.

"Do you like girls?" It was an accusation.

"I don't like anybody."

Her face softened. "Why? Do you want to?"

He looked away. "I never; I;"

"You never what? Never thought you could?"

"I never thought; anyone would like me."

Rosalie was still blinking back tears when she began to laugh, and shake her head.

"James. You know where I live. If you ever decide you are worthy of joining the rest of humanity, come knock on my door."

James just stared as she put her coat on and left.

He sat back down on the piano bench. He was shaking. He needed to eat something. He left the church and wandered back to his little rented house. His stomach was sick. He tore through the cabinets, sitting down with a tin of saltine crackers and a bottle of ginger ale. What was going on?

Rosalie. Why Rosalie? Why couldn't some mousy little gal like Mary Lou like him? Women and girls had always ignored him, and in turn he ignored himself. He thought of his erections the same way he thought about using the toilet. Basic, biological, and nothing to concern himself with as long as nothing hurt. He didn't touch himself, and once in a while he had a dream that tore through him and woke him, sticky and hyperventilating.

He tried to never think about them, but he had to admit the truth. This last year, Rosalie had featured heavily in them. It was never anything explicit, he really didn't even know what a naked woman looked like. His exposure to nudie magazines was short and uncomfortable, the images seen so briefly he could barely put them together in his head. When Rosalie appeared in his subconscious it was fleeting glimpses of bare skin, impossible to identify. The only constant was her big, sad eyes, growing larger and larger and looming more closely to his face until he exploded.

What was a man like him supposed to do with a girl like Rosalie? How was he supposed to; match with her? Why did she think they did? Was there something wrong with her?

He was sweating. He took his temperature. It was 99 degrees. What did she want him to do? Kiss her? Make love to her? He could probably figure out the kissing part, but how the hell was he supposed to make love to her? He knew you put tab A into slot B, but that couldn't be all there was. He was suddenly extremely aware of his erection, and for the first time he truly acknowledged to himself that yes, he wanted to use it. He went to take a shower, starting out with hot water and then blasting himself with cold. It would work for a short time, but he had a feeling this one wasn't just going to go away.

He wished he'd prepared himself a little more. Maybe he should have studied those magazines instead of just walking off, feeling sick. Maybe he should have stuck around for the locker room talk. But they always made girls sound like a robot. Like you could turn a key and push a few buttons and she'd do what you wanted. It didn't feel good to him. It was easier to turn himself all the way off then try and figure out what turned him on. But now he knew for certain. It wasn't boys. It wasn't girls. It was Rosalie.

James got dressed, cursing his bland wardrobe. He didn't even own a tie with a spot of color. Maybe his eyes would decide to be blue today. He looked in the mirror, feeling helpless. His hair was lank, his face might as well have been a thumb. His glasses were, well; glasses.

But she liked him. She liked HIM. It was ridiculous. He grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

James banged on her door with purpose, like he was a bill collector or a neighbor coming to complain that her tree was dropping

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 5

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sat, 05 Sep 2026 14:46:00 +0000

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 5.

Muriel's erotic Prowess.

Based on a post by Biggalute. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

'Watch and learn, bitch." Muriel said, doing exaggerated jaw loosening exercises as she came over to me. We all laughed which helped me relax a bit and the cumming sensation abate.

She started by kissing me and sticking her tongue nearly down my throat, god she had a long tongue.

She took hold of my cock and laughed that her fingers no where near met around the girth. She started licking the head as if it was an ice-cream, her tongue making large circles without her head moving. I was transfixed and felt a small amount of sticky pre cum ooze out, Muriel eagerly lapping it up. She took me into her mouth, taking three quarters of me on her first attempt.

This was as far as anyone had ever gone. She held me there, allowing her mouth and throat to get used to the sensation. Slowly she pushed on, her tongue swirling as she did so and blowing my mind. I felt the warm air from her nose on my short pubic air, my god, she had the whole of my cock in her mouth and was still pushing forward, taking more and more of it down her throat, her nose rammed into me, her tongue trying to lick as she did so. I felt my body convulse and my mind go blurry as stream after stream of spunk left my cock and went straight down her throat, her face never moving from my crotch.

When she had finished I was hardly able to breath, let alone talk. The coolest of all of was Muriel who just sat with a satisfied, Cheshire cat grin on her face. I think the rest of us were a bit mind blown at the incredibly erotic action that had just taken place.

After I don't know how long Sarah asked me if I had had enough, or more precisely she pointed to my reddened knob and said "I think he's had enough for today."

"Oh I don't know, I think with the right physiotherapy and some kind loving he could go another round."

"No fucking way, that was wild, I don't think you're getting hard again anytime soon."

"Want a bet."

It was my turn to take control. I asked Dave if he still had space on his disk for more film and he said he had a whole free disk

"Right who's going to help me so we can do some real fucking" Sarah just looked on bemused as Jane and Muriel volunteered.

I laid down on the lounger again "Jane I thought that was really hot earlier when you squatted over Muriel's face, could you do that for me."

"Oh that sounds like fun, it'll be my pleasure."

"I think it's time our director made her cameo appearance, what do you think Jane."

"Oh definitely."

"I don't want to."

It was my turn now, I gleefully said "Don't be such a prima donna, it's only sex."

Sarah gave me a withering look and I thought there was no way she was going to change her mind. Jane came over and cuddled her, holding her reassuringly before starting to talk. "My wonderful child, this has been the most erotic, sexy, amazing experience I have ever had and I know Muriel and your dad feel the same. And it's all thanks to you and this beautiful man you have found. I can see that he loves you deeply and that he would never do anything to harm or upset you. You've shown him how wonderful and liberating sexual freedom can be and encouraged him to embrace it. He only wants you to enjoy it as much as we all are and if I know you the way I think I do then once you let yourself go you will enjoy it immensely.

I could see Sarah thinking before turning and slapping her mums ass, it must have hurt because Jane let out a loud 'Ouch' before calling Sarah a bitch. Turning to me with a triumphant smile on her face, Sarah said "Where do you want me?"

I smiled back and mouthed 'I love you' before getting Sarah to remove her t shirt and sit on a chair beside the lounger, telling her to slide down and spread her legs wide. When she was in position she said. "Happy now?"

"Nearly. Dave are you ready with the camera?" He gave me a thumbs up. "Jane you come and sit on my face like I told you and Muriel I want you to lick Sarah's pussy till she's screaming for you to stop."

"Yummy." Muriel said, she really was wild and would do anything I think.

I looked at Sarah, she was in a little bit of shock I think. As far as I know she had never had another woman go down on her.

Jane came and stood above me, her legs either side of the lounger, level with my nipples. I reach up and put my hands on her hips and very slowly pulled her bum towards my face. Thank god for her strong thighs, every time she lowered a couple of inches I would stop her, soaking up the incredible sight in front of me. Her large, firm ass was so gorgeous I wanted to sink my teeth into it, and as she lowered herself and lent forward her cheeks separated, nearly causing my heart to stop and my cock, which had flagged a bit, to go flag pole rigid. I brought her closer, her anus and glistening pussy clearly visible, the lips beginning to part as her legs moved further apart. When she was just an inch above my head I stopped her again, breathing in her sex smell. I lifted my head and stuck my tongue to her anus, probing and licking, she squirmed and then put her hands behind her, pulling her cheeks apart to give me better access.

I was aware of Dave just behind me, trying to get a close up. I lowered my head, allowing him an unobstructed view of her puckered hole. I brought my hand around and rubbed her hole, still wet from my tongue, with my finger. I then had a brainwave, I moved her a bit further back so I could pull her pussy to my mouth and exposing her asshole even more. I lifted my hands to her back and pushed her head down towards my cock, causing Jane to put her hands down to support herself. Jane let her weight go and lowered herself completely onto my face, pinning my head to the mattress with her ass and pussy. The pressure was a bit uncomfortable but the whole scenario was so erotic and wild that I didn't care. She started nibbling at my cock. A definite mixture of pleasure and pain, causing my cock to twitch and jump.

She started to rock her pelvis back and forward, using my head, that was still firmly pinned down, to stimulate her pussy and clit. The pressure and speed increased, Jane using the whole of my face for her pleasure. One second my nose would be buried in her asshole the next it was rubbing against her clit. She was insatiable, completely lost in her lust. I had to screw my eyes tight shut to stop her free flowing juices from entering. I laid there waiting for her to finish, thinking that she would have a very sore pussy when she finished, what with the pressure she was applying and the stubble on my chin. I felt her begin to tense and she stopped moving, her thighs tightening against my head and then she gushed, covering my nose, mouth and chin in her delicious, gooey cum.

She lifted herself off and turned and kissed me gently on the lips, whispering "Thank you."

I looked over at Sarah and Muriel who were just sat watching us, big smiles on their faces.

"Did you get to cum?" I asked Sarah.

"Oh, god yes, Muriel has a much better tongue than yours, very long and talented." She said, turning to Muriel and snogging her. I smiled, remembering Muriel's tongue.

"I can't wait to see the video." It was then that an idea came to me.

"Muriel, you ready for more fun."

"Is the Pope a catholic?"

We all laughed and Sarah moved behind her, putting her arms around and beginning to caress her boobs and pussy, Muriel leaning back into Sarah and kissing her. This was a wonderful sight and I watched them for a while,, slowly masturbating as I did, but I had other ideas.

"Muriel would you suck me rock hard and then let me fuck you."

"Oh yes, please, what hole?"

"What?" I was a bit confused then remembered what Jane ad said earlier.

"Your asshole." I eagerly said, never having had anal sex in my life.

"Naughty boy." Smiling "I haven't got any lube with me."

"Sarah has."

Sarah pinched Muriel's nipple hard, causing her to coo rather than yelp "You really are a tart."

Sarah laughed and went and got the lube.

Muriel had already started sucking me before Sarah returned.

Jane was on her knees in front Dave, her head bobbing to and throw.

Sarah just stood smiling and shaking her head at the scene in front of her.

Muriel was down towards my feet, pulling my cock hard down towards her. When she removed her mouth my cock shot back up, making a loud slapping noise as it hit my stomach. She licked her lips and turned and kissed Sarah, she then took Sarah's head down onto my cock, virtually forcing her to take me in her mouth.

Sarah had never been able to take much of my length in her mouth, and was soon gagging as Muriel pushed her head down. It was an incredible sight and an incredible sensation.

Muriel was brutal, pushing Sarah further, and I could see her eyes watering but she kept going, my cock going deeper down her throat than it had ever done.

Muriel began using her other hand to slap Sarah's ass; three, four slaps, getting harder; seven, eight, harder still. The effort of the slapping releasing the pressure on her head, allowing Sarah to come off my cock and recovering her breath, but she stayed bent over, taking the kinky punishment Muriel was dishing out.

Out of breath Muriel stopped, straightening Sarah and kissing her deeply, lovingly almost. I looked on lustfully, incredibly aroused by everything in front of me. When they finished kissing Muriel said, "Now where's that lube." We all laughed, releasing the tension. Muriel gave out instructions.

"I'm going to suck that delicious cock one more time; Sarah my darling I want you to play with my ass, prepare it for that huge cock. I've never taken one anywhere near that big but Bill did once stuck a large cucumber up there, I still don't think it was that big." We all laughed again. "Sarah I love having my ass hole licked, have you ever licked an ass hole?" Sarah shook her head. "Oh goody, you're both virgins so to speak. Stick your tongue in as far as you can and then when you can go no further use your fingers, two should go in easily, but get as many in as you can. His cock is as thick as your wrist."

I heard Dave grunting, taking my attention away. I looked over and Jane stood up, cum dribbling from her mouth. God, this was erotic.

"Draw up some chairs and take a seat, watch the tart work her magic." Muriel said, almost showman like.

She took me in her mouth, bottoming out almost immediately, she was some cocksucker. Sarah did as she was told and started on Muriel's upturned ass. All I could see was her hair and the top of her forehead as she buried her face between Muriel's cheeks. Muriel was obviously enjoying it, wiggling and pushing back as Sarah pushed forward. The tonguing she is getting from Sarah is taking much of her attention, she keeps me in her mouth but her head and tongue stay still, thankfully preventing me from cumming.

Sarah's head lifts, her face smothered in juices, a wicked, wicked smile on her face. She looks delighted with herself. I watch as she lubes up her fingers, Muriel goes to lift her head up but I push it back down again. She bites into my cock, I get the message, she's the boss. Sarah inserts a finger into Muriel's ass, seemingly with no resistance. I can see her hand moving in and out, Muriel moving and wiggling in time with her. Sarah lifted her other hand up, showing me three fingers. She had three fingers up Muriel's ass, wow. I mouthed to her, 'My turn'.

She removed her fingers and rammed her pelvis into Muriel's ass, as if fucking her, Muriel's head jolting forward, her teeth scraping against my cock and hurting me. I grimaced and Sarah laughed, bitch!. She grabbed Muriel's hair and pulled her upright and to my surprise stuck her fingers into Muriel's mouth, Muriel sucking hard before removing them and kissing Sarah hard. I found this both exciting and gross. I couldn't help wondering what her fingers tasted of.

Muriel looked at me with a wanton look in her eyes, she told me to put the lounger into a semi seated position. She got Sarah to lube up my cock, watching as she coated it, at first gently and then pumping it as if I needed any more stimulation. When she was satisfied Muriel turned her back to me, putting her hands behind her so they rested on my hip bones and told me to pull her cheeks as wide apart as possible.

I obliged and was greeted with a wonderful view of her already reddened anus, ever so slightly gaping and the skin stretched taut around it. I couldn't imagine that my big cock was ever going to fit in there. She called out to Dave.

"Dave darling, I want you to get the best shots ever, no one will believe me that I took that monster up my bum, I want photographic proof to show them and for me and Bill to masturbate over."

Poor Bill, Muriel's husband, laying on the bed indoors, too sick to join in. I felt a pang of guilt and then saw Muriel looking at me asking was I ready, was I ever.

She lowered herself till hole made contact with my cock, holding herself there, ever so slowly increasing the pressure. My engorged gland, red and glistening with the lube, looked to be at least ten times bigger than the hole it was supposed to be going in. I was transfixed by the sight, her hole slowly stretching with each downward movement.

Sarah and Jane were so close, watching, that I could almost feel their breath, although I think they were holding it most of the time. Muriel's own breathing changed, panting and moaning loudly as she forced me in side of her. She called to Sarah to stand in front of her.

"Kiss me and bite my tongue, pinch my nipples hard." Sarah didn't need to be told twice and immediately attacked Muriel with a sexual ferocity I hadn't seen in a while, she was as horny as the rest of us.

Muriel pushed further, the head of my cock miraculously penetrating her small opening, I swear I heard a plop sound as the head disappeared up her hole. She pulled her head away from Sarah, panting faster, getting used to the feeling. "Feels incredible, so big, so full." She panted out in short breaths. It really did feel incredible and tight, her sphincter muscles squeezing me like a vice.

I felt the muscles begin to relax, she kissed Sarah again and I heard her say, "Pinch my nipples harder, scratch me, slap me, bite me." Sarah's eyes widened, she was as much into this as the rest of us. She looked behind Muriel as she started to impale herself further on my rod. The width of cock looked impossible, painful and incredibly erotic all at the same time, Sarah just gently shaking her head in disbelieve and mouthing 'Wow' to me.

Sarah went back to Muriel's mouth and I heard her yelp, Sarah had bitten her lower lip making it bleed and then squeezed the lip with her own lips to make it bleed some more. Satisfied that she had enough of Muriel's blood on her lips and chin, she pulled her head back to show us both before sticking her face into Muriel's boobs and biting at the flesh.

Muriel was now lost in her own ecstasy, shouting, whooping and moaning as she pushed deeper and deeper. "Aah, deep, fucking deep, fuck me, hit me, finger me, aah, slap me you fucking cunt, slap me."

Sarah stood and slapped Muriel's face, not too hard but enough to stop her shouting, through all of this I had just laid still, allowing Muriel to use my cock and enjoying the show. Nearly too afraid to push upwards lest I hurt Muriel. She was still only half way down my shaft, probably another four to five inches of thick cock to go.

Sarah put her hands on Muriel's shoulders and started to push her down, I could feel her muscles splitting apart as she took this large invader deep into her. Sarah's mouth was next to Muriel's ear, whispering filth and biting at her lobes.

Muriel bottomed out and she sat there panting hard, her whole torso rigid. Sarah became gentle, kissing her neck and shoulders, caressing her skin. This was incredibly erotic to me and I joined in, leaning forward and putting my arms around Muriel, gently touching her belly and breasts, letting my fingers roam downwards and gently running my finger over her pussy lips, moist with excitement and sweat. We stayed like that, all caressing each other, sighing and cooing in contentment, virtually oblivious to the fact that Muriel had my fat ten inch cock stuck up her ass.

I lent back and brought Muriel with me, she planted her feet more firmly on the ground and started to lift up and down, riding my cock with her ass. We found a rhythm and Muriel began riding high, lifting up and plunging down with each stroke. It felt incredible and I knew I couldn't last much longer.

Muriel's breathing also changed and she started masturbating and soon brought herself to the edge of climax; "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum." She shouted, and so was I.

I put my hands on her hips and rammed her down hard, twice, before exploding deep inside her ass. She shuddered and slumped back into me, drained of all energy and emotion. Sarah cuddled us both and I could feel my cock shrinking and Muriel's muscles closing, filling the gap.

"Anyone for refreshments?" Jane asked and we all burst out laughing.

Relationships are strained, but they persevere.

Things were not good. Ever since we'd returned from our amazing holiday in Portugal there'd been a disconnect between me and Sarah that had never been there before.

I was worried. I know all couples go through rough patches but we'd lived together for over a year, we're planning on getting married and I thought we were really strong. As those of you who have read my earlier stories will know, Sarah is wild, an uninhibited dervish with a lust for life and all the pleasures it holds. She had loved me and taken me on a journey I could never of imagined.

I was a fairly straight laced guy when I met Sarah, as horny as any man but conservative I both my sexual appetites and my experiences. She has taught me that sex is a physical pleasure to be taken, shared and enjoyed and with the right mindset and the right person it can be wonderful and liberating and actually add to the love a couple share. But now I genuinely thought I might be loosing her.

I was racking my brains, trying to work out what the problem was. I know she was very busy, trying to establish herself as a freelance photographer and artist, putting in long days and late nights, attending exhibitions and openings. Yes she was tired and probably exhausted, but previously when she was tired she would collapse into my arms and sleep, now she lay next to me and turned away. She wasn't even telling me about all the people I didn't even know who she met everyday, like she normally would. Something was definitely wrong between us.

Sarah is a photographer and has/had a virtual fetish for taking pictures of cocks, big ones, small ones, white ones, black ones, in fact, all bloody ones. Her photographs were incredible, both erotic and beautiful and she had had a successful exhibition of her work. Although for someone so open and sexual she was a little coy about how she got all her subjects, many of them complete strangers, to pose for her.

She has taken thousands of pictures of me and at her bidding and sometimes insistence we had both been involved in some incredible sexual experiences, most of which Sarah had photographed and I have documented. Now I thought I was losing her and didn't know what to do about it.

"Hey Mike, what's the matter, you look spaced out."

I hadn't even heard Steve, my boss, come into my cubby hole of an office, where he now stood next to my desk.

I looked at him a bit surprised, my thoughts having been a million miles away from here.

"Sorry," I said "I think I might be coming down with something, I'm not sure that I don't have a temperature." Where the lie came out of I don't know, but it seemed to work.

"You do look a bit peaky, listen tomorrows Friday, why don't you finish up now, get yourself sorted out and come back in on Monday. Work on that new merger starts Monday and I need y

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 4

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Fri, 04 Sep 2026 14:45:00 +0000

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 4.

Another Day with loved ones.

Based on a post by Biggalute. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Jane knocked on our door just before two,

"Wakey, wakey you two, the Collins' will be here soon and lunch won't be long."

Sarah jumped up and headed for the shower, I went to follow but she shut the door on me.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because I want to have a shower without you and your impressive todger getting in the way." Impressive todger had quickly become the buzz phrase.

"How about if I promise to just sit and watch you shower."

"Promise?"

"Scouts honour."

Sarah opened the door, "Were you in the scouts?"

"No, but I once kissed a girl guide."

"Fool."

I sat and watched Sarah soaping herself, thoroughly enjoying the show.

"What sort of club is it you're parents are going to at the Bradshaws?"

"Oh, very exclusive." Sarah said, I think smirking.

"Sounds posh."

"Not really, I'm sure they'd let you in if you wanted to go, especially with your 'you know what'."

"What?"

Sarah stuck her head out of the shower,

"It's a swingers club silly, mummy and daddy and all their friends are swingers, they take it in turns going to each other's houses; three or four times a week sometimes."

"Really? Wow, dirty sods, good luck to them I suppose."

Lots of little clues finally made sense, 'other interests', 'play rooms', even the whole families very liberal sexual attitudes made more sense. I sat there smiling to myself.

"So do you want to go?" Sarah asked, snapping me out of my musings.

"No thanks. Have you ever been?"

"No, could have done when I got older but always thought it would have been a bit too weird. Most of them are my parent's age and I've known them since I was little. Actually I know there is sex involved but I think at this stage they spend more time sat around chatting and drinking than doing anything else." Sarah started laughing.

"What you laughing at?"

"Well the last time I was in Portugal, over two years ago now, mummy and daddy went to one of their parties and me and the girls stayed at home and drank some of their expensive wine. I was quite tipsy when they got home, feeling quite bold. I asked mummy what or rather who she'd been up to, wanting some juicy gossip. She proceeded to tell me, word for word, a new recipe for baked cheese cake that one of the other ladies had given her."

"So is that all you did all night, talked about cooking?" I asked her.

"Not quite, her husband was sat the other side of me, running his hand up and down my leg, trying to finger me, but I was more interested in the recipe."

We both giggled at this, "Your whole family, including you is fucking cracked." I said, laughing.

"We are, but that's why you love us."

"That I do."

"So I'm presuming the Collins' that are coming over are swingers to?"

"You might say they are the swingers in chief." Sarah said, smiling. "They're quite a couple; or rather she's more than enough for any couple." Sniggering. "You two will get on like a house on fire."

I shook my head and cringed a bit on the inside.

I took a very quick shower and when I came out I was greeted by the sight of Sarah, her hair tied in a tight ponytail which I always adore and wearing a small t-shirt which barely reached her hip bones, her shaven pussy and incredible pert bottom completely exposed. For once I think Sarah misread my expression, explaining "We're going to be sat at the table a while, eating and drinking, I don't want to get burnt."

"I get that bit; I was just wondering if I could shag you now, you look incredible."

"Ooh that would be nice, but I'm going to make you wait, abstinence is good for the soul." Moving towards me and removing my towel, grabbing me firmly by my erect cock and saying "Now get ready quickly before I drag you out by this."

I thought about bending her over the bed and just taking her there and then, but there was a bit of me that liked being teased and another that liked being ordered around, sexually at least.

"I can't walk out with a raging hard on."

"It would be quite an entrance." Sarah said, obviously very amused.

"Will I put shorts on?"

"Nothing's hiding that, and besides no one else will have any on so it'll be even more obvious."

I saw her expression change, a smile forming and then spreading as an idea formulated in her head.

"We couldn't, could we?"

"Couldn't what?"

"It's bold, even for me."

"What are you talking about?"

Sarah looked at me, her hand still squeezing my cock.

"Do you trust me?"

I looked skeptical "Sometimes."

"I want to do something that'll completely shock them, take their breath away."

"Your parents?"

"And their friends. Mummy's a bigger tart than me so won't mind, daddy might be shocked at his little girl but he'll get over it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just bear with me, this is going to be fun. For it to work you have to do exactly as I tell you."

"What is it?"

"Stop asking questions, trust me." She said, pulling my cock hard as she did so. She got busy and started giving out instructions.

"Put on a short, tight t shirt." She told me, before letting down her hair and messing it up as best she could. Then she went to her suitcase and took out a tube of lube. We never used lube when having sex, Sarah always getting wet enough to accept my large cock in her tight pussy.

"What's the lube for?"

Sarah didn't answer, instead giving me a sexy wink and planting a blob of lube on my cock, vigorously spreading it around. I groaned.

"Don't you dare cum."

"Stop wanking me off then."

She stopped and instead rubbed lube up and down her pussy lips.

"Right, I think we're nearly ready."

"Ready for what?"

"I want us to walk out there, you with a raging hard on and me with a wet pussy, looking like we've just been screwing. I can't wait to see their faces."

"You're fucking mad and besides you haven't got the look right."

"How?"

"Your pussy lips would be a bit open and inflamed looking, especially if this had been in them." I said pointing to my incredibly engorged cock. If any more blood went into it I think it would burst.

"They'd hardly notice."

"They will if they know sex, and besides why take the chance of messing up your little show, there's only one thing for it." I said, forcefully pulling her to me, meaning to kiss her but instead digging her in the tummy with my cock.

"Fuck, that's rigid."

"Turn around and bend over the bed." I said, taking some control of the situation.

"You have two minutes only, then we're going outside, don't cum, I want your todger rock hard when we walk out." Sarah said, smiling, turning and bending over.

Whilst I loved the sexual escapades Sarah got me involved in, there where times when I thought 'fuck you, I'm gonna do what I want' and this was one of them.

I looked down and it was my favorite sight in the whole world, Sarah with her arms in front of her and her ass stuck up in the air. I could have cum just looking at her. We had never had anal sex, only managing some anal play; Sarah pointing out, quite understandably, that she sometimes had trouble fitting me in her pussy, not alone her ass. However, she had said the same thing about oral sex, but after much secret practice with a variety of vegetables she could now accommodate some of me in her mouth. I lived in hope.

Sarah had a tight, pert bum. When she was bent over her cheeks would separate, leaving a glorious view of both her holes. I honestly didn't think I could trust myself not to cum. I bent over and stuck my tongue as hard as I could into her anus, trying to force my tongue through the sphincter. Sarah let out a gasp, her muscles contracting a bit, not expecting my assault. I brought my hand to her well lubed pussy, and finding her hole slipped a finger in roughly. Sarah was squirming a bit, I think not all together happy with my roughness. I was literally pinning her lower half to the bed with my head, my face cheeks rammed against her ass cheeks as my tongue continued to probe and invade her ass. I slipped a second and then a third finger into her and was vigorously finger fucking her, and starting to have more success with my tongue.

I thought the two minutes must be up and without a tongue extension I was getting no further into her ass. I pulled my fingers out and my face away and stuck my index finger, probably more brutally than I intended, through her sphincter.

"Ouch!"

I wiggled my finger around a bit before removing it and allowing Sarah to stand up. It was the roughest I'd ever been with Sarah and I immediately felt pangs of guilt, although I had enjoyed it and probably would have gone further if time allowed.

Sarah stood up, her face flushed and angry looking. "Bastard!"

I tried my best cheeky grin and stood back and looked at her, before moving and standing behind her.

"Now you look the part."

"What?" I actually think in her anger and surprise Sarah had forgotten about wanting to shock everyone.

"Well your hair is disheveled, your face is red, I could hang a towel off your nipples and both your ass and pussy are red. They won't know which way you've been fucked, but they'll believe you have. Maybe you should try smiling though. Shall we go?"

I looked at Sarah and thought she was about to cry, my heart melted and I felt like a right cunt. I held her tight and started to apologize. I suddenly felt a sharp shooting pain going from my scrotum to my stomach.

"Ha ha, fooled ya." Sarah said, squeezing my balls harder and sticking her nails in before letting go.

"Shall we go?"

I tried to straighten up and catch my breath as I followed Sarah's sexy butt outside.

Sarah stopped just as she was about to step onto the patio; all the emotion and the discomfort I still felt in my balls had caused my cock to shrink to a more normal size as I came beside her.

"What happened to you?" Sarah said, laughing at her own joke as she looked down at my cock.

"I don't know what you're laughing at, from my stubble rash on your bottom it looks like you've been getting fucked up the ass for the last half hour." We both laughed at this.

"Right, that's Muriel Collins and she's a slag, and that fat lump there is her husband Bill, he's a bit of a letch and a perv."

"I take it you don't like them." I said smiling, having never heard Sarah talk about anybody else like that before. She smiled back.

"They've been friends of my parents for years, when me and the girls were teenagers Bill would always want to swim or play games with us, always trying to cop a feel. Never did anything but that's because we never gave him the chance. She thinks she the wildest of the wild, always reckoning she's more adventurous than anyone else, but she's got no class."

"Unlike yourself." I said smiling and looking at Sarah's red bum and inflamed pussy.

"You think I've got no class?"

"I think you're the classiest, sexiest woman I've ever met." I said, putting my hand on her bum and pulling her in for a kiss, my fingers planted firmly between her cheeks.

"Come on, let's give them what for." I said, breaking the embrace and stepping onto the patio.

Groping Sarah, combined with the warm sun and the eyes of the four naked people watching us brought my cock back to life and as we walked to the table I could feel it gently tapping off my thighs.

"What kept you?" Asked Jane, standing up from the table. She really was a sexy woman, by cock giving away my thoughts, if not my face.

"I think they've been busy dear." Muriel said, also standing up. She had a smirk on her face as she looked the two of us up and down. She wasn't an unattractive woman, but whether it was what Sarah had been saying or something else I'm not sure, but as I looked at her the word 'Lizard' jumped into my mind. Any positive effects Jane had had on my libido being quickly undone.

Dave and Bill both stood now and Muriel came over and hugged Sarah, giving her big exaggerated air kisses to both cheeks. "It's so lovely to see you again and to meet your new beau." As she said this Bill gave Sarah a hug and I was watching his every move. He pulled her close, trying to discretely thrust his hips forward a bit, his big belly stopping his cock reaching Sarah. He had both arms around her and the lower hand slipped smoothly down to one of her bum cheeks. I didn't know if I wanted to punch him or laugh. He was such a sleaze but it was so obvious that it was laughable. As he let go I looked at Sarah who just threw her eyes up, slightly shaking her head as if worried I might say or do something. I wondered what the expression on my face was. Then it was my turn.

"Muriel, Bill this is Michael, Sarah's fiancé." Jane said.

"So lovely to meet you Michael, Jane and Dave have been telling us all about you."

She was nearly a foot shorter than me and as she got close she put her hands up around my neck, pulling me slightly down and herself up, before planting a kiss right onto my lips, holding it there whilst she pressed he boobs into me and brought her right knee up between my legs, only stopping once it made contact with my cock. I think if I had opened my mouth she would have stuck her lizard tongue in, thankfully I kept it shut. My cock was another matter, despite me finding this woman slightly repulsive it responded to the touch of her knee. God I hated my cock sometimes. She let me go, letting out a big "oooh" obviously encouraged by the effect she'd had on my cock.

I saw Sarah looking, 'Really? You have got to be fucking kidding me.' For once I could read her mind. I just wanted to scream 'Sorry, it's not my fault!'

Bill came over, thank god he only shook my hand. Neither Bill nor Dave and Jane seemed bothered by or even to have noticed that I had just been sexually accosted and snogged by Muriel.

Everyone went to sit down and I wanted to sit next to Sarah but was beckoned to sit between Jane and Muriel, with Jane between her dad and Bill. Boy girl, boy girl as it were. As I sat down Jane put her hand on one thigh and Muriel on the other, both gently rubbing but thankfully not moving upwards. For a change I was pretty oblivious to their touch, being more interested in what Bill was doing with his hands. I looked across at him and at that moment his hands were around a tumbler of what looked like whisky, a far away expression on his face. I studied him more closely and despite a deep sun tan he had an unhealthy pallor to his skin and a bulbous drinkers nose. His belly, rather than being fat was swollen, little veins barely visible under the skin.

My attention was taken by Jane asking me what I wanted to eat and drink. Everyone was eating now but my eyes kept being drawn back to Bill, he wasn't eating, instead just taking small sips of his drink. After a while he started to fall asleep, Jane also noticing.

"Bill why don't you lay down on one of the loungers, on second thoughts why don't you lay down on our bed, Dave and Sarah will help you."

As they helped him inside I noticed for the first time how infirm he was and how skinny his legs were. As they went Jane turned to Muriel.

"What have the doctors been saying?"

"Not much, just that the damage is done, not much they can offer."

As she was talking Sarah and her dad returned, Jane filled them in.

"Muriel was just saying that the doctors haven't got much to offer."

"We did ask them about a liver transplant but they said he wasn't suitable as he was still drinking. He says it's the only pleasure he has so he won't give it up."

"It's not his only pleasure, he still managed to squeeze my ass as we were putting him on the bed." Sarah said, to good hearted laughter.

I thought how funny life is, only a little while ago Sarah was talking about him with utter distaste, but now we knew how sick he was we felt differently about him and Muriel. I also thought about myself and my own alcoholism, if I hadn't gotten off it two years previously I would have ended up like that.

Muriel continued talking and when she had finished began to cry. Jane leant across me to comfort her and I tried to signal for her to sit in my seat but she stayed leant across me, virtually pinning me into the chair. After a moment I became aware of her boobs and nipples rubbing off my arm that was on the arm of the chair. She was rocking slowly backwards and forwards as she comforted her friend. She must have been aware of what was happening as I was sure her nipples were getting harder and my body responded in kind. I Iooked over the table, Dave was just staring and Sarah raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"You cry as long as you need to, let it out." Jane was saying, then "Will I show you something lovely to look at."

"What?"

Jane sat upright and pointed down at my semi erect cock, already seven inches and wide.

"Wow, that looks yummy and it's not even fully grown yet."

"I knew that would cheer you up." Jane said, both of them giggling like young ones.

"Michael would you be a darling and get us more white wine from the fridge?" Asked Jane.

My cock had gone down a bit but was still fairly big, "Of course." I said as I stood up, stopping where I was, my cock and balls dangling only a couple of feet from either of their faces. I stood there enjoying the attention, aware that they were both staring directly at me.

"Anyone want anything else from the kitchen?"

"I'll have a coffee." Said Sarah.

I initially found instant but then decided to make a pot, one because it was nicer and I wanted one but also because it took longer and gave them more time to talk with Muriel. As I returned carrying a tray they were all talking and sniggering, they stopped and Jane said. "Domesticated as well as gorgeous, you'll have to keep him."

"I fully intend to."

I sat next to Sarah as Jane was now in my seat, she leant in and kissed me, her hand going to my thigh, "Thank you." She said. As she pulled back I was aware of silence and everyone staring at us.

"I have one more job for you."

"What's that?"

"I want you to shag Muriel."

Before I could protest or say anything for that matter, Muriel said, "Please, please Michael, I know I'm an old hag but I really need it. I haven't been fucked in ages. I could go to the club but they're just Viagra fueled wrinkly cocks, most of which I've had before anyway. Besides I'd love to try one that big, please."

Thankfully, for once; my cock was not responding. With an honest face I was able to say.

"Muriel you are not a hag, very far from it. You're a very attractive woman and normally I'd jump at the chance to be with you but I can't get it up at the moment, I think it must be all the traveling and stuff."

I could sense Sarah about to say something but I stood up before she could, showing everyone my flaccid cock to illustrate my point.

"It still looks fairly big." Said Muriel.

"I know it does, but as they say 'you can't play pool with a piece of string'." I said warming to my subject.

"Did you have a wank when you were inside." Accused Sarah.

"No I didn't!"

"Thank goodness for that, I don't like cream in my co

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Thu, 03 Sep 2026 14:44:00 +0000

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 3.

Prurient Performance Arts.

Based on a post by Biggalute. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The spell was broken, I was suddenly fully aware of the other people in the room, all of whom it appeared had been taking pictures, spread in a semi circle, all looking directly at me and Joyce. I tried turning slightly away as if it might hide my increasing hard on, I felt myself blushing a bit, there was no hiding it.

I was just about to turn around and brazen it out, as if it was the most natural thing in the world when Jake came to my rescue.

"I had another couple of scenes in mind if we have time."

"We have plenty of time, what did you have in mind?" Sarah asked.

"Well if Michael could get on his knees, looking up at Joyce as if he's asking for forgiveness, I think it would make a really emotive shot."

"Michael?, Joyce?," We both nodded. I knelt down and ground my knees into the hard floor, all the talking and pain in my knees had distracted me and caused my cock to shrink to a less obvious state.

Jake gave out various instructions which we responded to, cameras clicking all around us. Eventually he said, "That's great, now Michael I want you to sit back on your haunches, put your head down to the ground and your arms out in front of you, reaching for Joyce's ankles. Joyce you just keep your head up as if you're not interested."

We did as we were asked, Joyce being told to move her head slowly, until she was looking down at me. I couldn't see much with my head down but there seemed to be increased camera activity, everyone approving of the aesthetics of Jake's chosen poses. I imagine it made a very erotic sight, me prostrate with my naked ass sticking out and Joyce looking down at me.

When Jake had finished Sarah said, "Right everybody, we'll take a short break and let Michael and Joyce recover, there's some bottled water here for whoever wants it. After the break Melisa can direct the poses and then Joyce."

I got slowly to my feet and was stretching my legs, Sarah came over with a bottle of water and my dressing gown. I took the water but made no move to take the dressing gown.

"Do you want this?" Sarah asked, I shrugged as if I wasn't bothered. The look on her face spoke a thousand words 'Put the fucking dressing gown on'. I put it on, smirking to myself. This was interesting, Sarah was normally so blasé about nudity, but not at this moment, I wasn't sure if it was because they were her students or more likely a bit of jealousy because of the chemistry between me and Joyce.

After I was gowned Sarah asked, "How you doing?"

"It's really good, I'm really enjoying it, they're a very creative bunch."

"I could certainly see you were enjoying it, you could try to hide it a bit."

"I thought you liked showing me off, and besides, you've always told me that nudity and arousal are only natural." Sarah gave me a dirty look and sulked off. I was enjoying myself and enjoying winding Sarah up.

I watched the students as Sarah asked them to gather round, Melisa was in cohorts with the other young female, looking over at me and giggling.

"Okay Melisa, what did you have in mind?" Sarah asked.

"Well if it's okay with you and with Michael I'd like to take some close up shots, I tried zooming in on the other scenes but I don't think they'll come out as good."

"Michael would it be okay if Melisa came in close to take some pictures?"

"Absolutely."

"Good, Melisa in your own time."

Melisa moved closer, camera in hand, looking at me intently. She stopped about two feet from me, her body facing my left arm. In barely more than a whisper she said, "I want you to stand very still, looking straight ahead, your muscles and body held tense."

I did as she asked, she started shooting frame after frame, starting at my elbow and moving up slowly, across my upper arm and the large tattoo on it until she was nearly aiming the camera in my ear. She moved to the back of my neck and then slowly down my spine. I could hear Melisa's breathing, this felt very intense and very erotic, I had the sensation of Melisa licking her way across my body.

I decided to really concentrate hard on not getting aroused and erect, genuinely thinking to myself that it would detract from Melisa's art.

I was aware of Melisa squatting down behind me, taking shots of my bum before moving down my legs

"Can you move your legs apart about a foot and tense the leg muscles some more."

I did as she asked and she moved down one leg and back up the other one. I was looking at the others, they seemed transfixed by the site in front of them, no one talking or making a noise. When Melisa got back to my right buttock she began to move around to the front, spending a lot of time on my hip bone and the line in my abs that lead down to my groin.

She squatted lower moving across my front, taking numerous shots of my scrotum and my dangling cock, when she got to my left hip she moved back in the middle, I think taking shots of just my cock, trying to squat even lower. I was in a world of my own, thinking Sarah had taught her well, a girl after her own heart. I was awoken from my day dreaming by Melisa's voice.

"I can't seem to get the shot I want, Belinda could you give me a hand?"

Belinda the other young girl came over, smiling, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want to get a shot of the very end of it, of the Japs eye, but I can't get low enough."

Without hesitation Belinda grabbed my cock, lifting it up so it pointed directly at Melisa. I looked at her sternly, taken aback by her action.

"Oops sorry." She giggled in a very girly voice "I forgot to ask permission, is this okay?" she asked, squeezing a bit harder. The others, including Sarah all laughed, having initially all looked a bit shocked and worried. I smiled and laughed also. I think it was the combination of the innocent voice verses the very grown up action that made it funny. And also it felt very nice, my cock growing and hardening of its own volition. Melisa snapped away, recording the growing cock.

"Ooh it's a heavy one," Belinda giggled, bringing more laughter from the rest of us and causing Sarah to call an end to proceedings.

"We couldn't have you being wanked off in front of the class." As she later explained to me.

After I had regained a bit of composure we were all stood around chatting, this time me in the nude, the atmosphere much more relaxed than earlier, the laughing helping in that regard. I was chatting with Melisa,

"I really enjoyed posing for you, it was a great idea, where did you come up with the idea?"

"Me and Belinda thought it up between us."

"So was her grabbing my cock planned?"

She went a bit red, "Belinda said it was the biggest she'd ever seen and she wanted to feel what it felt like, so we came up with that idea. I was meant to go to your cock nearly straight away, but I got really into taking pictures of all of you. You have great legs and ass, as well as the other thing, I hope you don't mind."

I smiled "No I don't mind, I really enjoyed it, it was very erotic, thank you." Cheeky cows!

"Right Michael, if you've finished corrupting the young ladies we'll get on with Joyce's shoot," Sarah said.

"I don't think I'm corrupting them, I think I need protecting from them." I replied, which got some nods and laughs.

"What did you have in mind Joyce?" Sarah asked.

"Are you flexible Michael?" Joyce asked me.

"A bit."

"Can you touch your toes?"

"Yes"

Moving closer to me, she said,

"I'll show you what I want you to do then."

Joyce moved her legs just over shoulder width apart, with straight legs she bent at the waist, putting her hands behind her ankles, causing her skirt to ride three quarters of the way up her tone thighs and her gorgeous round bottom to stick out, only inches from my cock. She slowly stood up.

"Do you think you could do that?"

I looked at Sarah, she was trying to keep a blank expression but I could see a slight twitching at the side of her mouth, I turned to Joyce,

"Yes, I think I can do that."

I turned my back to the group, facing the blank wall. I shook out my legs, making my ass cheeks wobble like a male stripper and then slowly bent as far as I could. I held onto my ankles but wasn't flexible enough to see between my legs, just staring down at the floor.

I could immediately felt how tight my hamstrings were and was concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths to help my muscles relax. I had enjoyed all my other poses, but as well as being uncomfortable I was also thinking that this was probably not a particularly appealing site.

I was wondering whether Joyce thought me being bent over as I was made a good, provocative, even erotic picture or whether she'd chosen this just because she could.

Either way my hamstrings were starting to cramp and I decided to straighten up.

"Sorry about that, I couldn't hold it any longer."

"That's fine; I think everyone got to see what they wanted," Sarah said, with a tone to her voice.

"We still have a little time left, anyone got any other ideas they want to try out." She said

There was silence, I was wondering if the last scene had been a bit too much for people's sensibilities. Finally Joyce said, "If no one else wants to take a go, I have one more idea I'd like to try."

Sarah gave her what I thought was a bit of a withering look; Joyce seemed either not to notice or not to care.

"What did you have in mind Joyce?" She asked.

"Well if we could bring that bench over here I'd like to stand up on it and takes some pictures from above Michael."

I could see Sarah thinking, her body relaxing a bit "That sounds interesting," she said.

Two of the lads brought over a bench from against the wall. It was about two feet high and Joyce stood up on it.

"Michael, if you could come and stand here with your back to me," Joyce said, motioning to a spot in front of her.

"No I'm not high enough, could you kneel down."

I did as I was asked.

"That's much better." I was aware of Joyce above me, camera pointed down, clicking away.

"Could you put your hands out a little, making your shoulders flex; that's a great shot, thanks."

"Sarah would it be okay if Michael pulled his willy just a little bit, to make it stick out, so I can get it in the picture?" Joyce asked.

"Is that okay with you Michael?" Sarah asked.

"I've no problem with that," I answered. I paused for a while, letting the tension build up, aware of all the eyes looking at me. I took my cock in my right hand; it already felt heavy and full of blood. I kept my eyes open and slowly pulled it; it instantly began to stiffen and rise.

I let go, not wanting a full erection but aware that this one was already over seven inches and thick.

"Is that okay?" I asked, looking up at Joyce. She was staring down at me, a glazed looked in her eyes and her mouth slightly open; after a moment she said, "Perfect."

She took another few shots, "Can you flex your shoulders again, hold your belly tight and lean back a little."

I did as she asked, as I tightened my abs and leaned back I could feel the front of my thighs stretch and tighten and my cock stick out some more. It was a great feeling; a nice stretch, my muscles taut and hard and that tightness you get in your balls when blood is flowing to your cock. I felt so alive and masculine.

I could hear Joyce clicking away and was aware of the others to my left also taking photos, I automatically pulled my abs tighter, causing my cock to rise and protrude even further. This must be some sight.

"Michael could you lean back further?"

I did as Joyce asked until my bum was touching my heels and my shoulders were touching the bench Joyce was stood on. I could see the camera pointing directly down at me, obscuring Joyce's face. I could also see her boobs and the outline of her low cut bra, restrained by her blouse as she leaned forward.

"Michael, rest both hands on the front of your hips, face down, either side of your cock; good! now flex all your arm muscles; wonderful! now tilt your head back slowly, eyes straight ahead."

I got into position, concentrating on flexing hard but staying still at the same time. Wow! Joyce had her legs apart for balance and as I tilted my head back I was between her legs, looking straight up. She must know, in fact I think she wiggled further apart to give me more room and a better view. It's dark near the top but I can see Joyce's creamy thighs touching, the outline of her ass cheeks just visible as her skirt bellows out to cover her round ass.

My view of the rest of the room is obscured by Joyce's legs but to me the atmosphere feels electric. My previously hard cock is now rock hard and erect, my body angle causing it to point up at Joyce. Oh my god! Joyce leans forward to take close ups of my cock, this causes her thighs to tighten and move apart some more, her ass to stick out and her skirt to rise up, letting in more light.

I can see small white panties wedged into her crotch and between her ass cheeks, I feel my cock twitch a little and what I think is pre cum trickle out. This woman could make me explode without even touching me.

I'm expecting Sarah to stop it at any minute, but she doesn't. Joyce leans a bit closer, I can see her hamstrings, defined and tight, leading to her glorious ass. A bit of my brain tells me I need to stop this before it goes any further. I want to speak but don't know if I can, I manage to croak,

"You can squat down if you want, get a closer shot."

I heard gasps from our watchers and a little laugh from Joyce. She stepped down off the bench smiling; she leaned down to me and in a sultry voice said "Naughty!" before leaning in further and kissing me, the tip of her tongue brushing very lightly against my lips. Joyce straightened up and a spontaneous round of applause comes from our audience.

I straightened, slightly embarrassed, I didn't know whether to stand, turn and take a small bow or go and put my dressing gown on. I decided on the dressing gown.

I could hear people chatting and saying how good it was, I put on my dressing gown and turned around. Sarah is chatting to Joyce and calls me over, I'm a bit nervous about this.

"That was fabulous you two, really erotic and sexy. I'm not sure how many photos we took, everyone was too busy watching and holding their breath."

"I got some good close ups, you're a beautiful man and great model," Joyce said.

"Thank you, my view was pretty spectacular too."

The three of us laughed a little and Joyce went a little red, she leaned into us and in a low, conspiratorial voice said, "I haven't felt this turned on in ages, I'll have to take it out on my husband when I get home." We laughed again and I said,

"Lucky husband." Which got me a blush from Joyce and a dirty look from Sarah.

Sarah made a little speech thanking me and thanking the students for their hard work over the previous weeks and saying she was looking forward to the same next term. Belinda asked if I'd be coming back next term and I said I'd love too. After that people began to leave, a few coming over to say goodbye personally.

Joyce came over and gave Sarah a hug and a kiss on the cheeks,

"Thank you, you've really inspired me, I'll be in contact soon." She said to Sarah.

Turning to me she gave me a kiss on the cheek and said "See you sexy man." I blushed a bit.

Belinda came over and gave me a big hug, holding far longer than necessary, grinding herself into me until the obvious effect happened. She let go and gave me a slow kiss on the lips, I dare not move. Her work done, she let go and said "Bye!" before walking out with an exaggerated wiggle. I looked at Sarah who smiled and shook her head as if to say 'Unbelievable' I just tutted and said "Young ones, huh."

After everyone was gone I asked Sarah what she thought of it, she said she'd found some of it hard, feeling more jealous and uncomfortable than she thought she would but that she had managed to relax and really enjoyed the eroticism of it.

She asked how I found it, I said I'd enjoyed every bit of it, feeling incredibly turned on but not able to do anything about it. I also said I enjoyed winding her up and making her jealous, which got me a slap on the arm.

I asked what Joyce had meant by being in contact soon,

"I asked her if she would like to pose for me, to do some couple shoots with you and she said she'd love to." I was speechless, my cock instantly hardening under my gown.

"Would you like to fuck her?"

Without hesitation and with a smirk I answered "Absolutely, I'd like to fuck every bit of her."

Which got me another slap. I turned and walked over to the door and locked it, locking us in and others out. I took Sarah in my arms, kissing her passionately, holding her tight so she could be in no doubt as to how horny I was.

I pushed her to her knees, she opened my gown, my big, hard cock right in front of her face.

"Ooh, you are a naughty, big boy."

"Do you mind if I call you Joyce?" which got me the hardest slap, right across my cock.

Going on holiday and meeting Sarah's parents.

We were getting the 7am flight to Faro, on the south coast of Portugal; and were both weary, having been up late the night before and then up early to travel to the airport. It was only just after five but the traffic was building up already.

"How you doing?" I asked, turning to look at Sarah.

"Good, just tired."

"You looking forward to it?"

"I am. Once we get through the bloody airport and are on the plane I'll perk up a bit; it'll feel like we're on holiday."

I smiled and leaned over and kissed her, and promptly got hooted from the car behind, the traffic having moved off in front of me. We both laughed as we drove off, getting hooted had cheered us up a bit.

The evening before had been strained, partly because of the hassle of packing at the last minute but mainly because of the strange, unfamiliar mood that Sarah was in. Any comments I made or questions I asked were met with sarky, snapped replies. I could have asked her what was bothering her but I had a fairly good idea what the problem was and wanted to get my own head around it first.

At Sarah's request I had spent the previous afternoon posing nude for a group of students she taught photography to. I took a bit of convincing but once the session started I had thoroughly enjoyed it, finding it both liberating and incredibly erotic. Therein lay the problem, I think.

Over the nine months we had been together Sarah had changed me; from a staid, fairly conservative character to a much more outgoing, adventurous one; bringing out my exhibitionist side along the way. We now spent much of our time at home in the nude, Sarah photographing me regularly and even making me the star of her successful photographic exhibition; where there were two whole rooms filled with pictures of cocks; big, small, black, white, every type. She had convinced me, along with herself, to go naked in public, and we had had incredibly hot sexual encounters with her two wild sisters.

Throughout all of this we had grown closer and more in love, planning to get married the following year. Sarah's mantra was that love was a special thing between two people but that sexuality and nudity were the most natural, beautiful things in the world, to be enjoyed and embraced. It was the way she was brought up and she totally believed it. I was way behind her but catching up fast, embracing this new attitude and lifestyle, which brings us to the previous afternoon.

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Wed, 02 Sep 2026 14:43:00 +0000

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 2.

Sarah's cock exhibition opens.

Based on a post by Biggalute. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

"So, can Mike lick my pussy now?" Sadie asked Sarah

"Afraid not, we haven't got a lot of time, we've so much to get ready for the opening tonight."

"Aah that's not fair, both Mike and Ruth got to cum."

"Don't be silly, we all need to have a shower and get moving, use the shower head or something, you'll manage," Sarah answered with a smile.

Sadie sulked off to her bedroom, followed by a nearly recovered Ruth. Sarah looked at me,

"Come on lover boy, we need to get going."

"We need to talk."

"No we don't."

"Yes we do," I answered.

"That was amazing, but it's not right, I love you, I've just had hand sex with your sisters, I love you, it's not right," Sarah put her finger to my lips, I was babbling, the emotions from coming down off my sexual high flowing out of me, I was close to tears.

"Shush, sit down."

I sat, Sarah then sitting on my knee and kissing me gently, holding me tight.

"It's okay, it's okay" she told me "We're fine, I love you too."

As I calmed and my breathing settled Sarah sat back a little and looking intently at me, said

"Listen to me, I told you I was fascinated by cocks," I nodded "Well we're a wild family and the girls are very sexual too, I think we get it off our mother, but that's another story. Anyway what just happened there was amazing, you should have seen your face, but it was just sex, incredible sex, but just sex. I love you very much but I'm happy for you to enjoy sex. As long as I decide who it's with." She said with a smile.

I looked at Sarah, there was some logic to what she said, very twisted logic but logic none the least. I slipped my hand up under the tee shirt she was still wearing, finding a nipple, I pinched it gently.

"Well, can I have sex with you then?"

"No you bloody can't, I have to get ready," and off to the shower she went.

We eventually all ate some breakfast, the girls heading out to do some shopping before going to the gallery to finish things for tonight. Before they went Sarah said.

"See you about 7, everyone's coming for a few nibbles and champers before we start, wish me luck."

"Good luck."

As they headed for the door Ruth gave me a hard slap on the ass, "See you later handsome." They all giggled, they really were a crazy bunch.

As the day wore on I was becoming increasingly nervous, both for Sarah and for myself. I also felt unsettled about the mornings events, however much Sarah laughed it off. I went to the gym which took my mind off it for a little while.

I was worried for Sarah, what if people didn't like or understand her work? She'd put so much of herself into it, she'd be shattered. I also knew that there would be pictures of my cock on display, this could be highly embarrassing, People might not know it's me, but they might.

I arrived shortly after 7 and was surprised that there seemed to about forty people milling around, chatting away. I looked for a face I knew and saw John, Sarah's boss. He came over, gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Welcome, lover boy."

"Hi John, how's it going?"

"Great, great, everything's good. Sarah's flitting around somewhere, as nervous as anything. I told her she shouldn't be though. Her photos look incredible and the gallery people have done a great job with the lighting, really brings out the images."

Just then I heard the loud tapping of a glass.

"Can I have your attention please everyone," It was Marissa the gallery owner. "We're going to go through to the next room where this remarkable and provocative exhibition is being staged. Sarah, the photographer will be at hand to answer any questions you may have and I'll be there to take your money should you wish to buy one," this brought a little laughter from the crowd. "Without further ado please follow me."

I was near the back of the crowd as we moved to the next room, I could hear "Wows" and "Oohs" and even an "Oh my" from the people in front of me as they entered. I walked in and was immediately surrounded by cocks. There were big ones, little ones, black ones, brown ones. Seemingly every type and shape. Who did they all belong too, when had she taken them?

John was beside me and as if reading my mind said,

"A lot of cocks isn't there, but don't worry I think yours is by far the nicest."

"Thanks," I said, a bit sarcastically.

"There's thirty four images in total, I think eight are of you, although she may have blended some images together."

"Wow, it's amazing, startling," I said. And it really was, the way the images were displayed and lit within the small room made you feel like you were being watched and followed by cocks. Mind blowing stuff.

Sadie came over to me.

"It's great isn't it?"

"Yes, amazing."

"I'll say one thing for my sister, she had plenty of spunk to take these pictures," She said, the double entendre fully intended.

"Um" I said, smiling.

"I think Sarah's over there talking to some people, will I get her?"

"No not at all, leave her be, I'll catch her later."

I started to wander around the exhibition, they really were startling, thought inspiring images and under normal circumstances or if I had been more mature I might have appreciated them more. As it was I spent my time trying to identify my cock and comparing it with others on show.

For the most part they seemed to be an arty type of crowd. I overheard one lady discussing one of my pics, she turned to her companion and said,

"It does make one consider the juxtaposed roles of the penis in our society." Load of bollocks.

I was stood looking at a flaccid, uncircumcised cock, very wrinkled, reminding me of a Pugs face when I became aware of a tall West Indian guy stood next to me.

"Hi, I'm Leon," he introduced himself. "I'm one of the cocks in the pictures," pointing to an image over to our right. It was erect, long, maybe longer than mine, and thin.

I looked at Leon, he was a couple of inches taller than me but not as broad. He was obviously very proud of himself and happy to be in the exhibition. I didn't want to get into a cock comparing competition with him, or for that matter chat to someone who might be an old boyfriend of Sarah's. But not wanting to be rude either I said,

"Hi, I'm Mike, I'm in a couple of photos too."

"You must be the really thick one, congratulations."

"Thanks." This evening was becoming more bizarre by the minute.

I was saved by Ruth and Sadie coming over to me, all giggly and flirty, they took me by the arms.

"How you doing, big boy?"

"A bit overwhelmed and freaked if I'm to be honest."

"Relax, just concentrate on what an amazing photographer and artist our sister is. Come over here, there's someone Sarah wants you to meet."

Sarah was talking to a small, well groomed man, mid thirties I would guess, the word dapper came to mind.

"Darling I'd like you meet Steve Linwood. Steve is an art dealer and feels he can sell some of my work for far more than I'm asking here. Steve this is my fiancé and muse, Michael."

"Nice to meet you Michael," Steve said, offering his hand. "I was just saying to Sarah how much I loved her work, very provocative and salable in today's market. I asked her about her inspiration and she offered to introduce us."

"Nice to meet you too Steve, she is a very talented and inspiring lady."

"I particularly like this one," he said, pointing to a close up shot of my erect knob. It was an impressive picture, Sarah had manipulated shading and different light into the picture, giving the impression of different textures along the length of my cock. I went into complete bullshit mode,

"It's one of my favorites too, very evocative, it brings to mind the power and the vulnerability of the penis." Sarah just glared at me.

"I couldn't have said it better myself. Wonderful work, Sarah I'll be in touch," Steve said, wandering off.

"What's with all the evocative bullshit talk?" Sarah asked

"Just expressing ones considered opinion," I said in my best high highfalutin voice. "And what's all this about me being your fiancé?"

"Oh that, well I decided a few weeks ago that we should get married, I just hadn't told you yet."

Sarah looked at me, "What do you say?"

"I say yes."

Sarah nearly jumped into my arms, we kissed.

"I love you."

"Right, put me down, I have some photos to sell," and she was off, buzzing around the place.

One thing was for certain, my life with Sarah would never be boring.

We were sat around after the exhibition, myself and Sarah, her sisters and John and Marissa. They were downing the remaining Champagne and celebrating a great evening. Sarah stood up and announced our engagement, cheers and kisses all around. I got a big smacker from John and even a little peck from the ice cool Marissa. I got a luscious kiss off of Ruth followed by a sultry "Welcome to our family". Whilst a tipsy Sadie tried to snog me and said a little bit to loudly, "You might be marrying my sister but you still owe me a good tonguing." This got her a slap on the ass and a "Dirty bitch," from Sarah. What a family.

They were all full of beans and wanted to carry on partying. All I wanted to do was take Sarah home. I think Sarah was a bit torn but knew by the look on my face that I really wanted and needed her. So we went home whilst the others went clubbing.

Sarah was mellowing out by the time we got home, the excitement and buzz of the day fading away. we just looked at each other and said, "lets go to bed."' Sarah was cuddled into me, her hand on my cock, not moving, just holding it. I could sense her body relaxing, sleep not far away. I chose my moment.

"So tell me about the other cocks," I said, trying to sound more serious than I actually was.

"What, well, what did you mean?" Sarah said, her body awaking and tensing a bit.

"Well there was a lot of them, whose were they all?"

"All sorts, friends, family, strangers."

"Family?"

"Just the one" Sarah laughed "Of my dad, years ago on holiday, it was the little wrinkled one."

"Did he know?"

"God no, although I don't think he would really have minded."

"And how'd you get ones of strangers?"

"Just walk up and ask them."

"No fucking way."

"Yep, it's amazing what a pretty girl can get away with."

"Tart"

"I know."

"And how would you persuade them?"

"I have my ways."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Go on, tell me."

"Lets just say I sometimes used my womanly wiles, very effective they were too."

"Tart."

"They obviously work on you" Sarah's hand started to move up and down my now rock hard cock

"God, I think it's actually getting bigger over time," Sarah said.

"Must have been the good pulling your sisters gave it this morning, stretched it."

"Now who's the tart?""

"Me, me, me, but I'm your tart."

'I know."

I was actually a bit nervous the next morning, not really wanting a repeat of the previous days shenanigans. I needn't have worried, both girls were far too hungover to worry about anything other than their headaches. They looked amazingly sexy and quite adorable as they sat round in their short tee shirts, complaining that their heads hurt and that they felt sick.

Myself and Sarah had decided to go back to our nudist ways, me figuring the girls had seen and felt plenty the day before and wouldn't be offended. They were either completely okay with it or completely oblivious as they didn't even make a smart comment. I however was not oblivious, both girls had big boobs and as they moved around I could see their nipples getting harder as they rubbed against the material. Very distracting.

Ruth seemed the more hungover of the two, she was sat at one end of the sofa, with Sarah cuddled up to me at the other end and Sadie sat on the armchair reading a magazine.

"I Really feel like crap," said Ruth, and with that she swung her legs around and pulled them up tight to her chest. Oh my good god. My cock had been semi hard the whole morning, what with being nude and three sexy women around me, but now it went rock hard, completely independent of my brain. Here only a few feet from me was the most gorgeous nude pussy I had ever seen, the lips glistening and slightly apart.

"Nice, uh," said Sarah following my gaze

"Very," I said

"It looks delicious."

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Tue, 01 Sep 2026 14:41:00 +0000

Sarah's Phallic Fascination: Part 1.

A story of sin, salvation and sex.

Based on a post by Biggalute. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

"I want to sleep with you!" Sarah said.

"What", "Wow", "Yeah," or words to that effect stumbled from my mouth. Or maybe I said nothing, so dumbfounded was I. Sarah smiled, her green eyes twinkling. Sensing and probably enjoying my confusion she leaned forward and whispered in my ear,"I said I want to sleep with you tonight, what do you say?"

"Err, yes."

"Good," she clinked her bottle off of mine, "Don't drink too many of those," and was gone, saying something about wanting to mingle some more before we left.

This was wild, I hadn't been with a woman or even tried to chat one up, not sober at least, in over two years and now a beautiful woman who I hardly knew had just said she wanted to sleep with me. How did I get here?

I'd scraped through college, I was bright but much more interested in drinking and fucking than I was in any text books. I finished college and moved back to London and somehow landed a nice little number as a trader in an investment bank. It was busy, which l enjoyed, the money was very good and so was the partying.

After a while my drinking was becoming a problem both for me and my employer. They gave me two weeks leave and told me to sort myself out. I found a nice clinic where they gave me nice pills, spoke nicely, told me I was cured and gave me a nice big bill.

I obviously wasn't 'cured' but I had gone a period of time without a drink, gotten over the worst of the Hebe-gee bees and with support from friends and some heavy duty benzos managed to stay off the grog. My main boss, it turned out, had been an addict himself and proved to be quite understanding; in fact it was him who suggested I join a gym, and so it was that I replaced one addiction with another, albeit a much healthier one.

Six months into my new life and I'm in the gym almost nightly, giving it large, muscles bulging, heart pounding, sweat pouring; I loved it. I'd never felt so good.

One evening at the gym a very vaguely familiar face wanders over,

'It's Mike, isn't it?"

"Yes that's right, sorry, do I know you?"

"Barry, Barry Jones. We met a few times at Uni."

"When I saw you come in I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn't place you."

Barry says not to worry, I was very pissed the few time we met, probably hard to remember. After a bit more small talk he asks, "Do you remember Liz Cordon?"

"I do," I say. "Beautiful looking girl, big boobs, always flirting and trying to cajole people into joining some student society or other."

Barry laughs, "That's the one, we're engaged now."

I felt myself redden a bit, "Sorry mate, didn't mean to be insulting."

"No worries," he smiled. "Liz would probably agree with that description herself. Anyway, we're having a BBQ Saturday night, you should come along, Liz would love to meet you again and there should be a few others you know too."

Now it's not that I don't like Barbecues, but the thought of being around lots of people drinking worries me, also I often acted like a complete bollix when at Uni, and then there's the question of women.

I was, somehow, quite successful with women, my often drunken patter charming the knickers off of more than a few of my fellow students. The prospect of meeting someone I had either slept with or had offended, or maybe both of these things, really didn't appeal.

I reluctantly agreed, and so on a balmy Saturday evening in July I bought a bottle of wine and a six pack of non alcoholic beer for myself and went to the BBQ.

Liz was as vivacious as l remembered her, giving me a big hug, seemingly unaware of the effects her big boobs could have on a man when pressed into his chest. I was introduced to a few people I didn't know and then found myself a little corner where l could stand and take it all in. It was then that Sarah came over to me, she told me we had met twice at parties and that l had twice tried my hardest to chat her up, I said it surely couldn't have been my hardest, which got a little laugh. A little bit more small talk and then Bam! "I want to sleep with you."

Anyone looking at me as Sarah walked away would surely have seen a large, grown man with his jaw hanging open. I really was taken aback.

After I had re gathered my composure I spent the rest of the evening making small talk and stealing glances at Sarah, studying her face, unmade up as far as I could tell but with a glowing, English rose like complexion. And wondering, wondering what lie ahead and also what lie beneath her leggings and the loose, white, thigh length shirt she was wearing. Finally she came over to me.

"You ready to go?"

"Yes."

We walked out of the house, a few knowing glances and nods bidding us farewell.

"Where too?" Sarah asked.

"I only live about fifteen minutes walk away so we could go there."

"Perfect."

As we rounded the first corner Sarah stopped me, put her hand behind my head and brought me down for a kiss. I've had plenty of kisses before, but none like this. It seemed to go on forever, sending sensations through my whole body, l actually felt my knees start to buckle.

"Wow."

Sarah smiled coyly, she took my hand and we began to walk. After no more than ten steps it was my turn, l nearly lifted her off the ground in my eagerness to kiss her, this time it was her turn to say,

"Wow, at this rate we'll never get to yours." We both laughed like love struck kids.

We walked, talked and laughed. She said that she'd liked me when we'd met before but that I was too much of a pisshead and that I was much nicer sober. She told me she worked as a graphic designer but really wanted to be a professional photographer. l talked about my work and my battle with the booze. Only as l was putting the key in the lock did the reality of what we were planning to do hit me.

"Nice apartment."

"Thanks."

"You live here alone?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Sarah just smiled and asked for the bathroom. Whilst she was gone l was thinking. Up to this point Sarah had been very assertive and seemed to know exactly what she wanted, which was both a new and enjoyable experience for me, but l was a bit conflicted, my alpha side telling me to take control.

"You found it Okay?"

"Yes thanks, I must say this place is very neat and tidy, for a bachelor pad."

"Confession, I have a cleaner come in once a week."

"That explains it."

We both smiled and looked at each other.

"Where's the bedroom?"

"Through there, but l want you to take your clothes off here," I said, trying to slow my breathing and sound calm.

Sarah stared at me, then with a slight grin started to unbutton her shirt. I knew from cuddling Sarah earlier that she was slim and small breasted, not my normal 'type', but as she slowly worked her way down, it was all I could do not to let my tongue hang out, or burst out of my trousers for that matter.

As she removed her shirt I could see that she wore no bra under her thin, delicately laced camisole, the outline of her small breasts and erect nipples clearly visible. Sarah never took her eyes off of me as she lifted it slowly over her head, standing, almost challenging me to absorb every inch of her. After a few seconds she slowly turned, showing me her slim, finely muscled back. It was only then that I noticed how toned her whole body was, defined arms and back and slim legs leading to an incredibly pert bum, still hidden under her leggings.

The sexual tension was incredible, she stood facing me again, an eyebrow gently raised, questioning. What do you think? Shall I continue? I smiled and gave a little nod, this was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

Sarah chuckled, " You're enjoying this." She blew me a kiss, lightning the mood and breaking the spell and in what looked like one movement removed her leggings and shoes.

She stood naked and proud, " What do you think?"

"Beautiful."

She walked forward and gave me the lightest of kisses, "Your turn now."

Moving sensually was not my thing, so l just took a deep breath and stripped, Sarah standing with an amused smirk, particularly when I had to stretch my underpants outwards to get them over my engorged cock.

"Golly, that's bigger and more beautiful than I had heard."

"Excuse me?"

"Your cock and what you could do with it were the talk of the student bars."

"Piss off."

"Well maybe not quite, but still you had a reputation."

"Blimey!"

She winked at me, "I like nice cocks, that's why I wanted to sleep with you."

"Use me and abuse me why don't you."

"l fully intend to."

Sarah grabbed my cock with a surprisingly strong grip and started to pump it slowly.

"Ooh this is going to be fun, it's not the longest I've seen but it's certainly the thickest, my fingers are nowhere near touching."

Now l like dirty talk as much as the next man but I was beginning to get a little bit freaked.

"How many have you seen?"

"Ooh lots," She said, her rhythm on my cock never changing. "I'm quite an aficionado, in fact you could say I'm fascinated by them."

Now I would have like to have asked her more but all I could manage was a groan, the rhythmic pumping having the desired effect. Sarah knew she had me, she brought her other hand around and gently squeezed my balls. "Come with me," and with that she lead me, by the cock, into the bedroom.

We stopped just before the bed, Sarah kissed me, her hand never leaving my cock.

"Lay down, I'm going to fuck your brains out."

I did as she said, propping myself up on the pillows so I could watch Sarah. She positioned herself between my legs, running her hands up my body, slowly tracing the outline of the muscles, stopping with her head beside my cock. "I don't think there's any chance of that fitting in my mouth," she said, before running her tongue the length of it and sticking her tongue into the slit, eliciting groans of both pain and pleasure, so sensitive was it. "Ooh sorry," Sarah said, before kissing it better, which was both adorable and delicious.

Sarah raised herself up, her eyes locked into mine as she straddled me. I don't think my cock has ever been as hard, aching , so engorged was it. Sarah grabs a hold and positions me at her opening then stops, staring at me with a devilish look. She lets go and starts to tease her clit before slipping two fingers into herself. Her expression changes, eyes closed as she starts frigging herself hard. God she is so hot. I'm completely mesmerized by Sarah, holding my breath as she's pants, writhes and shudders into what looks like the most intense orgasm I have ever seen. She's gone, half open eyes looking but not seeing, lost and vulnerable in that intense, incredible feeling. I sit forward and put my arms around Sarah, holding her close, her head nestled into my lightly haired chest. As her breathing settles Sarah looks at me.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"For not fucking you." And then half-heartedly, "We could do it now."

"Don't spoil it, that was the most erotic, intense thing I have ever seen, it was mind blowing for me so god only knows how you must feel." I brush the hair from her face, I honestly think this is the sexiest woman I have ever met. "Lay down," I say.

We lay making small talk, Sarah cuddled into me, her head on my right shoulder, her right arm across me and my hand firmly on her bum, my middle finger just lying between her cheeks. This feels so gorgeous and so right.

Sarah started tracing shapes across my skin with the lightest touch of her fingers. Now although I still felt horny, the horniness had been tempered by the contentedness that I felt in having this incredible woman close to me. But once her fingers started moving, my libido went into overdrive, my skin on fire and my cock rock hard, touching my belly button and ready to do some serious damage.

Sarah sensed my tension, her hand reaching down and touching me, her fingers feeling slightly sticky as they touched my hot skin.

"Oh my god! That feels even bigger than before."

"I really need to explode, I want to be deep inside you."

Sarah didn't say anything she just bit my chest,

"Ouch."

She pulled me over and wriggled under me at the same time, our faces only inches apart as I supported my weight.

"I want you to fuck me so hard, Drill me, Screw me." Sarah put her arms around my neck and pulled her face to mine, kissing and biting my lips, frenzied in her passion.

I put a hand between us and pinched her nipple hard,

"Ouch, harder!"

I pinched again, holding the pressure there.

"Fuck Me!"

Both our hands went down, Sarah holding her pussy lips open as I started to slowly push into her, aware of my size and her small frame.

"Harder," Sarah barked, biting and scratching, pushing herself onto me. Meeting each one of my thrusts with one of her own, she wrapped her legs around me, opening herself up and pulling me in at the same time.

The sheer animal brutality of it proved to much, I exploded with a force I didn't think possible. I know it's only a few cc but it felt like gallons, wave after wave, spasm after spasm.

Sarah held on tight, not allowing our bodies to part or my cock to leave her hot, glorious hole.

"Kneel up," she said and I knelt back on my haunches, easily bringing Sarah with me. I was suddenly acutely aware of the difference in our sizes. I was a muscular, broad shouldered six footer and she was a slim, small boned woman. I must have easily been twice her weight. Surely I must have hurt her.

I kissed her, "That was amazing, incredible," I said.

"Yes it was."

"Thank you," I kissed her again, holding her tightly. "I'm sorry if I was a bit rough, I hope I didn't hurt you."

As if by answer Sarah pushed herself down on me and held my soft cock tight with her pussy, "No, maybe bruised my cervix a bit, but apart from that.." I looked at Sarah, her face breaking into a gorgeous smile, her eyes twinkling, letting me know she was joking me. I smiled, god I could love this woman.

The next morning I awoke and was aware of Sarah sat up in the bed next to me, sketching on a note pad that I normally leave in the kitchen. She leaned down and kissed me.

"Morning sleepy head, I helped myself to coffee, I hope you don't mind."

"No of course not."

"Would you like a cup?"

"Yes please."

Sarah jumped out of bed and went to the kitchen, god, she really was gorgeous, lithe and energetic and seemingly completely at ease with herself and her naked body. I leant over and picked up the pad from the bedside cabinet where Sarah had left it. On it was a drawing of a mans midsection, presumably mine, covering from halfway up my thighs to just below my rib cage. I'm not artistically natured, but to me it seemed very good. Sarah returned with the coffee.

"That's a very good drawing."

"Thanks, I hope you didn't mind me drawing you why you were still asleep." I shook my head

"There's another one on the previous page."

I flipped over the page to be greeted by a very detailed drawing of my penis, veins and all.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting that," I said, Sarah just smiled at me. I looked at it some more, "It nearly looks like there's colors in it, how'd you do that?"

"It's just shading, gives that effect."

"Very good."

"I hope you don't mind, I loved the look of it when I woke up and wanted to draw it."

"No I don't mind, you wouldn't know it was mine, it could be anyone's."

"I'd always know it was yours."

"Do you draw pictures of all the cocks you've seen?"

"No, I normally take photos of them."

Before I could say anymore Sarah kissed me deeply and this inevitably lead to another rip-roaring love making session. Oh, and my coffee went cold.

We spent the rest of the day together, in fact over the next couple of weeks we spent nearly all our free time together mainly at mine as Sarah shared an apartment. Sarah was as good as her word and started taking some photos of me, awake and with my permission, often my genitals but other parts also.

One evening Sarah said her flat mate was moving out and she'd have to get someone else in to share the rent. I said it would make more sense if she moved in with me.

"Don't you think that's a big step for us to take?"

"It is, but you're here most of the time, which I love and I like the idea of you living here, if you want to."

Sarah was quite for a time and then said "I'd love to," and with a smile, "I can be your live in lover, you can be my muse, I can take photos and draw pictures of you whenever I want."

"Um" I said.

She seemed to work in body parts, rarely taking ones of my face or whole body. I was happy with my body and enjoyed the attention. I'll admit that I found it an incredible turn on having this beautiful woman take pictures of my body. Whenever she was taking ones of my prick I would very quickly get a hard on which Sarah would give out about as it wasn't always the shot she was after.

"I already have lots of pics of your ginormous, gorgeous hard-on, I want ones of it flaccid or semi-hard."

"I know, but I can't help it, it's the effect you have on me."

We tried taking shots after sex, but nothing was as guaranteed to get me hard again as Sarah getting her camera or phone and taking photos.

"There's only one thing for it, whenever we're both at home you have to be naked, you can't possibly stay hard the whole time, that way I'll get lots of different shots."

"What!, you want me to prance around twerking naked, just so you can take some photos."

"Yes," she laughed. Coming over to me she took my cock in her soft hands "It'll be fun, and I'll join you in the buff, we'll live naked."

I wanted to argue, but Sarah knew the way to a mans heart wasn't through his stomach but somewhere south of that, and by twisting her wrist, twisted me around her finger in two seconds flat.

So it was that we started living naked, this was no problem for Sarah who even as a child had been on naturist holidays with her parents and seemed happier out of clothes than in them. For me it was more problematic, do you know how dodgy it is to open a hot oven with a big dong sticking out in front of you? It can be eye watering to say the least. Sarah took great delight in first buying and then dressing me up in a flowery little apron.

I came to love being naked and whilst nakedness in of itself isn't necessarily sexual, our nakedness certainly was, every time we would touch it was electric, no hiding our arousal, whether it was Sarah's erect nipples and delicious wet pussy or my hard cock and whimpering like a dog on heat every time Sarah would even just put her hands on my hips, or better still, run her finger up the crack of my ass.

The photography, our original reason for going naked, was now nearly secondary. Sarah would snap away whenever the mood took her. I asked a few times to see the shots she had taken but Sarah said she either wasn't happy with them or wanted me to wait till she printed them. Pretty lame excuses but I wasn't fussed, I was in love with the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I had ever met, on top of which we lived naked and fucked nearly every single day.

One afternoon Sarah phoned and said she and her boss were taking a good client out for a meal that night and probably drink

University of TITS: Part 10

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Mon, 31 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 10

In the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, there is a university dedicated to the sciences. In the time when great benefactors like Carnegie & Vanderbilt were establishing institutions to advance the knowledge of mankind, a private college was founded.
But some knowledge is older than the very hills where this campus was built.
Join us for a series of stories. Learn how generations of scholars have seen their lives changed by what they experienced at T I T S.

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Randy’s Girlfriend, Emily, contends with Her Aunt Ruth’s Buxom Delights.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

My girlfriend and I were visiting her Mom for the week between semesters at T I T S. Yeah, I know. It's a funny acronym. Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science is a well-respected but little known university. I went there because I was an athlete and they offered a full ride. Emily was there because the women in her family had been attending for generations. Her Mom and Aunt had both graduated. Her Grandma had gone there and a whole bunch of other women in the family had attended as well.

Emily and I had only been dating for a little while but I knew as soon as I met her that I was interested. Really interested. When I first saw Emily she had been sunbathing behind her dorm in a secluded little nook. As soon as she realized that I had stumbled across her Emily put on a bulky hoodie. But it had been too late! Emily was one of those quietly sexy girls. She had big tits, slender waist and legs that went on forever. You would have no idea if you had not seen her in a bikini as I had! In everyday life, Emily looked like a nerd. Well, she was a nerd! Smart as a whip, she usually wore glasses which hid her amazing blue eyes. She held her hair back with a plastic headband and wore bulky loose clothes that gave no hint as to the amazing body underneath!

I was smart enough to play it slow. I introduced myself in the cafeteria that served the four dorms in our quadrant. I struck up a conversation a couple of times and didn't push things. When I finally asked her out we had been talking for a couple of weeks. Later Emily told me that she had decided that I was gay because I didn't hit on her at once. She was actually relieved that I asked her out since she liked me!

Anyway, we were still getting to know each other. Nothing more than a few kisses between us, no fooling around. No hanky-panky. But we were building up to it, I thought.

So we were visiting her Mom, who was divorced. Her Mom lived with her sister, Aunt Ruth in a nice rancher on the edge of town.

Her Mom seemed to be a traditional housewife. When we first met she told me to call her "Mom.” She worked part time in a daycare facility. Around the house she usually wore an apron, Mom jeans and loose blouses. Mom wasn't as well built as Emily who I had discovered, wore a Double F cup bra! (I found out by snooping around her laundry basket!) Aunt Ruth was an Executive Assistant at some tech start-up. She was a stout woman. Short and stately. Really stately!

Oh hell, 'Stately’ is a euphemism for giant tits! You could not miss them! It's not like she was a show off. She wore a lot of roomy cardigan sweaters, and floppy tops. But there was no way she could hide those two enormous tits no matter how she dressed! I could see them coming and going. In profile she was just amazing!

Mom had insisted that Emily and I have different rooms, which was fine with me. Emily and I had not had any really intimate contact and I wasn't going to be comfortable sleeping in the same room even if we did have separate beds!

During dinner, that first night, I got the feeling that Aunt Ruth was checking me out. She smiled at me. I think she even winked at me a time or two. But I decided that I was just imagining things.

I volunteered to put the dishes in the dishwasher after I cleared the table. Mom and Emily sat down to watch some TV and Aunt Ruth wandered into the kitchen.

She leaned up against the counter and watched me rinse the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

"Emily has done well for herself. You're a real cutie," she told me while smiling at me.

"Well, thank you, Aunt Ruth. That's very kind of you."

"Emily told us that you are an athlete. A gymnast, she said."

"That's right. I'm a gymnast."

"I guess that means that you are all muscular and toned, right?"

"Oh, well," I started to say. But Aunt Ruth didn't wait for me to finish the sentence. She reached out and pulled my shirt up to my shoulders!

"Oh, My! Look at all those muscles! You could be a fitness model! Look at your abs! And pecs!" She was running her hands over me as she spoke. She fluttered her fingertips over my nipples and pinched each one.

"Are you sensitive?" She asked.

"Um yeah, I guess." I admired.

"Have you and Emily gotten to know each other yet?"

"Not really. We've only been dating a few weeks" I told her.

"I bet you like how well stacked she is, don't you?"

"Um,”

Aunt Ruth slipped out of the bulky cardigan she was wearing.

"You can tell me the truth. I mean, look at me!" She arched her back while smiling up at me. She was wearing a sleeveless pull over that barely stretched enough to contain those amazingly huge tits!

I now had a clear look at just how busty Aunt Ruth was! And she was Busty. Aunt Ruth had, by far, the largest set of tits I had ever seen in real life. I had seen pictures of women that were similar. But they were probably photo-shopped. Or they had had tit augmentation several times. That was not the case with Aunt Ruth, I was sure!

A little embarrassed, I looked away after my first glance.

"You don't have to be shy," Aunt Ruth told me with a chuckle. "I know what I look like. I like what I look like! I like the attention that my huge tits draw from men and women! There aren't many women around that are as well built as I am! I have to get my bras custom made as well as most of my blouses and tops. When you have a sixty inch bust riding over a twenty eight inch waist and forty-two inch hips you tend to attract a lot of attention. And I enjoy the attention!" While she was talking she had started to swivel her shoulders from side to side which caused her boobs to quiver and shimmy to and fro!

I admit I was watching. Hell, I was staring! Sixty inch tits? Holy Smokes! I couldn't take my eyes off them! Aunt Ruth was now bouncing on her toes and her melons were rising and falling!

While she had been talking she had continued to stroke her hands over my torso. Once in a while she would grip my ass which would result in her pressing those giant tits against me. I have to admit that I was getting aroused from watching her tease me!

And Aunt Ruth noticed the result. I was sprouting a hard-on.

"Oh, my. Look at this!" she exclaimed as she stroked my growing erection thru my pants. "You have a big stiffie don't you Randy? Is it going to get bigger?" She smiled into my eyes while keeping one hand on my abdominals and the other on my cock. I was so shocked that I couldn't move! Emily hadn't fondled my erection yet! And here was her built-like-a-brick-shithouse Aunt groping me in the kitchen!

"How big do you get, Randy?"

"I haven't measured it," I told her. "But it gets bigger!" I couldn't keep a touch of pride out of my voice. I knew that I had a big cock. I hadn't measured it, though.

"Well, let me take care of this and I'll measure it for you, Honey!"

"But Aunt Ruth! What about Emily?"

"What about her? She hasn't had any experience. I think one of you should know what you're doing when you crawl into bed together. And who better to learn from than Aunt Ruth, who has had a lot of experience? I'd love to share what I have learned with you! Now come here!"

Using my erection as a handle Aunt Ruth dragged me to her bedroom.

She gently sat me down on her bed and caressed my groin thru my pants. It wasn't long before I was at full strength. At some point she had pulled my hands to her tits and encouraged me to fondle them!

She wasn't wearing a bra! There was just huge mountains of tit flesh with a thin cotton layer between them and my hands1

There was no way I could control those marvelously massive mounds of mammary flesh. But I tried. I squeezed, pinched, pushed and pulled on her tits. I was having a blast playing with the largest boobs I had ever imagined.

"Hold on a moment, Randy," she told me. Leaning away from me she slipped her arms out of the pull-over that she had on. She was smiling into my eyes as she pulled down her neckline until her tits tumbled out into the open! Her nipples were hard and poked out almost an inch from the surrounding flesh.

"Now keep on going! I was enjoying what you were doing!"

She didn't have to ask twice! I pulled on her nipples to make them protrude even further. Then I strummed them with my thumbs and finally I leaned down enough that I could wrap my lips around her nearest nipple to suck and lick.

Aunt Ruth was moaning and letting out little yips of happiness while I worked. She used both hands to pull me tightly to her tits. It was difficult to get a deep breathe from under all that tit! But I struggled thru!

"Honey, you do that so well! I love the feelings your lips and tongue are giving me! Don't stop! But let me get this out into the open where I can deal with it!"

She pushed me away from her just enough that she was able to unzip and open my fly. It was a struggle for her but she managed to extract my erection from my pants.

"Oh, my God, I need both hands to hold this huge cock! I've never had one like this before! I want to find out how big it is, Randy. Let me measure it, please? I promise I'll take good care of it for you but I need to see what I'm working with!"

In a flash she bounced off the bed and grabbed a tape measure that was on her dresser. As she came back to where I was sitting her tits were shaking and knocking into each other. It was a hell of a sight! She took a moment to stand in front of me allowing me to get a good look at her. 'Top heavy' didn't begin to describe Aunt Ruth. Her tits stuck out past her shoulders and filled her torso from just below her armpits to past her waist. She had said sixty inches and I didn't doubt it for a moment!

Her nipples, centered in areola the size of saucers, pointed away from each other. Somehow,, despite their overwhelming size they managed to look perky! I just wanted to drive my head between them and motorboat her until I passed out!

She sat back down next to me. She carefully put one end of the tape on top of my cock where it met my abdomen. Then she pulled the tape the length of my cock unit she had it all the way to the tip of my cock head.

"Oh, Randy! Look at this! Just over 11 1/2 inches long! That's insane! And thick!" She wrapped her tape around the thickest part. "Oh, Jesus help me! Almost exactly 7 inches in circumference! I can't touch my middle finger to my thumb! It's too thick! I can't imagine what this is going to feel like! I can't wait to find out!"

"Randy, if you want to attract the ladies wear a pair of grey sweat pants! It will let your huge cock be noticed! Women like me love that sort of thing!"

Aunt Ruth gave me my first lesson then. She didn't rush! She worked slowly to undress me. She took time to make sure that I was thoroughly kissed as she worked. She would unbutton a couple of buttons and then lick and kiss the skin that she had exposed. Her fingers explored what she had found.

By the time she had me naked I swear my cock was harder and longer than when she started. Of course she had been rubbing herself against me this whole time. Her tits were so big that just one of them was able to completely cover my chest.

Her nipples were rock hard as she make sure to rub them against me time and again.

"I can't wait to see what your huge cock is going to feel like, Randy! But I want to be in charge, I want to ride you like a cowgirl! Let me get you nice and slippery and then I'll ride you like a bucking, fucking bronco!

She slid down my body and took the head of my cock into her mouth. It wasn't easy! I could see that she was having a hard time!

"So thick and so big! Let me try this,” She slid her lips down one side and up the other. She did this three or four times. Her tongue came out to spread her saliva all over me. The excess slipped down to cool my balls.

She slid up and battered my face with her tits. She swung them to and fro, forcing my head deeper and deeper into her cleavage! It was dark and warm in there! I was gasping for air when she pulled back.

There was a hot look in her eyes as she knelt above me. I couldn't see what was happening. Her enormous tits were resting heavily on my torso as she leaned over me. They blocked my view. Her tits overlapped my torso by almost a foot on either side. I had no hope of seeing what she was doing! But I could feel it as she rubbed my cock against the lips of her cunt. She was dripping wet and between what her cunt was oozing out and the saliva that she had spread around there was plenty of lubrication.

"Oh, this is going to be great! Let me,” her voice died away as she sank slowly down my shaft.

"Oh, fuck! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! So thick and long and it feels amazing as I get to take more and more of you!" Thanks to her efforts she had managed to jam the head of my cock between her nether lips. But there was still nine or ten inches of steel hard shaft to go!

Aunt Ruth kept up her efforts. Her mountainous tits kept up a rhythmic pace against me as she rocked back and forth. Even when she leaned back her tits still rested upon my chest! I could feel her nipples as they scrapped against me. She was taking almost half of my shaft as she worked. I could see the heat in her eyes rising as she got closer and closer to reaching an orgasm!

"Don't help," she gasped. I realized that I had started to drive my hips up into her. Apparently I had inadvertently given her more than she could handle at the moment. I relaxed and let my hips rest on the mattress while she kept rising and falling working to take more and more!

"I want it all!" She gasped! "But I have to work up to it." Her hips rested on my groin far a short moment and then she began again.

After pounding herself up and down for another several minutes she froze in place! I could feel her cunt clamping and releasing me as she began to cum and cum. Her eyes were closed but tears were leaking down her cheeks as she experienced a massive orgasm.

When she stopped shaking and quivering she slowly drew herself up and off me. My groin was soaked with her juices!

Breathing heavily Aunt Ruth slumped forward and her tits completely enveloped me! My head disappeared from view in her cleavage! Boobs bigger than basketballs rested on the mattress to either side of my head, covered my shoulders and held my arms immobile!

After a few moments I struggled to roll Aunt Ruth off me. As I did so my hard-on slid back into her. It was only a couple of inches but it was enough to cause her to groan in response.

Aa soon as I was on top I started to thrust myself lightly into her. Reflexively her legs came up and wrapped around my waist. Her arms entwined around my neck and she was panting into my ear as I worked.

It didn't take Aunt Ruth long to reach another climax. Again she was moaning and groaning while using her arms and legs to pull me tightly against her amazing bosom!

"Please, honey, please cum for me! I've never been fucked like this before. Guys usually paw at my huge melons, thrust into my active cunt and cum almost at once. Sometimes I'll get a second go-round with them but it never lasts as long as you have! You are amazing, Randy, just amazing! Squeeze my tits and pinch my nipples and cum for me, please!

It was hard to keep my hands on her nipples because her tits were making huge movements. But I pinched, and squeezed and licked and sucked as best I could. Frankly it was watching her eyes as she came again that tipped me over the edge.

"I'm cumming, Aunt Ruth, I'm cumming!" I announced.

"Over me! Cum all over me, Randy! I want to see you blast you load all over me,' She was crying in happiness!

I ripped myself from between her cunt lips, dropped my big hard-on onto her stomach and shot off three or four ropes of cum before I pushed myself between her titans and dropped the rest of my jizz between her tits. She grabbed hold of her tits and pushed and pulled on them. When she pulled her hands apart we both could see how my cum was coating the inner slopes of both of her tits!

Aunt Ruth was smiling and giggling as she pushed my jizz around with both hands.

"So warm!" She smiled up at me. "So good and warm! I love your cum! It’s so tasty! How did you get so good at sex? You've worn me out, stud! Now kiss me and let me get some rest! You are the best! I've never been fucked so well! I will want lots more, you know!"

Aunt Ruth patted me on the cheek, gave me a peck and rolled over. She was asleep by the time I was closing the door behind me!

I was worn out, too. I decided to go to my room and see if I could get a nap. Luckily I didn't bump into anyone on my way. I closed the door behind me, dropped onto the bed and was asleep as my head hit the pillow!

I woke up from my nap when someone sat down on the edge of my bed. It was Aunt Ruth. She was smiling down at me, looking over the huge shelf that her tits made under her tee shirt.

The tee shirt red "Big, Aren’t They?"

Aunt Ruth smirked at me as she shimmied her shoulders. Her boobs bounced and heaved, the movement caused her massive milkers to work her shirt free of the shorts she had on.

"Can I tell you something?" She asked. Her mams were still moving gently as I watched.

"Sure, I suppose so," I replied.

"I'm not embarrassed by how large my tits are. I know that a lot of folks think I should be. But I'm proud that I have the largest tits most people have ever seen. And that they are natural, not the result of some medical procedure. I measure around sixth inches most of the time. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. But I love them! I love the attention I get from men and women who see them."

She was still smiling as she worked to draw her t-shirt up and off her chest. Her immense boobs bounced out the bottom of her shirt, exposing her erect nipples. She dropped the shirt on the floor and started to fondle, tweak and excite her nipples.

University of TITS: Part 9

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sun, 30 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 9

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Fallout From the Accident.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Over the next couple of weeks I managed, just barely, to keep up with two demanding, sexual predacious lovers. Both women seemed hell bent on not letting my cock go soft!

And in the course of those weeks I continued to grow. Professor B was the first to measure my progress. She was amazed and excited when she found out that I now stretched the tape beyond fifteen inches! Marge was excited and amazed when I proved to have grown to almost eight inches girth! Both of them continued to fuck me every chance they got. I don't think Marge ever caught on to the fact that she was sharing my massive cock and balls with Professor Builtup. And Professor B never complained that she wasn't the only woman riding my erection.

In fact, Professor B came to me one day with a request.

"Lance," she purred as she stroked my hard-on thru my pants, "I want you to meet with one of the donors that have been funding out research. Mrs. Ineidmor has an interest in our side project. I've told her of the benefits and she is fascinated. If the meeting goes well she's going to donate $100,000 to. um, the University!"

Three days later I was standing in front of Mrs. Ineidmor while Professor B pointed out some of the benefits of her machine.

"Notice the sculpted musculature, the low body fat and the over-all physique."

"Yeah, most impressive," Mrs. Ineidmor responded. Her eyes barely moved from the banana hammock Professor B had made me put on. It was the only thing I was wearing. Even though I was not erect my genitals stretched the fabric and was pulling the waist band away from my groin.

I think Professor Builtup had made the garment herself. I don't think there was another swimsuit large enough to contain me.

"Of course there are other benefits," continued Professor Builtup. "Not only for the subject, but for anyone who participates in activities with the subject. I, for instance, have been fortunate enough to have my bosom increase in the past several weeks from a 36 Double F to my current 36 Triple H!" She doffed her blouse and skirt to display her magnificent figure. She easily out-classed most of the women on campus. She looked like a top-heavy swimsuit model in her mid-twenties instead of her real age of 38.

She smiled at Mrs. Ineidmor's reaction. She pursed her plump lips, ran her tongue around her lips and then, with a sexy pout, touched her tongue to the tip of her nose. That was something that Marge had just been able to do recently.

"Of possible interest are the following: Control of your gag reflex, in addition to an increase in your bust line you will find that your body fat percentage will drop and you will discover increased sensitivity in you tits and vagina. I myself have become multi-orgasmic!

"Your partner, once he has had a couple of exposures to the rays will be able to ejaculate in massive amounts with almost no time needed to recover to full potency! Some people have reported a change in the taste and texture of the ejaculate!"

"Fascinating," breathed Mrs. Ineidmor. Her eyes were still focused on my cock and balls. "You claim that the subject's penis can increase in size? What sort of increase are you claiming?"

"This young man measured just under six inches when he was first exposed to the treatment. Would you like to confirm his current dimensions?"

"Indeed, yes, I would!" A predictable response.

"Alright, here." Professor B handed a cloth tape measure to Mrs. Ineidmor.

Turning to me she stroked my chest and abs. "Would you mind removing your swim suit so that Mrs. Ineidmor can confirm what I have claimed?"

I pushed the banana hammock down my legs and let it fall to my feet.

"Oh, my goodness!" gasped Mrs. Ineidmor. "What a cock! And look at the size of those balls!" Her hand was shaking as she reached out to touch my cock.

As expected I started to gain heft as she gently touched and fondled my cock. Mrs. Ineidmor was an attractive woman and as she stroked me and licked her lips she took a moment to look me in the eyes.

"You're a very lucky young man!" she told me.

"I know, ma'am."

"Don't call me Ma'am. Call me Rosita, please!"

"Okay, Rosita."

She had kept up her manipulation of my cock while we spoke but now she returned all of her attention to what she was doing.

"Holy,, I can't reach around it with one hand," she remarked. "And it's not yet fully hard but it's the biggest cock I've ever seen! Even in the porno movies my husband has!"

"Are you planning on having your husband receive the treatments? asked Professor Builtup.

"My husband? Hell no! I'm not going to waste my money on my husband. I'm going to have my boy-toy get the treatment! He's already a young stud. This will enable him to satisfy my needs even better than he has in the past!

"Are you fully erect, young man?" She asked.

"Almost Rosita, almost!"

"Let’s see then." she wrapped the tape around my cock. "Christ! Eight inches! Rod isn't even eight inches long! And speaking of long." She repositioned the tape.

"Oh, fuck me! Can this be right? Are you really more than fifteen inches long? What a big cock!"

"Go ahead, Mrs. I mean Rosita, have a taste," I encouraged. "Lick my cock! Feel what it's like when you put your lips on me!"

Tentatively at first and then more confidently she licked and lapped at my cock and balls.

"This is amazing," she said. "You are amazing! And I can expect Rod to have the same results?"

"It will take a few sessions, but yes I expect you will find that Rod will get bigger and bigger. And you will also benefit as he does!"

Turning back to me, Rosita used both hands to push and pull. "I want to see what you taste like, young man. I want to get a mouthful of your cum to see what it's like!"

"Keep doing what you're doing and you will get your wish," I assured her.

And moments later I started to spurt into her mouth. She handled the first two spurts but then, her mouth full, she had to let the overflow dribble over her lower lip and into her hands. She swallowed what she had and looked up at me in amazement!

"So good! I love the taste," she told me before she began to lick up what was in her hands.

"Doesn't he taste good?" asked Professor B. "I love the taste of his cum!"

"I don't think I could handle your cock, young man. You are too big! Too long and thick! But if I get Rod started maybe I can get used to him as he gets larger, longer and thicker! I can't wait!"

With that she reached into her purse and pulled out her checkbook.

"We agreed to $100,000, right?" She asked Professor Builtup.

"Yes, that's right!"

Maybe I wasn't supposed to see but the check was written to Professor Builtup, not Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. None of my business, I thought as Professor B waved goodbye to Mrs. Ineidmor. Her other hand was already stroking my hard-on.

The Diary: A Personal Diary of a young Co-ed at T I T S

Dear Diary,

I'm so lucky to have been accepted here at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S! I worked super hard in high school, taking all the A P courses I could and graduated with straight A.

Now I have to really focus on my studies so I can look forward to a high power job in STEM.

Classes start tomorrow and I'm super pumped. I've met my roommates, they seem nice but I'm not going to be partying! It's all about the studies!

Dear Diary,

I really have to be better at doing these entries. Already I've fallen behind and it’s still my first week! Well, things are going really well so far. My classes and teachers seem cool. And my roommates don't seem like they are going to be an issue. For the most part they stay in their rooms, which I'm fine with. I stay in my room most of the time, too!

Since I've gotten here I've heard a lot about the "Freshmen Fifteen.” Apparently new college students put on weight when they start school. But I arrived already carrying an extra fifteen pounds (alright, 25 pounds, but who's counting) so I should probably try to focus on not gaining any weight. But studying so much doesn't leave me much time to exercise. One of my roommates has a hi-tech scale. I should probably ask to use it.

PS. She said okay!

Dear Diary,

It's been just less than a month, and I'm starting to notice some things.

For one, a lot of the upperclassmen girls here are, well, built! There seems to be a preponderance of curvy figures. Lots of the upperclassmen girls have really large tits. Double-D Cup bras (and larger!) are common! Seems a little unlikely. (And a lot of the girls don't wear bras! Even if they clearly should!)

Studies have been going well, the classes and teachers are everything I had hoped for. And I've lost two pounds!

Dear Diary,

Something really strange happened today! A guy approached me while I was standing in the quad, minding my own business.

"Honey," he said, "you've got a GREAT ass!" The PIG!

I reached out to slap his stupid face and call him a sexist PIG! Instead I found that I was stroking his cheek and telling him, "Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing! Thanks for noticing!" What? That couldn't be me could it?

I fled in a panic. What had come over me? As I reached the corner I saw that he was still watching me. And I realized, remembering back, that I'd been swinging my hips like a street walker! What had happened? My face was flushed as I hurried back to my dorm.

Dear Diary,

It is official! I'm losing weight! I've fought the scale since I turned 12 and started to notice boys. And finally, after all this time, after all this effort, I'm beginning to win the fight! I'm so proud of myself!

I've lost almost fifteen pounds! The Freshman Fifteen seems to be the reverse for me!

I'm not sure how it's happening. I'm still eating the same. I still don't really exercise, but it is real! I get on the scale twice a week and every time I do, I weigh less than the last time! Maybe it's because I'm walking everywhere now?

And I've noticed that my weight is being redistributed. I've always been shaped like a pear. Big bottom, heavy thighs, small (but perky) titties. Well my hips and ass are getting smaller. Probably from the weight loss. And all the walking. My thighs are shrinking. I've lost the cellulite that I had begun to develop. My legs look so sleek and sexy now! I've even gone so far as to buy some shorter, tighter skirts to let me show off! When Dad gets the credit card bill he'll probably freak. But he does want his little girl to look her best, I know!

What really surprises me is that I've gone from a B to a C-Cup! Still perky, but larger! I thought I was done developing in that way. I guess not.

Dear Diary,

Another week. More developments. At least as far as my boobs are concerned! My new C-cup bras are getting tight! And I'm going to have to buy some new tops to make room for the girls. Dad's really not going to like the credit card bill. But what can a girl do? She has to look her best, right?

I'm starting to draw some attention from guys! Which I find that I'm enjoying! I've never been all that popular with the boys. In high school I didn't have a boyfriend. And I focused on my schoolwork anyway. But now when I see a boy looking at me I'm not sure how to react.

Dear Diary,

Today I flirted with a boy that I did not know!

Honestly, it was exciting! He looked at me as I was sitting in the library. He couldn't take his eyes off my boobs. Yes, I'm calling the girls boobs now. Not breasts, boobs. Ever since I grew into and then past D-cups the word boobs seem to be more appropriate.

I was wearing a sweater that just recently had become tight! I made it a point to stretch so he could get a good idea of just how big my boobs are. In a few days I'm going to have to buy a 34-F cup brassiere. Something I had never in my life imagined until just recently. Now I'm actually looking forward to it! The larger I become the more I like it. I like the attention, I like the looks from the boys. And the professors. Even some of the girls are looking at me now!

The boy was goggle-eyed as I pressed my arms together to flash my cleavage at him. And when I stood up to leave I made it a point to stretch so he could appreciate my big tits and my slender waist. Under my almost 34-F cup tits my 28 inch waist looks skinny!

I could feel his eyes on my body, as I sashayed to the exit. What fun!

Dear Diary,

I met a guy at the library. I meet a lot of guys at the library these days.

I was sitting alone on a couch when he came in and sat down on a matching sofa across from me. At first he didn't notice me. But when I put down the magazine I was reading he did a double take. I have to admit that my huge Double F titties make quite an impression. And since I wasn't wearing a bra under my low-cut mOhair sweater, he had a great look at my dirigibles and the constantly stiff nipples that announce their presence no matter what I wear!

I acted like I didn't notice he was looking at me. But I made a point to push my arm against my boob, Which caused my big tit to bulge cutely out of the neckline. I let up on the pressure and it settled back under the fabric and shimmied to a halt. Then I ran my hand up and down the exposed cleavage and pulled on the sweater, like I was too warm. Truth was, I was HOT! And he knew it!

After a few moments of similar activity, subtly showing off my tits, I gave him a small smile to let him know that I was doing it on purpose. And then I slowly dropped my gaze to where his cock was starting to show itself in his pants.

His hands moved to cover his erection. I looked back into his eyes and shook my head and then looked at his crotch again. He didn't move his hands at first. But when I licked my lips and looked at him again he took the hint and moved his hands so I could see his erection. It was a sizable one, too!

I took out the water bottle that I always carry with me and took a drink. In doing so I managed to spill a little onto my left tit. As it soaked in my erect nipple became more prominent. More exposed to his eyes.

I brushed at it as if to wipe off the water. The contact made my nipple grow. And then I pinched myself! Of course this caused my nipple to expand even more, much to his delight. And finally I cupped my tit in my hand. But my tit was so big that it completely overwhelmed my hand!

I watched as he caressed his erection thru his pants. It seemed that he was pretty well endowed! I nodded my head while watching him manipulate his cock.

I slowly stood up and approached him. I stood next to him for a long moment letting him drink in the sight of my buxom figure as I posed for his enjoyment. I sat down next to him, my thigh pressed against his.

Without saying a word I pressed my big boob against him while nodding at his groin. I motioned with my chin that he shoul

University of TITS: Part 8

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sat, 29 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 8

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

An Ag lab accident changes a young man's life.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

It was a normal day at the Agricultural Research Building at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S, an obscure but well-regarded research University. I am part of a team trying to develop faster growing grain. You know. wheat, corn, rice and so on. To help feed the starving planet. If we could get more crops a year it would go a long way to solving world hunger.

Professor Builtup is our lead, And, yes, we all made fun of her name behind her back. Because she really was 'built up' Stacked begins to describe her. But enough about her.

I'm one of the Junior team members. And by that I mean I'm a Junior at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. One more year and I'd have a chance to make a real living for one of the large ag companies that were funding our research.

So to get to the point: Professor B had spent years to come up with a method to irradiate the seed of various grains in hopes of accelerating their germination process and force them to sprout faster than normal. Or that's what she claimed. None of the tests that we had done had had any effect that we could find.

So she was getting pissy. Professor Builtup did not take failure well. She got snappy, and would glare at whoever was giving her the latest bad news. And it was my turn today.

I put it off as long as I could before I approached her at the lab bench where she was calibrating the latest version of her device.

"Professor, I'm afraid that the latest test results still show no real effect," I started in my most apologetic manner. I was hoping that she wouldn't blame the messenger!

"WHAT!" she yelled. Everyone in the lab looked up to see what was going on. And what was going on was my getting a first class dressing down from Professor B!

I waited until she started to run down.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. I wasn't even on the team! I'm just the guy they asked to tell you. Here's the report," I tried to hand her the 53 page summary of the tests and results.

"I don't give a fuck about the report," she snarled and slapped it out of my hand. It flew across the table, hit her cherished device and bounced onto the floor.

The device reacted in the worst possible way! It powered up with a whine, the ray emitter flashed on and it bathed me in its light! I was frozen in place while the multi-spectrum lights washed over me.

At first Professor B didn't notice what was happening as she continued to express her displeasure. She was pounding on the lab bench with both hands!

"Oh Fuck!" she screamed as she finally noticed what had happened. She rushed around the table and turned off the device.

"Are you all right?" she asked with genuine concern. She started to approach me.

"I'm, uh, I'm ,” I started to stutter. Then I fell over!

As I started to lose consciousness I was treated to the sight of Professor Builtup leaning over me. Her blouse gaping oven to display that impressive cleavage. She really did look like a capital B from my vantage point.

And that was what I saw when I first opened my eyes. I was still staring down Professor's blouse, into a cavernous cleavage. Everyone in the lab knew that Prof. B was stacked. I was getting a really good look at just how well stacked she was!

And I had a blinding headache and I ached all over!

"He's fine," she announced. I then saw that almost everyone in the lab was standing around me looking at me lying on the floor. "Get back to work. I'll take care of Mr. Risto."

She helped me to my feet during which I felt those impressive tits mashed against my side. She sat me on a stool and left her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "How do you feel?" She was peering intently into my eyes.

"I have a headache and I'm sore all over," I told her.

"You probably hit your head when you fell," she reassured me. "Why don't you take tomorrow off and see how you feel. No need to go the dispensary."

It was as I was on my way home that it occurred to me that she didn't want another incident on her record. People did seem to fall over in her lab on a regular basis!

But I went home, told my girlfriend I wasn't feeling well and went to bed.

I woke up fifteen hours later. I felt fine. In fact, I felt terrific! No headache and everything else was great. Well, okay, I was horny. But that wasn't unusual.

I went out to the kitchen to find Marjorie, my live-in girlfriend, making a big pot of chili.

"You've been asleep for so long, I thought you'd be hungry! So I made you something to eat!"

"Just another reason I love you," I told her melodramatically. "You take such good care of me!"

"Well, you owe me! I had to sleep on the couch you were snoring so loudly!"

"I'll make it up to you," I promised as I tucked into the bowl of chili she had put in front of me.

Later that night she collected on the I O U. As we were getting ready for bed she made a point of snuggling up to me and licking my ear. This was her usual prelude to sex. She knows that my ears are one of my erogenous zones. I think she felt sorry for me. We had had sex just a couple of nights before and this was a little sooner than she would have ordinarily made a sexual advance.

We've been together for a while and our sex has become somewhat routine. But not this time! We were both really into it! I was really energetic and she was really responsive. In fact, she had an orgasm really quickly. Usually it took some effort for us to get her to climax. Not this time!

After it was all over, she rolled over to snuggle and whispered in my ear: "That was amazing! You were So good!" before we both went to sleep.

I lazed around the house and went back to work the following day. Professor B made a point of tracking me down when I came in to see how I was doing. I told her everything was okay and she asked me to let her know if that were to change. Which was nice of her. She didn't have a reputation as a 'people person' and it was nice she was making the effort. I appreciated it!

"Well, let me know if anything changes," she told me before charging off to write another grant proposal.

Life went on. A couple of days later I snuggled up to Marjorie on the couch as she was watching some rerun on TV. I was feeling amorous and she was willing to let me have my way with her. I spent some time appreciating her perky B-cup titties and taking the time to get her juices flowing before I started to get to the main event.

As I said earlier, our love-making had become a bit pedestrian. And this time I made an effort to go above and beyond. And I was successful! During the course of almost an hours love making Marge achieved two orgasms! This was quite unusual. But she really enjoyed what I was doing and made that clear to me. She even went so far as to clean my cock with her mouth after I had ejaculated! She knew I liked that but she didn't do it very often. She made sounds of enjoyment as she worked. I took it as a good sign!

I got a good night's sleep I can tell you!

The next morning, a Saturday, I woke up to find Marge giving me a blow-job!

This had never happened before! Ever! Yet here she was, tucked between my legs and sucking on my cock! Rising and falling, using her first three fingers to stroke and hold my cock. She had a habit of holding her pinkie finger out as if she was drinking tea at some posh cafe. Anyway, I wake up and there she is. And it feels great! She's doing an outstanding job.

Now, normally, she could be a little tentative, as if she was uncertain about what she was doing. Not now! She's providing a great b j! First thing in the morning and without me asking! Usually she would have to get a little tipsy to suck my cock! But I wasn't going to interrupt her.

And when I came I guess it took her by surprise. Her eyes snapped wide open as the first jet of cum hit the back of her mouth. And the second one helped fill her mouth.

She made a muffled sound of pleasure and swallowed it down! Something that she had NEVER done before! She would spit my sperm into her hand or a facial tissue or whatever but this time she took it all! She kept the last mouthful and it looked like she rolled it around her mouth before swallowing it down while making yummy sounds! Totally out of character! I had no idea what was happening but I wasn't going to fight about it!

She cuddled up next to me, one hand still on my semi-rigid penis, and dropped off to sleep. And I did the same.

Later that morning she asked me a strange question.

"Honey, have you changed your diet?"

"Um, no. I don't think so. Why?"

"Well I gave you a blow-job this morning, remember?"

"I sure do!" I answered enthusiastically.

"Well, you tasted different. You tasted good. In fact, you tasted wonderful! And that never happened before. Whatever you're doing, keep on doing it!"

"I'll try," I responded. I'd no idea what might have changed. But I made a mental note to keep track of what I ate and drank, just in case.

I did start to keep track of my diet. And I noticed some things that were changing.

The biggest change was our sex life! For one thing, blow-jobs, which had been a once in a while event, became a standard part of our love making. Not always to cum in her mouth but often as a warm-up. And when she did suck me off, Marge always swallowed with obvious enjoyment.

Our sex life was getting better! We had never been what I would call prolific but now we were making love a couple of times a week. And it was not always me initiating the sex.

The other thing that changed over the next little bit kind of snuck up on me. It was Marjorie that noticed the change.

One night after an incredible blow-job she kept on stroking me.

"Lance, are you, um, I mean, look! Your cock, is it getting, um, bigger?"

"What? What do you mean? Bigger?"

"Yeah, I can just barely touch thumb and finger around your cock. You didn't use to be that thick. And I think you're a little longer, too. Let me measure,” She was gone in a flash but was back with a cloth measuring tape in a moment.

"Now, hold still while I get you back up!" she instructed me. She stroked and licked and played with my cock and balls until I was quivering with excitement. Now that she had mentioned it, I did think that I stood a little prouder than I had before. I knew, from measuring when I was a teen, that I was about five and a half inches long.

"Six and one quarter," Marge announced. looking up at me.

"Really? Six and a quarter? I guess I've put on some weight."

Actually, I'd lost weight over the past several weeks. Nothing major, about a pound every seven days. But still,

Later that day, after Marjorie had used her oral skills and reduced my erection to limp and useless, I noted the new information in my iPad.

Weight: 223

Height: 6 1/4

Girth: 6

The next week I was a little larger still. Marge measured me at 7 1/2 inches long and 6 1/4 girth. And now I weighed 221!

Whether it was because I had grown or if it was the improvement in the taste and texture of my cum Marge was continuing to give me more oral attention than she had in the past. She repeatedly told me that I tasted better and that she enjoyed the act of oral sex more than she had in the past. I was fine with it, I can tell you!

"I like the new you," she remarked one night after we had made love again. "You feel better, you are bigger, you fill me more than you used to. I like it!" She had once again achieved more than one orgasm as we had made love. She attributed it to my increase in heft.

At the end of the next week Marjorie complained about the fit of her brassieres. She went to Victoria's Secret and found out that she needed a C-cup bra now! She greeted the news with enthusiasm.

"I've always been a little jealous of the girls with bigger tits, Lance. Now, at last, I'm starting to catch up. I wouldn't mind if I gained a little more weight, you know, on top." She plumped her titties with both hands as she spoke.

Of course eventually it dawned on me that there may be some connection between my growth, Marjorie's changes and the "incident" at the lab.

Professor Builtup was still asking me if I was okay, were there any repercussions from the exposure to her pet machine. And I kept saying that there were not. Even though I was beginning to have my doubts.

Marge kept track of her developments. And I kept track of mine. At the end of the second month we seemed to have settled down. Marge had topped out at 36-D, an increase of two cup sizes from her prior 36-B. And I had plateaued at just over 8 inches long with a concomitant growth of my testicles.

Our sex life was better than either of us could recall. I sprouted an erection when Marge pranced thru the apartment in her underwear, showing off her larger dimensions. And she had continued to initiate sex which she had usually left to me.

She had bought some new clothes. What she called her "teasing" outfits. Tight tops, short skirts, push-up bras. She didn't wear them outside of the house but she would wear them at home and prance around showing off her new curves.

She would sit next to me while I was watching TV. Sometimes her hand would find its way into my lap, caressing my thighs and cock. When she had gotten me hard she would extract my cock from my pants and stroke my cock while cooing endearments.

Without hesitation she would lower her mouth onto my organ and using her tongue, lips and hands would tease me to eruption. Her lips had become a bit more puffy and, I thought, her tongue was longer, more limber! In any case, oral sex was now at the top of the list for Marge!

We also fucked a lot! But it was always preceded (and often followed) by blow jobs with lots of tongue action and her swallowing my copious offerings.

Yes, my now somewhat enlarged balls were able to produce a Lot of semen. And Marge took it all with enjoyment!

"I love the way your big cock fills my hungry little cunt, Lance! I didn't think size mattered but, tell you the truth, the fucking is better now than it was in the past. You push deeper, I can feel you hitting spots that were never hit before! And your bigger cock stretches my cunt lips farther apart. It feels great!"

But I was still wondering what had started all this.

I started to snoop around. I paid more attention to what was happening around me when I was at work.

I soon noticed that there was a three-drawer file cabinet behind Professor B's desk that she never used. It was in a prime location, was always locked and she never opened it. Given that we didn't really have a whole lot of extra room in the lab this struck me as unusual, too.

Long story short, when I jimmied open the file cabinet I found that Professor Builtup's pet project had, at one time, been a rogue project that she and her former fiancé had developed. There were detailed notes, photographs and other documentation. I copied almost everything and took it home to study

University of TITS: Part 7

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Fri, 28 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 7

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Four Freshmen Meet.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

They were thrown together by the housing lottery. There were four of them, two males, two females. The last suite in the dorm was for four. And it was co-ed. So there they were.

It wasn't what any of them would have chosen but it was what they had to live with.

The first couple of days were chaos, of course. But they finally sorted themselves out. It was funny, but in a way they were a perfect set, a stereotypical group of college freshmen.

Fred, the jock, considered himself the leader of whatever group he was in. Vain, conscious of his good looks, he thought of himself as a lady's man. He made an effort to hook up with every decent looking girl he met. Any that were able to resist his charms were lesbians. That's what he said.

Daphne, the pretty one, considered herself the alpha female in any group. She was sender and very attractive. Her perfect 36-24-35, B-Cup figure was always clad in the height of fashion. And her eyes always tended to look down her nose at those around her. Her parents were rich and had spoiled her rotten. If it was not for the school's rule that all Freshmen experienced dorm life, she would have had her daddy rent her a penthouse off campus.

Shaky, the other male was a reputed pot-head. Although no one had ever seen him smoke or even detected a hint of weed around him. Truth was, he was too shy to speak to girls, and too busy in class to pay too much attention to what was going on around him. He never even glanced at Daphne after meeting her that first day. And he was seriously crushing, in his shy way, on the fourth member of the group.

Melva, was the smart one. Dark-haired, always muffled in blousy, oversized sweaters and skirts. Her knee socks matched her sweaters, always. She wore oversized glasses which were always sliding down her pert nose. The lenses were so thick that no one could make out the color of her eyes. A bookworm's bookworm, Melva had taken all the AP classes her High School had offered. Her classes now were several steps up from the usual first year classes.

On the second day of co-habitation Fred made a move on Daphne and ran into a brick wall! Daphne made it clear, in her snobbish way, that Freddie had no chance with her. Her disdain was evident to all. After he put the moves on her, Daphne took pains to avoid him. She would leave the room when he came in.

"Must be a lesbo," muttered Fred.

The fact that Fred always wore cut off shirts or tight t-shirts and even tighter pants that showed of his buff body and male package was not lost on Melva but she had no idea what to do about it. If she was interested in a boy it was for the first time and she had no idea how to proceed. But she couldn't stop looking at him!

And she never noticed that Shaky was checking her out.

And Freddie had no interest in Melva. Not his type, at all. Those frumpy sweaters? Coke bottle glasses? No, not his type!

And so things stayed for the next several weeks. But things were evolving under the surface.

One day Melva and Daphne happened to be in the common area at the same time. Ordinarily Daphne would be watching some reality show on TV while Melva would be deep in some esoteric book. But at this point Melva managed to strike up a conversation on a subject that was of interest to Daphne. Fashion.

"Daphne, um, could you, I mean will you, help me with something?

I've lost some weight. I need to buy some new clothes but I have no expertise. Could you lend me a hand?"

"Well, I suppose, sure. I had some important things to do today but I can move my schedule around." In truth she had nothing to do but didn't see why she couldn't take some credit for helping her roommate.

"Let’s get your measurements and talk about what kind of look you are going for. Why don't you come into my suite and we can get started."

Once in Daphne's room she grabbed a measuring tape and gestured for Melva to disrobe.

"We need to get an idea of your proportions so we can choose the right fit and style. Let me get your measurements, Melva."

Looking a little embarrassed Melva dropped her skirt to the floor and struggled to pull her baggy sweater over her head.

"What? What the,” Daphne was stunned, no, she was alarmed, by what she now saw. From armpits to below her waist Melva was enwrapped by some sort of elastic looking bands. Her bosom was completely covered by the multiple windings. Despite the bands her bosom swelled alarmingly. The bands were under considerable pressure, it seemed.

"What is all this, Melva?" She asked finally after getting her voice back.

"Um, well," Melva was clearly embarrassed. "I have a condition called juvenile macromastia. My bosom started to develop at a very young age. When I was nine years old I had to start wearing a C cup bra! I've had to get my bras custom made ever since. I was slender and completely, overwhelmingly busty. And my tits have kept on growing, larger and larger! It's been an embarrassment for me and I've tried to hide my figure ever since. I don't want people making fun of me, you know. Let me get out of this rig so you can take the measurements. I wonder if I've grown since the last time I was fitted."

Moments later the wrappings lay on the floor at her feet and Daphne could finally take a look at Melva.

"Um, ah, golly!" said Daphne as she saw Melva in only her panties. "I had no idea! You have an amazing body!" If she were to be truthful Daphne was jealous. Standing nervously under her inspection, Melva was revealed to have an amazingly voluptuous figure. Her ass was perky and firm, her waist toned and slender. She seemed to have show-girl legs. But the most obvious and surprising thing was the size of her epic tits! How she had hid them was a wonder! Melva was using both arms and hands to cuddle her bosom to her torso. Her vast tits over-matched her arms and hands, flesh peeking out beneath the arms, pooching into the open at her armpits and forced up and together into a cleavage that bulged up in front of her.

"My goodness! Well let’s get the measurements." Melva was blushing furiously while Daphne measured her hips.

"Thirty five inches," she announced. "Now lift yourself up so I can measure your waist. Um, okay, twenty-three inches." Daphne forced herself to stand up and walk behind Melva. She wanted to stay where she was and examine Melva's body. But she had a job to do!

Standing behind her roommate she could see bulges of tit flesh on either side of her torso. They were wider than her shoulder, wider than her hips! Again a feeling of jealousy rolled thru her. Daphne had always wanted larger tits. She envied anyone that rocked a C cup or better. And Melva was way, way, Way beyond a C cup!

"Ah, all, alright, now, I need to measure under your bust to determine the body-band measurement. So just hold your titties up so I can wrap the tape around you." Her hands were shaking a little as she stepped closer to Melva. Melva, in turn was still blushing as she used her hands and forearms to raise her tits up and out of the way of what Daphne was doing. Her boobs were covering the bottom half of her face! Her eyes peeked over the massive swells of those epic boobs. The feel of Daphne's fingers as she worked sent small shivers thru her. And why, she wondered, were her nipples erecting, getting harder and longer?

"Golly," Daphne said, "you are such a slender little thing! You measure twenty-seven inches. I guess that would mean your body band would be, like, thirty-two inches. Now we have to measure your bust at its fullest part. Just let go of your titties, honey, so I can measure,” Her voice died away as Melva pulled her hands and arms away letting her tits drop to quiver and shake in front of her.

"Golly gee whiz!" gasped Daphne as she watched Melva jiggle to a standstill. Her tits spread out, much wider than her shoulders and amazingly firm! They were giant, round firm spheres! It seemed that they stood out from her chest by at least a foot or more! Under Daphne's gaze Melva's nipples hardened and spiked outward. Almost an inch long, Melva's teats were larger and stiffer than any that Daphne had ever seen!

So suckable, thought Daphne, as she started to wrap the tape around her roommate's chest.

"Um, gulp, ah, that is,” she peered at the tape again.

"Forty-nine? You measure forty-nine inches? Amazing! Just amazing! How did you keep all this tit flesh hidden all this time?"

Almost unaware of what she was doing, Daphne cupped Melva's melons. Standing behind her, rubbing herself against Melva's back she gently cuddled and caressed the tits that completely overwhelmed her hands.

"Jinkies," exclaimed Melva, "that feels so good!" She let her head loll back against Daphne who was now softly pinching her nipples with each thumb and forefinger.

"So BIG! So gosh-golly big!" Daphne gulped. She was kneading Melva's hooters energetically and lightly kissing and licking her neck, causing Melva to sigh happily and lean back against her even harder. Daphne liked men. Some men. The ones that treated her like a lady and showered her with gifts. And now she was discovering that she also liked massively, overwhelmingly busty girls! Girls with tits so much larger than she had ever imagined! Maybe Fred was right. Maybe she was a lesbo?

"Feels so good!" exclaimed Melva. "No one has ever done this to me before! I like it. Pinch my nipples harder, Daphne, squeeze my big titties, too! Press them together. Do it harder."

"Oh, honey, here. Let me,” Daphne turned Melva to face her and dropped her lips onto the stiff nipples that crowned the most massive mammaries she had ever imagined! She moved from one to the other, licking, sucking, nibbling while squeezing with both hands!

Melva twined her hands in Daphne's hair and held her to her tits, encouraging her to suck and lick as much as she wanted to.

"Jinkies! That feels wonderful! I had no idea," she admitted to Daphne who was still focused on attending to the huge hooters in front of her. Melva's hard nipples scrapped back and forth on her face as she switched from one to another. She was enjoying what she was doing as much as Melva was enjoying her actions.

"Here, lie down, Honey. Let me treat you,” She pushed her face between Melva's soft thighs.

"Oh, no! Don't! That’s so nasty! Oh,” her voice died as she felt Daphne's mouth fasten on her cunt. She had no experience but she felt that she would never feel anything better than what Daphne was now making her feel! So Good, she was gasping and panting while the feeling roared thru her. What Daphne was doing with her mouth. lips and tongue was shaking her to her core. It felt so good!

It took only a few minutes until Daphne brought her to the brink of an orgasm. Thighs twitching and body arching in ecstasy Melva erupted while Daphne tried to hold on and provide the finishing touches to the best orgasm Melva had ever had.

"JInkies, that was incredible! I've never felt anything like that before. Golly!" Melva was panting and gasping while cuddling with Daphne.

"Well, we can do it again if you like. But right now we should go shopping and get you some more fashionable outfits. Now that we know what your sizes are. Although I don't know where we can get a 32-Q bra!" Daphne giggled at the prospect.

"Well, I used to get all my foundation garments at Burns & Adrian's in Philadelphia. But now that I'm here at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S; I'll have to find another source."

The roommates spent hours at the mall shopping for a new wardrobe for Melva. Among the things that they bought was some new cosmetics which Daphne promised to teach Melva how to apply.

They unpacked all of the loot when they got back to the dorm. As they laid it all out Daphne asked the question that had been in the back of her mind since the start of the shopping trip.

"Melva, why are you doing this? What made you decide to get new clothes and learn to put on make-up?"

"Um," she was blushing furiously now. "Daphne, can you keep a secret? It's because I want to have a boy notice me. I want to be attractive, even hot! And with you being so pretty I thought that you could help me."

"I'll be happy to," Daphne responded to the flattery. "Whose attention are you trying to attract? Someone in your class? One of the Assistant Professors?"

"Um, Fred," the flustered girl answered.

"Fred? Our Fred? Oh, honey, I don't think he is your type! He's a shallow jock with an ego problem. It's too big! Really? Fred?"

"I know. You're right, but he's so dreamy! He's so good looking and he wears those tight coochie pants! And he never even looks at me."

"Oh, Melva, if you want to attract Fred's attention all you have to do is go braless. Or wear something tight or revealing. Get rid of the oversized sweaters and those wrappings," she gestured at the pile of fabric at Melva's feet. "Just take a deep breath and let him see just how busty you are!"

"Really? Do guys like big tits? I mean as big as I am? Until I got here I had never met anyone as busty as I am. I've been super embarrassed by my largesse."

Daphne ignored the word she didn't understand and her own jealousy of Melva's huge boobs.

"Oh, darling, yes! Most men like big boobs! And you sure have them! I've never met anyone with boobs this size!" She reached out and plumped Melva's melons which made Melva giggle.

"So I didn't have to spend all this money? All I had to do was parade myself in front of Fred in a tight sweater and let him know that I have a big set of tits?"

"Yeah, that's right! But these clothes will let you show off with class and with the make-up I’ll show you how to use you'll be a real knock out! Now let's get to it! Let me show you how to use mascara and blush."

The next day Melva put her plan into operation. She appeared at breakfast wearing a sweater and skirt combination. She had not put on her usual knee socks. And unlike her usual outfits this one fit her closely. Her tits were prominently displayed and her skirt only fell half way to her knees. The final touch was that she was wearing stiletto heels that made her legs and rump look fabulous!

Melva tried to act as if nothing was different but she was watching Fred's reaction as she pranced across the kitchen area to get some cereal.

She was gratified to see his eyes bug out and he choked on the mouthful of food he was chewing.

'He noticed!' she thought to herself proudly.

Indeed, Fred was out and out staring at her as she moved around. He was frozen in place. His spoon halfway to his mouth while he gaped at Melva.

Daphne and she had worked together to figure out the best way for her to present herself for Fred's approval.

She made sure to tread heavily, causing her boobs to shiver and shake under her skin tight sweater. Carefully she placed one foot in front of the other, causing her backside to swivel and sway provocatively. While preparing her bowl of cereal she took care to push her tush out, swiveling back and forth, showing off her rump to her enraptured prey.

When she sat at the table across from him she deliberately bounced her tits on the table top before pulling back and letting them settle into place.

"Good morning, Fred," she purred.

"Guh, um, ah, Melva? Is that you? I mean, good morning!" Fred was having a hard time taking all of this in. Melva had never looked like this before! What was going on? How had he never seen what a smoking hot fox she was?

Trying to recover Fred busied himself finishing his cereal and hustled out the door to class.

"Don't worry, honey, he'll be back to normal by the time you are both back from class! You just took him by surprise," reassured Daphne who had been watching from the doorway.

"Jinkies, I hope you're right," said Melva, "I'm so horny it hurts!"

This last was said just as Shaky walked into the kitchen. Blushing wildly he spun on his heel and bolted back to his room.

"I think you embarrassed him," giggled Daphne as he left.

"He's such a strange little man," responded Melva.

When Fred returned from class he found that Melva was there before him. She had changed into a different sweater. The color still matched her skirt but it was lower cut than the one that she had worn that morning. Melva had skipped a class to be sure she was home before anyone else. She used the extra time to practice in front of her mirror. She now knew just how far over she could bend to show off her cleavage without letting her tits fall out into the open. She knew just how far down she could pull the V-neck to tease someone sitting across from her. She had practiced posing, admiring how she looked as she arched her back to emphasis the massive mounds that she carried on her chest.

'I never realized how sexy I can look,' she mused to herself. 'I'm so big, so fabulously, amazingly big! I know that Fred will be attracted to me! I hope,' she ended on a more tentative note.

Of course Fred took immediate notice of Melva's amazing cleavage that was on display.

"So, you look amazing today," he told her while looking her up and down.

"Thanks Fred," Melva responded. "Do you like my new look?"

"I'll say, Can't you tell," he asked.

In fact Melva had been pretty sure that he did like her new look. He had a noticeable stiffie in his pants. She had seen it at once. She giggled prettily and gently stroked a finger over the bulge.

"Geeze, Melva, you not shy, are you?" he wondered aloud.

"Not when I see something I like," she responded while stepping closer to Fred. She allowed her over-sized balloons to brush against him while smiling up into his eyes.

"Ah, gulp, well," Fred was a little taken aback at how forward Melva was acting. He had always thought of her as a shy bookworm. Not his type at all. This new, forward, aggressive woman with the staggering figure was

University of TITS: Part 6

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Thu, 27 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 6

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Another of Tina's Success Stories.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Let’s call this episode ‘Horse’

My life changed after I had an unusual occurrence. (That's my trademark understatement!)

Anyway, I was having some drinks after work with some colleagues. We were all Associate Professors at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. We had been talking about the unusual events that had been happening on campus. Most of the rumors were just that: rumors. No one in our group had had any of the rumored experiences.

There were reports of power outages in the Library. Flickering lights, ghost sightings and such.

People were talking about Assistant Librarians suddenly becoming bimbos with huge hooters and taking on all the men in the study cubicles. But like I said, none of us had been part of any orgies!

What we did all agree on was that the girl watching was getting better and better! Part of it probably was the fact that it was spring. And winter had been brutal! But still! Skirts were getting shorter, tops and jeans were becoming tighter and tighter. More braless boobs than ever before were bouncing and shaking all over campus. Nipples were popping out aggressively from under skin-tight blouses.

And we were all enjoying it. One of the guys said that he had heard that one of the dusty old professors had somehow raised an 'elemental' that was somehow causing all this. We laughed him down and ordered another round!

I went to the men’s room since I have a small bladder. And on the way back to the table I was waylaid by the sexiest woman I had ever seen! Gorgeous, stacked beyond my imagination and best of all, hot for me!

I have to admit I didn't argue. If a hot, foxy, sex goddess offers to take you home and fuck your brains out, how many objections would you raise? So when Tina said she wanted to rock my world I was just drunk enough to go along with it!

Anyway, I had a night such as I would never have thought possible! We fucked for hours! She knew more ways to do the nasty than I had ever thought of! And she was able to keep me going long past my usual limits! She kept calling me 'Stud' and praising my stamina, ability and my equipment. I'd never been called a 'horse' before. But,

While she was fucking my brains out, my body was changing! I was developing muscles where I had not had them before. The muscles that I had were becoming ripped and well defined!

I was starting to look lithe and athletic which I had never been! And most of all I was getting larger and larger in the cock department!

"Oh, what a pretty cock," Tina said when she first pulled it out of my pants. It stood proudly. all of almost six inches long.

"I just love a big cock!" Tina exclaimed an hour later while she was kneeling in front of me and taking eight inch strokes from my visibly thicker hard on.

We were into the third hour of our love making and Tina was riding my eleven inch monster cock while making little sounds of happiness and cumming time and again! Talk about multi-orgasmic? Tina could cum and cum and cum! There seemed to be no limits to how many times she could have an orgasm! And she always wanted more and more! Plus there seemed to be no limits to how much of my cock she could take!

By the end of the evening she was using both hands, giving my gigantic, almost fifteen inch long cock a hand job while she was cooing and smiling at me. "Biggest one ever," she said time after time. "Never had a cock so big! What a thrill! So Fucking BIG! I can't believe how thick and long you are! Biggest I've ever seen!"

By this time I was only partly conscious. Her sex drive was unconquerable! I'd cum more times than I could count. Tina was a cum covered mess. From her hair to her knees she was covered by streaks and pools of my cum! And she loved it. But I was worn out! It seemed like a dream!

When I woke up the next morning in my own bed I found that it had not been a dream! My formerly pudgy body had become ripped and muscular! To top it all off (so to speak) I had a piece of man-meat hanging between my legs that would have put most equines to shame!

I found out in the shower that my appendage would spring to life any time I thought of a sexy woman. And that I could cum often and easily! After jacking off three times in the shower I took the time to measure my newly arrived package.

I wasn't sure if I was doing it correctly but I got a length of just under fifteen inches long and darn near eight inches around! I was a STUD! I was, as Tina had called me, a horse cocked stud!

It was as I started to get dressed that the negatives of my sudden metamorphic changes began to make themselves known. For one thing, none of my clothes fit properly anymore! My pants were loose. My belt was too long. My shirts strained to fit over my suddenly muscular torso.

Even in its flaccid state my massive cock made a noticeable bulge in my pants! Luckily it was the weekend so I was able to get some new clothes that fit better before I had to show up at work again. I noticed that many of the girls I encountered were more flirtatious than would have been the case earlier. Could they tell that I had undergone some changes?

I didn't try to pursue any of the possibilities. I was still too shy to just approach someone I didn't know and ask if they wanted to fuck.

Monday morning is always the faculty staff meeting from eight to ten. Our Department Supervisor is a hard edged woman, Ms. Simington-Smythe Ms. Simington-Smythe always has a look of derision on her face. She acts like she is better than everyone else.

She is a bulky woman. She always wears a skirt that falls to mid-calf, a white blouse under a loose fitting blazer. She is obviously trying to play down her feminine side and doing a pretty good job of it!

The rumor is that she's engaged to some big, rich muckety-muck in the corporate world but no one at school has ever seen them together. She is young for her position but projects a cold, stern visage and is a stickler for detail and a general pain in the ass!

Anyway, she's a nasty piece of work. No one wants to get on her bad side! And she doesn't seem to have a good side, either. She is always reporting people to HR or to the administration when she feels that they are inadequate in some way.

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!

Today was no exception. As usual I sat just to her left at the conference table. She sneered at several other people while berating them but ignored me. For once. But today I couldn't get comfortable. My cock was half hard and I couldn't find a position that didn't irritate my newly enlarged member. I tried pushing it into different positions but nothing felt right.

At the end of the meeting Ms. Simington-Smythe finally turned her attention to me and demanded that I stay behind.

As the door closed behind the last of the others she turned to me with a furious look.

"What did you think you were doing, young man?!" She was maybe three years older than I was but the 'young man' crap was one of her ways of emphasizing her position of authority.

"Ma'am?" I responded.

"Playing with your.. um.. member! In a business meeting? How disgusting! Do you have anything to say before I report you to Human Resources?" She was reaching for the phone as she glared at me.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. It gets uncomfortable in these pants. I didn't mean any disrespect!" I cupped my hand over my half hard cock in my pants.

"That's, that's, Um," she was stumbling badly as she took in how long and thick I was. Even under my pants it was obvious that I had a huge cock!

"That's not possible," she continued as she put the phone back into its cradle. "No man can be that large! It's just not possible." Her tongue was wetting her lips as she kept on staring.

"Well it is true," I told her. "I'm sorry but I have a really big cock now and I find it's hard to get comfortable some times. There isn't anything I can do about it!"

"Nothing you can do, ?" she was still looking at the bulge my hard on was making. "No! I don't believe it. It just cannot be.." She began to reach out with one hand. She stopped as I started to unzip my pants. I figured I was in plenty of trouble. I could at least prove that I wasn't a liar! And underneath that bitchy facade Ms. Simington-Smythe wasn't a bad looking woman. Some makeup and maybe some clothes?

Without any fuss I pulled my cock out of my underwear and let it protrude into the open. There was about eight inches of semi-hard cock exposed.

"That's impossible," Ms. Simington-Smythe repeated but without any force to it. She just didn't want to believe what she was seeing.

Without seeming to realize what she was doing, she reached out tentatively and brushed the back of her fingers against my manhood. It quivered and grew stiffer. Staring raptly at my groin she turned her hand and took a light hold of my cock.

"It's not even hard," she murmured. She squeezed it tentatively. "Not even hard and yet,” she pulled and pushed my cock to the left and right, examining it from all angles. "It's so long and ,” Her voice faded away again while she kept looking at what she was holding.

Slowly, she ran her hand up and down my cock. Just once. Under her touch I could feel the stiffness growing. Then she did it again! Then once more. I grew larger and longer as she kept stroking me.

"This is not possible," she told me while looking me in the eyes. "No man can be this huge!"

"But I am," I assured her. "And I'm going to get bigger and harder if you keep on playing with my cock!"

"I'm not.." she hesitated. While she paused I pressed myself forward so that the tip of my cock touched her lips. Without thinking about it she ran her tongue out and swiped it across my cock. "Umm, ah, Oh God!" she moaned.

Her grip tightened and she sped up her movements. Ms. Simington-Smythe was giving me a hand-job in the Department Conference Room. What if someone came in?

That didn't seem to occur to her. She was staring at the rapidly growing cock that she was now pumping with both hands! She didn't slow down, not even when she heard me start to gasp and moan in excitement.

She just kept pumping and pumping, watching her hands as they flew up and down my cock!

"I'm going to cum," I announced, "You're going to make me cum!"

She didn't even slow down. I wasn't sure if she had heard me. Her entire focus was on the cock that she was rubbing and stroking!

She stared as my cock head pulsed, flared larger and then spat out a long rope of cum. It struck her face and smeared across her glasses. She was huffing and puffing as she kept working. She didn't even flinch as I launched shot after shot of sperm that landed all over her.

I saw her tongue swipe across her lips, licking up cum that had splashed onto her. Still all of her attention was on watching me blow a huge load! She never even glanced at my face! She just milked me for all the juice she could get!

When it was clear that she had extracted all the cum that I had to offer her hands slowed and she let my now softening cock droop in front of her. She still didn't look at me. She seemed to be in some sort of mental fog.

She was looking at her hands as if she didn't believe that they were hers.

"Put that away and get out." she said. still without looking at me she. "This never happened!"

I tucked my still stiff cock back into my pants and went to the door.

As I left she was still sitting in her chair, unmoving. I wondered if she was having some sort of a seizure. But not enough for me to go back and try to talk to her!

The next day Ms. Simington-Smythe had me summoned to her office. She never called directly, she always had one of her underlings call or email or sometimes they would visit us on campus. I always figured they saw it as an excuse to get away from her.

I had spent the previous night having carnal relations with a young co-ed. She had enjoyed riding my cock until she had collapsed in ecstasy! After sucking a third load from me she had given me an enthusiastic tit-fuck with her proud 34-Double D tits. It had been fun and I was looking forward to getting home for a good night’s sleep before I was summoned.

So I showed up at her office at the time she had specified. Not early, not late. Right on time.

Of course she made me wait. Bitch.

After a while I was ushered into her office.

"You may leave, Esmerelda," she instructed the secretary. As it was now well past five o'clock and the rest of the office was empty her instruction seemed unneeded. I caught the secretary rolling her eyes as she fled the office.

Turning to me Ms. Simington-Smythe glared at me. She was on the verge of sneering as she launched into a speech about decorum, propriety and proper office behavior. The gist of it was that whatever had happened between us the previous day had been my fault and she was not going to put up with it any longer and blah, blah, blah.

As she was ranting I got more and more pissed. This woman had grabbed my cock and had given me a first class hand job! She had taken the initiative and given me what was one of the best hand jobs I have ever had. (Is there such a thing as a bad hand job?) Anyway, she had forced me to empty my balls! And somehow, in her mind, she had managed to make it my fault! She was going to report me! And blah, blah, blah!

So I stood up, walked around her desk and stood next to her. I stood very close to her. She pushed her chair as far away from me as she could but I just stepped up to her again.

She stopped talking, thank God, and just shrank back in her chair.

Her eyes flitted from my face to my groin and back. She could easily see the bulge forming as my cock grew.

"No," she was trying to be stern but it wasn't working.

"Your problem, Ms. Simington-Smythe," I told her, "is that you have no idea how to treat a man. You are bitchy and cold because that is the only way you know how to behave. I think it's because you are afraid of your own feelings, your own needs and cravings. You could be a hot, foxy, sex machine if you only had the courage. Let me show you!" I pulled her hand to my crotch and placed it over my rapidly expanding cock.

"No! That's not,” she gasped. "Don't you dare." Her voice died away. And she didn't take her hand off my hard-on.

"Take it out, bitch!" There was real iron in my voice.

"No, you can't make me!"

"Do It! Do it Now! We both know that you want to see my huge cock!"

She didn't look me in the eyes, but slowly she began to unfasten my belt.

"I can't believe I'm letting you make me do this," she complained. She didn't stop working however. In a moment she had pulled my pants down to my knees. She was staring at the bulge that my cock was making in my underwear. And she was running her hand up and down that bulging length!

"I'm not making you do anything," I pointed out. as she began to extract my hard-on from my underwear. "You're the one that is running both hands up and down my gigantic prong. And you love it, don't you, you bitch!"

"No," Her tongue came out to wet her lips. "I don't like holding your massive, rock hard penis in my hands! It's disgusting!" Her words were contradicted by the way she kept on stroking me and licking her lips. She never looked me in the face. All of her attention was on the big cock she was fondling thru my underwear.

"Go ahead," I encouraged her. "Remember h

University of TITS: Part 5

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Wed, 26 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 5

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

My Mistake Causes Antoinette’s metamorphosis.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Some background might be of interest: I was involved in a lab accident at the obscure but well respected university where I work, Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. It sounds like a plot from a bad sci-fi story but now my pheromones have some unusual effects on some people. The scientists finally let me go. But they asked me to make a note of any unusual occurrences. Hence this report.

"You bastard!" she shouted at me as she pushed her way into my apartment. "What have you done to Me?"

"Won't you come in, Antoinette?" I responded as politely as I could while fending off the angry young woman.

"Call me Toni and you're damn right I'll come in. You have a lot to answer for and I'm not leaving until you explain all this!"

"Wha,” I started before she cut me off.

"Before I met you I was a perfectly respectable junior accountant at the university. And Now,” she paused to gather herself.

"Now, I'm this, this, this, I don't know what to call it! Before I dated you everything was on track, but now? Now all I can think of is that night! Before I met you I was a normal young lady. But since then? Ever since you fucked me with that enormous pole you call a cock it's all I've been able to think of! Lying under you, getting pounded into the mattress by the biggest, hardest cock in the world! Remembering how you managed to fit that gigantic thing into me! How you kept going and going, on and on! Making me, no Forcing me to cum time after time, harder than ever before! Each time cumming harder than the time before! Making me insane!"

"Here, sit down, Toni, tell me what's wrong." I motioned to the sofa.

As she sat down her short skirt rode up to show off her fabulous legs and the welts at the top of her dark hose.

"You look good, Toni" I commented.

"Look good? Look Good!" she glared at me.

"I look fabulous! I look smoking hot! I used to have to struggle to hide my complexion's flaws. But they are all gone! I have skin like porcelain now! My eyelashes are twice as long as they used to be. I don't really need make up any more. But I like to put on lipstick!"

"All the girls in the office are asking me how I did it! And I don't know what to tell them. Should I tell them to bed the good-looking guy who picked me up in that bar and have a night of amazing sex with a stud packing a cock as long as my forearm? I don't think they would believe me! I'm not sure I believe it. But somehow I know that it's true!"

"But,” I started again.

"And this! How do you explain This!" She tore off her blazer to show off a tit-packed blouse; buttons strained to contain a pair of pneumatic tits.

"Before I met you I was a perky B-cup. Now I'm an F-cup and just as perky! Tits this big shouldn't be this bouncy and flawless! They should be sagging and drooping instead of poking straight ahead and begging for attention! And they get lots of attention!" She was running her hands over the massive mounds that she carried in front of her. Her nipples were starting to show thru her blouse and whatever bra she was wearing.

"Just look at all of this!" she exclaimed. "From B to F in less than a month? It's amazing!" Her hands were still roaming over her mountains while her fingers pinched and plucked at her now prominent nipples. "They feel So Good!" she moaned while gazing into my eyes. Her tongue flashed out to wet her lips. She was panting now.

"I can't escape the attention of the guys in the office." she went on. "Men in the street stare and whistle! Worst of all, I Like It! I like to have men ogle me, to stare at me as I wiggle by in my high heels and tight mini-skirts. I like the way they gape at me as I bounce under the tight sweaters I've started to wear along with the hip-hugging miniskirts that show off my ass to anyone that wants to take a look. I can't stop myself, I dress to show off, to flaunt my smoking hot bod!"

"So,” I tried again.

"And that doesn't begin to explain my attitude and how I've changed!" she didn't even slow down to acknowledge me. "Three days ago the VP told me I was looking good as he passed me in the hall. So I dragged him into the supply closet and drained his balls three times in a row! First I had him fuck me from behind, then I took him between my tits and had him cum all over me and then, after I had licked up all that I could get, I sucked his cock until he fed me the last of his cum! I've been getting flowers and anonymous thank you notes ever since!"

"He wasn't even half your size," she mused, still fondling herself. "And I have to admit these feel good! Even if they are only F cups." She moaned as she pinched her nipples. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and leisurely swept across her upper and lower lips.

"I can't get over how good it feels to have someone's hands on my big tits! I don't have any idea how you did it but I love the feelings I get now!"

"What have you done to me? Before I met you I didn't think size mattered at all. Now all I can think about is your immense cock! How it felt, throbbing and pulsing while I tried to wrap my hands around it. How hot and hard it was as I pushed my hands up and down! What it looked like as I got it to spurt out more cum than anyone I have ever been with! And how you did it time after time after time!

"I need you to do that again for me! I need to see you empty your balls over my tits!

"I need to feel you push this gigantic prong deep into my poor empty cunt. I need to feel my cunt spasm as you drive yourself all the way! You go so Much deeper than anyone else ever has! And I need to feel that again!

"Uh," I started to answer her but before I could continue her hands were busy undoing my belt and pulling my zipper down. "Just let me at this big boy! It turns out I like big cocks, you know! And I've never seen one as big as this one!"

She was fondling my semi-hard shaft with both hands as she licked her lips in anticipation.

"Oh, yes! It's just as big as I remember! It's been haunting my dreams! And it's all I can think of at work! So pull it out, big guy and feed me as much of this more than foot long prick as I can take. And don't stop until you've emptied those massive balls!

"I want all I can get, stud! So don't try to hold back!"

By this time she was kneeling in front of me. Totally naked, her big tits were shaking and bouncing in front of her as she played with my cock. She ran her mouth up and down, sucking up all the pre-cum that was leaking out. Then she started to lip and tease my ball sack with her tongue and lips! It felt terrific. I didn't try to hold back, just like she had told me. Instead I started to spurt long ropes of cum. The first ones soared over her head, then, as she pulled me into her mouth I shot off several more volleys. The last few she directed across her tits and proceeded to massage into her skin.

"Yes, I like how that feels, I like the way it soaks into me and how it feels as I let it dry on my titties!"

"Now for the main event! I want to feel you cram yourself into me! Fuck me, stud! Fuck me as hard as you can with this gigantic cock!"

"But, Antoinette, aren't you afraid you'll have another reaction like the first time? Do you want to have your tits expand? Or whatever else may happen?"

"I told you, call me Toni! And if my tits get bigger? Well that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world! After all these are only F-cups. And I know men love big tits and I love men that love my big titties! If I get bigger they will just love them even more! Now come on! Stop stalling and fuck hell out of me!"

So I did! We spent the next few hours exploring what Toni called her "new eroticism.” She fucked me in every position that you can imagine. She dropped her tits on my face, pulled my hands to her nipples and gave me tit fucks while I rode her waist and then later, while she sucked on my balls! There was nothing that she wasn't willing to do! We both enjoyed doing all of them.

As we kissed goodnight she snuggled up to me, pressing her chest against me. "If I get bigger, I'll come back and show you," she promised.

The next time she rang the bell there was no blazer. Instead she was barely packed into a skin-tight crop-top that left her slender waist uncovered and exposed the top one third of the largest tits I had ever seen along with enough side boob to confirm that she wasn't wearing a bra! Without a bra to restrain them her tits exploded outward and rested wider than her shoulders. Amazingly, they hardly seemed to sag at all!

After entering my apartment she stood proudly in front of me with her hands on her waist. She was arching her back, pushing her inconceivable development toward me.

"Fifty-eight inches," she announced proudly. "When we first met I was barely a 32 B cup. Now I over-fill my 34 S cup bra. I have a 26 inch waist and 36 inch hips. But no one notices anything except my gigantic tits and stiff nipples that poke thru all my clothes!" It was true! I could see her nipples and swollen areola thru her top!

"And I'm so much different! I was a junior accountant. Now I'm Assistant Vice President for Development! But it's My development that I'm VP of! The Executive Vice President that I did in the closet back then has put me up in a swank penthouse. And he and gave me a company credit card. All I have to do is take care of him! Which is dead easy! I let him wash my back. And whatever. Any time he comes around. Then I fuck him to exhaustion before I send him home to his family.

"I can't help it! I've become a slut! My lips are all puffy now! I look like I have had collagen injections. My hair has become wavy it's turned blonde and reaches my waist! I've pretty much lost my gag reflex. And look at this!"

She extended her tongue to lick her lips. Then she pushed it out farther and farther. She could easily touch the tip of her nose with it!

She stepped closer to me. I could feel her tits as they brushed against me. Her nipples scrapped across my waist. She took in a sharp breath in pleasure as she wiggled against me. She reached up and pulled me into a steamy hot kiss.

"But I still crave this big, fat cock," she admitted. "I've never found one as big or as potent as this huge cock!" she was stroking me as she spoke. "I want to feel this monster force its way down my throat and into my hungry cunt!"

And she spent the rest of the day proving just how much she craved my massive cock. I pretty much just let her do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted was to deep-throat my cock. To pull out all the sperm that she could! To ride my monster fuck stick until she came! Time after time she would erupt in squeals of ecstasy while bouncing up and down on my rampant cock.

And after each eruption she would pay homage to me until she had brought me back to full strength. Then she would kneel in front of me and direct me to pound her until she collapsed in front of me. We would both rest for a while until she would curl up at my waist and suckle at my prick until I was hard again. Then she would decide whether to suck or fuck me. Whichever she choose was fine with me!

She would shiver those massive tits in my face, pull my hands to her nipples and encourage me to play with her tits!

One of our favorite things to do was to have her lean over me, smother me with those monster boobs while she pulled my cock all the way down her throat. Then she would slither her amazing tongue out to tickle my balls until I erupted down her gullet! It never took long!

When she left, hours later, I was drained dry! And I'm sure that she would have kept up if she thought that I had anything left to give her.

She gave me a tender kiss goodbye kiss at the door.

"I can't wait to see what more changes might come my way! This was a great session. I'm looking forward to the next one, honey!" And she was gone.

I haven't seen her since. I wonder if I'll see her again. And if I do, will she have changed even more? How?

The Accountant - Good Things Happen to a Nobody.

Being a Junior Accountant at an obscure but well regarded college like Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S has been the dream of a lifetime. And the best job I've ever had!

Not! It's horrible! Mind-numbing, wretched, boring and pays poorly. Ugh. But here I am. I'd quit and go somewhere else but I don't have the experience, don't have the resume and it's tough out there just at the moment. And I'm uncertain of myself in the best of circumstances.

At the end of another day I stopped at my favorite bench outside the Library and indulged in some girl watching. Over the past months that is the one thing in my life that has improved! I sat and watched as the co-eds ambled, sashayed and strutted by. There was more cleavage on display than ever before. And if not cleavage, then tight sweaters clinging to bouncing, bobbing, jiggling jugs! And I love big tits!

As I'm sitting there I see Melanie "Melons" Myjeski coming down the walkway. Melons, Melanie that is, is one of the administrative assistants in my section. She's earned her nickname in the last few months. Prior to that she was so flat chested as to be unnoticeable. Not anymore. Some women might react poorly if their tits suddenly doubled in size and then doubled again! Not "Melons"! She bore her new endowments proudly, showing them off wherever she went. Tight, low cut, whatever she wore was designed to showcase her now massive boobs. Her waist length platinum blonde hair tumbled past her waist and shone in the sunshine.

She ignored me as she went by. I don't think she even knew my name.

And as I'm sitting there, watching "Melons" parade down the sidewalk, I start to have a heart attack!

The light dims, the sounds fade away. I can't feel myself. And I can't move!

"Don't panic, you're fine," says the E M T. 'He got to me fast!' I think.

"Naw, I'm not an E M T. You're fine. No heart attack. No one will notice us here on the bench." There is no one else on the bench! What is going on?

"My name is," the voice made a noise that could not be formed by a human mouth. "But you can call me The Boob God. I'm the one that has caused all the improvements that you were just admiring! One of the Professor's here managed to resurrect me recently and I've been doing what I can to improve the lives of the ones who believe as I do. At one time I was a powerful force of nature. Now I'm constrained to this, much reduced, iteration. But I can still have an effect! And I'm going to bless you, Aloysius Robert Rodman!"

Okay, now that was scary. No one knew my full, legal name. My license reads "Al R. Rodman.” No one, ever, calls me Aloysius! Everyone knows me as Bob. I was forced to consider that maybe this was real? Nah, not likely.

"I can tell you are not believing. I'll have to prove myself. The next girl that walks by is going to show you her tits!"

And here comes a well stacked co-ed. Just as she draws even with me she drops her notebook. As she bends over to pick it up her tits fall out of her low cut sweater! Unhurriedly, while facing me, she tucks herself away and strolls off.

"Have fun, kid," says the voice as the world around me come back into sharp focus. Somehow I know that whatever had just happened had ended. I pulled myself together, went home and had a good night's sleep.

Then the next day,

"Hey! Stop staring at my girl!" I felt my chair get pulled out from under me. I managed to catch myself from falling and turned to face Mac McIntyre. Mac was the office bully, a mid-level manager who felt it was his job to make all around him as miserable as possible.

I had been gazing dreamily at the cleavage Melons, uh, Melanie, was displaying in her low-cut sweater before he had interrupted.

As if in slow motion I watched Mac pull his arm back to

University of TITS: Part 4

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Tue, 25 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 4

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Chestina, the frumpy professor becomes something else!

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Author's Note:

It may be hard to believe but I do research from time to time to try to add some reality to my stories. And one day I was looking for "Unfortunate" names. You know, like JOhnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue.” Well, imagine my reaction when I discovered that way back when, Chestina was a real name! Busty Dusty, Chesty Morgan and others took on their stage names. Back in the day, some folks named their little girl Chestina! So I had to write a story about Chestina.

My name is Chestina Smith.

Every one calls me Tina. Tina Smith. And I'm fine with that. The fewer people that know my legal name the better as far as I'm concerned. My parents loved me, I'm sure, but in trying to pay homage to some ancient fore bearer they didn't do ME any favors, I'll tell you. And I think they knew it. They were the ones that started calling me Tina when I was too young to remember. They never called me Chestina that I can remember.

They explained to me that one of Mom's early relatives was one of the first people to homestead out west somewhere. At least I didn't get her full name! That would have been too much to bear!

Anyway, Chestina Lovebody, had been a pioneer and my Mom was very proud of that! But since Mom was born Sally Anne Smith, and she married Stanley Smith, she really didn't have any comparison. And everyone called me Tina, thank God!

Anyway, to move this story along I'll skip over the awkward childhood, the nerdy high school geek-dom and the buried-in-the-books college years that have led up to when this tale begins.

So, I'm Tina Smith, PhD. Not Doctor Smith. You don't call a PhD, Doctor. That's only for medical doctors. And Tina Smith, PhD has an abiding interest in ancient cultures.

I was lucky to get a position at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. Despite the name they are one of the foremost places of learning about ancient cultures, old religions and lost civilizations.

As a member of the faculty I've been active in trying to get the name changed. Or at least modified. How about Tennessee Institute of Science and Technology? T.I.S.T,? Any acronym would be better than T.I.T.S. So incredibly sexist! Like it comes from some stupid wank story on the Internet. But apparently the original bequest that set up the school insisted. Probably thought it was funny! Sexist pigs!

Anyway, things have been unusual around here for the past six months or so. Weird stuff. The Library has been having a series of black outs. The lights will flicker from time to time. Maintenance says that there is nothing wrong. Nothing they can find, any way.

Another thing is that the co-eds all seem to have changed? Morphed? They look different. They dress differently. Act different. Talk different. Gone are the usual bib-overalls. The bulky sweaters, the comfortable boots and such. All gone.

Now they wear heels. Stiletto heels. Mini skirts are all the rage. The mini-er the better. And if they wear jeans they are skin tight or short or both! With crop tops. Or sweaters and blouses unbuttoned down to here. Or further. The other day I reprimanded a student in one of my classes because you could see her areola and her nipples would pop out when she bent over. Which she was doing. A lot! She wasn't wearing a bra either. No one wears bras any more! Seeming to be past the Double D size, her boobs, I mean breasts, were huge. And firm! They jutted straight out from her chest like a pair of nose cones on missiles! It was unsettling. I don't think she took me seriously. Later, after class I saw her pull some random jock into the Maintenance Closet!

When I got there the door was locked. But I could hear what they were doing! And what they were doing was not something that should happen on campus. Not even here at T.I.T.S.!

But it was happening. All of the girls on campus were dressing like bimbos. They were showing off their legs, their toned abdomens. And their breasts! Did I mention that the average breast size seems to have blossomed?

When I first came here there was the usual range of boobs. Now it seems to have skewed toward the larger sizes. In the last several weeks it's become unusual to see a set of breasts smaller than a D-cup!

And I've noticed some odd administrative behavior too. Some unknown got promoted to an endowed chair! From out of nowhere! That never happens! And the staff in that office seems, well, strange, in so many ways.

So, to sum up, I'm a mid-thirties Professor of Ancient Cultures. I poke around in dusty old buildings around the world and publish the interesting discoveries when I make one. And recently the most interesting discoveries are taking place right here on campus!

So today I got to the office and there was a crate waiting for me. The label said it was from The Brubaker Ancient and Comparative Religions Office. That was the newly created endowment. And what did they have to do with me?

Well, the crate held an ancient Artifact which apparently they had been unable to identify or learn anything about. They wanted me to apply my expertise and let them know.

So, okay. I grab a couple of maintenance guys and we dismantle the crate. It contains a really, really old oddity. It was a few inches taller than my 5' 8", it looked like a mirror. But from an age before they had developed glass because it was polished metal. Oval in shape and made of some sort of golden colored metal. The accompanying papers said that the material was a complete mystery. No one had been able to figure out what it was made of. Not gold, not brass. What ever it was, it was very highly reflective and resistant to corrosion. As old as it was the mirror was in pristine condition. Not so for the frame and support. They were in very bad condition. Nothing could be made out of the symbols on the frame that surrounded the mirror. Mostly they were so worn as to be unreadable. Those that could be made out were from some unknown language.

So, another mystery to be examined.

By the time I had uncrated it and red thru the material that came with it I was at the end of the work day. So I grabbed the cloth that had been draped over the mirror and went to replace it.

I took a moment to look in the mirror before I did so. And I guess I was more tired than I thought because I felt something wash over me. I staggered for a moment and then recovered. I covered the mirror and went home.

After a great night's sleep I was up early. As I did my ablutions I noticed that I really felt great! Even my reflection seemed perky and upbeat. My comb passed thru my hair with out encountering the usual tangles. I was off to the start of a great day!

Back in the office I did my email, answered some phone calls and then got started on my most recently acquired mystery.

Taking off the drape once more I began a close examination of the mirror. I couldn't make out the runes or symbols. They were too corroded and worn. The mirror, as I have mentioned, was pristine. Not a mark on it. No mars, no smears, no scratches. No indication that it had not been made yesterday. Let alone hundreds or thousands of years ago.

I couldn't find a seam in the framework. Looking at the back of the object revealed nothing. The back was the back. Just unpolished. And without ornamentation at all.

I stepped back to take in the whole of the item.

As I did so I felt that feeling wash over me once more. It only lasted a moment and then I was fine. I didn't give it a thought. At the end of the day I had gotten no further despite my best efforts.

Two nights in a row I had a great sleep. Showering the next morning I found that an incipient pimple had faded over night. In fact I thought my complexion looked pretty good for a change. Since childhood I had been what my Mom referred to as "splotchy.” She had always said I would grow out of it. Maybe that was starting to happen in my mid thirties. I could only hope.

The next day I got another, smaller package from The Brubaker Ancient and Comparative Religions Office. It contained some printed material that had been found in the same area as the Object.

After a few hours of work I thought I had found some symbols on the mirror's frame that might match some of the printed materials.

Several times during the course of the day I had stood examining the Object from a distance. Stepping back to look at "the big picture.” Each time a swift wave of something had washed over me. But each time it was gone as quick as it came. I made a note to see my Doctor in case I was coming down with some thing. Despite these episodes I felt I was starting to make some progress on the Object. Nothing major, just a feeling of slow, persistent progress.

The next week passed without incident. And while my complexion had cleared up and my energy level was higher than normal I put that down to the fact that I was getting a solid eight hours of sleep ever night. I felt great! And happy. And every once in a while, horny!

And then the next weird thing happened.

I went to my hairdresser for my normal two month appointment. Not weird? Wait.

So I'm sitting in the chair. Waiting to get my roots touched up. Is mid-thirties too early to worry about grey roots? Anyway Midge had just started when she says, "So what's going on here, Tina?"

"Huh?"

"When did you start to dye your roots yourself? And why red?"

Huh? What are you talking about? I haven't been coloring my hair."

"Well your roots are coming in red for some reason. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, I guess. Just give me a trim and we will see what happens, okay?"

And that is what we did. For some reason I didn't freak out. Normally something like this would have caused me to have a conniption. See a doctor, whatever. But this time I just went with the flow. I wasn't in any pain, I was just having the color of my hair changed. And growing. In two weeks my hair grew about six inches!

At the same time that my hair was growing it was becoming curly! That was new. And the new color was really attractive.

I was rapidly becoming a redhead! A particularly spectacular color of redhead! It took less time than it should have. I had grown out to the point that I had Midge cut my hair drastically and now I was a redhead! A horny redhead. I was masturbating every night. I had masturbated in the past, of course but now it was more often. And it felt really, really good! A few minutes diddling myself and I was cumming like a howitzer! BAM!

At the same time that the hair on my head was going from mousey brown to fabulous auburn locks the hair on the rest of my body was vanishing. My legs were free of hair, so were my armpits. From the neck down the only hair on my body was a small vee patch just above my cootchie!

Some other things were also changing. My weight was dropping. I noticed that my clothes weren't fitting right anymore. My skirts and pants were becoming loose. My sweaters and blouses, tighter.

I had always been pear shaped. Big, fat ass counterbalanced by almost nothing up top. Floppy B-cuppers, 42 inch hips with a fatty 38 inch waist. No one was going to look at me with lust in their eyes, I knew that. Dammit! I was coming to realize that I so wanted men to look at me with lust in their eyes! In fact I sometimes dreamed of having men, luscious, muscular men, wooing me! I hadn't had those kinds of dreams in a long time! But now I was! Almost nightly.

And anyway, my clothes did not fit. So I dragged myself off to Marshall's to get some new clothes. Ones that might fit me a little better. I hadn't done any exercises or anything. But I'd lost inches off my hips and waist.

By this time I'd sort of put two and two together. Something about the mirror was having an effect on me. I was looking better every week. My complexion was no longer splotchy. It was porcelain clear. No acne, no pimples. I looked like I didn't have pores! And sort of golden. Like I was lightly tanned without my having been in the sun at all. But not brown. Golden!

Losing weight and going from pear shaped to hourglass shaped. Without doing any workout. Weird, but I'm not complaining. Just going with the flow.

And the flow keeps on coming. My breasts have firmed up. They sit high and proud on my chest. No longer saggy, no longer drooping. My breasts have become real life BOOBS! Not nearly as big as most of the other girls on campus, but they are well shaped and beautiful! And a nice handful I find out as I stand in front of the mirror at Marshall's and cup my hands under my tits.

Below my perky handful of boobs I have a svelte waist that leads now to a pair of hips that seem to somehow promise wonderful things as I pace around the dressing room. Turning to look at myself, now dressed in lingerie, I can see that I have what I have heard is called a "bubble ass"! I don't know where it has come from but I now possess a killer body! Sexy, slinky and magnificent in all regards! It has to be the Object, the mirror. There is no other explanation. Every time I stood in front of it and felt that feeling wash over me, something was changing. Something was happening to my body.

And I liked it! Looking at myself in the dressing room mirror I loved what I was now seeing.

And I needed clothes to match the new me. Working with one of the salespeople I returned all the stuff I had originally picked out. In its place I found other options.

When I had tried on some things that I would have worn before I found problems with them. They didn't fit at all well. It was uncomfortable, wearing them. The sweaters and blouses were too loose, too frumpy and not nearly appropriate for the 'new' me.

I tried on tight and low cut. They felt good! They made me look even better! And I liked the new look!

My old choices for pants and skirts made my legs itch. Only if I wore mini-skirts and short-shorts cut high was I comfortable. Or leggings. Even though they covered my legs completely, they didn't itch at all! My amazing legs wanted to be shown off, I thought to myself. And so did my breasts! That itching sensation was always there if I didn't flash cleavage or highlight their size by wearing tight, SKIN tight, clothes!

Paradoxically, I found that some loose tops felt good. The ones that gaped open to reveal my breasts when I leaned over. The kind that would allow a peek at my constantly erect nipples! The ones that I could pull the neckline down to display my wonderful cleavage!

So, tight and sexy or loose and sexy were my new options for clothing.

I went back to the office the next day in my new togs. I drew admiring glances everywhere I went! Girls were jealous. Guys were turned on! And so was I! The more looks I got the hotter I got! It was as if my libido had been turned up to "Over Heat"!

But I wanted to see if the changes were restricted to me. Could this mirror be the source of the strange "sexification" of the co-eds that I had been noticing?

So I called in one of the Graduate Assistants, Marcie. She had not yet been affected as far as I could tell. She was a plain Jane for sure. Just a little overweight, not attractive, drab hair, no makeup and no sexuality that I had ever observed.

"Jane, I want you to stand in front of the mirror, here.' I instructed her.

I let her stand there for a couple of minutes. She started to look at me quizzically, She didn't seem affected at all. I finally just sent her back to her work while I tried to figure out what was going on.

That night I went to one of the local night spots. I had never been there before but it was fun! I got asked to dance several times which was nice. It was a little disconcerting to feel my dance partners rubbing themselves up against me. It was even more strange to feel myself responding! I was rubbing my breasts against them. Letting my groin move against them. feeling excited as I felt their cocks getting hard as I teased him with my body.

I even gave one of my dance partners a secret hand job! Right there on the dance floor! What was I thinking? What if someone had seen me?

What I was thinking was that it was such a turn on to tease a man so

University of TITS: Part 3

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Mon, 24 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 3

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Movie night with Chelsea and Veronica.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

That night we watched a movie we had rented. Chelsea tossed a blanket over our legs to lessen the night chill. As we watched the movie I held hands with Chelsea while Veronica kept up her attention to my groin. Veronica snaked her hand into my lap. It was nerve racking. No matter what I did Veronica's hand would slip back into my lap and tease my hard on! If Chelsea glanced down she would be able to see what was going on!

At one point I excused my self and went to the bath room. I had to wait a couple of minutes until my cock softened enough that I was able to take a piss. When I walked out Ronnie was waiting for me in the hallway. She slipped in front of me, put her hands in my front pockets and pulled me to her. She dragged her tits across my chest and pushed her pelvis against my thigh.

"Um, I like the feel of my boobs rubbing against you," she told me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "When I'm not wearing a bra, like now, it feels so good against my nipples!" She slipped her arm into mine and walked me back to our seats.

"Look who I found," she announced as she pushed me down to sit between the sisters.

"Um, yeah," responded Chelsea who was focused on the movie. Ronnie's hand stayed in my lap almost all night.

That night I had a hard on as I got into bed but Chelsea wasn't interested. As I lay there I have to admit I thought of seeing if Veronica was still up. But I rolled over and went to sleep.

Over the next couple of days Veronica continued to tease me. Flashing her boobs every chance she got. Showing off her cleavage with low cut blouses. Wearing tighter sweaters that showcased her tits! And groping me every chance she got. If we passed in the hall she would push her tits out and make sure to rub them against me as we passed. Some times she would stand behind Chelsea and pull her blouse up over her bra so I could see her big tits. Most of her bras were low cut and showed off her cleavage.

Other time she would just cup her tits in her hands and show how big her tits were. And they were BIG! She wobbled them back and forth, grinning at me while showing off her figure.

I made sure to not be home alone with Veronica. It didn't really help. She constantly flirted with me. Always standing in ways that showed off her figure. Arching her back, letting her big tits jut out. Swinging her torso from side to side so her titties shivered and shook in front of her! Cupping her hands under those huge tits, plumping them for me, showing me how large and firm they were.

She would stand where Chelsea couldn't see her and pull her top up over her tits to show how they were overwhelming her bra. Or she would not have a bra on and she would stand there, topless, letting me stare at her boobies! I thought they seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.

It wasn't my imagination. One afternoon in the kitchen Veronica pushed herself up against me. Grabbing my ass in both hands she made a production of massaging her titties against me. "I had to buy another bra this morning," she announced. "I wear a Double-F cup bra now. I love my bigger boobs."

"I can't believe it," she continued. "When I started working at the college I was a shy, introverted, over weight, out of shape frumpy old woman. I had no interest in sex. Now I'm fit, toned, and big breasted . And my boobs are getting bigger, too! I love the attention they draw and the attention they get from my lovers!

"And that's the other thing!" she went on, "I was disinterested in sex before. Now I spend a lot of my time prowling the library looking for guys to fuck! I seem to have a sixth sense. I can look at a guy and tell what he likes. And somehow I know exactly how to do all sorts of things. I'd never had sex until I started at the Library. But all the guys say I'm really, Rally, good at it! I can make a guy cum in only a few minutes if I give him a hand job. And I enjoy making them cum. They have no control. It's all me! But it's not jus hand jobs! It's sucking and fucking! I love to get guys all hard for me, teasing them with my titties and then swallowing their cocks.

I love giving blow jobs! And I'm really, really good at it! For one thing, I don't have a gag reflex so I can swallow a cock all the way down. I like doing it and I know that the guys love it too! It makes them cum so hard and so fast when I swallow them whole and then look into their eyes while they dump their cum into my mouth and throat! God, I love that! I love the feel of their cum. How it slides down my throat. How it feels in my mouth. How it tastes! And I love the look on their faces when they cum. When they realize that I have complete control of them. I can make them cum so fast! Or I can make them wait until I'm ready to drink them down!" She was stroking my hard on while she was talking. Getting me harder and harder.

"Have you ever had a deep throat blow job?" she asked before licking her lips salaciously. "I love having a cock down my throat while some lucky guy pumps his cum into me!"

"I'll show you," she declared as she sank to her knees. In seconds she had my pants down to my knees and my steel-like shaft buried in her throat. As promised, she was gazing up into my eyes. I could tell she was smiling as her lips twitched around my shaft and her tongue rubbed the thick tube on the bottom of my shaft. Her mouth opened even further. She pushed her tongue out to lick the front of my ball sack. God! It felt amazing! In seconds I grabbed her head and held her in place while I emptied my balls into her eager mouth. She never missed a drop! What a cock sucker!

Just as she was licking her lips of any leftover cum I heard a key in the door. Quick as a flash Ronnie was on her feet and she stood between the door and me while I pulled my pants up and tried to appear innocent.

Chelsea came in and announced that there were groceries in the car and would I mind bringing them in.

As Chelsea turned into the living room Veronica turned to me.

"I want this to be mine!" she announced as she grabbed my crotch. My cock was, despite having just been emptied and the close call, still mostly hard. Smirking at me, Ronnie blew me a kiss and licked her lips. "I'm going to do all I can to make you mine. You are wasted on Chelsea. She doesn't know how to treat a man like you! She can't HANDLE a man like you. Not like I can! And I'll prove it!" She was gently fondling my cock as she spoke. She took a moment to pull her shoulders back and show off her amazingly well developed figure. "Just look at me! Double-F! I'm more of a woman than Chelsea could ever be. And I don't think it's over yet, either! You're going to be mine, all mine, darling!"

I admit I loved the blow job, but Veronica was freaking me out. Her attitude was completely different. Prowling the library looking for fuck partners? Enjoying giving blow jobs? Way different for her. And her looks were changing. Not just the boob growth, which continued. Her lips seemed fuller and more, I don't know, pillowy? Anyway, she was no longer a frumpy Librarian. She had become a sultry looking vixen. Her hair, now that she was letting it out, was getting longer and seemed to be changing color, getting reddish highlights.

Chelsea was noticing the change too. And not really approving. In one conversation with me she actually said the Ronnie was looking slutty! Which was a little harsh I thought. Was she getting jealous of Veronica?

One night Veronica pranced into the living room where I was reading a magazine. The TV was droning in the corner but I wasn't paying any attention. Particularly when Ronnie showed up in a skin tight blouse and mini skirt that really showed off her figure. She had been continuing to expand, her tits seemed to be the size of volleyballs now. There was no way to disguise her voluptuous figure. And she didn't try. Instead she reveled in showing off how curvy she was becoming. Every day she found another way to flaunt her body. Her legs, her hips and, always, every day, she would show off her big tits. Tits that were getting bigger and bigger!

Ronnie sat down across from me on the sofa. At first she didn't say anything. She waited until I looked up and then she gave me a little smile. "Hello, Darren. How are you?"

"Fine" I replied, as always a little wary of what might be coming.

"I bought this blouse a few weeks ago. I really like the color," she announced. She looked down at the blouse. It was a light blue color and buttoned up to a v-neckline. A hint of her cleavage could be seen. "But I'm afraid I may have to replace it soon. It's a little too small now."

Slowly she raised her eyes to mine. She locked gazes with me.She smirked broadly as she sat up straighter. Still looking me in the eyes she slowly pulled her shoulders back. Stress lines leapt into being across the front of the blouse. Gaps appeared between the buttons as she flexed to stress the blouse even more. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm going to have to replace it," she repeated. Smiling she looked down at her chest. She slowly inhaled and expanded her bosom. First one and then another and then another button gave up and were launched across the room. One landed in my lap!Right on top of my newly sprung hard on!

The blouse was open to the waist. Exposed was a lovely, much over-burdened bra. Breathe-taking creamy cleavage was on display as Veronica slowly stood up and stalked toward me. Her hips swiveled and those enormous cans flexed up and down with each step.

Stopping a step in front of me, hands on hips, she bent over at the waist, bringing her gigantic chest right in front of my staring eyes. No way was I able to look away. She was the biggest breasted tease I'd ever imagined!

"I will have to replace this blouse, Darren. And I'm afraid my 34 Double H bra is too small for me now, too!" Slowly she shimmied her torso allowing those huge titties to bounce and quiver. "See how I'm over filling these cups?" She ran her finger along the bra line pointing out how her massive breasts were spilling out over the top of the cups. "And my big titties are trying to escape here, too," She drew my attention to where there were small folds of flesh being squeezed out from under the bra's underwire.

"It's only a couple of weeks old and already it's just too small to be comfortable. I'll have to order a few new, larger bras since I've outgrown this 34-HH bra." There was more pride than sorrow in her voice.

"What do you think, Darren? Am I getting too big?" Smiling down at me she used one hand to draw me into the cavernous gap between her breasts. With the other she mashed her titanic breast against the side of my face. I'm sure that if anyone had been watching it would have seemed as if my entire head had vanished! So big! So DAMN BIG!

It was too much for me. She was too much for me. Her enormous chest was just too much for me to try to resist any more. I brought my hands up and crushed her breasts against me. I licked and sucked as much of her flesh as I could manage to reach. Shaking my head side to side I motor boated her bloated bosoms while she giggled and laughed.

She enjoyed all the attention that I was lavishing upon her. I was now running my tongue along the over flow of her boobs above the bra. Ronnie reached into the giant left bra cup and, with some effort, extracted her purely enormous breast. Like a ravenous beast I latched onto her nipple and chewed, sucked and licked that nubbin until it was rock hard and as big as a large thimble.

Veronica continued to gasp and moan in pleasure as she drew out the matching breast for my attention. Her hands were clasping me to her chest while her fingers were twined in my hair. She didn't have to hold me in place. I had no intention of going any where!

While I remained fixated on attending to Veronica's breasts and nipples she reached out and began to caress my hard-on thru my pants. She lowered my zipper and managed to get my throbbing cock out into the open where she could stroke it. Using long, languid movements she drew my cock to it's full length. She was licking her lips in excitement as she felt it grow longer and stiffer in her grip.

"Oh, I've waited long enough. Let me at it!" she cried as she pushed me back onto the sofa. In a flash she was undoing my buckle and pulling my pants down past my knees. As I kicked them off she yanked off my underpants and grasped my cock with both hands.

"Oh, My, God!" she exclaimed. "It's bigger than I remember, so hard and long! I just love it!" She swooped down and started licking and sucking on my now fully stiff cock. Her tongue flashed out to run up and down the shaft. Then she circled my cock head with her tongue before she took the head into her mouth,

With loud slurping sounds she began to suckle on the head while still stroking with both hands! Her tongue was lashing my cock head, encouraging the flow of pre-cum. She sucked it all up as fast as she could. After a few moment she began to push her mouth down my shaft. First the head and then an inch or two was brought into the liquid warmth of her mouth. Then several more inches, until my cock was hitting the back of her mouth. With out any noticeable difficulty she pushed her self forward allowing my cock to force it's way down her throat. It was an exquisite feeling!

Up and down she went, slow and then fast she went. Finally she pulled herself away and sat up. Looking me in the eyes while licking her lips of any fluid that she hadn't caught she made sure to show me how much she enjoyed cleaning up after herself.

"I think you will love this," she cooed. Smiling at me she made a production of pulling her titties free of the bra and blouse. She tucked them under her boobs. Grasping a nipple in each hand she trapped my cock between her tits.

"I love giving tit-fucks," she informed me. "I'd never even thought of it until recently. And the bigger my tits have gotten the better I have gotten at doing it! Tell me you don't love this," she dared.

Slowly she began to work. She rose and fell. Forcing her tits up and down my hard shaft. Keeping the rhythm she began to make little circles with her hands which resulted in pulsing pressure against my rock hard cock. It felt amazing!

Pausing from time to time she would extend her tongue to lick up the precum that was oozing from my cock head. Then she would return to her task, forcing her huge breasts up and down my cock. Then she would press down hard on her pillows which exposed several inches of hard cock. Her head would swan down and she would pull every inch she could reach into her mouth. Her face disappeared from sight as she took me deeper and deeper.

Gasping for breath she rose again to continue the magnificent tit fuck she was administering. "Like that, Stud? Am I giving you a great tit fuck, or what?"

"The best, Ronnie, the best! So skillful! So good," I groaned.

Still smiling at me she made a production of squirming out of her blouse and bra. I watched, enthralled, as her huge hooters moved and bounced in reaction to her movements. She then stood up and stripped out of her skirt. She didn't have panties on so I could see at once that she was dripping excitement down her thighs.

"Now, honey," she purred. "Now, at last. I want to see what this is going to feel like." She lay down on the couch, spread her legs and motioned for me to climb on.

Without a word I slid between her thighs. My hands were drawn at once to those giant pillows that were shifting from side to side on her chest. My hands were too small to coral the massive mounds of breast flesh. But it was a lot of fun to try!

She grabbed my cock and pulled the head to her cunt lips. Licking her lips she grinned up at me.

"Now! Push it in now! I need to feel what this huge cock feel like as it slides into me!" Her hips were moving from side to side, mashing my cock head against her cunt.

I leaned into her, making my cockhead push into her.

"OH!, Oh, Oh, Oh, that is So big," she moaned in response. "So big, you're cock is stretching my cunt lips! It feels so fucking good! More, you big cocked fucker, slide more into me!"

Following her orders I pushed more and more of myself into her hot, wet, pulsing cunt! It was an amazing feeling. Her hips were moving, side to side and back and forth. We were fucking in tandem. as if we had practiced for months! God, I was having an amazing fuck! The best fuck I could remember. With my girlfriends's giant breasted sister!

Soon enough I was pushing all the way into her cunt! Unlike Chelsea she wasn't objecting to getting deep-cocked. She loved it! She was banging her heels on my ass. Pulling on me with both hands as she groaned and moaned, pleading for more and more. Harder and harder, as hard as I was banging her she was asking for more and more.

University of TITS: Part 2

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sun, 23 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 2

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Mrs. Anderson, That Mountain of a Woman.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.

After the Brubakers had left The Presence had visited again.

"You did a great job, Sport! Really proved my point! Thanks, but the bad news is you can't keep that oversized sex stick! Besides, no human woman could handle it!"

But don't worry, I've got a great bonus lined up for you!"

I had argued with It and we finally agreed that I would be able to keep some of the enlargement.

So I was now hauling a foot long erection in my pants! And thick as my wrist as well! The women went wild for it, as you might imagine. And thanks to the intervention of The Presence, even the women that I had been with earlier seemed to remember this new appendage as being my normal cock.

I was just getting used to having such a massive prick when I wandered in to the office several weeks later.

"I understand that you are interviewing for the new position to be your assistant." Mrs Anderson looked at me over her reading glasses. "I would like a chance to interview. I've been with the Institute for years and I think I deserve the opportunity to at least interview." That last was said half defensively and half pleadingly. I had just been appointed the "Brubaker Professor of Comparative Blah blah blah.” Or something like that.

Mr. Brubaker had been so pleased with the way his trophy wife had become more tractable after the fucking I'd given her that he had decided to endow the chair as long as I was appointed to the position. Which the Dean had been happy to do. Even congratulated me on my "Excellent Interaction with our Alumni!"

The endowment came with funding for an office, staff, expenses and the promise of several supervisory visits each year from Mrs. Brubaker!

And now I was starting the process of interviewing for office staff. I could hire one full time and three part timers/interns. I was really looking forward to the "interview" process. I had a couple of really major attributes I was looking for in all of the positions. Heh heh heh!

Mrs. Anderson had been the Department Secretary as long as I had been here. No one noticed her. No one ever saw her outside of the office. Hell, no one had ever seen her anywhere other than at her desk!

All anyone could say about her was that Mrs. Anderson was a mountain of a woman. She must have weighed in the 250 to 300 range. Probably more. And it was not a somewhat over weight, pudgy range. Mrs. Anderson had multiple chins and rolls of fat everywhere that you could see as she sat behind her desk. Her hands were almost swallowed by her wrists. Her upper arms were the size of whole hams and jiggled while she typed. Hell she jiggled when she sat still. And, again, not in a way that was cute or enticing. Frankly, I tried to not look at her too often. It was up setting.

Although, now that she had drawn my attention I noticed that she didn't appear to be quite as obese as usual. Really hard to tell under the tent like muumuu that she was wearing. Nonetheless, I had no interest in talking with her. I was looking forward to "Interviewing" as many buxom, tight, toned, bra-busting college co-eds as I could before hiring an assistant. It was one of the major perks to the new position. I was hoping to do it year after year, too!

But I knew that I had to at least grant Mrs. Anderson an interview or she could cause a stink.

"That's fine, Mrs. Anderson. Would you like to come by this afternoon or would tomorrow suit you better?"

"Tomorrow will be fine, and thank you," she replied.

The next morning there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Anderson entered. But this was not the mountain of a woman that I had expected. It was Mrs. Anderson, but not as I had ever seen her! No pants suit. No muumuu No billowing scarf to obscure her upper body.

As she approached I looked her over.

She was wearing sky high heeled boots that laced up to just under her knees. The slit in her skirt reached almost to her hips. As she strode into the office that slit parted to show dark stockings which I could see were attached to garters. She wore a double breasted jacket over a white turtle neck. Her body pushed the jacket far out from her body. The hem of her jacket was over a foot from her body where it hung at her hips. Her boobs had to be huge to make that jacket hang like it did. My interest was piqued! Piqued? HELL, my boob radar was ringing alarm bells!

She endured my examination with equanimity as she settled into her chair. In fact I thought I saw a hint of pride on her face as I tried to reconcile her current appearance with the mountain of a woman that I had ignored for so long.

"Excuse me for saying this but you seem to have changed quite a bit, Mrs. Anderson." My voice quavered just a bit. She looked totally different!

"Yes, I know. I started doing Pilates."

"Oh? How long have you been exercising?"

"Almost three weeks," she replied.

"Three weeks?" I was incredulous. Three weeks and she had gone from a mountain of blubber to, well, I wasn't sure what she had become. But she was no longer a mountain of blubber! Whatever was going on on campus seemed to affect different people in different ways. But the overall result was gigantic breasts and a certain, um, freedom of attitude.

She continued. "I have not lost much weight but I've been transformed, nonetheless; Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I've left my husband. He couldn't cope with how I was changing. I feel like a caterpillar that has metamorphosed into a butterfly!" She threw her long reddish hair back over her shoulder.

"That's an apt analogy," I commented. "You have certainly changed your look."

"It's not just my looks that have changed," she replied. "I find that my entire outlook has changed. I enjoy the glances from others. I enjoy watching people that see me and their reactions."

"I've seen the list of the people that you intend to interview." How had she done that? The list was supposed to be confidential and only on my computer. "I know the sort of things that you are looking for in the applicants. I'm so much more qualified than you can imagine!" Her voice was filled with certainty.

"Let me show you what I mean" she was rising from the chair as she spoke.

She dropped the blazer to the floor as she rounded the desk. It seemed that the blazer had been containing her mountainous breasts. I had never seen anything like them!

Her sweater was not low cut, revealing almost nothing. But it bulged alarmingly. The ribbing was stretched to the limits. And the threads of the turtleneck were pulled taut trying to contain her Herculean boobs. Her breasts swung in front of her. They stretched out over two feet from her chest! Maybe more! I hoped to be able to measure them to be sure. I could tell that there was some sort of a bra under that stressed out sweater. But it was clearly inadequate. There were hillocks of flesh evident where she bulged out of the bra above and below. And to each side! Her bra was obviously failing to keep control of her inordinate amplitude.

Those massive torpedoes were much wider than her rib cage, pointy and super big, I didn't think she could reach her nipples, they stuck so far in front of her.

Her skirt dropped away as she joined me on my side of the desk. Those gargantuan breasts almost reached my face while she was still a step or two away.

I could peek below her bosom to see her legs in leather boots, stockings and garters. Those garters framed a minuscule black leather thong before disappearing under her bosom.

Moving languidly, she slid her arms out of the sleeves and, with some effort, pulled it up over the protrusion of her massive bosom and over her head.

After a slight pause she drew her shoulders back, forcing her tits to rise and project even closer to me. The sweater slid to the floor. Now I could see her undergarments. A black leather-like bustier and matching bra. A bra of immensely titanic proportions. The bustier drew her waist in to a shocking degree.

Her bra, even as large as it seemed, was over whelmed by the size of her massive boobs. Those titanic mounds rose up out of the support of the bra, over flowing to the sides and rising until the upper curves almost reached her shoulders. Extra flesh was trying to escape to the sides and bottoms of her stretched out cups.

This was the body of a top heavy seductress who demanded the most from her mates. And the hair with its reddish highlights and her make up only emphasized this. Smoky eye shadow, brilliant red lip stick, pendant ear rings that sparkled in the light just brushed her shoulders as she prowled toward me. I was spell bound in my chair.

She swiveled my chair so that I was facing away from her. I heard soft slithering sounds of fabric, a few soft grunts and then nothing. I could sense her moving behind me.

As I sat in anticipation I felt a weight descend on my head. She was resting a boob on my head! I was enjoying the feeling when the heavy softness slowly began to slide downward. She was now resting both boobs on top of me. They slowly flowed downward, covering more and more of my cranium.

As I watched I saw them descending in front of me. They reached ahead of me farther than I could estimate.

She was allowing her breasts to encase my head. Now over my ears, her breasts continued downward. In seconds they were resting on my shoulders! At the same time I felt her push inward with both hands and forearms on each side. The opening between her breasts in front of me closed, blocking out all light and most of the air. I could still feel her breasts on top of my head and resting on my shoulders as she began to rhythmically flex and manipulate these totally gigantic titties. I wondered if my head was even visible? Again and again she squeezed, released, pushed and pulled. She would lift those gigantic gourds and allow them to once again fall onto my shoulders while twisting and moving behind me. The pressure changed as she worked. It was one of the most erotic feelings I had ever experienced.

I had had titty-fucks in the weeks and months since I had encountered The Presence. But this was the first time my head had been titty-fucked! Mrs. Anderson was titty-fucking my entire head!

She slowly removed her incredible immensities and started to slide around in front of me, dragging those oversized ovoids against me as she went.

"My ex-husband used to enjoy that, until he couldn't keep up with me and left. I love doing it. I love feeling someone between my titties. I love knowing that they have never had a similar experience. There aren't many women as well equipped as I am now. I had to make this bra myself, you know. No one carries anything near my size and it costs hundreds of dollars to have one custom made for me." I couldn't tell if she was complaining or bragging.

She leaned toward me. Her breasts, still resting on my shoulders almost blocked her but she managed to force herself deep between them so that she could run her tongue up the side of my face before she began to kiss me. Her lips were plush, warm and soft. That sexy tongue demanded entrance to my mouth and then she gave me the hottest, scorching kiss I had ever had. She was licking, moaning, panting and mewling with pleasure as she continued to press her lips to mine.

She was pulling herself to me, her body pressing against me while we kissed passionately.

"To think I used to sit at my desk and feel sorry for myself. Always being jealous of those skinny skanks with those puny double D cups! Hah! But now look at me!" Her voice was demanding as she pulled her self away from me so that I could take in the amazing vista that was the new Mrs. Anderson.

"Pilates has been amazing! Look how big my tits are now! If I had known I would have started a long time ago." Somehow, I thought that there was more to it than just Pilates. I suspected The Presence had something to do with it. She had changed from a grotesque mountain of a woman into, into, well, into what I was gazing at in front of me.

It was a staggering sight and I realized that at some point I had reached full erection. It was uncomfortable! As I reached to adjust myself Mrs. Anderson smirked as she recognized my situation.

"Oh, you like what you see? Don't you? You like what my amazing body has become, don't you?" She knew that was the truth. "I'm still getting used to it. But I love it. I love how men stare in disbelief at how busty I have become. I love how they stare. Even if I don't try to show off, they still stare.

"And they get boners. Just like you have now. Come on, show me. Show me how you got horny feeling my boobs around you. How you got a big old stiffie from looking at me. Come on," she urged, "show me!"

So I unzipped and reached in. Pulling out my cock, I showed her how her amazing body had affected me.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" she gushed. "And so big! I had no idea you would have such a large cock! It's gorgeous!" She took to her knees next to me and started stroking my cock with her left hand. "So, so hard. So smooth, so pretty,' she cooed again.

She leaned over and ran her lips up and down the shaft, mewling in pleasure as she worked.

"If I had more time I'd show you how well I can suck a cock, but I don't want to wait. I want to feel this pretty, pretty cock in my poor, neglected cunt."

With some difficulty she stood up and turned toward the office desk.

"Sometimes I have trouble with these gigantically massive, oversized melons," she half apologized and half bragged. "I have no idea how much they weigh but I still weigh over 240 pounds as I've changed so they must weight a Lot!"

With a grunt of effort she hoisted both gigantic tits onto the desk and leaned over to present me with her surprisingly svelte ass.

I didn't need anymore encouragement. I dropped my pants to my ankles and moved behind her. I knew that she didn't need any preparation but I took a moment to slide my fingers up and down her dripping wet cunt lips. I smoothed that fluid onto my cock head and eased myself into her.

"Oh, yes, yes Yes!" she howled as her cunt was pushed out of shape! "I love it! It's even better than I hoped! It Feels So Fucking Good!" She started pushing back against me. Within a few moments my pelvis was pounding against her ass cheeks. Faster and faster we went. Harder and harder we pushed against each other. She was taking every bit of my hefty, foot long cock with each stroke and loving it!

"More, more," she moaned as she leaned forward as far as her tits would allow her. She smiled back at me over her shoulder. "Give me all of it! I need it all, I have to have it. You're a great fuck, and I want you to do me as long and as hard as you can!" She turned back to face forward but her hands reached back to try to pull me to her even harder.

Acting in the spirit of the moment I leaned over her back and reached out to hold onto her boobs. It was impossible! I couldn't reach her nipples, they were too far away. I couldn't get a grip on her tits, they were too big, to solid for me to get any purchase. I had to settle for running my hands over the acres of tit flesh that was in reach. As I pounded her I felt her cunt start to clasp and spasm.

Mrs. Anderson wailed in ecstasy. "I'm cumming, cumming cumming on your beautiful giant cock. I'm cumming, I love it. I fucking Love it!"

I grabbed her shoulders to hold on and fed her long slow strokes until she got her breath back. Then I picked up the pace again.

Within a few minutes she was going thru another cunt rattling orgasm. Crying out in pleasure she made sure that I knew how much she was enjoying what we were doing.

I slowed down again to let her catch her breath. She looked over her shoulder.

"Don't stop, don't stop! Make me cum again. Pound my cunt until you cum. I want to feel you spurt up my cunt, I want to feel you cum in me!"

I was looking at her, watching the light in her

University of TITS: Part 1

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Sat, 22 Aug 2026 21:54:00 +0000

Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science (T I T S): Part 1

Now, here’s another legend in the series.

Unexpected summoning leads to erotic adventures.

A 10-part series, based on the posts by D D D Dave. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The day I met God, started off the same as so many others. I stopped in the Department Office, picked up my mail and said hello to Mrs. Anderson the Department Secretary. Headed to my office. Just like every other day.

I'm an Adjunct Professor at Tennessee Institute of Technology and Science, or T I T S. Adjunct is pretty far down the totem of academia. But I was hoping to get a full time job. My area of expertise is Ancient and Comparative Religions. Exciting, right?

One of the few perks for an AP is that I get an assigned cubicle in the Library. I call it my office. There isn't a door so anyone going by can see I'm working. But it's mine, all mine.

It's quiet, I can nap or read or prepare for classes without being disturbed. And that's where I spend most of my time when I am not teaching a class.

I'd just settled in when Jillian came by. She's one of the Assistant Librarians. And if you think Adjunct Professor in unimportant, well, Assistant Librarians makes us look like rock stars!

I'm sure that you've seen Jillian. You may not have noticed her but you've seen her. Jillian is every cliche of a Librarian. Stick thin. Drab hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of her head. Skirt to mid calf and billowing around her as she moves. White blouse under a half buttoned cardigan. Dish water blue eyes. Behind thick glasses, of course.

Without acknowledging me she dropped a small pile of books on my desk and left. By the time I realized that one of books were not meant for me it was too late and she was out of sight.

"Crap" I muttered to myself. I would have to get the book back to the front desk. Oh well.

The book was an old one. Bound in leather of some sort. The cover had an embossed profile of a woman. She was very obviously female. Her profile looked like a upper case P. Yeah, just like that: P.

Look; I'm a boob man. Always have and always will be. So the cover was interesting and I opened it up to see what it was about.

What it was about was about a long time ago. It was not written in any script I'd ever seen. A little like ancient Hebrew. Or older. But for some reason it seems to make sense to me. Almost like I could hear it in my head as I'm looking at it.

It seemed to be a collection of prayers or entreatments. It was only about 50 pages long. By the time I get to the last couple of pages my mouth is moving in sync with the sounds in my head. I'm mumbling under my breath as I find parts that I can sort of read when someone asks me what I want.

"What is it that you seek, young man?" the voice asked.

"Huh?" I had thought I was alone. I looked around, there was no one there.

"I asked what is it that you seek, Sirrah." Sirrah? I still didn't see anyone.

"Wha,” I never was the quickest guy around. "Who's there?"

"God! You summoned Me! Get to the point." I heard frustration in the voice now.

I summoned? Me?

"Um, I don't know what you're talking about and I still can't see you!" There's that quick witted response I was so famous for.

"You red from the book. You summoned me. What is it that you seek?" The lights flickered and went out.

"There was a time I could have darkened the Sun!" The voice said. It sounded peeved. "How many years have passed?"

"Um, I have no idea?" I ventured.

"Let me explore." I got the feeling of being alone but only for a few moments. Then the Presence was back.

"Alright. I'm up to date. Here's the 411. You have summoned me from a rest of more generations than you could conceive. In the time of Ago there were many like me. Now, most of us are gone. Lack of followers I suppose. They left for other realms, other, you would call them, dimensions.

"But there are still some that continue to worship as they did in the past. In that time Ago you would have been an Acolyte or Priest of mine instead of studying other more recent iterations.

"You do however, still revere the tenants that were the basis of my worshipers."

"Um," I broke into the monologue. "Exactly what was it that you worshiped?" It seemed unlikely but everything I was hearing seemed to have a ring of truth to it.

"Look inward, sonny boy! What is it that You worship?"

"Guh, you mean,” my voice died away in a gurgle. Was the voice suggesting what I thought? "Boobs!" the voice boomed. "TItS, BREASTS, Juggs of the jumbo size! You adore, admire, love and worships big tits! The bigger, the better!"

"Well," I temporized, "I wouldn't say,”

"I damn well would, kid! I can see right thru you, you know! I can see what lurks under that veneer of sophistication. And I can see how you have been and how you have wished and hoped to be!

"Well, this is your lucky day! I may not be able to darken the Sun any longer, apparently that's bad for the climate, but I can sure as Hell make one of my last Acolytes get some satisfaction! So, here's the deal, bucko! You are going to have a lot of fun! Your desires will be met. You needs will be satisfied. Your thirsts will be slaked! You will achieve those things that you have hoped for without knowing.

"Your life is about to become magical! I'll be back to check on you in a while.

"Have fun, sport!" The voice stopped and the Presence seemed to fade away. The lights flickered back on.

I looked around. No one was with in sight. I was all alone.

When I went to the front desk no one had noticed the power failure. And the book, when I handed it back across the desk, no longer had the embossed profile of an impossibly busty woman on it.

"Working too hard," I decided. I headed home, showered and slept.

A week later I noticed that my pants were looser. I'd lost five pounds in a week.

Otherwise, nothing happened. I still looked at the coeds at Tennessee Institute for Technology and Science. I prowled the Internet for busty porn. And I dreamed of the day I could hook up with some woman with a magnificent set of badonkadonks. I lost another three pounds. I found that I was able to climb the five flights of stairs to my cubicle with out getting short of breath.

The Presence may have been right about my interest in the fair sex with the large mounds on their chests. But the reality had always been that I had admired from afar. The one memorable event I had had was a brief dalliance with a girl in High School. She'd sported a larger than average pair. But, as I had found out, most of it was cotton, not flesh. She padded her bras. It was enough to make a grown man cry, let alone a virginal eighteen year old. Since then I'd had a few experiences but none over a 'C' cup. Most of the time I couldn't even muster the courage to approach a well-constructed woman. The larger the bust the more inarticulate I became.

A few weeks after what I had begun to think of as 'my delusion' Mrs. Anderson smiled at me when I picked up my mail. Mrs. Anderson had never smiled at me before.

In fact, thinking back on it, I realized that several young ladies had smiled at me recently.

I had almost recovered from that surprise when it happened again. When Jillian stopped by my cubicle with a couple of books I'd requested she said "Hi."

Another break from the usual. She actually said hello and looked at me for a moment. But just a moment and then she was gone again.

In the next week over a dozen ladies smiled at me as I passed. And one of the baristas where I got my coffee asked me if I "liked it hot?"

She was flirting with me! That had never happened before.

Slowly it sank into my brain that things were some how different. Two things finally penetrated my fossilized brain: One, I was seeing a lot more cleavage, tight sweaters, and blouses that strained to cover bountiful bosoms. Along with shorts and tight skirts. All the girls on campus were showing off more and more. I put it down to the advent of Spring. And Two, I gained some weight in the crotch. I'd never been what you might call "hung.” But I seemed to have gained some heft. I was at least an inch longer and a bit thicker than before. More of the promises made by The Presence?

Then Alice, another Assistant Librarian, stepped into my cubicle.

"I need a hand. Can you help?" I agreed and we walked down the hall to the storage closet. She had lost some files and thought that they may have fallen behind some cabinets.

Sure enough, I was just tall enough to dig them out from where they had landed.

"Oh, goodie! You found them! I thought that they were lost for sure!" Alice was bouncing in excitement. Her cable knit cardigan rose and fell loosely with her movement.

"Glad to help" I answered. As I turned to put the folders onto the desk she flung her arms around me and hugged herself to me.

"Umm," I was surprised. She had never even touched me before. Now here I was, able to feel her body against mine. Able to feel her thighs, her crotch rubbing mine. I was able to feel her surprisingly full breasts as they pressed against my torso. It had the expected effect. I could feel my cock starting to get hard. I could feel the swelling begin as the shaft straightened out and began to stiffen in my pants.

She could feel it as well. Instead of moving away from me she pulled herself tighter against me.

"Umm, I never noticed how cute you are," she breathed, looking into my eyes. "How did I never notice you before?"

"Umm," Her eyes were locked on mine as she lifted herself up to kiss me. On auto pilot, I responded in kind as we locked lips briefly. Her tongue darted out to caress my lips as she pulled away.

"And how could I have not seen this?" her voice rose in pitch as she cupped my crotch in her right hand. "You have a nice cock, don't you? A really nice cock!' She glanced up. "I like cocks, you know."

She licked her lips while caressing my still growing shaft. She sighed as she laid her head against my chest. Her breasts were rising and falling with her breath as her excitement grew.

"I can't wait to see this!" she exclaimed. She pulled back and was on her knees before I could react.

"Now you just stand still while I assess the situation. This won't take long," she assured me.

Deftly she unfastened my belt, pulled my pants to my ankles and yanked my shorts down. My half hard cock bounced out into the open and hung in front of her stunned expression.

"Jesus! This is a nice cock," she yelped. "So nice!"

"This is the nicest fucking cock I've ever seen! How have you been able to keep this under wraps so long?" I'd never heard her swear before. She was always so demure. She was staring up at me while both hands were running up and down my cock. She didn't seem so demure now!

"Urgh,” It was all I could say as I felt her lips caress the tip of my rapidly stiffening cock.

Her tongue flashed out. Slithering around the head of my cock, she then dragged her mouth down to the root of my shaft before she pulled back up and wrapped her lips around the cock head and sucked lightly.

"What a pretty cock! I just love it!" she exclaimed.

Reaching up from her kneeling position she swiftly unbuttoned my shirt. She stood up and while sweeping the shirt off my shoulders she again pressed herself against my torso.

"Oh, you feel so good! You're so muscular!" She was right. Looking down I could see that I had developed a firm six pack to replace the slight paunch that I had come to accept in the past few years. I looked damn good!

"You look so damn good." She echoed my thoughts. "I just want to eat you up!" Her eyes roamed over my body while she pulled her sweater off and dropped her knee length denim skirt to the floor. She wore only a modest pair of panties and a bra that was larger than I would have guessed.

She grabbed my cock in one hand and pulled it into her mouth. With her other hand she released her bra and dropped it to the floor.

Her mouth was flashing up and down my cock. She was taking more and more in on each stroke. I cupped her head in my hands and encouraged her to suck my cock. It felt wonderful. Her free hand was squeezing and pulling on her boobs.

"I need to feel this in me," she exclaimed as she hoisted herself up on the work table. "Come on, fuck my hot wet cunt!" Yeah, really not so demure now.

I moved into position between her legs and slowly fed her the head and then most of the shaft of my cock. It was as if I'd practiced the maneuver.

"Oh, that feels so good when you slide it in and out," she moaned. Her hips started to move beneath me.

At first I was so caught up in the events that were happening that I didn't notice anything except the hot, tight cunt that I was ravaging. Then, as I settled into a rhythm, I noticed.. a few things were happening.

As I watched, her hair lightened in color, become a very pale blonde, almost white. It grew longer and longer. And her skin, formerly a pasty, ashen hue, was becoming tan while her freckles disappeared, one after the other. For some reason this didn't freak me out. I just kept up pushing myself into her as fast and as hard as I could.

"Oh, baby, I want to drink you down when you cum," she moaned. "Let me know when you're ready so I can wrap my lips around your cock, honey!"

No one had ever offered to do that before, it made my cock twitch to think of it.

"Not yet," I responded. "Just a few more strokes, your cunt feels so good!"

"When ever you're ready, stud." she told me. "When ever you're ready." She smiled up at me as I slid back and forth on top of her.

I watched as she moved. Her chest seemed to swell. Her nipples were slowly drawing closer to my chest as we fucked. Her mounds blossomed. She had been a B-Cup when we started. She was bigger now. Firmer too! Those bigger breasts jiggled firmly and they were still getting bigger!

At the same time her waist drew in, her abdomen becoming more defined while her boobs continued growing. They were real melons now. Perfect, pink and erect, her nipples jiggled and shook as we moved against each other.

Finally I could take it no longer.

"Now," I groaned as I pulled back. I slapped my cock against her lips and she sucked it in as far as she could. Her lips, which had been some what on the thin side were now lush pillows which clung greedily to my shaft while her hands encouraged me to blast my load down her throat.

My shaft seemed longer than when we had started but she made no mention of my apparent growth. She just growled in her throat and sucked harder and harder. I was right on the verge when she cupped my balls and massaged them to encourage me to blow!

She was groaning and moaning while slurping up all the juice I had to offer. Rope after rope of cum shot from my cock and was greedily gulped down her throat! Her tongue flashed out to lick up every bit that remained on my shaft as I slid to rest beside her. Both hands were now

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 21

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Fri, 21 Aug 2026 13:56:00 +0000

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 21

Ajax's Funeral

Book 3 in 21 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The Isle Of Salamis, Greece

Two Weeks Later

The Greeks spent their combined fortunes to decorate the cedar coffin, cut from the finest trees on Cyprus, to insure it had all the grave goods a King of Salamis would expect as well as the weapons which drew him to the other side so SzÃ©lAnya could kill him. My two tomahawks plus a bronze dagger with a sheeth of gold and seeded with precious gemstones; Greek symbolism on one side and Amazon symbolism on the other.

Ajax was buried with plenty of scented bags to disguise the smell of decay. The man himself was wearing his death mask; again gold with gems along the crown. Even in death he looked so massive. How had I ever thought I could defeat this man? In fact, I knew I couldn't, thus my deception. He remained a hero, finally felled by a Divine Dragon in my stead.

That was the tale; the Truth; I had revealed to the Teucer and the remaining ten Mycenaeans. They had nodded, some even looked from me and Aya over to the grave which housed their departed leader and shook their heads.

"The daughter of Typhon, eh?" Eruthros chuckled. "It would have been how he would have wished to go; a raging Goddess only he could wound, if not kill."

"Oh, he did that alright," I met his gaze, not sure if I dared meet his smile with one of my own.

"Atta says he shouted his war cry multiple times," Queen Aya added, "and made the Goddess SzÃ©lAnya cry out in pain. It says as much in the rolls of my People; now and forever."

That got more nods all around. It was hard for these men to stay dour in her presence, my fey monarch and holder of the heart of my Fatherhood. One of the others spoke up.

"We do not forgive you for what transpired before the Walls of Troy, Nasusara AssiyaiÅ¡hamai, but forgiveness is not necessary. If what has transpired before has also lost all meaning with so many dead then let us both agree to let it be."

"Please, call me Aya," Aya smiled up at the gruff warrior. "Yes. In Amazon etiquette we call it 'committing this to the nothingness'. It will do neither of our people any good to simply pile on more bodies upon the graves of others. Let this be a new day and see what destiny offers us instead of ceaseless vengeance. I do not forgive you for Troy either, but I know we all have shed enough blood over what has passed."

That got nods all around. Aya took out the blade she had kept in her knapsack and offered it to me.

"You knew the man," she commanded in her piping voice. "Place this upon his chest as a final gift from the Amazon Hosts to the People of the Kingdom of Salamis; let both find the paradise we've been promised. May WÃ¡nax Ajax find his old friends who have gone before him be waiting. They have waited for so long." That earned nods all around.

I went forward to place the dagger on the sarcophagus, Chaz, as my Brother, walked beside me while Eruthros remained behind talking with Aya. Around them stood four of the Queen's bodyguards/tutors. Beyond stood the other dignitaries and their own entourages of attendants and bodyguards as well. Even the Great Khan had sent one of his most senior advisors to be present for the ceremony.

How important the Egyptian Rite folks were wasn't something I could figure out from just a glance, or two. Even the Illuminati, standing in for no one else but Alal were here to show their respects both to the fallen King and to the Grandson who had slain him. The Gida had one of his/her own offspring representing their faction despite all contributions as security went.

Personally, I would have felt better if Pamela had come, but she claimed to have another family matter she had to take care of at the last moment and couldn't attend. Besides, she assured me, I couldn't be safer with all the trained killers who would be guarding their ambassadors for such an important event.

She had given me Chaz as my other family member to stand by my side as well as Alkonyka, the Champion of SzÃ©lAnya who had been boning up on her martial talents since I had brought her and her sister home from Romania. Surely that would be enough. Needless to say, the Condottieri and the Seven Pillars had politely refused the Egyptian Rite's invitation to be at the gravesite which left me deeply concerned, but not enough to back out at this juncture.

Aya had decided it would be bad for her morale if she sent me while refusing to come along. Once more, I failed to overcome her passionate yet logical counters to my worries about her safety as the date to arrive approached. My 'Spidey Senses' were tingling and I didn't like what reports we weren't getting on any possible Condottieri retaliatory strikes aimed our way.

It was serendipity that on the same day of the funeral, the final phase of Operation AkÅ¡a Loksti went into action. Hopefully that would disrupt their plans if they had any. Likewise, there were no reports that suggested the Condottieri were even aware of our moves against Angola which I put down to the Amazons and Coils working so well together. I guess I shouldn't have begun the day feeling so fucking positive.

Back To Operation AkÅ¡a Loksti (White Swan)

The unit's overall commander considered massacring the lot yet finally decided to let her hand stay even though the main force needed them. She left two BVP-98's and their ten Amazons behind to round up the prisoners while she and her M-84 MBT raced southeast because those ladies (and guys) sounded like they were in a world of hurt.

They were alone, yet she and her lone tank were expected to turn the tide. What they discovered was a huge Angolan left hook coming at their defensive position above the Loge; tanks and APCs were fording the Loge closer to the ocean than expected and building up their forces on the coast road /EN100. Something had to be done and quick.

The unit commander knew that minutes were something they may not have so she backed her tank up and deployed her warfighters forward without their own M-98 APC's. The Angolan build up was ignorant of the build up behind them, so when they started rolling forward, she dropped all hell on them from behind. Every two Amazons had a Khanate-built 9K1 35 Kornet Anti-Tank Guided Missile set up and opened fire.

The immediately turned 17 precious T 72 into so much burning wreckage while using RPG fire to send the Angolan APC to similar fates. At the same moment they opened fire, the two trucks bringing resupplies for the unit arrived. Most importantly, they brought eighty more shells for the M-84 to use. There was even more good news.

The crew of the T 95 Degman suspected they could bring their tank back to the fight inside an hour though her mobility would be questionable. She told them to hurry up. She wasn't sure they had an hour. Already the rebel air force had joined the struggle after plastering the supply elements in the rear. Unfortunately the Angolan air defenses were more robust than suspected.

Two SU22 were turned into fireballs with two more limping back to base, most likely removed from the fight entirely. That was as third of their ground attack force gone already and the day wasn't over yet. Still, the Angolans were sluggish to respond. Before their artillery could recognize the threat, the Amazons dropped some 120mm loving on them with their mortars.

The Amazon commander was using her smaller mortars to drop hate on the Angolan infantry which was deploying from their APC and trying to remove her from her vulnerable position. There had to be about a thousand of them coming her way too. Still, by coming her way they were no longer trying to unravel the main defensive line on the high ground above the river.

At the point they decided to start exchanging RPG fire with the dug in Amazons around the road, she brought her own APCs forward to rake the Angolans with dedicated autocannon fire. That broke the back of their charge and sent them scattering back to their own APC, which weren't all that safe. It turned out the Angolans were on the clock too.

The moment the central defensive line beat back the attack by the T-55 tanks of the 101st Tank Brigade, their supporting artillery began dropping hell on the artillery supporting this flanking maneuver. It was just in time too because the Amazon commander didn't have enough firepower to keep them suppressed.

Then it was the job of the remaining T 72; the best tanks in the Angolan inventory; to drive away her deployed infantry and sole M-84. First they concentrated on the M-84 who gamely dispatched T 72 after T 72 once the ATGM fire had removed their reactive armor plates. The whole area around the tank blossomed in clouds of 125 millimeter fire.

In a flash, all of the M 84 reactive armor on the front and the front of both sides had been stripped from her and the remainder of the tank looked streaked with the indentations of the follow-up hits. Seeing as how the tank was about to be destroyed, the Amazon leader order her to withdraw. She was about to be annihilated for no gain.

The M 84 instantly launched a disruptive cloud of smoke grenades around her to shield her actions as she beat feet to the rear. The T 72 kept firing into the general location as they kept coming their way. The ATGM the Amazons were using were failing to penetrate the glacis armor of the Main Battle Tanks they were facing.

With the tank withdrawing, the APC's had to withdraw around the bend in the road as well. Their 30mm guns would have no effect on the onrushing behemoths. Still, the Amazons gamely kept up their fire from their hastily made foxholes. They had to keep the enemy focused on them just a few more minutes until the forces above them on the high ground could shift around and come to their rescue.

And then a miracle occurred.

The T 72 pulled up short and shifted their fire from trying to dig the Amazon out of their holes and back to the main road where, the T 95 had appeared through the dust and smoke. Not only was she launching her own grenades to give her some shelter, her engine was expelling masses of black smoke; proving she was now dead to the world. The Degman spoke first, exiting a T 72 into the afterlife with a single shot.

Her barrel shifted and then was wreathed in smoke as she took three hits to her turret's armor. That shot ripped away the reactive armor plates there, but the tank itself was undamaged. Exit another T 72. Shells were exploding all around her and even hitting her glacis armor to little effect. Exit another T 72, and then another in rapid succession. Two of the M-84's from above had finally shifted around and were firing into the now exposed flank of the Angolan thrust.

The next salvo of ATGM was simply too much for the remaining tankers. They fired off their own smoke grenades and began backing up toward the river. Their infantry scrambled to keep up; and not to be overrun by their own vehicles. The helicopters arriving was simply icing on the cake. That rout was on and the firing continued. Even 'her' M 84 returned to add her own firepower to the debacle.

Her timely arrival and superior placement of her small command had broken the back of the Angolan offensive, and then the terrible slaughter took place, just as predicted. The Angolans simply abandoned their towed artillery and the oncoming air assault concentrated on the fleeing mobile batteries as well as their few remaining anti-air assets.

It was a complete disaster for the Angolans. Their conscript soldiers threw away anything which could slow them down in their flight to the rear. For the combined forces of Cabinda and Zaire, there was only the time it took to rearm and refuel then the pursuit took place. Well into the night, they followed the remaining elements of the Angolan army, some ambitious Amazon scouts going so far as to see the lights of Luanda before calling it quits.

In the capital there was complete panic. Their army hadn't been beaten; it had been Utterly destroyed. With the enemy coming on fast to their doorsteps, the leaders got into their fancy automobiles and fled south, some not stopping until they crossed the border into neighboring Namibia. Then they had to fall down on their knees and beg for immediate South African aid.

The South Africans were coming, but so was the United Nations and the other countries in the Lusosphere. They were reporting the Angolans being skunked on their national news networks along with the massive celebrations in Cabinda over their surprise liberation. Jailed and recently escaped leaders were on the balcony of the military governor's palace to announce the creation of their new nation.

They also called on their countrymen to rise up and take up arms to defend their newfound liberties then thanked God on High for their liberation. Best of all, the military which had done the deed was already seen moving off to the frontiers to protect against 'foreign' intervention while leaving the people free to chart their own destiny.

Elections were promised as was a new constitution. It had been a tremendous victory and the rebel forces responsible, wanted seemingly nothing. What they did want was anonymity. They had done what they had done to give the Cabindan and the Bakongo of Zaire breathing room to chart their own course and they would be around only as long as it took for them to decide on what they wanted to do now that peace, prosperity and all that oil money was finally theirs.

While some of their leadership living in exile griped about the 'backroom deals' which permitted their new nation to exist, it was subtly explained to them what their options were; Freedom, or Angola. If they really didn't want to surrender up some of that control to the 'third party' aka the Amazon Host and give them Soyo then the Amazons and their allies could simply go.

No one wanted that so the Amazons got their small archipelago, the Coils of the Serpents got their diplomatic status, and their people got to live without fear of being arbitrarily arrested, or robbed of their petroleum birthright. They wouldn't be completely happy, but they were free to gripe about it as much as they liked, because that was what real freedom was all about.

As for that Amazon Commander? By midnight that evening, her reduced command, though battered, low on fuel and ammunition was at the outskirts of Ambriz... and there were no more Angolan soldiers left to kill. They had won the Battle of the Loge and in doing so, seized a new homeland for her people; the Amazonian City-State of New Themiscyra. Queen Aya would be so proud.

If only she knew her Queen had almost died that very day, but she didn't so her warrior's heart was allowed to beat softly as she grabbed some much needed shut eye. With the dawn tomorrow she would begin their retreat back to the Loge and the relative safety their new neighbors offered in exchange for their freedoms.

Eulogy

Back To The Funeral, The Isle Of Salamis, Greece

'I love more than I hate'.

I had been babbling that for twelve weeks. I'd convinced others to say it; even feel it yet it wasn't until I found myself staring into Eruthros' dead eyes did the full colossal weight of those words come tumbling down.

'Love more than hate?' Hate had bourn Eruthros through the Endless Black Sands for Three Thousand Years. His hate, focused by Ajax and aimed at the Amazon Race. Three thousand years. Hate rarely cares about guilt. They had wronged the Amazons; there was no doubt of that in anyone's minds. For three thousand years, neither side had cared for the others' excuses.

In the last minute of Eruthros' life, he had thrown away that reality-rending weight for the epitome of his rage; its ultimate personification of the Amazon spirit; and all he had to do was 'nothing' to let hate take its course. No blade, or bullet was necessary; no push, fist, or kick. All he had to do was nothing and the Amazons would have been robbed of their Queenly House for a second and most-likely final time.

Had he thrown his body over Teucer? Highly understandable. Teucer was his fallen Lord's half-brother.

Had he taken himself to safety? No one was immediately trying to kill him and shelter was a few steps away, so he would have been temporarily secure.

Eruthros deliberately ended his life with no greater certainty than had he pushed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin and pulled the trigger. Had he deliberated at all, it wouldn't have mattered. Bullets were buzzing around over 1000 meters per second. Lifetimes had collapsed into the Nano-second. In that pulse, Eruthros acted out of the purist of human instincts. A child was in danger and he was the closest adult who could make a difference.

He threw himself on Aya. That was the instinctive human reaction. They had been speaking pleasantly before the first bullet's impact. Aya's closest Amazonian protector had absorbed the entirety of the machinegun chatter devoted to ending the Queen's existence; and still was. Her other three closest guardians had been removed by dedicated sniper fire. Our foes Absolutely were going to kill Nasusara AssiyaiÅ¡hamai, the diminutive monarch of their hated foe.

The rest of her bodyguard was too far away. We; Queen and diplomat; had gone to the grave side to pay our last respects when the ambush was launched. They had shredded everyone else around her and only her tiny size shielded by larger, female corpses had kept her alive up to that moment. There was no one else left capable of saving her. There never would be.

What followed was a deliberate decision which could never be denied. It was a choice made knowing it would cost him what short time he had left to provide Aya with whatever hope the living might still provide.

Laying prone and unmoving, the enemy might shoot him, or they might wait until they had dispatched the others. Eruthros knew he was critically wounded already.

Moving would ensure the assassins kept firing at him (and Aya). If he succeeded, he could propel her to a place where she would be safer, if only for a minute more.

"Har nahkuitki."

Eruthros' last words; 'have no fear'. Was that aimed at calming Aya, or inspiring himself? Since the word were in the Amazon tongue, who knew?

I was looking at him, still trying to figure out a way to get to those two. I looked into his eyes. He did not look into mine. I thought he was looking at the spot between myself and Teucer where we shared an impossibly cramped bit of temporary shelter. For all I knew, by that time he wasn't looking at anything at all. His brain had fired off its final orders and the body, though mangled, obeyed.

I saw a high-velocity round transect his torso as he pushed himself onto 'all fours'. There was no way that tumbling projectile missed both lungs and heart. His strong right arm kept Aya pressed to his chest as he went from knees and elbows to toes and left palm.

"Har nahkuitki."

His lips muttered the words as blood spewed forth from his mouth and nose. His left knee pulled toward his chest, allowing his body to tilt in that direction. That gave Aya a few more inches worth of bloody shelter. I was sure he was hit again. Rock fragments leapt off the ground; shattering the stones they had most recently vacated.

His left thigh flexed, surging him forward. The left palm directed the thrust upward before rising off the ground entirely and encircling Aya. As the right leg began to fulfill its role, a bullet pierced it. With the femur splintered, the brunt of the action was taken over by the uncoiling muscles.

By the time the left knee returned to his chest, Eruthros' body had molded around Aya's. Bullets were coming in from above and behind. Only the meat and bone of his arms shielded her from the ricochets. He took impacts from the back and right simultaneously, causing his body to twist in an unnatural angle. His light protective armor, worn specifically to be 'unobtrusive' for this ceremony, wasn't enough for this ammunition specifically designed to defeat it.

He refused to let go despite the hydrostatic shock ripping his insides to pieces. Teucer and I caught him, drawing his crashing form between us. I did him poor service. I flipped him over to retrieve Aya. Absently I noticed his wide eyes sta

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 20

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Thu, 20 Aug 2026 13:55:00 +0000

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 20

The 5 guys struggle for survival

Book 3 in 21 parts, By FinalStand.

Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Pulau Setan Wanita, Indonesia - Island Of The Devil Women.

The 150 Condottieri mercenaries stealthed onto the Island of the Devil Women pre-dawn, but waited until the island was fully awake before launching their assault. They did this because the majority of the women slept in one conjoined area while during the day, they spread out, thus were hopefully easier to overwhelm in bite-sized chunks.

When the attack went in, Khalid Adzharia, Brian Fung and Trent Grant were in different areas of the Havenstone compound. When neither was being milked of their seed, they had jobs to perform on the island. Neither was permitted a job which allowed them access to either transport off the island nor any long-range communication gear. All computer access was monitored and by LAN line only.

Trent Grant remained a financial investigator though he currently reported to someone not nearly as high up in that branch of Havenstone as he once enjoyed. Brian was in the same boat in Acquisitions with the high hopes of working himself up in importance to the point he would leave this prison-island; at which time he would leave Havenstone for good.

Khalid, who had been there the longest, had a different outlook on things. He realized this was where his life ended. There would be no escape unless he managed to vacate the island under his own power and with his own initiative. Worse; for him; he had begun to develop an emotional attachment to three of the ladies on the island. He was screwing them constantly even after being milked.

Worst of all; one of the ladies was now pregnant with a child who could only be his. All the 'old male' population had been sent away (exterminated) so he, Brian and Trent were it, on an island of roughly five hundred Amazons. Neither of those two men had the stones to cross him on this matter and he'd made it clear to both those three women were 'his'. The surveillance officers monitoring the trio found that sense of male possessiveness 'amusing'.

Trent? Trent had developed a personal hatred for Brooke and, by association, all the women in her sorority. After all, Trent had all his lies perfectly balanced inside Havenstone only to have Brooke stop by and fuck things up for him. Now he was a prisoner, milked of his seed daily and was constantly being hit on by a bevy of beautiful Indonesian women. His predicament was All Brooke's fault.

Like Khalid, he realized the only escape from this feminist hell was in his own capable hands. Again, the security women tasked with monitoring the two of the three found their plans to escape to be amateurish and filled with a willful misunderstanding of what Amazons were all about; aka they were all sneaky bitches.

They had tracking devices sown into their clothes along with some of their jewelry; offered to them by women the men had slept with as signs of their gratitude for being chosen; being tiny microphones. All their plans were immediately reported and recorded for further examination; in case there were actually any flaws in the island's security.

The one monitoring Brian was deeply depressed though. Her 'guy' was an utterly dull ignoramus. He made no realistic plans to escape, formed no essential bonds with any of his captors nor with his fellow prisoners, and was an otherwise diligent little weasel. These Indonesian Amazons didn't hold much reverence for the weasel btw.

The Condottieri did a good job of spoofing the island's defensive net. Their one mistake was purely accidental. As they closed in one of the office complexes, they stumbled upon and were encountered by two Amazons out for an early morning run. They were avid joggers who normally 'did their thing' around dusk, but had an important teleconference that night so improvised.

Even as the two ladies went for their sidearms they were 'neutralized' by the Condottieri squad they'd encountered. At the main security hut, the guardian on duty noted two heart signals spike; then stop. The odds of both having immediately fatal accidents was so unlikely as to be impossible.

Even as she reported the incident to her superior, she put the whole island on silent alarm. If nothing else, it would be a good surprise exercise for her fellow Amazons. All around the island, the women went into instantaneous defense mode, gathered up their assault rifles & PDWs and, not being attacked, went hunting for their attackers. That was standard protocols.

Back at the security base, all those Amazons went for their body armor first. It was normally too hot and humid during the summer day to wear them. That accomplished, they dispatched their sole squad of SD's (Security Detail) to the sight of the first incident; the death of the two runners.

At the same time the on-sight Condottieri commander accelerated his own plans, indicating all units to immediately launch their assault on the closest work areas instead of waiting for all the other teams to be in place. In one instance, a Condo team ran smack into the stealthing forward SD team. Bullets were exchanged.

The SD came out on top as they were more accustomed to making head shots than their opponents. They also reported their situation to the Security base before continuing to advance. Since ten men invading the island made no tactical sense, the islands 'War Chief' went to full alert; it was time to hunt down and exterminate the enemy presence in their home.

The Condottieri leader knew he was in trouble when one team reported coming to the sanitation work base only to find it unoccupied; those Amazons were already out hunting down their foes, while another detailed the alertness of the Amazons in the area they were assaulting. The sounds of automatic weapon's fire and grenade explosions began echoing all over the island.

Gunless.

Needless to say none of the men had firearms though they knew each Amazon was armed with a knife and pistol. They also knew were they kept the heavier weaponry yet were afraid to approach that area of the complex because they had little doubt the Amazons would shoot through any human shield they had just to make them suffer. Besides, none of them knew the combination to the gun locker; yet.

When death came calling, each man approached the situation differently. Brian's Acquisition section was in the same part of the complex as Banking. There, day in and day out, he looked over prospective properties for the Amazons to purchase. His reviews were entered into the system by another Amazon. Gaining so much knowledge of how the Amazons operated, he promised himself he would one day expose them, once he was safely away, of course.

"Pick up the pistol," hissed a coworker across the hall where Brian cowered. He was not so much terrified; he was definitely afraid, but not unmanned by it; as he didn't feel this was his fight, so why become involved? The Amazon supervisor had been moving down the hall, when she was suddenly taken out by a sound-suppressed PDW. She had dropped her pistol as she expired.

The two of them; the coworker Amazon and Brian; were now being pinned down by that same fire pattern and the lone Amazon wasn't enough to keep them at bay for long.

"Pick up the damn pistol," she growled his way, and then the grenade came bouncing down the hallway.

It went off, stunning him and knocking him over, further into his cubicle. When he came to a man in jungle camouflage came rushing forward and put a three-round burst into the woman across the hall; he thought her name was Citra; then turned on Brian.

"Don't shoot," Brian pleaded. "I'm a guy; their prisoner. I can tell you all kinds of things about their organization. Please, don't kill me."

"Command; I have a male prisoner here," the merc said over his mouth mic. "Roger that."

"Let's go," the man directed. "We are getting you out of here."

Brian couldn't help but smile. He was escaping and sooner than either of those other two idiots were. He wanted to laugh out loud, but decided against it. The merc pushed him ahead of him and the two began racing away from the battlefield. Indeed, Brian had escaped, but only into Condottieri's cruel custody.

Trent and Brian.

Trent's space in Financial Investigations was larger than Brian's small unit. Because of that it received attention from two Condottieri squads, moving in from different directions, trying to catch the Amazons in a crossfire. It almost worked too. Only the team's supervisor's quick thinking kept that from happening. Still, their situation was dire.

"Here," Laras, the team supervisor handed Trent a pistol. "Today, everyone fights."

"I, this isn't my fight," he shook his head. Laras glared. She was about to turn away when Trent called out, "Wait! I'll do it."

She gave him the firearm and pointed to a thick support column.

"Stay there and be prepared for Amazons to fall back to your position if things get bad," the Amazon commanded. Almost as an afterthought she gave him a spare magazine as well.

As she rushed off in another direction, Trent contemplated shooting her. At the last moment, before he raised the gun, he decided he didn't mind the captivity as much as he would risk trying to join up with the attackers. After all, they could be much, much worse. Instead he took his position at the column, and just in time. He saw a grenade flying through the air, coming his way.

He ducked behind the column and hunkered down. The grenade went off as an airburst blew less debris in his direction. It was still a staggering experience. Trent shook the cobwebs out of his brain then peaked around the column in the direction the grenade came from. Two men in body armor and camouflage clothing were rushing forward toward the downed Amazons in his section.

"Fuck this shit," he muttered before steading the pistol with his left hand. He was by no means a marksman, but had taken an anti-kidnapping course when he was eighteen. Up came the pistol and he began firing. Alternating between the two combatants every two shots until he was empty.

"Oh God," he nearly wept. "I'm about to die." Neither man was dead.

Then a body slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. He was about to start showing the fucker some martial arts moves when he realized it was an office worker of his; Nadia by name; and she had brought along a coworker Trent had never gotten to know all that well. Those two ladies brought up their PDW's and opened up on the two men Trent had been holding at bay.

Trent crawled back behind the column and behind Nadia. When she stopped to reload, she stole the pistol from his grasp, popped out the magazine and reloaded for him; even chambering the round.

"Good job Trent," she grinned. "Now let's kill these bastards."

"I; ah; okay," he meekly agreed. Honestly, he was terrified, but even the changing dynamic; his gun being reloaded; hadn't changed the prisoner-warden mindset which drove him to survive. Off the two women went, Trent in tow. Battle wasn't as glorious as his ancestors had described. It was awful and he never wanted to experience that again if he could help it.

The Assault.

While Trent's group sought out financial opportunities within the scope of Havenstone's possessions, or new acquisitions, Khalid's group sought out the same information concerning operations of Havenstone's enemies. Though he had never admitted it, even to himself, he relished the challenge. This was some James Bond bullshit he was caught up in here at Havenstone.

When the assault began, he was at the water cooler, chatting up his; he hated the term; baby mamma. She and the other Amazons found his lack of understanding of the pregnancy situation to be amusing. After all, she had only known a week thus was only seven weeks in that condition. Then the silent alarm went off.

"I didn't know we were having a drill?" Mutia, his lover, commented.

"Then this might not be a drill," one of his coworkers replied. The ladies began sprinting toward the gun locker even as they checked the readiness of their sidearms. At the locker the supervisor was directing the women to their battle stations; Mutia was in the 'reaction force'; even as another Amazon handed out the assault weapons and the bandolier of spare magazines.

"What are you doing here?" the supervisor asked him. "Go back to your station and take cover there."

"No," Khalid protested. "I want one. This is my home too."

"Wait here," the supervisor said. Khalid nodded.

"How do we know you can be trusted?" she asked once the last of the Amazons had been armed and rushed off to their station.

"Mutia is carrying my child," Khalid explained. "That is who I'm fighting for."

"Here," the supervisor said," as she repeated the process with Khalid. "Join the 'reaction force'. When there is a breach, you will go to it. Kill everyone who isn't one of us."

"Understood," Khalid nodded. Inside of him a fury was building, but for the first time in months it wasn't aimed at any woman, or group of women.

Someone was threatening his lover and his child, for fuck's sake. They had to pay. Khalid jogged off to join Mutia and the others. The supervisor began going over her positions so was on the opposite side of the building when the Condo team blew an emergency door and penetrated the building from that direction. In this case, their object was not just to kill as many Amazons as possible, but to locate their on sight computer network and download whatever sensitive data lay within.

As the sounds of the fighting echoed through the building, the supervisor ordered the 'reaction force' to proceed to the 'sound of the guns'. Khalid, ahead of the others, began jogging in the general direction of the bullets.

"Khalid, wait," Mutia called out.

"They are going to the computer room," he intuited. "We need to hurry."

With him in the lead, the Amazons rushed to keep up. Khalid was saved by the expedience of the Condottieri sentry looking the other way for an instance combined with the sponginess of the wooden floor absorbing the sound of his foot falls. The two men collided, but Khalid was both the bigger man and consumed by rage. He slammed the stock of his PDW into the man's face once; twice; three times. As the enemy slumped down, he stomped on his neck, breaking it.

"Let's go," he whispered to the rather impressed Amazons.

And Khalid led the way. As the 'reaction force' burst into the Computer Room, they caught the Condo's unprepared for their sudden arrival. Bullets began to fly around the room. In the exchange of lead, Mutia was hit in the chest; a really bad wound. Seeing that, something inside Khalid snapped. His military lineage was nothing compared to that of Trent, but some of his poorer relations had gone on to become police officers.

Still, he had an ancestor in the 54th Massachusetts Regiment in the Civil War. When he first saw the film Glory his heart had swelled with pride. In that instance, he felt that ancestor calling to him the way Denzel Washington's character had cried out to his fellow warriors in that climactic final scene. After that, he didn't remember much else.

In the classic sense, he went berserk. He fired his weapon on fully automatic until it was empty then he charged. He was hit twice yet refused to succumb to the shock and pain. He slammed into the closest Condottieri, lifted the man up and threw him at two others. He jumped on that jumbled pile of humans attacking with inhuman ferocity.

His fists, forearms, elbows, knees and feet were all weapons and he didn't stop until an Amazon pulled him off. Then she finished off the mangled men with her pistol; each earned a shot to the nose bridge. For a second no one said a thing.

"We've got a breach on the other side of the building," the Amazon related. "Can you still carry on?"

"Sure," he slurred slightly, coming down from that organic combat high.

"You've been shot twice and stabbed once, so I'm just curious," she pointed out.

Khalid looked down at his own bloody body then back up to the Amazon.

"Mutia?"

"She might pull through," the Amazon shrugged.

"Let's go then," he shook his head a few times to clear the lingering cobwebs. The Amazon took his PDW from him, put in a fresh magazine then returned it before turning and headed out the room, Khalid followed along to the best of his ability. Only later did Mutia explain things to him. He hadn't experienced 'Black Rage'. What he had gone through was much older and more primal; a trance-like fury in which he never lost focus on who the enemy was; and who wasn't.

It was something the Amazons had a long history with; those special warriors who could set aside pain and debilitating wounds for the sake of one's people. His hate had never been focused on the Amazons, and that was a critical thing and noted by all who saw him fight, or recover.

"Maybe we were wrong about you," the supervisor said to him after the battle was over and the surviving Condottieri had escaped back to their boats.

Even then, over eighty littered the island dead; the Amazons were not interested in taking prisoners. In contrast, the Amazons suffered thirty-eight dead and seventy-one wounded enough to need some time to recuperate. Khalid and Trent; but mostly Khalid; were given new respect by the Amazons and the offer was given for them to return to 'the World' and Havenstone if they so desired.

Brian had been recaptured, but also was given the possibility of returning to the outside world. After all, his genetics hadn't turned out to be all that exceptional when put in the crucible of battle. Needless to say, all three men agreed to return to the World. Captivity, no matter how attractive, or meaningful, was still slavery in their minds.

Brian signed every bit of paper they put before him, such was his anxiety about being caught trying to escape with the Condottieri. Trent signed with greater trepidation. Though he had acted with some sense of martial ability, his heart hadn't been it. Khalid showed the most regret and it took both Trent and a recovering Mutia to convince him to return to his world and his family.

Since he harbored the desire to see his child come into the world, he decided to remain in Havenstone; not even a 'Runner', just a male. When he finally met up with Cáel and Felix, he was clearly surprised they'd both made it on the outside. The lunch they shared on Khalid's second day back in New York City was eye opening for the lot of them that was for sure. Still, each of the five of the New Hires had survived, in one form or another.

Finally Back Home

Havenstone Headquarters, New York City

I biked into work early Tuesday morning. I had spent most of Sunday recovering from the Great Hunt and my grievous wounds inflicted on me by Elsa. Monday had been devoured by my flight from Buenos Aires to New York. I had stumbled into my apartment late Monday night to find Odette, Timothy and Sovann waiting for me.

They hugged me and congratulated me on my victory in the Great Hunt without me telling them a damn thing. They read it on my face and in my posture. Afterwards I showered and went to bed. Odette cuddled up next to me, but didn't demand sex so I went without. I was so damn tired inside and out from the three day ordeal.

Felix Shines.

In my mind's eye, I went back over the events as they unfolded, Felix's stunning reversal of fortune saving my ass, and even my whispered memory from Alal. I made a mental note to contact my blood brother, the Great Khan, and thank him for his gift of the ninja team which also saved our combined asses on more than one occasion.

Yet, real sleep evaded me. Instead I was submerged in a combination of my own thoughts and memories with those of Alal; is growing up into his powers and the secrets he had seized from the Ancient World as well as his own current immortality; his avatar of willpower

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 19

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Wed, 19 Aug 2026 13:53:00 +0000

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 19.

The Great Hunt.

Book 3 in 19 parts, By FinalStand.

Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

â€˜The Hunt is never an easy thing because in the Wild there are things which hunt the hunters'

September 11^th: First Day Of The Great Hunt

Central Argentina

Felix was still nursing his hurt hand when I came back from my Ishara-space.

"Well?" he smirked.

"Plenty of good news," I smirked right back from the place where I had dropped when Felix had cold-cocked me. "Suffice it to say the weather on the final day will be in our favor; no more precise answer than that from the goddess SzÃ©lAnya; plus our horses will not throw us, or give away our position. That's from the Goddess Epona by the way."

"Finally, the Goddess Ishara will be watching over us and our travails... she will send omens to warn us of hunters closing in as well as talk to me in my dreams. Apparently she doesn't want me; us; to shame her in this contest so is taking this competition seriously. Mind you, this means the other goddesses will be taking this contest seriously as well, so we have our work cut out for us again."

"What is Ishara the Goddess of again?" the teased me.

"Oaths, love and medicine," I repeated my answer.

"Fine," the grinned, "is there any goddess in my corner?"

"None that bothered talking to me," I snorted. "Want me to knock you out and see what you can see?"

"Nah... I'm Felix Melena. I work better alone."

"You mean in alone in a team of two, right?"

"Yeah; a team of four actually, Nyilas. Don't forget our mounts," Felix motioned to our two horses.

I was ecstatic because they had brought Peppermint down from 'Summer Camp' for this romp through the Pampas. To me she was the perfect mare for this endeavor.

Felix had been gifted with a spirited gelding named 'Thunderbolt'; 'Rayo' in Spanish. He was a black haired beast with white sox and a white diamond on his forehead. Felix had wanted a stallion, but the Horse-mistresses of Epona had nixed that choice as highly impractical for a horse-virgin such as himself. I had to agree as stallions had far too much spirit and the likelihood of one making noise when it smelled an unknown mare was far too high... so a gelding it was.

Not that an 'unknown' mare was that much of a possibility. See, we had been put down where the other thirty huntresses would also be starting from; a makeshift corral our host Freehold had put together as the entrance to some 'badlands' in which the hunt would be taking place. There ten Amazons; with their own mounts; manned the place, fed the horses and made sure no one cheated out of the starting gate.

We had our 24 hours head start on our pursuers, but that didn't turn out to be the huge edge we thought it would be. We were given the first part of our map... which led to the area we would find our second part of our map... and so on until sometime late Saturday night, or Sunday morning, we would find the final part of our map which would direct us to where our extraction point would be.

We were to be extracted at Noon; not sunset as we had originally been told; on Sunday. Actually, anytime between ten minutes before to ten minutes after... so fair this was not seeing as we were novice outdoorsmen. Still, those were the rules we were given so off we went early Thursday morning. In the truest Amazon fashion, this was to be a contest which required the utmost skill and endurance to win.

Heading out, Felix and I were deciding on what the enemy strategy, or strategies, would be. We figured some would start by simply trailing us seeing as how they were better both at tracking as well as doing so from horseback. The second group would follow a different, but equally difficult 'Treasure Hunt' toward our final point of extraction and wait for us there.

I reminded Felix that neither he nor I nor any of the Amazons would be riding our horses to death, or even injury, because that wasn't the Amazon way. Such callous disregard for one's mount wasn't in them and we had to follow that dictum, or suffer irreparable harm to our own 'honor' should we do so and somehow win. Doing so and losing... we decided to not even go there.

This also meant we had to take time for our horses to graze and find water for them to drink along the way. After getting that lecture, Felix wondered out loud if it wouldn't be a better idea for us to let our horses loose and 'hoofing' it ourselves seeing as how the Amazons would also have to follow the same horse etiquette. I had to remind him reluctantly how much faster horses could travel. Horses were the way to go.

The difference was there was no rapid charging across the landscape with the Sun at our backs as we headed out. No, we took it at a steady trot until we hit our first terrain feature; a steady gradient cut in the side of a canyon which had been created over the millennia by the forces of wind and rain. Down we went. Our horizon sunk down until all we had were the walls of the canyon.

Our map directed us to take this route to the first 'treasure horde', whatever that was. By the way we were moving and how the Sun slowly crawled up above us; recall it was almost 'spring' down under; we figure we were making good progress toward our first target... which we located without too much hassle around noon.

It was a Bonanza! Not for us, but for the horses. We had four bags of grain for our mounts. We humans received some sort of indescribable jerky (since it was probably not human we decided to eat it... later [it turned out to be the local flightless bird and it tasted like chicken jerk jerky too!]). There was also the second part of our map which led us farther out into the wilderness. Off we went.

Third Treasure Trove.

By evening we had found our third treasure trove. The second had contained two compasses and two hatchets (Yippee!). The third had contained two sections of twenty-five meter rope and some flint and tinder so we could start a fire. Felix was all for this as it was butt-numbing cold already and we were damn tired from a day full of riding.

We compromised by creating a banked fire. We also decided to sleep instead of pushing on. It was pretty dark outside even with the three-quarters Moon above. We definitely didn't want to walk our mounts into something which could bring them up lame this early in the contest. I assured Felix we couldn't abandon them and leading them would be torture. Essentially we would be disqualified.

I won the compass toss and got to sleep the first part of the night. Felix woke me around Moon-set and then I kept watch; there were predators about, or so we believed; until sunrise. Then we ate the last of the jerky, fed and watered our mounts then head out once more. This time our hearts began to hammer within their cages and every noise had sinister implications.

See, the Amazons are cheating bitches of all cheating bitches and could have started after us at 12:01 last night and pushed on following our trail through the night. Being expert horsewomen and spectacular trackers they could do shit like that. We, their prey, had to be clever in other ways. What those ways were weren't relatively apparent though.

Maybe Pamela could show up and, after slapping me upside my head, give me a clue. No Pamela arrived though so we were on our own. Shortly after the Sun crested the canyon walls; we kept to the canyons just in case; we came across the fourth 'trove'... and it was chilling. We received two binoculars and some more jerky (it was to be our lunch). The binoculars were the chilling part because if WE had some then most likely the Amazons behind us had some as well.

Also, the way from our fourth treasure to out fifth put us in the horns of a dilemma. We could either cut over the sides of the canyon to where the fifth treasure trove/map was, or keep to the canyon and travel three times the distance. After a quick discussion followed by some 'rock-paper-scissors' (complete with a prayer to Dot Ishara), I won, so up and over the side we went.

To reduce the size of our silhouette, we dismounted and led our horses across the... and stumbled across a herd of cattle; Sweet Mother Ishara! We moved through the herd, waved to the accompanying Amazon gaucho, and went on our way. Felix muttered something about my 'dumb' luck. He-he-he-he-he... We talked to the gaucho, turned on the charm and convinced her to not tell any of our pursuers we had come by this way.

She was like nineteen years old and I could tell really took a shine to Felix... so he promised to come back and visit her the moment he won the contest. After we departed her and her track-erasing herd of cattle, I pulled him aside.

"You had better keep that promise to that girl. If you don't, she and her kinfolk will hunt your ass down and tag you like a mule deer in the Yellowstone," I cautioned him.

"I know. I know," he grinned. "These are some crazy ass bitches. Besides, being the lone male in a freehold of women has its own appeal."

I thought we were in safe territory again when Felix finally asked that doom-laden question.

"Cáel , where have all their dudes gotten off to?"

'Oh shit', I mused. How much of the truth could Felix handle?

"I'm only telling you this because I like you," I said then took a deep breath. "They sold them to the Nine Clans... they are a bunch of assassins."

"Really?" he studied me. Like he was going to catch me in a lie after four years of dating the most dangerous game on this Earth; girlfriends.

"Really. Where do you think they get those legion of ninja and combat fighters from? Sure their life expectancy isn't what we have, but it is much better than they would have if they stayed home." There was some part of the truth in that.

"That seems... short-sighted."

"What do you think guys like us are for? Now they won't have to kidnap local passer-byers for weeklong orgies."

"How come words has never gotten out about this?" Felix was relentless.

"It has from time to time, but Havenstone makes sure such reports are relegated to the realm of tabloids and UFO aficionados. If that doesn't work, they bribe some people to bury the story. If that doesn't work, they kill some people."

"Now that I believe," Felix nodded.

"That they kill people to keep their secrets?"

"Absolutely. They look like the kind of girlfriend who wouldn't be happy unless she burns your balls before your eyes after you break up."

"How succinct," I nodded back.

"So, are we ever going to see Khalid, Trent, or Brian again?"

"Sure... they are only being kept prisoners and milked of their seeds... but I can arrange for you go to go meet them if you really want to," I offered.

"No thanks," Felix shook his head then grinned. "They washed out while only you and I remain. Let me find them on my own and get some sort of permission from Ms. Love (Katrina) first. I thought Khalid was kind of cool and Trent was the kind of brother I could invite out for a beer, or ten."

"Not Brian?"

"Brian was too invested in himself and his weevil-ing ways. I couldn't trust him at my back, or with my girl. Mind you, I wouldn't trust you with my girl either, but we are otherwise okay."

"Smart move. I have exceedingly low impulse control around the ladies plus an over-developed libido."

"Yeah," he smiled my way. "I'd trust you in a knife fight, but not with someone I loved. You are way too smooth, Nyilas. Way too smooth."

"What brought that revelation on?"

"Ms. Lee (Brooke). Normally I can mend any fence with any girl I come across, but not with her after she'd been with you. I admire that," he studied me.

"So, are you and Gene going to be a regular thing?"

"Yeah. I think so. I still expect me to be getting plenty of tail at Havenstone once I win this thing, but having a less-lethal girl on the outside wouldn't suck either."

So much like me... I admired that about the guy.

"Once we win, don't ya mean?"

"Sure thing, Nyilas," he chuckled. "I figure it helps me to help you across the finish line. The better standing you end up in the better an ally you make back at work."

"That reminds me; Katrina told me they are going to spin this; your participation in this inaugural Great Hunt is that all sins are forgiven; yadda, yadda, yadda. Thus you still walking around Havenstone being the bad boy you are."

"Clever lady and always thinking ahead. Is she seeing anybody?"

"No, and dude, you don't want to go there. She is far too clever by half to fall for any of our reindeer games. She scares me," I cautioned him.

"All the more reason to pursue her," he snorted.

"Go for it," I shrugged. Hey, I'd warned the guy.

"What about that blonde number I saw you with... Elsa was it?"

Oh, he knew exactly who Elsa was, but he was acting all nonchalant about his treatment at her hands.

"Yeah. Elsa. What about her?"

"Is she in your stable?"

"Nope. Not really," I shrugged. "Going after her too?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Good luck with that," I sighed. He'd learn the hard way.

"There is something you are not telling me."

"Yeah. She has the hots for me. Wants to own me... and not in a good way."

"Oh... is that your way of cautioning me to be wary of her?"

"Most definitely. Elsa is one scary lady and she already knows who and what we both are."

"What are we?" he was eyeballing me again.

"Hunters on the prowl. Guys who like a challenge. In your case, the guy who only wants the best. I'm more of an omnivore."

"You mean you are a man-slut," he snorted.

"Got me," I chuckled.

"So, you think she's out of my league?"

"No. I think she is Katrina's friend and Katrina sees right through both of us. Elsa might not have those interpersonal skills, but she's twice as lethal. Trust me on that; I've fought her."

"How tough was she?"

"Beat me black and blue then choked me out because I wouldn't surrender."

"Oh... I'd like to get her on the mats."

"Good luck with that then. Become a 'Runner' and there is even more I can tell you about her. Right now it is all simply in-house stuff."

"Corporate confidentiality details, eh? Executive Services purview and stuff like that. Man, I was wrong to look down on your branch of service. I apologize."

"Why thank you. I honestly never thought I'd get a sincere apology from you."

"I can be wrong once in your lifetime," Felix laughed, "and I'm man enough to admit it."

"Oh... and thanks for the sim-cards. They helped me get off that deserted atoll."

"No problem. That was Katrina's idea though."

"Well, you got them to us so surreptitiously the Chinese suspected nothing."

"Don't you mean those rogue Albanians?"

"Yeah... them too," I laughed along with him.

"I think we can be friends, Nyilas," he grinned.

"I think so too. I didn't think so originally. On the first day you and the others treated me like the country bumpkin, but now I think you see me as a survivor... just like you."

"Precisely. You know I had the option of leaving Havenstone... no matter how this affair turns out."

"And you didn't take it? Who offered you this opportunity anyway?"

"Katrina."

"It might have been a ruse," I warned him. "These bitches don't play fair."

"I took that into account... but I love the challenge of this place. It is like no other work environment on Earth. Challenges every day, hot women all around, and the chance to risk my life on a monthly basis. Screw regular corporate America. I've found the place where I belong."

Felix sounded so enthusiastic. I hoped he understood the fate he was embracing. I also hoped he found a niche in Havenstone which allowed him to live out his life... hopefully a long, long life. Maybe I should warn him about the 'cliffs'? Perhaps once we had won and were safely back in Havenstone's motherly embrace.

Hiding.

Fortune favored us backtracking from our seventh treasure trove; our dinner and more grain for the horses. A few birds flew up out of the brush ahead of us. I took that as a sign from Ishara.

"Felix," I hissed. "Hide!"

We looked around and found a draw away from the main canyon floor for us to slink into. I used some brush to cover our side tracks then ran back to cover.

No sooner had I gotten there than two Amazons came trotting past us. The lead one was Svetlana Inara and she was tracking us from the saddle. The second one was Beatrice Astarte who was scanning the environment as they moved together following our trail up this vein of the canyon. As soon as they were around the next corner of the vein, Felix and I mounted up and raced down the other way.

The sand floor covered our hoof-falls and we had to go that way anyway. We had barely covered the distance to the next draw when we spotted two more Amazons following our earlier trail this way. We had Two Amazon parties on our trail and it wasn't even Friday night yet! This group spotted us and gave chase. They must have ridden their horses hard to get this far because we quickly left them in our dust.

This allowed us to slow down a bit and deviate over to where the eight 'treasure' was. Our map had us going back down his particular draw which I thought was most unwise, so we went over the lip of the draw dismounted and led our horses at a rapid run; for us humans; across the greater landscape. Thank SzÃ©lAnya, a late afternoon rainstorm fell upon us as we dropped down into the next vein of the canyon before the pursuing Amazons crested the draw we had exited.

We walked through the rain until the sun set then debated what to do next. We were going to need light to figure out where the eighth treasure was at; they were all somewhat hidden. We had to keep moving no matter what because we doubted the Amazons on our asses were going to let up. We decided when we got close to the eighth treasure horde I would do the searching while Felix stood watch on the entrance to the draw.

Using a hatchet I cut off a branch from a bush and set it alight so I could see what I was doing. It took me twenty long minutes to figure out where the treasure was hidden... night-vision goggles and the map to the ninth map piece. Gleefully, I went back down to where Felix was except... no Felix. Oh Shit! I slipped back and put on my night-vision goggles, got a hatchet at the ready and returned, scanning about.

I spotted one Amazon... she was Carla Nemain... and I recalled her being teamed with Ella Mielikki. Anyway, I tried to sneak up on Carla and it almost worked. At the last moment the cloud cover cleared and the three-quarters Moon revealed me. She spun on me with twin fighting sticks while I tried to brain her with the flat side of my hatchet.

Yours truly took two punishing blows to his ribs while only clipping her with my hatchet. Still, the blow appeared to cause her to stumble so I pressed my advantage. I knocked one of her two sticks out of her hand then missed twice. I thought I heard someone coming up hard behind me. Well... fuck!

"What do you have?" Carla grumbled. "Are you trying to kill me?"

I kept silent, pulling out my second hatchet and pressing my luck a little further. I disarmed her and then hammered her down with a hatchet to the top of her skull. Down she went. I spun around just in time to see Ella Mielikki coming at me with a lasso. She launched it a second too late and I was ab

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 18

dawkinsblog@gmail.com (Daw Kins) — Tue, 18 Aug 2026 13:52:00 +0000

Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 18.

Can You Segue?

Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand.

Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

So exactly who was going to be sympathetic to their plight, who we cared about?

Beyond my fevered dream of making a difference there was a pinch of reality. See, the Cabindans and the people of Zaire were both ethnic Bakongo and the Bakongo of Zaire had also once had their own, independent (until 1914) kingdom which was now part of Angola. The Bakongo were major factions in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC)

(formerly for a short time known as the nation of Zaire, from here on out to be referred to as the DRC and in the running for the most fucked up place on the planet Earth, more on that later)

- and Congo (the nation) yet a minority in Angola. Having an independent nation united along ethnic and linguistic lines made sense and could expect support from their confederates across international boundaries.

The Liberation Air Force

The Earth and Sky operated under one constant dilemma; when would Temujin make his return? Since they didn't know and it was their job to be prepared for the eventuality if it happened tomorrow, or a century down the line, they 'stockpiled', and 'stockpiled' and 'stockpiled'.

That was why they maintained large horse herds and preserved the ancient arts of Asian bowyers, armoring and weapons-craft. That was why they created secret armories, and sulfur and saltpeter sites when musketry and cannons became the new ways of warfare. They secured sources of phosphates and petroleum when they became the new thing, and so on.

All of this boiled over to me being shown yet again I worked with clever, creative and under-handed people. The Khanate came up with a plan for a 'Union' Air Force {Union? More on that later} within 24 hours, and it barely touched any of their existing resources. How did they accomplish this miracle? They had stockpiled and maintained earlier generation aircraft because they didn't know when Temujin would make his re-appearance.

They'd also trained pilots and ground crews for those aircraft. As you might imagine, those people grew old just as their equipment did. In time, they went into the Earth and Sky's Inactive Reserves; the rank and file over the age of 45. You never were 'too old' to serve in some capacity though most combat-support related work ended at 67.

When Temujin made his return and the E and S transformed into the Khanate, those people went to work bringing their lovingly cared for, aging equipment up to combat-alert readiness. If the frontline units were decimated, they would have to serve, despite the grim odds of their survival. It was the terrible acceptance the Chinese would simply possess so much more war-making material than they did.

Well, the Khanate kicked the PRC's ass in a titanic ass-whooping no one (else) had seen coming, or would soon forget. Factory production and replacement of worn machines was in stride to have the Khanate's Air Force ready for the next round of warfare when the Cease-fire ended and the Reunification War resumed.

Always a lower priority, the Khanate military leadership was considering deactivating dozens of these reserve unit when suddenly the (Mongolian) Ikh khaany khairt akh dÃƒÂ¡ÃƒÂ© (me) had this hare-brained scheme about helping rebels in Africa, West Africa, along the Gulf of Guinea coast/Atlantic Ocean, far, far away, and it couldn't look like the Khanate was directly involved.

They barely knew where Angola was. They had to look up Cabinda to figure out precisely where that was. They brought in some of their 'reservist' air staff to this briefing and one of them, a woman (roughly a third of the E and S 'fighting'/non-frontline forces were female), knew what was going on. Why?

She had studied the combat records and performance of the types of aircraft she'd have to utilize... back in the 1980's and 90's and Angola had been a war zone rife with Soviet (aka Khanate) material back then. Since she was both on the ball, bright and knew the score, the War Council put her in overall command. She knew what was expected of her and off she went, new staff in hand. She was 64 years old, yet as ready and willing to serve as any 20 year old believer in the Cause.

Subtlety, scarcity and audacity were the watchwords of the day. The Khanate couldn't afford any of their front-line aircraft for this 'expedition'. They really couldn't afford any of their second-rate stuff either. Fortunately, they had some updated third-rate war-fighting gear still capable of putting up an impressive show in combat; providing they weren't going up against a top tier opponents.

For the 'volunteers' of the Union Air Force, this could very likely to be a one-way trip. They all needed crash courses (not a word any air force loves, I know) in Portuguese though hastily provided iPhones with 'apps' to act as translators were deemed to be an adequate stop-gap measure. Besides, they were advised to avoid getting captured at all cost. The E and S couldn't afford the exposure. Given the opportunity; this assignment really was going above and beyond; not one of these forty-six to sixty-seven year olds backed out.

No, they rolled out fifty of their antiquated aircraft, designs dating back to the 1950's through the mid-70's, and prepared them for the over 10,000 km journey to where they were 'needed most'. 118 pilots would go (72 active plus 46 replacements) along with 400 ground crew and an equally aged air defense battalion (so their air bases didn't get blown up). Security would be provided by 'outsiders'; allies already on the ground and whatever rebels could be scrounged up. After the initial insertion, the Indian Air Force would fly in supplies at night into the Cabinda City and Soyo Airports.

The composition,

14 Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21 jet fighters; though she entered service in 1959, these planes' electronics were late 20th century and she was a renowned dogfighter. 12 were the Mig-21-97 modernized variant and the other two were Mig-21 UM two-seater trainer variants which could double as reconnaissance fighters if needed.

14 Sukhoi Su-22 jet fighter-bombers; the original design, called the Su-17, came out in 1970, the first 12 were variants with the 22M4 upgrade were an early-80's package. The other 2 were Su-22U two-seat trainers which, like their Mig-21 comrades, doubled as reconnaissance fighters. The Su-22M4's would be doing the majority of the ground attack missions for the Cabindans, though they could defend themselves in aerial combat if necessary.

6 Sukhoi Su-24M2 supersonic attack aircraft; the first model rolled off the production lines in the Soviet Union back in 1974. By far the heaviest planes in the Cabindan Air Force, the Su-24M2's would act as their 'bomber force' as well as anti-ship deterrence.

8 Mil Mi-24 VM combat helicopters; introduced in 1972 was still a lethal combat machine today. Unlike the NATO helicopter force, the Mi-24's did double duty as both attack helicopter and assault transports at the same time.

4 Mil Mi-8 utility helicopters, first produced in 1967. Three would act as troop/cargo transports (Mi-8 TP) while the fourth was configured as a mobile hospital (the MI-17 1VA).

4 Antonov An-26 turboprop aircraft, two to be used as tactical transports to bring in supplies by day and two specializing in electronic intelligence aka listening to what the enemy was up to. Though it entered production in 1969, many still remained flying today.

2 Antonov An-71M AEW and C twin-jet engine aircraft. These were an old, abandoned Soviet design the Earth and Sky had continued working on primarily because the current (1970's) Russian Airborne Early Warning and Control bird had been both huge and rather ineffective; it couldn't easily identify low-flying planes in the ground clutter so it was mainly only good at sea. Since the E and S planned to mostly fight over the land,

They kept working on the An-71 which was basically 1977's popular An-72 with some pertinent design modifications (placing the engines below the wings instead of above them as on the -72 being a big one). To solve their radar problem, they stole some from the Swedish tech firm Ericsson, which hadn't been foreseen to be a problem before now.

See, the Russians in the post-Soviet era created a decent AEW and C craft the E and S gladly stole and copied the shit out of for their front line units and it was working quite nicely; the Beriev A-50, and wow, were the boys in the Kremlin pissed off about that these days. Whoops, or was that woot?

Now, the Khanate was shipping two An-71's down to Cabinda and somewhere along the line someone just might get a 'feel' for the style of radar and jamming the Cabindans were using aka the Swedish stuff in those An-71's. The Erieye radar system could pick out individual planes at 280 miles. The over-all system could track 60 targets and plot out 10 intercepts simultaneously. NATO, they were not, but in sub-Saharan Africa, there were none better.

Anyway, so why was any of this important?

Why the old folks with their ancient machines? As revealed, since the Earth and Sky had no idea when TemÃƒÂ¼jin would return, they were constantly squirreling away equipment. World War 2 gave them unequaled access to Soviet military technology and training.

Afterwards, under Josef Stalin's direction, thousands of Russian and German engineers and scientists were exiled to Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan who were then snatched up (reportedly died in the gulags/trying to escape) and the E and S began building mirror factories modeled on the 'then current' Soviet production lines.

So, by the early 1950's, the E and S was building, flying and maintaining Soviet-style Antonov, Beriev, Ilyushin, Myasishchev, Mikoyan-Gurevich, Sukhoi, Tupolev and Yakovlev airplanes. First in small numbers because their pool of pilots and specialists was so small.

The E and S remedied this by creating both their own 'private' flight academies and technical schools. They protected their activities with the judicious use of bribes (they were remarkably successful with their economic endeavors on both side of the Iron Curtain) and murders (including the use of the Ghost Tigers).

By 1960, the proto-Khanate had an air force. Through the next two decades they refined and altered their doctrine; moving away from the Soviet doctrine to a more pure combined-arms approach (the Soviets divided their air power into four separate arms; ADD (Long Range Aviation), FA (Front Aviation), MTA (Military Transport Aviation) and the V-PVO (Soviet Air Defenses; which controlled air interceptors).).

It wasn't until the collapse of the Soviet Union and the independence of the various former SSR's that the E and S program really began to hit its stride. Still, while Russia faltered, China's PLAAF (Peoples' Liberation Army Air Force) began to take off. Since the Chinese could produce so much more, the E and S felt it had to keep those older planes and crews up to combat readiness. The younger field crews and pilots flew the newer models as they rolled off the secret production lines.

Then the Unification War appeared suddenly, the E and S-turned Khanate Air Force skunked their PLAAF rivals due to two factors, a surprise attack on a strategic level and the fatal poisoning of their pilots and ground crews before they even got into the fight. For those Chinese craft not destroyed on the ground, the effects of Anthrax eroded their fighting edge. Comparable technology gave the Khanate their critical victory and Air Supremacy over the most important battlefields.

What did this meant for those out-of-date air crews and pilots who had been training to a razor's edge for a month now? Their assignment had been to face down the Russians if they invaded. They would take their planes up into the fight even though this most likely would mean their deaths, but they had to try.

When Operation Fun House put Russia in a position where she wasn't likely to jump on the Khanate, this mission's importance faded. The Russian Air Force was far more stretched than the Khanate's between her agitations in the Baltic and her commitments in the Manchurian, Ukrainian, Chechen and Georgian theaters.

With more new planes rolling off the production lines, these reservist units began dropping down the fuel priority list, which meant lowering their flight times thus readiness. Only my hare-brained scheme had short-circuited their timely retirement. Had I realized I was getting people's grandparents killed, I would have probably made the same call anyway. We needed them.

The Kanate

The Khanate's #1 air superiority dogfighter was the Mig-35F. The #2 was the Mig-29. No one was openly discussing the Khanate's super-stealthy "Su-50", if that was what it was, because its existence 'might' suggest the Khanate also stole technology from the Indian defense industry, along with their laundry list of thefts from South Korea, Japan, Taiwan, the PRC, Russia and half of NATO.

Her top multi-role fighters were the Su-47, Su-35S and Su-30SM. The Su-30 'Flanker-C/MK2/MKI were their 2nd team with plenty of 3rd team Su-27M's still flying combat missions as well.

Strike fighters? There weren't enough Su-34's to go around yet, so the Su-25MS remained the Khanate's dedicated Close Air Assault model.

Medium transport aircraft? The An-32RE and An-38. They had small, large and gargantuan transports as well.

Bombers? The rather ancient jet-powered Tu-160M2's and Tu-22M2's as well as the even older yet still worthwhile turboprops; from 1956's; the Tu-95M S16.

Helicopters? While they still flew updated variants of the Mil Mi-8/17 as military transports, the more optimized Kamov Ka-52 and Mil Mi-28 had replaced them in the assault role.

Bizarrely, the Khanate had overrun several Chinese production lines of the aircraft frames and components; enough to complete fairly modern PLAAF (Peoples Liberation Army Air Force) FC-1 and J-10 (both are small multi-role fighter remarkably similar to the US F-16 with the FC-1 being the more advanced model, using shared Chinese-Pakistani technology and was designed for export,).

They did have nearly two dozen to send, but they didn't have the pilots and ground crews trained to work with them, plus the FC-1 cost roughly $32 million which wasn't fundage any legitimate Cabindan rebels could get their hands on, much less $768 million (and that would just be for the planes, not the weeks' worth of fuel, parts and munitions necessary for what was forthcoming).

Meanwhile, except for the An-26, which you could get for under $700,000 and the An-71, which were only rendered valuable via 'black market tech', none of the turboprop and jet aircraft the Khanate was sending were what any sane military would normally want. The helicopters were expensive; the 'new' models Mi-24's cost $32 million while the Mi-17's set you back $17 million. The one's heading to Cabinda didn't look 'new'.

The Opposition:

In contrast, the Angolan Air Force appeared far larger and more modern. Appearances can be deceptive, and they were. Sure, the models of Russian and Soviet-made aircraft they had in their inventory had the higher numbers; the Su-25, -27 and -30; plus they had Mig-21bis's, Mig-23's and Su-22's, but things like training and up-keep didn't appear to be priorities for the Angolans.

When you took into account the rampant corruption infecting all levels of Angolan government, the conscript nature of their military, the weakness of their technical educational system, the complexity of any modern combat aircraft and the reality that poor sods forced into being Air Force ground crewmen hardly made the most inspired technicians, or most diligent care-takers of their 'valuable' stockpiles (which their officers all too often sold on the black market anyway), things didn't just look bleak for the Angolan Air Force, they were a tsunami of cumulative factors heading them for an epic disaster.

It wasn't only their enemies who derided their Air Force's lack of readiness. Their allies constantly scolded them about it too. Instead of trying to fix their current inventory, the Angolans kept shopping around for new stuff. Since 'new'-new aircraft was beyond what they wanted to spend (aka put too much of a dent in the money they were siphoning off to their private off-shore accounts), they bought 'used' gear from former Soviet states; Belarus, Russia and Ukraine; who sold them stuff they had left abandoned in revetments (open to the elements to slowly rot) on the cheap.

To add to the insanity, the Angolans failed to keep up their maintenance agreements so their newly fixed high-tech machines often either couldn't fly, or flew without critical systems, like radar, avionics and even radios. Maybe that wasn't for the worst because after spending millions on these occasionally-mobile paperweights, the Angolans bought the least technologically advanced missile, gun and rocket systems they could get to put on these flying misfortunes.

On the spread sheets, Angola had 18 Su-30K's, 18 Su-27, 12 Su-25's, 14 Su-22's, 22 Mig-23's, 23 Mig-21bis's and 6 Embraer EMB 314 Super Tucano (a turboprop aircraft tailor-made for counter-insurgency operations), 105 helicopters with some combative ability and 21 planes with some airlift capacity. That equated to 81 either air superiority, or multi-role jet fighters versus the 12 Union Air Force (actually the Bakongo Uni o de Cabinda e Zaire, For as Armadas de Liberta o, For a Area; Liberation Armed Forces, Air Force (BUCZ-FAL-FA) Mig-21-97's.

It would seem lopsided except for the thousands of hours of flight experience the 'Unionists' enjoyed over their Angolan rivals. You also needed to take into account the long training and fanatic dedication of their ground crews to their pilots and their craft. Then you needed to take into account every Unionist aircraft, while an older airframe design, had updated (usually to the year 2000) technology lovingly cared for, as if the survival of their People demanded it.

A second and even more critical factor was the element of surprise. At least the PRC and the PLAAF had contingencies for attacks from their neighbors in the forefront of their strategic planning. The Angolans? The only country with ANY air force in the vicinity was the Republic of South Africa (RSA) and they had ceased being a threat with the end of Apartheid and the rise of majority Black rule in that country nearly two decades earlier.

In the pre-dawn hours of 'Union Independence Day', the FAL-FA was going to smash every Angolan Air base and air defense facility within 375 miles of Cabinda (the city). Every three hours after that, they would be hitting another target within their designated 'Exclusion Zone'. Yes, this 'Exclusion Zone' included a 'tiny' bit of DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) territory. The DRC didn't have an air force to challenge them though, so,

Inside this 'Exclusion Zone', anything moving by sea, river, road, rail, or air without Unionist governmental approval was subject to attack, which would require neutral parties to acknowledge some semblance of a free and independent B U C Z. Worse for Angola, this 'Zone' included Angola's capital and its largest port, Luanda, plus four more of their ten largest urban centers. This could be an economic, military and humanitarian catastrophe if mishandled.

The Angolan Army did not have significant anti-aircraft assets. Why would they? Remember, no one around them had much of an air force to worry about. The FAL-FA in turn could hit military convoys with TV-guided munitions 'beyond line of sight', rendering what they did have useless. It got worse for the Army after dark. The FAL-FA could and would fly at night whereas the average Angolan formation had Zip-Zero-Nadda night fighting capacity.

Then geography added its own mountain of woes. As far as Cabinda was concerned, there was no direct land line to their border from Angola. Their coastal road only went as far as the port of Soyo where the Congo River hit the South Atlantic Ocean. Across that massive gap was the DRC where the road was not picked back up. Far up the coast was the DRC town of Muanda (with an airport) and though they did have a road which went north, it did not continue to the Cabindan border.

Nope. To get at Cabinda from the south meant a long, torturous travel through northeastern Angola, into the heart of the DRC then entailed hookin