SteamyStories

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:38:25 +0000

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 3

Rachel’s epic search for pleasure, while keeping her virginity.

Based on a post by LiminallySpaced. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Cam was all smiles when she arrived, effusive with compliments over how gorgeous he thought she looked. That helped clear the air, and the two fell right back into their conversation, picking up where they left off and talking into the night until the place closed down and they were forced to leave.

Any time in the future she thought back to that night, Rachel could never remember what they talked about on the walk back to her dorm, because though she listened and participated, her mind was elsewhere. Specifically it was on throwing out all her chaste intentions for the evening and becoming determined to get this boy's cock in her mouth. He was hot, he was a gentleman, and everything about him turned her on.

Reaching her building's entrance, she was about to invite him inside when he wished her goodnight. They made plans to hang out again soon, and he headed off. Rachel headed up to her room, confounded at how genuine he was, stripped off all her modest clothes, and fucked herself silly trying to sate the horniness that Cam had inflicted on her.

Their next date was equally as refreshing, and this time their evening ended with a kiss. A small taste at first, but soon the two felt their tongues intertwine, and their bodies heave and swell against each other's. Yet still, that's where the date would end, but before he left, they made plans once again. Plans for dinner; at Cam's.

This time there was no modesty to hide behind in the way she dressed. She wanted this boy and she wanted him bad. She made sure her best assets were on display, a lovely dress with a deep cut neckline that her ripe, full breasts were practically bursting out of. On her way to his place she was even a little nervous. It had been a while since she had been with anyone, but that wasn't it. It was something about him, he wasn't just another hook up, he was different.

Cam welcomed her at the door with his bright, perfect smile, and she almost jumped him the second she heard the latch click behind her. Somehow she held it together and made her way to the couch, where he had a bottle of wine waiting to share. They each had a glass, falling deep into conversation so easily, and when they were done, Rachel noticed that they had slowly and silently inched closer and closer as they talked. They were practically on top of each other now. Now the talking was done.

Cam brushed a strand of hair away from Rachel's face, and her whole body buzzed. She didn't want to be strong anymore but somehow she waited, somehow she let him make the first move. He licked his lips, leaned in, and kissed her softly. He held her close. She felt safe. She felt relaxed. There was no rush on either of their parts, and the two just kissed, enjoying each other's lips, listening to their soft coos and breaths that accentuated the gentle music playing in the background.

Rachel had never been kissed like this. Kissing was always just a precursor to what came next, but not here. Not with Cam. She could have stayed there forever in his lips, but still she put up no refute when she felt his hands start to spread over her body. Down her arms, across her hips, and then, then; she felt the sweet comfort of his strong hands on her breasts. Cam squeezed them gently, kneading them delicately through her dress. His hands felt incredible, but she needed more than a tease, and so it was Rachel who, through the electric sensations of his lips on hers, reached up and pulled down her top, exposing her fat, milky breast to him.

They groaned into each other's mouth when the skin of his hand touched the skin of her breast. He squeezed harder this time, with more purpose, and Rachel arched her back into him deeper. His finger danced around her diamond-hard nipple before gently tweaking it, then he squeezed again. Rachel lolled her head back in ecstasy, and Cam took the opportunity to kiss his way down her pale neck, over the flat of her chest. Rachel felt her breath involuntarily hold as he lifted her heavy tit, waiting in anticipation for his lips to taste her nipple. She felt the wetness of his tongue around the tip, then the full, soft suction of his mouth, and she almost screamed.

Sensations coursed through her as he sucked on her nipple, and then the feel of cool air. Then his lips on hers once again. He kissed her, deeply and sensually, gently petting and caressing her breast as he did so. Then the kissing stopped. Rachel opened her eyes dreamily and looked up at the gorgeous man she was coupled with. He was waiting for something, waiting for her, and so slowly, still lost in the sensation of his hand on her smooth, milky flesh, Rachel gripped at the length of her dress, pulling it upward as her thick, creamy thighs gently butterflied open.

Rachel smiled at him. He smiled back. Gravity took control of her breast, and Cam's hand slid down her torso. Her eyes shut as she felt his fingers dancing around her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to what they both wanted. When she was unable to take any more teasing he cupped his full, strong hand over her entire wet mound and just held it there. Rachel gasped. She clung to him as his hand pulsed slowly into her labia, the anticipation of receiving his fingers driving her wild. He pecked sweetly at her neck as he got a feel for her most intimate area. Then, the pressure released, and she felt only a single finger begin to glide, almost imperceptibly, over her soaked panties.

She had been here before, had men touch her before, but something wholly new occurred at that moment. He did something no one else had ever done, not even Tim: he asked her what she wanted.

"I want you to show me what you like," he whispered, practically staring into her soul, "I want you to show me how to please you."

Rachel absolutely melted. She pulled him close, kissing him deeply, the heat of passion practically overwhelming her. "Touch me. Please," she hissed. She felt the band of her panties stretch, felt his firm fingers pass through the ginger tuft of pubic hair. It felt like her entire being had opened up completely as the first finger of Cam's hand slipped easily inside her tight body.

Rachel obeyed his request, steering him in the right direction as he worked first one finger, then two inside of her steaming core. She was riding waves of pleasure, wondering if it could ever get better, when Cam slid down her body, and she felt his face press between her legs. His lips and tongue joined his fingers, and created a symphony of intense sensation.

Rachel felt the electricity building inside her, he was playing her body like a fine tuned instrument. Then something happened. She started to feel it. Her whole body was buzzing, her pussy was on fire. There was only one place to go, and she was almost there, He was getting her there.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" she started to chant as the feeling kept rising, the rhythmic thrusting of his thick fingers driving her to the edge while his tongue wrote poems on the tip of her clit. She had wanted this for so long, something other than dalliances with Tim, something real, something explicit, something climactic, and now, finally, after so many years, it was coming. She was cumming.

Cam held on for dear life and Rachel cried out in deep rapture as her body spasmed and shook with a deep orgasm. Finally, Finally, her body seemed to cry, racing white hot pleasure through her as she wriggled against her lover's face. It only lasted moments, but Rachel felt like it would never end. Cam rocked her back to earth, holding and stroking her as she came down from an unbelievable high.

When her breath finally calmed, Rachel took stock of what had just happened. For the first time in her life, a man other than Tim had made her cum. She was giddy with excitement, and no less ravenous for the man in question. Staring at him in awe for a moment, that big bright smile of his warming her with its light, her hand drifted down between his legs. He was hard. Extremely. Now it was her turn.

She sat upright, and immediately pulled the top of her dress down completely, bearing both of her huge, heaving breasts to Cam. She lurched toward him, and Cam met her, getting completely lost in the overwhelming flesh of her bosom. He squeezed and kissed, groped and sucked, and while he enjoyed himself, Rachel's hand worked open his pants and freed his painfully hard cock to the night. She sighed. She loved it already. It wasn't the biggest she'd ever had, but it didn't matter. It was perfect.

Rachel cooed and encouraged Cam's working of her tits as she began to explore his rigid length with her hand. She stroked generously, but this was only a warm up for what her true intentions were. When she couldn't stand the need any longer, when her mouth was watering with desire, she disengaged, slid down his body until she was on her knees on the floor between his legs. She smiled at him, she could have returned the favor and asked him what he liked, but she knew she didn't need to. Taking one last moment to appreciate the specimen before her, to feel the weight of his balls in her hand, Rachel licked her lips and leaned in, taking Cam's hard, thick cock into her mouth.

He felt so good between her lips, so hard, yet so soft. So alive. She penetrated her mouth with his length with pure joy, covering every inch of him with perfect pleasure. She wanted to give this man everything he deserved, everything she denied from so many others. Pushing forward she felt him pass the back of her tongue, and smirked in glee as a deep groan from him signaled his entry into her throat.

She wanted him deep, as deep as he could go, and she moaned in delight when she felt his pubic hair push into her nose. She worked him in and out in long, deep strokes, practically using her whole body to suck this boy's cock. It didn't take long before she started to see the signs, the staggered breath, the stiffening body, and it was then that she decided she wanted to do something for him that she had (almost) never done for anyone before.

"God Rachel," he hissed, "I'm; gonna cum!"

She slipped him out of her throat at the last moment, holding his head in her mouth. Her hand stroked his shaft firmly and with purpose, and her other hand kneaded his boiling balls. It was only a moment before she felt the fat head of his cock flare, and then twitch strongly against her as he began to fill her mouth with pulse after pulse of hot semen.

"Huh; oh my gawd," he wailed, cumming in Rachel's mouth. She never stopped, working him through the peak of his orgasm, then slowly caressing him as he came down. Once his spasming subsided, Rachel carefully slipped his swollen cock out of her mouth and looked up at him. Opening her mouth she tilted back so he could see the result of her handiwork, a pool of thick white coated her tongue. She wanted him to see it, to see His cum in Her mouth.

She closed her mouth, and with a twinkle in her eye, swallowed down the entire load.

"Damn, girl!" Cam said with a laugh. She started to laugh too, the wildness of what just happened catching up with her. Cam reached for her, the two of them sharing the laughter, and pulled her lips to his, kissing her deep. Kissing her. After he had just cum in her mouth. She didn't know why, but she found that incredibly sexy.

They held each other on the couch, basking in their newfound intimacy, just relaxing into each other's arms. As the night rolled on, Rachel had a horrible thought, that what just happened was only a fluke, so when they moved to Cam's bed, she made sure to try it again. This time both fully nude, able to feel everything.

It was no fluke.

Rachel giggled with glee after Cam gave her another orgasm. This was real. This was special. Drifting off to sleep after swallowing her second load of Cam's cum, Rachel was excited for the future. Excited for what their relationship might bring, and excited to do all manner of depraved things with Cam, all just short of full penetrative sex. If things went well though, she thought, hopefully that day would come.

Rachel and Cam stayed together all through the remainder of college, and then some, and Rachel was sure there were wedding bells in her future. Unfortunately though, as all good things must, eventually it had to end. Cam was being deployed, and they both decided the strain would be too much. And so at twenty four, Rachel found herself single for the first time in years, unmarried, and depressed. She was still a virgin though, she had never had the experience of totally sharing her body with Cam, a man she believed she loved, because they hadn't married. And that was good. Right?

For the next year, Rachel found herself swinging between self-imposed celibacy, and unsatisfying hook ups. That's why she found herself on her knees in the back of a minivan, sucking the cock of a guy she used to hook up with in high school. A guy who was now divorced, with two kids. She had hoped his time being married would have improved his skills, but after a not entirely unpleasant round of fingering and cunt licking, she tapped out, unfulfilled, and returned the favor, the way she always had.

"Don't cum in my mouth, okay?" she said, to an intoxicated grunt of agreement, then moments later popped his straining flesh out of her mouth to finish the job with her hand. She'd wipe his drizzle from her hands, they'd part ways with a promise to be in touch soon, and Rachel would end the night (this time in her own apartment) doing for herself what the guy she was with could not.

Masturbating always made her kind of melancholy though, as sure enough her thoughts would drift to Cam, and to all the things they had done together; all the ways they had made each other feel good. It was a vicious circle though, as this melancholy is what drove her to rekindle past hookups in an attempt to get Cam out of her mind, only to find herself thinking of him when she returned home unsatisfied, to finish herself off.

Of all the guys she had reconnected with, she ultimately knew what she was going to get (or not get, for that matter), yet it never stopped her from reaching out to them. All, that is, but one.

"Hey." The words sat silently in a void on her computer screen. She didn't know what to expect, or whether to expect anything at all, but nonetheless she put them out there. And waited.

This was stupid, she thought. It was a mistake. It had been years since they had talked. He probably had his own life now and didn't have time for a stroll down memory lane that wreaked of desperation and,

"Hey!" The tension in her body alleviated slightly as the words popped up. "Long time no talk! How've you been?" The tone was jovial and pleasant, as though he was actually excited to hear from her. She started to breathe again, and soon the two fell into a pleasant reminiscence. It was nice to talk to him again. It was nice to talk to Tim.

"I'm sorry I just sort of disappeared back then," she said after a moment of reflection. He was a good guy, and a good friend, as much as she tried to believe what they had was purely physical. "I kind of got; caught up with life, I guess."

"No, it's totally cool," he wrote back, "It happens to all of us." There was a pause, and then a question she hadn't been asked in a long time. "Truth or dare?"

A tingle ran through Rachel's body. She knew where that question could lead when coming from Tim. Wasn't that really why she messaged him in the first place, though? Why try to deny it?

"Truth," she finally responded

"What was his name?"

"What makes you think there was a guy involved?"

"Because I know the reason we kept in touch as long as we did, and when you disappeared, I had to assume it was for a specific reason."

"Oh yeah?" she typed back, annoyed at his accuracy. "And what reason is that?"

"You found someone else who could make you cum."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Tim :P" she said, as coy as ever. She never liked admitting when he was right, and Tim somehow was always right. She didn't even know what she was doing, or why she reached out to him.

"Hey, what's your weekend look like? You wanna come by my place Saturday night and we can; catch up?" Her answer to this question was as good as an answer to his previous one. She'd be telling him a lot by how she chose to answer. There wasn't really ever a choice though. He had made it easy for her, and she wrote back the only word she had ever considered:

"Sure."

"And so I've been a nurse for coming up on three years now," Rachel said, taking another sip of the very good wine Tim had brought out.

"That is so great, Rachel, I'm so happy for you!" She could tell by the tone of his voice he meant it. Tim wouldn't shine her on, he wasn't that kind of guy.

She had gotten to his place at 8, and was met with a big, enveloping hug when she entered. It was nice. His body felt nice against hers. Tim's place was modest, but it looked great. Somewhere along the line Tim apparently grew up, and got some great taste as well. Well, Tim always had great taste, she chuckled to herself. She was trying to tell herself that wasn't why she had come, but if she was already making jokes like that, even to herself, there wasn't much pretense getting in her way.

The atmosphere was cozy and cool, and any nervousness she had felt about rekindling whatever this was; was starting to dissipate. After a brief tour, the two old friends made their way to the couch, where wine and stories of what their lives had become were shared.

He looked good, she couldn't deny it. She had always found Tim cute, but a couple years of age and maturity really did him good. She liked to think he thought the same thing about her, she'd put on a couple pounds, but thankfully it all went to the right places, making her tits somehow even bigger than they had been when he'd last experienced them. She made sure to dress to accentuate those curves as well. She knew he liked them, and she wanted to show off what age and maturity had done for her, but not be too obvious about it. She chose a simple, black dress with a low, but not Too low, neckline that hugged her body delightfully. Her cleavage looked exquisite, and the knee high boots she chose to top it all off added a nice bit of style.

At this point in the night, she wasn't nervous anymore, she was anxious. She wanted him to touch her, she wanted to touch him. She wanted to know if his cock was as perfect as she remembered. But she would never make the first move, and he knew that. He was making her wait. Teasing her. She was once again annoyed at the hold he had over her, a hold that was making her excruciatingly horny.

The night continued, and as they finished their wine, there was a palpable shift in the air.

"How's your mom?" he asked, putting his wine glass down to focus on her.

"She's good," she answered shortly. There wasn't much less she wanted to think about at this moment than her mom;

"Do you still go to two churches?"

"Yes," she said, unconsciously rubbing her thighs together. She knew the implication of his question.

Tim smiled, and shifted toward her, and lowered his voice. "Are you still a virgin?" His hand fell gently to the creamy flesh exposed below her dress. She didn't stop him.

His eyes were locked on hers. She felt a tingle in her body as she answered, "Yes."

He smiled again. "But you've been busy, haven't you?" He began stroking her leg. It felt good. He felt good.

"Yes," she whispered. Tim leaned in close. Damnit, he even smelled good. There was now only an inch or so between them, but the tension inside her made the distance feel cavernous. He licked his lips, and then Rachel and Tim did something they had never done in all the time they spent hooking up: they kissed.

And boy, what a kiss. Rachel generally didn't want the guys she had hooked up with to kiss her, as kissing was somehow more intimate to her than the other activities they got up to, but here, with Tim, it felt natural. He was a great kisser, maybe she had been missing out. But she didn't need a kiss to know how good he was with his lips and tongue.

She was just starting to relax into their make out session when Tim

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:38:19 +0000

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 2

Rachel’s epic search for pleasure, while keeping her virginity.

Based on a post by LiminallySpaced. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Rachel stared at herself in her bathroom mirror before going across the street to meet him. She was playing coy, but was under no misconceptions about what she wanted. She looked at her body as she zipped her sweatshirt over her naked breasts. A lot had happened since that night in the tent after prom, she had learned a lot. She had learned what she wanted and couldn't have. She learned how to suck cock. She wondered if Tim had learned a lot too.

Walking over, she couldn't believe it, but she was nervous. Hooking up in a car was nothing new for her, she had done it plenty of times, but this was different, He was different. There was a new confidence there in Tim, and it excited her. The second his hands touched her body she shuddered and smiled, she knew right then that it was going to happen. That he could do it. Her body was on fire as he freed her big breasts to the night air. There Was something different about Tim, a new confidence that turned her on immensely. His hands worked their way into her shorts, sending electric shocks through her as strong fingers slipped between wet, waiting lips. She couldn't believe it, what was it about this guy? It had been almost a year of fooling around, a year of pleasuring men in hopes that they could return the favor, and here, in this car in this parking lot, the guy she knew from church, the guy whose cum grossed her out that night in the tent, broke Rachel's curse and made her cum in mere minutes.

A year of pent up frustration blasted through her body in wave after wave of pleasure. She moaned. She squealed. She almost laughed. When it was over, she sat there for a moment in shock, the chemicals racing through her still, making her feel slightly loopy. She couldn't believe it, Tim from church was the only guy who could make her cum. Tim with the great cock. Cum drunk and horny still, it was Rachel's turn to show Tim what she had learned. She remembered his cock, his fantastic cock, and she had spent many nights hoping she'd get another shot at it. That night was the night, and after freeing her prize from his pants, she gladly took him into her mouth and gave him a world class blowjob. She was happy to do it. She was eager to do it. For the first time in her life she realized she wasn't just sucking cock, she was pleasuring him.

She gave him everything she had, he deserved it. He gave her something no other man to that point had. And when the time came, when she felt his balls tense up and his shaft grow oh so hard between her lips, she gave him something no other man had ever had either, she kept sucking, and kept stroking, and for the first time in her life, Rachel welcomed the ejaculation of her lover into her mouth. Tim's cum wasn't gross to her anymore, it was wonderful. It slipped across her tongue, pooling between her lips, and when she felt her limit being reached she did another thing she had never done for anyone else: she swallowed.

She told herself, told him, that it was a one-time thing, that they weren't going to get together again, but even before the words left her lips she knew it was a lie. She'd try to get that same feeling with other guys that summer, but no one could do it like Tim, and soon their trysts became a regular thing. Rachel would have a disappointing date, and then Tim would be there to give her what she needed. She was more than happy to return the favor as well. She sucked his cock, he'd cum in her mouth, and she'd swallow it down with gusto.

She continued seeing other guys that summer, though, as she didn't want to admit that there was something special about Tim; didn't want to admit she was becoming addicted to his cock as much as his tongue and fingers. She'd see her usuals, and make sure they went home happy, but it wasn't much more than transactional. All her rules still applied, she was happy to stroke them, happy to suck them, but that's where it would end. No matter how worked up they might be, when the guy started to groan, that last road to release was traveled in her hands, pointed well away from her person. With Tim though, she was totally uninhibited. She wanted to taste him, to feel him, she wanted her boundaries to be pushed and pressed, and Tim knew it. Maybe it was because Time knew the double life she was leading, the never ending tension between being prim and proper and hot and horny, whatever it was, it was intoxicating, and Tim and his perfect cock were the drug. She let him do whatever he wanted, and she would blush repeatedly remembering things the next day, in disbelief that she'd let him use her body the way he had, and what's' more, she liked it.

But why? Cum was weird and gross, why did she tingle with excitement every time she came in contact with his? It might have been because despite doing things with Tim she had only seen in the dirtiest of movies, he was always a perfect gentleman; he'd always ask when the time came. "Can I cum in your mouth?" he'd ask, teetering on the brink, and Rachel would moan in approval, excitedly accepting the warm explosion between her lips. "Can I cum on your tits?" He'd say through passionate grunts and grimaces. Without hesitation she'd say yes and present her spectacular globes for sticky tribute. "Can I cum on your face?" He'd grunt, overwhelmed with animalistic need, this was the only one that gave her pause the first time. She had never let any man's cum get even close to her face, but something about Tim's absolute animalistic need made her say yes. It was filthy, it was exhilarating, and after that first time she never even thought about saying no. He's such a hot, dirty gentleman, she'd think as she tipped her head back just before he spilled himself onto her soft skin.

She'd repeatedly wonder about that period of one's life, when the hormones and the drive for sex really kicks in, turning you into an insatiable pleasure monster, and whether all the dirty things she did were things she'd have done anyway, or if it was all a result of trying her best to avoid doing what she really wanted to do, what her body really wanted to do. Did she truly enjoy sucking cock? Or was it just the best she could do to take the place of having that hard cock push deep into her body and fuck her brains out?

Regardless of the unknowable answers to these questions, it didn't stop her from enjoying herself that summer right up to that sacred line she wouldn't cross, sometimes with others, but more often with Tim. As the days wore down, Rachel tried to play it cool, but the truth was she was not looking forward to going back to school, far away from the one guy that could get her off. The days began to cool though, and soon they parted.

Rachel tried to throw herself back into the world of real men, real men who potentially could get her off, but it just wasn't happening, and so for a while she and Tim kept up their online flirtations, each using the other to add some spice to their masturbation sessions. She even tried to think of the times with Tim when she'd find herself with a real man between her legs, but to no avail. She'd get close, oh so close, -her body would begin that glorious tingle, but it would never get beyond that. Not even thinking about all the hot, dirty things she and Tim had done that past summer.

This meant that though she got to have her fun and play with some lovely hard cocks, none of them got what Tim got. None of them got to fuck her tits, or cum on her, or cum in her mouth. None of them got more than they needed. Well almost none of them.

Rachel was at a party being thrown at the apartment of one of her regular hook ups, a classmate named James. She had gone there fully prepared to spend the night, as, despite never getting her off, she had to admit James was good with his fingers and tongue, and had a very nice cock that she honestly loved sucking on. She was excited, as it had been a few weeks since she had gotten any, and they knew each other enough that it was a guaranteed good time, if ultimately not quite totally satisfying.

The party was a great time. Rachel was delightfully looking forward to her own personal after party, when suddenly all thought left her mind and she stopped cold in her tracks. Her eyes had spotted a familiar face across the room, it was Bill. She felt her stomach drop and her nipples tighten, he looked good. Real good.

Rachel floated across the room, coasting on a combination of nostalgic lust and alcoholic buzz, and the two began talking. They had picked up where they had left off, and it was clear to her by the way he couldn't stop stealing glances at her considerable cleavage that he was thinking the same thing she was, but still there was something different, something slightly off. It all became clear when she met the girl he was with.

Bill seemed slightly embarrassed, as was Rachel, but they played it off the best they could as the three of them talked. Rachel learned they had met at work, and had been together for a couple months. Anything after that fell on deaf ears though, as Rachel couldn't stop picturing the two of them together. They looked good together, and she could tell by the way the girl clung to Bill that clearly she was familiar with "what he had to offer." She smiled through the rest of the conversation, but all that was in her mind was what the two lovers did in bed. Did he make her cum? She bet he did. She bet this girl didn't have the hang up Rachel did. Did she suck his cock like Rachel did? Could she take all his impressive size into her throat like Rachel did? Did she swallow his cum? Rachel bet she did. Did he fuck her? Did her petite body take that thick, wonderful cock inside her? Rachel bet she did. It was this last thought that made her tingle with excitement. She bet he looked amazing fucking her. And she bet the girl loved it.

Bill and his date excused themselves, as they had other places to be, and Rachel tried to keep the thoughts out of her mind and enjoy the rest of the party. As people began to leave and the crowd thinned out, she and James started making eyes at each other, and when the first opportunity presented itself to do so the two stole away to James' room and locked the door.

Clothes were discarded quickly, and it was only mere moments before Rachel felt warm, wet lips clamp around her nipple and begin to suck generously. James loved her tits, and she loved that he loved them. He was good with his mouth and his hands. He'd soon continue this exhibition lower on her body, and she was more than ready for him. Rachel was soaking wet, and felt his fingers easily slide inside her. When his tongue hit her clit in unison, she moaned as electric shocks of pleasure burst through her. He was good, great almost, but even then, as worked up as she was, she couldn't quite get over that final hump.

Giving the poor boy a break she quickly thanked him by returning the favor. He was nice and hard, and his length slipped swiftly between her lips and into her wet, waiting mouth. James was nice, his cock was nicer, but as soon as the firm flesh penetrated her mouth, her thoughts went to Bill. And as her thoughts turned to Bill, her hand snaked down between her legs. She remembered Bill's big, beautiful cock, and how much she loved sucking it, and felt the rush of pleasure course through her as she touched herself. She loved teasing him with her tongue and sucking on the head as she stroked. She loved the way he twitched in her mouth when she'd hit the right spots. She loved the way she felt stuffed and full as he passed the back of her tongue and slipped down into the tightness of her throat. In and out, in and out of her throat while she held him firm and worked his balls, worked them so well that it was hard for him not to,

"Ugh" she moaned through the meat of the cock in her mouth as her pussy spasmed and she started to cum. The sounds of her pleasure vibrated through the hard meat in her mouth, and then gasps and moans from James melded in the air with hers. James' cock was tucked into her throat and beginning to spasm. Oh no, she thought, he's cumming! She pulled him out of her throat, but caught up in the suddenness of the moment, Rachel kept the boy's spasming member in her mouth as he filled it with a generous amount of hot cum. The moment being what it was, she didn't have much choice but to swallow, so swallow she did.

"Holy shit," James gasped as the intensity of his orgasm waned, "holy shit, that was amazing! You've never done That before!"

"Well," she said, searching for a response, slightly embarrassed, "I guess you just brought it out of me tonight!" She chuckled nervously, wiping a stray bit of cum from her lips. She had James' cock back in her mouth the next morning, as he clearly was hoping for a replay of the night before, but although his balls were drained when she left, this time not a drop of it made it to her mouth. She had broken her own rule and had no intention of doing it again, but didn't feel too bad about it, he hadn't made her cum, but he definitely Helped her cum, and so for that one time she decided he deserved it.

James started blowing up her phone every chance he got, of course he did after That performance, but Rachel wasn't interested anymore. In fact, for the next while she wasn't interested in anyone. She had her eyes set on what she really wanted, she wanted Bill.

But she had no idea how to get him back.

"So this was a guy you used to hook up with?"

"Yeah; we were pretty hot and heavy for a while," Rachel typed into the messenger box. Rachel and Tim might have been far away from each other, but they were still friends, and they still talked. She found it was easier to talk to him about personal stuff, maybe because of their history, maybe because of the distance. And besides, there were definitely still nights where talking to Tim came in handy. Nights like tonight. "He's the one who taught me how to deepthroat."

"I see," he wrote back. She felt herself blush. She would never tell him what she wanted, but she knew he could never resist the bait when she laid it out. "He taught you to do it; but I taught you to like it? ;)"

Bingo.

"Stop" she wrote, feigning annoyance on the screen while her insides started to heat and boil in real life. The truth was, she missed Tim. Missed hooking up with him. He was a great guy with a great cock, and most importantly;

"Did he ever make you cum?"

"You know he didn't :P" Gush.

"Did he ever cum in your mouth?"

"You know he didn't." Double gush.

"Why not?"

"You know why," she said, her fingers dipping down into her panties.

"It's been a while," he typed, "remind me. :)" She shook her head, she could feel his smug smile radiating off the monitor. He knew he had her on the hook, and from how wet she was, and the buzzing pleasure she was triggering with her fingers, she couldn't deny it.

"Because the only person who gets to cum in my mouth is you," she typed with one hand while stroking her slick lower lips, it's true it was a little white lie after that night with James, but the lie was much hotter than the truth. "Brat," she fired back for good measure. She hated how horny he got her sometimes.

"Oh right," he wrote back in mock ignorance. She waited anxiously for what was going to come next, strumming herself slowly so she wouldn't get too far too fast. She waited on edge, but nothing came. Maybe he wasn't into it tonight, she wondered, maybe he,

"Do you remember that carwash we had over the summer with the church youth group?" A shiver went down her spine. She remembered it very well.

"Yeah, that was fun," she said, trying to appear as un-horny as possible.

"Do you remember what happened when it was over?"

"I do," she said, another shiver running through her.

"My mind is just a blank," he said, that smug radiation returning, "remind me."

"You and I stayed late to put everything away in the shed behind the church," she began. It was an innocent enough sentence, but it obscured the sense memories she had of that day. They hadn't planned to get frisky, but that didn't stop Rachel from picking a bright, revealing bikini top to wear beneath her pale t-shirt. The shirt wasn't white, but she knew once it got wet, it was going to get nice and clingy to her magnificent breasts, illuminating the bikini underneath. She knew he'd be watching.

"And what happened when we got into the shed?" The question made Rachel's eyes involuntarily close, and a slight moan escape as she conjured up the memory. They had been teasing each other all day, and then, away from prying, religious eyes, up against a stack of chairs, their bodies collided.

"You put your hands down the front of my tiny jean shorts; and put your fingers inside me." She mirrored the memory with her fingers. She was wet and tight.

"Did you like it?"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, I can't remember :)" He was such an asshole.

"Yes Tim," she typed with annoyance, despite how flushed and soaked and buzzing she was, "I liked it."

"Well that's good," he wrote. It was, she thought, it was really good. She didn't know if it was the situation, being so close to so many people who could catch them, or if he had just gotten that good at pleasing her, but she was absolutely on fire that day. His fingers were magic, and he sent her wanton body into overdrive, plunging inside her and gyrating over her throbbing clit. "I seem to remember you asking me something while I was doing that, didn't you?"

Rachel felt her face flush and her pussy gush. Whatever it was about Tim, she was comfortable enough with him to really let loose what she kept hidden behind her good girl demeanor, what she would call her inner slut. She wanted him to do things to her she'd never want another man to, and sometimes she'd ask for them, too. "Yes."

"What was it?"

She felt a chill run through her. "I asked you to talk dirty to me." It might have seemed like a fairly innocent request to most others, but for her it was a huge step.

"Did I?" Oh, boy did he;

"Yes."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes."

"What did I say?"

Rachel tensed up. There was no way she was going to repeat anything he said to her. "I don't remember.?"

"No?"

"No."

"Too bad."

She knew Tim knew she was lying, but he didn't push it, he knew that was the quickest way to these little sessions they had being shut down. Truth was, though, she remembered it alright, she remembered every word, she thought about it frequently when she touched herself.

He talked about how tight her cunt was, how wet she was for him, how she was such an unrepentant slut for his cock. It was intense, but it turned her on so much because it was true, at least it was how she thought about herself. He talked about her huge tits, how much he loved putting his cock between them, talked about her mouth and her throat, how they were so good to his cock, so wet, so hungry for him. He talked about how pretty she was, and how she looked even prettier covered in his cum; about how he knew she loved to be covered in his thick load. She shook almost uncontrollably as he continued on, teasing her about being caught by someone from their church, someone she would know who would see her being a slut for him.

As she careened toward orgasm, that's when Tim brought out the kill shot, the thing he knew got her the hottest and wettest, testing her, teasing her, trying to get her to admit that what she really wanted was his cock deep inside her, fucking her good, making her cum, pushing the bounds of her commitment for "purity." So far she hadn't broken, but it was getting harder and harder. And so was Tim.

Lost in sensation, Rachel's hand drifted to Tim's swim trunks, gripping his sturdy pole. She knew she didn't love Tim, but boy, did she love Tim's cock. She'd never admit it, but it was true, she Did want that cock inside her. She Did want him to fuck her. She'd imagined how good it must feel many times as she touched herself, but she could never let him do it. Good girls don't do that. Do they? That thought was

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:38:14 +0000

Rachel’s Virginity Preservation: Part 1

Rachel’s epic search for pleasure, while keeping her virginity.

Based on a post by LiminallySpaced. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Forward: This is a story featuring Rachel from the explicit novel, “Sex Ed. Lessons”. meant to flesh out her side of the journey. While it would definitely make things richer if you've read that series, this is written to stand on its own. And if you have read that series, and you notice that some small details don't exactly line up with the events of ‘Sex Ed Lessons’, don't worry about it.

"Do Not cum in my mouth, okay?" a grunt of intoxicated agreement was cast down, and Rachel dipped back down to take the hard, glistening cock before her, back into her mouth. Rachel was worried, though. Not worried about whether he'd forget what he agreed to, It didn't matter, because she could always tell right before they were going to burst, she was worried that she was 25, single, and a virgin. She was worried because all of these things were based in the same concern, i.e. that she wasn't yet married. Growing up in a conservative, Christian household (one so involved that her family actually went to Two churches), being married was very important, and the key to unlocking the next era of her life. It meant she'd be in a secure relationship with someone she loved. It meant that she could start thinking about starting a family of her own. But most importantly, although she'd never admit it, being married meant she could finally fuck.

In all outward appearances, Rachel was the definition of the good Christian girl, or at least that's what she worked very hard to make her family and fellow church goers believe. In reality though, it's not that she was "bad," but she definitely pushed the boundaries of what might be deemed acceptable to her religious and social circles, especially when it came to sex. She was still a woman, still had needs, and did everything she could to satisfy them, as long as it was within the boundaries of "no premarital sex." Or at least within the boundaries as she interpreted them.

Sex was never talked about in her household, and if the topic ever snuck its way in, there were only negative feelings expressed. Her mother always looked down on unwed mothers, or women who lived with their significant others out of wedlock. Most impactful, though was the way she spoke about her ex-husband, Rachel's father. Her father had cheated on her mother, and Rachel knew what that meant, he was having sex with another woman. It was wrong. It was immoral. And so that's how Rachel began to think about sex, as something bad and immoral. But if that was the case, why was she so interested in it? Why did the thought send such a jolt of excitement through her body?

This moral and personal confusion got even more complicated when she touched herself for the first time on her 18th birthday. There had been a boy at her party that made her belly flutter, and later that night, her hand drifted down to the source of that heat and excitement. After the rush of guilt she felt after that first glorious orgasm, she decided, well, That wasn't Sex. That didn't Count. That was something she could do again, and boy, did she want to. It was her little secret, something she did discreetly, behind the backs of her family and friends, and the clandestine nature of it made it all the more exciting.

First it was just the sensations of her body, touching, exploring, that was enough, but soon other things started creeping into her mind's eye as she pleasured herself. It wasn't just her touching herself, it was dreams and fantasies of being touched by others. By men.

Rachel's interest in sex developed as quickly as her body did. By 18 she had grown into quite a striking young woman. Tall, with long red hair, she wasn't skinny by any means, but she was an athlete, so she became a wonderful series of curves that began to bring her a lot of attention. She quickly realized that the main focus of this attention from the opposite sex, men and boys alike, were her impressive, 38G breasts. She knew they were staring, she knew they liked them, and pretty soon she began to realize the power she had over men. She'd never, ever admit it, but she liked it. It turned her on to think of boys at her school sneaking peeks down her shirt, or certain dads at her church who couldn't help but get lost in her cleavage. The thoughts would harden her nipples, making them so sensitive, and she'd squeeze and knead the big, hot flesh deliciously on her path to self-gratification.

It was around this time, amidst this new era of exploration, when Rachel discovered porn, another thing her mother had demonized, another thing she knew she would be chastised for enjoying. Yet it was another thing she'd never ever admit she enjoyed, another thing whose secrecy and taboo made it extra hot to her. It began out of a combination of hormones and pure curiosity. As men became interested in her, she became more and more interested in them, in what they wanted and what they offered.

She couldn't take her eyes off the screen that first time. Tense with excitement and the fear of being found out, she trembled as the two lovers began kissing and caressing. She practically held her breath once they started to remove their clothes. She had never seen muscles like the rippling row of glistening power the man had beneath his shirt, and her body tingled as the woman's hands and lips cascaded over them. She could feel her nipples getting hard beneath her clothes, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She was alone, the house was empty, and still the feeling of doing something wrong held her in its grip. It gripped and excited her all the same.

Entranced by the passion on display, Rachel realized she audibly gasped when the man on the screen tore open the woman's shirt with one forceful movement. The woman wasn't wearing a bra, and the click-clacking of exploding buttons heralded the reveal of two considerable breasts. They were full and beautiful, but Rachel knew hers were much bigger. Still, she couldn't take her eyes off them, especially when the man took them into his strong hands. The woman sighed in pleasure. Rachel was transfixed, no man had ever touched her like that, and now the desire to change that was firmly rooted in her mind. Then came the lips.

When the man on the screen took his partner's nipple into his mouth, Rachel felt a buzz as if it were her nipple he was sucking. Transfixed as she was, she barely registered her hands moving up to her breasts and beginning to knead them through the thin fabric of the t-shirt she was wearing. It was electric, and it was the hottest thing Rachel had ever seen, at least until the man began to kiss his way down her body. He removed the rest of her clothes in a whirlwind, and soon his face landed between her taut legs.

Rachel gasped, and as she watched this man pleasure the woman with his mouth, her hands drifted down into the front of her shorts. She was soaking wet, and buzzing. Her fingers slipped between her flushed lips, and her body erupted in sensation. Pretty soon she was lost in the feeling of her own body, eyes closed dreamily, caught in the soft clouds of moaning coming from her computer screen. The tension inside her was rising, careening toward a boiling point, and when her eyes opened, a shudder ran through her. The couple on the screen had shifted, and now the woman was on her knees in front of her lover, looking longingly up at him as her fingers danced around the length of a very large, very strong-looking, Very hard cock.

Rachel couldn't look away. She had never seen a penis in her life, and here, on the screen before here, was quite a specimen. She was taken aback by the size, but even more so the passion and excitement with which the woman was touching it. Her hands ran up and down its thick length, making it flare even more with each downward stroke, eliciting deep moans of pleasure from them both. Rachel was practically writhing in her seat, lingering so close to the edge, entranced by the woman working the thick cock. Then the woman leaned forward and took the fat head into her mouth.

Rachel moaned loudly, clamping a hand hard over her mouth in embarrassment. Still, she couldn't take her eyes on the forbidden expression of passion she was watching. She hadn't even considered putting her mouth on a penis, as an option. And now here she was watching it being done, and finding it highly erotic and sexy. When they changed positions again, and Rachel saw the ecstasy on the woman's face as the man slid himself inside her cunt, it was all she could take. Her eyes clamped shut suddenly, she bit down on her finger to try and keep quiet, and her body exploded in orgasm.

Coming down, she watched the two in a languid, post-orgasmic daze. The way their bodies moved together was intoxicating, and elicited a deep want and jealousy inside Rachel. She wished it was her getting to experience that thick, fabulous cock. She was lost in the moment when suddenly the man's breath began to shorten and wheeze, and he backed off enough so that his partner could quickly drop to her knees in front of him once again. The camera pushed in close on just the straining tip and the woman's sliding, stroking hands, and with a final, loud howl, the man shuddered, and thick white ropes began leaping and pulsing out of the tip of his cock and splash across the woman's face and into her open mouth.

Rachel wasn't expecting this. She hadn't even considered it. She stared for a moment, then quickly shut the video off, sitting for a moment with what she just witnessed. It was jarring, it was disgusting and dirty, but at the same time; she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Putting the ending out of her mind, she reveled wistfully in the experience of watching the two lovers. But porn was bad, wasn't it? She had been told her whole life to watch out for it, to avoid it. But it was just the one time, out of curiosity, she didn't "watch porn," that wouldn't be right. And so she told herself that would be the only time, and it was. At least until the next time. And the time after that. And the time after that.

Rachel had been developing strong desires, desires that she was trying to control, but sometimes would find their way to the surface. One such instance happened during an all-night youth group event where all the teenagers locked themselves inside the church to watch movies and play board games all night. Rachel had had a long standing crush on this one fellow member named Devon, and seeing as they both were graduating high school soon, that night would might be the last time they'd realistically see each other. So, deep in the early morning hours, Rachel and Devon found themselves hidden away from the tired eyes of the other teens, and there, in the dark corner of the church stairwell, Rachel had her first kiss. It was nice. It was clumsy, but Rachel didn't care. To her it was electricity coursing through her body. She was excited. She was giddy. She was more turned on than she'd ever been in her life.

Breaking from the kiss, Rachel took a moment to compose herself. When she refocused her attention on Devon, she realized he was looking down at her chest. As it was a sleepover, Rachel had on a long sleeping shirt, one which had pulled tight against her mammoth chest thanks to the position they shared on the stairs. She looked down and saw what the young boy was transfixed on: her nipples were like two tiny diamonds atop her impressive globes, pushing hard and prominent against the thin fabric that covered them.

Rachel smiled. Her brain was awash with pleasure chemicals, hormones dialed to eleven for this first romantic experience, and before she knew what she was saying, the words tumbled out of her mouth. "You can touch them if you want."

Caught completely off guard at being caught in his ogling, Devon sputtered, coughed, and quickly exited the scenario and the stairwell, leaving Rachel alone, aroused, and embarrassed.

Making her way back to the group, it wasn't long before the first of the others snuck over to her and gleefully whispered, "You and Devon kissed?" Still raw from the embarrassment, Rachel denied it, saying she would never do something like that. And from that point on, as far as any of them knew, she kept true to her word.

But luckily for Rachel and her hormones, her church life and her high school life were two completely different worlds, with absolutely zero overlap. At church she was the perfect princess, living her life as pure and as chaste as possible, under the watchful eye of her mother and God, but at school she could be whoever she wanted. At school she had options.

Her first opportunity for something real came at a party at a friend's house. The friend's cousin was in town, and Rachel thought he was exceptionally cute. Lying to her mother about where she was going, Rachel was excited as she dressed, taking care to purposefully show off her deep cleavage and considerable assets for the first time in her life. She looked good, she knew it, and when she got to the party, her suspicions were confirmed. All eyes were on her as she walked in, and the boys all flocked to her side shortly thereafter.

It didn't take her long to get what she was after, and soon enough she found herself in a quiet bedroom with her friend's cousin, making out. It was a breathy, zesty affair that started out innocently enough, with touching in very chaste places. But when the boy decided to test his limits and made the first move to touch her breasts, Rachel felt her whole body flush. For the first time a man was touching her enormous breasts, and it felt absolutely wonderful. She wanted more.

"Do you want to see them?" she said breathlessly. All the boy could do was nod. Rachel had picked a top that showed a lot of cleavage, but that didn't translate into the easiest removal, and after some pulling and shuffling she finally spilled out over the top and into the cool night air. She made a mental note to remember something easier access for the next time.

The boy's eyes were as wide as saucers, and before she could even give him the go ahead, his hands were on them again, kneading and squeezing. Rachel lost her breath at the sudden explosion of feeling, and her eyes closed as she lost herself in the sensations. The boy's lips cascaded over her neck as he worked her big, sensitive tits, and Rachel's hands slipped down over his body, taking in the feeling of her first man. He was tight, powerful, and vigorous. Her hand stopped suddenly when it made its way between his legs, and underneath the fabric of his jeans she felt, for the very first time, what she immediately recognized as his cock. His Hard cock.

To say she was excited would be an understatement, and she could barely control herself. She squeezed and rubbed the hard rod beneath the boy's pants, doing everything she could to get a sense of its size. Between the hands squeezing her breasts, and her hands squeezing his cock, Rachel was totally lost in the moment, so much that she didn't even register when his body stiffened and he pulled her tight to him. She heard him groan and gasp against the flesh of her chest, and then immediately she knew what had happened. He had cum in his pants.

There was a moment of silent recognition, and then suddenly the boy was off of her. Some awkward words passed between them, and just as quickly he was gone from the room leaving Rachel alone, breasts still out, horny and unsatisfied. She'd take care of herself later that night, thinking about nothing but the feel of the hard cock that had been in her hand.

Her next opportunity would come a couple weeks later at another party, this time with a kid from her physics class. Rachel had quite a crush, and had many times thought about him while she touched herself. They had never really spoken, but that night at the party, with alcohol enough for all and her tits on display once again, she found her courage and soon the two ended up alone. This time, when she felt what was between the boy's legs, she quickly made her way into his pants - she was desperate to avoid the disaster of the last time. The boy didn't stop her, and soon Rachel's eyes were transfixed to the fleshy tower sticking out from the folds of fabric, she was finally face to face with her first cock.

She was excited, she was nervous, but most of all she couldn't wait to get her hands on it, just like the woman in the video. It wasn't nearly as impressive as the cock in the videos, but it was a cock, and she was going to touch it. Once her fingers found their way to the hot skin, she began to slowly stroke, doing her best to find her way down this untraveled path. The boy moaned, indicating she was doing things right. It was a delicious feeling.

Rachel's body was buzzing as she played with the boy's cock. Her nipples were like ice, her pussy was drenched, and her focus was so fully turned to the stiff, fleshy member in her hands that she didn't even realize she began to rhythmically squeeze her own thighs together. Each squeeze gently stimulated her throbbing clit, and sent small bolts of pleasure rushing through her. She was feeling good, she was feeling sexy, and so it was quite a surprise when she finally looked back up at the boy and realized he had completely fallen asleep.

Frustrated and disappointed once again, Rachel sighed, did up the boy's pants, and went back to the party, letting him sleep it off. Her mood definitely soured a bit for the rest of the evening, but that didn't stop her from bringing herself to a raucous climax when she got home, images and sensations of that hard cock in her hands racing through her mind as she came.

So far high school boys had been a big bust, and her senior prom was fast approaching. She needed a date who was a sure thing, but she wasn't certain she trusted anyone enough to really let loose with. Then she remembered Tim. Tim was a friend of hers from the youth group at the Other church she went to, and even though it would be breaking the rule she had made, taking a boy from church to the prom would quell any suspicions from her mother, what could possibly happen if her daughter's date was a nice boy from church?

Well, her mother might be a little more hesitant if she had seen what kind of conversations Tim and Rachel had at night over the internet. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't go to that church all the time, thus she didn't see him all the time, or maybe it had something to do with the backrub he gave her that time on the church camping trip. Tim was cute, to be sure, and the backrubs he gave were excellent. They became a repeat occurrence, when the opportunity presented itself, but that camping trip had been special. There at night, near a dying fire, they got very comfortable with each other. She leaned close into his body as he touched her, beginning to wonder what it would feel like if he touched her in other places. She didn't even realize she had let out a small moan. They were isolated, both clearly turned on, and so Rachel leaned into it. She touched his thigh, and arched her back into the boy, sending her considerable breasts up into the night air.

This proved to be too much for Tim, and as he tensed up, grunted, and then quickly removed himself from the situation and said goodnight, she knew exactly what had happened. He had cum in his pants. She wasn't sure how to interpret that at first, but back in her tent, lying quietly next to her sleeping tent-mate, she thought about it. Despite the embarrassment on his end, to her, the fact that her body made him cum in his pants was quite the compliment. And the whole incident had made her extremely wet. Her fingers slipped slowly into her shorts as she relived the event in her mind, and there in the quiet of the night she silently worked herself to a breathless orgasm.

Since that night she and Tim remained in a flirty-yet-chaste relationship, but she knew to get what she wanted she was going to need to step it up to the next level. Looking at herself in the mirror, she took stock of her body. She knew how impressive her breasts were, they were bigger than any other woman she had ever seen. Even bigger than a lot of the women she had seen in porn, too. She also knew what men wanted. And so after a conversation with Tim that had extended long into the early hours of the morning, she made her move, sending Tim some innocent, yet extremely suggestive photos under the guise of needing his fashion advice. It turned her on, knowing why she was taking the provocative photos, and her nipples reacted accordingly.

By the end of that evening, Rachel had her prom date.

The prom itself was fun

Poor Kaity

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:38:09 +0000

Poor Kaity

The world's most awkward school girl.

Based on a post by NiceDayReboot. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Kaitlyn was a charity case, and I knew it. Of course, I always held a sense of guilt about that knowledge because I had to keep her from figuring it out. Oddly, for how often I'd acted as a surrogate older brother to her, she was a year older than me at nineteen. She'd been held back at least once to my knowledge, making her a junior when I was enrolling in college full time. Kaity was a bit distraught at the thought of me moving on and leaving her to fend for herself in her remaining two (given her track record, possibly more) years of high school.

I should probably point out that this wasn't her fault. She had some kind of condition that left her both a little slow on the uptake, and bafflingly naive when it came to social situations. I would have assumed Asperger’s or something, but she wasn't actively antisocial. Far from it, she actively threw herself at people with a witless enthusiasm that generally drove anyone with a sense of self-preservation away. Add to that a conservative, very religious upbringing and a complete inability to detect sarcasm, and it became quite clear how she'd made it this far without friends to speak of, to say nothing of a boyfriend. The few friends she did have were the type of socially unconscious girlfriends you'd pick up through Sunday school, with the Christian charity to befriend the poor dear and self-righteous enough to be persona non grata in any of the popular social circles. For all the effort she had put into acquiring a boyfriend, she couldn't seem to think of a use for one aside from holding hands and filling in the required space on a well-adjusted high school student's checklist. The few boys new and ignorant enough to accept her attentions generally called it off after an awkward day or so, going on to insist that it had never happened should anyone bring it up in the future.

Which left me. When I came to high school as a sophomore, transferring in from another school, I'd also been met with her amorous attentions within a week of my arrival. Unlike most of her usual victims, I had the foresight to turn her down. However, I'd used the "Let's just be friends" approach I'd found effective at warding off unwanted advances in the past, citing that I didn't know her well enough to date her. Kaitlyn took that literally, to the point where I was abruptly transferred from potential token boyfriend to Best Friend Ever without much say in the matter on my part.

Now I might be genuinely antisocial. I don't hate people, per se. I just often find better things to do with my time. So it was no small amount of trepidation that I faced her daily enthusiastic greetings, surprise hugs and torrential reports on anything that might have happened to her in the space of her attention span, which was mercifully brief. I have to admit it was a bit embarrassing to be greeted every day by my name squealed at the top of her lungs, usually accompanied by a cheerfully spastic wave and an intense hug whenever she got within range. But I wasn't trying to impress anybody, so I endured it with as much friendliness as I could muster. Besides, she did squish pleasantly against my chest whenever she hugged me, a pleasure somewhat mitigated by a habit of forgetting to wear deodorant at least twice a week. Still, I often had to dispense chaste "side-hugs" lest certain anatomical reactions betray exactly how I enjoyed them.

My own peculiar scholastic situation meant I only saw her at most twice a week, spending the rest of the time in advanced or college level courses, to which I was consigned despite my relative antipathy to studying. I may be a smartass, but I never put much work into it. I owed most of my advancement to parents who were constantly jockeying to have their "genius son" skip grades, take advanced courses and whatever legal or illegal means would put me further ahead of my peers. Despite that, it became pretty clear to me that I was probably Kaity's only real friend. She never seemed to notice, but most people went out of her way to avoid her. I couldn't really blame them either, I just happened to be more susceptible to guilt than most, and letting her putter away in all the wrong directions was easier than possibly hurting her feelings by telling her how to fix herself. In hindsight, she may have been aware of the situation to some degree, but I don't think her position really dawned on her until her nineteenth birthday.

She invited me, of course. She must have ended up inviting half the damn school. I was wondering how she was going to cram all of these people into her house, let alone feed them. It was supposed to be a pizza and pool party in her backyard and she was expecting twenty or thirty people. So, when I rattled up her driveway in my battered Mazda, I was a bit confused by the utter lack of people. The confusion slowly turned to horror as I figured out what was going on. It became pretty obvious as I let myself in that I wasn't just the first to arrive: I was the only one to arrive. Kaity perched forlornly on a bar stool in front of a counter laden with full pizza boxes, cake and assorted party snacks, none of which had been touched. Her mother busied herself non-nonchalantly about the kitchen, apparently unwilling to risk disturbing her daughter more when she was obviously upset. I caught sight of her younger brother gazing longingly at the food, wondering if it was ok to begin eating with no party guests in sight. At the risk of embroiling myself in what was obviously an awkward situation, I spoke up.

"Hey Kaity! Sorry I'm late. Where's the party?" She perked up a bit as I announced myself, and I caught a grateful glance from her mother as I tried to salvage the occasion.

"No one is coming." She let a bit of her melancholy show through her happiness at seeing me, "My friends all had more important things to do than come to my birthday,"

My eyebrows rose involuntarily at hearing Kaity of all people resort to sarcasm. "Well," I retorted, "To hell with them then. I know I'm worth ten or twenty of them on a good day, so why not have a party of our own?" I punctuated my declaration by leaning down and lifting her unruly dark hair out of her eyes, giving her my best devil-may-care grin.

She responded about at well as I could have hoped, giving me a hopeful smile through tear-reddened eyes. "Okay."

Her mother took advantage of the distraction immediately, shooting me another thankful glance as she took charge, "Let's just have dinner then, we can go out back later, maybe break out a movie or something once it gets dark out."

Despite the poor turnout, I felt like I'd managed to bring enough life back into her for the family to pick things up. We gathered round the pizza for her mom to say grace. We talked more than ate, for once I felt like an actual friend, and a bit more human than I'd felt in a while, struggling to help my naïve little friend through the realization that most people didn't really want to be around her when it really came down to it. Still, I made sure she had a good enough time. Even her mother seemed to be in a rare good mood as she snagged some pizza for herself. He little brother was in hog heaven, going to town on the overabundant food like a starving man, which should have been a warning sign that the disasters weren't over.

Not content with going into a food coma like any sensible child, the little bastard decided he wasn't feeling well and promptly threw up down my back. I was disgusted and a bit outraged, feeling hot bile soaking into my clothes and listening to the middle-schooler hacking up a storm. I might have felt a little sorry for him had I noticed how red he was getting while I politely excused myself to change into the swimming trunks I'd brought with me.

While I was skinning out of my slimed clothes and tossing them into the family washing machine, I caught some frantic raised voices and the slamming of the front door. A few minutes later, a soft tapping at the laundry-room door prompted me to finish pulling on my trunks and call out, "I'm decent."

I had my back to the door, bent over the washer when Kaity walked in talking quickly, "Mom's taking Kyle to the emergency room. She said it's ok if we used the pool while she's gone."

Running over that little non-sequitur, I choked out a surprised, "Wait, the Emergency Room, why..." before I turned around and abruptly lost all will to continue. Kaity was standing framed in the door, somewhat dopey smile still showing on her face, in what had to be the smallest bikini in the county. In her habitually loose clothing, I'd always assumed she was a little pudgy, but her current attire was busy banishing such notions, as well as most rational thought, from my mind. Strips of white fabric with black polka dots did a rather poor job of covering curvy pale flesh, and I swore I could hear the strings of her top humming with tension as they tried to restrain the snow-white balcony which dominated the landscape, and certainly made a fair bid for my attention. The sudden ringing in my ears drowned out whatever she had to say, forcing me to stammer out, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Oh, I said he had an allergic reaction to the tomatoes. We got him a special pizza without them, but he ate the wrong one." She answered, oblivious to the effect she was having on me.

"Right." I responded curtly, more like he'd eaten that one and then kept going. "Is he going to be ok?"

"Mom got him his epi-pen in time, but he's probably going to have to spend the night in the hospital again. It's happened before, so he'll probably be fine." She sounded like she was reassuring me for some reason. "So, you want to go swim?"

For some reason cold water sounded like a great idea just then. "Sure." I responded, regaining some clarity. As long as I just kept looking at her eyes; she turned around and I lost lock, my eyes dropping lower. I could see the presence of some baby fat clinging to her belly, but those honestly impressive tits and rolling hips served to even her out into an hourglass anyway. She was by no means supermodel thin, but the figure she cut in that bikini was favorable regardless. A fact that my mind only confirmed as I watched her stride dragging her bikini bottom between her ass cheeks, revealing more beautifully rounded pale ass cheek with every step. I barely made it halfway down the hall when the evacuation of blood from my brain was answered by a swelling elsewhere. My rising cock twitched, tenting the fabric of my swim trunks too obviously for me to play off. I fought off a little irrational panic as I tried to free it by tugging at my waistband. No such luck. Please don't turn around I, thought futilely in Kaitlyn's direction.

Telepathy not being the most reliable of methods, she chose just that moment to look back at me with that silly fucking grin. She stopped walking when she saw my mortified expression, then saw the reason why I looked so embarrassed, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she gasped and turned the rest of the way around.

We both stood at a loss for words as the awkward pause grew and my face only got more red. Then again, so did hers.

"Chris; " She broke the silence hesitantly, "Is that your; your; penis?" She almost whispered that last word fearfully, and I felt the irrational urge to face palm.

"Yes." I said dumbly. "Look, can we sit down for a moment? This is really awkward."

"Uh, sure." She very distractedly led me into the closest room, which happened to be her bedroom, a fact which only heightened my discomfort, although I didn't want to explain to her why. She sat down on the bed, and I couldn't find any other place to sit, so I sat on the bed a few feet from her.

By this time, my erection had decided to tangle itself in the netting of my trunks and, despite the embarrassment it was causing, showed no signs of backing down. Especially with Kaitlyn sitting so close and staring at it so fixedly. I tried to fix it as subtly as I could, given the circumstances, but the stupid netting only conspired to pinch the head, making me wince involuntarily.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, and I abruptly wondered if she was doing this on purpose. I managed to mutter an apology.

"Sorry, it's like this being a guy. Sometimes you see someone; something and it's kinda got a mind of its own."

"So; I did that?" She asked with some amazement, once again leading me to believe she was fucking with me.

"Yeah, I mean, sorry. I don't think of you like that or anything, it’s just you're very attractive and..."

She cut me off, this time she was blushing, "I'm attractive?" She seemed genuinely surprised that I'd admitted it.

Taking a refuge in audacity, I responded, "Well yeah, when you come around wearing that, and with the way it shows your body and stuff." Honestly this couldn't get any more awkward if;

"Can, I see it?" she whispered, bringing my train of thought to a screeching halt. I stared at her mutely for a long moment, before some impulse in my brain pushed me over the edge. I slid my shorts down around my ankles, freeing my cock and letting it stand free and in plain sight. I looked at Kaity to see her go furiously red, bite her lower lip and unconsciously cross her legs.

"Kaity?" I asked, worried I'd gone too far, reaching over to touch her shoulder. She twitched in reaction before tearing her eyes away from my erection.

"Looking at me gave you that?" She said in a tone of disbelief. I was about three seconds from calling bullshit. There was no way she was that naïve.

"Kaitlyn; you're a virgin?" She nodded slowly, looking me in the eye. "But you at least had sex ed, right? Right?"

"No. Mom called the school when she heard it was happening and got me excused."

Oh. My. Fucking. God. "Oh, Kaity. So you've never seen a; man naked before?" Her face answered the question for me, and I noticed her hands clutched white-knuckled behind her back. "Would you like to touch it?" She looked at me like a dear in the headlights, a mixture of shock and guilt in her eyes before she looked back down and extended a hand gingerly towards my groin. Cool knuckles grazed the curve of my shaft before she pulled her hand back as if it had been burned.

I gave her my best patient smile, becoming less embarrassed for me and more for her by the second. "Here." I took her hand and guided it back to my cock, wrapping her fingers around my girth and feeling myself shiver at the soft touch. I looked back at her, "Have you never masturbated before?"

She seemed too distracted by the feel of my warmth in the palm of her hand to be taken aback by the question. "No, I; it doesn't feel right!"

Once again I felt something like pity for the poor repressed girl. I edged closer until our thighs were together, forcing her to straighten up to keep her hand on my cock, which she did without thinking.

Fair's fair, I wrapped an arm around her to cup a tit through the bikini. "Here, let me show you."

It was her turn to shiver as I stroked her through the soft fabric, when she didn't protest, I made sure my other hand found a tit and softly squeezed. "Stroke my cock a little, Kaity."

She blushed at the profanity, but her hand started to gently rub my shaft and she stammered, "Like, this?"

In answer, I leaned in and kissed her, my lips leaving hers after only a moment to trail down her jawline before finding the sweet spot behind her ear. A nibble here, a lick there, and I was rewarded by feeling her breathing increase. Her arousal manifested in other ways too, as my hands found her nipples beginning to show through her bikini. I caught one and rolled it between my fingers, and her breath caught in her throat.

I let my other hand fall to her lap, only to find myself denied access by her reflexively crossed legs. "Kaity." I prompted into her ear as my hand wormed itself between her thighs to stroke her through the fabric. I could instantly feel the profile of her swelling clit through the cloth, and I massaged it gently.

Kaitlyn was still somewhat hesitant in her attentions towards my cock, although it hadn't stopped swelling the entire time. By now I was almost painfully erect, and there was no way her hesitant fingers were going to ease that, no matter how welcome they were.

I disengaged myself from Kaitlyn smoothly, and she opened her pleasure numbed eyes in chagrin as I stopped stroking her. I just smiled mischievously, "Lie back and open your legs." I commanded. She inhaled sharply, looking a little worried.

"But," I cut her off before she could say another word, "Don't worry, just lie back." I eased her gently down, letting my mouth trail down her body as she went, latching onto one of her nipples and sucking on it through the fabric, enjoying the way her arching back drove her down faster.

I reluctantly released her tit and turned my attentions towards the joining of her legs, where her tightly closed thighs still denied me access. What was the old saying? Persuasion is better than force? I kissed her belly button before driving my mouth eagerly towards her locked thighs, forcing my tongue between them to feel the swelling of her pussy lips through the polyester. When my lips found the soft protrusion of her clitoris and latched on like a suckling baby, Kaity let out an explosive gasp and her legs parted involuntarily. I lifted up her ass to position myself better, getting my head between her legs before I began to feast on her slit in earnest. Even through the fabric I could feel both my saliva and her w

Faith: First Times

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 07:36:58 +0000

A Good Girl Discovers Sensuality.

By Fredly - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

At last, Faith went to sleep Thursday night. In the early morning she awoke confused by the happening and sights of the night before. She was not sure if she had really seen her classmates, Christine and Jim; together in that alley, or had just dreamed the whole episode. As she became more awake, she began to remember making herself come and recalled the dreams that she had during the night. She recalled that most of her dreams had included an enormous erect penis floating in the air and attempting to enter pinhole size openings.

Faith shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the visions. The visions of the sexual activity continued to dance in her head, so she quietly got out of bed and took her shower. The hot water felt good as it cascaded down her body. The water created feelings in her similar to the feeling of the night before. As the feelings spread, she began to stroke her breasts and imagine what it would feel like if Steve, her boyfriend was caressing her

Her thoughts of him served to increase the excitement. She dropped a hand down to her mound and began to stroke her pussy. Faith quickly found her clit and rubbed herself furiously. The waves of pleasure quickly hit, and she found it difficult to remain standing. She quickly finished her shower and dressed for school.

The small college was bustling by the time she arrived. It was a big day for the students. The rival college’s basketball team was coming into town that night for the annual showdown. When She walked down the hallway toward her first class, she thought about the past twenty-four hours. The thought of her actions in the shower that morning made her smile mischievously.

She stopped to open the classroom door when someone grabbed her from behind. She knew that it had to be Steve. No one else would dare to sneak up behind her like that.

"Good morning, Beautiful!" he beamed as he spun her around.

She reached up and gave him a quick kiss and said, "Morning Handsome."

They made some small talk about the game as she waited to go into class. Faith opened the door, and the couple went into her first class. When they reached her seat, he gave her a small kiss and turned to walk away.

"See you at Lunch," he called over his shoulder as he hurried toward his class. That night their date started at the game, where she cheered.

French Friday

They spent the first few hours of the date in their usual fashion. They had gone to the game then and stopped by the local fast-food joint for a bite and a little conversation with the rest of the gang.

Throughout the game and dinner, Faith continued to have flashbacks of the scene she saw the night before. She hoped that no one would ask her about the game because she was so distracted that she didn't think she could even recall the score.

After leaving the restaurant, Steve suggested that they take a drive. The two of them often drove around town, talking to their friends as they cruised up and down the main street of town. Instead of the normal drive, he turned the car out of town. She was still distracted and didn't mind driving in the county. He drove around for a few minutes trying to make small talk. When she finally glanced outside and noticed that they were driving down a deserted road. Up ahead there was a small grove of trees. Steve turned the car into the grove and stopped.

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She scooted over and sat next to him and relaxed in the comfort of his arm. He stroked her face with his hand and talked about school, their relationship, and other small talk. She enjoyed hearing his voice and the feel of his hand on her face.

He bent down and kissed her. She felt nervous since they had never really spent any time alone in the car like this, but she was confident that she could stop him from doing anything that she didn't want. As he continued to kiss her, she began to get the same feeling between her legs that she had experienced in the alley. He was gently rubbing her back and shoulder and slowly moved his hand down to the front of her blouse.

She knew she should stop him, but his caresses felt too good. As long as he didn't try anything else, she decided not to remove his hand. He continued to kiss her and stroke her breast. Faith could feel her nipples harden with each caress and knew that he could feel her nipple as it pressed into his hand.

She wondered what it would be like to have his hand inside her blouse. She tried to put that curiosity out of her mind because she had been told that good girls didn’t let a date do that. He moved his hand. At first, she felt a sense of loss and wanted him to put his hand back. Suddenly, she began to panic as Steve began to unbutton her blouse.

"Steve, please don't! I can't let you!" she pleaded. He hesitated but continued to move his hand down her blouse, undoing the buttons.

"Please Faith? I won't hurt you, we have been going out for so long! The other guys tell me that their girlfriends don't mind!" As he spoke, he stopped undoing the buttons and placed his hand on her bra.

She sharply caught her breath. His hand felt so good. She knew that his hand wasn't going to harm anything if he just left it outside her bra. He began to caress both breasts through her bra as he kissed her deeply.

As he kissed her, he slowly touched his tongue to her lips. As his tongue touched her, she opened her mouth and let his tongue run across her teeth and into her mouth. She had never French kissed anyone before, but enjoyed the feel of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth. She began to play with his tongue with hers and sucked on his tongue as it snaked in and out across her lips. Gawd, she loved this!

He took his mouth off of hers and began to kiss down her neck. She shivered and felt as if she was floating in his arms. He continued to kiss down her neck until he reached her collarbone. She knew that he would stop soon, and they would go home. However, Steve continued to kiss along her collarbone, slowly pushing her blouse off of her shoulder.

"God, you look beautiful!" he exclaimed as he lifted his head and stared at her bra. "Please, let me look at you?"

She looked into his eyes and felt the same excitement that she had felt in the alley. "It's ok Steve, I’m nervous and a little scared. But if you really think that I am beautiful, I don’t mind.”

"God, yes! Can I kiss you here?" he asked as he grasped her breast through her bra.

"Please Steve, don't ask! I think that we should go! I want you to, but I just can't. Please don't ask!" As she spoke, she looked down and could see his hand on her bra now that her blouse had been pushed off her shoulder. She remembered Christine begging to be touched and wanted some of that for herself. She watched him reach into her bra and begin to pinch and stroke her nipple.

"Oh, Steve! That feels so good," she exclaimed as she pressed her chest into his hand. She couldn't believe that those words had come out of her mouth. She thought quickly about Jim and Christine and knew that it would feel so much better if her bra was not in the way. "Oh, Steve! Don't stop," she moaned.

She felt him moving his hand behind her back and fumbling with the catch on her bra. She subtly leaned forward to help. She wanted him to continue but didn’t want him to know how she felt. Just when she thought that she would either have to stop him or help him, she felt the catch give way. Her bra came loose, and he placed both hands on her full breasts.

"God! What nice tits!" he said.

"Please Steve, don't talk like that! It sounds so vulgar!"

Steve just blew it and made her feel cheap. "But babe, they are just beautiful! I can't help it!" he croaked. She was beaming again. His words boosted her fragile confidence in her own sexuality. He was out of the doghouse almost immediately.

She felt him fumbling to remove her blouse and bra and leaned into him, trying to help without showing her eagerness. Faith knew she should stop him, but she just couldn't. It felt too good. She felt herself being pushed back so that she was lying on the seat. Steve placed himself on top of her and kissed her nipples.

She arched her back so that she could press more of her breast into his mouth. "Yes! That feels so good! Don't stop! Kiss the other!"

Steve sucked her tits and she could feel the hardness between his legs as it pressed against her. Without any conscious effort, their hips began to move together. He ran his hand down her side and moved his hand in between their bodies. He pressed his hand against the front of her jeans. It felt so good, she wished it could go on forever.

Faith felt his fingers move as they attempted to unbutton her pants. She could almost hear her parents' lectures and the shame she had been taught. She panicked and pushed him off of her. She knew that he could not continue, but why? She was so confused and frustrated that she felt like crying.

Frantically she pushed him away. "Stop that! You know that I am not that kind of girl! I just can't let you go any further." Faith’s parents’ lectures spilled out of her mouth.

"Come on babe, stop teasing me! You can't just tease me and leave me like this! I’m so hard that I think I’ll burst! You just have to do something!" he begged. "Here, look for yourself!" he pled as he unzipped his pants.

She could see his straining cock as it poked through his white underwear. "Stop it, Steve! Put it back in your pants! You’re being disgusting!"

Faith turned to look away. As she turned, she took one more look at the object sticking out of his pants. She really wanted to look but the pressure was too much. She sucked in a breath as she froze in her internal conflict.

"Come on Faith! Look at it! I know you want to! Here, I'll take it out so you can see it!" As he spoke to her, she glanced out of the corner of her eye and watched as he pulled his cock from his pants. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. "That's it! Look at it real closely," he encouraged.

The tone of his voice and hands on her shoulder broke her trance. She knew she wanted to and used his encouragement to make her decision. She looked at his cock. She couldn't take her eyes off his cock as it stood there hard and poking out of his pants. The erect phallus has a magical capacity to draw out a woman’s curiosity.

"Can I touch it?" she asked as she committed to her desires. It was confusing, on one hand, she couldn’t believe that she has said those words and on the other, she really wanted to feel his cock.

"That would be great!" he moaned. "I need some relief!"

Oh, how she wanted his needs met.

She slowly placed her hand on his cock. She could feel his cock pulse and twitch as she touched it. Steve jumped and moaned as her hand came into contact with his cock. It was so hot and firm. She loved the feel of it in her hand. She continued to rest her hand on his cock and Steve sucked in his breath.

"Do you like my hand on you?" she purred. She instantly realized the control that she had over him when she held his cock. She felt her pussy tighten with pleasure as she experienced this power.

"That's good. Just run your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" he moaned. She slowly circled her hand around the pulsing cock and explored the sensation. She could feel the slippery liquid that had oozed out of the head of his cock. Faith spread the sticky fluid around his cock, then, wrapping her fingers around it as far as she could, she moved her hand up and down. He started breathing deeper and rocked his hips, sliding his cock up and down in her hand. "That's it, baby, keep it up! Your hand feels so good! Don't stop, you're going to make me come!" he begged her to continue. "Faith, this feels so good!"

She felt his hips flexing faster and his cock grow hotter and bigger. "Do you like it, babe? Do you like my hand on your cock?" she asked. She knew his answer before he spoke. She was getting a thrill out of talking dirty. Where did that come from?

"Come on baby! keep going! I am coming!" he shouted.

She felt his cock get bigger and watched as the cock twitched and began spraying her hand with what she knew to be semen. Faith watched in amazement as the white fluid kept coming out of his cock. The car was filled with the earthy scent of his cum. As his cum stopped shooting out of his cock, he slowly relaxed and grabbed her into a tight hug. "That was the best!" he said as he kissed her.

Faith felt exhilarated at the pleasure she had given him. She grabbed some tissue from her purse to wipe up her hands and his glorious phallus.

They got dressed in silence. As they dressed, she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt. She had given him what he wanted, but she remained frustrated. Why did she have to stop him? Why didn't she let him put his hand in her pants? Why didn’t she let him?

They drove home and made small talk. It was the uncomfortable chit-chat that often occurred when they both wanted to talk about what had happened but neither one of them dared to start the conversation or admit their feeling. She couldn’t concentrate on anything he was saying, and she was certain that he was rambling on about things he didn’t want to say, just to avoid the silence of the situation. When they got home, he walked her to the door and kissed her good night.

Faith went inside and went to her room. As she undressed, she could feel the wetness of her panties. Faith laid down and stroked herself to sleep. She was so frustrated that she came very quickly and saw stars as she exploded. She awoke two hours later from a vivid dream of his erupting cock. She had to change her panties once again, and go beck to sleep.

Saturday night depths

The next day was Saturday. Faith slept 'till noon. When she awoke and looked at her phone, she saw a message from Steve. He had called and wanted to see her that night. She knew she loved what had happened and she wanted more. Would she get what she wanted tonight? How did she get what she wanted without being too eager? Quickly, she picked up the phone and called him. They made plans to go to a movie and get something to eat.

He arrived on time that evening to take her to the movie. She was excited and could tell that he was as excited as she was about the evening. They went to the movie, as usual, pretending that this was just a usual date. After the movie, she got into his car. He started the car and she heard him ask, "What do you want to do tonight?"

She knew what she wanted but reluctantly she shrugged her shoulders and replied, "Whatever you want honey!" She hoped he would read her mind and make the decision to go to the grove.

They drove down the street and she could tell that he was thinking about the night before. He was trying to play it cool and pretend to casually drive around town. She was delighted that she was able to make him so happy. Steve nonchalantly drove out of town, nervously glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She knew he was hoping that she wouldn’t notice or object to where they were headed. As they drove, they both knew where they were going. In a few minutes, they found themselves back at the deserted grove of trees.

He quickly kissed her and removed her blouse, reached behind her, and unfastened her bra. He let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't stopped him and began sucking on her tits. She squirmed in delight as he sucked at her nipples.

"That's it hon! keep sucking! it feels so good!" she cooed. He stopped sucking after a few minutes and sat back. He tried to subtlety indicate what he wanted. He raised his hips, trying to persuade her to touch him. She rolled her eye. He wasn’t as clever as he thought he was. She knew what he wanted and decided to play along with his “persuasion.” She reached down and unfastened his pants.

"Good!" he said "That's it! take it out!" She reached into his pants and grabbed his cock. It felt so alive. She lifted his cock out of his underwear and she could already see the moisture collecting on the head. She began to stroke and explore his cock as he signed in relief.

She decided that tonight, she didn't want to go home frustrated. She stopped her ministrations after a few minutes.

"Don't stop now!" he begged.

"How about sucking on my nipples some more?" she asked. He brought her face to his and kissed her.

"Sure, I would love to!" he chuckled. They kissed and he pulled her so that she was laying across his lap, with her head leaning against the car door. She could feel his straining cock as it pressed into her back. He kissed her neck and worked his way toward her breasts. She sucked in her breath as he kissed and nuzzled her tits.

"Yes! Yes, that's it!" she moaned.

He had his left arm around her back, bracing her from the car door. As he kissed her tits, he reached his hand around and began stroking her left breast as he kissed and sucked at her right nipple. He stroked her stomach with his right hand. He cautiously moved his hand lower on her stomach until he reached the top of her jeans. She felt his hand move hesitantly under the waistband of her pants. He moved his hand back and forth along her stomach, just under the material of her jeans, building up confidence, then his hand crept lower and soon was squarely between her legs. She was ready for him this time.

She longed to have him touch her the way she had seen Jim touching Christine.

"Please don't tease me!" she whispered. "I need to feel your hand touching my skin."

He smiled and undid the buttons on her jeans. Steve unbuttoned all the buttons and placed his hand on her panties. She sucked in her breath as he stroked her through the thin material.

"Baby, that feels so good!" she purred. "Don't stop!" She was so wet and knew that he could feel the cloth of the panties getting damp as he rubbed her.

He felt the hair that surrounded her mound and ran his finger down the crease in the center of her mound. She almost lifted her hips clear off of the seat as she felt his finger stroke her through her panties. She rocked her hips into his finger. He then reached up higher and placed his hand inside the band of her panties.

"Go on!" she encouraged him. He pushed his hand under her panties and down onto her pussy. He explored her mound and ran his fingers through the patch of hair surrounding her cunt. He stroked her and felt her pussy lips opening and he could feel the moisture seeping out of her.

"God, you're wet!" he said as he ran his hand down between the lips of her cunt and into her opening.

"Yes! Yes, that's it, rub right there!" she begged. He felt her becoming slicker and opening up as he ran his hand along the slit into her pussy. She jumped as he touched her clit. "Rub harder, come on baby! make me come!"

"Lift your hips so I can get your pants off!" he said as he rubbed her clit.

“Stop talking and help me cum! You can feel enough already!" she groaned as she rubbed her hips back and forth on his finger.

"It would be a lot nicer for you if I didn't have to fight with these damn pants!" he whispered as he continued to circle his finger on her clit, dipping a finger into her pussy.

"You're doing great just as you are! Rub harder! I'm coming!" she cried "Uhn! Uhn! yea baby, more! Yes! yes! yes!" she screamed, and her body tightened as she rubbed herself against his finger. She continued to groan and writhe as she felt the waves of her orgasm.

She started to relax, and she could feel the rock-hardness of his cock poking into her back. She turned to look at the bulge poking out of his pants and started to his cock. While laying in his lap, it was awkward to try and stroke his cock, so she hopped back to her side of the car and continued to explore his cock.

"Yes, baby that's it! Do it like you did last night!" he moaned. She opened his pants farther and exposed more of his cock. She teased his cock as he moaned in delight. "God, Faith that feels great! Put your hand around it and move your hand up and down!" She grabbed his cock and wrapped her hand around it.

"Steve, it's so big! I can't get my hand around it!" she said, still surprised at the size. She knew what she

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 01 May 2026 02:28:00 +0000

Her Spontaineous Breastgasms: Part 2

Reliving a strange phenomenon.

Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Lying there in bed, the feel of my wife's mouth and tongue as she teasingly pleasured me was erotic enough. Marsha could suck cock like nobody's business, and she was driving me nuts just as she knew she could. But what I also enjoyed was the fact she got aroused, turned on whenever I shared any experiences, any stories with her, just as she was now. And just as she so often did for me too.

"So what happened after that night?" She then asked. I was having trouble concentrating, but then I drifted back in time...remembering.

"It was that very next Monday, after school, and after I had taken a beating from my friends, though not in the literal sense. Stacy was on the prom committee, and they were meeting a short time later after school planning and preparing for our graduating dance. We'd previously agreed to meet at Johnson & Johnson's," I told her. I saw the confused look on my wife's face as I said that, knowing I'd have to explain, which I then did.

"As in the baby oil?" she asked questioningly, as I knew she would. I laughed, shaking my head no.

"No, we called it that because of two very popular teachers at the school a year back prior to all this. When the school was originally built, someone fucked up on the dimensions, when they built the wall between the auditorium and the gym, they didn't quite come together the way it had been planned for. What they ended up with was a little hall that led nowhere, a three and a half foot dead end. An alcove that later on they planted a tall fake tree in, though someone kept moving it. It became a running joke as to where the tree would end up, leaving that weird little alcove vacant. In the beginning, it was a place to go and steal a quick kiss with your girlfriend, it wasn't long before it became a status symbol for anyone who did."

"Ok," Marsha said following along, "But where does the Johnson and Johnson come in?" she then asked.

"Someone caught Mrs. Johnson, and Mr. Johnson kissing one another in that alcove.

"So? What's wrong with two obviously married teachers having a little fun, simply kissing one another?"

"Nothing...except they were both married to different Johnson's at the time," I told her.

"Oh!" My wife laughed. "Now I see!"

"Over time, the story went from someone catching them kissing, to someone catching them touching, to finally...someone catching them actually fucking. Eventually they were both called in. Denied any of that ever happened of course, but sadly...they were both let go the following year. Ever since then, that alcove that then had a permanently chained tree sitting inside it, was known as Johnson and Johnson corner," which is where Stacy and I had agreed to meet after school. Now...the other thing about that was, the school had quite stupidly created the perfect place, the perfect camouflage to hide what now really began to happen there. Bushy enough, and big enough to hide someone's presence, it was no obstacle to slip around the tree and hide in back of it without being seen. So ironically, the very rumor that had caused the expulsion of the two teachers, now became even more symbolic, and more of a challenge to become a rapidly growing member of a very secretive club. Stacy wanted us to meet there, become members before we graduated. So we decided to meet there quickly before her committee meeting.

I sighed delightedly as Marsha began sucking my cock hungrily. "Go on..." she slurred.

"So anyway...she was already waiting for me behind the tree when I got there. She had taken off her top, her cute little boobs totally bare, nipples rock hard and waiting for me when I came around and found her. I doubt seriously that anyone actually fucked behind that tree, though there were claims by a few who said they did. I know we were scared that we'd still be discovered, even with it being after school. So I'm sure that a majority of those who claimed they had, were simple exaggerations as well. But Stacy and I were determined at least to do something, and that came in the form of me getting her off, simply by playing with her tits, which I did. I sucked them, played with her nipples, pulling on them just the way she liked until she came. And as I would learn later, I knew she had, simply by the way her face screwed up whenever she did, whether it was simply by tit-play, or when I eventually went down on her, and even fucked her for the first time the night we actually graduated. But I'll save that story for another time," I said smiling. "Point being...after that, wherever, and whenever we could over the course of the next few weeks, I was constantly getting Stacy off, just by playing with her tits whenever we could get away with it."

"Well don't stop now...or I will!" Marsha warned me. "What happened next?"

"Well, we got braver and bolder as the days went. Though since Stacy hardly ever wore a bra by now, that made it a whole lot easier for us. The fact her nipples seemed to get even more sensitive, making it easier for her to actually climax, and far more quickly too, we'd started doing things almost right out in the open in fact. As we often did, I had walked her to her next to last class, my own just across the hall from hers, we always had a few minutes to chat before the bell rang, so once again, as usual, we were standing there leaning up against the lockers as some of the others in our classes walked by. We were standing in such a way that we were shielding what my hand was doing to her with our books. I was just fingering her nipple, through her blouse in fact, though enjoying the fact it was fucking rock hard, flicking it back and forth, grazing it with my fingernail when she came. For a moment, I thought she was going to pass out, her eyes almost rolling into the back of her head, reaching out to steady herself, grabbing onto my arm as she climaxed. Which is when Miss Peterson, her teacher walked by heading towards the class. She saw the look on Stacy's face, stopped to ask if she was alright as she looked ill, about to pass out. It was all we could do to keep from laughing, though Stacy did in fact feign being "dizzy" after that, which she was...but not for the reason Miss Peterson thought of course. She then asked if I'd take Stacy down to the nurses office and have her looked at. Which I did. I gave her another orgasm while sitting in the office waiting for the nurse to come out and see her. Like I said, we started doing some pretty risky things then, disappearing into one classroom or another between our own classes. Sometimes...if we had time, Stacy would jerk me off. She loved having me cum on her tits, which very often made her cum again, just thinking about my sticky wet spunk clinging to her boobs. After that happened the first couple of times, I started calling her "Breastgasm" since she seemed to be able to have an orgasm almost at the drop of a hat, or rather...at the merest, slightest touch of my hands on her tits. It was almost automatic with her after that."

"So what happened that caused the two of you to breakup?" My wife asked.

"Well that really is the weird and sad part to the story. As I told you, Stacy and I had already decided we were going to give one another our virginity on graduation night. We'd been talking about it, and planning it for the past couple of weeks. I'd actually booked a nice room at a nearby hotel, though I wasn't the only one who had done that either. Once again, it was something a lot of seniors did, getting rooms under the pretense of not driving home drunk, which everyone's parents knew we would be. And completely ignoring, or overlooking the obvious. Such was the way of things back then. Anyway, we made a mistake, got caught...though at the time, neither one of us knew it, not until the very next day, during the dance. And even then, Stacy didn't let on anything until much later on that evening, after we'd actually had sex for the very first time together. It was the first... and last time we ever did."

"Go on," My wife said, completely forgetting all about my cock now, though she still held it in her hand. "What happened then?"

"We were both horny...and careless, thinking about the following night. I'd gone to help Stacy with the last of the decorations in the gym prior to the dance. We had decided to have one of our "tit quickies" and ducked out, thinking we'd be alone and unnoticed as we slipped into the girl's locker room, back into the shower area. Obviously, no one was in there, and certainly not in the showers, so we thought we were perfectly safe. Unbeknownst to either one of us, John, Danny, Jake and Matthew had seen us duck out, and soon after, followed us inside. They all watched as I stood there sucking on Stacy's tits, watched as she climaxed, and then climaxed again...and again...and, again! They knew then, I'd been telling them the truth the first time when I first told them she could, and did actually climax that way. They left before we did, so at first, neither one of us knew they had seen us. We went back to the gym, and I soon after left as Stacy was going home with one of the other girls as soon as they finished up.

John was waiting for her out in the parking lot when they came out. He then told her what I had told all of them so very long ago. How she could cum simply by having her boobs played with. He didn't tell her they'd actually watched us doing that either. As far as she knew, I'd been bragging all along, telling all my friends everything we'd done and had been doing. He then clinched it by telling her I had in fact just told him a short while ago, how we'd gone into the shower room together, and how I'd gotten her off then too."

"And yet the two of you still went to the dance, and even fucked afterwards that evening?" My wife asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we did. Like I said, that was the weird part. Stacy never let on just how upset and mad at me that she was. But...oddly enough, she also didn't want things to end between us, until we actually had made love together, at least once anyway. So that's what happened. I went through the entire evening without a clue that anything was wrong. After the dance, we went back to the hotel, made love, which I thought was beautiful for us both, but then afterwards, she got up, said she needed to do something, and left. Which surprised me as she didn't explain what it was or why. So I waited, wondering...and then finally got up and went looking for her. As I said, there were several couples from our class that had booked rooms there. There were parties going on everywhere, so I thought that maybe Stacy had gotten sucked into one of them. I started looking for her, going from room to room. And then I found her a short time later."

I paused remembering, it all seemed so surreal back then, even now.

"Remember that guy I told you about sitting next to us at the drive-in?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, we ran into one another in the hallway, literally. He was running, came around the corner when we collided. Took him a minute to remember me, recognize who I was. When he did, he smiled sheepishly and said, "Hey man...sorry to hear about you and your girlfriend, but from what I hear, she really is hot, and really can get off just by having her boobs played with!"

"Stunned, I watched as he ran down the hall, knocked on a door, and then let himself in. Which is when I heard Stacy's laugh. The way she laughed, especially when she was drunk, horny and excited, was unmistakable. I then ran down the hall myself, didn't bother knocking, just opened the door. She was standing there in her formal gown, except that her boobs were bare, hanging out. John was sucking on one of them as she stood there, some other guy, someone I didn't know, sucking on the other. She was in the midst of having an orgasm at that very moment when I walked in. Needless to say, I turned around and left. Drove home. Two weeks later I was in the Navy and headed for boot camp. Never saw Stacy again."

"So how did you find out the truth about why she did what she did?" My wife asked.

"Ironically, it was at the ten year reunion. Stacy wasn't even there, she didn't come. I heard through the grapevine she had in fact just gotten back from her honeymoon, and perhaps knowing I was going to be there, decided under the circumstances that it wouldn't be a good idea for her to show up. Obviously, the wounds were still deep enough that she would feel awkward running into me again, even though she had recently gotten married. It was towards the end of the evening when I heard laughter coming from a nearby table, I walked over just in time to hear someone sitting there telling this story how the four of them had walked in on Stacy and me in the shower area. He then proceeded to tell the others sitting there how Stacy was duped into believing I'd betrayed her. Needless to say, he shut up when he looked up and saw me standing only a few feet away, but by then I'd heard everything. I looked around, saw John standing over by the buffet table talking to another old girlfriend of his, and walked over. Up until now, I'd avoided him and the other guys most of the night. I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around surprised to find me standing there, and actually offered me his hand. That's when I turned the lights out for him. I left soon afterwards. But at least now I knew why things had happened the way they had."

"Well, I for one am glad that they did, or I might not be married to you now," Marsha told me as she slid up onto my chest, hovering just above me as she rested her wet moist pussy against my shaft. "Still a sad story though, wonder if she'll be at the reunion this year?" she asked.

I didn't answer, nor think about it any further. I simply slid my hard cock deep inside my wife's lovely cunt, and enjoyed the pleasure I found there.

On Friday we went to my high school thirty year reunion, which was actually being held at the old high school. The first thing Marsha asked me to show her when we walked in was Johnson & Johnson corner. I laughed when we arrived there, it had been walled up and bricked in. Something they perhaps should have done to begin with, though the wall itself was now covered with hundreds of carved initials. I looked about hurriedly, withdrew my pocketknife and added my own, as well as Stacy's to the display. Marsha laughed hugging me to her, and then followed me over to the sign in table so we could pick up our name badges.

For those who had graduated and were in attendance, they had included a picture of how we'd looked back then; beside our names. After thirty years, a lot of people had changed and it was becoming harder and harder to recognize a few people the way they looked now as opposed to the way they looked back then. Some as I saw as Marsha and I wandered about hadn't changed all that much. Though there was the maturity of age that touched us all, the eyes never did change. We stood and spoke with friends I knew and still considered to be so, feeling more and more pleased about myself that I hadn't let myself go as opposed to a few others that were there. Periodically I glanced about, wondering if Stacy would in fact be there this year, not at all sad to find that John and the other three pricks weren't.

"Maybe they heard you were coming," my wife joked when I told her I hadn't seen any of the others. I laughed at that.

"I caught John by surprise," I reminded her. "He was bigger than I was even then, if anything...it should be me who should be worried," I quipped back, though after thirty years, I couldn't imagine that John would still be holding a grudge. Either way, I decided it might be best to keep my eyes out for him, just in case.

We mingled for a bit, chatted it up with a few friends, and then found ourselves a table to sit at as dinner began. As we were sitting there, I glanced up about to take a bite of my prime rib when I saw her.

"Oh my god! She's here!" I said speaking to my wife. Marsha didn't need to ask who, or where, she looked up in the direction I was looking. Stacy stood only a short distance away, looking towards us, it was evident she had just seen me too.

"Invite her over," my wife told me. "Go on David...wave her over. I'd like to meet her for one. But maybe it's about time you finally put the past behind the two of you," she added.

I kissed my wife, stood, and waved in Stacy's direction. Surprised, she smiled and then somewhat awkwardly made her way over. There was an extra seat at our table, Marsha again the one to invite her to sit down and join us as I introduced the two of them.

"Been a long time, David," she said after meeting my wife. "You haven't changed all that much," she told me.

"Neither have you," I replied back. Aside from putting on a few extra pounds, which we all had, and now wearing her long hair cut short, far shorter than I would have imagined her ever wearing it, she really hadn't.

"Well thanks, but you're just being kind," she said taking her seat. "Your wife's beautiful," she then added once again smiling towards Marsha.

"David's always had good taste in women," Marsha responded back winking at her. The awkwardness of the moment in seeing her again quickly passed. Before long we were enjoying our dinner together and catching up on old times. It was then that I noticed she wasn't wearing a wedding ring, though I didn't ask her about it until she brought it up herself, explaining that she had actually gotten divorced two years ago. What I didn't know until that moment, was the fact she had married Jake, one of the guys who had actually spied on the two of us in the shower room.

"Sorry to hear that," I told her, though I was smiling secretly to myself that she'd eventually dumped the guy. By now, we were all feeling comfortable around one another, though the free-flowing booze had certainly helped.

"I don't know how much David has told you about us," she wondered asking, as my wife answered her.

"David and I don't have, or keep any secrets from one another," Marsha told her. "In fact, we very often share things with one another in the heat of the moment...if you know what I mean," she surprised me in explaining to her. "So I'm very much aware of everything between the two of you, and don't mind saying...I'm jealous of you. Wish I had the ability to do that myself, do you still?" Marsha then asked, shocking me in asking it that she did, and seeing poor Stacy's face suddenly turn crimson at the question. Though thankfully, she laughed at that, out loud.

"To be perfectly honest with you both...it has been a while. But yes, as David and you obviously both know, I can yes."

I excused myself to step outside for a smoke, giving the two of them a chance to talk freely for one. It seemed like Stacy was glad for the companionship, and it gave me a chance to collect myself after seeing her again for the first time in years. It wasn't as though I had any feelings for her, beyond hoping we could at least bury the past. But I did hope that perhaps at some point we could sit down and have lunch together, and then let bygones be bygones. When I returned, the girls were missing, though Cheryl and Mike who'd been sitting with us at the table informed me the girls had headed off to the restroom and would be back shortly.

They returned a few minutes later, laughing and holding hands like they'd been friends for years. "Stacy took me on a tour of the girl's locker room," she stated as they retook their seats. "I had to see the infamous place for myself," she then teased Stacy, who once again sat there blushing as she said that. But her comment and tour had opened up the door, which I prepared to step through myself, though Stacy beat me to it before I could.

"I'm sorry about what happened," she told me. "I didn't learn the truth until several years later," she added. "I should have known better...but, I was young at the time..."

"As we all were," I interjected.

Stacy nodded her head and continued. "You know the really ironic thing was, even after I had learned the truth about what

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 30 Apr 2026 02:28:00 +0000

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1.

A high school reunion brings back fond mammories.

Based on a post by Many Feathers. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It had been a very long time since I'd seen many of my old high school friends and buddies. The last time had been at the ten year reunion, this would be the thirty year reunion, and I knew that most of us would have changed between now and then; dramatically.

Although I was still in reasonably good shape, even without working out specifically, I had still put on a few pounds, but with the exception of a few perhaps, I figured everyone would be in the same boat as I was. I still had a full head of dark hair, though I had noticed just a sprinkle of gray had begun at the temples. The one thing about myself I had always considered my best feature however, were my eyes, bright blue with just a hint of gray in them. There was a caption in the yearbook next to my photo, it read: "Bedroom eyes".

Though my wife Marsha hadn't attended the same school I had, nor would know any of my old friends, she was looking forward to going almost as much as I was. And I for one was looking forward to showing her off. Marsha had a great body, though a few years younger than me, and certainly my graduating class, giving her a bit of an edge perhaps in the looks department. Fairly large breasted, a tight waist and firm well rounded ass, I had no doubt she would be the envy of many women there. And though she knew I was secretly entertaining those very thoughts, she was looking forward to going for no other reason than to perhaps meet a few of my old high school girlfriends that I had shared erotic naughty stories about with her over the past few weeks.

And one in particular came to mind, wondering if she would in fact, be there, though she hadn't come to the ten year reunion, so it had been at least thirty years since I had even seen Stacy. I had shared the story of our dating experiences with my wife, which had excited Marsha tremendously. Mainly because of the somewhat unusual circumstances, and very erotic nature of my old girlfriend, which was far different than anyone, I had ever known, including now.

The thing about Stacy that was so unusual, was the fact she could climax simply by having her tits played with. Maybe there were other women who could do this, but I'd never met anyone else, not like Stacy anyway. Even my own wife Marsha, who loved it when I played with her tits, as much as I wanted to, in fact; She didn't climax simply from my playing with her the way Stacy did. And not that I minded, certainly not. The fact that Marsha enjoyed as much attention as I gave her in that regard was something I relished, enjoyed and was more than pleased with. Marsha has fairly large tits with extremely sensitive nipples, though not too sensitive as to detract from the enjoyment of being able to play with them to my heart's content.

I've actually known a couple of women who were exact opposites. One girl allowed my fondling of her with indifference. She had even forewarned me before hand that she felt virtually nothing when I, or anyone else for that matter played with her boobs. Basically, she got nothing out of it beyond seeing me becoming aroused myself. Unfortunately, part of my arousal and excitement has always come from seeing the woman become aroused or excited by whatever I was doing. So in this instance at least, it was a bit of a letdown, and thus took away from the pleasure I would normally have received.

On the other side of that same coin, I had also known a woman who's nipples were simply too sensitive. Once aroused, she could hardly stand to have anyone even touch them. Even just looking at them sent her into giggling fits, super sensitivity once again taking away from, rather than adding to, the enjoyment and sensuality of that particular form of foreplay. Which was a crying shame too, as Gayle; as I recall her name being, had a really nice looking set of tits too. But once she was truly aroused, it was always "hands off", after that.

Now the thing about Stacy was, she didn't have really large tits either. She was the type of girl that a well-known saying was written for, "More than a (good-sized) handful is wasted!"

I guess if you were to classify her, her tits would be considered on the small side. Certainly not flat chested, not by any means, and yes, when I held them within my hands, they filled them more than adequately with still a bit left over for good measure. But the thing was, Stacy literally could climax, and very often did, just by my playing with them.

We had started dating, had been going out for well over a month with nothing more than a few deep soulful kisses being shared between us. With her tits being not quite so large, she very often didn't wear a bra, her pert nipples poking through and pressing against the material of whatever tee shirt or tank top she was wearing. But I always found it interesting that she only did that, going without a bra, whenever it was an activity or an event that virtually made it impossible for me to even think about trying anything. Both times we'd gone to the drive in theatre, she had worn a bra, making it obvious by her suddenly hidden and protected nipples that she was. (I later learned she even went so far as to wear a nipple cover beneath her bra, much like protective pasties, on those evenings when we'd gone out where the temptation might have been too much for either one of us to adhere too.)

Like I said, up until now, I hadn't even touched her, though I also hadn't made any real attempt in doing so either, not wanting her to feel like that was all I wanted from her; sex.

I mean I did, but not purely just for that either. I really liked her. Stacy was the first girl I felt like I could have real feelings for, and because of it, I was content to take my time and see how things went.

It was perhaps our seventh or eighth real date. We had gone to the drive-in movie, which was now becoming a weekly event for us, and something we both looked forward to. As was usually the case, it was a double feature with the movie we really wanted to see coming on second. Some twenty or thirty minutes before intermission, with each of us bored with the first movie already, we'd quite naturally gravitated to kissing and cuddling, as we'd been doing every time we came to the drive in, waiting for the second feature to start. And not that I minded that either, Stacy was fun as hell to kiss, and it never failed to get either one of us all hot and bothered, though we very often had to force ourselves to take a break whenever that happened, before things got too carried away. Intermission was always great for that it seemed, giving each of us an excuse, though I daresay, it was Stacy who used it as one. I'd have been content to continue on with what we were doing, even with the lights lit up on the blank screen in front of us. Needless to say, I was pretty much expecting that to happen as we sat there, necking in the front seat of my car, wondering how much longer we had before the movie finally ended.

Now maybe this was typical of the times back then, perhaps many can relate to this. But there was a sort of a non-spoken game that I think was quite often played in the front seat of every car with a pair of young teens in it. Whether it be at a drive-in, or parked on some lover's lane some place, or even on the couch in the den at her parent's house. We all played it, and we all went home with smiles on our faces afterwards if we (in our minds) made any sort of progress since the last time we played it.

I think the unofficial name of the game was, "How close did you come?" And not meaning "cum" per say...but how close did you get to actually touching her tits?" I know for a good many of my friends, it was very often the topic of conversation, come Monday afternoon during gym class. "How far did you get? What happened? What did you do to get that far?" We all shared... techniques that seemed to work, more importantly, the attempts that failed so that no one else would make the same mistakes.

I was in fact at that very moment, running through my own mind the advice one of my closest buds had given me that past Monday afternoon. He was the first amongst us to actually succeed in the titty-department, now a God as far as the rest of us were concerned, and now armed with invaluable information, though I was scared to death to actually try it. As was most everyone else I could only guess.

"Just touch it!" He's said simply. Could it honestly be that easy? I mean you didn't just get in the car, reach over and grab her boob, certainly not. But...once the real kissing had gotten started and had been going on for a while, and then it was time to try that. "No tentative, creeping up on it," he'd informed us. Which some few of us had tried, and had failed at. It gave the girls far too much advanced warning, as we soon after learned. Allowing them too much time to think about it before it happened, most then chickening out, or deciding in that brief moment it was either far too soon for that, or they simply weren't ready for it even if it wasn't.

According to Jim "The God" of booby fondling, you simply lifted your hand and placed it directly over your girlfriends boob, and then softly caressed it. With luck, she let you keep your hand there for a few seconds at the very least. And even if she eventually did decide to make you move it off her, you had still gotten to "cop a feel of her tit," as we called it. And that was better than running your fingers off to the side, never quite actually touching it, before being told "No...don't," or feeling her hand moving yours away.

A little booby was better than no booby. And so far, I was still on the "no booby at all" side of things.

Our kissing had finally reached the tongue fencing stage, which never failed to arouse the two of us, but it was also the first sign that we'd be taking a much needed (not wanted)break soon, especially with the music informing the two of us that the first movie was coming to an end. It was now or never the way I saw it. And in the next instant, my hand was resting directly on her tit, through her tee shirt of course, but on her tit! I think that moment surprised both of us for a number of reasons. She wasn't expecting it for one, but she didn't haul off and deck me either. Only seconds had passed, but my hand remained as I kneaded the softness of her tit like a contented cat. For me at least, it felt like an eternity, and I was already rehearsing my speech for the guys come Monday, when I felt Stacy's hand suddenly covering mine.

"Damn!" I thought to myself. "Here it comes, the gentle, but firm pull away. The unspoken "No," though the barrier had been crossed, even if the barriers were about to be put up again. Still...I'd actually touched titty, real titty. So even if it was a two or perhaps three second fondling, I'd finally achieved the penultimate in front seat groping with one's girlfriend.

What I didn't expect, was when her hand remained on mine, and my hand remained on her tit, the sound of my name being sung ever so softly as I sat there. "Oh...David!"

Even with her bra on, I now felt the sudden emergence of her hard extended little nipple. But even more surprisingly, her gasp, the audible sigh of pleasure that escaped her lips in a long drawn out pleasured sound, unlike any I had ever heard before. But that nipple! Oh my god, that nipple! I swear it had burned an impression within the palm of my hand, half tempted to check, though fearful of doing so, which would mean taking my hand away. Something I didn't dare do, as I was already well into the twenty or thirty second mark of booby fondling, which I felt had to be some sort of a new worlds record at the very least for first time tit fondlers.

The second the lights came on, on the screen just a few rows in front of us, Stacy suddenly took my hand and gently moved it off and away from her. Even though she did, I was floating on cloud nine, not even aware of the massive erection in my pants, the short-circuiting of my own arousal not as yet registering in my head as Stacy slid over a few inches, putting distance between us.

"I'll be right back," she said reaching for the door. "Get us some popcorn, and something to drink," she then added smiling at me. Which was a big relief in a way, I'd gotten to finally fondle her boob, and she wasn't mad at me for doing it either!

I sat for several long moment's willing my cock to go down, watching as several single girls all seemed to pile out of their cars one by one, heading back towards the restrooms. It was obvious I wasn't the only guy waiting patiently for his erection to go down before making their way inside the refreshment stand either. When it had gone down to sufficiently allow me to go inside, though wickedly smiling to myself that perhaps there would still be enough of a noticeable bulge showing without being obscene, and thus serving an entirely different purpose, I climbed out of the car and went inside to grab our drinks and the popcorn. In doing so, I also scanned the crowd to see if there were any of my buddies there. If there were, then sharing secret signals on how well we'd done. Unfortunately, there was no one there I hung out with, so my achievement would have to wait until the following Monday.

I was still reliving the experience second by second, running it over and over again inside my head when Stacy returned to the car. I handed her, her drink, and sat the bucket of popcorn on the seat between us. As I did so, I happened to glance over and saw that her nipples, both of them were still pressing even more firmly, more obviously than I ever remembered seeing them before against the material of her shirt. And then I knew why...Stacy had removed her bra entirely!

Minutes later as the lights came down again, and the second feature started, Stacy and I came together like a pair of magnets. I remember the tub of popcorn being knocked over, spilling onto the floor of my freshly cleaned and vacuumed carpeting. I could have cared less. And like magnets, my hand, or rather both of them actually, found each of Stacy's tits, (braless tits mind you) simultaneously. Now I was touching both boobs (well sort of anyway) but the fact she was no longer wearing a bra, essentially giving me the so called "green light", once again a never-before reached level of achievement, (not even by John the God himself). I think every hair on my entire body was standing on end. Goose bumps galore racing up and down my entire body, along with my rock-hard cock, that was now almost painfully uncomfortable as I sat half twisted in my seat, both hands caressing Stacy's soft full tits. But the best was yet to come.

I had within a short span of time, graduated from booby fondling, to nipple pinching. It was like graduating from high school early, and going on to college. The fact I was actually thumbing and exploring those hard little nubbins of flesh (even if it was still through her thin tee shirt) was well beyond my wildest imaginings. (Well ok...maybe that's going a little too far), but...it was certainly more than I'd expected to happen during the course of the evening.

Once again, she placed her hands over both of mine, and then I thought, "Okay, so now she's bringing things to a screeching halt," perfectly content with that if she had. Already I had blown the roof off anything any of the other guys had achieved, including John, who in my mind no longer warranted "God status", a title I couldn't claim myself either as it had to be given you by the others. But already I was imagining the official ceremony taking place come Monday.

With Stacy's hands now covering mine, I felt her lift them, still holding mine, almost pulling away, though she held each of mine in hers tighter still. In the next instant, I felt the touch of skin on skin, her hands now guiding each of mine beneath her tee shirt! I seriously couldn't believe this was happening. Within seconds, I now had twin impressions permanently burned within the palms of each hand, as I now covered those extended nipples of hers directly, palming and again kneading them at first, before delicately locating each within my finger tips.

Once again Stacy moaned, her cry of pleasure easily heard as the couple sitting in the car next to us suddenly looked over. I felt prouder than hell as I saw the guy suddenly smile, giving me the thumbs up. I'd seen him around at school, though I didn't know him. But I also knew now that the story would spread, giving confirmation to my coronation come Monday.

I lost all sense of my surroundings along with my newfound status when I heard Stacy say, "Suck them."

Everything else became a blur after that. As my mouth actually surrounded one of her hard little points, gathering it between my lips as I gently suckled her tit, three things seemed to happen at once.

One, I came in my pants. It was quite unexpected and unplanned for. And though embarrassed that I had, I still had the secret advantage of her not knowing that.

Secondly, it did at least alleviate the ever growing pressure I was feeling.

And three, it made it a hell of a lot more comfortable to sit there, even if I could feel the sticky moisture of my climax bathing my rapidly deflating cock. Which surprisingly, didn't stay that way for as nearly long as I might have expected.

The only thing that really mattered now, was the fact I was going back and forth between each one of her tits, sucking them, flicking them with my tongue, while my fingers played ‘follow the leader’ on her other tit. It was only a few moments later when Stacy did the one thing I would never have expected her to do in a million, trillion years. She came.

My orgasm had been a silent, secret, though messy one. I think I may have grimaced with my lips surrounding her nipple, but that was about as much as I gave away. Stacy on the other hand, simply cried out, unabashedly, unashamedly, and uninhibitedly. I wish now I had looked over to our companions sitting on either side of us, I'd loved to have seen the expression on their faces then. But I was simply too busy still sucking and fondling Stacy's tits to bother looking, tempted as I may have been.

Now, as stupid as this may sound, (and probably does) I still didn't know, or grasp the fact she'd just had an orgasm. I wasn't so naive as to believe girls didn't; however, the mechanics I knew involved other things needing to take place before that could be achieved. And unless she'd been secretly fondling herself in some way that I wasn't aware of, her cry of pleasure simply signaled to me that she was enjoying whatever the hell it was I was doing. So imagine my surprise when Stacy finally pushed me away. Talk about confused. One second I'm thinking she's hotter than she's ever been, certainly hotter than any girl I've ever known or been with, and the next second, she's calling a sudden screeching halt to the proceedings.

"Maybe you'd better take me home," she says quietly, readjusting herself, and sliding over closer to her own door, the crunch of popcorn beneath her feet as she does so. I knew better than to question her, or complain about the fact the movie we'd come to see wasn't even half over yet, though for the moment at least, I'd forgotten which one it was. I quickly, and carefully replaced the speaker back on the pole outside the window, started the car, much to the dismay of our neighbors, and then with lights off, backed out and exited the drive in theatre.

I don't know if the handful of honks from nearby cars were in tribute, or annoyance as we drove out, I didn't really think about it at the time. It was Stacy's sudden silence that worried me far more.

She lived less than twenty minutes away, but I purposely drove well below the posted speed-limit. What was worrying me now, was we were headed back to her place, a good hour or more earlier than normal. Something that would no doubt raise suspicious questions from her parents upon our arrival. And like I said earlier, I was still confused, very much so, and did the only thing I could think of to do under the circumstances. I apologized.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at me like I'd just turned inside out. "What the hell for?" She asked.

"I don't know," I said honestly, even more confused now than before. "I just am."

"You're sorry for making me cum?"

I know there were words in my mouth, they wanted to come out, but for some reason, I couldn'

Geekz And Freakz: Part 4

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 29 Apr 2026 01:23:00 +0000

Geekz And Freakz: Part 4

Thomas finds intimacy.

Based on a post by mi woodsman, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

I watched Kelly walk away, buck naked, down the hall towards the bedroom. She was back in less than a minute, with a small box in her hand, which she tossed on the coffee table. She knelt in front of me, looked me over, and gently pushed me onto my back.

"The second time you'll last much longer. Now lie back and enjoy," she said as she lay next to me.

She kissed me, deep and long, as her hand played over my chest and stomach. One leg draped over my thigh, forcing my legs slightly apart. Her touch moved lower, tracing an outline on my abdomen of my semi-hard cock. A fingertip dragged lightly down my shaft, flooding my body with electricity. Kelly looked down and watched as I became more erect under the gentle touch of her thumb and forefinger, sliding up and down the length of my cock.

Maneuvering between my legs, she kissed the base of my thick shaft. My cock twitched sharply as her tongue slid up the underside of the head. She smiled and took me in her mouth. I swelled even more until her lips stretched around my girth. When she was satisfied, she sat up, still firmly holding my pulsating phallus. With her other hand, she flipped open the little box and pulled out a little sealed pack. She bit the seal and tugged. Spitting the plastic, she simultaneously shook the contents from the packet and retrieved the latex wreath.

Kelly placed the wreath on my scepter s head, then skillfully rolled it down my fat cock, and repositioned, straddled me. Reaching down she rubbed the head in small circles against her cunt until her eyes rolled back into her head. She paused for a long time, only breathing heavily and intensely concentrating on an invisible tide which carried her to the shores of Nirvana. Coming back to lucid coherence, She let her weight settled on me and I slid in, up to the hilt. With the condom, the sensation was slightly muted, but still intense with her firm rippled cunt walls embracing my thick rod. She rode me, slowly and confidently, her body moving in this fluid dance of sex. My stamina was again overestimated. Her active spasming cunt would not tolerate my best efforts to resist. Two weeks of abstinence was not abated by just one eruption. The second blast was more euphoric than the first, just20 minutes ago. When I finished, she sank slowly to the floor.

I pulled the condom off and covered us with a blanket. The rest of the night we alternated between resting and fucking until the 3-pack of condoms were exhausted. When those were gone, we used our mouths and hands until the gray morning light crawled in through the window. Eventually we slept on the floor.

I dreamed I was lying with Kelly in my arms and I opened my eyes to find Nico standing over me, glaring at me. I jerked awake to a sunlit living room. Kelly smiled wearily up at me and kissed my sore lips. She stood and pulled me to the bathroom.

We showered, taking our time to wash and massage each other's achy body, under the hot spray. Unable to contain ourselves, we fucked up against the tile wall, as the water changed, from hot, to warm, to cool, to cold. I was shivering as Kelly finished me off with well-soaped hands. Little Tommy was now totally spent, cold, and more anti-social than my first semester. Kelly lovingly dried me off and looked with surprise and pity on my shriveled hero.

Finishing with a gentle kiss, she said; Oh, my hero. You will rise again; and I am proud to know you; You mighty king!

By the time I left, every part of me felt raw. For once I was glad Nico wasn't around for a post-game encounter.

Back to isolation.

I didn't see, or hear from Nico for another two weeks. Normally this would have sunk me emotionally, but I was initially buoyed by my night with Kelly. I was dying to talk to Kelly; but, once again, I didn't have her number or last name. Whenever possible, I took detours through her neighborhood but never spotted her. I suspected that the apartment we used, was borrowed from one of her friends. I wasn't even sure Kelley was her real name.

Whenever I thought of Nico, though; I fell into a sour mood. It was odd that someone who initially made me so happy was now the root of my pain. Her silence cut me deeply, and I eventually came to the conclusion it had to end. That was it, I was done. I sent a text to Nico, telling her I quit, or was retiring, or whatever she wanted to call it; because I was through. I couldn't do it anymore.

Nico s New Personality.

A few days later, Nico showed up at the computing lab; stomping past the long line of students waiting for a computer. End of semester projects were coming due, and finals were just around the corner; so the lab was packed. Nico looked pale and tired and agitated.

"Can I talk to you?"

I told a coworker I was taking my break, and led I Nico to an empty conference room.

"How have you been?" I asked her.

My question must have caught her off guard because she looked surprised and a little confused. "Okay, I guess. You?"

I shrugged. She went on. "This might be the last chance I get to see you, you know, this semester. Sorry I've been such a bitch, it's not fair to you." She was silent for a long time before she asked, "How did it go with Kelly?"

That was the question I was dreading most. I didn't want to lie to Nico but I didn't want to tell the truth, either. At least, not the whole truth. "It went pretty well. She seemed happy when I left." Nico nodded thoughtfully. Finally I asked, "Do you want to hear about it?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She frowned at the floor. "You really want to quit?"

"This whole thing has grown out of control. I can't do it anymore. It's not what I want."

Nico nodded but didn't argue with me like I had expected. "I guess that's that." She grew quiet, as if having an internal debate, before she asked, "How long is your break?"

"At least another ten minutes. Why?"

"I was thinking we could have one last time together before the school year ended. What do you say?"

I thought of Kelly and my immediate thought was, no. But then I realized that for the first time Nico was asking me, not telling me, and I glimpsed a hint of pleading in her eyes so I relented. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

She smiled and sat on the edge of the table. "Let's do what you want."

Another first, I stepped between her legs, then slipped my hand under her skirt, and wasn't surprised to find she wasn't wearing panties. She was swollen and wet and ready, as if she had been working herself over just before she got to the lab.

Nico undid my pants and pushed them down. I expected she was going to give me a blowjob or handjob, but instead she scooted to the edge of the table, grabbed my turgid cock, and rubbed it against her wet slit. After some initial resistance I eased in. Just like that, I was fucking Nico, and it was then, I realized nothing bad was going to happen to her. It was incredibly liberating to let go of the irrational fear.

She was tight, incredibly tight. Nico lay back on the big table, pulled up her skirt and fingered her clit. I watched my cock sink into her swollen cunt. It reappeared, wet and shiny, stretching and pulling her nether lips. I paused with the tip barely inside her and held it there. Her strumming fingers flashed over her clit. When I couldn't wait any longer, I plunged back into her.

All those months of anxious frustration, I poured into fucking her, channeling it through my cock. Nico fucked me back with equal abandon, her feet locked together behind my ass; spurring me on, her fingers flying, her cunt squeezing and convulsing.

She sat up suddenly. Then she climbed onto me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and wrapping her legs around my waist; and bounced her petite body on my cock.

I grabbed her ass with both hands to support her and marveled for a moment how light she was. Nico hungrily met every one of my thrusts, her breath hitching with every stroke, until I grunted, "I'm going to come."

"Then do it," she hissed through clenched teeth. Her body moved desperately against mine and our rhythm became fractured and erratic as I erupted. I stumbled back against the wall and waited as her bobbing slowed to stop.

She slipped off and adjusted her skirt while I dressed. "Goodbye, Thomas," she said a bit sadly, turning away quickly towards the exit. That's when I noticed she was wearing the same exact outfit as the first night we met. Before I could call to her, she was gone.

A Summer of Change.

I didn't hear from Nico until the end of July. I was living at my parents' for the summer and received a small padded envelope in the mail. Inside were a USB stick and a brief note from Nico:

Thomas, There's a video message for you on the stick.

The video is for you and only you and it requires a password for you to access.

The password is a simple one-syllable word I taught you this past year.

Nico.

In the relative seclusion of my room, I plugged the USB stick into my laptop. When the dialogue box appeared, asking for the password. I hesitated momentarily, before typing in: cunt.

The video player started up and there was Nico looking out at me from my screen. I couldn't help but smile when I saw those green eyes but the smile was short-lived as I noticed Nico was pale and drawn, she wasn't wearing any makeup, and her hair was now a more natural auburn color and rather unkempt. The wall behind her bed was plain white with no decorations. The vibe was definitely institutional. Frowning, I clicked Play.

"Hi, Thomas. There's no easy way to say this, so here it is: The reason you've received this video is that I am dead."

My vision darkened, the walls and ceiling closed in on me. I forced myself to take deep slow breaths, until the pressure lifted.

On-screen, Nico was blinking back tears, and looking away from the camera. After a minute she took a shaky breath, and went on.

"There's so much I want to tell you and there's so much I need to tell you. I owe you the truth and more.

"I have a type of brain tumor known as a glioblastoma multiforme that is rather malignant and was rather advanced when it was found over a year ago. The location of the tumor made surgical treatment impossible. I did have radiative therapy but it was ineffective. Even if that did work it was only going to buy me a few extra months. The prognosis was grim: Most people in my condition die within six months; a small percentage make it to twelve. I'm on month fourteen and counting so I feel like I've won some sort of cosmic sweepstakes.

"After I was diagnosed I had a choice. I could either spend my remaining time at home with my family, enduring countless trips to the hospital for treatment that might buy me a short amount of time or I could go back to school and try and live a normal life.

"I chose life. I was nineteen and I wanted to be normal or, at least, pretend to be for the little time I had left.

"Knowing when I was going to die, changed me. I saw how much pain my condition was causing my family and I wanted to spare others from ever feeling that. So I decided I wouldn't let anyone new get close to me. Turns out, that wasn't so easy.

"I also began experiencing all these dark urges. I didn't want to get involved with anyone, but I began to have sexual cravings. I was able to resist them for a while, but then they overwhelmed me. They still do, but now I don't have the strength to act on them."

I noticed, as she spoke, her left eyelid was blinking slightly slower than her right. There was also a slurring of her words but I didn't know if that was from the tumor or possibly from medication.

"Maybe I was feeling lonely. Maybe it was the fact that you treated me decently in spite of my appearance. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it was nothing. Whatever it was, when I caught you checking out my body I had the undeniable urge to suck your cock. I figured I would jump you, have a good time and we would go our separate ways. But you really surprised me. I tried to forget about you afterwards but it was impossible. You once called me your drug. Well, you were my drug and I was hooked after only one time.

"Despite my vow I went back to see if you were really that special. You were. God help me, I was falling for you but I still didn't want you to fall for me. That's why I treated you like shit. Since I couldn't stay away from you I hoped I could drive you away. And while a little piece of me died every time I mistreated you, I simply can't imagine how I made you feel. For that I am truly sorry.

"My fucking project was a ploy for you to see there are better people out there than me. I was careful to set you up with girls I knew you would like and who would treat you well. With each new girl I was afraid you would leave me, but you proved to be loyal to a fault and that made me love you even more.

"Thomas, I love you. I think you love me, too, or at least, you once loved me. I'm sorry I never got to hear you say it."

"I love you, Nico," I said to the screen. Nico started to say something but stumbled over her words and started swearing. She got stuck on the word fuck, repeating it over and over for more than a minute before there was a break in the video. When the video resumed night had fallen in Nico's room.

"The seizures are growing more frequent and getting worse. I have headaches and I'm so tired all time. All I want to do is sleep. My short-term memory doesn't work so well nowadays so I had to go back and watch what I had recorded.

"So, I wanted you and I didn't want to hurt you, but I did hurt you. That day in the coffee shop you were incredibly brave in trying to tell me how you felt. In my panic I lashed out and I'm afraid I may have permanently damaged our relationship. The next several weeks were especially bad for seizures and tremors. I ignored your calls and texts because I couldn't think coherently and I didn't want you to see me like that.

"When I felt better I went to the computing center, saw the pain etched on your face and I knew I had finally succeeded in driving you away. I couldn't let you go, though, and I had to have you one last time. Maybe a more accurate way to say it would be 'one first time.' Despite all my blunt talk about sex I was no more experienced than you, in anything. I learned as I went along, just like you. In the end, you were my first and my last. You were my only."

Nico's head began jerking slightly to the side, her eyes unfocused. The jerking continued unabated until the video cut to a sunlit room. Now there was a soft beeping of a monitor in the background. Nico's left eye was filled with blood and the pupil fixed and dilated.

"There's so much I want to say but I don't have time for. I'm afraid if I don't wrap this up soon I won't be able to edit it and then you'll have to watch long stretches of me swearing and twitching.

"I wish I had done so much differently. I should have treated you better. I should have loved you openly and, if you loved me in return, I should have spent every possible moment with you. My intentions were to fully live what remained of my life and I failed in the worst possible way. I denied you. I denied love. I denied life."

Tears brimmed in her eyes once more. Several minutes passed before she composed herself.

"This is my last will and testament to you, Thomas. I want you to find love and happiness. I know I can't guarantee it, but I might be able to give you a push in the right direction. Kelly told me about that night, so I know how it touched her. You two shared a beautiful moment; and I have to admit I'm jealous. Promise me you'll see her again, if only just to talk with her. She'll be living at this address in the fall so she should be easy to find."

Kelly's name and address appeared on the screen.

"Find her, talk to her and see where it goes from there. Maybe you're right for each other. Maybe not. But you have to find out.

"I don't know what lies ahead for me besides Death. Even though I've spent the past year mentally preparing I'm suddenly scared. Death is a chasm bigger than the Grand Canyon but instead of being filled with beauty it's filled only with darkness. Death is a black void stretching out before me. I'm at the edge now and about to step off into the abyss. Will there be a bottom? Will there be another side?

"Is there a soul after Death? I hope; certainly hope so, because I want to keep watch over you. If I can, I'll come back and haunt you, but in a nice way. I'll come to you in your dreams, and fuck your brains out. I swear I will."

Her lower lip was trembling now. With a shaky voice she finished with,

"Goodbye, Thomas. I love you."

Seasons In The Sun.

Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die.

When all the birds are singing in the sky.

Now that the spring is in the air.

Pretty girls are everywhere.

Think of me and I'll be there.

We had joy, we had fun.

We had seasons in the sun.

But the hills that we climbed.

Were just seasons out of time.

The video ended. I closed the lid of the laptop, pulled the USB stick out and hugged it to my chest. I curled up on my bed and wept for a very long time.

Back on campus.

At the end of August I was back on campus sitting on a low brick wall outside a modest apartment building. It was only ten in the morning but the sun was already beating down and baking the pavement. I sat in the shade of a maple tree and waited. Eventually Kelly emerged from the building, wearing a white t-shirt and bright orange shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her summer tan gave her a healthy glow. She was as lovely as I remembered.

When she saw me, she did a double take and a smile broke out on her face. "Hey, Thomas. Good to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, actually." I said with confident honesty.

Her smile grew.

"Do you have a minute? Kelly, I need to tell you something."

She sat next to me on the wall, her thigh lightly touching mine.

"I don't know if you heard but Nico passed away this summer."

Kelly's face clouded and she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know. Brain tumor."

"How well did you know her?"

"I guess about as well as anybody did, outside of her family. We lived together the past two years. She was my best friend."

I blinked in surprise and took a moment to digest that. "You were best friends and lived together at Mary Hall?"

"Our first year, yeah. That's how we met. We rented an apartment last year. That's where you and I met."

I closed my eyes for a moment and thought about how much I didn't know about Nico. Finally I said, "Nico told me she lived at Mother Mary."

"Um, yeah, that was so that guys couldn't find her after, you know."

"Were there many guys?" I asked quietly.

Geekz And Freakz: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 01:22:00 +0000

Geekz And Freakz: Part 3

A Weakness Becomes A Strength..

Based on a post by mi woodsman, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

The intervening weeks had done nothing make it fade the way dreams do.

The unceasing obsessing took a toll on me and my thoughts started spiraling uncontrollably. I became desperate enough to take my anti-anxiety pills out of the medicine cabinet and hold the bottle in my hand for close to an hour, staring at it. I hated those pills as they made me see the world through a sort of veil and I always had the distinct feeling I was missing something. I never felt like I was all there when I was on my meds. What saved me in the end was I thought of Nico's eyes and a calming peace came over me. The pressure slowly lifted off my chest and I put the bottle back without taking one pill.

I finally received a short text from her just after midnight: Happy fucking new year. Short and to the point, just like Nico.

On my second night back at school I was working the graveyard shift at the computer lab and since classes didn't start until the next day I was the only one working. I surfed the web aimlessly, trying to ward off sleep. It was after two in the morning when Nico came in wearing a leather miniskirt and matching leather jacket, her hair was spiked into a Mohawk. Fishnet stockings, black fingernail polish, heavy eyeliner and black lipstick completed her outfit. Whenever she moved a dozen zippers on her jacket jangled softly.

"I'd like to apply for a job," she said as she leaned over the counter. I smiled at her and handed her the form which she filled out in a matter of seconds. "How about an interview?" she asked as she gave back the application.

I shook my head. "Can't. I'm the only one working and I have to stay at the desk. You'll have to come back some other time."

"Ok then, let me back there, I want to sit with you."

"Sorry, you know the rules."

"Come on, there's only one fucking' guy here. Who's he going to tell? Let me back there and you can pretend to be training me on how to turn on a computer or something." I frowned at her, trying to think of a good reason not to. Nico shrugged, sat up on the counter, swung her legs over and hopped down into the workstation before I could stop her. I shot a glance at the student sitting at the far side of the room but he hadn't noticed.

Nico sat in a chair next to mine and lazily spun back and forth. "How was your break?" she asked. "Did you miss me?"

I felt my ears burn. "It was ok and, yes, I missed you."

"That's sweet. How much cunt did you eat?"

"I had none."

"Sounds kinky. Who was the nun?" I shook my head in mock frustration trying to mask the laughter I felt inside. Nico leaned back in the chair. "When do you get off?" The question sounded mostly innocent.

"Not until six."

She frowned and looked around the lab. "I can see why you'd like working a shift like this, what with your condition and all." There was a bit of venom behind that last bit and it stung a little. Her face suddenly brightened. "Hey, it looks like we may have another client, a friend of Amanda's. I'll try to set it up where there aren't a whole lot of people so you won't, you know, freak out."

"I don't know," I said, "I'm not sure I want to."

"This is about helping you meet other women and sharing your gift with them. Don't you know how it made Amanda feel? She's still walking around a smile glued to her face and she has you to thank for it. Doesn't that make you feel good inside, knowing how you helped someone?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I admitted.

"Look, we're starting to build some buzz. We need to strike while the iron's hot. There's been some of word of mouth about you."

"Word of mouth," I repeated. I turned the phrase over and over in my head, liking it more each time. "Good one."

"Besides, didn't you like the post-game between us?" I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I know you enjoyed that. So, why not do it again?"

I could think of one big reason why I didn't want to but I was afraid to say it loud. Instead I swallowed it down and said, "Ok, I'm in."

Her smile lit up her green eyes. "Cool. Show me your right hand."

Slightly thrown by her sudden change in subject, I did as she asked, although in retrospect it was more of a command than a question. I held out my hand, my palm towards her. She leaned in, studying my hand closely before delicately folding in three of my fingers and my thumb until just my index finger was pointing up. This she took in her mouth, wetting it with her saliva.

I watched, fascinated, as she slowly extracted my finger, her teeth dragging lightly over the whole length. With her hand she guided mine up under her skirt and my moistened finger slid easily into her. I could hear how wet she was and I could feel how hot she was. Nico moved my hand back forth, silently masturbating for the next several minutes with a wicked grin on her face.

When she finally withdrew it I could see her juices glistening in the cold fluorescent lights. I started to bring it up to my mouth but she stopped my hand and sucked my finger into her mouth. With great gusto she fellated my finger in the same manner she had used on another part of my body. My cock strained against my jeans as I watched my finger disappear and reappear between those black lips. With a smile and a light kiss she let my hand fall into my lap.

The lone student had gathered his things and was approaching the counter. With my erection I was in no condition to stand but fortunately Nico jumped up and handed him his ID. "Thanks for coming in. Have a good night," she said pleasantly. He murmured a goodnight and left.

Nico leaned back against the desk. "Now, when do you get off?" This time, the question was definitely loaded.

"Six," I teased, pretending to be clueless.

"No fucking imagination," she muttered, shaking her head. The next instant she was kneeling before me, unbuckling my belt and undoing my zipper. As it turns out, it was only a matter of minutes before I got off.

Nico, on the other hand, got off repeatedly over the next hour. I have to admit it was the best shift I have ever worked in my life.

Sara.

Our second client was a petite, mousy girl with dirty blond hair. We met at her apartment where she was waiting with Amanda. Amanda hugged me tightly when we walked in and introduced me to her friend Sara who only managed a barely audible greeting. Sara took me to her bedroom while Amanda and Nico talked in the living room.

Sara and I faced each other for several awkward moments in the darkness. She stood suddenly on her tiptoes and gave me a brief, nervous kiss before shoving me hard onto the bed. Quick as a cat she was on me, peppering my face and neck with hard kisses. I tried to slow her down and assume control but her movements were frantic and unpredictable. Before I knew it she had my shirt off and was wriggling out of her clothes.

Sara crawled up my body and settled her crotch on my head. She ground her sex against my mouth, the pressure so great it felt like my jaw was going to dislocate. In desperation I tongued her clit hard and she came with a shudder, drenching me in her juices. I bathed her with long licks from the very bottom of her cunt up to the hard nub of her clit. Sara relaxed and gently rode my face to several more orgasms. When she was finished she knelt beside me and licked my face.

"Can I touch you?" Sara asked meekly as I stood by the bed tucking in my shirt.

I nodded, and she reached out with a tentative hand to feel my crotch. She rubbed and squeezed me for a minute before asking, "Can I see it?"

I shrugged and undid my pants, exposing myself. She stared at it, wide-eyed, and made several attempts to reach for it but always pulled her hand back. "It's ok," I reassured her.

Sara steeled herself before taking me in her hand, running her fingers up and down the length before lingering for several minutes over the tip. Her thumb and forefinger rubbed the head, smearing the pre-cum and making it slick. She tugged on my cock, her pace increasing with each passing minute until her hand was a blur. Her head swayed towards me, her lips open and I thought she was going to take me in her mouth. Instead, she gave me a firm squeeze and turned away to gather her jeans. I was so close to orgasm.

When we rejoined the others in the living room, Nico and I made our goodbyes. Sara whispered something to Amanda who raised her eyebrows in surprise. Amanda hugged me goodbye, this time pressing her thigh firmly against my crotch for several long seconds. As soon as the door was closed behind us shrieks of laughter emanated from the apartment. Nico nudged me and said, "You did that. You created that joy." I smiled and stuffed my hands in my pockets to hide my erection. "Come on," Nico said, "let's go back to your room and you can tell me all about it."

Spring Breakout.

We had a few more clients in January and February and by early March we were averaging almost one a week. Each girl was different and each girl was special in their own way. My favorites were the introverts like Sara who couldn't speak in an audible voice or look me in the eye but once we were alone transformed into a feral ball of lust. These encounters were exciting, unpredictable, terrifying, and draining. Their energy and enthusiasm was always matched and sometimes exceeded by Nico, as if she was somehow competing against them.

Only once did I back out; and that was because the girl was falling down drunk when we showed up at her place. Three days later we met again, and everything worked out great. By late March, I had been with more girls than any guy I knew. Nico's plan was working just like she planned: The girls were happy, I was meeting new people, and Nico and I both enjoyed what we had termed 'the debriefing.' The only problem was that although I enjoyed being with these girls, I began to feel hollow.

I wanted the emptiness to be filled by Nico but, emotionally, she was still keeping me at arm's length. In the afterglow of her orgasms her defenses would sometimes break down and she would let me in a little but those moments were rare and fleeting.

Nico s Oral Exam.

One spring day we were deep in the bowels of the main library where I told her about the latest client. Without warning two slickened fingers were forced between my lips. The taste of her made me hard in an instant. Unable to control myself, I dropped to my knees and reached under her skirt. In my haste to remove her panties I tore them, making Nico gasp. I lifted her skirt and saw her nectar welling up along her slit.

When I parted her sex, a large drop rolled slowly down. When I plunged my tongue into her, she moaned and cradled my head. When she came, she screamed quietly through pursed lips.

I stood and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Our part of the library was as quiet as a tomb; apart from Nico's panting. She stood there and took a moment to look around, to be sure we were still alone; then reached out to squeeze the bulge in my pants, as she kissed me.

Squeezing turned to rubbing, rubbing turned to unfastening, unfastening turned to stroking. By the time the kiss ended her hand was deep down the front of my briefs.

Nico pushed my jeans and briefs down past my buttocks, and let gravity pull them slowly to the floor. We both looked down and watched as she stroked me, the deep-red head of my cock appearing and disappearing in her pale fist. She kissed me again, her tongue probing my mouth before running lightly over my lips. She smiled and we both looked down again to see clear fluid seeping from the tip. There was now a quiet wet sound keeping time with each pass of her hand over the head. I swelled in her hand.

She knelt and kissed just the tip, rubbing the head lightly over her lips like an obscene lip gloss. I shivered. Kiss followed kiss, on my fleshy head; each kiss longer and more sensual than the last.

I watched her make out with my cock; her eyes closed, her lips shiny with my precum, her tongue now integral to the kisses, and wetting my head with her saliva; and a heaviness grew in my balls. She had not yet taken me in her mouth and I was close to coming.

As my body tensed, her kisses grew more frequent, and more open mouth; teasing my orgasm to the surface. Occasionally the tip would slip into her mouth, and her tongue would suckle. Nico toyed with me; the way a cat toys with a mouse, making me tremble. When I was at the limit of self-control, she paused and looked up.

The pleading and desperation, etched on my face, made her smile. Her eyes locked on mine, she slowly and deliberately kissed the tip. A tremor ran through me. With the next kiss, her lips wrapped around the head and her tongue flicked. A second tremor ran through me. The light in her eyes told me how much she enjoyed inflicting this exquisite agony upon me. Nico took me a little deeper, and dragged her teeth gently over the ridge of the head, sending yet another tremor through my body.

My cock slowly reemerged until she was again kissing just the tip with slow, deliberate, and exaggerated motions. Her full lips opened wider and closed slower until the head of my cock rested on her lower lip pointing at her waiting, wanting mouth. Her tongue danced over my knob, and I hissed through gritted teeth. My cock twitched and I saw my creamy jizz, jet into her mouth. Her lips wrapped around my crown, locking tight to the shaft, just beyond the ridge of my swollen glans; and sucked gently, massaging the frenulum; slowly, until I was spent.

She reached down and secured the waistbands of my shorts and pants. As she stood, she pulled up my pants, tucked me in and zipped me up. Nico gave a little shrug and practically skipped away. I followed, at a slightly slower pace.

The Harsh Coffee Confrontation.

We ended up at a nearby coffee shop. She ordered an herbal tea for her and a large orange juice for me. We sat at a corner table, looking out at the street, while enjoying our drinks. Nico sipped her tea, and I just shook my head at her.

"What?"

"Our 'behavior' was a little too public and risky," I said.

"Perhaps, but didn't the risk add to the enjoyment?" she countered.

"Yes," I admitted, reluctantly; "but we should have been more cautious. We could have been arrested."

"You were a willing participant," she observed. "You could have stopped."

I stared out at the people passing by on the sidewalk, mostly students laden with heavy backpacks. Could I have stopped? I thought back, to moment she stuck her fingers in my mouth; and realized that, no, I wasn't able to. Once I had tasted her, I had to have more. Just thinking about it was making me hard again.

"You could have stopped, right?" she repeated. She watched me over the rim of her cup. As she sipped, I could see she already knew the answer, by the way her mouth was curling up at the corners. I shook my head in response, and drank down the rest of my juice. "Yeah, I thought so. I've seen the way your eyes glaze over, once you know you're going down on me. A part of you goes off to some faraway place, until you're finished."

"So, does that make me an addict?"

"Yeah. And I guess that would make me your drug," she added with a devious grin.

I thought for a moment. Drug wasn't the word I would have used but it would do for now. "More like, you're my drug and my pusher."

Her grin faded and an odd look came over her. I couldn't tell if she was disturbed by my comment. I don't think she knew, either. I watched her bite her lip as she mulled it over before I said what had been weighing on me the past couple of months.

"I like being with you." I bravely blurted out.

"No shit. I can tell by the way you come in my mouth." Two chairs away, a spoon clattered noisily to the table. The girl who dropped it was straining to watch us, out of the corner of her eye. Nico turned to the girl and confided, "You know how it is, when you're sucking a guy off, and you can feel his body tense as he tries to hold back, and that moment, just as he explodes, you feel momentarily afraid that he'll never stop. With Thomas, I never want it to stop. I want to drown in his creamy seed. And his cock is so big I can barely wrap my lips around it."

Nico turned to me. "Thomas, show her how big your cock is." The girl gave a squeak, picked up her backpack and hurried away.

"Why do you have to be mean like that?" I said, feeling empathy for the timid freshman lass.

"Oh, please," Nico said rolling her eyes. "I did her a favor. She's hurrying back to her apartment or dorm, and when she gets there, she's going to lock her bedroom door, jump into bed, and jam as many fingers as possible, up her tight little cunt. And as she's frigging herself to a glorious climax, she'll be thinking about your big, fat cock; and how it would feel in her mouth; or maybe her cunt. Come to think of it, I also did you a favor."

I shifted nervously and leaned in, lowering my voice. "Anyways, what I mean is, I like being with you, more than anyone else. I want to be with you, and only you."

Her green eyes became hard ice in an instant. The dagger of her stare pierced me through the heart, and I died a little inside. "I can't have a boyfriend," she recited her mantra.

"This is absurd. Considering our situation, we're practically boyfriend and girlfriend, just not in a traditional sense." I tried appealing to social norms.

Nico glowered at me from across the table.

I continued pleading; "Is it your parents? If so, I'm willing to meet them right now; and you know how I am around new people."

"I'm not going to discuss it!" Her words had acquired a razor's edge, and I knew her next words were going to cut me deeply. We sat in stony silence, as she finished her tea. Then Nico slammed her cup hard on the table, whispered, "Fuck you!" and grabbed her backpack and stalked out.

I didn't bother to follow, because I knew she didn't want to talk to me. I waited a few minutes before leaving, turning in the direction opposite of Nico's. My insides were roiling with doubt and despair. Had I ruined a good thing, something so strange and unique that if I told anyone they wouldn't believe me? Was the damage irreversible?

Nico punished me by not returning my calls and texts for almost a week. When she did finally contact me; she made no mention of what I had said. Instead, she had set me up with another client for the following Saturday. Nico also told me she wouldn't be there, as she had to go home for the weekend.

I took it to mean she was still mad. The lead weight in my stomach grew heavier and sank lower. I wasn't interested in seeing a client, but I really didn't have a choice. Nico expected me to go, and of course, I always did what she said.

Kelly.

Promptly at nine, I put my game face on and knocked on the door of an off-campus apartment on the south side of town. The client, Kelly, had wavy, shoulder-length strawberry-blond hair, a round face, and large blue eyes. Grey sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt masked the shape of her body. All I knew was that she was only a few inches shorter than me. Kelly smiled nervously, biting her lower lip, as she invited me in. I kicked off my shoes and followed her down a long narrow hallway to the living room, furnished with the typical cheap rental unit furniture.

"Have a seat," she said pointing to the couch. "Would you like a drink?"

Normally, I would have declined but since I was in a sour mood I figured a drink or two might help. "Yeah, sure."

Kelly stood on her tiptoes and looked in a kitchen cabinet. "Looks like we have tequila; or tequila."

She pulled out a bottle and held it up. "I recommend the tequila." She returned with the bottle, a couple of glasses, a small bowl of lemon wedges, and a salt shaker; and knelt at the coffee table opposite of me. "Have you done tequila shots before?" I shook my head

Geekz And Freakz: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 25 Apr 2026 01:21:00 +0000

Geekz And Freakz: Part 2

His Obsessive Dedication Gets Tapped Into.

Based on a post by mi woodsman, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

Nico stared at me as I finished my coffee. It had grown cold but I couldn't bear to leave it unfinished. Finally, she said, "Back in a moment," and walked off to the restrooms. A minute later she was back and dropped a ball of green material in my lap as she sat back down. "Feel it," she said, "Feel how wet you've made me."

The crotch of her panties was soaked and I fought the urge to bring them up to my nose so I could breathe her in. I smiled, checked the time on my cell and said, "Come on, I'll walk you back."

A silence enveloped us as walked across campus. She was obviously deep in thought and I couldn't get any words out of my mouth. At her lobby I tried to give her panties back but she stuffed them in my front pants pocket, her fingers brushing lightly along my semi-rigid cock. Without a word she went inside.

I was walking up the steps of my dorm when I received a text from her: It s your fault I m masterb8ing now.

I laughed and sent back, Hope your roomie doesn't mind.

By the time I climbed the stairs to my floor I got back, She s studying w back to me. Now shut up I m trying to concentr8.

Over the next several weeks we saw each other quite a bit, although somewhat randomly. Nico would drop by unannounced and I was never quite able to predict when she would visit. I could see her three or four consecutive nights and then there would be up to five days before she showed up again. Our trysts were brief and to the point, consisting of oral sex and handjobs. Nico was always in charge.

Once she walked into my room and shut the door. I looked up from my homework and started to speak but she stopped me with an upraised hand. Her hair was sporting a bright purple streak on the right side. Nico unbuttoned the raincoat that came down to her knees and let it drop to the floor. Of course, she was naked underneath. Her pubic hair had a matching purple streak.

I watched, breathless, as her hand delved between her legs. I could hear the squelching as her fingers penetrated her sex. I could see the glistening flesh as she parted the outer lips. I swear I could smell her from across the room. Her other hand tugged mercilessly on her nipples making them red and swollen. The entire time she masturbated she kept her eyes on me. After she came, she pulled her coat on, buttoned it up and left. She never said a word.

The following visit she taught me how to pleasure her with just my fingers.

I thought I was the luckiest guy on campus. Nico was an incredibly sexual creature who was teaching me so much. I was amazed at how much pleasure she could provide with just her hands and mouth. More importantly, she wanted me to please her with my mouth and fingers. I fed off her orgasms.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful but I wanted more. Even though I very much wanted to have sex with her, the topic of intercourse never came up. I assumed she never suggested it because it was some sort of line that couldn't be crossed; If we fucked I would be her boyfriend and she couldn't have that. I never brought up the topic, because I had the idea that if we had sex, Nico would become seriously ill and die.

I know that sounds crazy, but I can't help these kinds of thoughts from occurring. Once I have them, I obsess over them, making the fear palpable. So in order to protect Nico, we couldn't have sex. I never told her this. I wish I had, but I never did.

Employment.

One Saturday night I was working a shift at the central campus computing lab. A handful of students were well spread out in the lab, making for a rather dull night. That's the way I liked it as I could get my homework done and get paid for it. My coworker and I sat in the Pit, an ironic name for the raised circular workspace overlooking the lab. The Pit was also a convenient barrier between me and the students. Nico walked up and leaned over the counter at me. "How late you working tonight?" she asked in a hushed tone. The purple streak in her hair was now bright green. I wondered briefly if her pubic hair matched.

"Until 2am. Sorry."

She frowned and looked around the mostly empty lab before asking, "How many of them do you think are watching porn right now and mentally frigging themselves?" I shot a look at my coworker but he had headphones on and was engrossed in a movie. I moved away from him and Nico followed along the outer perimeter. "There aren't that many people here but I bet at least one," she persisted.

I shook my head. "Doubtful. People tend to do that when they're alone in their room."

She pointed at a monitor in front of me. "Can you use that computer to see what they're doing?"

"Yeah, but it's our policy not to."

"Let me back there, I want to take a look."

"Sorry, employees only. They have a very strict rule about that."

"Then I'd like an application, please," she pestered. I sighed and pulled an application from a file and handed it to her along with a pen; I figured it would be easier than arguing with her. She looked it over and asked, "Who does the interview?"

"Tonight I would do the pre-interview but a full-time staffer would do the final."

Nico smiled wickedly, put the pen to her lips and sucked lightly on it. "I think there is at least one person here watching porn this very moment but you think not. We should bet on it," she suggested.

"What would we bet?"

"If I win, I want you to seriously consider a proposal. If you win --"

"You have to tell me why you can't have a boyfriend," I finished.

She frowned. "Not very imaginative. Alright, if that's what you want." We shook hands and she pointed at the computer. "You do whatever typing you need to do while I fill this out." I took me less than a minute to launch a program and click a few parameters to get the answer. In less than that time Nico had completed the application and was holding it out to me. I checked to see if anyone was watching before I turned the monitor towards her, defeated. "Ha!" she exclaimed. "I knew it!"

Shaking my head, I turned the monitor back and closed the program. Three people were surfing porn sites. I took the application and asked, "So, what's your proposal?"

"I'd like my pre-interview first, then we can talk."

"Alright." I started to read over her application but she protested.

"I believe I have an expectation of privacy during an interview. Is there a room we can use?"

I let my coworker know I was doing a pre-interview. He nodded without ever looking up from his movie. Nico and I went to a small conference room and sat at the table. I started through the prepared list of b. s. questions.

"So, Miss Dewpot," I read the name she wrote on the application, "why do you want to work at this lab?"

"Well, I've always found computers sexy, what with all those big hard drives and such."

I made a check mark. "And what are your best qualities?"

She looked up at the ceiling. "I'm loyal, punctual, and I don't take shit from anybody. Also, I give a pretty mean blowjob and have been told my cunt tastes like the nectar of the gods. Your words, not mine," she reminded me.

"All admirable qualities," I agreed. "What's you're greatest weakness?"

"If someone gives me shit I hurt them. Sometimes I end up in jail." I laughed and shook my head. "Did I pass the first round?" she asked.

"I'm afraid we can't hire you, Miss Dewpot. According to your application you have a PhD so you're over-qualified." I added, "And you've been convicted of a felony but you neglected to say what for."

"I always knew I would make it someday," she smirked. She stood and came around the table and sat on the edge right in front of me. She took the application from my hands and tore it up, letting the pieces fall one by one from her fingers. Then Nico fixed me with those green eyes of hers. "I'm going to propose something that I want you to take your time thinking about before giving me an answer and I'd like you to not interrupt me with any questions until I'm done."

She waited a moment. I sat silently so she continued. "You love to lick my cunt." It was a statement and not a question but I nodded anyway. "Now I've been eaten out by half a dozen people and it is my unbiased opinion you are far better than any of them and that includes a couple of lesbians." I opened my mouth to comment but shut it quickly. "It was a phase," she explained.

"Anyway, the other night I was having a pow-wow with several girls, and the topic invariably turned to sex. You may not know this, but sometimes when women talk to other women about sex, it can be in a very explicit manner. Anyway, the talk came around to oral, and listening to these girls, I realized they've never experienced anything like I have with you. It made me a little sad for them and made me feel a bit selfish.

Self Employment.

"As I've said before, I can't have a boyfriend but I feel like I've effectively taken you off the market. You should be out there meeting girls and going to town, or more to the point, downtown, but you spend a lot of your free time with me." A dark look must have passed over my face because she added quickly, "Don't worry, I still want to hang out with you and suck that beautiful cock of yours. And I want you to keep on sticking your tongue up my love hole," she added. I relaxed and waited for her to go on.

"The other problem is that you're anti-social. Maybe that's what attracted me to you, initially, since I'm a fellow outcast. So, add all that up and it's a dilemma. I want to keep hanging out with you, I want to help you, and I want to help my fellow woman. So, what's the solution?"

I shrugged as I didn't have the slightest clue as to where she was going with this. "To be honest, I didn't know either until last night when I was lying in bed, masturbating while imagining your face buried in my crotch. The answer was right there, staring me in the cunt." She paused and smiled. "I propose that I set you up with girls who are in dire need of a good licking!"

I sat and stared at her for a very long time. My mouth was possibly hanging open. Finally, I asked, "Can I talk now?" She nodded. "You want to pimp me out?"

Nico shook her head vigorously. "No, of course not, no money will change hands, although I will get a piece of the action."

"What do you mean?"

"Afterwards, you tell me, in glorious Technicolor, all the sordid details. It's a win-win-win for everyone. You meet new girls, they have the best orgasms of their lives, your fame spreads and I get off afterwards."

"Sounds like everyone will get off. Will I?"

She smiled and placed her hand on my shoulder. "Silly boy! Of course you do. It's part of the 'after.' Now," she slid off the table and stood up, "I want you to think about this and tell me your answer tomorrow night. Pick me up at six and take me out to dinner."

"Why should I take you to dinner?"

"It's only fair," she said over her shoulder as she walked out. "I'm a convicted felon with a doctorate. I can't get a job in this economy."

I sat in that room for a long time and pondered on what kind of sociopath I had gotten mixed up with.

I didn't get any sleep that night. I simply lay there and thought about her proposal. It was both terrifying and titillating. I would have to put myself out there and meet new people. On the other hand I longed to know how other girls tasted. Would they be like Nico or does each woman have their own unique flavor? From the porn I've seen I knew vaginas came in all shapes and shades but would they taste different? Would some girls be clean shaven? I oscillated between panic and arousal all night.

Of course I said yes, because that's what Nico wanted. I told her the next night as we were finishing up our meal at a nice Italian place near the edge of campus. But I also had some concerns. "Will there be any ground rules?" I asked.

"Like what."

"I don't know." I looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. All the closest tables were engrossed in their own conversations. "Do I get right of refusal?"

Nico nodded. "Of course. If you feel uncomfortable or get some weird vibe off a client you can call it off."

I was appalled. "Did you just say client?"

"Maybe trick is a better term?" She watched with amusement as my face turned crimson red. Our waitress dropped off the check and was about to say something but hustled away when she saw me. It took me a minute to realize Nico was toying with me. "Yeah," she said, finishing the last of her soda, "I'm just fucking with you."

"Someday I'll learn," I muttered as I left enough cash to cover the check and the tip. I looked across the table at her. "Walk you back to your dorm?" I offered.

On the walk back she veered us through a graveyard, saying it was a shortcut. The sun had set minutes before but we still had enough light to pick our way along the paths. There, deep in the middle of the graveyard, she sucked me off as I leaned against a huge headstone. When I was finished she forced me onto the ground and straddled my face. The dry, dormant grass scratched the back of my neck as she writhed above me. And, yes, her pubic hair was streaked with green.

Open For Business.

Over two weeks went by before we got our first bite. In the meantime, I had my doubts but Nico kept reassuring me her project was on track and that she was carefully baiting the water. She didn't want to be too pushy and scare potential clients away. Instead, she casually dropped little morsels and waited for them to come to her. Even then, she was demure and gave scant details, feeding them just enough scraps to whet their appetite. She knew she had one hooked when a normally reserved girl came to her room and asked explicit questions. The girl's eyes became bigger and bigger with each answer until she broke and asked if Nico could set her up with me.

Nico told me all this while sitting on my lap one night and grinding her crotch against mine. I was naked and she was fully clothed. "I've arranged for you two to meet Saturday night at a house party down on Oak Street." The pleasure I had been experiencing was offset suddenly by the sick churning of my stomach and my whole body stiffened. "Relax," she said, rolling her hips in slow, delicious circles. "I'll be there to introduce the two of you. You'll meet, say hi, and then you'll take her somewhere quiet where you'll shove your tongue into her cunt until she comes."

The feel of her body rubbing against mine made me relax bit by bit until I began to thrust back. Our bodies rocked in time. Those beautiful green eyes watched me intently as my breath started catching in my throat. I reached between us and unsnapped her jeans but she shook her head. "I need you hungry and on you're A-game Saturday night. You're on a diet until then." She buried her head in my neck and continued dry humping me.

Her hips ground against me in short, sharp, rapid thrusts, the intense friction building to a breaking point. My body trembled and tensed and I grunted with every thrust. Sudden warmth flooded my crotch as I came. Nico drove on, trying in vain to reach orgasm but eventually slowing to a stop as I softened under her.

She stood up and fingered the wet spot on her jeans, satisfied. "I'm going back to my room to masturbate. Maybe this time I'll get my whole fist in. I'll see you Saturday night." Before I could say goodnight she was gone. I spent the next hour touching things on my desk to ensure Nico's safety.

Amanda.

By the weekend I was a nervous wreck and could hardly keep any food down. The anxiety of meeting someone new and the pressure I felt to perform were wreaking havoc on my body. On Saturday evening Nico found me curled up on my bed. She stroked my head and slowly coaxed me first to a sitting, then to a standing position until she had me walking out the door. We held hands all the way there, me gripping hers the way a drowning man grips a lifeline. At the steps to the house she pried her hand from mine, smiled and said, "Relax. You'll do great."

The party wasn't as crowded as I feared although it was relatively early. Nico approached a conservatively dressed woman and introduced me to Amanda who was as tall as me. Her white blouse was buttoned all the way up to the top and her black knee-length skirt had nary a speck of lint on it. She was decently attractive in spite of the stern look on her face. We shook hands, which I found oddly formal for the circumstances. Nico excused herself to go find a drink.

Amanda and I looked at each other for a moment before we both turned away. I could see the embarrassment etched on her face and I knew exactly how she felt. Nico caught my eye from across the room and she made a shooing motion with her hand. I swallowed hard and said, "Well, this has to be the most awkward introduction I've ever had." Amanda smiled briefly and her face softened. I leaned forward and said softly, "Maybe we should find someplace quiet to talk."

Amanda nodded and led on, threading our way through the gathering crowd and up the staircase. The second floor was nearly deserted and we found a bathroom with a working lock on the door. Amanda leaned against the counter, her body rigid. I stood in front of her and a little off to the side. I held up my right hand for her to see then I slowly brought it down to her hip. She stiffened slightly at the touch but then relaxed.

"I'll stop any time you want; Just tell me," I said quietly. She nodded as I caressed her hip through her knit skirt. As she relaxed my hand traveled down her leg and low across the front of her thigh. I stopped there, gathering her skirt in my fingers and slowly hiking it up until I touched skin.

I watched her closely. She was very still, with her eyes closed and her breaths shallow, looking fragile and delicate. My palm pressed against her skin and I thought I heard the slightest hitch in her breath. With a slow, deliberate movement I ran my hand around to her inner thigh and up. Her body rose with my hand until she was on her tip-toes and couldn't go any higher. She was biting her lip now and when my hand brushed over her panties there was a sharp intake of breath.

With one finger I lightly stroked her sex through the cotton material. I could feel her swell beneath my touch, the subtle ridges and valleys becoming more pronounced with each passing minute. Amanda lowered her body until her feet were flat on the floor, pressing her cunt into my hand. My touch grew bolder and her face grew flushed. A glow was starting to shine from within her, a luster that brought out her beauty.

She gripped the edge of the counter now, the muscles of her arms tight bands of pent up frustration. I used all the skills Nico had taught me. My fingers danced, drawing a low moan from her. The swell of her clit was pronounced and I strummed it rapidly. She bit back another moan and took in two great hitches of breath before the dam burst. I watched as the orgasm rolled through her and in that moment she was the most beautiful creature I had seen. When she finally opened her eyes she smiled at me.

"Thank you," she whispered, her words barely audible. She started to smooth out her skirt but I turned her and backed her up to the wall opposite the counter. "What-," she began to ask but stopped when I crouched before her. I looked her in the eyes as I pushed her skirt up. Amanda watched wide-eyed as I kissed her mound through her panties. Her scent made me instantly hard, drawing my face into her sex. I hooked my fingers in the elastic waistband and pulled her panties off.

Blondish-brown pubic hair, thick and curly, greeted me. Swollen labia called to me. I kissed her and she shuddered. My tongue parted her with ease and I tasted her. I plunged in and

Geekz And Freakz: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 23 Apr 2026 01:20:00 +0000

Geekz And Freakz: Part 1

Thomas finds an improbable connection.

Based on a post by mi woodsman, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

Everyone has a story about their first time. Some are sweet and romantic, some are incredible, some are bizarre and some are disasters. My story may be all those things rolled into one. When I think back even I have a hard time believing what happened. I do know that I wouldn't be where I am today without the incredible woman who dropped so suddenly into my life, a woman I met the fall of my second year at college. I owe her so much.
Thomas.

Social Disabilities.

I was getting that familiar buggy feeling I get when I'm in a crowd and my anxiety starts to crank up, but I kept it in check by looking down and avoiding everyone's gaze. The party was in full swing with music blaring from the lounge halfway down the dorm hall. Eager drinkers pressed in around me as I pumped the keg. There was not one familiar face in the crowd. Everyone there was with my roommate or his circle of friends. Normally, I wouldn't have associated with my roommate and would have preferred the quiet solitude of the library but the thought of strangers touching my things had been too much, so I volunteered to man the keg. This way, I could keep an eye on my stuff and get free beer.

Black leather combat boots appeared on the floor before me, a change from all the tennis shoes, sandals, and flip-flops I had been seeing. My eyes followed the boots up to a black and green plaid kilt, up to an ancient black Joan Jett t-shirt tattered around the edges, up to a thin face framed by spiked jet-black hair, up until my eyes locked onto brilliant green eyes outlined in heavy mascara. She half-sneered at me, as if in challenge. I just nodded in greeting and passed her a beer. She gave me a little crooked smile and melted into the crowd, leaving me slightly flushed. I continued pouring but kept thinking about her green eyes and how they seemed to bore into me.

Later those boots and those eyes were back, looking for more beer. Her hands were empty, though, and the supply of plastic cups had run out several minutes before. "Sorry," I said. "What happened to your cup?"

She scowled. "I put it down to send a text and it must have been picked up by one these ass-hat frat boys." Pointing to a half-full mug on the shelf next me she asked, "Whose is that?"

"Mine," I explained and she picked it up and downed the rest before smirking and holding it out. I refilled it and she took a long sip off the top before handing it back.

A Freak named Nico.

"I'm Nico," she volunteered as I took a drink.

"Thomas," I said as she took the mug from my hands. A black widow tattoo decorated the inside of her left wrist and another tattoo, green vines twisting and choking a broken clockwork, adorned her right bicep. I counted at least nine different piercings in her ears and eyebrow. She was short, almost a foot shorter than me, with a slight build. At first glance she appeared frail but I noticed the way the cords stood out on her arms as she randomly plucked textbooks off my shelf and thumbed through them before replacing them in the wrong location. "Nico's a unique name," I said, attempting conversation. I winced inwardly at the awkward rhyming of my statement.

"Short for Nicole," she explained without looking up from my Physics text.

I stole a sidelong glance at her body. Her legs were pale and smooth and looked soft to the touch. On her left thigh I could see just the bottom of another tattoo and wondered what it could be. When I looked up she was watching me intently. Attempting to cover my embarrassment I joked, "Did you just come from the Young Republicans meeting?"

"Church? I'm an altar girl," she said without missing a beat. She looked me over critically. "You don't fit in, either."

I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans but I knew what she meant. My body language was all wrong. I nodded. "My roommate's party, my roommate's friends, his friends' friends, and so on. You know anyone here?"

She shook her head. "No one. I walked a friend back to her room after a movie, heard the music and decided to crash."

We talked as I continued pouring beers. Nico told me she was majoring in sociology and I said I was studying computer science and engineering. The fact that she didn't run away after I told her was encouraging. The music down the hall was cranked even higher and drinkers crowded in around us, forcing us closer together. Nicole shouted one-sided conversation in my ear as I pumped the keg. To be honest, I don't recall too much of what she said but I clearly remember the feel of her breath on my ear and the five times her body rubbed against my arm as the crowd pressed in.

Eventually the keg ran dry and I had the unenviable task of turning away drunk but thirsty souls, their collective mood turning darker by the moment. All of my attempts to get them out the door failed, the crowd grew more surly. In the end it was Nico who drove them from the room with pushes and kicks, swearing at them the whole time. I taped a sign on the door, closed it and locked it.

"Thanks. I thought we were going to be overrun."

"The only thing a mob will understand is force," she explained. It sounded like she was disappointed in me in some way. "You need to be more forceful and not let them walk all over you." I nodded mutely, thoroughly chastised. Then she smiled slightly. "Anyway, I owed you for sharing your mug."

Nico sat cross-legged on my bed, sipping what was left of the beer, watching me shuffle around the room picking up trash. Her skirt had ridden up a bit exposing more of her thighs. I pretended not to notice and concentrated on stacking discarded plastic cups and tossing them in the wastebasket. I finally got to my bookshelf and was, at last, able to reshuffle the textbooks into the correct order. The urge to touch them seven times almost overwhelmed me but I fought it successfully. Only crazy people touch things like that. When I looked at her I saw she had a curious expression on her face.

"What?"

Her eyes narrowed and her lips twisted thoughtfully. Finally, she asked, "Are you gay?"

"No," I said, completely unoffended. It was not the first time that question had been asked of me.

"Didn't think so." She patted the mattress next to her. "Come here and take a break."

Stretching his comfort zone.

I sat on the bed with my back against the wall. I tried to look relaxed on the outside but I doubt I succeeded. Every nerve in my body was jangling and my body felt stiff as a board. Nico didn't seem to notice. Instead she rubbed at a mark on her skirt before turning and looking at me closely. I started to wither under her stare.

"What?" I asked again, afraid she had noticed my right ear lobe was slightly larger than my left.

She shook her head, a frown on her face. "You're not like other guys, are you?"

"No, I suppose not."

She nodded, absently picking at the scuff mark. Without warning she kissed me, hard, pinning me against the wall. Once I recovered from the initial shock I began to return the kiss but I was always a step behind. Her tongue forced its way past my lips, so alive and electric. My hand went to her back; her hand went to my crotch as she drove me down onto the bed. Tentatively I moved my hand down to her ass and she boldly shoved her hand down the front of my jeans.

She stopped kissing and stared at my crotch, her hand squeezing up and down my length. Her hands scrabbled at my jeans, tugging them down to my thighs until I was exposed and erect before her. Nico muttered, "No fucking way!"

Before I had a chance to speak she had me in her mouth. Someone was pounding on the door, jiggling the handle and demanding beer. The shouting and pounding and sucking continued unabated for several minutes until the knocker finally took the hint and went away. All I could hear, aside from the thudding of my heart, were the soft wet sounds of her mouth sliding over my cock.

The feel of her tongue was too much and my whole body tensed. With a groan I came, eliciting a muted whimper from Nico. She continued bobbing for another minute, the sensations intensifying with each bob, drawing out more groans from deep within me body. Finally, she ceased and let me slide from her lips. She sat back against the wall and dabbed at the corners of her mouth before sucking on her finger.

I lay there, stunned and pleased and vulnerable and invincible all rolled into one. The feeling of invincibility faded, though, and I gradually became aware I was lying naked in front of a girl with my now-limp cock on full display. Embarrassed, I started to pull my pants up but her hand stopped me.

"Don't; seeing it pleases me," she said. "Your very first blowjob?" I nodded dumbly and she smiled. "Thought so. What did you think?"

I tried to put it into words but my vocabulary failed me. "It was amazing. I-" How could I describe something made me feel so many different emotions all at one time? Instead, I shrugged and shook my head.

She nodded in agreement. "Kneel on the floor in front of me." I did and she scooted to the edge of the bed. Nico gathered her kilt in her hands, slowly revealing the pale flesh of her thighs, the serpent tattoo that started on her left hip and rose towards her abdomen, and the black cotton of her panties. She pulled my face to her crotch and I stared at it. "Kiss it," she commanded.

I pressed my lips against the dry fabric. Nico shifted and I felt soft yielding flesh under the panties. Her musk filled my nose and I became light-headed. I kissed her again, my mouth open slightly and her hips rose slightly to meet me. Without hesitation I licked her and the cotton turned from dry to damp to wet and then I could faintly taste her. I tongued her roughly through her panties, wanting, needing more until she pushed my head back with one hand.

Those green eyes, punctuated by black eyeliner, stared at me intently. I couldn't tell if she was pleased or angry but I did recognize her surprise. I don't know how long she held me there but with each passing moment I became more desperate to taste her again. Finally, her eyes narrowed and with her free hand she pushed her panties down her thighs, leaving me to pull them the rest of the way off. The hand holding my hair slowly relaxed and dropped away.

I bent down and softly kissed her inner thigh. She tasted like fall, of rain and the sweet smell of slowly decaying leaves. I kissed higher and now I could truly smell her. I paused and, for the first time in my life, gazed at a woman's sex. Neatly trimmed black pubic hair framed her glistening folds. The swollen clit bulged slightly under its hood, calling to me. I could feel her heat on my face, drawing me in. My tongue parted her, delved into her, and dipped into her nectar. A guttural moan filled my ears and my soul fell into her, drowning happily in the pool of her wet heat.

With slow and tender licks and kisses, I explored every nook and cranny of her, liberating her juices, coating my mouth and chin. Low, primal sounds filled the room only to be muted by the sudden pressure of her thighs against my head. I pushed on, my tongue darting and flicking and she trembled and shook beneath me. Her thighs hugged my face, each squeeze more powerful than the last, cutting off the blood to my brain until the world dimmed.

When I came to my senses Nico had me by my hair and was twisting my head painfully to the side. Tremors rolled through her body and she looked down at me triumphantly. Her face was flush and sweat beaded on her forehead. With a crooked smile she pushed me away playfully in an odd display of affection. I wiped my face with my shirt and realized my erection was back.

Nico looked at the clock and bolted from the bed. "Shit! My curfew is in ten minutes!"

I couldn't believe my ears. "You live in Mother Mary?" I teased. She shot me a dangerous look as she smoothed down her skirt. To make up for the slight I offered to walk her back.

We hustled across campus to Mary Hall, the lone all-women dorm on campus. Also known as Mother Mary, the Nunnery, or, more crudely, the Virgin Vault, it was the only dorm that had a curfew. A favorite of over-protective parents to guard their daughters against all the evils of college life, it was also the only dorm with a waiting list. We got to the front doors with two minutes to spare according to the large antique clock over the entrance. Nico kissed me lightly on the lips before disappearing inside. I was walking on air on my way home before realization set in.

I had forgotten to get her number and I didn't know her last name. I'm such an idiot.

Vanished.

The following week I walked slowly past Mary Hall on the way to and from class hoping I'd run into Nico, even walking out of my way whenever I had time. I had her panties which I had found balled up under the edge of my bed and I carried them with me like I was the prince in a perverted version of Cinderella. Not once did I get a glimpse of her. I slept with the shirt I had worn that night. I hadn't washed it and I could still smell her on it.

After two weeks I had almost given up seeing her again. I was in my room catching up on homework when I heard a voice. "Hey." I looked up at those brilliant green eyes. Nico was standing in my open door wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans, a lock of jet black hair covering one eye. She flashed that crooked smile and asked, "Am I bothering you?"

"Nope," I said, quickly closing my Advanced Calculus textbook. She shut the door and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Is your roommate around?"

"No, he rarely sleeps here. He usually stays with friends who belong to the frat he's rushing so I basically get the room to myself."

"About that night," she began but stopped. She gave me a cold, hard stare. "You haven't told anyone about it, have you?" I swore I hadn't. "Good, keep it that way. You tell anyone and I'll hurt you."

"I swear, I won't say anything," I said meekly, withering under her gaze. She was starting to scare the absolute shit out of me.

Anxiety clashes with boldness.

"Okay, I believe you." She looked at me for a long moment then said, "Take off your clothes."

"What?"

"Take off your clothes. I want to see you naked."

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Nico stood up, tilted her head and looked curiously at me. "Are you a virgin?"

I swallowed and avoided her eyes. I finally shrugged and confessed, "I've never done those things before."

"What? Kiss a girl? Feel another person's tongue on your own? Touch a girl's ass?" I stared at the floor under the desk. I was too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. "Or was it something else?" she persisted.

"You know, like what you did to me," I bumbled.

"You mean when I put your erect cock in my mouth and sucked on it until you ejaculated your sperm down my throat. That's called a blowjob."

"Right. That." I swallowed nervously and went on. "And what I did to you."

"Ah, you mean cunnilingus, more commonly known as eating me out or licking my cunt."

"Yeah, licking your, you know, pussy."

Nico shook her head. "You didn't lick my cat, you licked my cunt."

"Ok."

"Did you like licking my cunt?"

"Yeah."

"Say it."

"I liked licking you."

"I want you to say the word." She waited, an amused expression on her face. She was thoroughly enjoying how uncomfortable I was. "Say, cunt."

"Cunt," I said quietly, flinching as I did so. All my life I had been taught that was the worst word one could ever say.

She laughed. "My God, you really are a virgin, in more ways than one." Her laughter shamed me and my ears burned. I felt so small. "Well, at least I know you're clean. Tell me, Thomas, are you one of those types who save themselves for marriage? Did you swear a promise to your God you would remain pure and chaste until your wedding night?" she mocked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no," I said a bit defensively.

"Do you believe in God, Thomas?"

"No, do you?"

Nico snorted with derision. "I have don't have time to waste on that nonsense." She unsnapped her jeans and pulled the zipper down. "I don't have time to waste, period. Do you want to lick my cunt again, Thomas?" She reached into her panties. "I'm so wet and I'm so willing. Do you want to taste me, Thomas?" She pulled her hand out and held it up in front of me. Two of her fingers glistened and shone. I was already salivating. I nodded. "Then take off your goddamn clothes." There was a menace behind those words even though they were said neutrally.

I stood and peeled off my shirt then my jeans. After a moment's hesitation I kicked off my boxers. Nico shook her head and pointed at my feet. I understood and pulled off my socks. I stood there in the middle of my room naked and semi-aroused as Nico walked slowly around me appraising my body. I silently prayed she wouldn't notice my earlobes or that my rib cage was a little asymmetrical. She stopped in front of me and raised an eyebrow as she looked at my cock.

"Utterly fucking amazing," she said softly. "How big is it?"

Like most guys, I had been curious with the length of my cock. I had measured it and done my research but for some reason I was embarrassed to admit that to her. Instead, I simply said, "Bigger than average, I suppose."

She shook her head. "Indeed it is. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me again and my memory was fucked up. But there it is." She sighed. "On your knees," she commanded.

I obeyed. Nico kicked off her jeans and stood before me. "I can't have a boyfriend," she said, as I tasted her. I didn't care. I just nodded and drank her in.

In the end, she was sitting naked in the desk chair with one leg draped over the armrest and me kneeling on the floor in front of her, my head buried between her legs as orgasm chased orgasm. When she finally pushed me away almost a half an hour had passed.

Brief explosions of pain blossomed in my knees as I stood, my joints stiff. I rubbed my neck to work out the kinks and looked down at Nico. She lay there, draped over the chair, wasted with exhaustion but with a satisfied look on her face. Her small, pert tits rose and fell, her nipple ring catching the light with each breath. The tattoo of a serpent wrapped around an apple covered her left hip, up her abdomen, to just below her left tit.

She motioned me over until I was standing next to her. "Masturbate on me," she said, tipping her head back, closing her eyes and opening her mouth. Her voice was tired and strained and for a brief moment, she looked sickly. When I hesitated she said emphatically, "Thomas, I want you to jerk off, until your cum sprays over my face!"

I stood over her and masturbated as Nico's hands played lightly over her body, her fingers teasing her nipples and tracing random patterns over her stomach. The room was silent except for the rhythmic whispering of skin rubbing skin. She still had her eyes closed, and her mouth half-open and inviting. I watched her drive her middle finger deep into her cunt. With her other hand she caressed my sac, pulling me closer to her expectant mouth until the tip of my cock rubbed against her lips.

She sucked it momentarily then whispered, "I can't have a boyfriend."

I continued stroking, my orgasm nearing. Her lips nuzzled the underside of the fleshy tip, sending jolts of electricity directly down my shaft, through my balls and up my spine. With a groan the dam burst. White lines of cum jetted across the bridge of her nose and caught in her heavy lashes. She pulled me into her mouth and I came some more. When I was finished my knees felt weak.

"I can't have a boyfriend

Blizzard Revelations

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 02:28:25 +0000

Blizzard Revelations.

Two best friends, stranded in a car, find fun ways to keep warm.

Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

"Hey, Lindsey; you all set?"

A tall, shaggy-haired fella came up from the basement guest bedroom, then strode the hallway, and called up the staircase to her 2nd story bedroom, from near the front door. Lindsey felt her stomach flutter once again. Jackson was actually back from college. In his hand, he carried a suitcase of his own, and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled at her as she came down the big oak stairs, and she nodded.

"Yep, Jack; just gotta grab my rucksack and lock up, and we're good to go!"

She couldn't remember when the two of them had first met. Their parents had been close friends for years, before they'd even been born. So far as she cared, she'd known Jackson forever. They'd grown up together, referred to each other as cousins. The pair had been almost inseparable, all the way up to Jackson leaving for college.

Worst yet, his parents had to move; when the corporation shut down the local factory, and his dad had to move in order to fill another management position, or face unemployment at age 51. Lindsey’s anxieties were mounting, until yesterday, when his flight arrived. She'd been absolutely heartbroken last August. to see him go. But he kept his promise, that he'd visit as soon as he came back for the holidays.

Which sadly coincided with her own family’s reunion. Her parents insisted that she come with them, but she negotiated a compromise. Jackson would use her car to drive her, on his way to his own relative’s gathering.

It just so happened the day he flew back was the day before her Great Aunt's get-together, so while her parents left yesterday morning, she hung around to pick him up at the airport. The plan was for him to stay over that night, then drive the two of them, to drop her at the reunion, seeing as it wasn't too far from his cousins' place. That way, he could drive to his kin, and see them too. Then two days later he’d pick Lindsey up from the reunion, and drive her back a few days later, if she didn't want to stay the whole week, like her folks.

She'd nearly tackled him near the baggage claim, when she saw him run down the airport concourse. The pair had spent the evening laughing, eating, and reminiscing. Jackson had plenty of stories to tell her about his first semester at college, and Lindsey eagerly hung on his every word. When he’d finally gone down to the basement guest bedroom, it was well past midnight. She’d already fallen asleep while the two were watching an old favorite DVD title. He’s woke her up and directed her to go up and get some sleep. By the time they were up and about, the next day; they realized there was no way they were going to make it on time.

It was getting on for noon when the snow started to fall; lightly covering the driveway as Lindsey dragged her suitcase out to Jackson's car. She knew they were only going away for a week, but she wanted to be prepared, especially with the weather as it was, so she'd filled her bags with as many jumpers, woolly hats, and thick comfy socks as she could. A decision she was starting to regret as she struggled to heave the bulging suitcase into the trunk of her little car.

Finally cramming it into the space, she stepped back, taking a moment to breathe. All around her, the snow fell lazily through the air, getting heavier by the minute, and she wondered if it would ease off much, before the two of them left for her great aunt's. 'Oh well, at least it'll be a white Christmas...' she thought to herself, before turning back towards the open door of her house.

She loved almost everything about Christmas, but the annual family reunion certainly wasn't on the list. She could count on one hand, how many of her relatives she actually liked, and even then she had plenty of fingers spare. In fact, the only person she really cared about visiting, had just been her house guest. But that visit was nearly over. Only the car ride remained.

“Start the car, Jack.”

"Cool-cool, but hurry up, I don't like the look of this snow. We might end up stranded in a blizzard, if we're not careful; and you'll miss your fam." Jackson shot her a wink. "And I know how much you'd hate that."

Giggling at his sarcasm, Linsey ran back into her house. She'd left her rucksack just inside the door, and she quickly grabbed it before locking up and running back down to the car. The snowfall had gotten pretty heavy by now, and she saw Jackson chuck his stuff onto the back seat before getting into the driver's side door, and revving the engine. Burying her face in her scarf to keep warm, Lindsey threw her rucksack in the back as well, before climbing into the passenger side seat next to him. Clicking her seatbelt into place, she turned and gave him a nod, and off the two went.

Relaxing back into her seat, Lindsey watched the snowflakes fall as Jackson gently took the car out of the driveway and onto the almost pure white road. Rubbing her hands together in the frigid air, she reached out and cracked up the thermostat a little, before settling back again. It wasn't a particularly long drive, only a few hours, but she could already tell it was going to be a chilly one.

The snow wasn't too much of a problem while they drove through the city, salt trucks leaving the roads mostly clear. As they got out into the countryside, Jackson started to take it slower, carefully navigating the narrow lanes as the snow continued to fall. Once or twice they saw the skid marks of cars that hadn't been quite as cautious, and at one point a tow truck passed them, pulling the unfortunate survivor of a nasty off-road skid.

The first hour passed quickly. The thermostat did its job, and the car quickly armed up enough for Lindsey to drop her scarf and gloves. The two friends chattered away happily as the miles passed, and the music from the radio helped fill any lulls. However, as the sun began to set, the snowfall only got heavier and heavier. Lindsey could feel herself getting increasingly nervous, finding it harder and harder to see the passing countryside, and could only imagine how hard it must be for Jackson at the wheel.

"Damn it;” the young man muttered under his breath, craning forward to peer out between the falling snowflakes. Lindsey could feel the stress radiating off of him, and did her best to stay calm. The last thing she wanted to do is panic him any more than he already was.

Pretty soon though, they both realized they were going to have to stop. The snow was falling so heavily now that neither of them could see the road, let alone anything else. Lindsey felt her stomach drop as Jackson shook his head, pulling the car up onto the verge at the side of the road. "Sorry Linds, I can't keep going in this. If we're lucky it'll blow over soon, and we can get going again, but for the meantime, it's just not safe;” Lindsey looked up at him and saw the look of concern on his face. "You might wanna call your folks."

Lindsey gave him a worries nod. She could feel her stomach tying itself up in knots as she pulled out her cell phone. They were a long way from anywhere, out there, and if they got stuck overnight it was going to get very, very cold. Dialing her parents, she anxiously waited for them to pick up.

"Hey, Dad, it's me. Um, yeah, me and Jackson are on our way, but the snow is; it's coming down pretty hard, so we're just going to pull over for a bit. No need to worry about us, it's all good. We're just going to be a bit later than we thought, that's all. I'll call you when we start moving again. Yep, yep, we'll be safe, don't worry. I love you too. See you soon"

The young woman hung up, hoping she didn't sound too scared on the phone. "Ok, what do we do now?"

Lost At Christmas: Part 1

His First Christmas away from home, & His best gift ever.

Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time.

After my first semester in College, I was eager to go home for the holidays. I was going to school in Rochester, New York, and anybody who'd experienced the lake-effect winters on the Great Lakes would understand my desire to get to somewhere warmer.

For me, that somewhere warmer was a long ways away. As a military brat, home was often a moving target, and that winter it was Santiago, Chile, where my father was stationed and where I'd graduated high-school. It was summer in Santiago, and I was looking forward to a pool-party with my old school mates for the Holidays.

We didn't have a lot of money, but I was allowed to travel space available on a military flight as a Navy ROTC student. I had to get down to Charleston, South Carolina, and catch an international C1 41 flight that made a loop through Latin America.

After finagling a ride to Virginia followed by a very long bus trip down the coast, I finally made it to Charleston AFB. ROTC travel orders in hand, I checked in at the desk, and verified I was on the standby list for the flight leaving on the 23rd. I wouldn't get home until Christmas Day, but better late than never.

With pockets nearly empty, a hotel room was out of the question so I slept in the terminal and snacked on the cheapest eats I could get away with. There was a festive mood in the terminal, so many people rushing to get home for the holidays, and I was getting caught up in the feeling, eagerly looking forward to that very long plane ride, first to Panama, then Lima, and finally Santiago.

After what seemed an interminable wait, we were an hour away from boarding when I got bumped off the flight by a group of Marines headed to Panama on Active Duty travel orders. I was devastated. The next flight left early the morning of the 26th. At least that one was a huge plane, and nearly empty so I was virtually guaranteed to get aboard, but what was I going to do for Christmas?

Looking up at the outgoing flight schedules, I saw a flight listed for Tyndall AFB, Panama City, Florida.

"When is the flight to Tyndall headed out?" I asked the airman behind the desk.

"In an hour-and-a-half, and it's all but empty. You want on?" He asked, offering some recompense for my last minute bump.

I'd lived in Panama City during 9th and 10th grade, and still had some close friends there, many I still kept in touch with. Maybe I could find someone to spend Christmas with there. It had to be better than sleeping in the terminal for 2 more days.

"Please," I told him, "but hold my space for Santiago. I'll be back for that flight."

I recalled there being a pretty big Greyhound station in Panama City, so I called Greyhound and checked on a bus being able to get me back in time for the flight. They had one, a 7:30 am bus on Christmas morning would get me back before midnight on Christmas. I could easily make the flight the next morning, even if it were delay a few hours. I bought a ticket, using the emergency Am Ex card my parents had given me when I headed off to college. I'd explain the $67.00 to my parents.

I called my family in Santiago with the news. It had to be short call because of the expense, so I let them know I had been bumped but would be there on the 28th. I told them I was headed to Panama City, and would be taking a bus back in plenty of time for my flight. My mother cried, and my father told me to go ahead and use the credit card, but to try to keep the expenses reasonable. By the time I hung up I was pretty depressed, but at least I had a plan.

Before I could try to contact anyone in Panama City, an announcement was made and suddenly I was on my way to Florida for Christmas, with no place lined up to stay, and practically broke. I was feeling a bit melancholy, but was determined to make the best of it.

So there I was, at Tyndall Air Force Base, at 11:20 pm on December 23rd. I was debating who to try first. I had several close friends nearby and I expected they'd all be home for Christmas. After a short internal debate, I had narrowed it down to two. I had always gotten along well with their entire families, and I was still in pretty regular contact with both of them.

Mike lived the nearest to me in the old days. He came from a big family, with 6 siblings, including Peggy, who'd been one of my first real deep infatuations. When I had been in 9th grade she'd been a senior, and was pretty and sophisticated. My yearning for her was unrequited, but I relished the idea of seeing her again after four years. She was a college senior, and would probably be home. I knew they'd welcome me, but I was concerned it would be an inconvenience. They did not have a large house, and it was bound to be crowded, particularly with three college kids home for the holiday. On top of that who knew if they had anyone else in tow?

Tommy on the other hand came from a relatively well-off family who always lived well within their means. He had an older brother, who was working in Japan and unlikely to be home, a sister, Sheri, just a year behind us in school, and two much younger siblings, who I guessed would be around 9 and 10 by now. They had a spacious house, each kid had their own room, and I wouldn't be putting anybody out if I stayed there. I'd always had a crush on Sheri, but although I'd dated her best friend, I'd never gone out with her. Getting a chance to see her again would be an extra bonus.

Feeling nervous and awkward, I dialed Tommy's number from memory, and luckily got him on the first call. If I'd gotten somebody else, I would have really felt uncomfortable.

Tommy's answer was unmistakable. He had a funny way of saying hello when he answered the phone, and the sound of his voice took me straight back down memory lane.

"Hee-ello," he answered.

"Tommy! Guess who?" I asked.

I guess my voice must have been similarly recognizable, since he didn't hesitate a second.

"Steve-o! What are you up to? Where're you at?" He answered eagerly.

It put a smile on my face. Nice to hear a happy, upbeat voice that seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me.

"Funny you should ask. It's a long story, but I'm in a bit of a bind. I'm at Tyndall, and stuck here until Christmas Day." I told him.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 3

How did we ever get here?

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

"When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much that he kept me on."

"But what about school? Don't you need a high school diploma to become an apprentice?"

"One good thing about growing up in a small town is that most people know the score. I made it to school when I could, and Henry and I worked a lot on the weekends, while Alison watched the rest of my siblings. Most of my teachers let me through with C's and D's, even though I must have missed half of my classes. Everyone knew that I was working with Henry and that I would need my high school diploma to become an apprentice, so they just kind of let me slip through.

"I had well over 6,000 hours of experience plumbing before I even turned 18 and could formally become an apprentice. By that point, Henry was a significantly less functional alcoholic, and I was doing everything for his business; all the plumbing and all of the invoicing. He just signed off on the work. If anyone had ever looked into it, he could have gotten into real trouble, but we did smaller jobs for folks who didn't have a lot of money, so no one ever noticed or cared.

"Just about the last thing that Henry did before he passed was to swear out my application to become a master plumber. Then one day I showed up for work, and he had died in his sleep. He didn't own much of anything, other than his tools, and he didn't have any family that I knew of, so I just kept on working."

After a few minutes spent lying together in silence, I thought that Erin might have drifted off, but she had one more question for me before she did.

"When did your mom leave?"

I had never told anyone that part of my story; even my brother and sisters thought that Mom had just left one day, leaving me in charge. The reality was so much worse.

"By the time Lane started school, Mom had already left us. Not physically, but in all the other ways that matter. She didn't work, and she regularly brought her 'boyfriends' back to our house to trade sex for drugs. Any support she got from social services went straight into her arm or up her nose. I was working long hours by then, to pay the rent and put food on the table, so sometimes that meant that Mary or my brother would be at home with Mom when I wasn't there. I knew it was playing with fire, but there was nothing I could do about it other than pray.

"Normally, when I got home, I would blow my horn as I pulled into our drive and Lane would come running out to hug me and tell me about his day. So, I knew something was wrong when I came home late one evening, turned off my truck, and he still hadn't come out. I went inside, and Mom was sitting stoned in the living room watching TV. I asked where Lane was, and she just waved toward the back of the house. Alison and Sharon were out, so Mary and Lane were home with her by themselves. I found him in the room that we shared, cowering in the corner, with little Mary guarding the door. She was only eight at the time.

"After a few minutes, I got Lane to tell me what was wrong, and he showed me his arm. Earlier, he had been in the kitchen and had bumped into Mom while she was cooking something on the stove. In a burst of rage, or maybe just evil, she grabbed his arm and held it against the burner. You can still see the scar on his arm today.

"That was the end of it. I asked Mary to stay with Lane in our room, I packed Mom's things into the one suitcase we owned, and I drove her to the bus station. I bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids, gave her all the cash in my wallet, and waited with her until she boarded. I told her I would call the police if she ever came back.

"Before she left, she spat on me and told me she wished I had never been born."

I marveled at how flat my voice sounded, but to my surprise, my cheeks felt wet. I thought I had lost the ability to cry long ago.

"Can you imagine that, abandoning your own mother? I'll probably burn in hell, but it was the only way I could think of to keep my brother and sisters safe. I haven't seen her since, although she used to call a couple of times a year asking for money. I didn't feel too bad about hanging up on her when she did, though, since she was still collecting family benefits for us all. Lane barely remembers her, which is likely a blessing, so I made up the story about Mom going away for the weekend and never coming back.

"Since then, I have done what was needed for us to survive. When Alison finished school, she wanted to stay home to help look after the others, but I convinced her to go to college. I said that Mom had put aside some money for her tuition, but of course, that was a lie. I have been making the payments for her, but I wanted her to have the chance to just be young, for once. To get away from all of this, at least for a while."

"But what about you, Davis?"

"I don't matter."

"Well, you matter to me."

While I was speaking, Erin had wrapped both arms around me and was now holding me tight against her body. When I finished, my body was wracked by waves of uncontrollable grief, but she held me through it all. Eventually, as I started to calm down, she gave me gentle kisses on the nape of my neck and whispered to me in a soft voice.

I don't remember what she said, but I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The power came back on early the next morning, and Erin and I were the first people to wake up. She lay beside me with a small smile on her face.

"You've had some hard times, Davis Crawford, but you have come out the other side. You're pretty amazing."

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 2

Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies.

Based on a post by MrJack, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time.

The afternoon and early evening hours dragged on uneventfully. I had bathed (again), and put on a dark wool shirt and faded jeans. While the snow continued falling, I snacked on cookies and absentmindedly tried to watch part of a football game. Flipping off the TV, I tried surfing some porn, but the flavor of mint chocolate cookies drew my thoughts back to the taste of a luscious young Girl Scout Leader's lips and the feeling of a tight pussy enveloping my cock.

I suppose I ate too many cookies, so my supper was just a hurried snack of thrown-together leftovers. About 6 o'clock, I cleaned up the kitchen and then went to the living room to stir up the embers in the fireplace. I threw a few logs in and soon had a cozy warm fire, heating and lighting the room.

Curiosity led me to flip on the front porch light and take a look at the weather through the front door's ice-covered windowpane. Huge flakes of fluffy snow were falling like windswept feathers from the darkened sky. Several inches were already covering the ground.

Suddenly, my peering eyes caught a glimpse of a hat and coat-covered figure trudging through the snow on a heading straight towards my door. The short stature of the struggling person made my heart leap with hopeful anticipation. If my instincts were right, my young Scout Leader lover was returning like a thief to the scene of an afternoon crime.

When I cracked the door open, the snow-covered apparition rushed inside and headed straight for the warmth of the fire. Throwing a backpack in a chair, my visitor removed gloves and then snatched off a knitted woolen hat and a long scarf.

A fly-away mop of curly brunette hair confirmed my suspicions that my Little Debbie had indeed returned to me. "Hi Jason," she breathlessly said. "Goodness gracious, I didn't realize it was so 'wintry' outside!"

Although I was elated beyond belief, to have my teen love back in my home, I couldn't stop myself from admonishing her. "Damnit Debbie!" my unbidden words said. "I thought I told you to 'go away little girl' until we had time to think things out!"

"Hold onto your horses, Mister," Debbie retorted. "I didn't come back to stir up trouble. I've brought your jacket back to you. I'll leave when I get warmed up. Okay?"

Digging into her backpack, Debbie drew out my jacket and tossed it to me. Throwing the coat aside, I grabbed the girl and jerked her into my arms. "No young lady, it's not 'okay'!" I answered forcibly. "You're staying for a while! If I need to, I'll do what you said I would someday say. I'll 'beg you to stay'! Now, take off your coat and your wet shoes and socks, please."

Stepping away from me, the obedient teenager shrugged her shoulders and then removed her coat. When my astonished eyes realized what this girl had on beneath her outerwear, I just about peed in my pants!

Long gone was the tight-fitting Scout Leader uniform. In its place the young woman wore a pair of baggy 'bib' overalls. They weren’t denim, like farmers often wear. This garment was handmade and pastel blue, made from a cotton knit fabric. Beneath the bibs she had on no shirt! She had on no bra! And, if I were to guess, I'd guess she had on no panties!

Debbie stood flatfooted and then bent over at the waist. She began pulling off her snow-wet shoes and socks. Without the confinement and support of a bra, this girl-woman's breasts fell down and strained against the barely-concealable covering of her bib top. The twin thin straps crossing over her bare shoulders were the only mechanical supports keeping the busty boobs from escaping completely.

For a young lady of such a slim and diminutive stature, her tits seemed to be enormously over-proportioned. I never was a fella who kept up with the technicalities of boob-cup size. I usually used a more objective measurement. I'd say Debbie's breasts were about the size and shape of a couple of Sunshine State grapefruits on an overdose of steroids.

At the moment, those dangly mesmerizing melons were swinging to and fro in the firelight's glow. As they swayed, jutting nickel sized dark-pink nipples flashed out from their bib covering. Two-inch pale pink areolas framed the nubile nubs.

"God damn it, Debbie!" I suddenly announced. "I thought you just said you didn't come here to 'stir up trouble'! Hell girl, a female with exposed tits like those is going to get plenty of 'trouble' coming her way!"

Debbie smiled, grabbed her backpack, and took a seat on the floor near the fire. "Jason, my dear," she teasingly scolded. "Mister, I have on more clothes than you had on when you greeted me at the door earlier today! Hey Honey, guess what? Sit down because I have a surprise for you."

Giving in to undeniable temptation, I sat on the plush rug, in the middle of the floor.

Digging into her pack, Debbie removed a covered Tupperware container, a stainless steel thermos, and two mugs.

"I suppose you've had supper?" the girl questioned rhetorically. "I bet you haven't had dessert. You know what? I've been thinking about you for hours, so I baked you some 'homemade' cookies and made you some 'homemade' hot chocolate. Want some?"

At first, I didn't answer. My eyes were glued to the exposed expanse of uncovered female flesh. The bib straps did little to conceal a flawless naked back and a set of curvaceous shoulders. I moved my position on the floor so I could get the swollen erection bulging inside my pants straightened out.

"Debbie, in truth, I haven't had dessert," I managed to say. "Now, aren't you the little domesticated lady? Making 'homemade' cookies and hot chocolate for my dessert?"

Laying out her bounty, Debbie winked at me and mischievously teased, "Oh Jason, the milk and chocolate are just and 'appetizer'. Here is what I really brought for you to 'eat' for a dessert treat."

Slim fingers flipped the bib straps loose from their buttons. The bib top fell into the girl's lap. This young woman's tantalizing pair of ponderous boobs burst out and swung as free, as a couple of over-ripe pendulum nectarines hanging heavy on a fruit tree.

Just as my startled eyes were adjusting to the majesty of this sight, the wickedly wondrous woman-child stuck her hands into the sides of her overalls and slid them down over her butt, her legs, and her feet. Confirming my suspicions, she had on no panties.

The unexpected first experience of a blooming teenager.

By Jane Doe Stuff 03. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Venturing out the chaos of the big city and into the widely different landscape that is the region’s countryside it is easy to acknowledge the existence of the distant big city. A small conglomerate of towns loosely connected by few roads, where a great number of land workers consumed vast amounts of life, seemed to willingly stand in direct opposition to the congested metropolitan life back at the coast.

Janet Doe had grown up in this so called “village” and her opinion of the place had changed more the more she grew up. When she was a kid, it could be called a paradise: she could play in absolute freedom in the vastity of the fields, with her beloved dog and her much older brother watching over them, as happy as a lark.

But not anymore.

With her brother gone (lost to college) and her dog now too old to even walk, that precious corner of world had transformed from a refuge to an isolating prison, where all she felt was alone. She imagined many times how her life would be in the big city, how many friends she could make and, most importantly, she could spend time with, instead of only having school hours to interact with kids her age, before going home to loneliness.

There she was, a once cheerful and creative little girl, now a bored and uninterested teenager at her last year of high school. It didn’t take long for her family to notice the change, but the first to propose something was her brother John as he got back home for the winter holydays. He proposed to their parents something artistic that could, in his opinion, bring back a smile on the face of little Jenny. He had always had a soft spot for his little sister, and he genuinely cared about her well-being, even though he’d never tell her to her face. Never in his life he could have imagined how much this little proposal of his would have changed Jenny. Or the way it’d change her.

The parents weren’t hard to convince and with the start of the new year, after a few phone calls from the siblings’ mom, Jenny would have her first piano lesson. She had always been captivated by the piano in the living room, but also had been too scared to try to play it. The piano was first bought by her father as a decorative piece of furniture and never seriously used, for none of the family members knew how to play it properly. This is where our story finally begins.

In a cold and still mid-January afternoon, Janet and her mom were waiting to meet the new piano teacher. The only thing they knew was that he was a mature man and was one the few who was willing to venture to their isolated home thrice a week for a cheap pay. Mrs. Doe had taken a free afternoon from her job to meet the mysterious man in person and decide if he was trustworthy to be left (eventually alone), with her ‘little girl’. At 3.55 p.m., five minutes earlier than agreed, the teacher rang the intercom outside the front gate of the property.

“He’s here!”

Jenny’s mom jumped out of the sofa as she was saying this, with a mixture of excitement and nervousness in her voice. She pressed a button which opened the gate and stood at the house’s door and started peeking at the man who was walking up to her porch. As he got closer to the door, she showed herself to him and greeted him with an educated smile. Jenny stood just inside the front entry.

“Good afternoon, madame. I’m Thomas, we spoke on the phone.”

The two women were a little stunned by the appearance of the man: his voice was deep and controlled, he spoke slowly and surely as only men of a certain age manage, but now that he was in front of them, they could see he was more of a boy than an adult man. Mrs. Doe, always speaking her mind, said to the stranger:

“I didn’t expect you to be so young, Thomas. I’m honestly a little surprised. How old are you if I may ask?”

To which Thomas replied, without a hint of hesitation:

“Twenty-three, madame. Don’t worry, I’m used to people mistaking me for someone a little older.”

After the brief exchange, Janet and her mom received the guest and had him sit at the dinner table across them, both curious to ask questions to him. The interview began.

“Feel free to ask any question you’d like madame,” said the young man.

Jenny’s mom didn’t need him to tell her that and started a thorough interrogatory.

It turned out Thomas wasn’t a musician by trade, but a mathematician with a passion for music that had played the piano since he was a kid. His parents were middle class workers who expected much from him, and he wanted them to be proud: he used his time to study, practice various sports and cultivating his love for music. No unnecessary distractions, pauses or vacations. This brought him to get a master’s degree in mathematics at an Ivy League college on a scholarship (no student debt for him) and having all the necessary pieces of paper to go and make a difference in the world at only 23 years old. Unfortunately, at the end of his journey all the fatigue from his inhumane routine caught up with him and he came to an enlightening and probably even life-saving realization: he was spent, completely and utterly spent. So, he said goodbye to his parents once again as he chose the most God-forgotten rural destination where to decompress and rest for some time, maybe even a couple of years.

As he kept telling them about his life, both women could feel the weight of Thomas’ experience and how it molded him into the person they were speaking. The collectedness that had wondered them at first had now an explanation, since that was the only attitude that would get him through a life of rigid discipline without slowly going into a major depression. He was pragmatic and stoic, but also kind and gentle, the type of gentleness of someone who knows he is strong and therefore has little need for pretending to be tough. Mrs. Doe could read his character like a book from the words he spoke and was very impressed by what she read in him.

The interview proceeded in a semi-formal tone, except a few jokes by Mrs. Doe, like when she asked if for “no unnecessary distractions” he meant he never had a girlfriend, to which Thomas elegantly answered: “I wouldn’t call a woman an unnecessary distraction, madame”, making Mrs. Doe like him even more.

At the end of the questioning, after settling the matters of pay and weekly schedule, Mrs. Doe turned to her daughter and asked:

“What do you think Jenny, would you like to try giving him a chance?”

“I; I guess we can give it a shot.”

These words brought her back to reality, from the depths of her thoughts where she was about to drown. During the interview, the whole interview, Jenny’s mind was in a realm of its own, where all she could think about was that she hoped nobody would notice how wet she was getting. Since greeting him at the door she was hypnotized by the looks and ways of the young man.

Thomas was tall and well built, so much that his wide shoulders and proud chest stood out even if he was wearing a suit. His hair was a light shade of brown, freshly cut and quite short on the sides, almost looking like a military haircut. His beard was shaved, and his cheeks looked smooth, revealing a firm jawline. Brown eyes, darker than the shade of his hair, a regular, straight nose and a nice white smile. He would surely be considered handsome by the average girl, just for the fact that he was physically fit, but to Jenny he was exactly her type. She found him irresistible in every way: the voice, the face, the body were making her insides lubed as if she was melting.

Jenny was a girl at that age. At eighteen years old, her body was now fully craving the sweet forbidden fruit that is the taste of a man. And now she was right in the middle of experiencing her first crush. She was average height, around 5'5’’, with C-cup breasts and a slender, athletic body. The face of angel, with delicate round shapes, full lips, piercing brown eyes and dark ginger hair. A rare, tasteful beauty in the middle of blooming, that promised greatly of the woman she’d become.

The first lesson, under the supervision of her mother, had her trying harder to contain her hormones than to learn the piano. Nonetheless, Mrs. Doe thought Thomas had done a good job at teaching and trusted him to come on Wednesday, where he and Jenny would be unsupervised.

Janet had spent the time waiting for the next lesson in a horny fever. She masturbated more times that she could count and imagined tons of scenarios where Thomas tried to seduce her or to take her by force, never tired of imagining herself in his arms. Finally, the moment came, and she opened the door to him once more. As soon as they exchanged greetings, all she wanted to do was to jump him and French kiss him, but her shame stopped her. The lesson went on as she looked in an almost feverish state, to the point where Thomas asked her if she was feeling ill. She couldn’t live like that, and she knew it. She couldn’t live her life holding herself back.

But as the weeks went by something unexpected happened. After spending many afternoons with him the lust became controllable and changed into something else: love.

The two had spoken much with each other, often putting aside the piano for a chit chat. Thomas had opened completely with her, for he was a person who didn’t hide anything from the people he really liked, and Janet felt the need to return his honesty and had taken the habit of telling him how she felt without hesitation. This brought them closer than they were to anyone at that moment of their lives and made it a most important relationship beyond physical attraction.

As the winter melted away to leave room for spring, things with the not-yet-a-couple started to warm up too. The first notable change was in Thomas: since Jenny had told him the previous month that she never had a boyfriend he couldn’t shake the thought of her being a beautiful young woman from his mind. He had long abandoned viewing her as a child and started noticing the hints he was too blind to see before: how she clung to him whenever she could, the look in her eyes when he made her laugh, the awkward blushing her cheeks did whenever he got closer or took her hand on the piano.

At the beginning of spring, he was finally convinced Jenny liked him, which put him in a dilemma: to be or not to be, (with her). Thomas felt very attracted by her body and during the previous months had come to know how much of a smart and funny and gentle girl she was. If she was just a little older and he wasn’t her teacher, he would have taken a shot at her without overthinking it. Instead of being consumed by the dilemma of making or not a move towards her, he decided that he’d only accept her feeling if she confessed to him, so that he wouldn’t abuse of the power of being her teacher. A most practical conclusion, as expected of him.

If only Jenny could take a decision just as easily.

Ironically, to face the dilemma of confessing to Thomas, she asked herself what he would do in her place. Obviously, he would face it head on, with only the practical approach in mind, she thought. She wasn’t quite ready for that level of straightforwardness, so she opted for a compromise: she’d tell him she was dying to kiss him from the first moment she saw him and see his reaction. If it were to go south, she could always play it a joke, as teenage girls tend to do.

That is how, in a warm spring afternoon, exactly three months after their first meeting, Thomas and Janet came to stand in front of each other in the living room, their arms holding one another, their tongues intertwined in a warm, moist embrace.

When they finally separated, after two full minutes of silence and kissing, Jenny could only say:

“Oh my God, Tommy. It was beautiful…”

“Yeah;” he breathlessly replied.

Janet took him by the hand and guided him to her room, upstairs; Thomas following her from behind, not in need of an explanation. Once in her room, the door and the curtains closed, at the dim light of the afternoon sun barely filtering through the window, they started kissing again. Thomas was holding her head with his fingers in her hair, and slowly sliding his other hand from her hip to her ass, as they kept tasting each other, never having enough of it. His taste was slightly bitter, hers a little sweet. Jenny, although surprised to be wanted back at first, wanted to show him she was going all the way. She pulled her lips away and looked him in the eyes. Then, without breaking eye contact, she grabbed the hand holding her hair, put it on her breast and whispered:

“I want you…”

Thomas took the hand she had put on her breast and guided it to the bulge in his pants, letting Jenny feel the effect she had on him, then answered:

“I want you too…”

He then proceeded to undress her gently, and inviting her to undress him, until finally nothing stood between their naked bodies.

“You’re beautiful, Jenny. You’re an angel.”

She blushed, because she knew he really did think so.

They explored each other’s bodies with their hands, then with their lips, kissing every spot from head to toe, needing to know their partner. Then they put their hands in each other’s parts. Jenny felt a rock hard, warm member ready to love her in every way and Thomas felt a drooling slit, soft and tender, begging of that love.

They started masturbating each other while still standing and kissing. Thomas was gently massaging her clit, pressing and caressing in an expert way, making Jenny tremble a little, while she was stroking his dick gently, often pausing because of the pleasure he gave her. Being touched felt great, but what was making her lose her mind was being touched while holding his hard dick in her hands, feeling how long it took for her small hand to stroke it all the way and feeling him leaking precum.

Thomas felt how moist her pussy was, but he knew she was a virgin. He stopped stroking her clit and was about to tell her to get on the bed so he could lick her, but she had other plans. As soon as he let go of her pussy, in a swift movement, she kneeled before him and put her face under his cock, looking up to him with puppy eyes. She opened her mouth, and she took him inside, trying to go all the way to the base, only to choke and take it out.

“Easy, girl…” said Thomas softly, caressing her cheek. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and went back to his cock. This time she focused only on the tip, slowly trying to take a little more every time she could.

Thomas was breathing heavily as the feeling of her blowjob was filling his balls with cum. It wasn’t the best technique, but her sheer love for it was arousing him to levels he had never reached before. Arousal was becoming an issue for Jenny too.

The feeling of having Thomas in her mouth, so hard and pulsing with pleasure, forcing her jaw open and sliding on her tongue was making her wet pussy ache in desperation. Thomas put his hands on Jenny’s face and with the cock still in her mouth he said to her:

“I want to take you. Now. I need to take you.”

Jenny felt a throb both in her heart and in her pussy. She quickly got on the bed and spread her legs, revealing how her thighs were covered in wet pussy lube.

“Come here…” she invited him.

Thomas got on top of her and in between her legs.

“Are you sure?” he said to her, genuinely concerned about how she felt.

“I’m sure, Tommy. I want you to make love to me. Am I good enough for you?”

Now it was his heart’s turn to throb, as well as his cock’s.

“More than good. You’re perfect.”, he resolutely assured her, with a quivering in his voice.

With the hesitation gone he started poking at her pussy’s entrance, before gently putting the tip in. Jenny could feel his girth and was already hurting but wanted him to fill her up; so she gladly endured it.

Thomas was now pushing his dick deeper inside her, slowly and gently. Her pussy was bleeding, so he was a little worried, but she was so tight he couldn’t stop thinking about the pleasure. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he managed to go all the way inside her. Jenny was a little tearful, both from the pain and the joy of being one with him.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Tommy. Thank God it’s you…”

He wiped her tears off her cheeks and decided it was time to confess his feelings to her:

“I love you, Jenny. I wish I had realized it sooner, but I know it now. This may not be my first time, but you are my first love.”

The tears started pouring back from Jenny’s eyes and Tommy embraced her and kissed her, always staying inside her, but staying still, not moving. After kissing him for a while Jenny told him she felt better and was ready for him to move.

What followed was a passionate love making where both were experiencing pleasure beyond anything they thought was possible. Tommy reveled in her tight virgin pussy, so eager and wet from both juices and blood. It was a feeling incomparable to the girls he had before, and he kept plowing her with only his animal instincts guiding him. Jenny was in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations: horny and in love, in pain and in pleasure, crying but with joy. She was thrusting her hips into him ignoring the pain and accepting the pleasure. And she was looking at him. His chiseled body sweating down on hers. She brought his head closer to her shoulder and whispered in his ear:

“I’m in love with you Tommy. I’m in love with you and I’m about to cum…”

Those words awakened something in Thomas. He pounded her with even more vigor, always careful not to make the pain surpass the pleasure.

“I want us to cum together. I’ll come with you,” he said while panting to her ear.

“Yes Tommy, give it to me! Make me yours!”.

Their breath kept getting shorter and their voices louder, until finally, moaning like animals in heat, they orgasmed in a hectic spasm. Jenny felt Tommy’s blasts of semen filling her pussy and abandoned herself to the pleasure, almost passing out on the bed in a state of bliss. All the while Tommy was feeling his cock being milked dry by her pulsing pussy and held her by the hips so that the spasm wouldn’t make him pull out.

They were both satisfied.

As they both recovered from the intensive climax, he lied down beside her and put her in his arms once again, holding her tight. She kissed him and put her head on his chest. She closed her eyes.

They were both in love.

By Jane Doe Stuff 03 for Literotica

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 02:28:23 +0000

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 2

Dancing, and other forms of sentimentality.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

As we finished the prep work, I asked Wilma about her day with Mary.

"She is a good kid but is carrying a lot of anger and shame. We spent most of the day getting in touch with that anger. It takes some people years before they can express their emotions through art; it took her about five minutes. But we had to take some breaks to clean up the paint splatters afterward before they stained."

"Oh shit! Sorry about that. I can pay to replace anything that;"

"Nothing to apologize for; I asked her to express how she felt, and she did it in the way that felt right to her."

"Well, I appreciate your taking the time. I am just her big brother; I feel so lost when it comes to parenting."

"Being a parent doesn't mean that you know any more than anyone else, and it certainly doesn't mean that you know any better. For what it's worth, I think you are doing a fine job with your family. I know that you don't have your parents around to say it, but this old woman is mighty proud of who you are and of how you have stepped up for your brother and sisters. They are very lucky to have you."

I turned away so that Wilma wouldn't see me getting choked up. I couldn't remember the last time that someone had said they were proud of me. Soon enough, though, it was dinner time, and Erin came into the kitchen with that same look of amusement on her face.

"Sorry to bother the chef, but Lane needs some help that only a big brother can provide."

When I gave her a quizzical look, she blushed.

"It seems like he is going through puberty, which can pose; some new challenges. When I was assessing his ankle, he; well, indicated his interest in me in a way that can be difficult to hide, particularly while wearing sweatpants. It's natural for his body to react that way at that age, and it's nothing for him to feel badly about, but he was mortified. I think he could use a bit of brotherly guidance and understanding."

I went to the living room and saw that Lane was curled up on the couch and looked like he was fighting back tears.

"How are you doing, Buddy?"

He couldn't even look at me he was so embarrassed.

"I am so sorry; I just couldn't help it. I don't know why it started to get bigger, and I wanted it to stop, and it wouldn't and then she saw me, and;" he continued as he fought back a sob. "Can we just go home?"

"Erin is a doctor. She knows how the human body works and has seen that kind of thing a hundred times. She isn't mad at you or embarrassed. She just feels bad that you feel so bad. This is just part of getting older and growing up.

"Did I ever tell you about what happened in Miss Iron's class when I was a freshman?

Miss Iron was a bit of a legend among the male students at our local high school. She was the youngest and prettiest teacher, by far, and even though she always dressed professionally, the clothing style had yet to be invented that could fully conceal her bountiful natural endowment.

"Well, I liked Miss Irons a lot. She was one of the few teachers who looked past my difficulty with reading and writing. So, I developed a little crush on her, which was fine until the inevitable; hmm, physical demonstration of my crush; happened in class one day, just before she asked me to collect everyone's quizzes. I tried to delay, I tried to ask a friend to do it instead, but eventually, I had to stand up. It took me until my junior year to live that one down."

As Lane listened to my story, he turned to face me and his second-hand embarrassment for me helped to push his embarrassment to the side.

"So, what happened?"

"Miss Irons was lovely and kind like she always was, but I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me or to get hit by a bolt of lightning. Things would have been fine if she hadn't mentioned what happened to the principal, who called Mom. She didn't find the story funny at all."

I hadn't thought of the aftermath when I started telling Lane this particular story, but as they say, might as well put it in four-wheel drive and keep going.

"Mom was mad?"

"By then, Mom was pretty much always angry. I did my best to keep her away from you and the girls when she got that way, but yeah; she was mad."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, Bud, I'm not. In a few years, once your embarrassment has died down a little, I will tease you mercilessly about this because that's what brothers do; and maybe threaten to tell your girlfriend, if you fall behind on your chores or homework. But I will never get mad at you for something that you can't control. And I promise that Erin isn't mad at you either."

JupiterMars. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

December 1954, Near New Haven Connecticut

Christmas Moonlight by the Glenn Miller Band played on the RCA Victor radio as Lillian O'Brady looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She was happy with the way she looked in her wedding dress. The sleeveless, tea-length gown gave her a flirtatious and fun look but not so much that she gave away traditional modesty. The slender bodice and fuller skirt emphasized the curves of her chest and hips.

She had made the dress herself from a McCall's pattern and was very proud of how it came out. Not only did it compliment her body but also her frugal lifestyle. As she pivoted around to check all the angles there was a knock at the door.

"It's time for your hair. Can we come in?" a familiar voice asked.

"Sure," Lillian responded.

Moments later her older sister Susie and her mother Faye walked into the room.

"Oh you look simply beautiful," Faye said as Susie picked up a brush and got to work on Lillian's hair.

Faye took both of Lillian's hands and held them out. "To be honest, I wasn't sure about you making your own wedding dress, but it came out superb. I guess my idea of a wedding gown is all frills and bows, but you look divine in a simple dress."

Lillian smiled, "Thank you. Do you think Bill will like it?"

"Oh of course he will," Faye responded.

"Yeah, every guy in the church is going to be jealous that he bagged such a doll," her sister added as she worked out some small imperfections in her hair.

"Thanks," Lillian said again this time with a bit of a nervous smile.

"Oh honey, are you worried?" her mother asked.

Lillian gave a little nod.

"Don't be. Bill's a wonderful guy. He's handsome, responsible, has a good job and loves you very much."

"I know, I know, it's not that? "

"Well is it the reception? Don't worry about that, you've planned it perfectly. And a Christmas wedding is always special. Not only does it add to this holiday but you will remember it fondly for every Christmas to come."

"No, it's not that."

"It's the sex isn't it?" Her sister blurted out smirking.

Lillian bit her lower lip and looked down in silent acknowledgment of Susie's guess.

"Oh dear, Lilian, why are you worrying about that on this wonderful day?" asked her mother.

"I don't know, I've nothing to relate it to and don't know what to expect."

"Well, it's the most natural thing a man and a woman can do so you shouldn't worry about it."

"Unless it hurts," her sister jumped in.

Lillian's look turned concerned, "What do you mean?"

"Well, when me and Bob first did it; it felt like I was getting stabbed with a piece of wood down there. We spent the whole night trying to get it in. It took weeks before I could get comfortable with it."

"Stop it Susie. Don't scare your little sister on her wedding day," Faye interjected. "Lillian, not every woman is like that. That wasn't my experience or your aunt's. To be honest, when your father gets me going I get so wet down there a Studebaker could slide through."

"Who's doing the scaring now Mom?" said Susie. "We don't need to hear about you and dad."

That comment broke the tension and made Lillian giggle. She then asked, "But what if he doesn't like my body? Or if I'm bad at it? Or something embarrassing happens?"

"Darling, never fear your own body. And you're the woman, when it comes to sex there's not much you can do that's bad or embarrassing."

"Um again not true," her sister commented as she put the finishing touches on Lillian's hair. "One time I went to straddle Bob and I accidentally kneed him right in the testicles. He was in pain for days."

"Susie please stop it. You're not helping."

"Okay Mom, you're right," Susie said. "Lillian, the only thing you should worry about is if he finishes before you even get going."

"That's it," her mother said loudly. "I'm ending this conversation."

In a calming voice, Faye looked Lillian in the eyes and said, "Honey losing your virginity is a big deal. Having sex is a big deal. It's normal to be nervous, but that's part of the experience. When you have sex you're naked and exposed and feel vulnerable but at the same time you know you're safe and comfortable with the one you love. All those feelings blend inside of you to create a sense of anticipation like nothing else you've ever felt. And when done right nothing else makes you feel so complete, so loved, and so happy."

Lillian smiled at her mother, "Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome,'' her mother assured before looking at her watch. "Oh my, we've got to be going. You look perfect. Get your shoes on while I have Aunt Margaret bring the car around."

As Lillian slipped her feet into her white shoes Susie said, "Don't worry about it little sister. You two are going to be alone in that Vermont cabin for a week. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"You think?"

"Of course. A week of skiing and sex, what better way to learn the 'ins and outs' of intercourse?"

Both women giggled before their mother yelled, "Hurry up, we don't want to be late."

The car ride to the church was quick and quiet. This left Lillian to mull over the earlier conversation. It seemed odd that it was her square mother that had talked about the positives of sex and her hipster older sister who talked about the negatives. Who was she to believe?

Her preoccupation continued in the backroom of the church as her mother helped her put on her veil and white satin gloves. After the reception, she and Bill would spend their first night together. Their first sex would surely happen there. He must be expecting it. What if everything on this day is perfect until that point and then something bad happens with the sex? It would ruin everything. Her troublesome thoughts were interrupted when she heard the organ begin to play.

Her father appeared in the room to walk her down the aisle. "Go!" her mother whispered. "And don't slouch!"

The advice reminded Lillian of the many times her mother had corrected her posture. She was right to do so here, if she slouched in this dress it would have ruined the look she had planned for. And if her mother was right about her posture she was probably right about the sex too.

The church was decorated for the season, with tent-draped garland accented with berries and classic red ribbon. Elegant glass ornaments were added to the chandeliers and the altar was framed with evergreens adorned with white lights. At the center of the altar was Bill.

He looked great in his black three-piece suit and grinned as she approached. 'So manly' she thought. Not just in his good looks but in who he was. He always treated others fairly, honored his commitments, and made sound decisions. He was a man she could be comfortable with and knew she would be safe with.

When she arrived next to him, in a carefully choreographed motion, he lifted her veil. Gazing into her eyes he smiled a nervous but excited smile. She held his gaze as the minister started speaking.

The service seemed to go very quickly. She heard the minister's voice but didn't hear what he was saying. Before she knew it Bill was saying his vows. Then it was her turn to say hers. A moment later they were pronounced man and wife. The minister held up some mistletoe and told Bill that he could kiss his bride. And after a wonderful kiss to the sound of applause, they were married.

As Lillian walked down the aisle with her now husband Bill, all the attendees rang Christmas bells that they had been given when they arrived. It was an exciting sound, one which matched the festive season but also marked change. It was the beginning of their life together.

The receiving line was traditional but arduous. At the end was her Aunt Margaret, her mother's older sister. Lillian expected the same, 'you are a beautiful bride' compliment. She was surprised, however, when her aunt said, "Your mother told me about your concern."

Lillian hoped she was not talking about her sex concerns, but knew it would be just like her mother to kibitz with her aunt. Before Lillian could say anything Margaret started,

"Yeah and I want to tell you a little story. A few years ago I had no idea what your Uncle Carl was getting me for Christmas. I kept finding brochures about vacuum cleaners, Hoovers, Kirby's, and Electrolux. So I started thinking he is going to get me a vacuum cleaner. I was getting all worked up, 'like he probably thinks he's doing me a favor and that I will like it.' But I'm not going to like a vacuum cleaner as a Christmas gift. I'll end up getting mad at him on Christmas Day right in front of the kids. Anyway, Christmas came and I was all tense and ready for something unpleasant. Then he handed me this small box and in it was a silver bracelet. It was the nicest self-inflicted surprise of my life. So what I'm saying is when it comes to sex sometimes you think you're getting a vacuum cleaner but you end up with a silver bracelet."

Lillian was taken aback. She was not surprised that her aunt had no compunction about saying something embarrassing, yet that didn't prevent her from being caught not knowing how to respond. She looked at her aunt's face, patted one of her hands, and smiled. "Thank you Auntie. I can always count on you to say something profound."

Before Margret could respond, Bill saved his bride. "Come along dear, we need to get to the reception," he said, hooking his arm under hers and hurrying her out the door.

The cold winter's air nipped at her exposed skin. "Burr, it's cold," she gasped as they jogged down the snow-covered sidewalk. "Careful I can't run in this dress!"

Bill's Chevrolet Bel Air 4-door sedan was parked at the curb just ahead, decorated with a 'just married' sign, holiday-colored crepe paper, and a dozen Campbell's soup cans tied to the rear bumper. Lillian's brother-in-law, Bob, had the engine running and held the rear door open allowing them a quick escape from the cold.

They settled into the backseat and as soon as the door closed Lilian slid close to her new husband, her voice was sweet, "We're married now."

"Best Christmas present I could ever want," he replied before kissing her passionately.

They had kissed plenty of times before but this felt different. Maybe it was the excitement of the day, maybe it was knowing that they were now committed to each other. Or maybe it was knowing that much more physical activity was on the way. Lilian felt her heart race and butterflies in her stomach. The passion was cut short when Bob got into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.

"Here we go kids," he said.

Lillian laughed as he jerked the car into traffic. She knew that Bob was the type who would organize a horn-honking chase through town as they made their way to the reception. She and Bill had talked about it, and neither wanted such a parade but agreed to it because it gave them a few minutes of alone time in the middle of the festivities.

The Allen was a small hotel but it was perfectly equipped for the reception. Its snow-covered 1920s architecture gave the perfect Christmas aesthetic and the medium-sized dining and dancing room matched the couple's guest list and modest budget.

The room was an elegant blend of romance and holiday festive. Greenery was hung near the tables adding a subtle scent of winter. In one corner was the band wearing matching red and green vests. In the other corner was a well-stocked bar and a Santa-looking bartender. An overabundance of twinkle lights strung along the ceiling basked the room with a cozy white glow.

The reception kicked off with the bride and groom dancing to a rendition of Baby, It's Cold Outside. They danced beautifully together. Bill held her close to him, his hand rested lightly in the middle of her naked back, and her arm slipped around his neck.

"You have a lovely figure," he said.

Lilian gazed up at him and smiled. The twinkling light glistened in her gray eyes. "I'm glad you like it."

When the dance ended they were once again serenaded by the sound of the Christmas bells that they had given to the guests.

The next hour was a flurry of activity. Between dinner, conversation and photos everyone was active. The booze flowed easily and the room echoed with laughter. By the time it came to cut the cake it was obvious to Lillian that everyone was having a good time.

After the cake, the band got everybody out on the dance floor. They played the perfect balance of fun and fast with slow and romantic. They even mixed in Christmas songs such as Winter Wonderland, Merry Christmas Baby, and Let it Snow. It was the perfect way to blend the happiness of the event with the joy of the season.

Before Lillian knew it, it was late and the crowd began to thin. She was busy saying goodbyes when she heard the band play their last song and wish everyone a Merry Christmas. She looked up and saw Bill talking to his cousins. She noticed how splendid he looked even at the end of the night. All the other men had taken off their coats and loosened their ties, but not Bill. He looked just as good as he had at the ceremony. At that moment she knew she was ready, ready to be with him, ready to share her body with him, and momentarily they would be doing just that.

That's when she heard her mother hollering. She looked over to see her sister happily slouched in a seat on the corner of the dance floor. Her husband Bob was trying unsuccessfully to get her to her feet. Lillian walked over and asked, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong, I'll tell you what's wrong," her mother Faye cackled. "Your sister has had too much champagne and your poor brother-in-law can't get her back to their room."

Lillian was about to offer assistance when Bill appeared at her side and said, "Can I help?"

"Oh Bill, thank you so much," Lillian's mother exclaimed. "Both you girls are lucky to have such good men as husbands."

Lillian gave Bill a little kiss and then whispered, "Thank you. I'll be in the room waiting for you."

"Okay," he replied with an odd look.

As Bill and Bob got her sister on her feet she seemed to regain some of her senses. She looked at Bill then looked at Lillian and drunkenly giggled, "You two have fun tonight."

Suzie leaned into Lillian and whispered, "One piece of advice, be on top."

"Okay, Okay that's enough," Her mother crowed. "Boys let's get her to her room before she does something really embarrassing."

Lillian made her way to their room and back-flopped onto the bed as soon as the door was shut. She giggled to herself, she hadn't had that much fun in a long time. The ceremony, the reception, the dancing, and the champagne made it a perfect day. This was the perfect time to finally have sex. She felt ready, maybe even excited about it. She thought, 'I'll get naked and be waiting for Bill. He'll love that. Opening the door to find me ready for sex. Yes, that is what I'll do. I'll just close my eyes and rest for a few minutes first.'

Lillian woke with a startle. She didn't know where she was. She sat up and found Bill sleeping next to her. She then realized she was still in her wedding dress. That's when it hit her, she'd fallen asleep waiting for Bill. When he got to the room he must've crawled up next to her rather than waking her up.

A feeling of dread overcame her. She had ruined the night by falling asleep. They were supposed to have their first sex on their wedding night but they didn't. They didn't because she'd fallen asleep. She felt horrible.

She began shaking him, "Bill wake up. Wake up Bill. Wake up."

Groggily he rose to consciousness, "Wha. What is it?"

"I fell asleep. I fell asleep and now it's morning."

"Umm; Okay?"

"No, not okay. We were supposed to have sex. We were supposed to consummate our marriage. Why didn't you wake me up when you got back to the room?"

Now fully awake he could see Lillian's distress, "You were sound asleep. It was a big day, a busy day. It's understandable that you were tired. I was tired too."

"But we're supposed to have our first sex on our wedding night!"

"Says who?"

That question made her stumble, "I don't know who but I know that's what they say."

With a calming tone, he said, "Honey, it's okay. There's no rule or tradition that says you have to do it on your wedding night. We can do it tonight, or tomorrow night. We're married now so we have every night for the rest of our lives to do it."

His sincere tone and soothing words settled her emotions. "So you're not mad?"

"Of course not."

"What about disappointed?"

"No," he replied as he pulled her into a hug. "Now stop fretting. Let's get cleaned up and on the road. The mountains of Vermont await."

Lillian felt better knowing her husband seemed okay with missing wedding night sex but she couldn't help but be disappointed in herself. She felt as if she had ruined the perfect opportunity for their first sex.

The remainder of the morning was busy. Lillian and Bill cleaned up, had breakfast, and checked out of the hotel. After that, they packed the car for their ski retreat honeymoon and headed out.

Lillian watched the Vermont countryside roll by. The blend of snow and ice added a beautiful and magical glow to the outside. She saw men shoveling their driveways and children sledding. She acknowledged that this was her future now. She had a husband and that made her a wife. Soon there would be a home and kids and with any luck domestic bliss.

It was something she looked forward to, but there was still the sex part. She couldn't have kids without sex. She knew she shouldn't worry but she couldn't help but have doubts. Their first night was a bust. What if the next time was a bust as well? What if she didn't like it? What if she disappoints him? What if she couldn't get past her nervousness? She sat quietly with her worries.

The final thirty miles was treacherous mountain driving with narrow roads and sharp turns. The last mile was not so much a plowed road as it was packed snow with tire ruts.

A Virgin’s Christmas Wish.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 02:28:23 +0000

A lonely damsel gets a chance at neighbor’s Christmas ‘Yule, Log’.

Based on a post by virgin_sexpert. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

On Christmas Eve, I should have been out spending time with family or friends, but instead, I was in my sparsely-filled apartment, with a wine glass in my hand; all dressed up but nowhere to go. I put on my gold sequin mini dress thinking that I could maybe go out to a club.

But when the time came, I wasn't really feeling it. I had just moved to a new city; far from my family and friends; and although I had enjoyed the freedom of walking around in the nude whenever I wanted, it was getting a bit lonely. I never pictured myself in my early twenties and still single. All of my friends were either married, engaged, or dating. I was totally lagging behind. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.

In college I could barely concentrate on class and I never took notes because I was always thinking and developing some sexual fantasy in my head that took my full attention. I go by ‘Mindy’. My parents named me Melinda, but I hate that name. I hate a lot of the things associated with high school. I was a wierdo. Then in college, I was a nerd.

At work in the library, I would have to take frequent breaks to my office where I would unwind to a few dirty pages of a dirty novel. Sex was on my mind, way too much. Every man that I would see throughout my day, became the leading male in my latest fantasy. I must have been the horniest virgin who ever lived! But no one ever knew.

I deliberately moved to a new city, just so I could start over. I changed my wardrobe and my hair style. But I had a very hard time changing my inner self.

I could have spent another night with my oiled up hand, or the new vibrator that I ordered online. Or I could have been a little kinkier and did some anal play with my handy-dandy pink ass plug, but I wanted the real thing, damnit!

I went on the pill, to make sex safer for my career plans. It grew my tits from a C cup to a D. And it also kicked up my libido. The holiday season really heightened my horniness, but it also heightened my loneliness. I wanted a man so bad. I wanted to hear a knock at my door, then open it and see a naked man on the other side, tied up with a big red ribbon tied in a bow, sporting an 8 inch stiff cock, just for me.

But I guess that was all just fantasy. When would my fantasies come to pass? Aren't I allowed to get at least one of them?

No matter how hard I wished and wanted something, it would never come to pass, so I decided to get up and go to a night club, downtown. Nothing ever came out of these things, but maybe tonight there would be some holiday magic working in my favor. Or maybe only losers would be desperate enough to be clubbing on Christmas Eve. But I was lusty, lonely, and stir-crazy.

When I opened the door to my 4th floor hallway, my neighbor was just coming home. His door and mine were near each other. The hallway turned perpendicular right between our entries. Our two apartments were at the northeast corner of the 4^th floor of the West building.

"Hey, how are you, Mindy?" he asked. His name was John. He was older than me by perhaps some years, and he was way out of my league. Oh, he was always very cordial to me, but it always seemed out of pity. John is a tall and comes from Scandinavian stock. His mailbox, in the foyer; says “J. Nelson”.

I bet tonight his beautiful girlfriend would be coming over, maybe in sexy lingerie; and they would spend the evening making love, talking, and drinking wine.

"Hi, John. I’m Good! and you?" I asked back with a flirty smile.

He looked so handsome, with his all-black ensemble, and red silk tie. I couldn't help but smile goofily, in the face of this great looking man. I didn't know what he did for a living, but every night I could hear him playing his acoustic guitar. I laid in bed with my hands in my panties; pretending he was serenading me. But of course he would never know that.

"Yeah, I’m Fine. Merry Christmas! Where are you heading out to?" I could feel his stare on me, and it was making me quite bashful and self-conscious. I’ve been working so hard to keep eye contact with people.

I knew I looked great in my form-fitting dress. It highlighted my warm olive Italian skin, long slim legs, deep red full lips, and dark wavy hair. Okay, I’m keeping focused on John’s gorgeous eyes.

"Oh, I think I'll get go to a dinner club, or something.” Then I sighed; “I am spending the holidays alone."

"Oh, Me too!" He started.

I was surprised at his answer, and I almost didn't believe him. How could someone this handsome be alone?

Then he shocked me; "Do you maybe want to spend it alone together? I just stole some nice wine from my company holiday party? I was going to come home and drink alone. But, you know; it's really not good to drink alone.” He winked and added; “Please, Mindy; Skip the bar tonight and come in." He was opening the door and gesturing for me to come in.

I followed him in without a word. I had only dreamed about ever going in there. It was better than I had imagined! There was lots of navy, platinum, and teak wood furnishings. His home kinda smelled of leather and a subtle hint of vanilla.

We sat in the elegant living room. I was offered his wingback arm chair, adjacent the leather sofa. When he situated himself, he first started out apologizing to me for being such an aloof neighbor. He said he sort of developed this bad habit when his previous neighbors were rude.

I forgave him, as long as he promised never to stop being friendly again.

We sat drinking his sweet white wine. He had lots of questions to ask me, in the matters of my life, job, and interests.

I told him that I was a teen freak, then a college nerd. I love literature to a fault. I’m even into comic book superheroes, collecting replica Lightsabers, reading classic novels, and watching way too much Netflix. I told him that I used to be a shy kid with ADHD, but it leveled out during my college years.

I seemed very lame to myself, saying those things out loud. I revealed that I was just recently liberated from the thick eyeglasses of my childhood, by a successful laser eye surgery. “Most people didn’t even recognize me without the horrible glasses.” But I added that it’s probably all for the better, as I would rather build new friendships.

"So,” I asked him; “What type of things are you into?"

"Lots of things, gourmet cooking, chess, running, watching way too much Hulu, playing the guitar,” He sipped a bit more wine, then added; “sketching, and tying up sexy women, to play with their nipples and tease their clits. "

I nearly choked on the wine that was almost down my throat. Suddenly my body temperature rose at least 10 degrees, and my hands began to tremble.

He looked at me, straight into my big doe-like brown eyes. "Do you want to know what else I am into?"

I tilted my head, as if I were under a spell.

"Beautiful, shy women, like you; who don't know how sexy they are. A woman who gets wet when a man looks her deep in the eyes, and tells her that.” His voice went deep as he slowly added; “I want to fuck every hole you have, and make you cum, again and again.“

I was flushed and trembling, when he asked; “So, I ask again, my dear; what are you into?" He took the glass from my trembling hand and took my hand into his, and laid a sweet kiss on it.

With a trembling voice I began: "I really like to write erotica, especially at night when I am listening to you play your guitar. I like to close my eyes and wish that someone was touching me, whispering how much they want to make love to me; " I closed my eyes and took myself to my inner thoughts. My eyes watered at his sultry words. I was being seduced for the first time in my life!

I could feel him getting closer to me, his lip brushed against my ear. "I really like this;" I said as I felt the heat of his breathing, on my neck.

"You are your own kind of beautiful, Mindy." He told me.

I opened my eyes, hoping that this wasn't just another dream. In the back of my mind I already started to ask myself the 'why' and 'how' questions, but why ruin a sexy moment? I was completely flattered and could not hide my obvious turned on state. Already I could feel the wetness between my legs.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" John grinned.

My smile widened. "Honestly, You are making me wet," I laughed. I was never that frank about sex. But then again, I never really had a chance to be.

"Do you always do this to women you invite inside." I asked, with keen interest and looking him in the eyes.

"Have there been women in here that I’m unaware of?” John returned my question.

I had to challenge my presumption. No, I honestly hadn’t seen him bring a date to his place. “I’m sorry, John. No, I haven’t any reason to accuse you of being a player. I just assumed you’d have women throwing themselves at you.”

“Ha!” he laughed. “No, I am just in the Christmas spirit, I guess. It's the season for giving. I find myself in solitary circumstance, and reflecting on the need to appreciate the opportunities I haven’t availed myself to. Start treating people better. Especially kind neighbors whom I should be kinder to. And I want to give you something. Something even your wildest virgin fantasies can't imagine."

"Now, how did you know I was a virgin?" I felt more exposed than ever.

"I didn't. But, now I know for sure," he laughed.

I blushed, but his laugh made it easier for me to relax and be vulnerable. Oh he was even sexier when he laughed.

"I know you probably think that no one notices you, but I notice you.” John wanted to build up my self-esteem. “I see you coming home, and you nearly always pull out the wrong door key first. You are always humming the same song to yourself, and you are always dressed so sexily. I especially like that purple dress; it makes your lovely breasts look great."

My cheeks were so bright red, I didn't even know what else to say back to him. I felt so sexy now.

"And I must say, I love this dress on you.” He paused, then added; “But for me to give you a proper Christmas Eve gift, you will have to lose it."

"You want me to strip?" I smiled. I was hoping he was serious, because my clothes were begging to come off. ‘Thank you God, for sending me this sexy horny man!’

"Yes! Have another glass of wine, if you'd like. But I want you to strip, and then walk right into my bedroom over there."

John is inviting me to his bedroom! I was nervous, but even more so, I was terribly craving cock, his cock. With alcohol running through my veins, and 'bold' becoming my new middle name.

I stood facing John. Then I stepped up on his wooden coffee table. Still looking him in the eyes with lust, I pulled the halter tie from the back of my neck. I was swaying to an imaginary base rift, as I held a tie string in each hand.

My shoulders pulsed alternately, which caused my tits to swing against my gold bodice. Now my nipples were erect and protruding. I leaned over toward John as my straps released. Still swaying and twerking to my imaginary music, I reached behind to unzip the low-back of the dress; all the while entertaining him with my pendulous tits.

Then I placed a hand on each hip, as I stood back upright. I turned in several steps as I rocked my curvy ass to him, Then I slowly slid each hand down my hips, the thin dress descending with my hands. Before releasing, I looked over my shoulder, to catch his reaction. His eyes clearly conveyed; ‘Keep going’; so I did. I was being a tease, and he was into it.

The garment dropped to my stilettos. I stepped out of my gold cocktail dress, leaving only my black lacy G-string and my high heels.

Suddenly my rhythm stopped. I stood with my ass to him. I stepped my legs apart just enough to let my cunny make an appearance. In dramatic silence I slowly slid the waistband of the G-string down, guiding it continuously to my ankles. I caught his delightful lust, as I smiled seductively, from between my spread legs.

I stepped a leg out of the G-string and pivoted back facing him. Then I raised my other foot, with the lacy garment clinging to my toes. I swiftly grabbed the skimpy thing and in one fluid motion I stretched it back with my other hand, and shot the black lacy thing against his chest.

Now in front of him, I stood completely naked; like I was almost every night on the other side of that wall. Yes, I had practiced this routine; often to the rhythm of his classical guitar selections.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 1

Love, bastards, and what we leave behind.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

The Plumber, The Painter, and the Wind off the Lake

Prologue

I have never been much for following instructions or doing what I'm told.

In eighth grade, we were assigned to make a volcano in science class. I figured that if the eruption looked good with a couple of tablespoons of baking soda, then it would look even better with the whole container! And what better place for a natural disaster than the teacher's desk at the front of the class. I was right; the whole container of baking soda produced an impressive explosion. What I didn't count on, however, was it producing a week-long suspension from school and a beating from my mother.

In high school, we had to take an art class to graduate. Our teacher loved still life drawing and would ramble endlessly about how it revealed the beauty that is in the everyday objects that surround us. I guess he wanted us to reveal the beauty in the bowl of fruit that he had put in the middle of the classroom, but the most beautiful things that I could see were Brittany Johnson's D-cups which filled out her sweater gloriously. At the end of the class, there were 29 drawings of a bowl of fruit and one drawing of a beautiful girl's smile (amongst other details). Although I was suspended for two days, I got a date with Brittany who loved my drawing, so I feel like I came out ahead on that one.

In my last year of school, the final mathematics exam asked the following question:

Determine the points of intersection between the following parabolas and lines. Illustrate fully.

While the other students slaved away to solve the listed problems in the allotted time, I fully illustrated a drawing of our math teacher, Mr. Aaronson, dancing a slow waltz in a field of sunflowers with Mrs. Stevens, the geography teacher. It was the worst-kept secret in the school that our two shyest teachers had massive crushes on each other, and after four years of watching them pine away, I thought they could use a little push.

I failed the test, but Mr. Aaronson showed my drawing to Mrs. Stevens during a particularly dull staff meeting, and when it made her blush and smile, he finally got up the courage to ask her out. They are now married and have a little girl who is as cute as a button. At the end of the year, Mr. Aaronson asked me if I planned to pursue math in the future, and when I assured him that I did not, he gave me a passing grade.

So, what was my problem, you might ask? Was I just one of those kids who didn't give a shit and was destined for mediocrity or failure in life? Like many things, the answer is more complicated than it might first appear, but I am getting ahead of myself. Our story starts on an unusually cold and blustery afternoon in late October, on the north-eastern shore of Lake Michigan about a half hour's drive north of Petoskey, just outside a village called Good Hart.

Chapter 1.

It had been a busy day. The perfect storm of an early season snap freeze, strong winds, and lake-effect snow meant that there was a couple of inches of snow on the still soggy ground, along with a number of leaky or burst pipes, malfunctioning valves, and boiler issues as people cranked their heating systems up to full for the first time that year. As a plumber, though, I didn't mind. It just meant more work for me, which was always a good thing.

At only 25 years of age, and despite being a master plumber, I was generally the last choice for folks to call, even in an emergency. Anyone with money chose one of the larger and more established plumbing contractors, leaving me with the jobs that they didn't feel were worth their time or effort. That's how I found myself pulling into the laneway of an older house, just off Lamkin Road down by the lake, late that Friday afternoon. It was my last job of the day, but I would be working over the weekend to catch up on my backlog, so I wanted to get it done.

The house looked like it hadn't been updated since it was built, likely in the late fifties or early sixties, other than a couple of coats of paint and a new roof when the original finally gave up the ghost. The front gardens were neatly tended, however, and the property itself was stunning, with panoramic views in three directions out over the lake. The sun was just beginning to dip toward the western horizon as I drove up, so the trees cast long shadows across the laneway.

The house was owned by Mrs. Wilma C. Anderson, who had called me earlier in the day to say that some of her radiators weren't working and that her boiler was making one hell of a racket when she turned it on. I told her to shut the system down and that I would look at it by the end of the day. She sounded quite elderly, and I didn't like the idea of her going without heat for a night during a cold snap.

I rang the doorbell and waited until a tiny wisp of a woman answered. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall and looked older than the hills, but her face was full of life, and her eyes had a twinkle that spoke of humor and mischief.

"Hi, Mrs. Anderson, I'm Davis Crawford. You called earlier about some issues with your boiler and heating system. How can I help?"

Mrs. Anderson gave me an appraising look.

"I wasn't expecting you to be such a handsome young man. If I were fifty years younger, I would tell you exactly how you could help me, and then I'd teach you a trick or two I learned over the years. But I am too old for that kind of foolishness these days, so I will just have to make use of your plumbing expertise instead. And please, call me Wilma."

I couldn't help but laugh and blush at Wilma's surprisingly raunchy sense of humor. I liked her immediately.

"Let's try that again. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, the biggest problem is that I am 91 years old and dying of cancer. The doctors give me less than a year to live. But aside from that, I really can't complain. I have had a good run of it."

I cocked my head to one side and gave her a bemused look.

"Oh, you were wondering what the problem is with my heating system. Well, I turned it on this morning when I got up, and the boiler sounded like there was someone trapped inside of it trying to hammer their way out. There was a worrisome hissing from some of the radiators, as well, and they weren't heating up worth a damn.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 02:28:22 +0000

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4

Finding real love, at last.

Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

Driving home the next day felt like waking up from some kind of dream until I pulled into our driveway and Munchkin came running out to greet me. As I was getting out to reassure him that he hadn't been abandoned, the reality of my life settled right back in. I went inside, and Lane and Mary grunted their hellos without looking up.

Ah, home.

I texted Erin that I made it back safely, and she replied almost immediately saying what a great night she had, and how much she missed me already. It was going to be a long three weeks until she rotated back to the hospital in Petoskey. Luckily, life was as busy as always, and time flew by. For the first time since I was a child, I could honestly say that I was happy.

My happiness lasted until the day before Erin was scheduled to return.

I got my first inkling that something might be wrong when I called to see if Wilma wanted me to pick up any groceries for her from town. She didn't answer, which was strange, and the call went to voicemail. Even if she was napping, she was a very light sleeper and would normally answer by the third ring. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I went straight to Wilma's to make sure she was alright.

Everything seemed fine when I pulled into the yard, but there was no answer when I knocked on her door. I tried again, but there was nothing but an eerie silence. Fearing the worst, I grabbed the spare key from its hiding place and went inside. I called Wilma's name and, hearing no reply, went quickly through the house trying to find her. When I got to her bedroom, I could hear a low moaning sound from the attached washroom. I ran in and found Wilma collapsed by the bathtub. She had slipped and hit her head, injuring her hip and arm in the process. She didn't have her phone with her when she fell and had been unable to move, so who knows how long she had been lying there.

I called 911 for an ambulance and then called Erin and suggested that she meet us at the hospital. It took forever for the paramedics to arrive, and longer still to get Wilma loaded into the ambulance. By the time I got to the hospital, she was already being triaged by their emergency team.

I took a few minutes while I waited for an update on Wilma's condition to call the rest of the family and give them the news. Alison came directly to the hospital after class, and Sharon brought Mary and Lane as soon as they got home from school. Erin arrived a few hours later and broke down when she saw me. Finally, just after nine, the doctors gave Erin an update. Wilma was in rough shape; she was badly dehydrated and had a moderate concussion, a fractured wrist, and a bone bruise on her hip. It would take her weeks to recover in the hospital. The good news was that she would make a recovery, given enough time and support.

Erin and Mary decided to stay with Wilma in the hospital while Sharon dropped Alison at her dorm and drove Lane back to the house. By midnight, Mary had nodded off in a chair in the corner of Wilma's room, while I waited outside with Erin.

"You should go home, Davis. There's nothing else you can do tonight. Thank God, you found her; I am not sure what I would have done if you hadn't. I already lost Grampy; I am not ready to lose Gran as well. They are all I have."

I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close.

"You have me, now, too. And the girls. And you know Lane would do anything for you, you just need to ask. I was serious about what I said in Grand Rapids, Erin. I love you."

Erin pulled me closer but didn't reply.

The following week was a rollercoaster of emotions. Wilma was improving far quicker than the doctors had anticipated, but she would still be in rehab for at least another two weeks. It was impossible to hide Wilma's accident from the rest of the family, and they descended on the hospital like vultures; or, more accurately, their lawyers descended on the hospital while, for the most part, they stayed far away where it was warm. The one exception was Erin's stepfather, who flew in the next day.

"For Christ's sake, Erin. Haven't you done enough harm as it is? Do you want your Gran to die alone on the floor of that dingy old shack of hers? It's time for her to move into a care facility that can look after her. Be reasonable!"

When he failed to persuade Erin to act on his behalf, his attorneys requested an emergency court order, alleging that Wilma lacked the capacity to make her own medical decisions, that Erin was not acting in her best interests, and that one of Wilma's children should be appointed as her legal guardian. Wilma was furious when she learned of his actions, but there was little she could do to stop him until she was discharged from the hospital. Both sides knew that her doctor's recommendation would hold a lot of weight with the judge, and it was not good news for Wilma when it came.

"If Mrs. Anderson is to return home, she will require around-the-clock care and company. If such care can't be arranged, then I recommend that she be placed in a long-term assisted-living facility that can treat any lingering effects from her fall, and from her late-stage cancer."

Erin took the news like a physical blow, and she staggered backward to a chair. We didn't have the resources for 24-hour nursing, and it would be impossible to arrange it with such short notice even if we did.

"I'm sorry, Davis. I need to be alone for a while to think."

She left without looking back or saying goodbye to Wilma, and I just let her go. I wanted to ease her pain, but I knew that there was nothing I could do. She had lost, and her family had won. I was despondent as I made my way towards the exit, so much so that I nearly ran into Alison who was finishing up her shift at the hospital.

"You look terrible, Brother, what happened? Is Wilma alright?"

I explained to her about the doctor's recommendation and Erin's reaction.

"No one has had the heart to tell Wilma, yet. She's recovered from the fall, but this news is going to kill her."

Cold weather backpackers find exposure can take many forms.

by RORI333. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It wasn’t the 17 degree Fahrenheit temperature that had turned backpacking in the North Cascades into a life or death situation…it was the rain. As majestic as the Pacific Northwest is in late autumn, the weather can turn on you in a ferocious way! Failure to plan accordingly can lead to terrible exposure.

My friend Julie and I had set out with the intention of cold weather camping, but because of unusually heavy snowfall the access roads had limited entry to the park. The rangers advised us not to use our backcountry camping pass, but we had driven all the way from rural Oregon, and were determined to rough it out.

Julie and I met in church when we were kids, but even through youth group we never dated. Partially because I never had the courage to suggest taking our relationship beyond the best friend zone and partially because just being friends meant we could hang out together without our parents or youth leaders chaperoning us. We were both shy and inexperienced with the opposite sex having grown up in a small town church. Even though we were both eighteen now it still took some convincing and a promise that we’d use separate tents for our parents to approve the overnight outing.

Julie was athletic and curvy with pale skin, curly red hair, and bright green eyes. She was a little heavier than most of the other girls in our youth group, but it settled marvelously around her butt, and breasts, and she carried more muscle from outdoor activities. I silently adored her beauty, as she hiked in front of me. “I wonder if she ever checks me out?” I wondered as I caught myself staring at the way her wet pants clung to her behind. I’m Adam, a thin hiking and running enthusiast who has some lean muscle, but was never as built as some of the other guys in school. I didn’t play team sports so I didn’t know how my body measured up to the hometown athletes, but I had a fair idea that I was slightly more endowed than average in one area.

Several miles into our hike it started raining which didn’t seem like an urgent problem until Julie slipped on the icy wet snow and crashed down a steep embankment. She managed to grab onto some brush to slow her ascent, but was now dangling partway down a ravine that could be deadly if ascended at full speed.

“I can’t hold on Adam!” She screamed through the torrential downpour.

“Unsnap your pack!” I screamed. I was worried the added weight would cost us precious time for her to hold on. I quickly emptied my pack onto the ground and grabbed the paracord I left at the bottom. Tying part of it around a rock to anchor it, I tied a knot and threw a loop down, which she was able to carefully wrap around her torso so I could help her slowly climb up. In the process, I was violently pulled onto my front. I slammed my ribs on the rock in order to be able to pull without risking going over the slippery edge myself. With a lot of exertion I helped her back up over the edge. Julie was trembling partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline as she grabbed me for a hug and kissed my cheek.

“Stop blushing, I owe you my life!” She said as if it wasn’t the closest thing to a first kiss either one of us had experienced.

By that point all my gear was soaked and I realized we’d left the tents in her pack when we’d divided the gear. Shivering and soaking wet we pressed on for a short while until we found a rocky overhanging that I tied a poncho liner over to make a makeshift shelter front the wind and rain. It was then I noticed she had a tear down the inside of her pants and her thigh was bleeding.

“I need you to take off your pants so I can treat that wound.” I told her. She gently protested that she could do it herself so I handed her the first aid kit and turned around to give her privacy.

“Adam” she said after a minute, “I can barely move my fingers, can you help me?” I turned around and tried not to stare. She looked adorable in her jacket and wet gray cotton panties. The rain was causing her panties to stick to her and I could see the outlined shape of her vulva.

“Adam!” she snapped bringing me back to the task at hand. I cleaned the wound off, tried to get as many splinters out as I could, and wrapped it. Dressing the wound caused her legs to separate wider and I saw part of her labia peaking out from the side of her panties.

“All done!” I told her and she quickly snapped her legs shut.

While our clothes and gear were soaked, my sleeping bag was in a waterproof bag.

“Uh, I know this is awkward, but we’re going to have to get out of these wet clothes and share or we could die of hypothermia.” I told her. As dire of a situation as we were in the thought of seeing her naked caused a slight stirring below. I was probably just as nervous about undressing in my shriveled state too.

“I know we have to strip, but can we undress in the sleeping bag? I’ve never shown myself to a guy.” She was blushing and looked like she was going to cry from embarrassment.

“How about I turn around and you can strip down and get in the sleeping bag, then I’ll join you?” I offered disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see her. She nodded so I turned around until she said it was safe. Then it was my turn. She rolled over onto her other side as I turned around and stripped off my soaked shirt, jacket, boots and socks. I hooked my thumbs in my briefs and pants pulling them down in one motion. I turned around expecting to slip into the sleeping bag, behind her, and saw a pair of bright green eyes staring right at my penis. She quickly shut her eyes and rolled back over, but she had seen everything. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed that she saw me naked or that she saw me for the first time when I was cold and wet. Either way I didn’t feel like confronting her about it under the circumstances. Granted she never said she wouldn’t look, but I couldn’t believe she’d peeked after I had been such a gentleman! I felt my mostly soft penis nestle against the crevice of her butt, as I held her for warmth. We laid in awkward silence as I tried tried to ignore her hard nipples against my arm so I could get some sleep. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled before I drifted off to sleep.

“Adam,” I heard her say in the middle of the night. I didn’t open my eyes or respond right away due to exhaustion so she must have concluded I was still asleep. I felt her get up and I squinted my eyes open to see her nude form in just a pair of boots walk out the exposed part of the shelter into the moonlight. She squatted down to pee and although I couldn’t see much I did get a long look at her pale shapely bum. I was rock hard at the sight of the first naked woman I’d ever seen, but I didn’t want to get caught looking when she came in so I closed my eyes as she stood up. She tucked herself back into the bag and felt something poking her. Reaching in she grabbed hold of my shaft and quickly let go when she realized what it was. That was the last thing I remember before a beam of light hit my face several hours later.

“Wake up!” a woman’s voice said. A tall lady with a headlamp was looking down on me.

“We need to get you out here and somewhere warmer.” she informed me. I tried to respond, but couldn’t move! I struggled to retain consciousness as she she undid our sleeping bag. Julie quickly got up and all I saw was her butt, again as she was quickly wrapped in a poncho by the stranger. I was lying there with my penis completely exposed to both women, but between the bruising on my ribs and the cold I couldn’t do anything about it. The stranger after checking my ribs for obvious fractures, pulled me onto my feet, and Julie wrapped me into an emergency blanket. Her hand brushed against my penis as she tied it shut. How are we ever going to go back to normal after this I wondered? They pulled my boots on and hauled me a short ways further up the trail where I saw a large tent lit by a lantern. Inside was considerably warmer and insulated.

They gently laid me on my stomach and the stranger grabbed a medical bag.

“Get that blanket off him!” She said frantically. Julie untied the emergency blanket, and I was exposed again.

“Isn’t there another way ma'am?” I heard Julie ask.

Two college lovers continue exploring.

By the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Memorial Day was just around the corner and Sindy was excited! She and Ryan had consummated their relationship over New Year's Eve and the following few days and now the two of them were living together in her apartment.

The relationship was still a bit of a secret from Sindy's parents. They knew she had a boyfriend but they had no idea how serious the relationship was. They also had no idea that he was living in the apartment they paid for every month.

One of the things that Sindy insisted on after New Year's Eve was that Ryan had to use a condom whenever they had sex. Unlike Ryan who was about to graduate with a bachelor's degree Sindy was still a freshman and had three more years to go in school. Having a baby would have impossibly complicated her plan to get a degree and start a career.

Sindy knew Ryan was a little disappointed when she insisted on the condoms but he went along with it and the two lovers ended up having quite a vigorous sex life. It was the rare day that went by without Ryan's latex-covered cock plunging into Sindy's pussy. It rather surprised her that she liked sex as much as she did. Ryan was an attentive lover and for his part he was pleased that by having been patient with Sindy she was now a very receptive lover.

Ryan realized that Sindy was the one. For her part Sindy wanted a future with Ryan but she wanted to get her degree and her career first. Marriage would have to wait. Ryan understood this.

It was Saturday, the first day of the Memorial Day weekend and both Sindy and Ryan skipped the various parties opting instead to stay home and study for their finals. As was typical of Chicago at this time of year it was hot, humid, and thunderstorms were expected in the afternoon.

Things went fine with their studies until the afternoon when the sky turned dark. Distant thunder hinted at what was to come and in a short time there was lightning flashing in the neighborhood. Predictably the power went out due to the storm and the lack of light in the apartment ended their studies.

"Looks like it's break time." said Ryan.

Sindy concurred and decided to cook an early dinner. It was fortunate that their old school gas oven didn't need electricity so soon enough Sindy had a decent pasta dinner going. When she served it up Ryan surprised her by opening a large bottle of Cointreau that he'd been saving for graduation.

"Really?" she asked as he poured her a glass. Not that she was complaining because she loved the sweet orange liqueur. She was simply and pleasantly surprised.

"Why not celebrate? We're here, we're having a nice time, and besides, what else are we supposed to do?" he replied.

She smiled and agreed. "You're right."

The two of them sipped at their respective glasses and enjoyed a dinner that would have cost them fifty bucks at any nearby restaurant.

The power came on not long after six. They'd briefly considered getting back to their studies but quickly abandoned the idea in favor of getting ready for bed and watching a movie on TV. Sindy had a romantic movie she'd wanted to see for a long time and Ryan agreed to it. There'd been a new action flick he wanted to see but it could wait.

Sindy excused herself to change into her silk sleepshirt while Ryan converted the futon to its evening configuration. Ryan's night time outfit was simple and he just stripped down to his boxer shorts before sitting down on what was now a bed. Sindy joined him and sat next to him. As he started the movie they clinked their glasses to toast the day and settled in.

The movie wasn't going to win any awards but it was well done and full of sexual tension. Sindy and Ryan exchanged some knowing glances at some of the more subtle moments of the story. They understood the things that were implied and the impact of the story was greater because the romantic parts were implied instead of spelled out.

Sindy's hand drifted to Ryan's lap at one point. Ryan understood she was getting aroused and in turn he felt his own stirrings. His own hand slipped along her side and then down to her hip. Not feeling any panties he knew it was that sticky time of the month for Sindy. And after five months of getting to know Sindy and her body he knew she was ovulating and far more interested in sex than usual. He glanced over his shoulder at the little table where he kept his condoms and wondered when would be the right time to go get one.

He didn't mind when Sindy poured herself her third glass of Cointreau for the evening. The movie started the third act and not even fifteen minutes into it Sindy poured herself yet another glass of the orange liqueur.

The action on the screen heated up. The couple in the story had an illicit relationship and while it was romantic it was also filled with forbidden tension. The couple on the screen finally ended up in bed together and Sindy found herself wanting the same thing.

The lithe blond moved herself into Ryan's lap to watch the rest of the movie.

"Hold me." she told him and he obliged.

For Ryan this was a little bit of torture. His cock was rock hard and it was separated from Sindy's bare pussy by only the flimsy fabric of his boxer shorts. He did his best to hold still but it wasn't long before his hips moved. His hands went to Sindy's sleep shirt and started unbuttoning it.

It was a lover's code between Sindy and Ryan that if she let him take off her sleep shirt and feel her tits that they'd have sex. If she swatted his hands away and buttoned herself up then they both went along with the unspoken refusal.

But not tonight.

With the last button undone Ryan pulled open Sindy's sleep shirt and his hands went to her cute little tits. She sighed as he gently touched her all while keeping her eyes focused on the movie. She was now satisfied that she was going to get fucked.

Ryan was getting increasingly aroused as he explored her body. When he went to ease the sleep shirt off of her shoulders she leaned forward to let him take it off. In doing so she put pressure on his eager cock and he audibly moaned.

Now she was naked in his arms and she leaned back against him.

For her part Sindy was ready for sex. Watching all the action in the movie had gotten her hot and she needed Ryan's cock inside her. Spreading her legs she reached down and pulled his cock loose from his boxers and then started slowly humping herself on it.

Ryan stole another quick glance at the table where he kept the condoms. He was just about ready to interrupt his moment with Sindy to do the sensible thing when he felt her wetness sliding on the underside of his cock. Her pussy lips parted and coated his prong with her luxurious lubrication.

It was too much for him. Still, he held back.

"Sindy, what do you want to do, baby?" he whispered in her ear. He knew whatever she decided it would have to be her decision.

She said nothing and instead pushed herself against his body arching her back to catch the tip of his cock in her pussy.

In that moment Sindy knew Ryan had wanted to stop and go get a condom. The sensible part of her told her this was the right thing to do. But for the past twenty minutes she'd been feeling Ryan's hands on her body and then she'd been watching the couple on the screen fuck without a stupid rubber. And that's what she wanted, too.

His cock was in just the right spot. She knew once she started he wouldn't stop. She knew it was the wrong time of the month to be playing games like this. But all she really knew was that Ryan's bare cock was poised to be pleasingly deep inside her.

With her hands holding herself above Ryan's hips she relaxed.

The two of them sighed and moaned together as her horny and slickened pussy enveloped his cock, welcoming it into her body.

"Fuck." whispered Ryan as he felt bare pussy around his cock again.

Sindy ground herself on Ryan's lap and moved to get him as deep as she could. It felt so fucking good! His hands cupped her tits as they started to fuck. He was being gentle and slow but that wasn't what she wanted tonight.

"Ryan, fuck me like you want to own me!" she asked of him.

He responded by taking two pillows and piling them next to where the two lovers were entwined. Then she was slightly mystified when he had her lift off of him. Guiding her to the pillows he had her lay face down with her pelvis astride the pillows. Her bare ass was now aimed up into the air. They'd never done this before.

Ryan knelt behind her and briefly admired her upturned ass. A delicate fuzz of blond hair followed from her head down her spine and ended just above her ass. He thought it was sexy. Pulling her legs apart he scooted up close to her and then pressed his cock into her lewdly displayed pussy.

Sindy caught her breath as Ryan pushed all the way inside of her in one stroke. She hadn't had him this deep in some time and it was slightly uncomfortable as his cock poked into her cervix. She tried to get up on her elbows to adjust herself but Ryan quickly put a hand on her back to hold her in place. His other hand tightly gripped her right hip.

"...fuck me like you want to own me!" echoed in Ryan's head as his cock rammed deep into Sindy's pussy.

He did want to own her. And she had just told him she wanted to be owned.

He grimaced and bit his lower lip as he pulled out and then slammed deep again. He loved her with all his heart but she'd triggered something in him and right now he wanted to treat her like a whore. He wanted to own her and not just tonight but every night.

He took another look at the table that held his condoms as he started fucking her. Then he looked down at Sindy who was whimpering as he battered her womb from inside. Suddenly it was more than just sex, it was a conquest.

Sindy held on to the sheets as Ryan pounded her from behind. Tears came from her eyes in a mix of pleasure, pain, and satisfaction that she could evoke such animal lust from her tender and sensitive Ryan.

"Gahhhh!" grunted Ryan as he fucked her. He was fucking harder than he'd ever imagined he could. He loved hearing her cry out as he'd slam into her most tender place.

Usually he'd hold off cumming until Sindy was pleased but not tonight. When he felt his balls start to churn he just kept fucking. And when he felt his cum race down his cock he slammed himself into her and held her tight as he filled her pussy with his seed.

Sindy was crying at this point. It was all so emotional and she was simply overwhelmed. She'd coaxed him into fucking her bare and then was shocked when he fucked her hard like she'd asked him to do. She'd had no idea what he was capable of and she wondered if it had been such a good idea.

When Ryan's cock was done spurting the last of his seed into her belly he fell back. He was sweaty, panting, and somewhat surprised at his animal side. He ran a hand over Sindy's upturned ass and admired her sodden pussy as it started to close up again. A puddle of his cum soaked the top pillow.

With Sindy's pelvis propped up on the pillows there was another puddle of cum deep inside her pussy. The sticky fluid of her ovulation welcomed the sperm as they raced to find her ovum.

The two lovers were uncharacteristically quiet after their mutual exertions. Ryan wondered what was on Sindy's mind and she in turn wondered about Ryan. She allowed herself to snooze a bit after the physical and emotional workout. Not bothering to move she gave no thought to the fact that her pussy was still on display for Ryan.

The movie was now over and given the late hour on a weekend Ryan wasn't surprised when a softcore porn movie started up. He fondled Sindy's feet as he watched the flick unfold. It had the barest hint of a plot but soon devolved into an excuse to show some unemotional but physically impressive fucking.

It was just over an hour and at the end the movie he felt his balls churning. Moving his eyes from the end credits to Sindy's naked pussy he felt his cock get hard.

Her ankles had crossed but it was a simple matter to undo them. Gently spreading her legs he scooted up behind her and started massaging her back. When she stirred and moaned with pleasure from the back rub he prodded her pussy with his cock and then easily mounted her again.

The fervor he'd had earlier in the evening had been sated so now he fucked her at a more leisurely pace. She purred as he fucked her and kept rubbing her back.

At this point Sindy didn't care that he was in her bare again. The deed was done and all that mattered now was feeling her man enjoying her body. When he eventually seeded her again she rolled over and slept a very satisfied sleep.

Sunday morning greeted Sindy with cool fresh air coming in off the lake. Ryan had covered her up in the blankets and she could smell the fresh coffee in the kitchen. She also heard the shower going. Starting a cup of coffee she sipped on it allowing the aroma to mask the heady scent of sex that was all over her body.

Sindy traded places with Ryan when he exited the shower. They exchanged bashful pleasantries as if nothing unusual had transpired.

When she came out of the shower she toweled off her hair and was about to go get dressed for the day when Ryan grabbed her sleep shirt and held it out to her.

"We're not going anywhere today so why not wear this?"

She looked at Ryan and realized that his wardrobe for the day was just a fresh pair of boxers.

"Okay." she agreed.

A light breakfast followed and then the two of them got back into their respective studies. Three hours flew by and then Sindy got up to make a light lunch. They chatted a bit more than earlier but still avoided the topic of the previous evening.

With the lunch finished Sindy washed the few dishes involved and was on her tip toes putting them away when Ryan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. His cock slipped under her sleep shirt and his hands were already on her boobs. He leaned in and kissed her neck and she leaned into him to encourage him.

He adjusted his body and then moved against her again. This time his bare cock slid up against her pussy.

Sindy spread her legs just enough to open her pussy for him. His cock poked into her and then in just a few strokes the two of them were making love. Her hands eased down to the counter while Ryan held her by her hips as he fucked her. Her toes only barely touching the kitchen tiles.

There was no alcohol involved this time and Sindy had no illusions about what the two of them were doing. She was fucking a man she wasn't married to. Bare. She knew what it could mean but it didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was this warm wonderful man and his cock fucking her pussy.

She was about to have some other thoughts when her pussy suddenly exploded in glorious spasms. Ryan felt this and fucked her hard before filling her up with another dose of his seed.

When he let go of her body his cock slipped from her pussy and wetly slapped against his leg. He turned to go to the bathroom to clean up. Sindy felt his seed running down her leg and was mesmerized by it for a moment. Then she grabbed the kitchen towel and wiped it up. Thinking about it she got some warm water on that same towel and cleaned herself before straightening her sleep shirt.

After that it was back to their studies.

Later on when dinner was concluded Ryan led her to the futon bed. He looked at her and caressed her face and then she doffed the sleep shirt, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. As she got onto the bed and lay on her back Ryan dropped his boxers.

Climbing onto the bed she welcomed him into her embrace and they started yet another night of natural sex, but more gentle than the night before.

It was just before the Fourth of July when Ryan was at work in Atlanta and his phone rang. Looking at the screen he saw it was Sindy. Swiping right he accepted the call.

"Hi, sweetheart!" he said.

"Hello, daddy!" replied a very happy Sindy.

By Baztrachian for Literotica

Lost At Christmas: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 02:28:22 +0000

Lost At Christmas: Part 2

A vulnerable confrontation with an old crush.

Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time.

Christmas

What had started out with the potential for so much disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes. After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told stories of the last few years.

I sat close to Sheri when I could, beside her at the dinner table, and next to her on the couch while we had our eggnog. I tried to engage her in some quiet conversation of our own, but the setting was all wrong for that, and I eventually abandoned those attempts. It was nice enough just to be near her.

Tommy's step-father Dave, insisted I call Santiago, even though I knew the price would be outrageous, and I did. I gave my family my Christmas wishes, and told them how much I missed them and was looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days. Everyone in the room took a minute to say hello and share season's greetings. I had to spend a few minutes trying to get my Mom to stop crying at the far end, before we finally were able to hang-up.

The small ones had to go to bed relatively early, and so we all got to open one gift the night before, as was their tradition. I gave Tommy his gift, and his mother opened the family gift and everyone acted pleased. In turn, they had bought me a present which I opened. It was two books for the trip, and they had a card for me. Inside was $50. I was completely in shock.

"Dear Steve,

Your short visit was a wonderful Christmas gift to us all. Thanks so much for choosing to spend this Christmas with us. Here's some mad money for the trip home. We all love you.

Dave, June, Robert, Sheri, John and Jean"

I was deeply touched by the gesture. I went over and gave Tommy's Mom a big hug, thanking her for the card and books. The kids jumped up with presents of their own, and I got two new drawings for my dorm room, as well as some mystery invention from John, which was supposed to be a spy tool to stop people from breaking into my room. I thanked them profusely, and they were put to bed shortly after.

Dave, Tommy and I discussed the logistics of my morning bus ride back to Charleston. It left at 7:30 am, but was only about 15 minutes away, so we figured on getting a 7:00am start. We relaxed around the fire, ruminating on the poor souls who had the job of driving that bus all day Christmas day.

There was a guitar in the corner, Greg's. I was surprised he hadn't taken it with him. I went over and grabbed it, and finding it miserably out of tune, I tuned it up.

"Play something Christmassy", Tommy's Mom asked, and so I played a couple of tunes. I'm a fair guitarist; I was studying guitar at the Eastman School of Music since it was convenient, and ROTC was picking up the tab, and had improved quite a bit from the days of our first band. I got rave reviews from my small audience, and took requests for a while, before we broke it up. The parents still had some work to do for the kids, and Tommy and I wanted to hit the hay early, in order to catch that 7:30 bus.

More hugs and kisses all around, with a firm handshake for Dave, and I retired to my room to finish my packing. I got ready for bed, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, laid out my clothes for the morning, and completed my packing. I had one last thing I wanted to do before hitting the sack, so I went back into the bathroom, and knocked on the opposite door into Sheri's room.

I heard a muffled "Come in" or something to that effect, and opened the door to find Sheri sitting up in bed, brushing her long blonde hair. She was dressed in a nearly see-through pale green nightie that took my breath away.

"Hi." I felt incredibly awkward, like I was 16 all over again.

She looked up at me, giving me a quizzically upraised eyebrow.

"I had a gift for you, but I felt kind of silly giving it to you out there. I hope you don't mind that I waited until now." I handed her a small leather pouch.

She took it, laying her brush to the side, and opened it, pulling out a small cross. She stretched out the cord, and looked at me in surprise.

"But this is your mountain cross! You always wear this!" She said, looking at me with a strange look I couldn't quite fathom.

The cross was one I had found mountain climbing several years earlier. I had been in a small accident. I'd fallen into a glacier fed stream on a mountain trip, while collecting firewood in a storm. I'd almost frozen before I'd made it back to the cabin. Literally. I thought I was going to die. I was staggering the last 20 feet to the building, in a daze, when a friend returning from the outhouse ran into me, and dragged me inside to warm up. The next morning I found a small ivory cross on a rotted leather lanyard at almost the very place I had climbed out of the stream, and I had worn it for years since then. Sheri knew the story. I had told her the whole thing one evening when I had been giving her driving lessons.

I don't know what had motivated me to give it to her, but I had had this urge, and I've always been a pretty impetuous person.

"I just want you to have it." I explained.

She patted the bed beside her for me to sit down then she handed me the cross to put around her neck and turned her back to me. I passed my hands over the head, letting the cross dangle in the valley between her breasts, and she reached back and pulled her hair up and out of the way, so I could latch the necklace on her.

When I was done she turned to me, and fingering the cross she thanked me.

"I got the strangest call today." She told me.

The Little Girl Scout Leader: Part 1

Cookies & sweet treats are given to a 'special man'.

Based on a post by MrJack, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time.

Stepping from the shower, on this blustery cold November Saturday morning; I caught a reflection of my masculine nude body in the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door. I'd always wished I was taller than my 5 foot 10 inches, but I had no other regrets about the muscular build of my toned 36-year-old body.

Unconsciously, my eyes lingered for a minute on the stiffened erection between my legs. It was another morning-wood day. The wind began howling in the past half hour, signaling a cold front. I thought the chilly house air would administer the ‘less fun’ therapy for my stiffy, but even after stoking the fireplace coals and throwing three fresh logs on the embers, didn’t fully shrink my swelling shaft. During my warm bath, my manhood had been swelling and getting harder.

Now, as a confirmed bachelor, I had no 'serious' lady in my life. I enjoyed playing-the-field too much to even dream of settling down. The only problem with living without a permanent lady in my life was the fact that I couldn't get a piece of pussy any time I wanted. And, at this moment, I needed a sweet wet vagina in which to dip my pulsating erection. Hell, I guess I was going to have to settle for beating my meat!

Before I had a chance to begin this self-relieving task, I heard the insistent ring of my front doorbell. Damnit, somebody was interrupting my plans for a little orgasmic release!

Aggravated, I threw a bath towel around my waist, tucked it in below my bellybutton, and headed for the front door. If whoever it was ringing the bell minded being met by a half-naked man; then tough-shit to them! They ought to have better manners than to disturb a man with a throbbing hard-on.

When I jerked open the door, I was met by a blustery blast of cold, late-fall wind. A whirlwind whisk of a figure, a young woman dressed in a Girl Scout Leader uniform, rushed inside and shut the door behind her. The shivering, coatless sprite took a few steps into the livingroom and held her hands out to the heat of my crackling fireplace.

"Oh Mr. Spencer, this fire feels so good," she said. "I didn't realize the weather would turn so cold so quickly. Why, it was actually 'warm' this morning!”

I had no words.

“ I'm Debbie Darling from down the street. I'm out taking orders for Girl Scout cookies.” She finally took note of my incredulity and then asked; “You know me, don't you, Sir?"

Before I could respond, the young lady added, "Scout Leaders don't usually go door-to-door selling cookies. That's for the Girl Scouts themselves to do. But, I'm helping my troop out because a virus hit the schools and several of them are sick with a cold. I was a scout myself for years, and now I've just become a volunteer leader for a Brownie troop. Our recruitment slogan for girls and leaders this fall is 'commit to a girl'. Sir, can you commit to our girls and their organization? Do you want to get any of my cookies?"

Commit to a girl? why I had no intention of doing any such thing! As for her cookies, goddamn my horny wicked soul to Hell, but my sex-stimulated mind took what the young woman said, and turned it into a 'dirty' thought. Yeah, some sweet, warm female 'cookies' would taste mighty good right now!

Before I answered, my eyes made a quick visual inspection of my unexpected visitor. An official uniform scarf with a membership pin adorned her slim neck. A navy blue skirt and blouse in the style of business attire graced her body and seemed to fit the lady like a 'too-tight' glove. It must have been a 'last-years' outfit because the young female form was outgrowing it now. Feminine shapes and bulges stretched the fabric in several strategic places. The lady was short, perhaps a whole foot shorter than me. Slim legs peeked out below a blue hem and ran down to knee socks and patent leather shoes. If I was a betting man, I'd bet she didn't weigh over 100 pounds, a good portion of which was in her ass and tits. Her brunette hair was a mop of curly locks, which were so short they barely even touched her shoulders.

With my stimulated erection straining my towel, I finally found my voice and answered, "Yes Debbie, I know you. I've seen you around the neighborhood. I think I've bought some cookies from you in the past years."

Standing there half-naked and horny as hell, mischievous thoughts entered my mind and I decided to tease the young seductress arousing me, "But, little lady I remember you as a childlike girl. Just when in the hell did your body start 'filling out' so much? What are you, about 15, 16 or so now?"

"No, I'm not 15 and I'm not 16!" the girl testily responded. Glancing at the watch on her tiny wrist, she continued, "I'm 18 and I've been 18 for two hours and five minutes! And, for your information Sir, I'm not a 'little girl'! I'm a freshman in college. As to your other question, it seems like my body just up and decided to 'pop out' all over the place this past year. I don't know why it took so effing long to do it. But Sir, I didn't come here to talk about me. I came to sell cookies. Do you want to place an order?"

My mind wandered away in an effort to digest her information. "18 for two hours and five minutes" is what she said. Why, she has reached the legal 'age of consent' for any kind of sexual shenanigans a man might wish to engage in with her! My pretty little sexy neighborhood cookie-seller would fit nicely into the hallowed category of 'barely legal', yet 'legal enough'!

Hell, I silently thought with my hard-on straining the bath towel around my waist. A lot of damn good this information would do me. Barely legal or not, that teenaged woman would have no interest or attraction for a man of my advanced age. I'd bet she had a teenage boyfriend. What was it the hippies use to say? Oh yeah, it was, "Never trust anyone over 30!"

Shaking my head in an effort to rid it of horny seduction thoughts, I answered the fascinating young lady, "Yes little Debbie, I'd like some cookies. Could I get about ten dollar’s worth? Girl, I'm horn, hungry as hell and I hate waiting for special treats. Would you have any cookies I could eat right now?"

"Oh yes, Sir," Debbie eagerly said. "I've got some sample boxes in my backpack. I can let you have ten dollar’s worth of chocolate mint cookies."

While the girl rummaged in her pack, I stepped back into the bathroom and picked up my wallet. I gave a quick thought to slipping on my pants, but immediately discarded it. I had plans for a masturbating party real soon; with thoughts of a sexy young Scout Leader occupying my mind.

Back in the living room, I noticed the boxes of cookies laid out on the coffee table. I dug a ten dollar bill from my wallet and handed it to the uniformed cookie salesgirl.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you about the tax," the girl apologetically said. "Growing up, my Scout Leaders told me to always remember the tax. It's sixty cents more. Is that okay?"

Smiling, I answered, "Sure little Debbie, that's fine. But, do you have change for a dollar bill. I don't have any coins in my wallet and I don't have any pockets in my towel."

"I've noticed that," the girl unintentionally blurted out. A crimson red blush immediately colored her fa

Being Prepared

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 21 Apr 2026 16:02:11 +0000

Girl Scouts Venture Into A Boy Scout Camp.

Based on a post by Dimension Of Desire. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time.

It was Summer in the early 70’s, and I was away at Boy Scout camp. I was still a virgin. The camp was large and sprawling, located deep in a remote forest. Aside from the main camp building that stood adjacent to a large lake, there were individual campsites for each troop. The camp was so large that it required a fair hike to get to the next troop’s campsite.

My own troop was camped high on a ridge in the forest. Roughly a dozen boy scouts with raging hormones shared six over-sized tents, two campers per tent, with each tent mounted on a large wooden platform. Nights were spent talking about girls of course, which only stoked those raging hormones. The talk was explicit, as long as our scout leader, who was camped slightly downhill from us, wasn’t within earshot.

Two weeks of camp in the remote forest passed painfully slow. I was quite tall and lean, not as athletic as my counterparts, and took a bit more ribbing and abuse than average from my peers. We were among the more senior scouts. It was the summer between high school and my first year of college. I had just turned eighteen and was looking forward to autumn when I could enter the next phase of scouting, which was called Explorers. I loved scouting, but the thought of becoming an Explorer was intriguing, more so because Explorers were co-ed.

The ribbing got so bad one day that I went for a hike alone in the forest. I came upon an unoccupied campsite with a large platform tent that had a steel cot with a thick, clean mattress. Over the next several days I made it my own secret getaway. It was a comfortable escape where I could enjoy solo time with a few books that I had brought with me. I was a bit of a bookworm back then.

Back at camp we sat around the fire after returning from lunch at the mess hall. The mess hall was on the second floor of the main camp building which overlooked the massive lake below. The Director gave announcements and recognized several schouts who complete merit badges and a bunch of us who d successfully earned our mile swim badges.

We sang the scout motto song as we cleared our tables and departed.

Be be be prepared,

The motto of the Boy Scouts.

Be be be prepared,

The motto of the scouts!

Prepared! Prepared!

The motto of the boy scouts.

Prepared! Prepared!

The motto of the scouts. Hey!

After an uneventful lunch we headed back to our campsite which required a two mile hike. There wasn’t much to do that afternoon. The lakefront had been shut down to prepare for a camp-wide water competition the next day.

Time passed slowly. Back at our campsite we noticed another troop hiking through the other side of the ravine at a distance, but didn’t take much notice. It was probably just another group of campers passing through for their backpacking or Orienteering merit badges.

But then I noticed that something was different about the hikers; they weren’t boys!

I snatched a pair of binoculars from my tent. Sure enough, they weren’t boys, they were Senior Girl Scouts. My heart raced, and I felt something automatically stirring down below. I could hardly get the words out of my mouth to my comrades; “gurr; ga ga, girls!”

In an instant there were twelve horny boys hanging precipitously over a long rock ledge, each with binoculars, spying about a dozen or so very cute girls hiking down slope from us. Their trajectory led right towards our scout leader’s tent. From a distance, the girls looked pretty, about the same age range as ourselves, guided by a pretty blonde Girl Scout leader that appeared to be in her mid- to late 20’s.

To describe the boys as being excited would be an understatement. Their eyes were glued to their binoculars. One boy even set up a telescope on a tripod to get a better view. He positioned himself in a prone position, and looked like a machine gunner preparing to fire. I am sure he wanted to fire his live bullets up inside their fertile bellies.

Of course the discussion quickly turned to sex. Most of the boys were focused on the hot blonde Girl Scout leader who wore rather tiny, tight green shorts. Her white short-sleeve blouse was tied under her large tits, exposing her incredibly narrow, bare waist. Every one of boys had some sort of comment, each expressing essentially the same thing; they all wanted to fuck her. I could see one boy stroking himself in his sweatpants, and trying to hide it. He never did live that one down. Suffice to say, every one of us had a massive hard-on.

What seemed to be a typical hot, boring, mid-summer afternoon isolated deep in the remote forest had suddenly become every teenage boy’s fantasy come to life. We had a perfect view of some of the cutest girls we had ever seen. We were all high on the thought of what each one of us imagined we’d like to do with them. Our primitive male instincts naturally kicked into high gear.

We scurried back to our tents as soon as we noticed our scout leader heading for our campsite. We did a good job not being caught spying. He called to wake us from our supposed siesta, and sat us around the camp fire. He explained that a troop of Girl Scouts were hiking through the area en route to the far side of the lake where other Girl Scout troops were holding their summer camp several miles to the East. Aware that we were a cauldron of hormones ready to erupt, he issued strict orders to keep our distance from the girls. He had arranged to put the troop of girls up for the night at an adjacent campsite about a quarter mile from ours. Anyone caught anywhere close to the girls camp site would result in immediate termination of their summer stay.

As if that was going to work; ha! He left us and returned to his own camp site. The troop of girls had disappeared by then, but about an hour later one of the boys noticed the Girl Scout leader returning, alone, to our scout leader’s campsite. The two of them sat side-by-side on a large log and talked. We were beyond earshot to hear anything except the rustling of the leaves around us. Of course we all high-fived each other about our scout leader, who was single and in his late twenties. A good-looking stud in his own right, he was studying to become a minister. We just couldn’t see him as one, and don’t think he became one after that event.

The pair disappeared into his tent. We were beyond giddy imagining what they might be doing with each other, but quickly realized that it was the perfect opportunity to go find the girl’s camp. We knew that it wouldn’t take long for the news of the girl’s presence to spread like wildfire throughout the rest of the camp, after which the area would become strictly off-limits, and guarded like Fort Knox. We had to act fast.

We made our way through the backwoods and quickly found the girl’s camp. We made sure to wear backpacks to make it look like we just happened to come upon their camp while hiking. It worked. When we emerged from the trail, there, in the isolated camp site, stood twelve of the prettiest girls, all dressed in their regulation Girl Scout uniforms, and us boys wearing our regulation Boy Scout uniforms. I don’t think you could find a single girl or boy at that moment that was disappointed. At first the girls looked slightly alarmed, but after they huddled for a few moments their frowns quickly turned to big smiles. The girls then scurried to offer us a place to rest and pampered us with snacks, drinks, and lots of attention. I even charted our compass settings and paces, under the guise of preparing for a test.

We mentioned that when we left our campsite, their Girl Scout leared was still in our scoutmaster s tent, with just him. Eyebrows raised and girls chuckled.

It was the only time in my young existence that I can recall a place where a group of teen boys and girls were practically drowning in a sea or raging hormones. It was difficult to conceal the large bulges in our Boy Scout trousers. We wore the classic tan Boy Scout pants and tan short-sleeve shirts, complete with badge-laden sashes, canvas belts, neckerchiefs and clasps. Be Prepared was our motto, but we were certainly not prepared for this! That garb was only worn at official ceremonies, but we were too stupid to know the girls figured we were just trying to impress them. They played along.

After a bit of banter, the boys and girls naturally split up into pairs or foursomes, having conversations with each other. Flirting was on display, but nothing else happened at first. Everyone was on the lookout for the scout leaders; thank goodness for walkie-talkies.

One Girl Scout in particular sparked my interest. To me she was a little goddess. I was tall, approaching six feet, and she was a petite little thing, standing all of five feet tall, if that. I felt my heart drop into the pit my gut when our eyes met. She appeared to be about my age with big green eyes and silky straight auburn hair with long, straight bangs.

All of the girls were Senior Girl scouts. Senior Girl Scouts were more mature Girl Scouts that wore dark green skirts with the Girl Scout emblem prominently displayed on the left waistband of their skirt. They all wore tight white button-down short-sleeve shirts with the green Girl Scout clover embroidered on the shirt pocket, very sexy. Some of the girls were more developed than others, but the one that caught my eye was clearly well endowed.

I knew our time was short. After some initial talk and innocent flirting, it was clear that the two of us had made an instant and powerful connection. Our hearts raced, practically beating right through our uniforms. My cock was rock hard and throbbing. I practically came when she leaned into me and placed her hand high on my upper thigh only an inch or so from my crotch. She uttered something about primitive camping in the wild. That’s exactly what I was thinking; wild!

We were fortunate to enjoy almost two full hours with the girls. Some of the boys began making out with the girls in their tents. Mine leaned in for a kiss; I was more than happy to oblige. As her lips made contact with mine I discovered heaven on earth. Her lips were soft and thick; utter perfection as mine melted into hers. Her name was Rebecca. She asked me to call her Becky.

The fun didn’t last long enough. We were alerted that the scout leaders had emerged from their little nookie nest. That was our cue to make a quick exit and evacuate before the enemy returned. As we concluded yet another long, slow kiss I peered into the deep pools of Becky’s bright green eyes and informed her, regretfully, that we had to part. We were resigned to the notion that this would be the first and last time we’d ever see each other, but as I prepared to bid her farewell, I took both of her hands in mine and told her about my secret enclave. I explained where it was in the unlikely event that she could break free later that evening.

Behind a large tent I gave Becky a final farewell kiss, told her that she was the most beautiful and amazing girl I had ever met, and then bolted in an effort to catch up with the other boys. We escaped just moments before the Girl Scout leader returned.

Back at our camp we gathered around the fire once more; boys feeling they had become men in just a short time. The boisterous talk was instantly curtailed when our scout leader approached, clueless about our afternoon shenanigans. We kept our secret well, and ribbed him about his extended visit with the hot-looking Girl Scout leader. One boy that acted as our lookout said that the Girl Scout leader appeared quite disheveled when she emerged from his tent, and he had been tucking his shirt and zipping up his pants. He insisted that they had only talked and discussed scout leader things, but we had fun insinuating more, after which he abruptly shut down our conversation and barked orders to prepare for the long hike to the mess hall for dinner. The mess hall was in the main building where roughly a thousand boys converged for meals twice daily.

I suggested a friendly game of capture the flag between the two troops. But our scoutmaster strictly forbid any contact with the girls.

We arrived at the mess hall. Scouts were required to show-up in full dress uniform, well pressed, and well groomed. When we entered the soaring mess hall with its massive wooden beams, there was a rather unusual hush. There, not far from our assigned table, sat the group of Girl Scouts. Hundreds of young guys and a handful of pretty gals, all dressed in their official Girl Scout uniforms. You could hear a pin drop. One of the boys sitting an adjacent table leaned over to me and muttered something crass about what he’d like to do to a few of them. I just smiled in response before returning to my meal, trying conceal occasional attempts to catch a glimpse of Becky.

I was quick to arrange a swap of KP duty. That s kitchen patrol. We volunteer one person from each table, to help clean up and scrub the dishes.

Looking toward the girl scout table, our eyes met and the two of us fell into a trance. I could visibly see the want in Becky’s eyes, and a bit of sadness in her pouty lips. The sound of utensils clanging on dishes and discussions receded into the distance, becoming only a faint echo in my head. Only a few feet separated me from my entire world; though it might as well have been half a world away. There was nothing I could do to get any closer. My mind began to wander.

I thought, if only I could muster enough courage to make some sort of grand gesture. I imagined myself pushing away from the table, walking straight over to Becky, lifting her high into my arms, and kissing her while the entire legion of boys erupted in cheers. Then again, I knew I’d more likely end-up unconscious and horizontal on a stretcher if I did, or worse.

Whack! A slap from one of my buddies snapped me back to reality from my zombie state.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, for which I had no ready response. As Becky’s face came back into focus I could see her laughing. I blushed with embarrassment.

I went back to the counter for a refill of my drink. That s when Becky decided she too, needed more fluids. As I stood at the dispenser, she silently stood next to me. I mumbled just loud enough; Volunteer for KP duty.

Dinner ended and I sadly found out the girls were honored guests, not required to serve KP. Oh well, it was a long shot. But the camp cook gave the girls a guided tour of the lodge, so I did get to wink at her twice, while washing down the tables and sweeping the floor.

I made my way back to camp. When dusk began to fall I exited the rear of my tent with my day pack; and slipped undetected into the thick forest. The scout with whom I bunked had gone to the infirmary after becoming ill from dinner. That allowed me to escape unnoticed. I made it to my private enclave just as dusk settled in.

Night was falling and I soon realized that I was going to remain there, alone. I began to pack up my things to return to my troop’s campsite. Just as I emerged from the tent, there stood Becky, like an angel from heaven wearing a smile larger than the full moon that softly lit the landscape around us. Becky approached me, slowly, held out her hands, and grasped both of mine.

“I couldn’t bear to leave here tomorrow without seeing you again.” she said in a soft and sincere voice.

There we stood, our hands clasped, and our eyes fixated upon each other. She was the ultimate image of sexy standing there in front of me. She wore the classic green socks embroidered with the Girl Scout emblem on each side, along with bright yellow flash garters that held them up. Her black patent Mary Janes were so shiny they reflected a little bit of her white panties from beneath her green Girl Scout skirt, which was now much shorter than I had recalled earlier that day.

Becky looked up at me with those big green eyes which were slightly covered by her long silky straight bangs. Around her neck she wore a Girl Scout locket. I could partially see down her blouse and caught a brief glimpse of her cleavage.

There we stood, silent. We didn’t want to move, we just stared at each other and drank each other in. The look in her eyes was dreamy. That a girl could gaze upon me with such adoration was mind-blowing. I was falling in love for the first time in my young life.

I had packed my tent lantern, but a fire within me was far hotter than any fire I could ever make with conventional wood. I took her hand in mine and gently led her into my tent. The tent was roomy and cozy. I had made it quite homey with a sleeping bag, blankets, and two pillows on the sturdy cot. We sat side-by-side, both feeling a little awkward, not knowing where to start or what to do next.

I slipped my hand into hers, lifted my other hand, placed it gently on her cheek, and then brushed back her soft hair while bringing my lips close to hers, but not yet touching. My hand slipped down to her neck. Only our hot steamy breath separated our parted lips by mere millimeters. She closed her eyes; there wasn’t anything either of us ever wanted more than to feel each other’s lips touch at that moment.

And they did. Our hearts connected as our lips met. We felt one with each other. Our sweet soft kisses said everything that needed to be said. Our kisses became deeper, longer, and more passionate as our tongues gently entangled. We never wanted this evening to end.

She slowly raised her hands up to each side my face, paused, and made me look directly into her eyes. Now face-to-face, she pulled back slightly.

“I want you!” she asserted with absolute certainty.

Becky stood up, her tight young body only inches in front of me. I remained seated. She backed away slightly, still grasping both of my hands. There she stood, the cutest, sexiest young lady that was beyond any divine creature I could ever conjure up in my dreams.

I couldn’t believe that this incredible sexy girl was standing there, right in front of me. Her cute round face, small slightly upturned nose, flawless complexion, and perfect body glowed in the moonlight. Her perky round tits protruded through her tight-fitting white blouse, partially obscured by the long green Girl Scout sash laden with merit badges that stretched from the top of her shoulder on one side, down to her opposite hip. She also wore the classic green Girl Scout necktie. Becky teasingly pointed to a patch on my own uniform that read “Be Prepared” and asked me if I was. Completely entranced and under her spell, I nodded to affirm.

She began to dance in slow motion, teasing me with her tight curvy body, first moving in closer, then further away, almost like a seasoned stripper but remaining fully clothed. She leaned one shoulder into me. On the crest of her shoulder attached to her white blouse was a patch that read Girl Scouts U.S.A. I thought to myself, thank God for Girl Scouts!

“Do you like Girl Scouts?” She quizzed in a teasing and seductive tone.

“I, I love one Girl Scout, I mean, I love this Girl Scout.” quickly correcting myself.

“Right answer!” Becky shot back, moving in closer and sporting a broad smile.

Truth be told, I always had it in for girls in uniform, especially girl scouts. I had attended private scho

Beauty And Her Beast: Part 2.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 20 Apr 2026 16:03:06 +0000

The beast is more than she knew.

Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Once back inside, he removed the cloak and laid her on his bed. She sighed in her sleep, and the creases in her forehead disappeared. He ran a warm cloth over her cheeks, washing the dirt away. And then he turned to her foot.

A dark bruise circled her swollen ankle. He carefully ran his hand over her leg and foot, not feeling any broken bones. Certain it was only a bad sprain, he cleaned and wrapped her ankle loosely, and then propped it up on a pillow to reduce the swelling.

Before he pulled a blanket over her, he gazed down at her sleeping form. Her lips parted as she breathed evenly once again, her head tilted to the side, exposing the delicate lines of her neck. His eyes traveled downward, following the curves of her torso as the nightdress clung to her, and rested on the dark patch visible through the material at the apex of her legs.

His loins burned with fire, and he hardened immediately. Then he threw the blanket over her and forced himself to turn away. He turned the chair to face the fire, and he eased himself down into it, brooding over the day’s events.

How could he have thought she’d run away? Did he not trust her? She had proven herself to him time and again. But he had jumped to conclusions. He’d almost lost her due to his stupid fears.

He made a swift decision: the dogs would be destroyed in the morning. He’d do it right now, but he couldn’t bear to leave her side. What if she needed him while he was gone? But they had to go. They’d already caused at least one death. They were a weapon, triggered by his temper.

He dozed off eventually, but he woke throughout the night to check on her, adjusting her ankle, watching the swelling, making sure she appeared comfortable. And each time he forced himself to return to the chair when he wanted to sit and watch her sleep.

A dull throbbing in her ankle woke Kristiana. She opened her eyes to see Prince Dalemond wrapping a cool white cloth around her entire foot. He placed her foot on a pile of pillows and reached for the blanket. When he turned back toward her, he started.

“You’re awake!”

“I am.” She stared up at him. At his five o'clock shadow; at his messy mane of hair; at his wrinkled shirt, open at the neck; at the thick muscles in his arms where the sleeves had been rolled up. She swallowed and tried to sit up, propping her elbows behind her.

His eyes dropped down to her breasts.

She realized they were jutting out in this position and lay back down. But her nipples tightened, painfully. It had been almost a year. How much longer could she go on denying her attraction to him? He obviously felt some himself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be looking at her all the time.

“It is late. I did not mean to disturb you.” His fingers grazed over her ankle. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” She licked her dry lips, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead, she watched his hand on her foot. The heat of his skin was evident against hers even through the bandage.

“I’m sorry I overreacted earlier.”

She flinched, her eyes leaping up to his. “I, I had only gone for an evening stroll. I did not disobey you. I never have. I never will.”

“I’m sorry about the dogs. They won’t bother you again.”

“Thank you.” It was hard to swallow. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Was it her imagination, or was he stroking her ankle? She didn’t dare tear her eyes from his; it was a nice feeling. And she didn’t want him to stop. She settled back into the pillow and tried to keep her breathing steady when his hand crept up to caress her shin.

“Did; did you have a good trip?”

He nodded, tilting his head to the side. His chocolate-brown eyes watched her. Watched when her lips parted as his hand moved behind her knee. Watched when she gasped as he slid his fingers up and down her calf. Watched when she moaned as he pushed the hem of her nightdress up her leg.

“I didn’t mean to be so late. Things took longer than expected.”

It was her turn to nod, and she licked her lips again when he massaged the top of her thigh. Then her breath hitched when his fingers brushed her inner thigh.

“Do you want me to stop, Kristiana?” His voice was a low whisper.

She shook her head, unsure of what she was feeling. She’d never been with a man before. It was exciting and scary at the same time. He seemed to know what he was doing. She told herself to relax; and for once be glad he was in control.

His hand stilled, feeling the tension in her muscles beneath the silkiness of her skin. Prince Dalemond had never seen such a timid woman before. Her soft gasp when he’d first touched her made his chest tighten with anticipation. He was sure this was a new experience for her. He intended to make it memorable.

He told himself to go slow. He knew this evening had been frightening for her. He wanted to ease her fears. Regain her trust. Nothing more.

He’d bedded many women before, but the inexperienced were the most interesting. He enjoyed their expressions, their sounds at the new sensations he brought alive in their bodies. And once they’d become accustomed to his ways, they were eager to please him again and again.

She would be no different. He was a man with needs; she was a beautiful woman. They would both benefit. When he’d tired of her, he would decide what to do at that time.

Until then;

Kristiana gasped again, and his eyes jumped up to her face. Her gaze was focused on where his thick fingers stroked the inside of her thigh. When he inched them upward, her eyes closed, and then she licked her bottom lip.

His breath caught at her reaction. The thin material of her skirt collected at his wrist as he drew closer to the source of heat he could feel against the back of his hand. And then his fingers grazed the bed of curls.

She let out a whimper. When he gently pressed his free hand to her other thigh, her legs parted.

“Do you want me to stop, now?”

For the briefest moment, she said nothing.

He prayed she would not resist him. He would not try again with her if she did.

There were always the day-trips to find a willing partner, like the one today, and others he’d taken without her knowledge, returning before she’d realized him gone. He would just rather use the opportunity under his own roof. That’s why he’d formulated the plan on his return today; aghast with himself for not thinking of it sooner. He could have her whenever he pleased without worry that she would go to the arms of another man.

His anger had been renewed, though, when he’d returned to find her missing from the castle, the gates still securely locked. He had not thought it possible for her to escape over the wall, but she was a clever woman. He had underestimated her. And that only deepened his frustration.

“No.” Her eventual response was the strangest sound, as if she was forcing herself to say it. But he gave it no heed. It was the answer he desired.

His index finger swept up through her curls. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth when he felt the gathered slickness beyond. She moaned and her hips moved slightly against his hand. He flicked the tip of his finger at her hidden bud, and she cried out, her eyes flying open to stare at the ceiling.

“What a delightful sound from such a beauty as you.”

He flicked again, receiving the same reaction. He stroked further down into the heat and more wetness. She was as needy of this as he was. The thin fabric of his trousers strained against his own arousal, and he groaned.

Several minutes passed as he slowly stroked one and then two fingers through her swollen lips. Her eyes had closed again, fluttering open whenever he moved against her bud. When he felt he’d teased her enough, he gently inserted his finger into the source of her womanhood.

Kristiana gripped the sheets beneath her. Her whimpering grew louder as he stroked in and out of the tight opening. And then her hips lifted off the bed with a gentle shudder.

Dalemond chuckled. He pressed his left hand against her right thigh, holding her down, and then inserted another finger. That earned him a strangled gasp and another arch of her hips, pushing his digits deeper. When he stroked faster, occasionally rubbing his thumb against her bud, the slickness grew thicker, producing a heady scent that he relished.

He kept his eyes on her face, but he couldn’t help noticing how her ragged breathing made her now swollen tits press against the fabric barely encasing them. He moved his left hand up and caressed one mound through her nightdress, mesmerized by the fullness of it and how it felt to finally touch her there after all these months of admiring her from a distance.

She moaned, rolling to press into his hand. His fingers continued a steady rhythm below. Above, he sought out and stroked her nipple, which hardened instantly. She felt so good, his hands aching from squeezing and flexing around and within her most intimate parts.

He was considering what her breast would feel like, taste like, without the barrier currently hiding it when her muscles tightened around the fingers of his right hand. Her breathing became shallower, and her moans turned into unintelligible mumbling.

His focus returned to what he was doing between her legs as he silently urged her on, the pain of his own restraint maddening. But he forgot about himself when she screamed his name, her back lifting off the bed completely. His fingers continued to stroke within as she climaxed, only ceasing when she relaxed again, shuddering.

“Shush; shush;” He eased his hand away, pulling the skirt down again.

She moaned, pressing her cheek into his touch when he caressed her there.

They were both silent except for her small whimpers as aftershocks rolled through her body. He couldn’t stop watching her, her cheeks flush, her chest moving in time with the slow tempo of her breathing now.

When he realized she’d fallen asleep, he covered her with the heavy quilt, blew out the candlelight, and settled into the chair by the fire for the rest of the night.

Confined and impaired.
Kristiana opened her eyes and blinked. Sunlight poured in the window; on the wrong side of the room. She sat up with a start, wincing at the dull ache in her left ankle. As she glanced around, noting the expensive tapestries, the oversized ornate furniture, she realized she must be in Prince Dalemond’s chambers. But why was she in his bed?

Her cheeks burned as she remembered. And the more she thought of last night, the hotter she felt in other places. Had she really let him touch her like that?

“Good, you’re awake.”

She screamed and clutched a hand to her throat.

“My apologies, my lady. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Prince Dalemond stepped toward her from where he stood in the doorway. She automatically pulled the quilt up, covering her bosom. When his eyes darted down and lingered, her nipples hardened and she wondered what he was thinking. The memory of his hand on her breast made her moan softly.

One of his eyebrows shot up, but he only said, “I came to see if you were hungry.”

She nodded and tried to swallow.

“I should check your ankle.” And then he proceeded to pull the quilt back, exposing her bare legs where the skirt of her nightdress had ridden up during her sleep. He glanced there briefly but moved on down to remove the cloth bandage he’d applied in the middle of the night.

She worried her lower lip while he gently prodded, his hand cool against her heated skin.

“The swelling has gone down, but I think you should stay off it today.”

“If you insist, Your Highness.”

He seemed to bristle at her formal tone, but he said nothing more. He dipped the cloth in the water basin, wrung it out, and returned to the bed to apply it to her foot. When he was finished, he covered her legs again and stood. “I will bring you your breakfast shortly.”

She shivered as he left, her heart racing. How did he affect her so with just the simplest of touches?

He returned carrying a tray laden with breads, fruits, juice, and three books. She raised her gaze from the latter to his eyes, and he simply said, “To keep you occupied.”

He helped her sit up, propping pillows around her and under her injured foot, and then he proceeded to sit on the bed facing her. As he picked up a cluster of grapes and plucked one, placing it in his mouth, she realized he intended to eat with her.

It did not bother her, it was his house, his bed. However, each time his fingers picked something from the tray or raised the food in his mouth, she thought of what they had done to her last night. Part of her wanted to ask him why he had done it. But she was too embarrassed.

Best to pretend it had never happened.

When the tray contained only crumbs and rinds of fruit, he placed the books on the bedside table and removed the tray from her lap. “I have matters to attend to, but I will return to check on you.” And then he excused himself and closed the door on his way out.

Kristiana stared at the decorative brass bars crossing the heavy wooden door. Who was this man? He seemed to change from night to day, mean and beastly one moment, kind and generous the next. Her head hurt after a while, tired of trying to understand him. She turned to pick up the top book, and soon lost herself in the story.

Prince Dalemond brought Kristiana a tray for the noon meal, sharing it with her again. He left her reading a book, but she was sleeping when he looked in on her later. At dinnertime, he roused her for the meal, helping her to the chair by the fire before they dined together.

Once they were finished, he made her comfortable in bed again before checking her ankle. Satisfied that a day of rest had begun healing it, he rewrapped it.

Her gasp of surprise pleased him when he began to repeat the rendezvous from last night. He did not ask permission this time, her moans and writhing body under his ministrations confirming her consent in his mind. He left her satisfied and drowsy, choosing the chair by the fire again for his bed.

In the morning, her ankle still seemed too tender to apply weight to it. And so, he ordered another day of rest; and another night of pleasuring her followed.

On the third day, she insisted on getting out of bed. When she asked to take a bath, he prepared it for her in her chamber; and he remained outside her closed door. He told himself he was only being cautious, in case she needed anything. But deep down, he wished he were in there, assisting her.

Both thoughts bothered him. Surely he wasn’t having feelings for this woman; this guest; this prisoner in his home? Once, he had considered letting her leave, to go home to her father. But now; now that she seemed to desire him, and he wouldn’t need to travel to find relief for his sexual tensions, he didn’t want to let her go.

A Literary escape from confinement.
Kristiana had convinced him to let her spend the day in the library. Even though her ankle felt better now, he’d brought the noon meal to her and shared it with her.

It felt good to have washed and dressed properly for once, a simple red gown with an empire waist today, but she half wished she were still in her nightdress; still in his bed.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth when she thought of how his eyes would wander down to her breasts while they ate, as if he were hungry for more than just food. At night, after tending to her injury, the nightdress made it easy for him to seduce her.

Suddenly, she felt constrained in her gown and undergarments. Her breath caught, remembering how he had not asked for her consent the last two nights. How that aroused her even more than spending the day wondering if he would return and do it again after the evening meal.

“You have not turned a page in quite some time, my lady. What thoughts occupy your mind?”

She cried out, and heat rushed to her cheeks, as if he had been reading her thoughts. Part of her wanted him to. Wanted him to know she craved for him to do more than just pleasure her with his fingers;

Adorned.
Prince Dalemond felt his heart beat increase when her cheeks colored, almost matching the shade of her dress. And it was a lovely dress, despite its simplicity, especially on her petite frame. He couldn’t resist smiling, knowing he had been correct to presume she had not been reading for the past several minutes.

“You seem to enjoy startling me.” Kristiana closed her book and set it aside.

“Do not blame me for your ignorance of my presence.” If possible, her cheeks darkened even more. It occurred to him he might have insulted her.

“Maybe your presence does not garner such notice as you presume.”

He smirked at her bravado. Maybe he would keep her around for enlightening conversations such as this long after she ceased to please him in bed.

“Your Highness thinks very mightily of himself.”

He meant to snap at her retort this time, but she had stood and began to approach him when she stumbled. Instinctively, he rushed her side, catching her before she hit the floor. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and winced as he helped her regain her balance. “Too much resting, I think. My ankle is not used to serving its purpose; keeping me upright.”

For a moment, they stood silently. Then she must have realized his arms were still around her, supporting her, because her eyes shot up to meet his, and she gasped softly.

He bit back a groan, enthralled with the feeling of her in his embrace, as loose as it was. His arms tightened around her, drawing her closer, and her eyes widened. She had to tilt her head back now to see his face. Without thinking, he lowered his mouth.

She struggled at first, but as his lips moved against hers, her small hands gripped his arms. Soft mewling sounds escaped with her breathing. Her lips parted when his tongue glided over them.

He tasted the sweet berries from their recent meal when he swept into her mouth. Her inexperience showed as she tried to copy him, their tongues battling awkwardly. He moved to cup her cheeks in his large palms, holding her still while he deepened the kiss, slowly instructing her what to do. It took several attempts, but she seemed to finally catch on. When she subtly rubbed her tits against him, he growled and nipped at her lower lip, drawing a startled moan from her.

The softness of her body pressing against his hard chest. The taste and smell of her. Her petulant attitude, even. It all made him weak in the knees. This was not how it was supposed to be. She was just another woman. He was supposed to seduce her. And yet, he felt that his plan was backfiring on him.

She must have shifted her balance to her injured foot because she suddenly cried out, her grip on his arm tightening as her legs gave out.

He realized he wasn’t thinking rationally when he picked her up, one arm under her legs, and resumed kissing her, muffling her startled cry. And then he was crossing the room,

Beauty And Her Beast: Part 1.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 19 Apr 2026 16:01:59 +0000

What really happened in the castle.

Based on a post by secret sexy writer. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Once upon a time;

A merchant lived in a forest. His only daughter, Kristiana, had been a nursemaid to a wealthy family until the children became of age and the family no longer needed her services. Deciding to take some time for herself, she returned to live with her father.

One morning, before he left for the market, he said to her, “Kristiana, if you could have one thing that would make you happy, what would it be?”

“Finally being here with you makes me happy. I need nothing more.” Kristiana hugged her father and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then she waved as he mounted his horse and headed off toward town.

His mind still troubled him on his journey. He wanted to get something special for his daughter, but he no longer knew what she liked. And she hadn’t been much help with answers herself.

She’d grown into such a beautiful woman while she’d been away. She was at least five-foot-five now, her brunette hair cascading down her back in soft waves. He remembered her mother pulling it back into pigtails not too long ago. And then Kristiana had hid it all twisted up on her head under a cap when she’d left to work for that family.

That was all before his lovely wife had passed away after the terrible accident. No one had known where the beastly dogs had come from. Mariel had been tending the garden out back when they’d run out of the woods and attacked her in broad daylight.

If only he’d been home at the time;

He sniffed and urged his horse on. Throughout the morning as he gathered the items on his list, he focused on Kristiana. On the present. And he kept an eye out for her gift, but nothing seemed right.

When he had finished his business, the merchant set off for home. The day had grown long, and the sun was already setting behind the trees of the woods. The wind grew colder, whipping his jacket about. With one hand, he struggled to hold onto the reins of the horse, his other hand clutching the satchel of merchandise tightly against his body.

The sky darkened, and soon rain pelted down, soaking through his clothes. A streak of lightning spooked the horse, and then they were racing through the trees, wispy branches stinging his cheeks. Once the horse had calmed down, the merchant paused and glanced around. But under the thick cover of leaves over him, he couldn’t see the moon or tell which way to go. His only hope was that they could find some shelter and wait out the storm. His hope dwindled, though, as he led the horse among the maze of trees. He was completely lost, even in the woods he’d known most of his life.

Dalemond’s Castle.

Just when he was ready to give up, he noticed a dull light shining off to his right, and steered the horse toward it. As he drew near, he saw that the light belonged to a building. An inn!

Lightning lit up the sky, and the merchant gasped, tightening his grip on the reins as the horse reared up. The inn was actually a massive castle!

Stone walls stretched out in either direction beyond a looming gate, and towers disappeared into the night sky above him. No lights were burning in any of the windows, but a lantern swung on a post over the front door.

Sliding down from his horse, the merchant pushed open the gate and entered the courtyard. The horse whinnied at another crack of lightning, but it followed behind, pawing at the ground when he tied off the reins on a metal loop in the castle wall.

When he reached the door, he saw that it was open. Though he shouted, no one came to greet him. Gathering his courage, he went inside, still calling out to attract attention. On a table in the front hall, a splendid dinner lay already served. He lingered, still shouting for the owner of the castle. But no one came, and so after eyeing the food and listening to his growling stomach, the starving merchant sat down to a hearty meal.

His hunger satisfied, curiosity now plagued him. Why had no one met him at the door? Who had lit the lantern? Who had prepared the meal? He called again for any acknowledgement of his arrival. Upon receiving none, he ventured through the main room. At the far end was a grand staircase. He ascended, in awe of the paintings in elaborate gold frames adorning the walls.

From the landing, a corridor led off in either direction with several closed doors on each side. However, the first door on his left was open. A fire crackled in a massive stone fireplace that was taller than he was. Directly across from it sat a four-poster bed piled high with blankets and pillows.

It was now late, and he could not resist the invitation before him once again. He lay down on the bed and fell fast asleep. When he woke next morning, someone had placed a mug of steaming coffee and some fruit by his bedside.

The merchant had breakfast and after tidying himself up, went downstairs to thank his generous host. But, as on the evening before, there was no one in sight. Shaking his head in wonder at the strangeness of it all, he went towards the courtyard where he had left his horse. To his continual surprise, his horse was no longer tethered to the castle wall but grazing beneath a tree in the sunshine.

Next to the tree were several rose bushes. Dotting the green leaves, glistening with the remnants of last night’s rain, were the largest red flowers he’d ever seen in full bloom.

Thinking of his parting question to his daughter, he whispered, “It’s perfect!” And then he carefully plucked a dewy rose from its bed.

No sooner had he reached for the horse’s reins than a man sprang up from behind the rose garden. He wore a dark jacket over his tunic and pants that all looked of the finest material. His thick mane of hair was mostly gray with subtle streaks of blond, and it flowed down to his shoulders. But his brown eyes were bloodshot and gleamed with fire; his mouth was curled into a snarl. His wide shoulders towered over the merchant, and his large hands reached out to him.

“Ungrateful man! I gave you shelter, fed you from my table, and gave you a bed to sleep in! But now all the thanks I get is the theft of my favorite flowers!”

“Forgive me! Please, do not kill me! I’ll do anything you say! The rose wasn’t for me but for my daughter, Kristiana. I wanted to bring her a special present from my journey.”

“I care not why you stole from me.” The man whistled, and two large dogs, drooling and growling, appeared from around the side of the castle. “I shall put you to death for this slight!”

Trembling with fear, the merchant fell on his knees before the beast of a man. “Those dogs! They were your dogs?”

“What nonsense do you speak, thief?”

“Your dogs killed my wife!” The merchant wanted to scream in anger, but his voice barely came out as a raspy whisper. “They attacked her in our garden. Thankfully, our only child was gone and did not witness it. I returned too late to save my wife, but I saw the dogs before they disappeared into the woods again. All these years;”

The man dropped the paw of a hand he had clamped on the distraught merchant, but his voice remained a deep growl. “I shall spare your life, but on one condition. Bring me your daughter! I will not harm her, but she will remain a servant in my castle.”

The merchant’s heart leapt with joy at his own fortune. But then he felt his stomach twist with terror. He’d have to trade his life for his daughter’s! They would both still be alive, but; No, she would never forgive him for leaving her alone in the world if he did not obey.

With his head hung low, the merchant nodded. “So be it. I will send my daughter to you.”

“Take the rose. Have her bring it back so that I know it is her. Follow the path south until you get to a clearing, and then head west. This will lead you home.” And then the beast of a man disappeared around the side of the castle with the dogs.

The journey home seemed shorter than he’d expected. After settling the horse in the barn, he trudged up to the house, his shoulders heavy.

Kristiana rushed out to meet him. “Father! Where have you been? I’ve been so worried!”

He fell into his daughter’s arms, holding her to him, trying to remember how his grown little girl felt one last time. Then he ushered her into the house and proceeded to tell her of the events of the previous night and this morning.

When he’d finished, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the rose.

“I’d do anything for you!” Kristiana hugged her father. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to keep your promise. I will be fine. We will both return to the castle once you have rested.”

“I fear what will happen to you. He promised not to harm you, but he said you would be his servant. I pray that he will be kind to you, at least. I will always love you, Kristiana, no matter what.”

The merchant refrained from telling her what he had learned about the dogs. She need not distress over what she did not know and could not change.

Prince Dalemond paced the Great Hall, growling out his frustration. Would the old man honor his promise? He should have killed him and been done with it. That was how his own father would have handled a thief. Whether a loaf of bread, a bag of coins, or a rose off a bush, stealing was stealing.

But the knowledge that his precious dogs had killed the man’s wife, had left his only daughter without a mother; It reminded him of his own loneliness. He had let his emotions overpower justice, and he’d caved in. At least he would have a servant in the house now.

He heard horses approaching, and then the squeal of the gate. He stepped into the shadows, waiting. There were voices outside, and then the pounding of the heavy knocker on the door.

“Enter!” His voice bellowed and echoed through the empty hall.

The wooden door slowly groaned open on its ancient hinges. By the day’s dying light creeping through the open doorway, he saw the merchant step inside. A young woman in a dark, green, hooded cloak followed. She carried the red rose from his garden.

“You, Sir, have fulfilled your promise. You may leave us.”

The woman hugged her father without any tears, and then the merchant hustled out the door.

Prince Dalemond watched her from the shadows, the candlelight from the wall sconces bathing her in a soft glow. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. He’d never seen anyone so lovely.

Her dark brown hair hung in long ringlets on either side of her face. The color of her cloak emphasized the green of her hazel eyes as she slowly took in her surroundings. When she lifted her hand to push back the hood, her arm moved the edge of the cloak aside.

He gasped at the tight bodice of her cream-colored gown; at the swell of her breasts rising above the confines of the low neckline.

She was truly a beauty.

Something clenched in his gut, and he knew he would not be keeping her for a servant as he had planned. He did not want to tarnish one inch of her ivory complexion, flawless except for her cheeks tinged pink from her journey. He had not anticipated such a prize as her.

He stepped out of his hiding place. When the candlelight flooded over him, he heard her gasp. “Welcome to my home, Kristiana. You are my guest. Please, may I take your cloak?”

Kristiana took a step back, clutching one hand at the clasp at her throat. She stared for a moment, looking him over. She swallowed and then lifted her chin up, keeping her gaze from his. “How shall I address you, Sir?”

“My name is Price Dalemond. ‘Your Highness’ will suffice.” He reached out and took her petite hand in his large one. She was shaking, and he gently squeezed her slender fingers. He raised her hand to his lips and placed the lightest kiss across her knuckles. He refrained from closing his eyes and sighing at the lavender scent of her soft skin.

“Well, Your Highness, you say I am a guest, but we both know that I am a prisoner.” Kristiana pulled free from his grasp and squared her shoulders. “If you would so kindly show me to my chamber, I would like to retire for the evening.”

She may have been a beauty, but he had never seen such hostility. Especially after he had extended his generosity to both her and her father. She was just as ungrateful as he had been. She should be happy to have her father still alive!

With a low growl, he spun around and marched toward the grand staircase. He had prepared a room down the North Hall hear his own chambers. But now; now he led her down to the last room in the South Hall. The furthest room from the only other person in the entire castle. If she felt like a prisoner, he would treat her like one.

Once they’d reached her new chamber, she waited until he opened the door, and then she entered with a minute tip of her chin. The room was dark and the air frigid. As angry as he was, he knew he could not leave her to freeze to death. Even his dogs deserved a fire on a cold night such as this.

She stood just inside the doorway. He stepped past her, feeling the heat of her through the material of his shirt as his arm brushed against hers. Pushing away the resulting rush of desire to have that warmth against the rest of his body, he crossed the chamber in four long strides. After he had lit a fire, he turned back to her.

Kristiana had moved to the window and drawn the curtain aside. He suddenly wanted to go to her, to apologize for his gruffness. But then he remembered the way she’d scorned him.

“Dinner will be served shortly.” He made sure his tone relayed that it was a command.

“I’m not hungry.” She kept her back to him. She stared out the window into the darkness instead.

A muscle in his clenched jaw twitched. “Suit yourself!” And then he stormed across the room, slamming the door behind him.

The moment that he was gone, Kristiana collapsed to the floor, her face in her hands. Warm tears wet her already hot cheeks.

“I love you, Father! I will stay here to keep your promise, even though I detest the master of the house. I will never be happy here.”

She glanced at the door, remembering how the prince had towered at least a foot above her. How her hand had disappeared in his when he’d welcomed her. How while she feared him, something inside drew her to him. And that frightened her even more.

Her stomach growled, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting she had lied. She removed her cloak and laid it across the winged armchair by the fire instead. Then she crossed to the four-poster bed, climbing up onto the simple mattress covered by a thin quilt. An even thinner blanket lay folded at the footboard.

An derisive grunt escaped when she thought of it. Meager accommodations for the prisoner. What else should she have expected?

The pillow was soft, though, when she laid her head down. She watched the fire flickering across the small room, thankful for at least that source of heat. Shivers shook her body, and she hugged her arms to her chest, curling into a ball on top of the quilt. Tears trickled down her cheek again as she thought of her predicament.

At some point, she must have drifted off because she felt someone watching her and she sat up with a gasp. But there was no one else there. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and why. She looked around at the fire blazing in the fireplace; her cloak on the chair; the plate of food on the table beside the chair; the blanket lying over her body.

She may be alone now, but someone had been in the room. Did she dare hope that it had been Prince Dalemond? Who else could it have been? Father had mentioned there had been no one else in the castle the night before.

If it had been her host, why did she even care? He was a brute of a man. Only a monster would demand on killing a man for picking a flower; or imprison a young woman as a hostage in his castle. She would be wise to keep her distance from him. Surely, she could find something to do to while away the days she was being held captive. Because deep down, she just knew he would grow tired of her and this wicked game he was playing. Then he would set her free.

Kristiana was halfway across the chamber, no longer able to resist the tray of meats, cheeses, and fruit and the pitcher she hoped contained wine, when the thought occurred to her.

What if he did tire of his game; but he left her hidden away, forgetting about her instead of setting her free? She would never see Father again!

Fresh tears choked her throat. Somehow, she managed to clean the tray before curling up in the chair. Her eyes felt drowsy from the wine. Pulling her cloak over her, she succumbed to sleep. She dreamed that someone was watching her again. And then a warm body carried her. A disarray of memories followed, mainly of her mother.

She woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in the window, the curtains drawn aside. The fire still burned and a new tray of breads and fruit sat on the table. She stretched, yawning and then froze. She was lying in the bed under layers of thick blankets. It had not been a dream. Someone had carried her there.

After a quick breakfast, she washed her face at the basin filled with cool water. When she turned back to the bed, she noticed the wardrobe’s doors were partially ajar. She slowly pulled the doors open all of the way and gasped. Inside hung dresses in a multitude of colors.

She couldn’t help wondering why someone so mean he would keep her captive would also show such acts of kindness. 'His Highness’ was an enigma. And a small part of her begged to understand him.

Choosing a pale yellow dress, she changed her clothes and brushed out her hair. It was time to explore her prison, such as it was.

Prince Dalemond had searched every room but one by noontime. Kristiana was nowhere to be found. He hoped she had not run away. Despite his frustration at her stubbornness last night, he had enjoyed watching her sleep. She had seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Besides, it wasn’t her fault she was here. If her father hadn’t stolen the rose;

He grunted and thought of her creamy breasts rising and falling in her sleep. How her lips had parted with a soft sigh when he’d moved her from the chair. How light her small body had felt in his arms. He’d wanted to kiss her but had refrained.

Now; now he wanted to scream. Where was she? How dare she hide from him!

He pushed open the final door, the door to the library, his breath huffing. And then he froze.

Kristiana sat in the window seat, the skirts of her yellow dress pooled around her, a small stack of books beside her. Her head rose with a start, and she dropped the book she’d been reading.

For the longest moment, they just stared at each other. Her heavy breathing drew his eyes downward. A low moan escaped as his gut tightened.

“Was there something you wanted?”

Her quiet voice broke the spell over him. He lifted his eyes to hers again, swallowing his honesty. Instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s time for the noon meal. Care to join me in the Great Hall?”

She blinked, opened her mouth,

Babysitting Perks

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 18 Apr 2026 16:02:52 +0000

A Snowstorm leaves the sitter stuck at her client’s house.

Based on a post by lily ann. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I spent most nights of my senior year in high school babysitting. It was my parent’s fault, really. Apparently having a real job would affect my grades too much, so I was stuck earning my money by spending my nights in various houses, feeding Kraft Dinner and hot dogs to hyper-active kids while their parents took a night off.

It wasn’t terrible, by any means. In fact, I took it quite seriously. I don’t mind children, and at most places I had full access to the fridge while I finished off my homework after putting the kids to bed. The pay wasn’t bad, either. I liked to play games with the kids and most of the time, the kids asked for me back before their parents did. I had a pretty steady clientele, most within walking distance of my house. It was convenient for me; I had procrastinated getting my driver’s license so long that I was 18 and still only had my learner’s license.

It was late February when Mr. Riley called the first time. I gave my cell phone number out to my clients, and he was lucky enough to call me on one of my nights off. I was in the bathtub when I answered.

“Hello?”

“My name is George Riley. I’m looking for Anna Marchand,” replied the person on the other end. I immediately liked his voice. It wasn’t too deep, but it was soft and smooth. I was almost tempted to consider it calming, but he sounded slightly stressed.

“You’ve reached her,” I said.

“Oh; hi, Anna. I’m a friend of the Anderson’s, and they recommended you as a babysitter. I’ve got a few late meetings next Friday, and my regular sitter isn’t available. I was wondering if you’d be available to watch my son.”

I shifted in the tub, hoping he didn’t hear the water splash. “I usually take Friday nights off, but it sounds like you could use the help.”

“I really could,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than your regular rate or anything;”

"It’s fine,” I interrupted. “I don’t mind, sir, really. I’d love to babysit for your son.”

“Thank you so much,” he said, sounding thoroughly relieved. “His name is Kyle, and he’s three. I would need you from around five until pretty late.”

“Not a problem,” I said. I got the rest of the details from him, and made a note of his address. He lived on the other side of town, but I was sure my mom would be okay with driving me.

Friday came along and I went home after school. I had worn a cute skirt to school and debated on wearing it to the Riley’s, but decided against it; three year olds could be really active and I didn’t want to deal with the skirt. Instead I put on my favorite pair of jeans, dark blue and fitting snugly, with a tight blue scoop neck t-shirt. I never tried to dress provocatively when I went to babysit, but I did try to look fairly nice. I rarely got to go out with friends or boys, because I always seemed to be taking care of someone else’s kids. Usually I was alright with it; not dating just meant I didn’t have to deal with all the drama my friends did, and there were very few guys I knew that I was really interested in, anyway.

I knew there was a reason for it. I would never tell any of my friends, but I found a lot of the men I babysat for much more appealing than any guy my age. I babysat for a lot of babies and toddlers, so their parents tended to be either late twenties or early thirties; not that much older than me, at any rate. A lot of the men were good-looking, and more than once I found my mind fixed on one of them while I got off before falling asleep.

I didn’t know about Mr. Riley, though. The Anderson’s were a couple in their early forties, and since they had referenced me, I figured Mr. Riley might be a bit older than the usual men I babysat for. Even still, I put a little bit of effort into my outfit. The t-shirt clung nicely to my tits, which were a nice size; 36 C, and fairly firm. I had a push-up bra underneath, which showed just a hint of cleavage. It fit slightly looser around my stomach. While I would never consider myself fat, I didn’t have the hard, flat tummies that all my friends seemed to work towards. I didn’t mind, though. It was a small price to pay for having great hips and a round ass. I knew that if I tried to lose any weight, I’d lose those curves, and that was not something I was willing to give up to have a flat stomach. After putting on just a bit of makeup and brushing my long hair off my face, I grabbed my backpack and went to ask my mom to drive me over.

My mom dropped me off at quarter to five. I walked up the driveway. The house was in a fairly good neighborhood and looked pretty nice. I rang the doorbell and waited patiently.

The door was opened a few moments later by a man who, I was surprised to see, looked to be in his early thirties. He was good looking, about 6'2’’ and fairly toned, with deep brown eyes and dark brown hair. He was wearing a nice suit, but looking slightly frazzled.

“Mr. Riley?” I asked.

“Yeah, you must be Anna?”

I smiled. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

He smiled and opened the door. I turned around and waved at my mom, who had been waiting to make sure we had the right address. Mr. Riley led me into the house and offered to take my jacket. I smiled and gave it to him, looking around the house as he put it away. It was nice, but a little messy. There were toys everywhere and I could hear a TV playing a kid’s show in the next room.

“Sorry about the mess,” Mr. Riley said, returning without my jacket. “I haven’t had time to clean anything up.”

“It’s fine,” I said, smiling.

“No, it’s embarrassing.” He smiled at me apologetically. I grinned. He was very attractive, especially when he smiled. I was glad I had put a bit of effort into my outfit, and briefly let myself wonder what he was like in bed.

My thoughts were interrupted by a little boy rushing into the front hall. Mr. Riley turned and lifted the boy.

“This is Kyle,” he said. Kyle looked at me shyly, but he was smiling. He was absolutely adorable, with big brown eyes just like his father’s, and lighter brown hair that fell in his face. He had a smudge of dirt across his cheek and his father wiped it off tenderly.

“Hi Kyle,” I said. “I’m Anna. I’m going to be here with you tonight.”

“Say hi, Kyle,” Mr. Riley said, nudging the little boy.

“Hi,” Kyle said quietly.

Mr. Riley put him down and Kyle ran back into the other room.

“I’ve got to finish getting ready for my meetings,” he said. “If you wouldn’t mind watching Kyle?”

“Of course,” I replied, “that’s what I’m here for.” I walked into the other room and sat on the couch. Kyle looked up from the floor, where he was playing with some cars. I smiled at him, and he stood up, picking his toys up and walking over to the couch.

“Wanna play?” he asked softly.

By the time Mr. Riley poked his head in to tell me he was leaving, Kyle and I were playing cars. Kyle hardly noticed his father leaving, making my job easier. Kids always hate it when their parents go.

He was a good kid, and very talkative. We played cars until I decided it was time for him to eat. Over dinner, Kyle told me about his mom. I wasn’t exceptionally surprised to find out that his parents were divorced, but I was shocked to find out how much Kyle knew about it; especially how easily he told me about how his mother just walked out. It’s surprising how much information kids can absorb, and I felt so bad for the poor kid that I gave him an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert.

It was probably a bad decision on my part; the extra sugar hyped him up so much that I had trouble getting him to bed. By the time he finally fell asleep, it was an hour and a half past his bedtime, and I was exhausted from chasing him around. I felt bad for disobeying what Mr. Riley had asked, but figured I could explain it when he got home.

After Kyle was asleep, I tidied up the den and kitchen before settling myself on the couch. I turned the TV on and started studying. It didn’t take me long to finish my homework, so I spent some time channel surfing and reading some magazines that Mr. Riley had on the coffee table, checking on Kyle every once in a while. I was so tired that I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I was startled awake when I heard the front door open.

I sat up and a magazine fell off my lap just as Mr. Riley entered the room. He smiled at me. “Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I yawned. “I guess so,” I answered, laughing. “I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep.”

He laughed and entered the room, bending down to pick up the magazine I dropped. “Did Kyle wear you out?”

I smiled at him. “Well, it’s my fault, really.” I blushed. “I felt kind of bad for him, so I gave him a little extra ice cream after dinner. He went to bed a little later than you said. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Mr. Riley said. “It’s rare that he likes babysitters, so a little extra ice cream might have been okay.” He frowned for a moment. “Why did you feel bad for him?”

I bit my lip nervously. “Well, he just started talking about; about his mom; and I just;”

Mr. Riley smiled, holding a hand up to cut me off. "I understand.” I took a good look at Mr. Riley. He had a young-looking face, but he looked tired and really tense. His tie was loosened slightly and he had taken off his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. He caught me looking at him and laughed a bit. “I’m a mess, I know,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. “It’s been hard since; well; she just left. I love my son but she was the one who stayed home with him. I’m still trying to figure out how I’m supposed to balance him and my job.”

I smiled, a little unsure of what to say, and he seemed to notice. “Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” I answered. “Well, you know, if you need help I can always come over and babysit.”

He smiled at me again. “I’ll keep it in mind. And thanks for cleaning up, you didn’t have to do that.”

I smiled back. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“Well, thanks. It really helped.”

I picked up my bag. “Would you mind if I used your phone to call my mom?”

“Yeah, go right ahead. It’s in the kitchen.” He leaned back against the couch as I walked away.

I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing my mom’s cell number. My mom picked up after a few rings.

“I’m ready to come home now,” I said.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry!” she answered. “Haven’t you looked outside? It’s a blizzard out there.”

I glanced out the window, surprised to see a ton of snow and the wind howling. “I fell asleep, I hadn’t noticed.”

“That explains why you didn’t answer your cell phone. I keep telling you not to have it on silent. Hon, the car won’t start in this weather and it’s snowed in the driveway.”

“It’s fine, Mom, I’ll call a cab,” I told her.

“Okay, well let me know when it picks you up.”

I assured her I would, and hung up. I walked back to the living room, where Mr. Riley was still sitting on the couch.

“Do you have a phone book?” I asked. “My mom’s car won’t start, I need to call a taxi.”

“Of course,” he said, standing up. We walked back to the kitchen and he grabbed it out of a drawer, leaning against the counter as I dialed.

The phone rang once before a recorded message picked up.

“Thank you for calling Yellow Cab Company,” said a woman’s voice. “Because of the storm in your region this evening, we are unable to provide taxi service. If you are calling in regards to anything else, please press zero to speak with an operator.”

I hung up slowly, turning to Mr. Riley. “The cab company shut down,” I told him.

He nodded. “I thought they might have. The roads are awful.” He thought for a moment. “If it’s alright with you, you’re welcome to spend the night here. We have an extra room. I’d drive you but I don’t want to wake Kyle.”

I considered it for a moment. “It really seems like the only option,” I said quietly. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

He smiled at me. “Not at all. You were so helpful tonight, it’s the least I can do. Call and tell your mother, I’ll go get the guest room ready.”

I called my mom back, telling her I would be staying at the Riley’s.

“Well, alright,” she said, thought slightly reluctantly. “Remember to help Mrs. Riley make breakfast tomorrow.”

I pursed my lips, thinking it would be best if I didn’t tell her that there was no Mrs. Riley. “Alright, Mom, see you tomorrow.”

I hung up the phone and walked down the hallway, where a light was coming from the room next to Kyle’s. Mr. Riley came out as I was walking towards it.

“There’s fresh sheets and everything in there,” he whispered. “But I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to wear.”

“That’s fine,” I replied quietly. “I can just sleep in this.”

He blushed. “Well, my wife left some of her things; I haven’t cleared them out of our room yet. If you’d like you can grab something of hers.”

I blushed in reply, but nodded, seeing as sleeping in my jeans would be kind of uncomfortable. Mr. Riley quietly moved past me and motioned for me to follow him down the hall.

We entered a big master suite, and I bit my lip a bit when I saw it. Not only had Mr. Riley referred to it as “our room,” as though his wife was still there, half the room looked like it hadn’t be touched since she left. His side had clothes on the floor and papers on the wardrobe, but hers was completely clean. There were even bottles of perfume still sitting on the vanity.

He turned around and smiled apologetically. “I should clean up, huh,” he said in a bit of a louder voice, obviously trying to joke a bit.

I laughed softly. “It’s fine.”

He motioned to the closet. “You can pick whatever you’d like. I’ll grab you a toothbrush.” With that, he turned and walked into the ensuite bathroom.

I opened the closet door. It was all woman’s clothes, organized by what must have been occasion, and then by color. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit when I saw it.

There was a section specifically for pajamas. Mrs. Riley had a lot of matching lingerie sets, garters and see-through teddies, and I blushed looking at them. No doubt that she had worn them for Mr. Riley, and I wondered what kind of things they had done after he had slowly pulled them off her. I rifled through her clothes looking for something a bit less revealing. They felt musty, as though she hadn’t even moved them around for ages, even before she left. Dust bounced into the air as I rifled through the clothes. After looking through everything, I finally decided on a pair of shorts and a pink tank top. I pulled it out reluctantly, having hoped for at least a t-shirt, but deciding it would have to do.

“Mommy?”

I whirled around, suddenly hearing a small voice behind me. Kyle’s head was poked through the slightly ajar door, looking at me. I smiled at him.

“No, Anna. Remember me, Kyle?” I asked softly.

His face welled up immediately, and I looked at him helplessly for a moment. At that point, Mr. Riley came out of the ensuite.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, buddy?” he asked.

“Want Mommy!” Kyle shouted, then began to wail.

Mr. Riley glanced at me. “Go ahead and change in there,” he said, pointing to the ensuite bathroom. “He doesn’t usually take long for me to calm down, but I’ll need to take him to the washroom.”

I watched as Mr. Riley picked Kyle up and began to walk down the hall. I walked slowly into the ensuite. It was nicely decorated, with a lot of men’s toiletries on the counter. I slowly stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt and took of my bra before pulling on the pajama set.

I immediately regretted choosing to wear Mrs. Riley’s pajamas. She must have been much skinnier than me, and a lot shorter. I pulled the tank top over my tits with a lot of effort. The material was stretched across my chest and the hem ended a few inches above my naval. The shorts were a little easier to get into, but were still fairly tight, and a lot shorter than I thought they would be; they were practically briefs. I couldn’t do up the drawstring, so I just left it undone.

I stared in the mirror for a few minutes, nervously appraising my appearance. I glanced around the bathroom, looking for a robe of some sort, but found nothing.

“Anna?” I heard Mr. Riley call softly. I opened the door and poked my head out to see Mr. Riley standing in the center of the room. He smiled. “You found something, then?”

I blushed. “Umm; sort of.” He looked at me, confused. “I found something, but I didn’t realize; well, it’s just that; I guess she was a bit smaller than me?”

He nodded quickly. “I didn’t think of that,” he admitted, but then shrugged. “It’s just for sleeping, though, it shouldn’t matter.”

I glanced in the mirror again. I had a feeling that Mr. Riley wouldn’t think the same thing after he saw his wife’s clothes on me, but I shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” I said, turning and opening the door.

When I stepped into the room, Mr. Riley’s mouth dropped open and I blushed immediately. He looked me up and down, staring at my body, and primarily at my tits.

Normally, I would have been embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable, being looked at like. I would have been even more uncomfortable noticing the sudden bulge in his pants. I mean, I wonder sometimes, but thinking about the men I babysit for and actually have them stare at me are two very different things. Mr. Riley, however, was a very good-looking man. I guess my next few actions I blame on that, and the fact that as someone who babysat nearly all the time, I hardly ever got the opportunity to get laid. I let Mr. Riley stare at me for a good minute before I giggled a bit.

“So, it’s not too small then?” I said, blushing as he tore his eyes off my body and looked up at me before glancing back at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking a bit. “No; it’s fine;” I couldn’t help b

A Long Awaited Package

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 16:02:52 +0000

A lonely woman enjoys her postman.

Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Postman in Connected.

Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent. At 48 years old, she s begun to think her chances of finding a mate were slipping away. Her body still has great curves, even if the portions are now more bountiful. Her face was always alluring, but she s not been smiling as much, lately.

Soon enough, Samantha’s alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast.

Sat at the small dining table of her flat’s modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn’t help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rudy.

Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung over his broad shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door.

“Hi” Sam said with a warm continence.

“Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster. I assume it s for you? It says S Foster. Is there any other S foster at this address?”

Sadly, I ve lived alone for several years. My late husband suffered health issues, and passed away 5 years ago.

Ah, that s difficult to get past, isn t it, Miss Foster? You know; Jenny and I, she s my 17 year old daughter; We lost my dear Caroline, 16 years ago. Jenny still has emotional issues with me moving on; you know? Going on dates, and such.

Oh, Rudy, you re raising a daughter by yourself? You re a brave and devoted parent. Is she still in high school?

Graduating this spring! She might be valedictorian, if she keeps up her grades. Heading off to state university next fall on a nursing scholarship. But that s when I hope to move on to what s next for me.

Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman’s uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde color, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter.

Rudy handed her the letters, and the parcel. Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly.

She looked up at him. “Oh, thank you, Rudy.

Smiling, he tipped his hat and said; I better keep moving. Rain showers are expected every afternoon this week. Good day, Miss Foster. It s been really nice to visit.

"Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time tomorrow. 8AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course.”

They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn’t help but sigh, as she watched him go.

Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom.

Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower.

Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her tits, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She’d been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn’t a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalize her.

Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed.

As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she’d see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn’t help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her post to her.

She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear…

Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed.

Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She’d always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she’d been falling behind, and she couldn’t afford to have another unproductive day.

But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she’s just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences, over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day.

By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she’d barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream.

She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn’t stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy.

But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn’t she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She’d made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn’t force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.

Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation.

It didn’t take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she’d accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss’s office.

As she rapped her knuckles against the door, she heard a gruff voice from within.

“Yes, come in.”

Opening the door, she saw the director of her company closing up his laptop and putting it away into his bag.

“Ah, Samantha, how can I help?”

“Hi, Mr. Bergstein, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know I might be a bit late to work tomorrow.”

Her boss raised an eyebrow.

“Tomorrow? You’ve left it awfully late to tell me. What’s going on?”

Samantha felt her heart leap into her throat.

“Something’s come up at home, and I just need to take care of it tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by ten, don’t worry.”

Mr. Bergstein gave a slight chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I won’t, as long as you’re happy to stay late to make up for it?”

Samantha grinned. That was easier than expected.

“Of course, sir! See you tomorrow!”

“Goodbye, Miss Foster.”

Closing the door to the office, Samantha felt giddy. Grabbing her coat and bag, she hurried outside to her car, throwing open the door and climbing inside. The ride home was a blur, she struggled to focus on the road as a mixture of emotions shot through her brain. By the time she got home she was positively ecstatic.

That evening was one of the hardest of Samantha’s life. She sat on the couch, trying to focus on the tv, trying to ignore the anticipation hovering in her gut. Soon enough, it was time for bed, and as she climbed under the sheets, her satin nightgown smooth against her skin, she hoped she’d fall asleep quickly.

After tossing and turning for close to an hour, she finally managed to overcome the butterflies in her stomach that kept her from sleep. The next morning, when her alarm clocked beeped out its familiar chime, it took no time at all for Samantha to wake up. Practically leaping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom. It was earlier than usual, she wanted to give herself a bit of extra time just to make sure everything was perfect.

Shedding her nightie, she climbed eagerly into the warm water of the shower, closing her eyes as her body relaxed under the steady stream. She didn’t let her mind wander today, her thoughts too focused on her plan. Grabbing the shower gel, she made sure to wash herself thoroughly, before returning the bottle to its shelf and reaching for her razor.

By the time she’d finished, her legs were as smooth as silk, not too speak for her underarms or her privates. Turning off the water, she quickly dried herself with a towel from the rack, and headed back towards her bedroom.

Sitting herself down, still wrapped in her towel, she began to fix her make-up. She wanted to look her best, after all. She tried to keep it modest, but sexy; mascara, eyeliner, and ruby red lipstick. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, before blowing a playful kiss to her reflection.

Shedding the towel, she opened her closet. Time for the hardest choice. Rifling through her lingerie draw, she finally settled on an outfit; a black and red lace bra with matching panties, sheer black stockings, suspenders, and a black garter belt. She stood in front of the mirror, admiring herself. She looked stunning.

Quickly making the bed, she made her way towards the stairs, just in time for the doorbell to ring, sending a wave of excitement and anticipation throughout her entire body. Trying to keep her nerves under control, Samantha made her way towards the door. Through the glass she could see Rudy’s silhouette, and her heart skipped a beat. This was it. Reaching out a quivering hand, she grasped the door handle, and opened it.

“Good morning, Miss.. oh.”

Samantha stood there for a moment, catching her breath as Rudy looked her up and down. The way his eyes moved across her body told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. The bulge quickly forming in his trousers did the rest. His eyes flicked up to meet hers.

“Should I come in?”

His words gave her all the courage she needed. Breaking into a mischievous smile Samantha reached out and grabbed his collar with both hands, pulling him excitedly into the entrance hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Now pressed tightly together between the narrow walls of the hallway, she pulled his face down to hers, launching the two of them into a passionate kiss.

As their lips touched, Samantha felt her heart beating as loud as drum, amazed and excited by Rudy’s willingness. She let her mouth open, and he followed suit, allowing her tongue into his mouth as she deepened the kiss.

Samantha was in heaven. She could barely believe this was really happening, that she had the man, the object of all her carnal desires, here in her arms.

As they kissed, tongues dancing passionately, she felt Rudy’s hands slip from his bag to her waist, holding her bare sides firmly, drawing her closer to him, until their bodies were pressed tight, and she could feel his own fast heartbeat pounding in time with her own.

Closing her eyes tight, she let go of his collar, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, cupping one side of his face as she did. The rough texture of his stubble made her shiver, and in response she felt his hands beginning to roam. Slowly at first, just his thumbs rubbing in rhythmic circles, teasing her, before beginning to move his whole hands up and down her sides, his firm grip sending shivers throughout her body. As he began tracing a sensual pattern across her bare skin, she broke the kiss to let out a short breathy gasp of arousal.

Taking his opportunity, Rudy lent forward, his mouth next to her ear, and began to speak softly to her as his hands continued to explore her body. “How long have you been planning this?”

Samantha could barely respond. “Only since yesterday. But I’ve wanted you for so much longer.”

Rudy smiled. “I’ve wanted you too.”

Samantha opened her eyes, her face inches from the handsome man holding her in his arms, the man she’d secretly pined over for months, and couldn’t stop herself kissing him once more.

The two stood in the hallway, lips pressed tightly together, kissing passionately as Rudy’s hands moved across Samantha’s body, from her sides to her back, down to her ass. Soon, after what felt to her like a blissful eternity, Samantha grasped his collar once again, breaking the kiss to give him another mischievous smile.

“Come on” she said, escaping from his embrace to drag him towards the stairs, up to her bedroom. They’d barely made it through the door before she had him on his back, sprawled out on her bed as she stood over him, body pink and flushed with arousal.

Heart pounding, she took a step forward, gently dropping to her knees as she crawled towards him. Kneeling between his legs, she looked up at his face, also flushed, and began to slowly unzip his fly. She took her time, making sure to draw the act out for as long as possible, before gently tugging the heavy fabric down to his knees.

Samantha looked back down, at the large bulge now facing her, covered only by the thin cotton of Rudy’s boxers. With trembling fingers, she worked her way along the waistline, making sure to watch his face as she did, reveling in the excited frustration he showed at her teasing.

Finally, she pulled down the fabric, allowing his erection to spring forth. Samantha gasped. Barely inches from her face stood Rudy’s cock, hard and pulsing before her. It was larger than she’d expected, and as she stared she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering harder than ever before.

Slowly, trying hard to keep her nervous hands steady, Samantha curled her fingers around the shaft, being careful not to lose sight of Rudy’s face. The postman let out a low groan as he finally felt her soft hands on his cock.

Filled with a new confidence, Samantha began to stroke. Starting slow, she soon found a comfortable rhythm, and before long had Rudy groaning as she worked his shaft with her hands. She stared up at him, admiring her skills. It had been a while since she’d had someone to use them on. Leaning forward, eyes still locked on his, she planted a soft kiss at his base, causing the cock in her hand to jump.

Letting out a satisfied giggle, she began to work her mouth along the side of his shaft, kissing as she went, until she reached the head of his cock. For a moment she hovered, staring in amusement at the purple head before her, before opening her mouth and taking him inside.

Immediately Rudy let out a moan, followed by a breathy exhale as Samantha adjusted to the size of his cock. Gently, she ran her tongue around the head, sensually exploring every inch with glee. His cock tasted divine, and Samantha couldn’t get enough. With care, she ran her tongue across the tip, savoring the salty sweet taste of precum while Rudy shivered beneath her. Closing her eyes, she decided it was time to go further.

Keeping hold of the base with one hand, she began to bob her head, relaxing as she took the first few inches inside. It felt hot in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but feel her cheeks flushing with excitement. Slowly moving up and down, she tried to draw out each rise as much as she could, forcing him to wait for each new stroke, before deciding again, each time taking him almost half way into her mouth before coming back up again.

Samantha felt amazing. Looking up at his face, eyes shut and mouth open in a mask of pleasure, she knew how much pleasure she was giving him with her mouth. She felt a surge of pride. Here she was, on her knees, going down on the man she’d lusted after for so long. And there he lay, moaning as she sucked him off. She’d never felt so sexy.

Returning to the cock in her mouth, she began moving with renewed vigor, speeding up her strokes as she began to work the shaft with her hand as well. Moving in tandem with her fingers, she bobbed her mouth up and down vigorously, in turn making Rudy groan audibly with pleasu

A Bath with My Oldest Friend

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 16:05:09 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

Cat and Henry share a relaxing intimate bath.
by Eeveelynn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

“Baths ready.” I heard echo out of the bathroom.
“Thankyou.” I mumbled, getting up from the bed, slower this time.
The bath was aromatic, full of bubbles and looked so peaceful. I leaned against the door frame closing my eyes.
“Cat, are you going to be ok in there?” He questioned softly.
“I’m fine!” I snapped back to reality. I was aware of my stubborn determination to be self sufficient, especially after having panic attack.
“It’s ok to need help.” Again the soft tone of his voice irked at my independence.
“I’m fully capable of having a bath, what are you going to do? join me? It’s ok, I’ve got this.” I said trying and failing to unzip the back of my dress.
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8 Minutes In A Carwash

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 15 Apr 2026 16:01:57 +0000

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Hot sex to go with that hot wax.
by ClochardCeleste, listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
We pulled in to the gas station and he put the truck in park. You want to tell me we re at a gas station at one in the morning instead of in bed at my apartment?I pointed to the long, squat building adjacent to the gas station, its drive-in conveyorized tunnel car wash. I d done a little recon on it, knew how it ran, knew all the levels of service it provided, and knew exactly how long the Ultimate Supreme Wash Plus service lasted. I d run my own car through it last week. I knew that in exactly eight minutes your car got the Simoniz double bond, the wheel brite brake dust cleaner, the tire shine, UV protectant triple foam polish, and a hot wax and shine treatment.
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2-Hour Request Hour

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 14 Apr 2026 16:03:45 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

Disc Jockey’s Birthday Marathon
by Fugman’s, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Many years ago I used to be a radio DJ, a job I truly loved for many different reasons. First, I worked overnights on the weekend, so other than the DJ that worked at the other station in the building, there was no one ever around. I would invite my girlfriend and she would hang out with me pretty much my whole shift.
I had an airshift one year around my birthday, and I invited Stacy to hang with me during my shift.
I worked from twelve am to 6am, and she came by about half an hour into my shift wearing my favorite little black dress that shoed my two favorite things, cleavage and her long legs. She usually stayed until I left for the night, so I figured she had something in mind.
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Julia’s Booty: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 16:06:11 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

They were College Prep Study Partners
by Feynman15, in 4 parts, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“Seems like you’ve got this down,” I said. I unclicked my pen and started putting away my things. “Your parents getting home soon?”

“Umm, lemme check.” She took out her phone.

“If not,” I said, “maybe we can talk about what we talked about before.”

She smiled as she constructed her text. Like Margo, Julia had a sarcastic undertone to her demeanor. She was hilarious, but she rarely let you see it on her face. She had bright green eyes, but they were masked by heavy eyelids. A minute of fervent typing and paper shuffling and I was packed up and ready for the answer.
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Daring Alicia: Part 4

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 12 Apr 2026 16:05:07 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

The Conclusion
By PaulStevens. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The next morning, however, was not as peaceful or loving; that coldness had returned. She had said too much again and clamped up. After a tense flight he dropped her off and before she got out of the car he asked, “So where do we go from here?” Alicia was silent and couldn’t bring herself to look at him, it was obvious to him that she herself could not figure out what she wanted. He knew that the battle between her feelings for him and her fear of being hurt had to be intense. His feelings on the matter were no less as he, was on one hand so certain they loved each other that he’d be willing to wait forever for her, but on the other how long should he wait? Would she ever be ready? Ever ready to move past what Joe had done to her? A few hours ago he thought she had, but now, he was not so sure that was ever possible.
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Daring Alicia: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 11 Apr 2026 16:04:47 +0000

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Not So Musical Tents
By PaulStevens. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The next morning what transpired could best be described as chaos as it seemed that for one reason or the other the other three couples had not had an exactly enjoyable first night. Frankly Jeremy was surprised everyone was able to put aside their differences to eat that morning’s pancakes. However, once breakfast was finished hostility again rose.
Beth was angry at Sam for trying to have sex with her the night before. Something Jeremy was surprised to learn they hadn’t done yet despite months of dating. Amber and Ryan’ tent had flooded and each blamed the other. Amber was more upset for being dragged along. Finally the normally rock-steady Tim and Erin were having a disagreement about calling home. Erin was clearly concerned about the baby and wanted to check in. Tim thought she was nuts and stated the phone wasn’t working anyway.
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Daring Alicia: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 10 Apr 2026 16:06:21 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

Social Bartering
By PaulStevens. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
“Now that that is settled, I need something in return for going. I myself am in a social bind of sorts. You see I organized a guy’s camping trip with two of my friends awhile back. After talking with another of my friends I decided to invite him, too, which my friend Sam then took as a license to invite his girlfriend along. I should explain that Sam and Beth, his girlfriend, both live at home so he’s obviously doing this to get laid, but I digress. Anyway knowing I would object Sam told Tim, the other friend I originally invited, that Beth was coming so he should invite his wife Erin. They have a newborn and somehow got a sitter for the weekend so of course Erin is coming. Upon hearing that Beth and Erin were coming I had to tell Ryan, my third friend, that his fiancée Amber was invited and of course she is now also coming.
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Daring Alicia: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 09 Apr 2026 16:06:24 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

Jeremy does something out of character, will it pay off?
By PaulStevens. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
It had been another typical Friday evening on the train for Jeremy. He was glad to see the week at last come to an end, not to mention he was looking forward to meeting with his buddies, once this infernal train finally reached his stop.
“Only six stops to go,” he reminded himself, as both time and the train seemed to crawl along. The train was better than driving from his far suburb to the downtown, and back each day. He knew it was far faster too, but still some days that hour seemed so much longer, and this was one of them.
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April Fools Sex Pranks: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 08 Apr 2026 16:04:01 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

Tied up, blindfolded, and being ridden.
By TruthWithaTwist. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
We got to the resort and it was everything we expected. It was a cheesy resort built for “romance weekends”. They did a have a “lodge restaurant” and because it was off-season, we had no problem getting our choice of cabins and were told to come down the restaurant at any time.
The guy working the front desk told us that the hot tub on the deck was usable, but suggested that we turn the heat on before dinner if we wanted to use it later. He also mentioned the romance package and asked if he could have it delivered while we dined. He said all of this unironically and without embarrassment.
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April Fools Sex Pranks: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 07 Apr 2026 16:04:45 +0000

steamy-stories-blog:

My girlfriend and her sister play dueling practical jokes on me.
By TruthWithaTwist. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I was midway through my first year of Graduate school, getting my MBA, when my girlfriend, Tara, asked if I wanted to drive to her family’s house a few hours away for the weekend. It was her Mother and Step-Father’s 20th wedding party and I jumped at the chance to get away from campus for a few days. The party was scheduled for April 2nd, but their actual anniversary was April 1st, which was a running joke in the family. The chance to get away sounded great and I knew that Tara and I would always find ways to entertain ourselves on long car rides.
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My Sexuality Class Lab Partner: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 22 Mar 2026 16:05:04 +0000

Preparing For Tuesday’s Cunnilingus Class.

By Quinn_McMullen. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Story Recap

I’m Dan, a senior majoring in mechanical engineering. I needed two general education requirements to complete my degree, at a university in the Chicago area. It’s a cold January, on campus. I was able to enroll in an English literature class and Dr. Martin’s Sociology 369 Human Sexuality course, for the second semester.

On the first day of class, we learned about male and female orgasms. Dr. Martin allowed students to submit a standard analysis and reading notes or to provide an alternative assignment. The first alternative assignment was to masturbate either alone or with an observer and report on our experience.

Hannah, a coed was sitting in class next to me. I asked to be her partner. While we were trying to get comfortable with one another, we ended up having sex.

Dinner

As I sat with Hannah at dinner, I had so many questions I wanted to ask her, but she started off.

She looked me in the eye, “So you’re what? Twenty two? Twenty three?

"Twenty two.”

“I’m twenty one. So, I have to say that I am not normally that aggressive. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I thought it was wonderful.”

Hannah nodded, “I’m sure you did, but I’m not sure what happened. I had every intention in the world of sitting there with you, reading until dinner. And then.” She averted her gaze, then looked back into my eyes, “Then I just wanted you. I can’t explain it. I’ve never started anything with a guy before. It has always been the guy coming on to me.”

“I really didn’t mind. It was definitely a gift. Guys often leave a gal frustrated because they can’t work up the nerve to initiate things. Especially when the gal is as gorgeous as you.”

Hannah reached out and touched my hand, "Ah, thanks! Dan, it’s okay. I guess I’m just trying to understand my actions. It was so out of character for me.”

“Maybe you’re comfortable with me. I hope, anyway?”

She laughed, “Undoubtedly. You’re a really nice guy.” She released my hand, “No, more than that. I know we just met, but I feel like you care about me as a person. I just hope that by being the initiator, I haven’t made you not like me.”

“Hannah, I would never think that. You are self-confident, that’s all. You’re very respectful and sensitive. You weren’t pushy at all.”

“See, that’s the thing. I’ve never really been all that self-confident. Certainly not when it comes to sex.”

“How much sex have you,” I stopped myself. “I’m sorry. That’s not polite for me to ask.”

"No, I’m okay with talking to you about it. There was my date for the senior prom. Spring semester freshman year I had a boyfriend for a couple of weeks. Probably had sex two or three times with him. Sophomore year I had sex a couple of more times. Once over the summer. Once with Jeff last semester. Altogether, I’ve probably had sex less than ten times in my entire life. Not counting Sterling.”

“Sterling?” I was puzzled.

“Sterling is my chrome vibrator.” Hannah explained. “Until today, only Sterling could reliably bring me to orgasms. Today was the first time someone not named Sterling, gave me an orgasm. How about you?”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m promiscuous, but I’ve had sex a lot more than that. It was always in a relationship. Let’s see, I’ve been intimate with five girlfriends. This was the first time I had sex with someone on the first day I met them.”

“Same here. I hope you didn’t mind.”

“Do I in any way look like I didn’t have the time of my life? Not at all. It was amazing. Maybe it was a desire to try out some of the things we learned in class.”

Hannah smiled, “Well you tried out something you learned. Did you rub my g spot?”

“Yeah. It was all wrinkly.” I added. “Nothing like a good hands-on lab project.”

“I was already cumming and then that sent me into orbit. Holy shit.” Hannah exclaimed.

“As an observer, that was pretty cool. I obviously ‘pressed your button’, right?” I gloated.

"Observer? Dan, you did that to me. You were my lover. Come to think of it, you propped me up so you could screw me like that dildo in the film.”

“I did.” I proudly admitted.

“That was quite creative.” She marveled.

“Thanks.” I grinned.

We ate in silence for several minutes. It wasn’t the least bit awkward though.

Hannah stopped eating, “Normally I would try to fill silence. I don’t feel like I have to. It’s like we’re two old married people that are completely comfortable with each other.”

I stopped eating, “You’re right. I don’t know very much about you, but it’s like I’ve known you a long time.”

She nodded and continued eating. Another minute of silence passed.

I reached out and touched her hand, “Do you believe in fate?”

“I haven’t given it much thought.” She wondered where this was going.

“I mean, what are the odds that I would have to sit next to you, you would ask me to be your partner, and we would hit it off so well?”

“Look it, Dan. I’m not a religious person. I’m sure there is a perfectly good probability that that would happen.”

I nodded, “Okay, but the odds are not that high.”

“That two random college students sitting next to one another would become friends, partners, and lovers? It think they are very high. That those two people would be you and me, that’s just the universe rolling the dice.” She squelched my sentimentality.

She was right, but the thought was disappointing. I pulled my hand back.

Hannah grabbed my hand, “Dan, I feel like I just burst a bubble on you.”

“Yeah. Maybe. A little. I had the thought that maybe someone was looking out for us and;”

“If it makes you feel any better, “ she interrupted; “I could very well be wrong. I agree that it is very cool that you sat down next to me. Whatever force in the universe made that happen, I’m very grateful. Done eating?”

“Yeah.”

The Library

To avoid temptation, we agreed to study together in the library. About nine we headed to Hannah’s room. The cold and wind had eased a bit, making it easier to talk.

Once outside, Hannah took my hand, “How should we decide who goes first?”

“I don’t have a problem going first.”

Hannah laughed, “I’m kind of excited. I’ve never seen a guy get himself off.”

“I guess that’s a reason Dr. Miller said we could have an observer.”

I held the door for her when we got to her dorm. Inside her room I took off my jacket.

Hannah stopped to watch me, “This feels very clinical again. Could I undress you?”

“Sure.”

Hannah came over to me and put her hands behind my neck, “Maybe some mood-setting would help too.” She went on tip-toe and kissed me, “Yes. That’s what we need.” She turned on her stereo. In a couple seconds, Simple Minds was playing ‘Don’t you Forget About Me’.

She pulled me to her bed, sat down, and pulled me down with her, “Much better.”

We lay side-by-side, exploring each other’s mouth. I finally pulled her on top of me so I could hold her ass cheeks. She seems to love having her ass caressed.

After several minutes of necking I spoke into her mouth, “I think I’m ready.”

“I feel something.” She said with a horny wink. Her mix tape was now playing Rick Astley, singing ‘Never Gunna Give You Up’. I’m guessing this was Hannah’s mood music for when she pleasured herself. But that was her business. I just decided to enjoy the moment.

Hannah rolled off me and I stood up. I pulled my shirt off and dropped my jeans, standing there in my partially tented boxers.

“Ready?”

She smiled and I let my boxers fall to my ankles, flipping them across the room with a flick of my foot. I slowly stroked my tumescent cock.

Hannah stood up, “I think I promised to let you see me naked to help get you aroused.”

“You did.” I recalled.

“Why don’t you sit on the bed and let me give you something to get aroused about.”

I climbed up to the headboard and placed a pillow behind my back. Hannah began a little bump and grind strip tease. I pulled on my cock to firm it up. By now her mix tape was playing Tears for Fears, singing ‘Everybody Wants To Rule the World’ with its sultry beat.

She turned away from me and pulled her shirt off. She swiveled her jean-clad hips, then kicked off her shoes. Hannah loved to dance and it’s clear she was very good at it. Somehow her socks went flying. She stepped up onto the bed and stood above me, one leg on either side.

She placed her hands on the wall to balance herself and then placed her foot on my cock, “Let me rub that for you.”

I wouldn’t call it rubbing, but she did move her foot up and down on my shaft. It wasn’t exactly effective and soon she was back standing on the floor. She turned away and dropped her jeans to the floor. Hannah flipped them aside with her foot, then climbed back up on the bed. Standing above me in her bra and panties was more arousing. She stepped forward so that her crotch was inches from my face.

I leaned forward, pressed my nose into her crotch, and took a deep breath, “God, you smell good.” Her pheromones made a beeline to my cock.

Hannah stepped back on the floor and removed her bra and panties, “Sorry, I’m not very creative with a strip tease.”

“I appreciate the creativity” I encouraged her.

“Thanks. How about if I just stand here in all my nakedness?”

“That works.”

I was rock hard now and it was easy to stroke myself. I was thinking I needed some lube when Hannah crawled up on the bed and got very close to my cock.

She smiled, “I’m observing.”

I laughed.

Hannah ran her hand down my thigh, “Perhaps you should position yourself so that I can see your asshole. I need to know if it contracts when you cum.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I slouched down at her headboard. I placed my feet so that my legs were spread out and knees bent; and she had a good view of my anus. She was kneeling in front of me. I licked my stroke hand to provide some lubrication. Now her stereo was playing A-Ha. The cut was ‘Take On Me’.

Hannah said, “I can provide some saliva.” She leaned forward dribbled some spit on the head of my cock.

I smiled, “That’s helpful.”

“But probably not enough.” She grabbed my stroke hand and placed her mouth on my cock, sucking away.

“I think that defeats the purpose of the assignment.”

She came off for a moment, “I don’t care.”

Hannah soon had my entire shaft wet with saliva. She stroked me with her hands while sucking and churning the head in her mouth. The stereo filled the room with ‘Shout’ from Tears For Fears.

When I groaned my appreciation, I felt her finger at my ass. I think she had her juices on her finger because she slipped right in. She found my prostate.

“Oh god, Hannah. Hannah. Cumming. I’m cumming.” The stereo rumbled; “Shout, shout, let it all out”.

Everything sped up, her mouth, her fingers rubbing in my ass. I grabbed my knees and pulled my legs toward me. The point of no return approached and my world narrowed to my cock and ass. My body started quaking uncontrollably. Hannah’s eyes were locked in on mine as she swallowed everything I shot. I threw my head back as my orgasm continued. All I could feel was her fingers rubbing my prostate and her mouth on my cock, churning, sucking, licking. I tried to say something, but a croaking sound came out.

Suddenly my cock was beyond sensitive, “Please.” I released my knees and held her face, “Please.”

“Stop?” She asked for clarification.

“Yes.”

Hannah climbed up and lay down next to me. She kissed me with closed lips. I grabbed her face and probed my tongue into her salty mouth.

She eased off, “That’s cool that you don’t mind kissing me. I had a guy that wouldn’t kiss me after he came in my mouth. By the way, I used what they did in the movie in class. It works.”

“Wow, Does it ever.” I blurted out.

“Your whole body was shaking.” She told me.

“Thank you, Hannah. That was amazing. If you let me recover for a couple minutes, I would love to return the favor.”

“Offer accepted,” Hannah said as she swung her leg over me and stared kissing me again.

After a few minutes of necking I was ready to go, “Why don’t you lie back and see what I can do for you.”

Something told me to hold off on straight licking. I decided to kiss her ear lobes and then went for her nipples. I licked my way across her stomach and stopped at her pubes to breathe in her scent.

Her clit was prominent at the top of her slit and her inner labia extended out a little. She had shaved her labia. I lapped up her juices, then moved to her clit.

I looked up at Hannah. Her eyes were locked in on me.

She whispered, “Maybe not straight, constant licking. Ease up a little from time to time so I don’t get numb.”

I followed her advice. Eurythmics was filling the room with a hypnotic spell from ‘Sweet Dreams Are Made of These.’

Hannah grabbed her nipples and was rolling them, “Oh, Dan. Oh.” I assumed that was a signal that she was cumming. I probed into her vagina and found her g spot.

“Ah.” Hannah’s vagina started contracting. She arched her back and I could hear her panting. She forcibly pressed my forehead away from her crotch. I kept rubbing her g spot.

Then Hannah wrapped her legs around my head and began bucking her hips. I took this as some kind of signal to stop.

Slowly her body relaxed, “Oh my god. Dan, come up here.”

I climbed up next to her.

“That was so nice. Let’s climb in under the covers. I want to snuggle with you.”

As I held her, I whispered, “I can see why people sleep with each other. This is cozy.”

“Very cozy.” I concurred.The mix tape faded to Sinéad O'Connor sang ‘Nothing Compares 2 U.’ I faded to slumber.

Sleeping With Hannah

As I emerged from sleep, I sensed a warm body next to me. When I opened my eyes, it was dark. I saw a lighted alarm clock across the room. I tried to place where I was and then I remembered. Hannah.

When I emerged from sleep again, the room was light. I lay still, savoring the moment. We lay like spoons. My arm was under Hannah’s head. Her ass was pressed up against me and I had a bit of morning wood. My other hand was on her hip. She felt so silky and soft.

After a bit of time, Hannah stirred.

She rolled over, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Hannah.”

“Is this one of those mythical morning woodies?”

“Not mythical. I wake up with one on a regular basis.”

“So, it isn’t because of me.”

“No, but I have to say that sleeping with you is just short of heavenly.”

“Agreed. Shall we start our day?”

“I could use a shower.”

“So could I. I wish I could take one with you, but the other girls on the floor might be either offended or jealous.”

Breakfast

Over breakfast, Hannah asked, “So, what do you think about Elizabeth Bennet?”

“Elizabeth Bennet? Do I know her?”

“From Pride and Prejudice?”

“Oh. Yes.” I remembered. “ Kind of early in the book, but I have to say that the situation that her and her sisters are in is horrible.”

“Things were not good for women back in jolly old England. I think that’s the 1800s. Or anywhere else for that matter.”

“She sounds like someone I would like to know.” I said. “She seems smart, independent. She’s got a very strong will. Probably a lot like you.”

Hannah smiled, “Thanks. And you’re still early in the book. What do you think of Jane Austen’s writing?”

“Love it. So lyrical.”

Friday Masturbation Assignment

On Friday afternoon, we finally got around to conducting our masturbation assignment. Here is what I wrote for Dr. Miller:

My observer was Hannah. She was also my partner as you will see.

I positioned myself on my bed so that my partner could observe me. I made sure my legs were such that she could see my anus. By mutual agreement, we were both naked so that I would be aroused by her body. Hannah has a beautiful body. I began pulling on my penis to get it hard. It did not take long given the goddess in front of me. Normally I would use saliva to lubricate myself, but my partner allowed me to use some of her vaginal juice as lubrication. It was much slicker and much more effective.

Once I was hard, I stroked myself in the usual manner, focusing on the head of my penis and the sensitive edge. I am circumcised and the scar is a little sensitive as well. My partner asked me to let her know when I was getting close. I focused on her charms and after several minutes, I felt my orgasm approaching. I let my partner know.

Hannah slipped two lubricated fingers into my anus and massaged my prostate just like the film we saw in class. The ensuing orgasm was one of the most intense experiences of my life. All my focus centered on my erection and my prostate. As I came, my body began shaking uncontrollably. I shot my load all over my chest. There were three distinct strings of cum, plus a smaller fourth string. Once I shot my load, I stopped stroking myself because of sensitivity, but my partner kept rubbing my prostate and the intense orgasm continued for about 30 seconds.

Unlike a regular orgasm, this was much more of a whole-body orgasm. The shaking lasted as long as Hannah rubbed my prostate.

Afterwards I was exhausted. We both tasted my semen. It was a little salty and a little musky. My partner thought it tasted a little like mushrooms.

Here is Hannah’s submission:

I positioned myself on the bed with my legs spread so that my partner (Dan) could observe me. I have a fantasy that I use to arouse myself. I imagine kissing a movie star. Dan said he would sit in for the movie star. Plus, he was naked and in person! He let me run my fingers through his chest hair and hold his penis. After we had been kissing for a while, I thought I was ready. My partner moved back and I began rubbing my clit in my usual way small, quick

My Sexuality Class Lab Partner: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 21 Mar 2026 16:03:26 +0000

Dan enrolls in a sexual sociology class.
By Quinn_McMullen. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Prologue:
It was Chicago, in the mid 1980s. Those were very different times. Fashion and language were different. Technology was quite different. We didn’t have the internet, and cable television was just becoming widespread. Pubic hair was uncut & often not trimmed.. The only sexual fear for straight people was getting pregnant; and the pill mostly took care of that.
I was a senior and I needed both a literature class and social science class to complete my general education requirements to graduate. Because of my class standing, I was finally going to be able to register early in the cycle. I filled out several possible registration cards, and waited dutifully in the line. When I got to the registration window, I was pleasantly surprised to find that SOC 369 Human Sexuality was still open. I registered for the class and hoped it was everything the rumors made it out to be.
As the Spring Semester started, I tried to find out if I knew anyone in SOC 369. None of my engineering classmates were interested. And I was disappointed to find that none of my female friends had registered for it either. It had the potential to be less than fun. But I remembered the stories about the course lots of discussion of sex, sex, and sex. It couldn’t be that bad.
The class was scheduled for Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. The first class was on a Thursday and I arrived ten minutes early for the first class. The room was already packed. On the front desk were two piles of papers with a sign that said, “Take one of each.” One was the syllabus and the other was a list of assignments with details and due dates.
Thursday Pre-Class
I looked around the packed room and saw a seat next to a pretty blonde. “Is this seat taken?”
“It looks like it’s perfect for you." She chuckled.
I held out my hand, "Hi, I’m Dan.”
She smiled sweetly, “I’m Hannah.”
A woman in her forties entered the room and began walking around talking to students. I assumed this was the famous Dr. Miller. She was tall and thin with a nice figure. She was professionally dressed in a skirt, blouse, and blazer. The skirt came to just above the knee and showed some shapely, bare legs. She started working the room.
When she got to us, she said, “Hannah, good to see you again. Did you have a good winter break?”
“I did Dr. Miller.”
Dr. Miller turned to me and extended her hand, “A new person in my class.”
I stuck out my hand, “Pleased to meet you Dr. Miller. Dan McDevitt.”
“A senior. Mechanical engineering major. Wow! I’m impressed." She chuckled at herself, "I try to learn about my students beforehand. It isn’t hard if you actually care about people.” She looked at her watch, “Show time.”
Dr. Miller walked to the front of the room, “Let’s get started. My name is Dr. Shannon Miller. This class is S O C 3 69, Human Sexuality. If you aren’t registered, you will have to leave. No auditing.”
Two guys got up and headed toward the door.
She continued, “It isn’t that I want to be a hard ass, but if I didn’t have that limitation, this place would be standing room only. If you are curious how the course was numbered, I asked for it and there was no objection until I was teaching it for three semesters. By then it was too late to change it.”
There were some scattered laughs and giggles.
“We’ll skip the usual introductions. I think I know everyone. If you don’t know your classmates, I think you will quickly learn about them.”
Lecture Begins
“As the title suggests, this is a course in human sexuality. I must tell you that this class will get very graphic at times. We will examine the wide range of human sexual activity, from straight sex to some of the kinkiest stuff you can imagine. This may be uncomfortable for some of you. As a class, we can overcome this discomfort by keeping our minds open, being respectful of each other, and sharing our thoughts. Given the number of smiles, that sounds like what a lot of you signed up for.
"I expect everyone to act as an adult. I don’t want to hear titters and I don’t want to hear anyone shaming anyone else. Respect is our watch word. If you cannot act as a mature adult and show respect to everyone in the room, then I will ask you to leave. If you do not voluntarily leave, I will have campus security remove you. I don’t fuck around with any of that. And yes, I have a potty mouth. I want everyone to feel safe here. This class is like Las Vegas. If someone shares some intimate part of their life, I expect it to stay in this room. Am I clear?
Dr. Miller looked each of us in the eye, "Good. Does anyone want to leave?” Again she looked around.
“Very well. I will also use a lot of visual aids photos and film. This is not pornography. Since this is a liberal arts college, I am a strong believer that this is a time for you to explore and learn about yourself. I cannot require that you engage in sexual activity. That would be unethical and for many people, immortal. I will provide alternative assignments that you are free to undertake. In the assignment sheet I provide details on how you can fulfill both regular and alternative assignments. For example, after today’s class, you may decide to experiment with self-love. Essentially, in the privacy of your room you can masturbate and then report on your observations. If you would like to have an observer present, that is also an option. Any questions?”
“Seeing none, we’ll get started.” She went to the front of the class and pulled down a screen. She flipped on an overhead projector and placed a slide on it, “So here is a very simple question: Why do we want to have sex? Danielle.”
“Because it makes us feel good.”
“Yes, it does. Brian.”
“We have a drive to reproduce.”
Dr. Miller walked to the side of the room, “One of our strongest instincts. Sarah.”
“Because we are attracted to the other person and we want to be intimate with them.”
“Ah. Intimacy. Another strong drive. Hannah.”
“Orgasms.”
Dr. Miller laughed, “Yes. The elephant in the room. Today we will discuss orgasms.” She put up another slide, “So what is the average time it takes for a man to reach orgasm if he is masturbating? Dan.”
“Five minutes.”
“Not that long. Greg?”
“Four?”
“Almost. Rich?”
He laughed, “Maybe three?”
“Good guess! Three minutes. So how long does it take a woman to reach orgasm if she is masturbating? Bridget?”
“I’m guessing. Four minutes?”
“Yes, good guess. So what can we conclude from those two numbers. Elizabeth.”
“That men and women are pretty close to having the same sexual response if they are stimulated properly.”
“Excellent! If you are gay, lesbian, or a virgin, you don’t have to answer this next question. By a show of hands, how many of you know that your partner reaches orgasm during straight sex? Penis in vagina sex.”
Of the 25 people in the room, about 18 hands went up.
“Please leave your hands up. We have ten men and eight women. Now, how many of You reach orgasm during straight sex?”
All the men left their hands up, but only one woman left their hand up.“
"Very interesting. So ladies, the men think you are having an orgasm when you really aren’t. Am I reading that correctly?”
Several female heads were nodding.
“Why is that? Hannah.”
“We fake it.”
Dr. Miller shook her head, “We fake it. That’s kind of sad. Why? Rich.”
“The woman doesn’t want to make us feel bad.”
“Yeah. Studies have shown that men’s egos are easily bruised when it comes to sex. Some women also want to boost their partner’s ego. Why else? Anne.”
“To get it over with.”
There was laughter around the room.
Dr. Miller continued, “You laugh, but I think Anne is not making that up.” Anne shook her head. “I think you will find that sometimes straight sex is not pleasant for many women, mostly because their male partner doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
“Anyone else? Roxane.”
“To avoid being shamed and being thought to be frigid.”
“That is a big one. By the way, no woman is frigid. That is a myth developed by men to compensate for their poor sexual performance. One last item. Sometimes a woman fakes an orgasm for non-sexual reasons such as trying to cement a relationship, become someone’s girlfriend or fiancée. Questions or comments?”
Dr. Miller looked around the room, “I find all this very interesting. Gentlemen, do you know how to tell if your partner is actually having an orgasm or faking it?”
I shook my head. I thought I knew, but now I had my doubts. I looked around and the other guys looked just as puzzled.
Dr. Miller said, “Don’t be embarrassed guys. You’ve taken the first step to becoming a much better lover. Carlos, are you ready?”
I just realized that there was a guy at the back of the room manning a film projector, “Yes, Dr. Miller.”
Female Orgasm Film
She pointed to a guy near the door, “Sam?” He nodded. “Yes, Sam. Can you hit the lights?”
Sam killed the lights and a film began to roll.
The title flashed up, “Orgasmic Response in Human Females.” The first scene had a bunch of co-eds walking and talking on a college campus somewhere. A female narrator said, “One of the most misunderstood aspects of human sexuality is the orgasmic response of human females. This film will briefly examine this topic.”
The scene changed to a couple making out. “It should be noted that approximately five to ten percent of women are incapable of having an orgasm. This is often due to some physical limitation.”
A graphic came up, “There are two types of female orgasm: vaginal and clitoral. The first, vaginal orgasm, is described by women as starting deeper in their body and elicits a full body response. These types of orgasms are caused by objects in the vagina stimulating the walls, Gräfenberg spot or G spot, and cervix.”
An anatomical diagram came up. “The G spot is located on the anterior wall of the vagina. When a woman is standing, it can be thought of as the upper side of the vagina.” A red arrow pointed to a spot on the diagram, “In its relaxed state, the G spot is smooth. As a woman becomes more aroused, it becomes wrinkled. The G spot is best stimulated digitally with one or two fingers using a ‘come hither’ motion.”
A photo of a woman’s vulva came on the screen, “Clitoral orgasms have a more localized reaction and are caused by stimulation of the clitoris and clitoral hood area.” Red arrows appeared on the screen, “Clitoral orgasms are more intense, but are shorter in duration than a vaginal orgasm.
"There are several signs that a woman is experiencing an orgasm. Please note that not all women display all these signs.”
A photo of a light skinned vulva was displayed, “First, blood will rush to a woman’s skin and in light skinned women, this will be seen as flushed skin. Blood will also rush to a woman’s clitoris, vulva, and vagina. Often the clitoris will become engorged with blood and may extend out of the clitoral hood.”
The screen shifted to a photo of a lovely pair of breasts with large, erect nipples, “Second, a woman’s nipples will be erect. Most women experience pleasure when their nipples are stimulated either orally or manually. Although not all women experience hard nipples during an orgasm, most do. Typically a woman’s nipples are hard, erect, and sensitive. In all cases, an orgasm will increase a woman’s heart rate. Often to between 160 and 210 beats per minute.
"Let’s observe an actual female orgasm. This will be a clitoral orgasm.”
The screen shifted to a camera angle that was directly between a young, naked woman’s legs. She had a nice bush, but her labia were shaved. The focus was on her vulva, but the rest of her body was visible in soft focus. She was small-breasted and had applied a small vibrator directly to her clit. Her vagina was slightly open and juices ran across her perineum.
“This woman’s orgasm is about to begin. I direct your attention to her vaginal opening, her anus, her nipples, and her face.”
The woman began panting, her eyes closed, and her mouth took on the classic O shape. Her pelvic muscles began rhythmically contracting and you could clearly see her vagina and anus pulsing out a steady rhythm. Her nipples were hard and she reached up and pulled hard on one of them.
“During her orgasm, all her focus is on the stimulation being directed to her clitoris. She is unaware that her breathing has increased and her eyes are closed. Most women are incapable of vocalizing anything during orgasm. It should be noted that after orgasm, a woman’s clitoris is very sensitive.”
“Now let’s observe a vaginal orgasm.”
Once again, the screen was filled with a woman’s vulva. Someone was fucking her with a smooth dildo. The angle was upward, striking the top of her vagina. She was rolling both her nipples.
“Once again, this woman’s orgasm is about to begin. Observe her vagina, nipples, and face.”
As the orgasm began, her eyes practically popped out of her head. She let out a long groan, mouth open. You could see her vagina contracting on the dildo. She came for probably about a half a minute. And then the film was over.
Dr. Miller said, “Sam, can you flip on the lights? So what did we observe? Dan.”
“In both cases, the woman’s vagina was contracting. On the first one, so was her anus.”
“Good observation. Actually, her anus was contracting on the second one, but your view was blocked. I don’t want to say every time since life has no absolutes, but in at least 999 times out of a thousand, the woman’s pelvic muscles will contract during orgasm. Those contractions affect both the vagina and the anus. What else? Sam.”
“Neither woman was talking or saying anything.”
“Let me ask one of our female colleagues why. Hannah.”
“Because you are completely focused on the pleasure. When you’re cumming, you don’t have to or want to say a thing.”
“Great point. A sure-fire way to know a woman is faking an orgasm is that she is very vocal. Some of you look surprised. Gents, how many of you say something when you’re ejaculating?” She looked around, “No one. Why is that? Dave.”
“My mind focuses on what’s happening with my cock.”
There was some laughter.
Dr. Miller said, “A little crude, but I like that term cock.” She said it again with emphasis, “Cock. What else did you observe about the orgasms? Brian.”
“Dr. Miller, with the second one, I think that was a dildo, the dildo was at a different angle like it was hitting the top of her vagina instead of going all the way in.”
“Excellent. The narrator mentioned something called the Gräfenberg spot or G spot. That is on the roof of the vagina and the dildo was striking it. Is anyone familiar with the g spot? Roxane.”
“My boyfriend took your class last semester. He loves to rub mine.”
“Who’s your boyfriend?”
“Andy.”
“I’m glad to hear my class has had a positive impact on your life.”
“Life changing Dr. Miller. Mind-blowing.”
Male Orgasm Film
Dr. Miller chuckled, “We’ll learn more about the g spot next class. Carlos, are you ready with the next film?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Sam, if you please.”
The lights went out and the screen lit up. “Orgasmic Response in Human Males”.
The screen was filled with four guys in athletic attire walking across a field. A man began narrating, “This film will examine the orgasmic response in human males. Ejaculation is often associated with orgasm in males. While these events often occur simultaneously, they are distinct and separate events. Orgasm is characterized by pelvic contractions, intense pleasure, and release. Ejaculation is the expulsion of semen from the penis. While rare, some men can experience non-ejaculatory orgasms.”
The screen was filled with side-by-side pictures of penises, one uncircumcised and the other circumcised. “While each penis is different, they come in two distinct varieties, circumcised and uncircumcised. A circumcised penis has had the foreskin surgically removed. The absence of the foreskin has no impact on a male’s ability to reach orgasm.”
There was a close-up of a penis head. “The glans is the most sensitive area.” A red arrow appeared, “The crown of the glans or the edge is filled with countless nerve endings.” Another arrow appeared, “The frenulum is another sensitive area.”
Now there was an anatomy diagram, “The prostate gland is another source of pleasure. It can be accessed directly through the anus or massaged by pressing on the perineum.”
“Let’s observe an ejaculatory orgasm brought on by masturbation.”
The screen was filled with a guy stroking his erection. He had his legs up so that his ass was visible. I was surprised that they selected a smaller than average cock. Then I remembered that this was an academic film and not pornography.
“This man has been manually stimulating his penis. His orgasm is about to begin. Observe the pelvic contractions seen at the base of his shaft and at the anus.”
Sure enough, there were the contractions and almost simultaneously he let loose a string of cum that shot out of the picture.
“Oh!” Several of my classmates responded.
Two more shots of lesser amounts came forth. He stopped stroking, “The penis becomes very sensitive after orgasm and often cannot be touched.”
The screen shifted to another erection. This time a man was prone with his feet either side of his ass, “This man has manually brought himself to the edge of orgasm. A partner will now digitally stimulate his prostate.”
The guy stopped stroking and what looked like a female hand probed his asshole. She slipped two lubed fingers in and began moving.
“The prostate is a walnut sized gland located on the anterior wall of the rectum. This man’s orgasm is about to begin. Once again, observe the contractions at the base of his penile shaft and anus.”
The contractions began and this time the guy shot his load onto his chest. Four shots total. I

Maiden Voyage: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 20 Mar 2026 16:07:03 +0000

A choice, a trap, and a necklace.
By HectorBidon. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The next morning’s sun found its way in through our porthole once again. We had sorted ourselves out somewhat during the night. I was on my side, tangled in a bit of sheet. She was on her side, tangled in a bit of blanket. I could just make out the pale tan lines on her bottom and her back.
We’d become cabin buddies of a different order. At the Jack-and-Ciara level. That’s probably what most people would have assumed all along, but I certainly hadn’t, and I didn’t think that she had either.
And yet, here we were.
I waited a while for her to wake up, but she didn’t. So I finally got up myself.
We’d just passed through the entrance in the seawall at Ensenada and were coming up to our docking site. The pilot, or maybe it was the captain himself, was standing on a little deck that jutted out from the side of the ship to joy-stick our massive vessel precisely up to the pier.
Molly was still in bed when I got back. She smiled and went to the bathroom, a little embarrassed to be still naked while I was already dressed. Her pubic hair, I noticed, was trim and attractive.
She came out wearing a towel and had her coffee. We checked the day’s schedule. She was delighted to discover that they’d transferred Mrs. Pendergast’s excursion ticket to me.
A little later that morning we went ashore. It was a strange sensation, stepping off the gangway into a foreign country. Somehow I expected every little thing to be different and exotic, but the first thing we encountered, sprouting up through a crack in the pavement, was a little tuft of grass. Nothing exotic at all, just plain old grass.
Our excursion van was heralded by a woman with a clipboard, a younger, more boisterous, Mexican Denise. There were three other couples in our group and a single unaccompanied woman about Ciara’s age. I took a seat next to the window with Molly beside me with the unaccompanied woman next to her. Her name was Meryl. This was her first real vacation since her divorce. She was really excited to be having such an adventure.
We drove through the streets of Ensenada, our guide giving us a bit of local color in her prettily accented English. The scene was at once familiar and strange: traffic and lane markings and stop lights just exactly like at home, but unintelligible store signs in unlikely colors painted directly on pastel stucco walls. Beyond the city were dusty, cactus-strewn hills not unlike the Catalina hinterland.
Our destination was a site called the Bufadora, a cleft in the rocky sea cliff where ocean waves sent up enormous geyser-like sprays. The sprays were so high that we got wet even at our vantage point fifty feet above the water.
The path back from the observation point was lined with gaudy souvenir shops, like the midway of a county fair. Meryl had tagged along with Molly and me. We stopped at one of the taco stands for lunch.
“So how did you guys meet?”
Molly didn’t volunteer an answer.
"Just here on the cruise, actually,“ I said.
"Really? See, aren’t cruises great?” Molly gushed.
After lunch we went into one of the souvenir shops and Meryl asked our opinion about all the little nick-nacks she wanted to buy. When we got back to the van, I ended up sitting in the middle.
“The nicest thing.” she said. “is that every day you make new friends.”
We drove back through town, then out into the desert in a different direction to a picturesque winery. We sat around a table on a palm-shaded patio and sampled the different vintages. Meryl chatted on about Simi Valley and the cruise and her ex and the weather and the ship and the people she’d met. She got me to go into the little gift shop with her to help pick out a couple bottles.
Molly was quiet at dinner. I had to remind her that we’d made plans to see the comedy show with Meryl.
“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” she said. “I think I’ll go back to the room.”
Meryl was waiting in the forward theatre. She was sorry to hear about Molly’s headache and put her hand on my arm to convey her concern. The show turned out to be pretty adult-rated, pretty raunchy in fact. Meryl yucked it up
After the show she suggested we take a spin about the deck. The ship had set sail again and we were just passing the exposed wreck that lies up against the sea wall. Somehow Meryl managed to tuck herself inside my arm.
“Wouldn’t you just love to go dancing?” she cooed.
“I, uh, Actually, I’ve kind of got to go now.”
“But the night is still young. Meryl rebutted. Let’s at least stop by my room first.”
“I’ve got to check on Molly.” I insisted
“We can open one of the tequilas.”
“Thanks, but,
"It’s just that, I was kind of hoping to get lucky tonight.”
Christ Almighty. A guy tries to be a gentleman. I didn’t need an etiquette book for this one. I finally managed to pry myself away,
When I got back to the room, Molly was in her pajamas, watching TV.
“Is your headache any better?” I asked.
She didn’t look up from the screen.
I sat on the chair and twisted around to see what she was watching. A travelogue of some sort.
“You didn’t miss much,” I said. “The show was kind of,”
But she leaned in closer to the screen to make it clear that I was interrupting her program. Something about the way the locals made their tortillas.
OK. I got the message. She didn’t like the fact that I’d gone to the show with Meryl. I went into the bathroom to pee. I’d only been trying to be polite to a fellow cruise member. Was that a crime? Molly had been there when we’d made the plans. I thought that she’d been trying to be friendly too. That we’d sort of taken Meryl under our wing.
I came out of the bathroom a minute later, and sat down on the chair again. The secret to the tortillas, apparently, had something to do with lime juice.
“I didn’t expect to see you back here tonight,” Molly said. In a sarcastic tone of voice. As if my presence was an imposition. As if she was sorry she’d ever offered to share the room in the first place.
I didn’t even bother to answer. I got undressed, then crawled up onto my side of the bed. Where else was I supposed to go? I got under the blanket and turned toward the bulkhead. A guy tries to be a gentleman. And this is what he gets.
I woke up first again, the next morning. I went up on deck. Did she really think that I’d found Meryl even the least bit attractive? She was a fellow shipmate, nothing more. I’d thought that we’d both been trying to be polite to her. Was that a crime?
I brought back coffee and a croissant, but Molly was still asleep. Or pretending to be. I banged around a little, but she didn’t budge. Finally I got fed up and left.
So here I was again, back to my usual routine, wandering down empty corridors, drifting up little-used gangways, poking around lonely corners where nobody else much ever cared to go. Doing what I probably would have been doing if I’d gotten my single in the first place.
I came back to the room around lunch time, but Molly wasn’t there. I wandered up to the pool. Denise was there, chatting with some people. She waved. Meryl was there, stalking about, but I managed to slip away before she saw me. But no Molly.
It was a long day. The ship had parked itself out in the middle of the ocean somewhere. Or maybe the rest of the world really had blown itself up and they just hadn’t told us. I eventually ended up back in the little coffee shop at the tail end of the ship. The sky seemed a lot flatter though, the seagulls a lot more listless, my algorithms a lot less interesting. Finally I got up again and trudged back down into the labyrinth.
The casino was practically empty. The lower piano bar was closed. The little art gallery was still showing the same old photographs.
The gift shop was open. The same lady was behind the counter. What was it that Molly had asked to see? A necklace. It must have been, that one. The lady brought it out. A pair of crystalline dolphins on a slender silver chain. They sparkled in the light.
Molly still wasn’t in the room when I got back. This time our towel had been folded into a seal, sunning itself on the bedspread. I moved it a little closer to her pillow and arranged the necklace around its neck.
There were still a couple hours until dinner. I thought it might be better if I wasn’t there when she got back.
I got to dinner right on time. It was our last night on board, and the dining room was even more boisterous than usual.
“Where’s Molly?” asked Ciara.
“She had a little headache. She might not be joining us.”
Valentin our waiter was really joshing it up, angling for a big end-of-trip tip. He was just taking the drink orders when Molly appeared. She was wearing a pink skirt, a whitish blouse,, and the necklace. Her eye caught mine as she made her way around the table, but quickly shot away again.
Ciara asked her how she was doing. The couple on my other side were there for once. Tom and somebody. He was in air conditioning and gave me the full rundown. It was too noisy for Molly and me to talk, but every time I looked, she was still wearing the necklace.
It being our last night, the waiters were going to put on a little show. Just after they passed out the dessert plates they went into a huddle near the service entrance. Molly leaned over.
“Do you want to go back to the room?”
We got up.
“Oh, are you guys going to the revue?” asked Ciara.
Molly replied in the louder voice you had to use to make yourself heard. But the room was beginning to quiet down in a hush, as the waiters were taking their places, and so the whole table heard what she said.
“Make-up sex.”
The table burst into laughter. Molly continued her way out of the room, and I just followed sheepishly behind her.
“Can you forgive me?” she asked as we got out into the hallway.
“For letting everybody know where we’re going?”
“For last night. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. It was my fault. It was all my fault.”
“The worst part is, we wasted a whole day,” I remorsed.
“We still have tonight.” She tried to assure me.
“Yeah. We still have tonight.” I agreed.
As soon as we got into the room we fell into each other’s arms.
“I love the necklace,” she murmured.
“It looks really nice on you.”
We kissed and shuffled toward the bed.
But my blood was pumping. I was thinking about our wasted day.
“Let’s do something first, want to? I pleaded. It’s our last night. Let’s get our money’s worth. Let’s go to the show! Let’s go dancing! Let’s shoot for that royal flush! The bed will still be here when we get back. But let’s make up for some of the things we didn’t do today. Let’s paint the ship red. Okay? Want to? C'mon! Hup hup!”
Jack and Ciara were surprised to see us at the theatre.
“That was quick,” Ciara said with a look of astonishment.
Molly blushed. I put my arm around her and pulled her tight. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
The review was Motown classics, the Supremes, the Four Tops. “You can’t hurry love, no you’ll just have to wait, The whole auditorium was singing along. The girls pulled Jack and me up from our seats to dance in the aisle. "Sugar pie, honeybunch, you know that I love you,
Afterwards, the night was balmy, perfect for a stroll on deck. We could see lights off in the distance, the rest of the world was still there after all! We ran into Meryl, wrapped in the arm of a dapper, middle-aged gentleman whose smile was just as smug as hers was. We exchanged pleasantries. She gave us both a little wink.
Molly, perhaps I m clueless. Did you have any idea that Meryl was going to try to hit on me? I had to ask.
Oh, my God! Molly stared at me. All day long, she was angling for you. I thought you were trying for a threesome, and my fake headache was me forcing you to choose one or the other.
What? I thought you and I were just trying to be hospitable; you know, so she d have some friends to socialize with.
Well, Molly confessed. I finally figured out that you were completely innocent, but it took me until late afternoon to dispel my worst presumptions.
I went to the show, because we told her we d both join her, there. I explained. When you were bedridden with a headache, I assumed it fell on me to go alone, even though I really didn t want to be away from you.
Ah, really? That s so sweet! Molly gushed. She gave me a deep kiss right there on the mezzanine. I assumed you went because you wanted another notch on your belt. I m so, so sorry.
Well, when the performance ended, I said I had to head back to you. She did try every diversion. I passed on all of them. Then she flatly told me she was hoping to get lucky with me. I told her I definitely could not accommodate that, and I walked straight back to our room.
Oh, I was awful to you! Molly lamented. But I was also right about that slut s intentions, wasn t I? Molly paused, then added; When I finally got over my inner rage, I realized that you didn t come back smelling like cunt. Hell, you didn t even have lipstick smeared on your face. This afternoon, I finally left my hiding spot, and saw you were heading to dinner, I went to the cabin and saw this beautiful necklace. I literally cried. I don t deserve you. You don t deserve my juvenile drama. I d planned to skip the dinner, but when I saw the dolphin necklace, I had to come and grovel your forgiveness.
You know, Molly I paused. Perhaps I was too clueless, yesterday. Perhaps you were too presuming? Do you think we can both help to balance each other?
Oh, I love that! Yes, let s balance each other.
The nightclubs were hopping. We wound our way from one to the other, dancing one dance in each. But then we decided to forgo the casino and just head back to the cabin. And sure enough, the bed was still there, right where we’d left it.
We kissed. I ran my hands up along her sides, up inside her blouse. She undid my buttons and pulled open my shirt. I fiddled with her skirt and managed to slip it down over the swell of her hips. She unfastened my belt buckle and my button and my zipper. I slid my hands down inside her panties. She slid hers down inside my underpants. We pawed and shucked and kicked off everything that remained. And then she took off the very last thing that she was wearing, the crystalline necklace, and placed it carefully on the nightstand.
I backed her down onto the bed. I kissed the pretty spot where the necklace had been, and the spot next to that, and the spot next to that. She lay back and closed her eyes and let herself be kissed.
I settled myself down on top of her, stroking her full lovely body with my own, savoring her softness and her excitement, trying to fuse our unfortunate separateness into something more fulfilling. And somehow, in the midst of our kissing and our stroking, my penis must have slid up at just the right angle, and her hips must have been open to just the right degree, and we coupled, as adroitly as if that had been our conscious intention, as naturally as if we were two jungle cats whose lithe jungle bodies just instinctively knew how to fuck.
And somewhere in the midst of our coupling we sweetly came, but it was not so much a climax as just a sweet vista point along the way. For just as we hadn’t consciously willed our engagement, neither did we ever willfully disengage, but just eventually nestled more comfortably down beside each other, still caressing, still softly kissing, still sweetly fused.
The loudspeaker blasted us awake early the next morning. Our luggage needed to be out in the hallway for pickup by eight o'clock sharp!
Molly wriggled a bit deeper under the blanket. "Uh,” she groaned. “Just five more minutes.”
I remembered the look on her face, when had it been? just four days ago, when we first learned we might have to share the cabin together. She’d been just as uncertain as I had. But now it was hard to imagine any other arrangement. Her lying in bed beside me, trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of sleep, leaving it up to me to keep track of the time, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
We hadn’t begun to pack yet, but we’d kept things fairly organized. I gave her a generous five minutes, and then I gave her a little nudge. “C'mon, sleepyhead. Up and at um.”
She groaned, but she dragged herself out of bed. We were both still naked. I slipped on a pair of boxers, and she put on a T-shirt. It rode up in back, though, so that her pretty bottom kept peeking out as she went around collecting her things and tucking them into her suitcase.
“Do you kinda wish that the rest of the world really had blown itself up?” I asked.
She was folding one of her bras. “Oh, I don’t know. We’d probably get tired of eating cheesecake eventually.”
“They’d run out. Then we’d have to eat whatever it is that Valentin eats.”
“He gets cheesecake sometimes, don’t you think? When they have some left over?”
“I don’t know. He’s pretty skinny.”
“I wonder why Meryl didn’t think of him.”
“Yeah. Good question. Wrong table, I suppose.”
“I suppose.”
I crammed my sports coat in between my shirts and my underwear bag. She gave the zipper of her suitcase a final tug. “Besides,” she said. “Your algorithms would miss you.”
I slipped on my trousers and rolled the bags out into the corridor. There were a surprising number of people walking by, and every single one of them gawked into the room as they passed. Nothing is more titillating to a person walking down a stateroom corridor than an open doorway.
When I got the door closed again, Molly was sitting up on the bed with the sheet pulled up in front of her and a rather indignant look on her face. What a lot of nerve some people had!
I couldn’t help but smile. “I wonder what they thought you were hiding back there.”
She rolled her eyebrows.
But I was feeling a little playful. The final day’s schedule was lying on the floor. I picked it up and pretended it was an official form.
“Customs inspection, Miss, May I see what you’ve got behind that sheet?”
She wasn’t so sure she wanted to show me. She coyly raised the sheet a little higher.
“That shirt you’re wearing, Miss. Did you purchase it abroad?”
She looked down behind the sheet. This old thing?.
“Regulations, Miss; It may contain contraband fibers.” I held out my hand. “May I see it please?”
She huffed. Bureaucrats! Without letting go of the sheet she wriggled one arm out of its sleeve and then the ot

Maiden Voyage: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 19 Mar 2026 16:03:44 +0000

Strangers forced to share a cabin on a cruise ship.
By HectorBidon. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.
The waiting area outside the Long Beach cruise terminal was abuzz with bright new outfits and happy chatter. It was enough to make even the most reserved introvert start to feel a bit of excitement.
I was standing with Jack and Ciara, two regulars of the social group. Jack was tall and rugged, something to do with landscaping; Ciara tall and willowy, worked in an office of some sort. They weren’t an official couple, as far as I knew, but they seemed to have hooked up for the New Year s Pacific cruise. That was sort of the way the group worked. Thirty somethings, mostly divorced, intent on maintaining the hard playing lifestyle of their twenties, looking for like-minded dating partners to do it with.
Jack was explaining the different cruise drink payment plans. I smiled politely and nodded, thinking how different from theirs my life would be when I got to be their age.
Denise bustled up in a pretty pastel pantsuit with her clipboard in her hand. She was a travel agent and the mother hen of the group, forty-something and no longer trying so hard to pretend she was any younger. She d put together this group and made a nice extra income for her troubles.
“Hector,” she said, ushering me a step aside, “I’m afraid there’s been a mix up with your reservation. Somehow your single cabin didn’t show up on the final printout.” She gave me a concerned look. “They’re working on it,, but we may have to double you up with someone.”
This came as a bit of a rude surprise. One of the only reasons I’d finally agreed to come on the cruise in the first place had been her assurance that I’d be able to have a single. It wasn’t that I was antisocial really, but I had my limits.
“You know Mrs. Pendergast, don’t you?”
Mrs. Pendergast was an older woman, well into her sixties. She wasn’t a regular member of the group, but it amused her sometimes to hang with a younger crowd. The group let her tag along to some of their events. I was going to have to share a room with Mrs. Pendergast?
“Apparently she got sick and had to cancel at the last minute. So we have an opening. She was sharing a room with, ah;” she double checked her forms; “a Ms. Crenshaw. I don’t know her, but I’m sure she’s very nice. It’s a double room, and you know how it is on a cruise. You don’t spend that much time in your room anyway.”
I didn’t even try to return her smile.
“They’re still working on your single, of course. I just wanted to let you know the fallback plan.”
Not only losing my single, but having to spend the cruise being polite to an old lady? In Denise’s mind, that was what the social group was all about.
People were already starting to go into the terminal building when Denise came back, this time with an attractive young woman at her side. I wondered if it was Denise’s daughter, there to see us off.
“Hector,” she said, peering at me over the top of her glasses, “this is Molly Crenshaw. I’ve been explaining our predicament.”
The girl gave me a weak smile. She was pretty, with long brown hair swept back, wearing white shorts and a light blue top. She didn’t look like she could be a day over twenty-one. Not at all what I had pictured as a travelling companion for Mrs. Pendergast.
“It’s a double room,” Denise was explaining. “I’m sure they’ll be able to rig up a partition if need be. But this will be the first cruise for both of you. It will be nice to have a buddy to help you find your way around. I’m sure the two of you will hit it off.”
Molly was still looking at me rather uncertainly. This apparently wasn’t exactly what she had signed up for, either. She looked back at Denise. “Well, if his other room got cancelled,
Denise was delighted. The registration mix-up had been solved in an efficient and social-group-positive way. I couldn’t believe she was being so cavalier about putting a guy and a girl who didn’t even know each other into the same room together.
"They’re still working on my single though, right?”
“As far as I know. You’ll be able to check with the Bursar once we get on board.”
Denise had more than enough smile for the three of us. They called our area for boarding.
“See you on board,” she said, bustling off with her clipboard.
Going up the gangway onto the ship itself kind of blew me away. You entered onto the mezzanine level of what looked like the fanciest mall I’d ever seen. There was an atrium that rose several stories high with glass elevators gliding up and down and fancy shops and glittering lights on every different level. On the floor below us a fellow in a tuxedo was playing a grand piano. All of this right in the middle of the ship. Molly’s eyes were as wide as mine.
They’d told us to have lunch while the luggage was being brought on. Molly and I had come aboard with a bunch of other social groupers, but they’d all buzzed off one way or another leaving the two of us by ourselves. We found a little sandwich and salad buffet.
“So, your first cruise?” I asked. I was pretty sure I’d be able to get the room situation straightened out, but there was no harm in being polite.
She assembled a forkful of salad. “Yes, Mrs. Pendergast is a patient at the clinic where I work. She’s pretty chatty, you know. She kept talking about this fantastic cruise she was going on. But she needed a travelling companion to come along and sort of look after her.” She shrugged. “ Mrs. Pendergast offered to cover the cost, if I d come with. I don’t know, she has a way of getting what she wants.”
“Is she all right?” I asked.
“Denise says she’s afraid she might be coming down with something. She’s a bit of a hypochondriac. But the tickets are already paid for, and I’m already here, so Denise said I should just come along on the cruise without her.” She gave her little shrug again and took a sip of iced tea. “Your first cruise too?”
“I’m not really a member of the social group, actually. I went on a nature hike with them one time and ended up on Denise’s list. So now she sends me emails every time she has some big event. She was kind of persistent this time. I think they needed to sign up a certain number of people in order to get a discount or something.”
Molly nodded and stabbed a crouton. “Well, it is a cruise. It should be fun. And it’ll be nice not to have to keep tabs on Mrs. Pendergast all the time. There’s gambling, you know. When we get far enough out to sea.”
“You gamble?”
“Of course. Poker, black jack. Machines mostly, but sometimes at the tables. I have a system. It’s a lot of fun.”
After lunch I asked my way up to the Bursar’s office. Molly came along to make sure that everything worked out. The Bursar looked me up in his computer. Apparently, when Mrs. Pendergast had cancelled, they’d looked to fill the vacancy with someone from our same group. I was the only one in a single, so they moved me in to fill her spot and gave my room to someone else. He double checked, but there weren’t any other singles available. He apologized for the inconvenience and gave me my key card.
I was flabbergasted.
“Well,” said Molly, “we might as well go check it out at least.”
We found our way down to the deck where the cabin was located. The room itself was not much bigger than a walk-in closet. A chair, a little night stand, a mirror on the bathroom door, a bed against the wall. That was it. We looked at each other.
“Kind of smaller than I would have thought,” I said.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
I corralled a passing steward.
“Um, we were supposed to be getting a double room?” I showed him the printout.
“Yes, yes,” he said in his helpful foreign accent. “Very nice double cabin.”
“But there’s only one bed.” I said.
“Double bed,” he explained. Then he gestured toward the porthole on the wall. “Ocean view!” He smiled, happy to have been of service, and went on about his way.
Molly didn’t look altogether convinced.
I sighed. “Let me go talk to the Bursar again,
But she was sizing things up. Sunshine was streaming in through the porthole. Our two suitcases had been placed in a little niche beside the bathroom door, side by side.
"All the other rooms are probably just as small,” she said. “On this level anyway. And they seem to have already given your other room away.” She looked at me. “Do you snore?”
It wasn’t a question I was expecting. “I don’t think so. No one’s ever complained.”
“Well, Mrs. Pendergast does, apparently. That’s the one thing I’ve been dreading the most.” She looked back at the room. “I guess this is just what double rooms are like on cruise ships. Maybe it’s not so bad. At least you don’t snore. We’re kind of on an adventure anyway. Maybe we should just try and make the best of it.”
She made it sound as if sharing a room with a complete stranger of the opposite sex was no bigger a deal than sharing a table with him at lunch. She sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the schedule of the day’s activities as if the issue had already been decided.
“Shuffleboard lessons at three o'clock,” she noted. “Bingo at four thirty.”
I sat down on the chair. So instead of getting a room of my own I was going to have to share this one? Surely there must be some other alternative. What if, what if I asked Denise to ask Ciara to move in here with Molly and let me bunk with Jack? Ugh! I cringed at the thought.
“A magic show tonight in the forward theatre.” Molly announced; reading more literature.
I looked around. How would it even work? The room was so tiny. There was only the one bed.
Molly was studying a map of the ship. “What do you think we should do first?” She’d not only accepted the fact that we’d be rooming together, she was ready to head out and start exploring.
“Um, why don’t you just go ahead on your own? I’ve still got a couple things I need to take care of first.”
I couldn’t tell if she was a bit hurt that I didn’t want to join her. But she shrugged it off. “Well, OK. Then I guess we can just meet back up here later.”
I didn’t really have anything I needed to take care of, I just wanted a little time to sort things out. I was pretty bummed that they’d given away my single. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about Molly’s matter-of-fact-ness. Was she really so used to sharing rooms with random guys?
Still, if I did have to share a room with someone, Molly was probably no more objectionable than Jack or Mrs. Pendergast. She was more my age. She was just out of college and I had a few years on her. She seemed pretty easy going. If we’d been thrown together as partners at a workshop breakout session, I wouldn’t have objected.
But sharing insights at a breakout session wasn’t exactly the same as sharing a cabin on a cruise ship. I’d had to share rooms with strangers before, but they’d always been guys. What you did was you put on your blinders, you put up your shields, you went about your business, you let them go about theirs. You tried to be polite. At least that’s the way it worked with guys. Did it work that way with girls too?
I guess I’d find out.
The ship must have cast off soon after we came on board, but so smoothly that we hadn’t even noticed. By the time I found my way up on deck we’d already cleared the harbor and were quite a ways out from land. I stood at the railing and watched the waves roll by. I wondered whether I might get seasick, but the deck was as firm and steady as any sidewalk on the mainland.
The ship turned out to be a whole little city unto itself. There was a miniature golf course at one end and a climbing wall at the other. The top deck held two full-sized swimming pools, each already surrounded by sun bathers glistening in cocoa butter. The lower decks held lounges and theaters and eateries and nightclubs. There were shops and kiosks on every level; a sports bar, a wine bar, two piano bars, a margarita bar (“Hi, Jack! Hi, Ciara!”); and any number of different ways to get from any one place to any other: by stairs, by elevator, by main passageway, by side passageway.
Later in the afternoon I sat down at a little coffee shop toward the stern of the ship and nursed a cup of lapsang souchong. Seagulls were gliding along in our tailwind. I’d been making good progress on a couple algorithms at work, and I went over some of the key steps in my mind. It was nice being out of the cubicle for a change, sitting in the sunshine, daydreaming instead of coding, watching the seagulls hover and veer.
My thoughts eventually wandered back to my room situation. I still couldn’t understand why Molly was being so agreeable about sharing the cabin. It dawned on me that maybe she didn’t think she had any other choice. Maybe she thought that since she was only here as Mrs. Pendergast’s guest, she had to do whatever Denise asked.
And so maybe she wasn’t really all that used to sharing rooms with random guys either. Maybe she was just doing what she thought was expected. A fellow shipmate, a sort-of member of the same social group she was sort of a member of, needed a place to bunk. She had an empty spot. Didn’t shipboard etiquette kind of dictate that she offer to share? But then, by the same token, what did shipboard etiquette expect of me?
I finished my tea and ambled back toward the front of the ship. A raucous game of volleyball was taking place in one of the pools. Someone called my name.
“Are you going back to the room? I forgot my card.”
It was Molly. She gave her little shrug. She was wearing a bright yellow bikini. It was fairly conservative, the kind she could wear to the gym, but it called your attention to her shapely legs and her slender tummy. We made our way down the labyrinth of passageways toward our lower deck. The people we passed would have naturally assumed that we were together.
“I figured out about dinner,” she said. “Everybody has an assigned time and an assigned table. Ours is in about an hour. We can go together if you want.”
After a couple of wrong turns we finally found our corridor and our little room. It hadn’t gotten any bigger in the time we’d been away. But there was a fresh bath towel sitting on the bed, folded into a sort of soft-origami swan.
“Look how cute,” Molly said. “The housekeepers must have been in.”
She put her things on the nightstand and fiddled in her suitcase for some clothes. “I’m just going to take a quick shower first.” She went into the bathroom, taking the swan along with her. I sat on the foot of the bed and took a look at the schedule. The walls were thin enough that I could hear the water splashing.
She came out wrapped in the towel. “It’s too cramped to get dressed in there,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. She looked around the room, a bit awkwardly.
So this was one of the guys-and-girls-sharing-a-cabin rules that I wasn’t really familiar with. What was I supposed to do while she got dressed? Step into the bathroom to give her some privacy? Or just ignore her, the way I would if I was sharing the room with a guy?
She wasn’t completely sure how to play it either. She turned to face the mirror, but that only put her sideways to me. So she turned all the way around, facing the outer door. She tried to give the impression that changing clothes in front of a cabin mate wasn’t that big a deal. So I tried to follow her lead.
I didn’t stare, and she had her back to me, but it was hard not to notice what she was doing. She started by putting on her bra, but as she was pulling it up, her towel slipped, revealing the two round, pretty cheeks of her bottom. She quickly pulled the towel back into place, and I quickly forced my eyes back to the schedule. So it was only with my peripheral vision that I was able to see her stepping into her panties and skirt and buttoning up her blouse.
Finally she sat on the chair to fasten her sandals. Our eyes met again. She sighed, then admitted. “I work in a clinic. I often have to help clients get over themselves, when they have to disrobe for an exam, in front of someone they don t know. I think I have better empathy, now. Oh, Dinner is supposed to be smart casual.” she remarked.
I took that to mean that my polo shirt didn’t quite cut it. I’d brought a couple button-down shirts, and so I went over and got one from my suitcase. She nodded approvingly and turned to the mirror, fiddling with her hair. I took off my polo shirt and put on the button one.
The dining room was immense, with big round tables like in a reception hall. Molly and I were assigned to a table with some of the other people from our group. I let Molly sit next to Ciara. There was nobody on my other side, which was fine with me. Molly and Ciara found some girl stuff to talk about. The general conversation at the table seemed to be about motorcycles. Denise stopped by to see how everyone was doing.
Molly had the chicken and I had the fish. We resisted the hard liquor, but we both had a glass of wine with our meal. Valentin, our engaging Bulgarian waiter, brought us the chit. We had both just assumed that wine was included in the meal, but he explained that it would be added to our room bill.
“Will they charge it to Mrs. Pendergast?” Molly whispered, afraid they might.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered back, signing for both of us.
The magic show didn’t start until eight o'clock, so after dinner Molly suggested we just wander around. She showed me the little art gallery she’d discovered on deck six where it met the central atrium. Photographs of interesting doorways on old, rustic buildings. Just past the art gallery was a little gift shop. We went in, and Molly looked at the jewelry counter. She asked the lady to bring out a necklace that caught her eye. I leafed through the post cards, but I didn’t really have anyone to send one to.
We still had forty-five minutes until the show, so I took Molly up to the miniature golf course. We didn’t bother keeping score. I made a couple lucky shots. Then, on the next-to-the-last hole, Molly’s shot went wild and bounced onto the next green over. It ricocheted off a bumper and coasted down, curving gently, right into the cup. A perfect hole in one into the wrong hole!
“Whoa!” I said. “Remind me never to play you for money.”
She raised her putter and blew on the end as if it were a smoking rifle barrel. “You should see me at pinball.”
The mag

Mrs. Claus Cookie Therapy: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 16:07:34 +0000

Nancy Pledges her passionate best for Mike.
Based on a post by m storyman x, in 2 parts.
Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.
I sat on the sofa staring out the back window and across the yard, wondering what they were talking about. A few minutes turned into half an hour, which turned into almost an hour. My curiosity finally got the best of me and I snuck down the hall as quietly as I could. I stopped at the door and listened, hoping to hear their conversation. But conversation was not what I heard. What I heard was soft gentle moaning. Two different sounds of moaning. I shook my head in confusion and pushed the door open silently, moving it ever so slowly so that the hinge, which occasionally squeaks, wouldn’t. I peeked around the door to the bed and stood there, staring.
No wonder I didn’t hear them talking. Linda was laying on the bed, as naked as she had been in the kitchen, with her feet on my pillow, her knees pushed wide. My wife on top, held herself on her hands and knees, equally naked, with her head between Linda’s legs, licking her cunt, while moaning in pleasure at Linda’s attentions to hers.
I stepped into the room and neither seemed to notice me at all. I watched the two of them making out, licking each other, driving the other toward climax. Was this why Nancy wasn’t interested in sex with me any longer? Was she getting it from Linda instead? I hadn’t ever known her to be interested in other women, at least not in that way. But it was hard to deny what I was seeing. It didn’t take my body long to respond to what I was seeing, my cock soon standing hard and rigid. Pointing up over the horizon, like an artillery cannon barrel.
No, if she was getting it from Linda, I was damn well going to make sure she understood what she was giving up. I stepped to the end of the bed, looking at my wife’s ass and cunt, held in the air by her knees, while Linda licked and played with her swollen clit. Linda saw me and smiled. She moved her hand from my wife’s ass and reached for my cock. She pulled me in toward her, pulling my engorged head toward both her mouth and my wife’s cunt. She aimed me right to my wife’s sopping wet lips and then used her other hand to reach around my ass and coaxed me into the ‘docking portal’. She’d stopped licking my wife and rubbed my engorged head up and down Nancy’s slit, wetting my mushroom with my wife’s juices.
I reached for my wife’s hips, making her jump slightly as she felt my big firm hands on her. She stiffened, almost as if she were going to refuse me, and then her stiffness faded as Linda rubbed my head around her lips a little harder, working it between her lips and into the entrance of her depths. My wife wiggled her hips side to side, much like she used to when she was inviting me to fuck her hot hole. I pushed toward her, forcing my engorged head slowly into her, spreading her hot wet vagina as I slipped ever so slowly into her.
“Oh, fuck yes.” Nancy moaned as I pushed my way deeper into her. “That’s it honey. Fuck me. Make me come around your fat cock!” She lowered her head to Linda’s cunt again and I heard her muffled moan as I started to stroke slowly in and out of her.
Every stroke brought my balls across Linda’s face, slapping her eyebrows slightly. In and out I started to thrust, my cock stroking its full length in and out of her. Linda wrapped her left hand around my ass cheek and hooked her other hand around Nancy’s thigh. Linda was now conducting the symphony movement of our love anthem. Linda’s middle finger pressed my anus tightly and eventually entered just inside my sphincter.
I felt Nancy’s already excited cunt start to spasm when I’d barely started stroking, Linda having apparently gotten her already very close to climax. I knew I was still quite a ways from my own climax as I held her hips and kept thrusting, pushing in and out so that my cock teased her insides from the entrance all the way to the end of her tunnel.
Nancy always said that my thick shaft felt so much bigger when I fucked her from behind. I wanted her to enjoy it. I wanted her to feel my cock making her climax. I wanted her to remember how good it felt that first time, that time laying on the picnic table, feeling a cock slide into her for the first time. I wanted her to enjoy it like she did then, coming so hard to my stroking cock that her body surprised both of us and pumped her juices out all over my stomach and crotch. I wanted her to climax that hard again.
“Oh fuck!” she squeaked as she pulled her face from Linda’s cunt. “Oh fuck me, lover. God you feel so good. Come for me. Fill me up with your cum. Oh God! Yes! That’s it. Fuck me!” She hadn’t been all that vocal for years, and hearing her talk like a vulgar whore, begging me to fuck and fill her; pushed all the right buttons at the right time. While my mind was still imagining that it was that first time again, feeling her for the first time, I held her hips and drove harder into her, rocking the entire bed as I pumped in and out of her with abandon.
My body raced toward climax as I thrust myself deep into my wife, a feeling of elation and desire all mixed together running through my body. I was so close, I wanted to come, I wanted to fill her cunt with my cum, I wanted her to keep climaxing as long as I could make her. I kept thrusting, trying to keep holding her climax at its peak as long as I could. I felt a hand on my ass, moving with me, coaxing me harder into my wife.
I looked down past my thrusting cock at Linda’s face, grinning up at me, waiting, coaxing. In a moment of clear realization I knew what she wanted.
“Oh Fuck!” I grunted loudly as my body spasmed. I could feel my cock pumping shot after shot of cum into my wife’s spasming cunt, filling her, feeling her climax still squeezing and milking me, like I hadn’t felt for oh so many years. I stood there, my knees leaning against the mattress, panting, listening to my wife moan and pant herself, my cum still leaking into her as my cock twitched occasionally.
“Oh God, yes. So good.” She moaned softly, laying her head between Linda’s legs again, but not to lick her any longer. Linda released her hold on my ass and instead hooked her index finger around the base of my cock. She coaxed me back, backing me out of my wife slowly. My now softening tallywhacker slipped from Nancy’s reddened, swollen cunt lips, and dropped onto Linda’s face.
Linda tiled her head back and opened her mouth. I slid inside Linda’s waiting mouth and she sucked my shrinking cock for only a few seconds before gently pushing me further back. I knew why, though I was surprised that she’d want to.
I stood, my cock almost dripping the remaining cum in Linda’s face, holding my wife’s ass cheeks for balance. I watched Linda lick the cum oozing from my wife’s gaping cunt, my white cream leaking from her and dripping down off her twat lips into Linda’s mouth.
“Tastes just like that cookie.” Linda moaned softly. “I swear that was cum flavored icing.”
“I kinda thought it tasted like Nancy’s cunt.” I panted as I moved onto the bed and flopped onto my back, momentarily exhausted.
I lay there, trying to catch my breath, listening to Linda lick my wife, sending occasional shudders through her body. Nancy finally had all she could take and shifted off Linda and over onto me, laying down on me. She lay flat on me, her tits smashed to my chest, her face inches from mine. Without a word she lowered her lips to mine and kissed me. Hesitantly at first, and then with growing urgency. She held my face and kissed and sucked my lips, almost as if she were afraid I was going to not be there.
Linda rolled onto her side, facing away from us, then resumed her own masterbations, stroking her cunt with two fingers, while her other hand fondled her aroused nipples. Linda was a moaner.
Finally, after what had to be at least five minutes, both Nancy and I panting breathlessly, she softened and then stopped her kisses. “I’m sorry love.” She whispered into my ear as she laid her cheek beside mine.
“For what?” I whispered back.
“For not realizing what I was doing to you. For almost losing you. I never meant for it to happen. I should have known. I should have heard you. You said it, I know you did. Even Linda heard you. But I was too busy with my own feelings that I didn’t listen to you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to have to find it someplace else. I don’t want you to walk out of my life. I don’t want anyone but you, but I have to, I need to, I, I.”
“Shush.” I whispered, pressing her chest into me, holding her face next to mine. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re the love of my life. Why would I leave you?”
“Because I forgot. I forgot how it was. I laid here, crying, feeling sorry for myself that Linda could coax you into sex so easily. I thought that you didn’t care anymore or want me anymore. But she told me. She said she’s seen me reject your advances too many times, that you had to think that I didn’t want you anymore. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It’s just, It’s. I don’t know how to explain. But I was wrong. I should have listened. I should have seen the signs. Please don’t leave me.” She practically begged me before she started crying, her tears running down her face and my cheek as well, where we were pressed together.
“I’m not leaving. Shish. I’m still here,” I whispered back, stroking her back and ass.
“Promise?”
“Oh lover. You know I can’t live without you.”
“I used to think that. I used to think that I never had to worry. I used to think you were mine forever, and, well, I watched you pleasuring her, right there, right in front of me, right in our own kitchen. I, I was scared. I was afraid that I was going to lose you. I was mad. I was mad at you, I was mad at Linda.”
“I was actually mad at myself. Mostly now at myself. You did what I pushed you to. You did it because I ignore you. I don’t do what we used to do.”
“I don’t understand. What we used to do?”
“When we were first together. I worked so hard to give you everything you desired. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to love me. I wanted you to want me, to desire to be with me. I knew that sexual contentment was a big part of that. I knew that if I didn’t make you feel happy that way, that there’d be no chance of lasting love. Guys need that. They need sex. They need it to feel complete. I forgot that. I forgot because I had your love and I forgot that I needed to return it the way you needed it, not the way I felt like giving it. My empathy failed.”
"I don’t understand, Nancy. When we were first together, you were playful, you loved doing all those things, all those ways, all those places. You didn’t like it? You were just, what, faking enjoying it?” I asked with concern and no small amount of hurt welling up in my heart. Had our whole relationship been based on a lie?
She rolled off of me, onto her back, next to me. “I didn’t not enjoy it, but I wouldn’t have chosen to do it by myself if you hadn’t asked me to.”
“Then why didn’t you say no?” I rolled on my side to look at her face.
“I never wanted to say no. I thought it was what was expected. That guys had sex that way. I wanted to be wanted, so I focused on meeting your desires. But I lost that, over the years.”
“I’m confused. You had to know not all guys did all that. I mean, I loved what we did. I loved the variety and the newness of every time we did it someplace different, or in a different way, or whatever. But if you didn’t want to, you had to know it wasn’t required.”
“Wasn’t it? What has been your complaint for the last twenty years? That we never do anything like that anymore. Kinda sounds required to me.”
I rolled facing Nancy; Linda still in her own world, at the foot of the big bed. Nancy rolled onto her side and rested her head so our noses nearly touched, stroking her fingers on my chest. “I’d have never made you do anything you didn’t want to. Not if I knew. Now you’re telling me everything that we did was faked?”
“Not faked. Just not, always my choice.” She whispered. “The guy I was with, before you. He was, well, he didn’t believe in sex before marriage, so we didn’t. Not at all. He never even tried to take my bra off or pull down my pants or anything. So, when I started dating you, I did what you wanted, just like I did what he wanted.”
“Why did you leave him?”
“After two years, I needed more. I needed that physical relationship. I wanted intimacy, and he didn’t seem any closer to asking me to marry him than when we started dating. So, I moved on, or at least I was planning on it. The day you spilled coke all over me? I was out with my best friends, they were trying to convince me that it was time to move on and find someone different. Someone that could make me feel completely different than Jerry did.”
“And me dumping a whole cup of soda pop down your shirt was definitely different.”
“It wasn’t that. It was how incredibly cute you were, trying to apologize. Three times you almost rubbed your hand down my boobs to wipe the soda that was soaking in, off. I suddenly wanted to feel your hands on me. I wanted to see what it felt like to be physically loved.”
“ If you hadn’t asked me to get undressed for you in that park that one night, there wouldn’t be another date. I wasn’t going to go through that again. I could tell you were nervous. I was too. But I wanted to feel your hands on me, and once I did, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted you to touch me and stroke me and make love to me as many times as you wanted. When I realized you liked being teased, liked seeing me in sexy little things, liked it when I played with you in public places, liked it when I let you play with me in those places, well, those are the things I did. I didn’t not like them, but if I had been choosing, I wouldn’t have done a lot of them. Doctor Ruth said a woman can only keep a man if she keeps him satisfied. So I was committed to keeping you satisfied. At least I used to” Nancy was starting to cry again.
“After the girls were born, you kinda stopped wanting sex. Why? What did I do wrong?” I wanted to know.
“You did nothing wrong. I just didn’t feel like I could do those kinds of things anymore. I didn’t want the girls to get the idea that doing that kind of thing was how you got a man. I know. That’s how I got you. But after a few years I just stopped trying to please you that way. I convinced myself you didn’t seem to need it any more, that you knew how I loved you, even if I didn’t show it physically. I forgot that was how you felt loved. I forgot that all the things that you did that made me feel loved, weren’t the things that made you feel loved. Linda reminded me of that. Seeing you kneeling in front of her, licking her, teasing her cunt, making her climax. It made me realize that I’d messed up. I’d failed to do what a wife should be doing, making her man feel loved and cared for. I suddenly realized that Linda had so easily taken over what had been only mine for so long. Linda hasn’t had a man for years, but she wishes that she did.”
“If that’s true, why the hell were you two women having sex?”
“That’s easy.” Linda said from where she was still laying, now listening to us. “We wanted to. While we were talking we had an overwhelming urge to kiss, which led to touching, which lead to, well you know.” Then Linda added; “You’re the one with the cookie, Mike. Like the serpent in Eden, you seduced both of us with one bite of that treat.”
“I wouldn’t have thought you were into girl stuff.” I said softly to my wife.
“I haven’t, well, before today, I never did. I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to feel her lips on me, on my nipples, on my cunny lips. I wanted to feel her making love to me. I don’t know why, but I wanted it so bad.”
“Just like I needed to have your cock in my mouth.” Linda interjected. “Just like I want your cock in me so bad right now. I want to feel you pumping it into me until you fill me with your cum.” Linda said, rolling over. “So how about it? Wanna let me ride you until we both come?”
“I think I better save it for Nancy,” I answered her, getting a squeeze from Nancy in appreciation.
“Well, if you’re not going to fuck me, I have a dildo at home that’s just begging to feel my hot cunt around it.” Linda said as she stood up. “You know, I might not even bother to get dressed. Just put my shoes on and run home naked and get it. Wanna watch me? Wanna see me pumping it in and out of myself?”
“It’s sorta chilly out.” I said, avoiding the answer she wanted to hear.
She grinned. “Good. It’ll make my nipples nice and hard. You sure you don’t want to come watch me?”
“I better not.” I answered quietly. She shrugged and got up. A few moments later we heard the back door open and close, leaving us alone in the house. “What now?”
“I don’t know. I have an urge to fuck you under the Christmas tree.” Nancy winked
“So why don’t we?” I encouraged her fantasy.
“Is that what you want?” Nancy giggled.
“That’s the wrong question. The question you should ask, is that what We want?”
“Right now, I think it is.” She whispered.
“Okay. I don’t know if my cock is up to a third round, but I’m game to try.”
“Oh honey, I think I can handle that. You go out there and lay down on the carpet and I’ll be out in a few minutes, and I guarantee that I’ll get you hard.” She said with a soft giggle.
I nodded and got off the bed. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I was willing to let her try whatever she wanted. I grabbed a pillow off the sofa and lay down on the carpet to wait.
“I’m back!” Linda said as she walked in through the garage door again, this time holding a large purple translucent cock. “Oh. Waiting for me?” She asked, stepping over to me and squatting down over me. She rolled onto her knees and slid her wet cunt along my flaccid cock. “I’m not even going to need ‘Carlos’, am I?” she asked setting the dildo aside.
“Linda. I’m waiting for Nancy. I don’t think she’s going to want to see you on my lap. Please don’t make me choose!”
She frowned. “I won’t, but I can keep it warm, can’t I?”
I rolled my eyes. “If you promise to get right off when Nancy comes out.”
“I do.” She answered with a wicked little grin. She began to rock her hips, grinding herself against my cock. She reached for