Camping In Ireland: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 16 Jul 2026 03:32:00 +0000

Camping In Ireland: Part 1

A tale of firsts, set on a rainy camping trip, among young friends.

Based on a post by Josh stone, in 2 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

The Night Storm

Surrounded by flimsy, billowing nylon, the wind howled outside. The fly sheet occasionally touching the inner when the buffeting storm blew strongly enough, and patches of damp were beginning to appear where the outside was attempting to breach the inner. The light was fading outside and somehow the dankness of the evening was everywhere within. He stayed at the campsite while the others had headed for the village in the coast of Southwest Ireland. Local lads had told of a party, beer, and opportunity .

Inside her large nylon tent with him, she also lay, the two rather unknown to one another. Her head at the far end, and his head near the zips, forming the door. Their two sleeping bags were zipped up, and they were each warm and safe, escaping as they had into the nearest dry tent they found. Her tent.

The severe weather overtook the two after the rest of the group had departed for a party, in the village.

There was a silent tension, which neither of them could quite understand. Cordial talk of home, of family and of newly forming college friendships. The trip was planned by just a few of those participating. But by word of mouth the invites expanded the event, until it became a motley crew of friends-of-friends-of-friends. She was invited by her friend next door, who was a cousin of the guy who invited a guy who invited him. Even the travel was done in a loose caravan. He drove his own SUV. She caught a ride in her neighbor s Honda Civic.

Conversation flowed easily enough; but their bodies were somehow tense, his legs were restless.

To break the growing silence, he shuffled out of his sleeping bag and explained that he was going to fetch water and his head torch . A flashlight gadget mounted to an elastic headband, for hands-free illumination. Was there anything she wanted?

His tent was damaged when a pole snapped. They quickly grabbed his essentials and took refuge in her family tent which she had all to herself.

The others would be away for hours yet. Who knows if the other tents will survive this barrage?

Arriving back, he carefully unzipped her tent door, He removed his boots and waterproofs, just inside; so as to keep them as dry as possible, and to prevent any remaining dry contents of the tent from getting wet. A ritual he had become so used to these last few days, of the perpetual Irish rain. As he entered the main section of the tent, a shiver ran down his spine as a drip fell down his face from his soaking wet hair.

Thank you for staying back at camp. I m not sure how I d feel about this weather, if I was alone on this strange coastline. She said.

I wonder how the group is doing, and how bad the weather is where they are? He wondered aloud.

Maybe they got in a jealous fight with some local guys, and are all now safe and sobering up in the county jail? she giggled.

She was watching his faint silhouette through the gloom. Then she sat up, holding out a slightly damp towel and rubbing his wet head. He collapsed on his bag, still shivering. He lay for a moment, noticing his head was near to hers this time; sensing her eyes on him, without looking himself. She pulled his open bag up over his body and to his chin. Then settled back into her own cocoon.

The rain had increased its percussive hammering; at once deafening and consoling. Silence fell once more.

After some time, she raised her arm above her head, stretching slightly with a yawn. He did the same. Held above, unsteady, arms began to move towards one another. Tiredness was mentioned, the rain, wondering how the party was going. Slowly, slowly, their hands met in mid-air. Fingers wrapped gently around fingers, a cold palm met a warm palm. He now understood the tension for the first time.

Arms began to ache, held up as they were. They were lowered between bodies, bodies were turned towards one another in symmetrical, silent adjustment. The light was now so dim that little could be made out in the dark of the tent, but he didn't reach for his torch. They lay there for perhaps an hour, hand in hand, completely still and without a word uttered. He thawed out, warmed up, relaxed.

She felt the sensuality of the moment, and deeply waited. At some point, they both noticed the breath of the other, first in the rise and fall of chests, and then in breath on cheeks, breath on lips. They became synchronous, breathing deeply, imagining each other's face, only centimeters away from their own. At some point their lips finally met.

Both he and she were filled with the yearning of youth, yet relaxed and warm, protected from the elements, protected by each other. Their kiss was deep and relaxed. Her full lips parted and her tongue slipped slowly into his mouth, sensing for the first time his heat, his desire. His senses awakened, he became aware of the smell of wood smoke on their clothes, the smell of her hair.

He brought a hand up to her neck, felt her dark hair between his fingers as he held her close. Their tongues explored each other's lips, their faces and necks, and the pouring rain disappeared amidst their enjoyment. She shifted her body, unzipping her sleeping bag and pulling his leg across, his between hers. She put a hand on the small of his back, he mirrored her movements. His hand glancing across her back, feeling ribbed cotton of her top, her skin beneath. Her hand gliding up. under his flannel shirt, tingling his bare skin.

On they kissed, their mouths wet and hot. Somehow, without either being aware, their bodies were now pressing together more, as he put his hand gently over her ass. His denim jeans became slightly stiff as he moved his hand, feeling the contours of her behind. He felt her thigh press ever so gently around his own, felt as his cock began to respond to her movement. This was what he had been hoping for, what he had imagined so many times, back in the city. Her movements became more and more definite, and his confidence grew. Her hands were on his ass now, and he sensed her need for more.

His hand went up her side smoothly, in one movement. He felt the bottom of her bra and the bulge of her small breasts beneath her vest top. Her breathing began to deepen as his thumb cupped her. Full breast.

In a graceful motion, she arched her back and lifted off her top, then settled back down, flat on her back. Without any self-awareness, his body rolled on his side, to fill the vacuum left by her re-positioning.

He could feel the slightly elastic cotton material of her bra more clearly under his fingers now. He felt the plain hem as the cotton dipped towards the middle of her chest. She was perfectly formed, her breast fitting perfectly into his hand. As his fingers reached the underwire of her bra, he reached into the other side, feeling the flesh of her breast for the first time. She jumped as his hand brushed over her nipple, her tongue pushing further into his mouth as they embraced.

Fingers retracted slightly, and his index finger and thumb held her tiny nipple gently. It was hard and clearly sensitive, judging by her reactions, and the skin around it was the softest he had ever felt. His erection was now clearly felt by both of them.

He fumbled as he attempted to unclip her bra, only to discover the absence of any back clips at all.

She came to the rescue, reaching into the valley between her orbs, and flicking the front clasp in a swift release. The stretch cloth cups swiftly retracted, instantly stripping her tits of any further obstructions.

She was laughing with him as she lifted it over her arms. With the strappy garment out of the way, she reached her far hand around his shoulder, and leveraged her torso and hips, so the two were pressing their pelvises against each other, still clothed and getting hotter.

In the dimness of the evening, neither of them was able to see each other. Now he would have to explore by touch alone. Neither could benefit from the facial expressions of the other. Their actions stood alone, in expressing desire and pleasure.

Her pelvis was rocking backwards and forwards against him in a slow and steady rhythm as he lowered his head to affectionately kiss each of her nipples. Less noticeable was his ascent over her body. He lay above her, his body arched as his lips and tongue explored first one, and then the other. The skin around her nipples began to wrinkle and tighten. His elbows propped his torso up, while his hands held two perfect orbs, as she breathily told him how good it felt.

As he sucked her, she felt his sucking on her nipples deeply across her body. In her breast, in her stomach, between her legs.

When she could stand no more, she pulled him over and before he knew it, he was flat on his back, just inches from the sidewall of the tent, and she was once again kissing him deeply.

Her hands found his defined chest, before plunging downwards, toward his waist.

He grimaced and her weight on his cock became a discomfort.

As her pelvis twerked aggressively, she felt his erection through his trousers for the first time. Instinctively she shuffled down on his thighs, as her hand reached his bound up cock.

He subconsciously pinched her nipples hard, and her fingers pinched his phallic crown.

They broke to re-center themselves in the center of the tent. Then she knelt straddling his thighs. She was now knelt and vertical, over his thighs, and fumbling to find his zipper waistband snap.. Her gentle movements up and down his erection became more and more confident, and she took his hand, guiding it to her still-clothed crotch..

He had heard about girls getting hot, but he was still astonished at how much warmth was radiating from her. He could feel the shape of her vulva beneath her jeans, could feel her athletic legs as they joined her torso. Suddenly there was a desperation in the tent. Both she and he became impatient to explore further.

She finally unsnapped and unzipped his barrier, and pulled his trousers open. He arched to raise his ass off the floor. She quickly slid his jeans down to his ankles. Meanwhile he removed his top.

As he was doing, so she sat back and unbuttoned her jeans, slipping them over her slim hips, then sat back while she drew her legs up, to finish removing the tight, form-fitting blue jeans.

Her knees were now raised in the tent as she pulled the tight denim over her ankles. He pictured what she would look like, imagined her legs now free for him to explore. She leaned back, supported by her extended arms, while she enjoyed his explorations.

He took her foot, still raised towards her chest, and traced her smooth leg up her calf, past her knee. He felt as the flesh softened on the underside of her thigh, felt as it curved up towards her ass cheek.

And then he felt them. Her pants were as he had imagined. Plain, thin snug cotton from the feel of them. He cupped her buttocks in both hands. In the pitch dark he was feeling her open her hips up so his hands could feel the inside of her thighs. The unspoken invite compelled him to reach inwards, to feel the edge of her knickers.

He was not at all certain. He'd heard others talk of course, had read things. But he had never been able to do this before. A surge of anxiety suddenly flooded his body. Uncertainty threatened to take over.

As if by instinct, she took charge. Taking his hand, she moved it across her vulva, rested it on the hot mound which was beneath the thin layer of cotton stretched across it. He felt her thin pubic hairs beneath, the damp line forming where he knew her opening lay.

He moved his fingers across the place where he imagined her clitoris would be. That s when he felt her cleft, the softening of her, the point at which his finger was able to press a little deeper, where the resistance of her crotch gave way to heat and openness. He stroked in small circles, finding a rhythm and the right place. He was quickly learning by her breathing and subtle movement. Her soft panting was a good indication of her enjoyment, his insecurity beginning to disappear.

She slid both her hands up is thighs, then felt the tight fabric of his boxers. Gently feeling the ascending contours, she fingers met at the apex, when she heard his groan.

He saw none of this, lying there in the deep darkness of this rainy night. But the soft touch disappeared from his phallic crown. Then he felt two soft hands on his inner thighs. They explored the caverns under his loose boxer shorts, until they again met at the maypole of this holiday.

Her thumbs rubbed the underside of his rigid mast, while her index fingers gently petted his wide spongy crown.

The hefty and labored breathing instinctively counseled her to redirect her affections.

She slid the fingers of both her hands down, around his hairy sack. While she elevated the package, both her thumbs explored the enclosed contents. Two plump meatballs responded to her thumbs manipulation. She even explored the cords and tubes which came from the balls and exited up into his pelvis.

Then she extracted both hands and slid them up over his remaining garment. At the top of his hips, she firmly hooked the waistband and pulled at his boxer shorts, thus releasing his erection in the cold of the tent. He felt as one hand cupped his balls, massaging him slowly, as the other hand wrapped his naked cock again.

He feared he would not be able to hold on, but his focus on her enjoyment and the temperature of the tent helped him push this urging aside for now.

She explored his textures and shapes with her thumb. He groaned and sat up, as she began to move her hand up and down his cock. She felt every detail of his length, his foreskin, the tip of him wet with precum now on her thumb.

She lifted her knees up once more, enabling him to pull her panties over her hips and up her legs, as carefully as he could. He was on his knees as her legs extended out, now finally free of restrictive fabrics.

She pulled him against her bosom as she laid her legs down to his side, and they lay beside one another. He cupped her bare ass with one hand, while his other arm wrapped under her shoulder, to stroke her back.

He was feeling his cock upwardly pressed between their hot bodies on the mess of sleeping bags. Their kiss was more open and natural than before. They lay together, her breasts against his bare chest. Again her hips began to move, his leg upper leg between hers. Her upper leg slowly came up and her lower leg hooked around his ass, so they could move as one. And this time, his movements matched hers. His hard cock rubbing against her soft downy pubic hair. It was exquisite.

His hands reached around her toned ass until he felt her warmth, and his fingers traced the edge of her soft outer labia, her tender skin covered with fine hairs. She rotated her hips back, giving his fingers increased access, and his heart raced as he felt up to where they met once more above her clitoris. Her tongue licked the nape of his neck as he began, ever so tentatively, to circle her nub with his finger. Then his thumb began slipping ever so slightly between her hot folds. He had never felt anything so sublime. He felt her tiny clit grow beneath his finger, the wetness on his finger gliding across, around, within.

Her wetness was like hot syrup, slippery and inviting. He was desperate to explore.

Sensing his desire, she rolled onto her back, allowing her legs to part slightly. He got to his knees once again, still making love as a blind man. He stroked her legs gently, following her contours from both her knees up to her vulva. He felt the soft line of pubic hair and used both hands to offer the softest line around her now-engorged lips. As his fingers met at her clitoris, he allowed his left hand to part her a little, his right feeling her wetness fully for the first time, and she nearly came immediately when his finger slipped easily into her tight cunt.

He shuffled astride her body a little, allowing her hands to reach him once more, at the moment she drew a finger from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. His sack nuzzled between her crotch, his pole elevated like the canon of a battleship.

He scooted back down a bit, to further explore the dark cave of her womb, where he discovered the hot ridges of muscle within her body as she tilted her hips towards him. He heard her pant as he began to move his finger inside her. Her one hand came to her clitoris, to accent his strokes, while her other hand embraced and stroked slowly on his erection as he began to understand how to please her.

Her right hand now rubbing her clitoris vigorously. She told him to add another finger, and the sounds became louder, her voice, his voice, the wetness between her legs as his fingers moved within. In the dark and with the others miles away, there was no need to hold back.

His fingers working in and out of her soaking hole, and he felt her muscles contract around his digits as her pace grew more and more frantic on his cock. "I'm going to come" she cried in a guttural voice he hadn't heard before, and her legs began to shake as she lifted her ass up towards him. He felt as she squeezed his fingers with her strong vaginal muscles and surge after surge of contractions around his fingers were matched with her squeezing of his cock as she choked it. As she shouted, he groaned. His senses lost equilibrium as his hips began to tingle. Then a pressure hit his cock and streams of his seed flowed from him. She felt the heat of his semen as it landed in strings across her stomach and groin.

They collapsed in an exhausted embrace. His fingers slipped from her cunt, and she released his scepter, as their orgasms pervaded.

He laid over her, with a thin layer of semen allowing their torsos to slip and slide.

Their breathing steadied as they kissed once more, a first time for both of them, the evening's pleasures replaying in both of their minds as they drifted into dreams, the rain still hammering on the tent and the wind howling around them as they slept.

He awoke in a tangle of limbs and clothes. It was now light outside the tent, but there was no sign of life from the others yet. The rain had stopped and he noticed the special quiet that often emerges after a storm. Then, he noticed how cold he was.

Gathering her sleeping bag around them both, he pulled her close, her body was warmer than his. His hands held her tanned shoulder, the muscles of her upper back flexing slightly as she brought herself towards him in her slumber.

She rolled him onto his back, then rested her head on his bare chest. The thick sleeping bag pulled up over both their heads.

He felt as her breasts pressed against his chest, her twitch he moved his hand to the small of her back. He began to doze off, half asleep once more, and yet he couldn't help but imagine, to remember the night before, and to fantasize about what might lie ahead.

She was next to stir. Her brown eyes opened, taking in the man she had allowed to be so close last night. A private smile, a finger on his blonde eyebrow, tracing the shape of his angular face, his nose. And now he awoke, their eyes meeting as each pulled the other closer in the cold.

National Nude Daisy: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 14 Jul 2026 16:56:00 +0000

National Nude Daisy: Part 3

Nude Daisy Saves The Day For her boss.

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

The Desperate Plea. T Plus 4:50

"Tell me."

"Why go through all the hassle of coming out here naked, to just hide away in a park?" I ask, meeting Eliza's gaze. "Was that the whole plan? Or am I the only one who is; was enjoying herself?"

"The only thing I've really enjoyed was watching you," Bella says. "I'm quite ready to throw my dress back on and go home."

"Really? You feel nothing? Nothing today excited you at all?"

Bella sighs. "I suppose, if I'm being honest, there was a brief twinge. Not enough to risk my career over."

Frankie puts her hand up. "Still wet. Still bored."

"So let's do something," I say, sitting up. "We could have a few drinks? A pub lunch? That's gotta be better than; well;"

I wave my hands at the empty park. "This."

"I get what you're saying, but I have a shoot tomorrow," Frankie says, patting her flat stomach. "I'm contractually obliged to fast for 48 hours. I already cheated with that ice-cream. I can't risk the bloat."

I groan and fall back onto the grass. "There's always next year, I suppose."

A gust of wind sends a shimmer of recollection over my skin. I close my eyes and let my body talk. The grass tickles one side of me as it flutters in the breeze. I miss the heat. The tension.

I want the ache back.

Picking up my phone again, I scroll to the selfie I took. So happy. I smile, but I'm envious of my past self. So wet. I chuckle and zoom in on my thighs. Sweat, my cute ass. I can actually see my clit poking out a little if I really zoom in. I flick the image around.

I can't imagine ever being that happy again. Do I really have to wait a whole year?

My phone buzzes to life, making me jump. John's calling me?

Laying back on the grass, feeling the tall fesque turf tickling my wide-set moist open cunt, I put my phone to my ear. "I'm on holiday," I say, before he has chance to say anything.

"Daisy, thank fuck you answered," he blurts, sounding more stressed than usual. "I'm so sorry, but are you still in the city? Shit. Fan. I need cover. Please, Daisy."

"I am in the city, but," I glance at my sun-warmed body. "I'm not really dressed; appropriately."

"Daisy, don't worry about that. Just come in. Samantha is on the way, but it'll be two hours minimum. Jess isn't answering. Tara quit via text message, and Mary just scalded herself."

I sit upright. "Oh, fuck. Is Mary okay?"

"She'll live, but we sent her to the Urgent care clinic. Can you make it here before the lunch rush?"

"Uh, let me check and I'll confirm via text asap."

I hang up the phone and stand up. Everyone is looking at me. I glance at the phone in my hand, then Eliza, and finally at my filthy feet. Wriggling my toes in the grass. Bella would lend me the dress in her bag if I asked for it. I pull up my phone and type out a message.

Daisy: Can I just get a written confirmation? I'm really not dressed, I'd have to travel home first, and that will delay me an extra hour.

Daisy: I'm definitely a code violation.

BossyBoss: Just come in whatever you're wearing or not. I'm not going to give you shit for bailing me out, Daisy.

That's permission from my boss to go into work naked. I doubt he meant that, but; am I really considering this? That's work. I'll have to go back in there tomorrow, and every day after. Unless John fires me. Which he won't do today. He can't run the place solo, and we all know it. Two hours at work, completely nude, during the lunch rush. The absolute busiest part of the day. Saturday lunch rush is the best time for tips, It would really be nice to have some extra cash, I thought. But not if it gets me fired by the corporate stiffs.

"Are you going to tell us, or just stare pensively at your phone?" Eliza asks.

I look at each of the staring, expectant faces. Settling on Eliza. "There was an emergency at work," I say, watching Eliza realise what I'm i'm thinking in real time.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."

I smile and shrug. "I'm leaning towards yes," I say. "You guys were basically done with nude day. I was the only one who wanted more." I wave my phone at her. "The universe just provided more."

"Daisy, that's real life," Bella says, sliding her backpack off. "I brought spare clothes for a reason. Take them."

I don't want the clothes. I want to be naked. I love being naked. If I was able to, I think I'd spend the rest of my life in the buff. Just throw all my clothes away. I don't care if I get fired, or about my co-workers seeing me. I want them to see me. I want to see Kenny's jaw drop. I want Sammie to gossip. I want pictures of me hung up on the wall. To bend over the tables knowing my lips are spread and leaking.

I want them to fantasize about taking me.

"I'll get way more tips if I don't," I say, winking. "Besides, John said to come in whatever I was wearing, or not wearing. I'm obligated to follow his instructions."

Frankie smiles and nods. "Um hmm. Malicious compliance. I love it."

"Don't encourage her," Bella snaps. "Eliza, do something."

"Do you plan on walking there?" Eliza asks, flicking her gaze down. "Like that? All wet thighs with a wide on?"

I turn to face her, taking a step forward. "Thought I'd take the bus, actually. The lunch rush will be kicking off soon. I need to get there asap."

"Daisy, stop thinking with your snatch for a minute," Bella says, dropping her bag on the floor. "You're going to have to go back there tomorrow, and have everyone talking about the time you turned up to work naked."

Shifting my weight, I grit my teeth to fight the quiver that sentence caused.

Eliza narrows her gaze. "That's the point, isn't it?" she asks, cutting right through me. "You want them to talk. They wouldn't dream of a world where adorable, shy Daisy Hart would strut around the city naked."

"It might be bad to have them talk, it might not," I say, shifting my glance between them all. "I think it would be much worse to go back and have none of them know who I am now."

Bella falls back onto the table and holds her head. "She's lost to us. Our adorable Daisy is now for the streets."

"You know that people don't notice me. Look at me," I say, thrusting my arms out wide and looking down. "I'm tiny, and constantly compared to all of you. That's not your fault, and you know I don't blame you, but it's the truth."

I point toward the supermarket.

"No one bumped into me. They certainly didn't ignore me. For the first time since we were kids, I was noticed. Fuck, I was ogled. Me. The girl hidden from the world by genetics and the average height of people's eyes."

I shrug and let my shoulders fall. "Maybe it is in my head, and I was never invisible," I say, glancing at Eliza. "All I know is, the moment I stopped being afraid of being seen, I found the change I have been yearning for."

Frankie hops off the table and gives me a hug. "We've always seen you, tiny-slimmy."

I chuckle. "Is that seriously going to become a new nickname?"

"Only all the time," Frankie says, kissing my head. "If you want to do this, I think you should do it."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Frankie, you are a terrible enabler."

Frankie chuckles and flicks Bella's nipple. "Not true. I'm very good at it. It's her body, her life, her choice."

Eliza takes a sharp inhale through her nose. "What about Kenny?" she asks. "He might see you and run a mile. This might ruin your chances."

"That would suck," I say, nodding. "It's been a year, sis. Something needs to change, or nothing ever will."

"You're absolutely sure?" Eliza asks. "I'm telling you not to do it."

"I'm going anyway," I say. "And you can post that selfie if you want. I look fucking fabulous."

"Yes, you do." Eliza shrugs and turns to Bella. "She's determined."

"I am. I have now graduated early, moving on to slay bigger giants. And I will do it alone, traveling solo on crowded public transit; then risking my economic security and workplace social circle. All because I refuse to go back to being yesterday's Daisy."

I give Frankie a squeeze before walking to Bella and wrapping my arms around her. "Thank you, and I love you," I whisper. "I'm sorry."

Bella squeezes me. "You know we're coming with you, right?"

I step back. "Actually, I'd prefer it if you three incomparably beautiful women didn't steal my naked thunder. You three goddesses will enjoy the group security of each other's presence. I will slay this personal giant alone."

I give Eliza a massive, very firm hug. "You've got my keys, remember? Would you mind waiting for me?"

She pulls me in and rests her cheek on my head. "If your life implodes, you can live with me as my naked house cat. I'll feed you all the best nibbles."

"Better not get cheap with the damn nibbles," I say, nuzzling into her. "Thank you for pushing me."

Eliza breaks the hug and stares at her phone again. "Go on, fuck off," she says, glancing up with a smirk."

I flick her nipple. "I want a fancy collar too," I say, walking backwards and waving. "Love you guys. See ya."

Liberation of Daisy-2.O” T plus 5 hours.

Then, I find myself walking out of the park again. It's a surreal feeling. Like my feet are moving on their own. My hands sway without thought, or input from me at all. I'm carried forward by automatic movements, as if my subconscious is driving. I'm floating through the streets toward the bus stop. My focus is on my body, and everything that's happening to it. My face, though; resumes the surreal bliss and confident friendly grin. The way my hand raises to wave at every honking car, or how I smile at every glance or stare. The phantom warmth of brushing past someone. When a hand or arm brushes against my skin.

I wonder if they can feel my heat.

When I reach the bus stop, the L E D sign tells me the bus will be five minutes, so I pull my phone out and text John an update. Partial update. I don't want to mention the nudity. He agreed to it, but I still don't think he knows exactly what he agreed to. I can't wait to see the look on his face. On Kenny's face. The customers, too.

Oh fuck, the customers. Those awkward, flirty comments. My heart flutters as I think about it. I chew my smile thinking about Kenny. I wonder if cute suit guy is still thinking about me? Will Kenny have the same reaction? Fully hard with furtive glances. If he doesn't make a move now, at least I'll know.

My nipples stiffen. Sammie will be there soon. Little miss blabber-mouth. She'll tell everyone. The whole city will know. It's funny. Last night I was adamant she shouldn't find out about it for the exact reason I can't wait to happen.

The bus turns the corner, and I put my hand up to signal, enjoying the firmness of my tit as it moves with me. The driver gapes at me while I pay, and the bus full of people stare. The seats are all taken so I grab the pole next to 3 young college girl's seats. I smile at them, then fish my phone out and pretend I'm reading. Not reading. Watching. The texting app is mostly a black screen, and gives a reasonable good reflection of my surroundings. All the looks, the sneers, the licked lips. The hidden expressions they think they're doing behind my back.

I relish them all. I lean against the baggage rack as the bus jerks underway; the metal bar shudders and shakes with the engine. Stealing glances at my audience, I notice there are phones pointed at me. I turn to the bloke behind my right shoulder and inhale a full chestful of air, then flash a big grin and throw up a peace sign with my hand. Yes, I've seen you. No, I don't mind at all. I don't care that I'm being filmed. I don't care that I have no control at all over that footage. My engine revs, and I feel my stomach tensing.

Shifting my weight, I press my thighs together. Slick. Sensitive.

I'm open and I know it.

After 20 minutes, the bus gets me to the stop closest to the cafe, and I take pause. What am I doing? What am I about to do?

This is it.

The point of no return.

I can't ever go back if I do this.

That's not true. I couldn't go back the moment I stepped onto my front street this morning. So, I walk toward the cafe. Head high. Every inch of me revealed, heart and skin laid bare. Every escalation has led me here. I would have been disappointed if the day didn't end this way. This giant still looming over me. If I wasn't completely and irrevocably exposed to my contemporaries. Approaching my workplace, pass the various tables out on the street, still empty. The tables inside are full, and the people sitting by the windows gawk at me, mouths falling open as I walk through the door.

Nude Day At Work: T plus 5:30.

All the conversations end. A dozen people staring in silence. A chair squeaks on the tile. I smile and weave through the tables toward the back. John stands behind the register. He turns, locks his eyes on me, and they widen as the realization hits. His face turns red, and he grabs my wrist and drags me into the back.

"Why are you naked?" he asks, whisper-shouting at me.

"You said to come in whatever I was wearing," I say, gesturing to myself. " Or not wearing!This is what I was wearing, pointing to my thigh satchel."

"Okay, but why are you naked?" he repeats, rubbing his forehead.

"It's national nude day?" I shrug. "I told you that I wasn't dressed."

"You; did say that," he says, looking out at the customers. "I thought you were wearing exercise apparel, short skirt or; or; flip-flops. I didn't think you meant literally."

"Well, I'm here now," I say. "And I'm all you've got, but if you'd prefer, I can just go home and change? But I'll demand lost wages for the hour it takes"

"No; no. I can't deal with the rush on my own. We're going to be talking about this at length. You can bet on that," he says, shaking his head as he scans my body. I smirk as he lingers on my tits. "I mean, where do we even put your name badge?"

A fair point. It's sounding a lot like this will be my last day, after all. So, why not go out with a bang? Push my own boundaries for a change, instead of relying on Eliza to know what I'm comfortable with.

I hold up a finger to John and walk out to the reception desk. "Sorry, we'll be with you in a second," I say to the growing line of customers. I fish out the marker pen from the pot beneath the counter and take it back to John.

"Right about here should do it," I say, pointing to my left tit. "It'll be neater if you write it."

He takes the marker and stares at it for a moment. "Daisy; what's going on?" he asks, shifting his gaze from the pen to my eyes. "Did somebody give you something? Do you know where you are? What's happening?"

I widen my eyes and move my head closer. "I'm not on drugs, boss. It's really just comedic timing, that's all," I say. "The festival in the city? Was a nude one. I went with some friends, and we left our clothes at home. That's the whole story."

I nod toward the marker. "People are waiting, so grab a tit and start writing."

I rise on my toes and puff my chest out.

"This is sexual harassment," he says, pulling the cap off the marker. "But who would believe me?"

Holding the marker like a scalpel, and doing everything he can to avoid brushing against me, John scrawls my name above my tit. I flush as the marker scratches slightly, to inscribe D, and leaves a tingle as it passes.

The marker is grabbing your skin, sorry for the bad penmanship.” John shyly admits.

“Here,” I grab his free hand and firmly pressed it to cup my tit. “Squeeze and it will firm up. I want classy penmanship because it will not soon wear off, damn it!” I ordered my timid boss.

Each letter of my name throbs and pulses, but it's John's breath on my chest that fuels my need more than anything. My skin prickles with each warm, damp wave of pressure against me.

“I dot my I with a heart, not a dot. Please comply, boss.”

Gods, keep touching me. Feel the heat. I fight against my shuddering breaths as he steps back & inspects his handiwork.

Or is he just looking at my tits? My nipples pinch themselves under his scrutiny.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, putting the cap on the marker and looking out at the cafe. "It's going to get very busy, and I can't man the til and keep their hands off you."

I have way too many tables to do my own bussing, John. You'll need to cover the clean up and reset, so that I get the hot food and cold drinks served. Also, If it gets too long of a wait line, have the hostess pass out menus and take their orders ahead of time.”

“That's smart!” John said with a surprised look.

“And I get to keep 100% of my tips!” was my final demand, Corporate doesn't know I'm here, so lets try to keep it that way. Don't put me on the staff ledger and don't log any base pay. The customers will determine my worth and I'll keep that sum to myself.”

He just nodded his affirmation. He was now treating me as a business equal, but also as a valued person. I admire his compassion. Consideration. It's the excuse I needed to escalate. I don't give him the chance to complain, or even turn his head. I skip forward and wrap my arms around him.

Pressing my heat against him, I squeeze him and feel his cock stir against my belly.

“You're good?” he says.

"I'm sure," I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for looking out for me, boss."

I am powerful.

I am desirable.

Grabbing an order pad and pen from behind the counter, I stride back into the room full of waiting tables.

Serving In The Nude: T plus 11:40.

"Sorry about the wait, everyone," I announce, feeling everyone's attention shift onto me. They were already looking, but now they had permission. "If we could obey the honour system and let me know who's been waiting the longest, I'll get to everyone as soon as I can."

I follow the chain of hands and comments, writing a list of table numbers to work through. The length of the list excites me. More than just a list of numbers, it's a checklist of exposure. I'm going to interact with every number, speak to them, joke with them, and they're going to look at me. All of me.

Every part of me is flushed, and I know why. I know I'm horny. So do they. Every polite stammer, or lingering gaze. I watch the eyes as they drink me in, drawn to the parts of me they know they shouldn't be looking at, but can't help themselves. Those are the parts I need them to see. I shift my weight as I focus on my pad, scribbling away as though I weren't naked. As though I wasn't wearing a bag that framed my spreading cunt lips.

As though I hadn't split my legs just enough to give a better view.

I approach the first number on my list. "Hi, there," I say to the middle-aged couple at the table, tapping my 'name badge' with my pen, and flashing the biggest grin I can. "My name's Daisy, and I'll be the server for today. What can I get you?"

The couple politely ordered their coffees and food, which I dutifully note on my pad. I smirk as the husband buries his head in the menu. Making a show of not looking. Though his wife made no such attempt, scanning me fully and nodding.

"I was wild like you," she says, matching my smile. "Never went

National Nude Daisy: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 13 Jul 2026 16:53:00 +0000

National Nude Daisy: Part 2

A timid waitress travels nude on the metro train.

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

The train pulls in at the next station, and I'm forced to move away from the door. I grab the handle as if my life depends on it, and watch each face as it steps on. First, they gaze at me, then the others, then they awkwardly find a place to stand.

I try to make room, and it's not as though I take up a lot of it, but there isn't much to go around. The soft scratch of clothing as people push past leaves a ghost of sensation on my skin. I remember what it was like to have clothes on. I should have them on now. I shuffle my bare feet inward, toes resting on toes. Last thing I need is to be stomped on, especially likely considering the only handle was the vertical bar in the middle of the section.

A warm hand brushes against mine and, looking up, I see a young man in a cheap suit quickly averting his gaze.

"Sorry," he says, sliding his hand away.

I smile up at him and bite my lip. He's trying so hard not to look. His neck is tense. His knuckles are white on the handle. I glance toward Frankie, then Bella. Finally, I let my gaze settle on Eliza. I could stand to be more like them. Flirty Frankie, is just trying to have fun no matter the situation. Bella just doesn't give a fuck at all, and Eliza? She's still engrossed in her phone.

How do I get that comfortable?

I look at my feet and shift positions. I can see people looking, watching. Not just the three beauties, they're also looking at me.

Some are trying to hide it, looking away as my survey of the situation threatens to catch them. Others don't even try to hide their gaze. They stare at me, my body. Even as I muster my courage to stare back, they just smirk and drink me in. Another stop.

More people climb on and claim what little space was left.

I'm pressed against the suited young man, between an older guy in a tracksuit who practically forced his way next to me. Suit guy is breathing heavily. Stealing glances. He shifts in place and rubs against me. I shift and rub against him.

I miss the cool breeze, because it's getting really warm on this train. All the people and no windows on this wonderful day. I feel hot all over.

Tapping on the suited gent's arm, I get his attention and give him permission to look at me.

"Would it be alright if I put my feet on yours?" I ask, looking up more with my eyes than my head. "I'm scared of being stepped on."

His mouth opens. Enough for half a breath, but no words. His head drops and he sighs. Silently turning a shoe toward me.

"Thank you," I say, stepping onto him. Pressing myself closer. I'm teasing him on purpose, and I wonder if he knows it. My shallow breaths are shaking again. The tightness in my chest brings a new warmth with it.

His hand brushes against my tit. It grazes my nipple as he pulls it away. I feel his warmth linger on my body.

"Fuck, sorry," he says, blushing almost as much as I am.

"Don't worry," I say. "It was an accident."

I narrow my gaze and crease my brow. "Or was it?" I ask, giggling after I pause long enough for him to stammer.

The cutest smile cracks his face, and he turns away to laugh.

"Had me worried," he says, giving me a flash of his smiling face. He still can't quite look at me.

I thought I'd be vulnerable. Weak. Overlooked. But he's completely under my spell.

Entranced.

I am powerful.

The train jolts, pushing everyone into everything. My balancing act crumbles as I fall backwards. The grip on the central pole only guiding my descent instead of stopping it. I squeak, expecting gravity and a hard floor; instead, I feel a warm hand on my back, and a strong arm pulling me close. My free hand grips the suited arm as it steadies me.

I look up at him, and our eyes meet. They lock. They linger. His hand is still on my back. Fingers spread wide as my muscles react, arching my back, pressing me into him. I can hear my heartbeat, or is it his? I can't tell, but I know mine is in my throat. My gaze flicks to his lips as I lick mine, before I get lost again in the moment. His hand slides over my skin as he pulls his arm away. Without thinking, I tighten my grip on him.

He stops.

The world stops.

"Daisy," Eliza says.

"Hmm?" I drag my gaze from him to see my friends looking at me. My eyes flick between them. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Eliza asks, shooting glances at the young man.

"Um hmm. Yup. Totally," I say, turning my gaze back to him. "Just two strangers on a train who are definitely not having a moment."

He glances toward Eliza, then back to me. "I think your friends might hurt me if I don't let you go."

"I might hurt you if you do," I say, pouting.

The realization of how blatant and brazen I'm being slaps me in both cheeks, and I burn red. I have to look away.

"Gods, I am so sorry. I'm not usually this flirtatious," I say, stepping off his foot. "Or naked."

His finger tips trace around my torso as his hand slips away, just barely grazing the edge of my tit.

"That's a shame," he says, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "I'm lucky I got to experience both, then."

I turn to Eliza, widening my eyes and pursing my lips. She smirks and returns to her phone. I spend the rest of the ride stealing glances at the cute guy, wishing I could ask for his number, or even his name, but that wouldn't be fair to him. My heart, as of right now, belongs to Kenny. It doesn't seem right to keep a back-up option, or to give hope to someone unnecessarily.

I am definitely having some feelings toward him. That smile is like a hot knife through my butter, and I am melting. Or am I just sweating from the stifling heat on this train?

When we finally pull into Valeria station, I pull him by his jacket and, rising onto my toes, give him a kiss on the cheek. "It was nice to meet you," I say, walking backwards onto the platform. Smiling as I watch him take his coat off and fold it in front of his crotch.

Did I get you hard, pretty stranger? I wanted to ask, but lacked the brazen will to.

"What. A. Slut," Bella says. "Seriously, I think he was about to bust in his pants."

"You think so?" I ask, glancing behind me. Hoping to steal another look at him.

"Are you kidding?" Frankie asks, jumping in with an arm around me and Bella. "He was hard the whole time."

Bella nods. "Why am I not surprised that you were looking at it," she says, sliding out from under Frankie. "Well done, Daisy. That was very brave."

I stare at the tiled floor of the station, chewing my smile. The open air of the station is such a relief after the train. Every cooling step an affirmation for baring my soles.

What was I worried about?

Nature Park T plus 4 hours.

Even as we exit the station on to the bustling city streets, the looks on people's faces as they pass by, the way their heads turn toward us. Always with a slight raise of the brow. They're finally stepping around me. Lowering their phones to see me.

I stretch my arms above my head, and then out to the side. Releasing the tension held in my shoulders. I hop in front of my friends. Giddy and grinning.

"I'm ready for the festival," I say, beaming and bouncing on the balls of my feet.

Bella nudges Eliza. "We've created a monster," she says, ruffling my hair. "You were about ready to jump that lucky lad."

"If I wasn't head over ass for Kenny, I might have done exactly that," I say, spinning around. "I feel better than I have in a really long time."

"The park is this way," Eliza says, walking in the direction she's pointing. "Try not to leave a trail, Daisy."

I quickly check the floor to see what I've been dropping, but seeing nothing, I take off after them. I'm happy walking a few steps behind everyone, looking in shop windows. The hairs on my neck stand up. The air is electric, sending ripples of delicious sensation dancing over my skin. Even my somersaulting stomach is settling into a tight coil.

A tickle of wind teases my hip.

My feet register every crack, lump, or bobble on the pavement.

Back in the sunshine, I bask in my bravery. I don't care if I'm seen or not.

This is amazing.

I can't wait to see the festival. What sort of events will there be? It made little sense to research it. I was sure I would be a terrified little ball of nerves being rolled towards it by Eliza. It never once occurred to me I would enjoy this.

Leaving the busy streets and entering the park, my excitement wanes considerably. There aren't any tents, bands, or events at all. Just a few naked people sitting on the grass. Probably fewer than thirty in total.

"That's; a pretty generous use of 'festival'," I say, somewhat deflated. "No music? No dancing? No crowds?"

"Aw, is the newest nudist disappointed there aren't more people to gawk at her?" Eliza teases. "I told you that you'd like it, didn't I?"

"You did, and you were right."

Frankie cups a hand to her forehead as she scans the park. "Daisy has a point, though. This is pretty lame."

"Maybe it'll liven up in an hour or so?" Bella suggests, typing on her phone.

Eliza shrugs. "I admit, I was expecting a bit more effort on their part," she says, putting her phone into her leg bag. "Let's give it an hour, as Bella says. It's still only ten in the morning."

We make our way to one of the many unoccupied picnic tables. Eliza and Bella stretch out on either end of the table, with Frankie sitting between them with her feet on the seat, leaning back on her hands, soaking in the sun. I look around at the other attendees.

We're clearly the youngest here, by a couple of decades minimum. That might explain the lack of energy. Like an orgy at a library. Actually, that sounds way more fun. Seriously, is this it? After everything we; I went through? All the nerves, fear, and gathered willpower.

A fucking picnic? No hot guys. No Dee Jay, No bumping and grinding.

It's worse than that. At least a picnic would have sandwiches. I stroll around the table. The warm earth is still pleasant, and the grass tickling my feet with each step reminds me of the excitement I felt earlier. I pull my phone out of my leg bag. No messages. I pull down on the screen to refresh.

Nothing.

My hands fall to my side as I sigh at the sky. Am I bored? Or is it just that everything here is so chill compared to everything else?

"Tell me," Eliza says, without looking up from her phone.

"I don't know, I just; is this it?" I ask, gesturing at the almost empty park. "It feels a little, I don't know, anticlimactic."

Eliza turns her phone over. "What were you expecting? An orgy? Fireworks and pole-dancing?" she asks, fixing her gaze on me.

Bella lowers her phone to raise a brow at Eliza, then joins her in staring at me.

"Again, I don't know. I just; Expected like;" I put my hands on my hips and stare at the sky. "I thought I'd feel different. Not about this. About myself. I thought I'd change, or something."

"You don't think you've changed?" Eliza asks, sitting up and perching on the edge of the table.

"Do you?"

"Yes, you've absolutely changed, and for the better." Eliza points her phone at me and snaps a picture.

Bella glares at Eliza.

I stare at her and raise my brow. "Another nude to send Kenny?" I ask, smirking. "I already called that bluff. You wouldn't do that to anyone, least of all me."

Eliza smirks back, and I feel my stomach tighten. "Daisy, you're right. I wouldn't," she says, winking at Bella. "You freaked out when I took the picture last night, yet now you shrug it off."

She holds her phone out and gestures for me to look. "Before," she says, showing the picture she took last night. I look terrified. Gripping the wine glass like a lifeline.

She swipes to the picture she just took. "After."

I stare at the picture, taking the phone from her with stunned hands. I barely recognize myself. In every photo I've ever had, I've been awkward and embarrassed. With that smile that screams 'brave face'.

I hate having my picture taken.

But; In this picture? I'm upright. I'm open. I look; confident.

"If you still need more proof of your growth," Eliza says, peeling her phone from my fingers. "You're standing naked in the middle of the city; and you're bored."

Taking a deep breath, I cock my head and let her words resonate. I am bored. Eliza knows me better than anyone. My hands aren't shaking, I'm not trying to shrink away.

I haven't even thought about covering up since we got on the train.

I shrug. "Huh;" I mumble. "Did you know I'd be bored? Or did you only plan everything else?"

"Actually, and I know this is going to sound bitchy, but I expected you to chicken out at the train," Eliza says, stepping off the table and placing her hands on my shoulder. "That's why we had Bella bring spare clothes in her bag. You've surprised even me, Daisy. I'm not even mad, and you know how much I hate surprises."

I lunge forward and wrap my arms around Eliza. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She squeezes me tight. "Without you, I'd probably be in jail. Or a cult leader."

"Or a cult leader in prison," Bella adds.

Eliza smirks. "That sounds like fun," she says, kissing my head and returning to the table. "If you're bored, find some way to amuse yourself."

Frankie thrusts a hand in the air. "Cornettos!" she spurts, leaning back on the table, looking at me with her head upside down. "It's hot. I want to lick something. Ice cream, milk cholate, caramel. And nuts, all in a waffle cone."

I look around for a shop and spot a supermarket pretty close to the park. The road is busy; the pavement is dotted with pedestrians, and, scanning the road, I spot a set of traffic lights. It's probably a five-minute walk, plus however long the lights take to change. I could be there and back again in twenty minutes as the worst-case scenario.

I? Surely I mean we?

Biting my lip, I consider how crazy I might actually be. It's no different from what I've already done. I'd just be doing it alone. My heart skips. Walking through the busy streets. Naked. Alone. Standing at the lights while cars go by, as who knows how many people walk on either side. I picture standing in the line inside the store, surrounded, trapped.

Exposed.

Cornetto Run. T plus 4:10.

I feel a warm flush over my body. "Four Cornetto's coming up," I say, stepping boldly toward the park exit.

"Want me to come with?" Bella yells.

I spin around and open my arms. "I got this," I yell back, with a level of bravado that catches me by surprise. I actually mean it. "I'll call Eliza if I need a rescue."

The task doesn't feel real until I reach the steel gate of the park. The metal, shaded by the wall, is cool to the touch, and it creaks loudly when I open it. My presence was announced, and now I am realizing how much difference being one of four naked girls had on my mentality.

The confidence I had just moments ago drains. My first instinct is to shut the gate and walk back.

I don't want that. I can't go back. My knee-jerk reactions would have sent me home the minute I stepped outside, and what a day I would have missed. The after picture proved it. I am already a new Daisy.

New Daisy wants a fucking Cornetto.

I straighten up, force my shoulders back, take a deep breath, and step onto the pavement. My friends are out of sight, and all the gazes I told myself were locked onto them now have no other target but me.

Daisy, the naked errand girl.

The pavement is cold. The car engines are louder, the horns honk at an uncomfortable register. I walk in the shadow of the park's wall, and even the warmth of the sunlight is taken from me.

I am removed from all comfort and completely exposed.

A long honk makes me jump, and another involuntary squeak falls from me. The first in a while. Pushing the button for the traffic lights, I stand in fidgeting silence. Hopping from one foot to the other, fists clenching and relaxing at my side. Closing my eyes, I try to steady my heart with deep breaths.

I'm letting my nerves win. I can't enjoy it if I'm too scared to let it happen. Remember the train. Remember the warmth.

I stop bouncing and open my eyes. I'm still warm. Hot, even. Pressing a hand to my tit, I can feel it. My skin is blooming, radiant, and still tingling in the flirtatious wind. It seems sharper on my left, and as I turn to check why, I see someone quickly averting their gaze. I feel a flutter in my gut, and a new warmth spreading from it.

"Nice day for it," I say, finding my mischief.

The parts I've enjoyed most have always been after interacting with people. Old man in the car, cute suit guy; oh, what are you up to now, cute suit guy? Still thinking of me?

"Don't talk to me, slut," the man says, taking a step away from me.

I raise my brow. That was rude, but I suppose you can't please them all. I stretch my arms above my head and smirk as he still steals glances at me.

Envy. That's all it is. He wishes he was brave like me. Could have a girl like me. He lusts after me.

The lights beep, and I strut across the road, waving at the cars that honk. Even pausing in the middle of the road to offer a curtsy. I play the part, and I love it. I think I get why Frankie is the way she is.

This is fun.

The smile I once had forces its way back onto my face. So broad my cheeks hurt, but I can't complain.

I've never been so happy. I pull my phone from my leg bag and, snapping a selfie, send it to Eliza.

Instant read.

She acts aloof, but she was ready to jump in the second I needed. Gives me just enough space to succeed on my own, but her hand is always waiting when I stumble.

The automatic doors of the store slide open, and a blast of conditioned air washes over me. I linger beneath the fan at the entrance, arms wide, head back, letting the cold air tease my skin. Parting my thighs to let them cool off, I gasp as the artificial breeze kisses between them.

My eyes close as I hold myself in this new thrill. My flesh is fever. I ache. I yearn. Sweat glistens on my skin, yet I still burn. I murmur under my long, deep breaths as the itch starts. My fingers trace the top of my tit.

Being naked is incredible. Every impression is heightened. Every tickle is stark.

Fabric brushes against my shoulder. I open my eyes again, moving a hand to the phantom feeling. The residue of clothing as someone passed me. How long have I been standing in the doorway?

I'm so hot. I think I was enjoying the fan a little too much.

Earlier, I would have done anything to forget that I was naked. Now I cherish every sensation that reminds me of it. The cold, sterile floor of the store steals the heat from my feet with each step. Feeling hotter on my thighs, I adjust the strap on my bag as I stroll through the busy store, flashing my permanent grin at everyone who looks my way.

Strangely, the higher I hold my head, the brighter I smile, the more people's gaze lingers. The more they seem to recognize that it's okay to look.

I want them to look. Gods, I do; I want that.

I step down the central path between the rows of aisles. The knot in my stomach had untied itself, and was wrapping around my heart like a coil. Anticipation has replaced anxiety. Every corner a fresh pulse. Another loop. More warmth spreading from my core.

The shoppers gape at me as I walk. My pace deliberate. Taking my time with each indulgent step. My skin is alight with their attention. Electric flickers all over me, as though I can sense where their gaze falls. I slip my fingers beneath the leg strap and adjust it. My thighs are so hot, but the strap isn't as tight as I

National Nude Daisy: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 12 Jul 2026 16:52:00 +0000

National Nude Daisy: Part 1

A timid waitress dares to bare all on national nude day.

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

Daisy: T minus 8 hours.

I spray cleaner over the table and start wiping. My thin chiffon black shirt rides up, letting the cold metal kiss the strip of exposed skin. I gasp, and my stomach flinches away, but settles against the cool surface. My five-foot-nothing frame can barely reach into the corners, so I rise onto my toes and stretch, raising my hips above the table's edge, and almost folding myself in half.

Perfect.

Gives the people milling about behind me an exaggerated view of my lack-of-ass. I'm fucking 23 years old! Someone tell my ass that it's not on a teenager anymore.

The last customer is dawdling on his way out, and Samantha's work smile twitches on her face as she inches the door closed on the unwanted conversation.

I don't share her enthusiasm.

Today went by in a flash, and tomorrow edges ever closer.

It was written in my diary nearly a month ago. National Nude Day, starting at sunrise.

The one day of the year public nudity is completely legal, instead of technically legal.

What, in all the gods' names, did I agree to?

"You're off tomorrow, right?" Sammie asks, placing a tray on the table next to mine.

My breath stalls. "Yup," I say, trying to act casual. "Going to a festival in the city with my besties."

I had the response rehearsed, so as not to reveal too much. An entertainment website mentioned at least 5 different festivals on the calendar, so I'm safe with that ambiguity.

The real honest event that Sammie cannot be told; A fucking nudist festival I am so not ready for, and definitely not ready for any of my workplace colleagues to know. Can you imagine if they found out? Gods, that would be mortifying.

"Sounds fun, I'm jelly." Sam smiles, hoping I'll give details.

I can hear chatter from the kitchen, so I move to the table I've been saving. Glancing to make sure Sammie isn't watching, I pop the top button of my shirt open and bend over the table. I angle myself toward the kitchen door, pretending I'm not watching it. Pretending I'm not deliberately showing what little cleavage I have, but; Kenny will come out soon.

I'm not a shameless flirt, but I don't know how else to get him to notice me. All I have are these small moments, and even smaller hopes. 'Good morning'. 'See you tomorrow'. That's it. That's all I have.

The door opens, and I freeze.

Breath held.

Tiny chest puffed.

Feeling like an idiot.

The thought of him stealing glances at me, or just noticing me at all, makes me quiver. I can already feel my nips drilling through my bra.

He just strolls out like it's nothing, shaking his hair like a damn shampoo model. My teeth find my lip, and my damn heart flutters like a hummingbird.

"Night," he says, waving. "See you tomorrow, Daisy."

"See you good morning," I blurt out.

My head slams against the table.

Crash. Burn.

"See you good morning?" I mutter. "What the fuck, Daisy. What. The. Fuck."

Sammie laughs. "That was so smooth, Daize."

"Shut Up," I say, throwing the rag at her.

I've had this stupid crush on Kenny since I started working here. He's so sweet, and so very handsome. The way his hair falls down when he takes his hairnet off, ties my stomach into knots.

On my first day, I forgot my lunch and my purse. He literally made me a meal, and even paid for it. I almost cried and decided right then that he would be my husband; boyfriend; we'll kiss one day?

I sigh.

Maybe our hands will brush together at some point? But, since it's a year later and I still haven't said a full coherent sentence to him; Outlook is bleak.

John, the manager, walks out of the office and looks at us. "Daisy, you're opening tomorrow, right?"

"Uh, no? I booked the day off, remember?" I ask.

"Oh yeah, right," he says, rubbing his bald spot. "Sorry, losing track of everything as per."

"We'd be worried about you if you weren't, boss," I say, picking the tray up and walking into the Kenny-less kitchen.

He laughs nervously. "Doing anything nice?"

"She's going to a festival in the city," Sammie answers for me. "I think it's a code for something, because I hadn't heard of anything."

Good. The last thing I need is Sammie running her mouth about it. She's a sweet girl, but a gold medal winning gossip. If she knew, it would be global news within a week. Absolutely not. The workplace rumor is that Sammie and the boss are secretly an item. But neither of them will admit to anything.

Hiding in the kitchen, my hands shake as I wash the cups. My heart is literally vibrating. How did I let my former roomy, Eliza, talk me into this? Why? That girl is too damn convincing for her own good.

For my own good.

Naked. In public?

A chill runs down my spine, and I grasp the stainless steel sink to steady myself.

It'll be fine. I try to convince myself. I'll be fine.

My objectively gorgeous friends will be with me, so no one will even notice me, the pixie ballerina, at all.

Is that better, or worse?

I don't know.

Drying my hands, I walk back through the cafe in a daze. Offering a small, polite smile to John as he holds the door open for me. The streets are full of people. Early evening hour in the center of a massive city. I hate crowds so much. Eclipsed by smartphone screens, I either dart out of the way or get flattened.

Will the streets be this busy tomorrow?

In the three years since the law passed, I haven't seen a single nude person in the city center Or anywhere outside. I suppose that's the English for you. Especially here.

Nudity is definitely not professional enough.

The hour-long train ride home is nerve-wracking. Tomorrow, I'll be an hour away from my clothes. Every seat is full, morning and night. Clinging to the handrail in my usual spot, pressed between half a dozen other commuters. I can't help but imagine tomorrow. My petite, naked self pressed between these same people.

Idle hands grazing unrestricted flesh.

Eliza: T minus 7 hours.

This is so stupid. I'll just make an excuse to Eliza. Not feeling well. Stubbed my toe. Dropped my liver on the way home.

At least the streets on the way back to my flat are clear. That's one benefit of living in the greater metropolitan area. When I turn the corner to my street, I can see Eliza sitting on the wall outside my place. Fiddling with her phone.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, shaking hands fumbling with my keys. I know exactly why she's here. To stop me from backing out.

"I figured you'd be thinking of excuses," she said, hopping off the wall. "So, I'm here to keep you honest;" Eliza pulls a bottle of wine from her bag. "And drunk."

We head inside, and Eliza makes herself at home. She's been my best friend since primary school, and I hate the power she has over me. Not that she's ever used it for evil, but she can shove me way too far outside my comfort zone.

I hate how she's always right.

In the kitchen, Eliza pops the cork and gestures at me with the bottle opener. "Clothes off," she says, raising her eyebrows and nodding expectantly.

My shoulders drop. "Now?" I plead, giving her my best pout. "I'm so tired."

"You can put that lip away for a start," Eliza says, pouring the rosé into the big wine glasses. "Get used to being naked. It'll make tomorrow easier."

"Here," she says, handing me the glass. "A little Italian courage."

Sighing, I take the glass and chug half of it. "That's Australian."

"Really?" she asks, checking the label. "Italian, Australian; I knew it was one of the 'alians'. Regardless, nudity. Now."

Eliza perches on the edge of a chair. Perfectly elegant in her damn power suit. The gray material stretching over her thighs, reminding me how utterly outclassed I am. She sips from the giant glass and wiggles her fingers at me.

"Fine; fine." I resign myself.

Kicking my shoes off first, I get the easy part out of the way. The black skirt go next, and they are half-way down my thighs before I even question why I'm obeying her. The cool air on my bare legs makes them clench.

She's really going to make me do this.

My shaking fingers move to the shirt next. It has enough buttons to delay, building that agonizing coil in my gut. Every loose button exposes me more. I feel sick, but I can't stop.

Eliza is smirking at me as I fumble with the last button. With a shaking breath, I slide the shirt off my shoulders and let it fall.

"There," I say, adjusting my knickers. Glad for the wine and the warmth it's bringing.

She just rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow. Scolding me without words until my head falls. I know what she wants. Reaching behind me, I unclasp my black 32 B push-up bra and let it hang loose on my shoulders. Giving her one last futile look of silent, rejected pleading, I let the bra fall to the floor. Nipples hard and tingling in the cold. My nipples always over-react.

She stares at me until I slip my thumbs beneath the black nylon lace panties, sliding them to the floor, and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes and dignity.

She didn't even let me keep my thigh-high socks on.

I can feel my skin prickling with the damp evening chill and Eliza's attention. Grasping my arm over my tit and crossing my legs in front of me. A small shake of her head and even those small mercies are stolen.

My lowered hands tap my bare thighs impotently.

She nods. "Good. How do you feel?"

"Naked, cold, naked, and stupid," I say, trying to find that elusive courage in my wineglass.

My head and the glass are tilted way back when I see a flash and hear Eliza's phone camera.

I choke on the mouthful of wine. "Did You Just Take A Picture?"

"Oh, yes. I did," she says. A wide, mischievous grin spreads slowly over her face. "Do you remember Henry?"

The sudden shift in topic throws me. "The guy you were 'dating'?"

"Fucking, yes. Now, his sister's best friend's cousin is dating the best friend of Kenny's brother," she says, her foot is twitching with excitement. "Isn't that interesting?"

"Objection; relevance," I say, in an amateur Horace Rumpole impersonation, while pouring myself another glass. I'm going to need it.

"Overruled." She shifted forward in her seat. "I have Kenny's mobile number," she says, waving her phone at me.

My eyes widen, and I drink more. She wouldn't send that picture to anyone. Would she? No, that's; I mean, I was ever-fantasizing on him seeing everything anyway;

No. No no no. Not like that, not without; you know. My fantasy involves Fondling. The desire is for him to help me out of my clothes.

"Eliza, please. I know you wouldn't share my nudes with my co-worker," I say, almost sounding convinced. "It would spread around the staff. Other cafes. Waitresses talk. Samantha; no you wouldn't."

"Actually, I would, because I know things that you don't."

Eliza stands up and walks over to me, placing her hand on my chin and turning my face toward her. Her hazel eyes glaring deep into me.

She rubs a thumb over my lip, wiping up some spilled wine. "Wonderful things," she says, pressing her lips to her thumb before licking them. "Juicy things, Daisy."

Juicy things? About Kenny? What did she learn? It could be anything. Eliza has a way of extracting information from casual conversations that would make MI6 very interested.

I bite my lip and look up at her smug, smiling face. "Ha-how juicy?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow." She smirks. "Do you still want to back out?"

My chest is so tight every breath I take, shakes me.

I slowly shake my head.

"If you don't want to, you know I'm not going to force you, right?" she asks, kissing me on the head. "I push you because I love you."

I take another large, nervous sip from my glass.

"Daisy, do you remember why you agreed to this?" she asks, slipping her jacket off.

"Uh, no?" I deflect.

Eliza folds her coat and places it on the table. "Because you want to be seen," she says, unzipping her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. "More than that, you want to feel desired. Because you don't even notice when you are, you feel as though you are not."

I watch her fold her skirt and place it on the jacket. Without a single breath of hesitation, her bra and panties join the pile, and I'm left staring at her. I would kill to look like her. She has her mother's Italian genes. I swear she's related to Sophia Loren.

Tall. Leggy. Graceful. And those tits? They defy all reason. This isn't the first time we've seen each other naked. I mean, we've been friends for over a decade, but no matter how often it happens, no matter how hard I look.

I can't find a single flaw.

Not one.

"Tell me," she asks; pouring herself some more wine.

"Just envious of your perfect body," I mutter.

She smiles. "Thank you, but I'm not perfect."

Bullshit. If Eliza walked into my cafe, I would bet an entire week's wages on Kenny asking her out.

Pointing to her left nipple. "This nipple is larger," she says, pinching it and tugging her tit. "but the whole boob is slightly smaller. They are also heavy, as you can imagine double D's would be, so gravity and physics are against me. They hang far lower than I'd like."

Eliza steps over to me; shifts the glass into her other hand, tracing a finger around the circle of my tit. "I would love to have tits as shapely and pert as yours," she says, giving my nipple a playful flick. "And those cute little pink nipples? Daisy, I don't think you realize how envious of you, I am."

Envious of me? Her tiny, dumpy, chronically-single, charity friend? I cock my head and look up at her. She's seriously good at pep talks. My nipple is still tingling where she flicked it. Great. Now I can't stop thinking about it. The warmth from the wine is spreading throughout me, and I can feel that rosy rosé flush on my cheeks and body. The cold air on my skin feels amazing now.

I give Eliza a big hug, which presses my face into her hot skin and soft tits. "Thanks," I whisper. "I'd probably never do anything, if I didn't have you to talk me into it."

She wraps an arm around me, her hand sliding down my back, causing the muscles to twitch and flex with the pleasant tickle that follows.

"I think you were always planning on going through with it," she says, resting her glass on my head. "You just enjoy letting me think I've convinced you. It helps your anxious nerves if you can deflect your bold actions onto a trusted friend's influence."

I carefully pull back to look at her. "How do you figure?"

Eliza smirks again, her eyes flicking down towards my stomach. "You shaved your muffin."

My eyes flick away from her knowing smirk. "I waxed last night," I mutter, hiding my beet face behind a desperate mouthful.

I scamper to my laptop, dodging the accusation. "Hey look at this subject change," I say, booting it up to access a soothing playlist. "Let's not get drunk in silence, hmm?"

The music helps, and I almost forget I'm naked; or at least stop worrying about it. I even dance a little, at Eliza's bemused insistence. All it takes is a bottle and a half to find my courage, and by the time we stumble into our twin beds, I'm actually excited to show everything to the world.

Until;

Alarms. Daylight. Hangover. T plus 1 hour.

I wake engulfed by Eliza. The first attempt to open my eyes is punished by the morning. Eliza is now in my bed.

Learning my lesson, I lean closer, retreating into the comfort of her cleavage. She stirs to draw me in, and I wonder why I even tried to move at all.

If only that incessant beeping would fuck off. We have a rule against turning off each other's alarms. She almost lost her job when I turned off her alarm, a few months ago.

The beeping continues until Eliza groans and slaps my bedside table, then the lamp, finally killing the alarm. We both melt back into each other, sighing in the silence. It's 7am.

"Coffee. Please, bring me coffee," she mumbles, pulling the blanket over both of our heads.

I open my eyes beneath the cover, wiping the crust from my lashes. My cheek is wet, so I rub my face on the blanket and mop my drool from her chest. After checking she isn't looking, of course.

Sliding out of bed, I rest my feet on the floor and stare at them. I don't want to be awake. I want to be asleep in the warm boobs. Standing up, a challenge in its own right, I'm chilled and painfully pulled out of my slumber by the cold morning air. I waddle toward the kitchen. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror that slaps the fog away.

Bare skin.

We're going into the fucking city, naked. Today.

I drag my hands through my hair as I shuffle into the kitchen. "You can do it, Daisy," I mumble, flicking the kettle on. "You want to do it. Don't let the fear beat you."

That's easier said than done. If I was being totally honest, the idea of it excites me a little. Just a little. The novelty of it. It's daring, and I'm never that. But; it's also terrifying.

What if someone takes a picture?

If they post it online, boom; Everyone I know has my nudes and I'm a floozy; A desperate pariah. A slut. Banned from all the church social events, and doomed to never find a respectable husband.

Which is just my life in a 'slut' shell.

I fill the cups with some strong, milky coffees. Three scoops. Extra milk. Guzzle-safe. Stumbling back to the bedroom, I see Eliza stretching in front of the opened curtains. She has no shame.

None.

"What are you doing?" I ask, offering a cup. "What if the neighbors see?"

Eliza smirks. "Daisy, we'll be walking out of here naked. They're going to see."

Oh shit. That's right. That's; A lot of the neighbors now have street facing cameras.

Oh fuck.

This will not be some quick thing that goes away. Things will never be the same. I chug the cup while catastrophising. From now until the day I move, every look I get, every smile, every nod, every 'good morning'; I'm going to be wondering if that neighbor saw me. If they have actual footage of my unmentionables.

Would they jerk it looking at me? Do I want that?

It would be nice to feel; desirable? Sexy? But what if it's not even hot enough for them to jack off to?

This is stupid, but it might be nice to be sexualized for once. Not in a gross way, but feeling pretty, or even just comfortable in my skin.

The way Eliza is.

My heart goes into overdrive as we get ready. Showering, brushing our teeth, doing our hair and make-up. The most mundane things, but they're a countdown. When each new thing is finished, I'm one step closer to the moment all my walls come crashing down.

Can you actually die from embarrassment?

Eliza, fucking Eliza, is as calm as I've ever seen her. Perfectly applying her perfect lipstick to her stupid, perfect lips. Her hands aren't even shaking. How? Was she a robot this whole time?

"I got you something," she says, sliding a ribbon-tied box from her handbag. "I have one to match."

Inside is a small, rustic leather bag with two straps.

"A leg bag?" I ask, watching as she pulls a larger one, unwrapped, from her handbag.

Eliza takes the bag from me. "You needed somewhere to keep your sundries," she says, kneeling and fastening the belt and leg strap. "Y

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 11 Jul 2026 18:42:00 +0000

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3

More Valentines Days.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

The guilt provoked by Mr. Jacobs' observation was fleeting, and Emily texted me 3 days later, "Can we have another Valentine's Day tonight?"

It was clear that the charade was over, and 'Valentine's Day' was her chosen euphemism for spending less-than-wholesome time together. Our relationship had become a dichotomy of two very different and compartmentalized romances. One of a pure and honorable public courtship, and the other of two young lovers clandestinely exploring physical passions.

"Yes, 7?"

"See you then."

This time I locked the side door while we were closing the store, then unlocked it for Emily after Mr. Jacobs left.

I thought about our new paradigm while saut ing some chicken then slicing it over the top of two Caesar salads. We were no longer pretending that our physical explorations were isolated happenstantial occurrences. The primary purpose of the night was clear, and I decided I might as well plan for it.

An erection was imminent, and I decided to change clothes rather than risk being painfully bound-up in my jeans again. I rummaged through drawers and hanging clothes, carefully considering the functional benefits of each piece while also not wanting to appear too overtly presumptuous. Ultimately, I decided on a pair of loose-fitting linen pants, and a nice front-pocket t-shirt.

I think Emily had the same idea. She arrived wearing a well-coordinated athletic outfit that was very fashionable, but very out of character for her. She wore white running shoes with low-cut ankle socks, a well-fitted white Lululemon zip-down hoodie, and baby-blue Lululemon yoga leggings that ended a few inches above her ankles.

I had seen Emily in a variety of very attractive dresses and skirts, but nothing that revealed the shape of her body like those leggings. They fit like a second skin and clearly showed every soft curve of her legs and butt. The sight was incredibly sexy, and I stared unabashedly as she hung up her winter coat and came to greet me in the kitchen.

We met in an all-consuming embrace and I lifted her into my arms. She added support by wrapping her legs around my hips and we began hungrily kissing, tongues eagerly intertwining.

I was not interested at all in the salads sitting on the counter and carried Emily over to the sofa. Her legs loosened their grip on me and, with our mouths still joined, I bent forward to place her on the floor. She guided me backward into a slouched seating position and climbed over me to sit straddled over my left thigh, in the same way we had a few days ago.

As each second passed, our desires grew and inhibitions loosened. In the midst of our urgent kissing, Emily began slowly and deliberately rocking her pelvis on my leg, and my hands boldly slid over her hips to encourage their motions.

The erotic scenario brought physical sensations on a level that I had never experienced before. I could feel my erection obscenely tenting the thin fabric of my pants, and my balls hanging heavily between my legs. Both were hyper-sensitive to every subtle movement, and my completely engorged cock throbbed with every beat of my pulse.

I loved feeling the motions of Emily's hips in my hands but yearned for more direct contact than I could have through the thick cloth of her hoodie. My large hands clumsily attempted to slide under the snuggly stretched tails without success.

Sensing my intentions, Emily pulled away from our kissing and maintained eye contact while she sat upright on my thigh. Without a spoken word, she unzipped and discarded the hoodie to reveal a thin, strappy sports bra matching the baby-blue color of her leggings.

Her eyes watched mine as they surveyed the amazing sight before me. The bra concealed two compressed mounds that appeared proportionate in size to her very petite frame, with subtle curves of cleavage extending above its swooping neckline. My eyes soaked in her feminine form above and below the bra, absorbing the softly toned body and flawless flushed skin revealed to me for the very first time.

She watched as I admired her in amazement, "You are so beautiful."

Without saying anything, she laid herself back on top of me and our mouths passionately met again. My hands went to her hips, feeling every curve through the thin fabric leggings and directing her to resume rocking on my leg.

She did, and her motions quickly evolved from rocking into a firm rhythmic grinding. Shortly thereafter, our kissing stopped and we pressed our foreheads together, both breathing heavily with mouths inches apart.

I could feel heat building on my thigh, emanating from both her legging covered folds and the friction of her intensifying pressure. Our eyes locked, Emily placed her hands on my chest and pushed her torso upright to adjust the angle of her grinding. She continued supporting herself on my chest while my hands slid up the sides of her thin waist and intuitively palmed her bra covered breasts, kneading them the best I could through the restrictive fabric.

Emily intensified her grinding and the combined stimulation sent her to a new level, eyes rolling backward and body tremoring while she lost control. One hand still supported herself on my chest, but the other unconsciously dropped downward and grasped my fabric covered cock.

The mere touch of her hand triggered my own reaction, tightening my balls and soaking my linen pants with copious surges of cum. I looked down in horror to see the messy results of my eruption, but also saw a large darkening blue circle in the crotch of Emily's leggings.

I looked upward from the sights and smells of our fornication and met Emily's eyes. We silently stared at each other for several minutes, telepathically sharing a complex and confusing mix of lust, shock, and guilt.

Eventually, Emily dismounted my leg and did her best to make herself presentable before leaving. We said goodbye with a timid hug, uneaten salads still on the kitchen counter.

Guilt.

We both knew we crossed a sinful line that night, and I think we were both scared. It wasn't sex in the traditional sense of the word, and we were technically both still virgins, but our actions were clearly outside the acceptable boundaries of Biblical purity and integrity. I know I was scared for several reasons but, most of all, scared that our relationship may have been permanently damaged. I wasn't the spiritual leader she wanted me to be, and I wasn't strong enough to maintain her purity.

Over the next 12 hours, I vacillated between wanting to address the issue head-on and wanting to bury my head in the sand to ignore it. Around noon the next day, I manned-up enough to do the right thing and texted Emily, "Can you stop by the store this afternoon?"

"Yes. What's up?"

"I think we should talk about last night."

My phone rang a few seconds later with a voice call. It was Emily.

"Hi Michael."

"Hey."

"I can stop by the store, but I'm not ready to talk about last night."

I started to protest, "I'm so sorry. I'm worried I ruined;”

She interrupted firmly but compassionately, "Stop!; Michael, I love you. Nothing that happened last night changed that. I wanted everything that happened just as much as you did, if not more. You are not to blame. If anybody, I was the instigator."

"But I;”

She interjected again, "Michael!; I have a lot of conflicting feelings and I'm not ready to talk yet. I'll let you know when I am. Until then, please know that I love you and I don't want this to be an awkward thing between us. It's just something that we need to figure out together."

"Ok, I love you too."

We ended our phone call, and my phone chimed a text alert a few seconds later, "I'll stop by around 4. I love you."

I typed back, "See you then. I love you too."

Emily did stop by the store that day and it was surprisingly relaxed and comfortable. We talked about current happenings with school and our friends, just like we had during any of her past social visits to the store. Mr. Jacobs was there and even commented how he enjoyed Emily's visits and seeing us together, to which we both smiled in appreciation.

Vivid Dreams.

The 'public courtship' portion of our relationship continued as normal over the next days and weeks, spending time together as we always had, though I was admittedly self-conscious and sheepish during Sunday afternoon dinners at her parents' house.

I mentally declared the end of 'Valentine's Day' and prayed constantly for the health of our relationship, patiently waiting for Emily to be ready to talk. My determination for future integrity was strong and steadfast; for about a week. After that, occasional flashbacks of passion and physical pleasure began creeping into my thoughts, and slowly started eroding my resolve. Several nights, I awoke from very vivid and unwholesome dreams with painful throbbing erections, effectively eliminating any remaining willpower I may have had.

Coincidentally, about 3-weeks after our night of debauchery, I had just woken up from a night of graphic dreams when my phone chimed with an early-morning text from Emily.

"Valentine's Day tonight?"

I had little resistance to the idea while lying in bed with a rock-hard erection, but still felt the need to offer at least a minimal fa ade of reluctance.

"Are you sure?"

She replied immediately, "Yes, I miss V-day."

"Me too. 7?"

"See you then!"

My anticipation escalated exponentially as time slowly ticked forward and I went about my typical daily activities. I needed a distraction from watching the clock and soaked in some sun between classes and work by walking to the grocery store.

It happened to be an unseasonably warm April day with temperatures in the upper 70s, and the town was alive with people emerging from winter hibernation. Students studied on blankets and played lawn games in the campus quad, while an abundance of bikers and joggers overtook the local streets and sidewalks.

After Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, I went upstairs to find the apartment was sweltering. I opened the front windows and quickly changed into a t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting breathable gym shorts. The gentle breeze slowly brought indoor temperatures down as I assembled two salads using a mix of spring greens, grilled chicken, dried cherries, candied pecans, gorgonzola cheese, and a raspberry vinaigrette.

Emily arrived promptly at 7 o'clock wearing a very cute little sundress and white designer sneakers. The pastel mint-green dress was made of a light-weight linen fabric and had a fluttering bottom hem that ended a few inches above her knees. Thin spaghetti straps crisscrossed over her exposed shoulder blades and reconnected to the dress fabric midway down her back, low enough for me to recognize she couldn't be wearing a bra. The dress wasn't overly revealing by most standards but was definitely more adventurous than Emily's typically modest outfits.

"Wow, you look incredible!"

She gave me a flirtatious smile and said, "I'm glad you approve. I was thinking about you when I bought it."

I responded with a teasing, "Oh really;” and pulled her into my arms for a hello kiss that turned into four or five.

Breaking our kisses, I pointed at the bowls on the counter and said, "Let's eat before we; get too distracted."

Emily laughed and we sat at the kitchen table to eat our salads, chatting like the best friends we had become. Conversation flowed easily despite our recent complexities and was testament that our relationship was grounded and true. I felt closer to her than ever.

When finished, we both stood and placed our respective dishes in the kitchen sink. Emily turned to step away, but I quickly grabbed her by the waist and she squealed in surprise when I lifted her to sit on the edge of the counter. I stood between her legs, gazed into her eyes, and proclaimed from the depth of my heart, "I love you Emily Fulton."

I immediately pressed my lips against hers and she responded by wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching her legs around my waist. The slow, deep, passionate kisses that followed were an honest and true expression of our pure love, and nothing less.

Those first kisses filled with gentle romantic passion gradually evolved into more eager desire, our tongues exploring each other's mouths and searching for a greater depth of joining. I wrapped my arms around Emily's waist and lifted her from the counter, her arms and legs clutching me tight.

She giggled playfully as I collapsed backward on the sofa, her landing on top of me, straddled over my lap. Our kissing continued with her body pressed fully against mine, my hands roaming her back and enjoying the soft skin exposed by the open-back dress.

Emily occasionally shifted the weight of her hips from side to side as we made out. I sensed that maybe the position was uncomfortable for her, and asked between kisses, "Are you ok?"

She sat upright on my lap and reached for the bottom of her dress, "I'm fine, the dress is just bunched up and I can't move."

She planted her knees on either side of my lap and lifted upward to pull the dress out from underneath herself, revealing a quick glimpse of white low-rise bikini-style panties. At the same time, I took the opportunity to reach into my shorts and adjust my fully engorged cock to a more comfortable position, pointing the swollen head toward my stomach and utilizing the elastic waistband of my shorts to hold it in place.

Emily watched intently as I adjusted myself then momentarily studied the resulting bulge before pressing herself back against me. My length was firmly sandwiched between us and the feel of her body against mine was an indescribable new experience, even though it was through a few layers of fabric.

As we renewed our make-out session, Emily was enjoying the feel of my cock pressing into her stomach and slowly began inching her way up my body. When her mons came to rest over the base of my shaft, she began slowly rolling her hips forward in an effort to gain better contact with her panty-covered pussy. After repeated attempts without the desired effect, she momentarily pulled away from our kissing and very purposely shifted further upward to place her womanly heat squarely on the middle of my shaft.

She intently rocked her pelvis forward and backward, nestling my girth between her folds as much as the cotton barrier would allow, then increased her movement to slide up and down the length of the shaft. My hands instinctively moved to Emily's hips to reinforce her motions, then more boldly slid to cup and squeeze her ass.

The physics of her motions, and my erection's desire to stand upright, worked in concert to move the elastic waistband downward from where it had secured my cock against my stomach. The exposure was hidden from view by the hem of her sundress, but I easily distinguished the new sensation of her warm, wet cotton panties rubbing directly on the sensitive underside of my shaft.

We gazed lustfully into each other's eyes, heavily inhaling and exhaling, as Emily sat upright and wantonly pleasured herself on my length and girth. The movements pulled at the fabric of her sundress, rhythmically becoming taut with each cycling motion and imprinting her stiff nipples through the thin fabric. The temptation was too much, and my hands slid up the sides of her torso to cover her breasts through the dress.

Emily kept her eyes locked on mine when she brushed my hands away, then slipped the thin spaghetti straps off her shoulders allowing the top of the dress to fall away and pool around her waist. She continued grinding on my cock and watched intently as I took in the sight of her naked breasts for the first time. The perky mounds were in perfect proportion to her tiny frame and jostled slightly with each of her pelvic thrusts.

My fixation was interrupted by the longing in her voice, "Touch me Michael."

The luxuriously tender pillows conformed to the curvature of my hands, slightly puffy areolas and hardened nipples pressing into my palms. I kneaded them with fascination as Emily hastened her pelvic motions and vigorously crushed our genitals together with all her body weight. The product of her arousal copiously soaking through the thin panties and generously lubricating our 'dry' mating.

I cupped her breasts with my hands and squeezed them such that her nipples were gently pinched between my thumbs and forefingers.

The erotic sensations sent both of us over the edge. Emily's movements on my shaft became erratic and her entire body began trembling in the throes of orgasm. Simultaneously, my heavily swollen balls constricted and a torrent of cum surged through my cock, pumping stream after stream of milky fluid into the sundress that still draped over our joined mid-sections.

Emily collapsed onto my chest and laid motionless, only rising and falling with the movements of my chest as we both attempted to catch our breath. Once our breathing slowed, she spoke somewhat exhaustedly, "You didn't let me answer you earlier. I love you too, Michael Walker."

We laid together in post-orgasmic bliss for several minutes, lightly kissing and caressing. The repercussions weren't immediate like they were a few weeks before, but they did come.

We were both hit with the carnal reality of the situation when Emily climbed off me and we saw the front of her sundress completely soaked with a combination of our sexual fluids. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but the lewdly soiled dress was a graphic trigger for our guilt and shame.

We didn't have any way of cleaning and drying the dress in a reasonable amount of time, so we placed it in a grocery bag for her to take back to the dorm. Luckily, we had a small selection of women's gardening clothes in the hardware store, so Emily wrapped herself in a towel and we went down to the second floor, requisitioning a pair of women's overalls and a t-shirt.

It was better than nudity, but the ill-fitting clothing was an obvious sign that something was wrong, and it wouldn't be difficult for friends to figure out what was going on. We just hoped we could get her back to the dorm without someone noticing.

I led the way, walking a fair distance ahead of Emily and giving a signal behind my back if I saw someone approaching. On my cue, she would duck behind a tree, shrub, building, or other form of cover until they passed.

Our system worked well, but it could only go so far. Men weren't allowed in the women's dorm, so she would have to make the last leg of the journey on her own. We peered through the glass entryway and only saw the front desk student-worker who happened to be distracted with an iPad and earbuds. Emily made a break for it, quickly opening the door and scampering through the lobby until I lost sight of her.

I lingered outside the dorm for what seemed like forever before receiving a text, "Made it. Had to hide in the stairway for a couple minutes. Nobody saw me."

"Ok, good."

The adrenaline of sneaking Emily home faded as I walked back to the apartment, and it was replaced by the oppressive weight of guilt and remorse. Not only had I yielded to weakness and temptation, but we had broken even the most liberal definitions of Christian integrity and purity. Certainly privately, and almost publicly.

Overwhelmed by Guilt.

I skipped my classes the next morning and laid in bed, wallowing in my guilt. Emily must have been doing the same, because I received a text from one of her friends asking if she was ok. She wasn't in class and wasn't answering her phone.

I called and she answered immediately, though with a somber voice, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I didn't feel like going."

"Me either."

"Emily, we have to talk about Valentine's Day. We both know what we're doing is wrong; we can't keep going on this roller coaster of euphoria and guilt."

She cried, and spoke in a trembling voice between sniffles, "I know; but; it doesn't feel wrong; when; we're together."

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 10 Jul 2026 18:41:00 +0000

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity.

The group consisted of students from very conservative Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation, abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc.

Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian' guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation.

"Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of 'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a date."

She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally, I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment leading to marriage."

She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being na ve since I've never dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship is defined by God's larger plan."

My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly discovered context.

Emily’s note initiative.

The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one. She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved goodbye as she walked out of the store.

The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note.

Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell phone number.

I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step in our friendship.

I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I work until 6."

I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?"

My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you are leaving the store."

Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving.

The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line.

She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights, and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward.

When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and, within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash.

Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand.

She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!"

After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?"

"Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special needs children."

"That's great, but why thank me?"

"Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own community."

She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and joy in her voice.

The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together.

After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked, "Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say anything during the discussion."

We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart without giving any thought to what I was saying.

"Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study God's intent for it."

Emily started to interject, "You're;” but truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought.

"I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er; complications; of traditional dating."

Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested, "Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone knows that pretty much immediately without dating."

Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about feeling attraction right away."

She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice, but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship.

I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject."

Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more mundane topics of conversation.

Thinking and Praying.

I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily.

The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in 3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware.

I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation.

I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?"

She responded a few minutes later, "Yes."

"Hardware store at 6?"

"K"

Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag.

The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door and flipping the lock?"

"Sure."

She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap.

I had been building up courage for the conversation all day and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk.

"I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out before you respond."

Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands.

"Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your life."

My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends; but I'm scared;”

Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;”

I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing, "I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you, very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer."

We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope you can forgive;”

She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears. You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you."

We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms, my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest.

Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer."

I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too.

Unspoken Understanding.

Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year.

I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock room where I was busy opening boxes.

There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had the same location and orientation on each item.

We worked well together and made it through most of the boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too haphazardly for her liking.

"Hey! Give me that!"

I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while holding the gun over her head.

She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker.

She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!"

I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about $5.99."

She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms.

I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my legs and torso.

Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing through the building.

Separation Woes.

Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly that summer, sharing every little detail about our days.

True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers, acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ.

When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city' restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next larger town a half hour away.

It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger.

The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact, they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high school student they had hired and come to trust.

Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together.

Talking to Her Father.

Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father.

The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality.

Professors were required by the college to hold open office hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon with a firm response of, "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr. Fulton."

He started flipping through some papers on his desk and spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses this term?"

I felt the unconscious need to match his formality, "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact you outside of office hours?"

Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?"

"It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing, Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger plans for us."

I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to pursue a relationship with Emily."

"Define relationship."

"Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage."

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have you talked about this with Emily?"

"We talked about our growing feelings for each other before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to ask her tomorrow."

"Are you committed to the Biblical model of marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"That includes being the spiritual leader in the relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and upholding her purity before marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well then. You have my permission."

He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I suspect I'll be hearing news soon.&quo

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 09 Jul 2026 18:39:00 +0000

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

Two young Christians exploring love and passion.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my surreal surroundings.

The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber emanating from beneath the duvet.

While my senses are filled by the early morning experience, treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head.

My childhood.

God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry. Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family and our basic day-to-day needs were met.

There were a few local main street businesses that were the economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they gossiped.

Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational roles in my life.

The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs. Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee. Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at their house or ours.

Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and, when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the son they never had.

The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older. As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was helpful at the hardware store.

After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer. School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort.

What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults, but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl.

When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store, answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects. Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit purchases for customers that were billed monthly.

I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr. and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at church.

Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world. There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall.

Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling on the subject.

Becoming a Man.

By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage the store.

During that year, I began to think about life after high school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a future family, on a store clerk's wages.

My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was money.

My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look more and more attractive.

Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep praying for God's guidance.

I took her advice to heart and explored various community colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their tuitions rates were astronomical.

My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue with that?

Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom.

My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that I would regret it for the rest of my life. She wouldn't accept no for answer and said she would make arrangements for me to take her coworker's daughter, Bridget, to Prom. I continued protesting and told her that I could find my own date, but I didn't want to go to any high school dance, Prom or otherwise. However, mom was relentless and I eventually resigned myself to the fact I wasn't going to win the argument.

My statement about finding my own date was a partial truth. Thanks to family genes, I was a fairly good-looking guy and occasionally drew the interest of girls around my age. Moving and lifting of heavy items at the hardware store had slowly evolved my body from that of a scrawny child into a muscular, well-defined 6'-3" young man with softly chiseled facial features. Unfortunately, any female attention I received because of my physical appearance was quickly repelled by my awkward and unconfident nature.

Prom was an absolute disaster. Set-up dates are awkward under any circumstances, but Bridget was very shy and just as socially backward as me. We were simply a bad combination and spent the first part of the night standing off to the side of the dance floor fidgeting nervously and trying not to make eye contact with each other. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask her to dance when the band began playing a slow ballad. She reluctantly accepted.

We slowly shuffled around in circles, clumsily looking for appropriate hand placements and keeping plenty of distance between our bodies. Thankfully, our respective friends rescued us shortly after the song ended and we amicably parted ways.

Recruited.

Envelopes with college and university logos began appearing in the family mailbox about a month before graduation. I had a perfect GPA, so it wasn't a surprise that they were all letters of acceptance. However, what I didn't expect was that most of them also included offers of significant scholarships and financial aid. I was ecstatic to learn Powell College offered an 80% no-repayment scholarship, which made my "top-pick" school a realistic possibility. I excitedly told my parents then immediately raced over to the hardware store to tell Mrs. Burkee.

A few days later, I closed the hardware store and went home to find the Burkee's and my parents playing their regular Friday night Euchre game at the kitchen table. They all greeted me as I walked in the house and, with a strange look on his face, my dad said somewhat ominously, "Sit down son, Mr. & Mrs. Burkee would like to talk to you about something."

I nervously pulled up a chair and waited patiently while they finished the last couple tricks of the hand. Mom updated the score and dad started reshuffling the cards while Mr. Burkee spoke.

"Mike, you did a great job managing the store while we were on the cruise last winter and, well, we really enjoyed the time away. I have a proposition for you."

I listened intently as he continued, "We would like to go on an extended vacation this summer. Go out west to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore; maybe even try our luck in Vegas. We haven't planned it out yet so we're not sure how long we'll be gone, but I'm guessing 3 or 4 weeks for a road trip like that. So; We would like you to manage the store while we're away."

I was more than happy to do so and started to respond, but Mrs. Burkee cut me off before I got any words out, "However, you won't receive your normal hourly wage while we're gone;”

I looked at her quizzically and waited for her to continue after a faux dramatic pause, "Instead, John and I will pay the 20% of Powell's tuition that the scholarship doesn't cover, and also help you out with books and course fees."

I was quickly doing calculations in my head. Their proposal was easily worth 4 times what I would earn at my normal gross hourly rate, not even considering taxes. I sat speechless with a stunned look on my face. Here was the answer to my prayers. God had provided.

Mrs. Burkee excitedly continued, "I know you really want to go to Powell. You're an amazing young man and we want you to follow your dreams."

Mr. Burkee echoed her thoughts and added, "You've worked your tail off for 4 years, more so than we could ask of any employee. This isn't a gift. You've earned it."

I looked over at my parents. My mom was beaming and my dad had a 'gotcha' look on his face. Apparently, he thought it was funny to bait me at the beginning of the conversation.

I slowly responded, "I; I don't know what to say. That's very generous."

I think Mrs. Burkee was even more excited than me and blurted out, "Just say yes!" So, I did.

Cap & Gown.

High school graduation and the following summer went by in a blur. Amid preparing to move away to Powell, I also managed to keep attending my weekly Bible study and maintain status quo at the hardware store while Mr. & Mrs. Burkee were on vacation. Before I knew it, I was loading up my car and saying heartfelt goodbyes to all my friends and family, and especially to the Burkee's for all they had done over the past years.

After arriving at Powell, I quickly settled into my dorm room on the first day, then spent the second day on campus searching for a job. Despite my tuition being 100% covered, I still needed to pay for room & board and needed some spending money.

Naturally, my first stop was the local downtown hardware store where I spoke briefly with the owner, a stern-looking man in his late 50s, Mr. Jacobs. He looked at me skeptically and gruffly asked if I had any experience. I modestly told him that I worked at the hardware store in my hometown. He asked for a contact person, which I gave, and he said he would get back to me.

I spent the rest of the day applying for jobs anywhere that had a posting, though I needn't have. Mr. Jacobs called me first thing the next morning to say he talked to Mr. Burkee, and I was hired.

Higher Ed.

I settled into a routine of classes and work over the next few weeks. My inquisitive mind yearned for new knowledge from both sources and I soaked it up like a sponge. The coursework was more challenging and took more effort than in high school, but was still manageable and left adequate time for about 20 hours a week at the hardware store.

Between the hardware store paycheck, some help from my parents, and a moderate size student loan, I would be able to cover the cost of room & board and my general living expenses. Once again, God provided.

During those first few weeks, I also began attending Faith Bible Church, which was located a couple blocks from the hardware store. It was a typical church in many ways, but also had a large college-age ministry given its proximity to Powell's campus. They had a worship service on Sunday morning and a variety of study and support groups throughout the week, including a 'young adult' (a.k.a. college student) study group on Wednesday evenings that they called Next Gen, just NG for short.

Due to my schedule at the hardware store, it was a few weeks into school before I could attend my first Wednesday NG study. I followed signs through the church building into a large lounge area furnished like an oversized but cozy living room, complete with an artificial electric fireplace. I would guess there were about 40-50 students socializing in informal clusters around the room. I recognized a couple students from my engineering classes and decided they would be my safest point of entry into this new group.

My eyes casually scanned the room looking for other familiar faces as I purposefully walked toward my engineering classmates, that is until I plowed into someone. My hands instinctively reached out to steady whoever I just clobbered and grasped the shoulders of an extremely petite girl. I looked down to see a bob of strawberry-blond hair face-planted into the lower portion of my chest.

Socially horrified, I quickly stepped backward and squeaked out a timid, "Sorry. Are you ok?"

The girl's head tilted upward to reveal pure beauty with amazing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Ignoring my question and the clumsy circumstance, she cheerily thrust her hand out to shake mine, "I'm Emily! Emily Fulton. I haven't seen you here before so I was just coming to say hello."

A pang of nervousness clenched my stomach as her delicate hand came to rest in my big mitt "Hi, I'm Michael; er; Mike."

"Nice to meet you Michael," she said emphasizing my formal name, then warmly continued, "I saw you at worship service the last couple Sundays, but you left before I could catch you."

I stood with Emily's soft hand in mine, frozen in an awkward conversational pause and unable to formulate an intelligent response.

Again, she ignored my ineptness and continued, "I'm glad you came to NG tonight! I'm a Freshman at Powell, but I grew up in this church and already know most of the students here. Let me introduce you to some people."

Her hand slipped from our handshake as she turned and began walking toward a group on the far side of the room. I followed behind, curiously observing Emily's petite form as her short legs took 2 energetic steps for every one of my lazy strides.

While small, her 4'-11" body was perfectly proportioned, and her tastefully conservative attire gave an impression of style and elegance not exhibited by other students in the room. Tasteful white shorts highlighted subtly athletic legs and graceful hips, while a tailored pastel-blue sleeveless blouse accentuated her narrow waist and modest chest.

Emily proceeded to introduce me to nearly everyone in the room before the study began, skillfully prompting conversation and filling awkward pauses in a way that made me feel at ease. That continued into the Bible study as we sat in adjacent armchairs and she effortlessly integrated me into the group discussions.

As the study ended and people began to informally mingle again, Emily turned toward me in her chair with a genuine smile, "I'm really glad you came tonight. Will I see you Sunday morning?"

The inquiry was rote social courtesy for most people, but Emily's smile and voice radiated true sincerity that meant much more than the face value of the words. The genuine kindness caught me a bit off guard and I stumbled a response, "Ye; yes, I'll be here Sunday."

She enthusiastically replied, "Great! I'll see you then!" and moved to join a group of her friends across the room.

School Work.

Over the following weeks, I fell into a routine and became integrated into life at Powell, Faith Bible, and Jacobs Hardware. Classes were going well, and the hardware store atmosphere felt like a reunion with an old friend. Whatever tensions I had melted away when I entered through the old, creaky screen door on Main Street.

At church, I began to build friendships with a few of the guys in NG and, on more Sundays and Wednesdays than not, Emily would initiate a few minutes of friendly conversation with me. Over the course of those brief chats, I learned she was an Early Childhood Education major, her dad was a tenured seminary professor at Powell, she was a cheerleader and president of the quiz bowl team in high school, and; she always dressed impeccably. In turn, I told her about my

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 08 Jul 2026 18:14:00 +0000

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

Chloe Goes Bat-Shit Crazy, then resorts to stalking.

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

Chloe hopped out of bed and went to grab the drinks. On the way to the kitchen she thought not only had she not had Dave use a condom but she had him in her apartment. Both of those were pretty high on her list of things not to do. Her well-fucked cunt was leaking a long stream of juice down past her knees, by the time she had refreshments dished up. When she came back with the beverages she also had a bowl full of red and green grapes. They sat cross legged on the bed and ate the grapes and re-hydrated.

"When we first got in the apartment you said you were horny and would explain later.

"I guess I did. Well, it started last night"

Chloe took a good part of an hour detailing the long string of bad luck and fluke circumstances from her 2 days of cock trolling. By the time she was finished he was rolling on the bed laughing. "Wow!" he exclaimed; "and I thought I had a fucked up night."

She was flat on her back, laughing right along with him and said, "The only reason I can laugh about it is because of your failed attempt at mugging me. The night has turned out so much better than I thought it was going to, that's for sure. My craving for a good cunt-pounding was driving me nuts, but it was so thoroughly rewarded by finding and seducing you, Sir David.”

He got up on his knees next to her and looking down said, "And it doesn't look like it's over yet." Referring to the turgid flag pole extended over her lovely tit.

"Well look who decided to join us.” She turned her head and kissed the red bulbous head. “Let's get him wrapped up shall we?" she asked reaching into her nightstand for a condom.

The sex was very good. He was a considerate lover and induced her huge orgasm; and then brought her along for an even bigger one, when he climaxed. When he pulled out, she peeled off the condom and dropped in into the bedside wastebasket.

He pulled her over until she was lying with an arm and a leg draped over him.

"That was very nice," Dave said, "Do you mind if I take a little nap? When I wake up I'll slip out."

"First of all," she said grabbing her phone, "put your number in this. I'll give you a few days to get a new phone and I'll call you."

She looked at him for a moment and thought to herself, well I've broken two of my rules tonight, why not a third.

"I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night. Tomorrow's Sunday, we could go for brunch somewhere." She found she was holding her breath waiting for his reply. This was her bravest and most insecure moment of taking initiative and risk.

"Much as I would love that, I have to get home early, to get Sharon to church."

Chloe reeled back from him, then put both her feet into his ribs and pushed. She couldn't knock him all the way out of bed but he got the hint and scrambled out the far side.

"You miserable son of a bitch, get the hell out."

"Let me explain," he begged.

"Go choke your own chicken, bastard," she yelled pointing toward the door.

He quickly dressed and left the bedroom. She followed him naked to the front door. He fumbled with the three locks on her door and she shoved him out of the way, got them unlocked and jerked the door open.

He was half way through the door when he stopped. No; by god, once tonight was enough. He stepped back into her apartment and pulling the door out of her hand, gently closed and locked it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm calling the police," she yelled. If anything her volume had increased.

Very firm and reasonably he said, "No, no you're not. You are going to sit down while I explain a few things to you."

"I am not interested in anything you might have to say." It was a classic Hallmark Movie scene of Chloe being the over-reacting dingbat chic, feeling insecure about giving her heart away, then impulsively assuming the worst in a decent guy.

"Well Chloe," he began softly, "I think there are things you should be aware of so please sit down." Then he roared, "And shut the fuck up, for the love of God!"

This startled Chloe so much she actually submitted to his strong male assertiveness. She shut up and looked at him. His face was a mask of anguish. She silently sank down onto her sofa. David disappeared down the hallway and soon reappeared with the comforter from her bed. He draped it around her and then sat down in the armchair.

"I was already accused of a lot of things that weren't true, tonight. I gave up on that other bat-shit crazy chic, because she was not worth fighting for. You on the other hand, I think, are worth fighting for. So, from the top, I am not married and have no kids. My ex, Brittany, was compatible for a while, but eventually didn't like being married and feeling tied down.

I met Brittany when we were in college. She was a foreign student, here on an academic visa. She was passionate about us and we married a week after completing our grad studies. That was 4 years ago.

Two years ago she was granted citizenship. Three weeks later she took off. I haven't seen her since. A month after she left I got divorce papers. We had a prenup and she got nothing of mine.

I work in the financial district, actually I'm in arbitrage, and make a ton of money. I just resumed dating a few months ago and tonight was the fourth date with bat shit crazy lady.

Now, I don't owe you anything and you don't owe me anything. We just happened to meet each other and have the best night of my life. If I gave you a good time too, that's great. I repeat; I am not married and I am not in any type of relationship, with anyone. The only thing I can be rightly accused of is being a divorced man.

I'm sorry, I didn't mention that as I was being dragged up here by my cock. I didn't think it was germane to the situation. The 'Sharon' I have to take to church is my German Shepard. The church is at the nursing home where my mom lived until she died. I used to take Sharon to see my mom, and the staff convinced me to keep bringing my dog in as pet therapy for the lonely residents who were my mother's last friends. Sunday is our day for that. Just after the residents have breakfast.

Thank you for your time and patience."

She sat there stunned while he got up and unlocked the door. He opened the door and have her a long sad look and was gone. She hung her head and started crying. She woke up the next morning in her bed, but did not remember moving from the sofa. She only left her bed that day to pee and toward evening heat a can of chicken noodle soup.

She thought about David all day Monday. On Tuesday she started calling the number he had put in her phone. He had given her the right number but every time she called it went right to a full voicemail. On Friday she was still getting the same result.

She spend the weekend outside the city, with her parents. She insisted they watch The Princess Bride and she cried through most of it.

The Hunt For Her David.

After trying a couple times Monday morning she had finally had enough. OK she thought to herself, you are in I T, you know how to run a search. So she started a search with the known facts. She had a first name, she knew he worked for a financial firm, he was in the arbitrage department. Her results showed 117 hits for Davids in arbitrage. How can that be she wondered. She had had to look up arbitrage to find out what it even dealt with. It sounded like a very tedious way to earn money. She started on her list and had phoned 30 Davids by the end of the day. Tuesday and Wednesday saw her at the end of her list with no hits.

Then she thought maybe the firm David worked for didn't call that division arbitrage. She did a search of every financial institution in the area. This yielded 245 new Davids. It took her nearly two weeks to go through them all without finding her David. His phone now said the number was no longer in service.

She gave up at this point and tried to forget him. She moped around at work until her boss finally called her in. He was a good guy and soon got her talking. He heard her out and then picked up his phone, searched for a number and dialed.

"Hey Mike, Stu Cooke here, I need you to do a 50 mile radius search. White male, 25 to 30, brown and brown, 6 feet, medium build, first name David, probably find him in stocks, financial, banking. This is personal so quick like bunny, my friend. Thanks, see you at the Carlson's on Saturday, bye."

Chloe said, "I already ran a similar search, I got nothing."

"Yeah, but you don't have the resources Mike has. His company does FR searches. If this David has had his picture published anywhere, the facial recognition software will find him. Now get out of my office, I have work to do."

She stood up and said, "Thanks Boss man, you're the best."

The next afternoon she got an email from FR Database. There was an attachment with pics of 64 men. She slowly went through them and about halfway through, there he was: David Wheeler wearing a tux and smiling shyly. She clicked on his pic and the press release the photo was from came up. It was a charity ball to raise money for, naturally, Pet Therapy Project. He was there as a representative for a private banking company.

She ran a search on David Wheeler and found he worked for a private investment bank. No wonder she hadn't found him. Then she searched divorce court records and got an address. If she remembered the building correctly each apartment went for 2-3 million bucks.

Suddenly she wasn't so sure finding him was a good idea. She had a good job but he probably made twenty times what she did. Why would he be interested in her? Her next thought was, money does not buy happiness, and she had every right to look for that happiness. Then she thought to herself, a court of law would not call it looking for happiness, they would call it stalking.

Chloe wondered how she could meet him in the right circumstances. She couldn't just show up on his doorstep. She probably couldn't get past the doorman. His work was out too, but she could wait outside his work and then follow him, er stalk him. What the hell was wrong with her? She had never acted this way with any other guy, not even crushes in high school. This guy is everything you Don't want in a man. He's probably a workaholic, he's rich, he lives in a penthouse, she would be just another trophy wife. Wife! Oh no, not wife, where did that come from? She didn't know if he would ever speak to her again let alone want to marry her. Marry! My God, I am going crazy, he's going to call me 'bat-shit crazy lady.'

The biggest question was still why. Why was she obsessed with this guy? And that's all it was, right? an obsession? She had gone out with quite few guys, some of them she had even had short relationships with. Her list of guys she had fucked and forgotten was fairly long. Most people would indeed consider her a slut. So why, why this guy? The voice in her head, the one with the answers, was obstinately quiet.

Now, here's the plan, she said to herself. I'm going to stand outside where he works and let him see me. If he wants to talk to me he will approach me. If he sees me and ignores me, I will walk away and never think of him again.

She had gone in early the next morning so she could leave in time to be at David's workplace when he came out. She had dressed casually in jeans and tennis shoes. Who knew how long she would have to wait on hard concrete. No way she was going to do that in heels. She cabbed over and got out. For a moment she thought the cabby had made a mistake. The address she wanted didn't seem to exist. She walked to the end of the block and found a number on the building so she turned and walked past a high limestone block wall to the other end of the block. It was a nice restaurant with the address etched in the glass above the door. Apparently the address was also the name of the restaurant. It had to be here she thought, banks, even private ones had to have a way to get in, didn't they?

Halfway down the block was a small door recessed into the limestone wall. It had no writing or numbers on it. Then she noticed a business card sized brass plate embedded in the wall. All it had was the name of the firm David worked for. Well, she thought, at least that part went right. Then she realized she could not just stand on the sidewalk for untold hours. She decided she would go back to the restaurant and ask for a seat by the window and watch for him. She had a 50 50 chance of his walking that way.

Then she had another thought. What if the main entrance was actually in the back of the building. She crossed the street to see if she could see something behind the wall. From that perspective she could just see the roof line of what was maybe a three or four story building that looked more like a mansion than an office building. She turned and looked at the building on her side of the street. It was an office building that looked like it had windows that overlooked the street on every floor.

She went in and found a tenant board. She picked a firm on the top floor just in case someone asked what she was doing wandering around. She rode the elevator to the eighth floor and turned left when she got off. Sure enough there was a large window in the foyer. She walked over and looked down on the target. She giggled out loud. Target indeed, here she was, a female Tom Cruise, gathering intelligence for her mission. Then she snorted and thought, well that's about as real a scenario as the rest of what she was doing.

Her target was a Greek Revival style mansion in four stories with a three story wing on each side. It was set toward the rear of the property and there was a nice courtyard and garden covering the area all the way to the wall. It looked as if the front door only served as an entrance to the courtyard area. That must mean the main entrance is actually in the rear of the building. Having finished her surveillance she made her way back to the street.

She turned right when she got to the street. She went to the corner and crossed and continued down to the alley. The alley had an ornate metal fence with a large gate that stood open. She walked through the gate and saw it was paved with cobblestones and in good repair. It was also very clean, much cleaner that the street outside the gate. It was somewhat narrow for perhaps 80 feet then opened up on the right. The rear of the mansion was on her left. In the opening on her right were spaces for about twenty cars. They were nose in against a brick wall. Names were painted on the wall above each space. And there, the fourth space, in was David Wheeler's name. She stopped and looked at the car and was not surprised that it was a gray Lexus GS 350.

"Pardon me miss, may I help you?" a voice behind her asked.

She turned and looked up at a nice looking man in a security uniform. He was smiling and polite but what he had really asked was, what the fuck do you think you're doing?

She returned the smile and explained, "I was just using this as a shortcut, is that all right?"

"Of course miss, it is a public thoroughfare. We do however, like to keep an eye on the personal property of our clients and associates. You understand I'm sure," he replied with the same get the hell out of here smile.

"Naturally, I just had to stop and admire this gorgeous piece of machinery. It's a beauty isn't It."

His smile was genuine this time, "That it is miss, that it is."

She gave him another smile and continued on down the alley. Shit, now what are you going to Miss Cruise? There was no place on either end of the alley to wait. What was she going to do anyway, jump out in front of his car. Well, if he were going fast enough that might be a solution. She walked back to the main street and looked around. In the opposite direction from David's building was a coffee shop.

A Sighting.

She headed that way, a mocha latte couldn't hurt, it might even help. She sat at the counter that faced out onto the street. She wasn't really paying attention to what was happening around her. She just sipped at her latte feeling sorry for herself. She looked out the window and across the street saw a bistro, an office supply place, a gym and a bakery. Typical downtown fare, nothing worth noting. Even the people were typical. Women in business attire, shopkeepers, bicycle messengers in bike shorts with colorful shirts with helmets, men in suits. Some of them were sharper than others in their Armani or Brioni. David looked very sharp in his Brooks Brothers three piece.

Wait, what? It was David! There he was striding down the street carrying a gym bag. When he reached the gym he produced a key card and went in. She dashed out and, not looking, was nearly run over by a cab. She blew off his honk and an insult in a language she did not understand. The door was long closed by the time she got there. No amount of tugging or banging with both fists produced any results. She gave up and went back to the coffee shop.

The only thing that kept going through her head was, I saw my David, I saw my David. Then she shook her head violently. He's not your David, asshole. He's just a guy who will probably be terrified when you confront him. Well, she thought, my mom will probably bail me out of jail when he has me arrested.

She sat clutching her purse so she could rush out when he exited the gym. She jumped every time the door opened. Finally it was him. He had changed to a polo shirt and khaki pants. He had his gym bag in one hand and his suit on a hanger over his other shoulder. She rushed out and stood at the curb and yelled his name.

He turned in confusion then saw her. He stood there staring for what seemed like an hour to her, but was really only two seconds. His gym bag fell out of his hand and his expensive suit fluttered to the dirty sidewalk. He never took his eyes off her as he crossed the street. Cars in both direction slid to a halt. Somehow he made it unscathed to her side. He stopped in front of her and looked into her soul.

Reunited.

"You," was the only thing he said before bringing her into his arms. They stood there crying on each other for a long time. Then he held her at arms length and just...looked.

He snapped out of it and cried, "My suit!" He grabbed her hand and this time looked before leading her across the street. He picked up his things and looked around. "We need to talk and I need a drink. Maybe many drinks." They walked down a block to a bar called Harry's.

He asked her, "Martini's?"

"Dirty with two olives."

He told the waiter, "A pitcher of martini's, dirty, and a bowl of olives, please."

"How did you find me?" he started, "no wait, let me go first. The night I left your place I was devastated. I really liked you and had screwed it up completely. I just wandered around not paying attention to where I was. It started raining again and I didn't have a phone to call for a ride. I flagged down a cab and went home. I came back the next day to apologize and I couldn't find your house. Do you know how many brownstone's there are in that area? I knew it was within a block or so of bat shit crazy lady and I swear I knocked on every door and asked a lot of very suspicious and wary people if they knew where Corey lived."

She interrupted him, "It's Chloe, C H L O E."

"Oh," he said frowning, "I guess that would make a difference huh"

"Anyway I had no last name, where you worked, nothing to help me find you." he took her hands and said, "I have been lost without you. I can't focus, I can't sleep, my boss calls me Zombie man. So how did you find me?"

"Well, I had your phone number and I tried that for days. I couldn't get through and finally it went out of service."

"Let me explain that. On Monday I went to my carrier to get a new phone. I asked if they would transfer everything to my new phone. She started to

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 07 Jul 2026 18:13:00 +0000

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 1

What does a hot girl have to do, to get some loving?

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

“Jesus Cats!”

Chloe thought to herself as she slowly walked home on Saturday night, it shouldn't be this hard to get laid. At twenty four you would think she would have enough experience to be able to pick up a guy. It certainly wasn't from lack of trying.

She was a reasonably good looking gal. An old boyfriend had once said she was 'girl next door cute'. Her blue eyes and highlighted natural black hair looked good on her thin face. She always thought her legs and firm little butt, were her best features. One of her work perks was a gym membership, she took full advantage and kept in good shape.

In her teen years, she was a nerd and went to college on a full 'Stem Girls' scholarship. But her late-bloomer body opened even new opportunities and she was snatched up by a top sorority. Her social skills quickly developed and soon she was an assertive career girl with a very healthy sexual appetite. Too healthy, perhaps. It seems her assertive nature and latent Asperger's impatience was keeping her from bonding into a committed relationship.

She had a good job as an I T troubleshooter. Which meant she was called in when the regular I T techs couldn't figure something out, mostly on servers. She made enough money to have her own small apartment in a brownstone, in the nice part of town.

She had good fashion sense, thanks to her sorority immersion, and could dress up or down for any occasion. For example, last night she had gone a little slutty as she was going pub trawling, as she called it, for a cock. It was Friday night and she was ready for some action. It had been over a month since she had gotten laid.

That's all she was looking for really. She liked being single, coming and going as she pleased, spending her money how she wanted, not having some guy demanding to know where she was and what she was doing every second.

She was happy with her body and herself. She was as she thought of it, in her twenties horny. She masturbated almost every night and had a nice collection of toys to help her out. She enjoyed watching porn. Not entire movies, but compilations of people having sex. But every month or so she needed a real cock in her, to feel a guy fill a condom while he was inside her.

First Attempt.

Chloe had gone home Friday after work and had a bite to eat. A crashed server at 4:45 interrupted her first plans for that night. When she texted Ken to advise him of her delay, needing to stay late at work for perhaps an hour or two; He said he couldn't wait and went to the concert without her. Shit!

So she put on a short black skirt paired with black lace top thigh highs and no panties. A black top that she tied up to show a little of her flat stomach with a red bra peeking out the top. A pair of come fuck me black pumps completed the outfit. After a last look in the mirror she nodded in approval at what she saw. She was a little short at 5 foot 2, but had some nice C cup tits, or large B, it depended on who made the bra. She grabbed her black leather jacket and set out to find a cock to satisfy her itch.

Second Attempt.

She walked four blocks to an area that had many bars, restaurants, shops and boutiques. She picked an Irish pub and went in. It was fairly busy but she found a two person high top table and sat down. She ordered a black and tan and scanned the room. There were a few possibles in the crowd and she settled down to wait. After half an hour she noticed one guy in a group of four was giving her the eye. About eleven they all got up to leave. As they made their way out the guy who had been checking her out was last in line. Chloe made eye contact with him as he reached her table, then she glanced at the empty chair across from her then looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

He took the hint and told the other guys he would catch them later. They sized up the situation and gave them both a smile and continued out the door. He took his overcoat off and draped it over the back of his chair and held out his hand saying, "John, and the pleasure is all mine."

"Chloe, John, have a seat." the waitress came by and John signaled her for a round of drinks.

He turned to Chloe and stated "So you're looking for a hookup tonight."

Chloe smiled and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because you came in here alone and have been checking out all the guys. You don't seem annoyed, that means that no one stood you up. You don't look, or act like a working girl. You haven't been checking out the ladies so I don't think you run that way. What else does that leave?"

The waitress set their drinks down and John handed her cash telling her to keep the change.

Chloe said, "You're pretty good. You forgot that I looked horny sitting here."

"And you certainly do, the question is, what are we going to do about it?"

"Not my place, no offense, but I don't like people I've just met knowing where I live. It sometimes complicates things."

"I understand completely. My place is out tonight. I have two roommates that use our place for band practice sometimes. That's why I'm out tonight. I can't believe they are almost thirty and still believe in death metal."

"Wow, you must have understanding, or deaf, neighbors," she said laughing.

"It's a row house over in Crack-town," he explained, "I inherited it from an aunt. No one will buy it, but until some druggie slits my throat, it's a cheap place to live."

"Yeah well, even with no band practice I'm not going to that neighborhood at night, hell, not even during the day. So what do you suggest?"

"I drive a Town Car during the day. I was going to turn it in now and head home. It's in the alley behind here and it has a huge backseat."

"I got fucked in a lot of cars in high school, I always thought it was fun. Drink up and let's go," she ordered him.

They went out the door and he led the way to the alley. Chloe noticed that it had rained while she was in the bar. The streets were wet and the air smelled a little fresher. As soon as they turned into the alley John stopped her and pulled her into an embrace. There was nothing gentle about their first kiss. Their tongues fought for dominance, each trying to outdo the other. As they continued kissing their hands roamed around, both were satisfied with what they found in their groping. John was especially pleased to find Chloe had no panties. He finally broke loose and pointed down the dark alley toward the car. He was walking backward and holding her hand. Suddenly he tripped over something and over he went. He landed hard and cried out in pain. Chloe was laughing as she got to him and bent over to help him up. She stopped laughing when she saw him holding an obviously broken wrist.

She helped him to his feet and called 911. They moved out of the alley and back to the bar. The waitress saw him holding his wrist and called to the bartender for some ice and a towel. They got the ice and towel on him and got him settled in a booth by the door. The ambulance arrived and they loaded him up. Chloe asked if he wanted her to go to the hospital and he said no, but thanks. She stood on the sidewalk as the ambulance pulled away. She realized she had not gotten his number. Then she shrugged, these meetings were meant to be one offs anyway. The waitress stuck her head out the door and told her to come in for a shot, on the house. She had a couple of shots and walked home.

Third Attempt.

Well that had been her Friday night. Now here it was Saturday night and she was walking home alone again. Amazingly she had tried three times to get laid that day.

Work had called at 9:00am that morning with an emergency server problem at a client out in the suburbs. She was a little hungover but a cold shower woke her up. The place was not anywhere near a subway line so she had used a ride share service to get out there.

The problem was unusual but she had figured it out fairly quickly and the client was ecstatic to get up and running so fast. She walked outside to call for a ride and realized there was a Walmart right next door. She didn't get to shop at the huge retailer very often and decided to take advantage of the situation. She had a cart about half full of things when she rounded a corner and smacked into another cart. It was a good looking, but very nervous, young man. He kept apologizing like it had been all his fault. After reassuring him ten times that she was OK he finally relaxed a little.

He really was cute and while they talked Chloe got to thinking a little afternoon delight would be fun. After last nights fiasco she was hornier than ever. She led him over to the fitting rooms. She checked to make sure no one was looking and pulled him into an empty one. She asked him if he wanted to fool around with her and pulled him in for a hot kiss. He was enthusiastic and started getting into it when a passing clerk asked if he needed any assistance. The young man was so nervous he couldn't even answer. He pulled open the curtain and almost ran to his cart and started down an aisle. She retrieved her cart, and practically running, caught up with him. She got him calmed down and told him what a good kisser he was. She told him she was horny and just wanted to get fucked. She asked the guy if he had driven there and he told her he had.

"Great," she said, "we can go to your place."

He replied nervously, "W-we can't do that, I live with my folks. They are at home now."

"Jesus Christ," she muttered under her breath. "Well how about we go out to your car. We can find a quiet place and do it in the car."

"Um, well OK, I've never done it in a car in broad daylight but, um, yeah sure, I guess."

"Fine," she said abandoning her cart. "pay for your stuff and let's go."

She followed him out to an SUV. He started to put his bags in the back. Chloe stopped him saying "Put your stuff on the front seat. We can fold the seats down and have more room in the back. I'll ride in the back until we find a place." She looked around then and noticed that the parking lot was huge. Out close to the road, over in the corner, there were no cars at all.

"Get in and drive down there," she said, pointing.

He parked the car and hopped in the back with her.

She said, "This isn't exactly private so we probably shouldn't take off any more clothes that we need to, just in case." This brought his nerves back into play again. She started kissing him aggressively and put her hand down his pants to get him in the proper state of mind. He had pushed her bra up and was nibbling her tits and rubbing her pussy through her pants when it happened.

The store sat on a small hill and the parking lot sloped down to where they were parked. A careless customer had emptied their cart, left it beside their car and took off. The cart obeyed the law of gravity and started to very slowly roll down the slope of the blacktop. It slowly picked up speed and made a beeline for the back of the SUV.

Chloe and the guy, she never did get his name, were so engrossed in what they were doing they didn't see or hear the cart. It crashed into the car with a sound like a bomb going off. The guy started screaming and reaching over Chloe, opened the door and pushed her out of the car. She landed on her ass with a thud. She looked up as the guy was climbing into the driver's seat. He fired it up and burned rubber taking off. The force of the takeoff slammed the rear door closed and Chloe was left on her butt, with her shirt and bra up to her neck and her bare tits on display.

Son of a bitch, she thought. She slowly got up and brushed her hands over her butt, to get the dirt off. She got her bra back over her boobs and everything situated then pulled her shirt down. She looked around and started swearing, her purse was still in the guy's SUV, probably half way to Canada by now. Then she heard a car coming at high speed. She heard the squeal of brakes and turned. It was the SUV slowing down next to her, the window was open and as it passed close her purse was thrown at her. It accelerated and was soon out of sight.

Fourth Attempt.

She saw a Convenience store on the corner and figured that would be a good place to wait for a driver to pick her up. She went in the store and asked the clerk where the rest room was. He pointed in the back corner and returned to his conversation with a man standing at the end of the counter. She turned and headed to the back. She heard the man say to the clerk he wouldn't mind helping her get the dirt off that cute ass.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder and wiggled her ass saying, "I wouldn't mind a bit of help myself." They just stared at her until she entered the rest room.

She took off her pants and used a wad of wet paper towels to clean as much of the dirt off as she could. The door rattled two different times from people trying to get in. She hurried, finally deciding they were as good as she was going to get them. When she exited there were three people waiting. One of them was the man that had been talking to the clerk when she came in. As she walked by him he reached out and grabbed her ass.

"Need any more help cleaning up honey," he smirked.

"You are a pig," she told him, "but are you a fuck pig?"

"Why, what are you talking about?" he asked confused.

"I asked if you were a fuck pig. In other words, if I asked you to walk out that back door, bend me over and fuck me, what would you do?" she challenged him.

He stared at her for a second and said, "If you want to get a cock up your cunt why are we standing here talking about it? Move your slut ass," he told her pointing to the back door.

Oh damn, she thought to herself, this crude SOB was just what she needed right now. She smiled and walked down the short hallway and banged the back door open. She found herself in a space bounded by the building and tall cement block walls. One end was open to the side street. There were two dumpsters and two smaller recycle bins in the space. The smaller bins were just the right height to lean over and take a cock from behind.

She pulled the man over by his jacket collar and said, "I don't want romance, I don't want a kiss, I don't even want to know your name, I just want your cock. With that she reached in her purse, pulled out a condom and handed it to him.

She turned and pulled down her pants and panties and leaned her elbows on the bin. She felt one hand on her hip and the other guiding his hard on toward her pussy then-

"Back away from the woman and get on your knees, now!" barked an amplified voice.

They both looked toward the side street and saw a squad car with the doors open and two officers with their guns out.

Oh shit! What do I do now? The guy had backed away from her and was trying to get his pants up. That seemed like a good idea so she pulled hers up also.

The cops repeated the order to get on their knees. She was about to sink down when she realized the officers were both pointing their guns at the guy and not her. They told him for the third time to get on his knees.

This time he yelled at them, "Fuck you, assholes, I ain't getting on my knees, it's all muddy here."

One of the cops kept his weapon on him and the other circled around and used his nightstick on his leg. Instead of being on his knees he was face down with an officer putting cuffs on him. When the officer finished with the cuffs he approached Chloe, and very concerned, asked if she were all right.

She told them she was fine, that nothing had happened. The guy by this time was on his feet screaming at the officers. About the nicest thing he called them was cock sucker. They got him in the back of the squad car and ran his I D.

They asked her if she wanted to file a complaint. She said no, she had just met the guy and they had come outside to talk and maybe fool around a little. "

"So, this was all consensual?" one of them asked.

"Yes, of course," she said, "why are you asking that?"

Apparently there had been three rapes in the last two weeks in the neighborhood and the police were on alert.

They took her name and told her she was free to go but please, be more discreet in the future. She asked if they were going to let the guy go and they said no. They had run his license and he had two outstanding warrants and was going to jail. As the police car pulled away she gave him a little wave.

She called for a ride, they told her 20 minutes so she went inside to get a soda and wait. Her ride showed up and they were halfway to her place when she realized she had not finished her shopping.

It was nearly 5:00 pm when she got home. She took off her clothes and threw them in the washer then grabbed the hamper from the bathroom and tossed those clothes in too. She pulled on her fluffy robe, poured herself a glass of wine and picked up her book, intending to read while she washed and dried her clothes. When she woke up it was dark in the room. She fumbled around and found her phone. It was almost ten. She had decided on Italian food for supper and had to get going if she was going to get to the restaurant before they quit serving.

That had been a disaster too. She had sat do;

"Excuse me ma'am," the man said, rising from the stoop where he had been hidden.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and let out a small, "Eek." The man took a step toward her and she held out her purse, "Take it, just don't hurt me."

The man stepped back and held up his hands exclaiming, "Jesus lady, it's OK. I didn't mean to startle you, I'm not a mugger."

"You scared the wits out of me. What's the matter with you. What do you want?"

Still keeping his hands at shoulder height he chuckled and said, "I was going to ask you if I could borrow your phone for one call."

"Why," she asked suspiciously, "where's your phone?"

He pointed with a finger of one of his still upraised arms at the stoop where he had been sitting. Just then there was a flash of lightning and soon after the boom of thunder. The brief flash revealed a guy about her age with a kind face.

"Oh put your arms down or someone will think I'm the one mugging you."

"Thank you," he said gratefully, "my girlfriend, or I suppose I should say ex girlfriend, lives in that building. We were sitting on her couch when my phone went off. She picked it up and saw the caller ID said 'Rebecca'. She started screaming things like; who is this slut, are you fucking her too, how long have you been cheating on me. Then she threw my phone against the wall and started hitting me with a beer bottle until I made it out the door. So I would like to borrow your phone and call for an Uber. Please."

"Well, I can see why she was upset but that seems a little harsh." Chloe said.

"You mean bat shit crazy don't you?" he laughed.

Chloe giggled and said, "Yeah that sounds a little closer to the truth. So who is Rebecca?"

"Would you believe my sister?"

She burst out laughing then tried to apologize.

"I know," he laughed, "it's funny, but it's not funny. So how about it, can I use your phone? I'm David, by the way."

"Sure," she said just as it started raining, "shit, come on, my place it just a block down around the corner."

They made it into the foyer of her building before getting completely drenched and she handed him her phone saying, "Chloe, nice to meet you."

While he was calling she returned to her musing about what had happened earlier at the restaurant.

Fifth Attempt.

She had sat down at a table by herself. She ordered the linguine with clam sauce and a bottle of wine. The uncle of the owner made it himself and you could buy a bottle cheaper than getting two glasses. It was 10:30 and not many people remained. There was a man at t

Scholarly Dames

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 07 Jul 2026 03:24:00 +0000

Scholarly Dames

Two stories of scholarly lasses with healthy libidos.

style='margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal;text-autospace:none'>Based on the posts by Select Redux. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Stimulating Reading

Sexual adventures amid the bookshelves.

Unlocking the big oak doors, Emily glances up at the Spring sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of the 'Institute'. Originally endowed by a Victorian benefactor, now part of a modern university, this old building goes unnoticed by most people passing by on this bright 1993 morning.

The research library within opens just three days a week with Emily, its part-time librarian, fitting the job around her PhD studies. Some colleagues consider it a fusty backwater; Emily rather enjoys the church-like surroundings, lofty ceilings and marble floors, and calm, quiet ambience.

Starting the day as usual at 8.45am, Emily turns on the lights, picks up the post and then sits at the front desk waiting for students to arrive. The job isn't the most exacting; mainly helping undergraduates locate obscure books, its perk being plenty of time to write her thesis and, blush-making to admit, peruse the rather splendid erotica section. Something that's become a bit of a habit, leaving her distracted and almost perpetually aroused.

This 'special collection' is kept locked; its key is supposedly secure in a safe; in fact on a chain around Emily's neck. Currently 'in between boyfriends' (no, not like that!) in truth modern men, mostly boys inhabiting adult bodies in her opinion, don't do it for Emily. Call her traditional, she wants someone old-fashioned.

Emily's romantic, bookish outlook on life sometimes feels unsuited to modern times and is exemplified by today's attire: cardigan, blouse, and a string of pearls, the epitome of respectability; a typical librarian. A knee-length skirt, sensible shoes, minimal makeup and glasses habitually perched upon her head complete the academic look. However, underneath one (who? she reflects glumly) might be surprised to find some almost sinfully brief lingerie adorning her trim figure. Perhaps not so conservative;

Later that afternoon, Emily looks at her watch, half an hour until closing, not likely to see anyone else today she thinks. Wrongly, because striding confidently through the rotating door and purposefully approaching her desk is a new customer. In contrast to the usual scruffy students (although arguably the lecturers are worse) he's smartly dressed. Wearing a tie in fact; Emily likes a chap in a suit and his fits very well. This tall man with silvery grey hair favors her with a confident smile and Emily melts inside, lust at first sight.

Michael, they are quickly on first name terms, is a postgrad mature student working on the final dissertation of an English literature MA. He's taken a couple of weeks' leave from an unspecified (Emily suspects high-powered and well-remunerated) job to complete it. Meaning, she sends a silent prayer of thanks to whichever celestial deity might be responsible, he'll be making frequent trips to the library. Visits she soon begins to eagerly anticipate, feeling disproportionately disappointed on days when this charming, personable and undoubtedly assertive man doesn't appear. Get a grip girl, chides her inner voice, whatever your fantasies this is a purely professional relationship.

"What did you do before studying," she enquires one morning.

"Came from money, followed the family tradition into the City and made some more," he shrugs. "Clich d thing for a privileged person to say but it didn't make me happy."

"What does?"

"Good writing, which explains why I'm here in literary mode, how about you?"

"A very bright kid from a feckless, under-achieving family; got a scholarship, got out of my dead-end town and got a higher education. Not having money means I have to take a series of dull jobs to pay my way." There's no need to make her point any more strongly, Michael gets the implication.

"I detect a steely determination," he responds without rancor.

"Academically, yes," she agrees, "in order to remain with my beloved books, but unfashionable though it is I'd happily be rescued by a knight in shining armor. Will you be my knight?" Christ, she thinks, where did that come from? Silly mare you've blown it now.

"If you'll be my damsel in distress I'd be delighted," Michael answers lightly, but a die has been cast.

"What are you working on today?" he enquires conversationally when next visiting.

"These books were recently acquired for the special collections section. I'm trying to catalogue them," she explains, outwardly serene, but heart beating fast.

"Ah the erotica," Michael raises a knowing eyebrow, "better leave you to it then." He turns to a nearby table with a couple of hefty tomes and commences making notes while covertly observing Emily, absently twirling a lock of hair with one hand, the other no longer on the table but underneath. Much later, abruptly jolted from a pleasurable reverie by his shadow, Emily becomes abruptly aware of Michael's looming presence.

"You're spending a lot of time on books from that particular genre," he says, it isn't a question.

"Well; " she stammers.

"Perhaps that's why you've twice left the University's precious erotica shelves unlocked lately?"

Her eyes widen in shock. "How did you know?" It's true, no point in denying the fact.

"I notice things. An accident I'm sure, but rather careless, some might even say naughty. Are you naughty Emily?" Silence, the cat has got her tongue. "Do you deserve to be punished? Might that be a better solution than the matter being brought to the attention of the Vice-Chancellor?" Michael presses home his advantage. "Those rare editions are extremely valuable. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson, bought to book one might say." Emily gets the joke, but it's no laughing matter.

"Punished; lesson?" she stammers, "what do you mean?"

"I think you know to what I'm referring, you've read enough about spanking, no doubt wondered what it might be like. I don't believe you're as innocent as you pretend Emily, I saw you slide a hand under your skirt just then. Most unprofessional, you deserve to have your bottom smacked."

"Oh; " Overwhelmed by his quiet certainty that she'll obey, Ellie discovers in herself a complimentary willingness to defer; feels her pussy throbbing with desire at every word Michael utters. This is ridiculous, thinks her rational brain, I'm an independent woman, he's no right to demand my obedience. But you know you want to, responds her libidinous subconscious, you've so often dreamt of such a scenario, and how you'd willingly submit;

She nods anxiously towards the door. With an unreadable expression, Michael walks purposefully towards the entrance, locks it and returns.

"Bad girls require discipline," he whispers in her ear.

"They do, sir," she meekly agrees.

"Come here." Emily stands next to him, hands behind her back.

"Turn around and lean forward against the desk."

Deferentially, eyes downcast, Emily complies; wrapping his left arm around her slender waist Michael slowly, and deliberately raises her skirt. Emily wishes her boobs were just a little bigger; wishes her arse was just a little smaller but knows her lovely legs are just right. Now so does he.

A grunt of male disapproval, "I don't like tights," he tugs her pantyhose down revealing flawless bottom cheeks, "next time I expect you to wear stockings." Next time, who said anything about next time? Despite her mounting panic, Emily has an epiphany of understanding; Michael's coercion is more implied than actual, less of a threat by him as a need within her. He runs his hands appreciatively over her pristine, unmarked bottom then tugs those unexpectedly racy, almost transparent black panties up hard into Emily's damp divide, the silken scrap disappearing between puffy pussy lips, chafing her swollen clit.

"Turns you on doesn't it" he growls, holding her tightly.

"Yes, but I'm scared," she whispers and it's true, the physical proximity and her helplessness in the hands of an alpha male are more exciting than anything Emily has ever before encountered.

Emily tenses, holding her breath, awaiting the inevitable; yet the initial smack still catches her by surprise. At first, it's mainly about the ringing percussive sound, a numbing shock. Prudently Michael allows a pause, he can tell it's her first time. Gradually her skin pinkens and a sharp stinging sensation suffuses Emily's posterior.

"Oh," she looks at him wide-eyed, "oh yes," amazed by her compliance with the punitive intentions of a man she scarcely knows. A second spank, slightly harder this time.

"Feeling it now aren't you," Michael mutters, "rather different from in the stories you're so keen on?" True, the reality of what before was only fevered fiction is raw and immediate." I'll stop if you ask me to," he adds.

"Surely not when I've been so wicked," Emily replies huskily. The scene is set, and his hard palm strikes her bottom repeatedly as Michael methodically and unhurriedly continues, Emily's body responding animatedly to the burning sensation gradually suffusing her derriere.

"Keep still," he commands as she squirms in a futile attempt to dissipate the smart.

Eventually, Emily has no idea how long, five minutes, or an eternity, Michael ceases her chastisement. Both are breathing heavily now, albeit for different reasons. He slides a hand up her inner thigh and under her knickers.

"Good girl," Michael whispers, pushing an exploratory digit into Emily's sopping sex. She shuts her eyes and moves against his fingers, Emily is needy, alas, her evident excitement is unrequited. Taking her by the shoulders, Michael turns the shaken young woman to face the wall.

"Make yourself respectable," he instructs in a tone countenancing no dissent, "don't move until I've left, no rubbing your bottom, or anywhere else. I'll let myself out," he kisses the top of her head, "and be back soon to do one final bit piece of research, don't miss me too much."

And then he's gone; taken Emily to the edge and abandoned her unsatisfied. Which, thinks Emily, bottom glowing fiercely, is truly sadistic. Simmering with sexual awakening, she's no intention of being denied. Walking stiffly towards her chair Emily sits, wincing as her tender buttocks contact with the seat. Legs spread and eyes closed she pushes a hand down the front of her panties and addresses her pent-up frustration with flying fingers, and soon has a shattering orgasm.

On Monday morning, after a weekend mentally replaying this momentous encounter, and multiple flouting of Michael's embargo on masturbation, Emily walks into work full of hope for what the new week may bring. Inwardly more confident, her outward appearance has also altered. She's taken more care with makeup, mascara and her favorite cherry red lipstick. Does her best not to tug down her hem at every step. Emily hasn't previously worn such a short skirt and worries people may notice she's wearing stockings. Once at work, it's business as usual, albeit with some appreciative glances from borrowers, being desired is an unfamiliar but welcome ego boost. Emboldened, Emily experiments with undoing the second button of her blouse.

She can't conceal her unhappiness when Michael fails to arrive and becomes increasingly despondent when he doesn't turn up on Tuesday and Wednesday either. By Thursday she's almost lost hope. Turning to the erotica collection for comfort a photograph falls from between the pages of a book on 'Le Vice Anglaise'. Emily looks aghast, Michael! But it can't be, the date scribbled on the back is 1936, does her dom have a doppelganger? All too much of a conundrum to deal with in her overwrought state, Emily locks up early and heads disconsolately home.

On Friday she settles onto her stool and re-opens the same book. Was Michael ever really here, she wonders? Could this have been some sort of hallucination, an epic instance of self-delusion? Of course not, get real, examine the facts, she inwardly chides. Consider the evidence of two days of sitting gingerly, the finger marks on your sore buttocks visible in the mirror. She was spanked alright, the pertinent question being whether she will see Michael again, let alone reach the sexual conclusion so ardently desired. Not being clairvoyant, Emily doesn't have a clue about either outcome, for now, she tells herself sternly, you'd better get on with some work. Mentally listing the day's mundane tasks Emily doesn't notice a familiar figure quietly enter the building until he's immediately adjacent. Caught unawares her incipient shout of shock is stifled by his hand.

"I'll remove it from your mouth," his voice whispers, "if you promise not to scream, understood?" Emily remains frozen, struggling to get to grips with her predicament, then nods assent.

"Where did you appear from?" she enquires in a small voice.

"Not important right now," he shushes.

"Your picture; " She points at the faded sepia print on the table.

"My father," he laughs, "chip off the old block, aren't I? Long gone, of course, he put up the money to establish the erotica collection you've so much enjoyed." Helping the shaken young woman to her feet he moves Emily to face a bookcase.

"Just relax," he says calmly, trailing a hand teasingly up and down the back of her thighs.

"Relax," she tenses at the suggestion, "when I don't know what you intend to do."

"I think you can hazard a pretty accurate prediction," he teases.

"I'm quite sure you're planning to punish me again," says Emily shivering with anticipation at the thought, "what might occur afterwards is what's preoccupying me."

"What do you hope happens?" he enquires, lips brushing the nape of her neck.

"I think you can make a very good guess," Emily replies cheekily.

Right now, she can't think of anything she wouldn't let him do, Emily has read many salacious books and has a vivid imagination.

"I'm enjoying your new look," says Michael appreciatively, "let's explore beneath; " He unbuttons her blouse to the waist, frees her boobs and rolls each erect nipple in turn between finger and thumb. In response, Emily kisses him hard on the mouth, her acquiescence clearly in no doubt. His other hand slips between her thighs and encounters wetness between them. Emily moans at this touch, yearning to be penetrated by the hard cock she can feel bulging through his trousers and pressing against her thigh.

"You'll endure a harsher correction this time," he murmurs, bending Emily across the desk while removing his belt.

"The door", she gestures urgently.

He shrugs off her concern. "We'll just have to take the chance; I find a little jeopardy adds a frisson of excitement." Wrestling up the short, tight skirt exposes the soft curves of Emily's hips and beautiful bottom; Michael monetarily enjoys the sight, and then pulls her knickers down and off.

"Someone wants to be fucked pretty badly," he observes, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glimpses her damp, pouting slit. With no warning he straps Emily, hard and fast, leaving blazing bands of hurt across both cheeks and down to her stocking tops. She yelps, groans and stamps her feet, nevertheless thrusting out her buttocks to meet each of the worn leather's cruel kisses. A further dozen overlapping strokes sear across her fiery red behind until Emily thinks she can't possibly endure further chastisement.

"Hurts," she whimpers, tears in her eyes, although the perfect pain only serves to stoke a fire of arousal down below. Aware of her limits Michael runs his hands along the insides of Emily's legs and pulls her knees apart, leaving her open and exposed. His tongue repeatedly explores the length of her labia, right up to the nub of her clit, building each caress into a rhythmic repetition. Emily feels an orgasm inexorably approaching, her breathing becomes fast and uneven.

"Fuck you're tight," he observes crudely, sliding a finger into Emily's inviting pink cunny and then positioning his erection at her slick entrance.

"Stop teasing and do it hard!" she screams, last vestiges of dignity and reserve surrendered. Lewdly Emily pushes back her hips, anxious to have him inside her. Equally caught up in the intensity of the moment, Michael fills the lusty librarian with the cock she craves. All inhibitions abandoned, Emily feels the rhythm of his thrusts increasing, her pussy spasms and takes them both to an inevitable sexual crescendo. They lay silent for a moment before Michael chivalrously passes Emily a large linen handkerchief to mop the come leaking onto her nylon-clad thighs.

"I think my poor bottom has suffered quite enough for one day," she whispers sensually, "how about you take me home to your place and fuck me again, slowly and gently?"

"How about we take one of the books from the special collection to provide us with inspiration?" he replies.

"Oh, I think I've already done quite enough research," Emily responds with a giggle.

"Then let's grab a bottle of wine and see if we can't put theory into practice," agrees Michael.

Cut to a year later, doctorate earned; Emily has been promoted to take charge of the main university library. There's a new young woman librarian at the Institute, still on probation and requiring guidance. Emily considers herself a firm but fair manager and has kindly offered an after-hours tutorial on the special collection. A recently successful MA student, now a research fellow, somewhat older and vastly experienced, may join them;

By Select Redux for Literotica

Cleverness is Sexy

Winning a quiz transformed Alice from swot to hot.

By Select Redux

An exceptionally brainy young woman, Alice has pursued her academic interests to the exclusion of almost everything else in life. There will, she reasons, on the verge of her 23rd birthday, the M A she's strived so hard to attain nearly complete, be plenty of time to pursue other interests later. Travelling perhaps, a life outside the university library, even something so mundane as clothes shopping.

Used to being an outsider, teacher's pet, bookworm and swot are familiar, uncomplimentary descriptions, Alice embraces her geek status with pride. Sure, she attends the occasional postgraduate party, more out of a sense of obligation than enthusiasm, but blokes her age don't do it for Alice. Seemingly either intimidated by her intellect or determined to brag to their mates they've 'scored a nerd'; it isn't worth the hassle.

An invitation to join the university quiz team is an entirely different prospect, both a challenging intellectual test and, best of all, the chance to meet Giles Knighton, celebrity quizmaster ('QM'), of the TV series, 'Battle of the Brightest'. This popular program involves a collection of brains the size of Mars competing for, well, since you ask, an engraved glass bowl: no cash prize, no foreign holiday, simply a public endorsement of higher education.

Alice secretly fancies Giles; she's minimal experience in such matters, but something about the way he solemnly utters the phrase, "five-point penalty," when an over-eager contestant answers too soon makes her damp with desire. In recent months she's had a bizarre recurring dream of being summoned to his office wherein the QM, dramatically stretching each syllable, insists Alice pay a pen-al-ty and spanks her across his knee.

Where on earth did that idea come from? Never smacked by her impeccably liberal parents as a child and top of her class each year, she was a regular goody two shoes. Is spanking even a thing, Alice

Helping the Karlssons: Part 3.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 05 Jul 2026 18:20:00 +0000

Helping the Karlssons: Part 3.

Variations, before the church girls return to Father.

Based on a post by m jar 65. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Do you like girls touching you?" asked Summer as she ran her fingertips over the shaft.

Tim simply smiled in reply and she traced her fingers over his ridges and veins.

"I've never really looked at a man's cock before," she murmured. "Yours looks gorgeous."

That compliment caused Tim's cock to pulse and harden. Summer did not miss the effect her words and touch had on him. But her eyes were on a new prize.

"Can I touch your balls? I don't want to hurt them;”

Excited by the idea, knowing it was Summer's first time, Tim gently moved her hand lower. His girlfriend had rarely shown interest in touching his balls. Every male knew the pleasure of a soft touch on his scrotum. Summer followed his lead, gently running the tips of her fingers over the soft, hairy skin of his sack. It was her first time to touch a boy there and she was excited and, yet, still concerned.

"Is this Okay?" she asked tentatively.

Tim responded by curling her fingers, cupping her hand around the precious pouch. Summer carefully applied a little pressure, nervous that she not cause any pain.

"Oh, wow! I can feel them," she gasped. "So hard;”

Summer loved the way his balls felt, hard inside the soft skin, warm to the touch and, she knew, full of wonderful manly semen that attested to the power of the male. She was intoxicated by being permitted to touch Tim in such an intimate place. She wanted to do something more to please him.

"Don't you want to cum now?"

"What if I cum on your face?" feeling wicked and lucky at the same time.

This was something of a test for them both. Tim had never dared ask this of a woman. Summer was a wild and sexy young woman who seemed open to trying anything. But perhaps he was going too far. Her look of shock made Tim far she was ready to flee.

"That's so dirty," she giggled. "But if you want to do it;”

"Let’s get you ready first," he said, trying to sound gallant. "Let me lick your cunt again."

Summer had no reason to argue. She thought of Tim was a real man and his willingness to give pleasure with his mouth seemed to prove it. The chance to have more of his tongue on her sex was too great to pass up.

"Oh, sweet Lord," she moaned as his tongue pierced her swollen lips to find the tip of her hardened clit.

Tim was learning how much he enjoyed the taste of a woman's cunt. The fact she was his daughter's boss, a good church-going girl, only made it hotter to be thrusting his tongue into her soaking hole and sucking on her straining clit.

"I can't take any more, Tim. You have to stop. I need you to cum."

He relented then, leaving her gasping down breaths as she recovered from the exertions. It made her beautiful chest heave up and down and Tim wanted to suck on his nipples again.

"I have to get home," she breathed. "Father will be upset. But first I want you to cum."

Summer Karlsson had watched enough porn, secretly and even hidden from her sister, to know how men liked to cum on a girl's face. She had marveled at other women seemingly enjoying the experience of taking a load of semen on their faces. She'd never imagined it to be degrading, somehow it felt more like deference to a man who was special enough. Tim was a wonderful lover. Or so she thought. And, besides, he'd asked her to give this act to him.

Still panting, Summer went to her knees beside his bed. She hoped that her sweet face and her sexy, curvy body would be enough for Tim. Surely he was more than horny enough?

Tim could not believe his luck. No woman he'd fucked till now would ever have agreed to this. And Summer looked so sweet and ready, her cute smile and her blonde hair. Her juicy C-cups hung so nicely as she waited for him, kneeling and passive. He stood before Summer, like her imagining that his cock looked powerful as it hovered over her.

"You have an impressive cock," she told him.

Tim didn't ask permission again before he started stroking himself as the church girl watched closely.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, as if the young woman needed encouragement.

Summer was right and he was super horny. And he was beside himself with the opportunity. Tim had watched a lot more porn that her. She was right that a facial was dirty. But in the best of ways. He loved the idea that a woman could be so hungry that she'd take his cum on her pretty face. And Summer really wanted it. She was kneeling in front of him, waiting with a smile and a wicked look in her eye.

"I'm gonna cum," he groaned. "So much."

At that instant, his cock spasmed and the first blast of his hot cum spewed out. Fortunately, Summer had just enough time to blink as that first missile was launched at her. A long rope of white cum flew through the air and over her, landing on her face and draping a lovely, thick line of cock juice over her blonde hair and down over one eye and one cheek.

For some reason, she opened her mouth at the same time. Not that it mattered either way because in another instant a fresh blast of semen sprayed on her forehead and the side of her head. It was primal and Summer felt so wonderfully dirty. She was impressed by the power of Tim's orgasm. It shocked her a little to realize how much he was cumming, being covered by the healthy contents of his balls. She was thrilled when one blast half-landed in her mouth but it didn't stop there.

Tim was almost oblivious to everything but the incredible sensation of his orgasm and the unbelievable sight of his own semen blasts splashing onto the face of a willing, sexy young woman. He had no real control of the direction of his blasts. But his pleasure was more intense than ever watching Summer's face being splattered with his own cock juice.

As more and more semen landed on her, Summer knew it was a dirty and disgusting act. But the feeling of semen blasting onto her face was pure delight. She told herself it was the perfect facial. It was a thrill to submit to such an intimate experience. And all the better knowing that she'd made him cum so hard. She felt every blast and every drop, exulting in her first facial. It was so much better with a man like Tim and not one of those sheepish church boys.

Tim thought that she looked even more pretty with a thick covering of semen. His heart was beating hard as he surveyed his work, sticky white cum splattered in thick lumps on Summer's face, her hair and even splashes on her body. The young man had just lived out one of his greatest sexual fantasies. The wait had been worth it.

He also was impressed at how well Summer had taken his cum. Then again, the sweet and sexy Summer had been the perfect woman for it. She had not objected or even flinched as he'd emptied his balls all over her face. Now she was grinning at him, joyed by his performance.

"Oh, my God. Tim, that is so much," she giggled. "Where did it all come from?"

He had to admit it'd been a few days since he'd relieved himself. And the repeated visits from the two blonde sisters was probably making his balls work harder.

"I'm such a mess. I'll have to sneak in to the shower before Father sees me."

There was no regret from Summer, none at all. She felt pride at submitting to Tim like that, at giving him ultimate pleasure. Every man wanted a woman who could be a slut when needed. Even church girls could do it. Sex before marriage was a serious taboo in her family but she already knew her likely future husband would be too boring to give her a really enjoyable fuck.

And it was a triumph to know that she had made Tim empty his balls completely. She caught a glance at her face, thickly coated with a load of sticky fluid slowly dripping down. More drops had landed on her shoulders, her tits and her thighs. Summer thought she looked just like those porn stars. It required a handful of wipes to make her face respectable enough to drive home. At least she got her eye open before putting her clothes on.

She gave Tim a little kiss before leaving. It was fun to know she'd taken a facial at least once when April probably would never go so far. Tim was a sweet guy who didn't judge. And now she had a one-up on her girlfriends from church.

It was the next Sunday when April took her turn. Tim still wondered if the sisters were working together, planning who fucked their father's assistant and when. He was shocked to answer a knock on the door that Sunday and see April, standing there in her finest but with a look that had lust written all over it.

"I was sitting in church and couldn't stop thinking about you," she said boldly. "It will be a sin to fuck you. But I told Father I'm visiting a sick friend."

It took him a few moments to overcome his surprise at seeing April like that. Even in the furniture store she didn't dress so formally. Tim wondered if she'd really been thinking about fucking while sitting in church. But then he realized how many layers of clothing he'd have to remove if he was to have a Sunday fuck with the juicy April Karlsson.

April had the same thought. She barely finished pressing her face to Tim's, for a long and wet kiss, before she was unbuttoning her dress as she led him to the bedroom.

"I am so horny," she said with a naughty grin. "I brought the condoms. And some lube," she giggled.

Tim tried to hide his shock. Was this going to be the day? Focusing his mind, he helped the young blonde undress. April was a sexy and juicy young woman. She carried a little more weight than her sister, more plump but a wonderful sight all the same. Her naked body was wonderfully curvy. And her skin was flawless. The exception was the stretch marks on her fabulous DD-sized tits. Tim knew he could never have enough of those big tits and they drew his eyes immediately she exposed them.

"Fuck, April. It must be a sin. I thought your church would be against pre-marital sex."

"That's what they teach us," she admitted. "But some girls don't want to be virgins when we marry. If we leave it to the boys then sex will never be good."

"Then I am gonna fuck you good," he told her seriously.

That was exactly what April wanted to hear. She cupped her big, blue-veined tits and jiggled them a little. She didn't notice as his cock throbbed at the sight but she heard his moan of delight. April had often thought her tits were too big. Tim's approval had changed her mind entirely. It felt good to know that a man like Tim could not resist them. Fresh from the ceremony of the church, she was feeling more naughty than usual.

"Do you want to put your cock in here?"

With that invitation, Tim bent forward to suck on the small, hard nipples. April moaned at the touch of his lips. Her tits were sensitive to touch but it was so incredibly better when a lovely man like Tim sucked on them. Hers were the biggest tits Tim had ever gotten his hands on. Or his cock between. He knew he was clumsy but he was excited to fuck them. Skinny women didn't have tits like April and why not take advantage?

April was turned-on as he licked deep in her cleavage. She let Tim sit her on the bed in front of him. It was arousing to have her boobs used in such a way, so different to the ideas of the church about being held to the warmth of a bosom. April could not help but respond at the sight and the feel of Tim sliding his manly cock in there. Her eyes were fixed on his hard shaft thrusting between her soft orbs.

"I love your big cock," she told him with a lewd grin.

Tim responded by driving his cock more firmly through her soft cleavage. What a pair of tits she had! But then he thrust a little too hard and his cock sprung loose from the confines of her luscious flesh. April was quick-thinking, what was even better than a cock between her tits was to have it in her young mouth. In a flash, she wrapped her lips around him.

"Are you sure sucking a cock isn't a sin?" he grunted to her.

"Don't think the bible mentions oral sex anywhere," she replied with the barest pause to get the words out.

Tim slowed his thrusting a little but April heard his gentle moans and felt the throbbing of his manly flesh as he greedily filled her mouth. She wanted to impress Tim, show that she was a better fuck than her older sister. And she wanted to give him something special that day. She wanted Tim so overcome with lust that he would not deny her.

Tim was already thinking about something special. He hadn't told April that this would be his first ass-fuck as well. But, knowing she was super keen, he'd studied on the best technique. He removed his cock from her luscious mouth, eager to get started.

"Roll over," he instructed the young, blonde woman. "On hands and knees."

She complied without a word, nervous to display her holes but eager to give Tim whatever he wanted. April knew she was a little more chubby than she'd like. But she already was confident that her naked body was irresistible to any man. Tim's hands on her ass cheeks reminded her of his physical strength. She was ready to be fucked. The touch of his soft, warm tongue on her tight opening came as a shock.

"What are you?"

"Relax. Don't you want anal sex? This is to prepare you."

April moaned with the sudden realization. It was not consent, so much, as the sound of pleasure.

"I don't know if this is a sin or not," she gasped.

Yes, she wanted anal sex. Tim must know how to do it. feared that he would detect an unpleasant odor. But it was deliciously naughty to have this older guy licking her ass hole. And there was no disputing the wonderful warm feeling he was sending through her nether regions. April had tried to imagine it but the sensation was so much better. It was pure delight as Tim gently pressed the tip of his tongue in that tight little place.

"Tim, I want you to fuck my ass," she called out. "I really want it."

April knew there was no hiding it, she was aching for the sin of taking a man in her ass. Tim felt the same way.

"Roll over," he said softly. "Let’s finish getting you ready."

The young woman flipped over, legs spread in anticipation. How lewd she had become. But even church girls had needs to be satisfied. And she wasn't disappointed since Tim was proud of the improvement in his oral skills. Firmly placing his mouth over her bare snatch, Tim took delight in the cries of pleasure he drew out from her. April was already soaking wet and the scent of her juices fired him up still more. He thrust his tongue into her hole and April cried out her delight.

"Sweet Mary;”

Tim also discovered, for the first time, that his tongue could reach the perineum of the young woman. He let his tongue wander down from her gushing hole to that smooth, soft skin. Unaware of the extra nerve endings he was stimulating, Tim gently flicked his tongue over the delightful patch that led to her warm, tight anus. The new sensations rocked April who was overcome by a series of orgasms from Tim's clever tongue. So distracted was she that April did not flinch when she felt a finger pressing against her asshole.

After his eager licking, her hole was nicely softened and pliant. Tim pressed the tip of one finger into her passage and heard April's groans suddenly grow louder. He still didn't know for sure if she could take his cock in there. But slowly he worked more of his finger into her tight hole, gently thrusting back and forth while he ate her cunt. She was writhing and groaning and Tim knew the hot young slut would want still more.

"Fuck me, Tim. Fuck me," she said, as if on cue.

"Go on your hands and knees," he told her as he grabbed a condom.

April felt a new surge of excitement. Bing fucked from behind. She had wanted that so much. Porn stars always seemed to delight in that position. She'd red that it allowed the man to thrust more of his cock into the woman. Most of all, April was keen because it seemed so primal. She wondered if her sister let boys have sex in this position. The first touch of his cock against her cunt hole was incredible.

"Yes, Tim. Put it in me."

She was so wet that Tim easily slipped the head of his cock into her cunt. Thrusting firmly, he encountered none of the barrier of that first time. The only resistance to his penetration was the natural tightness of her young hole. But her generous ass and shapely waist gave him the tools he needed. Her pale, rounded ass was spread to expose her backdoor. Tim watched it closely as he gripped April and with a few thrusts buried his cock fully inside the once innocent young woman.

"Oh, Lord. I love your cock in me," she cried.

Careful not to damage her, Tim started slowly as he fucked April. It was a delight to feel every single inch of his cock as it slid back and forth in her soaking hole. But her moans of delight soon urged him on. Taking a firmer grip, he began to increase the speed of his fucking, only to make April start to cum noisily.

"Do it, Tim, Do it; fuck me,"

April had craved being filled by Tim's lovely cock. His thickness made her whole cunt throb with pleasure. But there was no substitute for a proper fucking she already knew. His cock moving in and out of her hole was the most exquisite experience. The repeated thrusting and stretching was making her cum with amazing intensity. She loved his withdrawal each time since she knew he was about to jam his cock deep inside her again.

She was convinced that the older girls had the right idea, sex before marriage was the only way to really be sure one could experience the pure pleasure of being fucked. April as alive to every sensation. It was an added delight to feel his balls slapping against her cunt lips as he thrust. In a frenzy of sinful lust, she started to cum freely.

Tim got bolder, starting to thrust harder, trying to make those big tits really bounce. April almost screamed her delight at having a hard cock rammed into her cunt. And she loved the way her nipples grazed against the bed as he humped her harder. Tim held her tight, watching her ass ripple as each thrust into the cunt of the pretty, church-going girl. He was even grateful for the condom since it seemed to help in delaying his own climax. Not yet able to read April's young body, he kept on fucking her, taking all the pleasures of unadulterated fucking until he figured that April needed a rest.

"Don't stop, Tim. Don't stop," she groaned at him.

For Tim, this was the ultimate opportunity. Such a chance might never appear again. He grabbed the lube and made the final prep for his first ever anal fuck. Quickly he smeared a thick lump of clear gel over his sheathed cock.

"Ready to try anal? You sure now?"

"Sweet Mary, yes. Put it in there."

"You should rub your clit while we do this," advised Tim, relying on his limited education.

But April had no intention of touching her clit right then. Feeling Tim spreading her big round cheeks, she braced herself. It was the moment of no return she told herself as she felt the head of his cock against her tight opening. April was certain she was prepared for what came next. She knew, from her own experimentation, that anal could hurt, at first. But she'd learned that the discomfort soon turned to a deep, warm pleasure.

"Do it, Tim. Fuck my ass."

Tim was surprised at how easily the head disappeared between those fleshy cheeks. He had no idea what size toys April might have used back there. But she hadn't flinched. Being the older man, trying to show his prowess, he decided to insert the first inch of his rock-hard cock. He heard April gasp at the sudden pain and froze.

"No, no," she gasped to him. "Don't stop. Just go slow for me."

This was one hot bitch, Tim knew. His thick, hard cock would take some getting used to in that tight hole but April was still eager. He paused for a few moments, knowing he was not going to get less hard but waiting for the virgin anus to adjust to his penetration.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 2.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 04 Jul 2026 18:18:00 +0000

Helping the Karlssons: Part 2.

The young sisters take it further with the summer help.

Based on a post by m jar 65. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Tim; Tim, I can't take any more," poor Summer gasped after uncountable orgasms. "I want your cock."

The young man happily rolled onto his back as Summer scurried down the bed. Still somewhat innocent, she understood what he needed. Eager, and confident, she grabbed him by the base of his shaft and took a good look.

"It's the biggest I've had," she said with a grin and proceeded to take half his cock into her mouth.

It was Tim's turn to lie back and groan his pleasure. He was inexperienced at receiving head jobs and so was more than satisfied by Summer. As she bent over him, Tim got to watch her soft mouth stretch around his thick shaft. It was framed by her blonde hair and looking beyond he could see her sexy, blue-veined tits swaying as she tried her best to pleasure him. Her wet lips looked perfect as his thick, veined cock slipped back and forth into her hungry mouth.

"Take your time, Summer," he warned. "Unless you want me to cum in your mouth.

"I want it inside me," she pleaded to him. "Fuck me, Tim. I need it."

Tim was in no mood to deny her. He'd never met a woman so keen for sex; except perhaps her sister, April. His last girlfriend had usually needed cajoling before she'd agree to fuck. Tim knew that some women preferred to be slutty and Summer was the perfect specimen. He reached for the pack of condoms as Summer lay down, already pulling her knees high and wide to give him access to her hole.

"Oh yes, fuck me," she moaned as Tim began to penetrate her. "I really need you."

Tim felt the same way. He knew Summer was practically a virgin. But she was young and sexy. And eager to let him use her. She groaned as he penetrated her, lifting her tanned legs onto his muscular shoulders.

"Oh, that's good. Yes, fill me."

Sex in a proper bed, with an older boy, delivered for Summer in every way. And the nice thick cock was the best part of all. She thought of Tim as worldly and experienced; and powerful. His wonderful cock was all the proof she needed. Summer opened herself the way she'd seen women in porn and hoped Tim would understand and use her hard and deep.

Tim knew none of that. But he could guess that she was willing to be seriously fucked. And he was horny enough to try it, to pound Summer as best he knew how and see how much of a rough fucking she could handle. He quickened his thrusting, trying to give Summer his full length as he built up his power and began to slam into her. She was discovering the advantage of a bedroom with the extra space where a man could really use her juicy young body.

"Oh, yes. Sweet Mary. Fuck me, Tim; I think I'm cumming. Oh;”

Tim had only experienced young, tight cunts but this one seemed especially delightful. He was spurred on by her constant moaning. With her legs high, his weight bending her almost in half, her big tits shook and her mouth hung slackly so that she issued a constant stream of sound. But Tim knew each time she climaxed from the sudden increase in the noise from her church-going mouth.

Not to mention the spasming of her young cunt around his shaft. Summer was a hot one, indeed. And that was signal enough that Tim could unload. Like any young man he thought of sex as mostly about blasting his seed somewhere. With Summer's warm cunt wrapped around his cock all he wanted was to empty his balls into her.

"My turn," he grunted between thrusts into her soaking hole.

"Do it, Tim. Cum now. Cum for me."

He'd never realized that women could find the male climax the most important part of fucking. But Summer already knew, after only a few times, the delicious triumph of a man flooding his seed into her body. And she thought it only right to tell a man exactly what she wanted.

She felt him thrusting still deeper. The tension in his muscles was obvious. And he was grunting in time with the movement of his hips. Summer was still new to the male orgasm but there was something instinctive and primal about a man blasting his seed inside her body. There was a mixture of relief and intense pleasure as the handsome Tim took his full pleasure from her young body.

Finally she lowered her legs and rested her hips with Tim lying on top of her. They both were still panting from their exertions. Each of them content in the afterglow of intense and forbidden sex. They almost cuddled, too young to really understand how to share the moment. But their coupling had involved not emotion but raw lust and each was pleased enough to have shared the act.

Summer was more interested in watching when Tim removed the condom. She was impressed by the contents; so much cum! In her mind it only proved that Tim was a real man. And to think that she had been the cause of such a flood. Summer was determined that this would not be the last time she had sex with Tim.

"I better get home," she muttered to him. "Father will be upset if I am late."

The evening concluded far quicker than Tim would have liked. But what the hell; it was his first fuck in months and what was more, he'd just screwed the boss's eldest daughter.

"See you in the store," he grinned.

Tim's only regret about that first night with Summer was that she'd ended it so quickly. He understood the need to hide what they were doing from Mr. Karlsson. Or perhaps her experience was limited to virgins who didn't know how to cum twice with a woman.

The chance to do something about that happened quickly; when April knocked on his door the very next night.

"It’s Okay," she told him. "Father thinks I'm visiting a friend from church."

Her tight T-shirt accentuated her E-cups perfectly. She was wearing a bra but April knew how to make the most of her chunky, short body. Tim would have agreed she was not as beautiful as her sister but April was desirable in her own way. His cock told him so, reacting instantly. And there was no need to guess why she'd showed up.

"I don't want you to get into any trouble," he said. "And I don't know what your sister would say if she knew."

"It’s Okay. I know you've fucked Summer already," was the breezy reply.

Tim didn't bother to deny it this time. The idea didn't seem to upset April. It made her more determined to have her turn with the handsome Tim. And neither would resist the chance. A sweet young virgin who was gagging for sex was an opportunity Tim would not miss. And when April put her hand over his crotch, rubbing his cock through his jeans, he was sure that this was the night.

"I brought condoms," April told him. "Ultra-thin. I hope I got it right."

Tim silently smiled. It looked like this night would be his first time to experience a virgin. And in the bedroom April didn't wait to undress. She went to her knees, extracting Tim's seven inches of meat.

"It’s so big," she whispered in awe; since it was the first cock she'd seen in the flesh.

It went straight into her mouth, April trying to remember what she had learned from watching porn and from Tim's previous tutoring. He was as impressed by her eagerness as her skills and his generous moans encouraged April to suck more and swallow as much of his hard shaft as she thought wise. She knew to stroke the base with one hand as that, too, had been the subject of much study. The same porn viewing had shown her it was normal for the man to gently hold her head and guide her mouth over his cock. It was exciting when Tim ran his fingers through her blonde hair and started to thrust gently.

April already knew that she wanted to try everything about sex. Which was just as well since Tim was concocting a plan. He knew that April was a virgin and way too willing. Likely she'd be willing to let him take the lead and he'd already decided how we would take advantage. He pulled April to her feet just long enough to strip her completely.

"You have great tits," he told her.

April was proud of her tits; even more so since Tim approved of them. It was a massive turn-on to have Tim hefting and massaging her E-cups. She responded with a soft moan, not knowing that Tim felt strongly that tits like hers should be enjoyed fully.

"What if we tried tit fucking?" he suggested.

She had no idea what that entailed but felt her breathing quicken as Tim positioned her, seated on the bed and facing him. April could hardly take her eyes off the hard, rampant cock. It stood so straight and tall. She saw the veins and ridges and the hairy sack hanging underneath. So much for her to explore.

He thought the same about her tits. Tim had never had his hands on a pair as big and juicy. They were soft and yet so firm with almost no hint of sag. That was the wonder of young, juicy women. They fit so easily around his cock and Tim added some saliva to help things along. He started to thrust, clumsily at first. That hardly mattered. Her huge tits were just as virginal as the rest of April and Tim felt his cock grow even harder as he took advantage of the willing blonde.

April moaned louder as Tim squeezed her tits around his hard meat. It was exciting to have her body used for pleasure.

"It feels so sexy," April sighed to him.

She wanted to please Tim. He seemed to her a worldly man and April wanted him to give her everything that would make her a real woman. Having his cock thrusting between her tits was a wonderful new experience. She delighted at the way the head of his cock seemed ready to burst from between her big boobs. Looking down she saw the clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock.

"What's that?"

"Pre-cum," he grunted between strokes. "Because your tits feel so good."

April smiled at that. She knew just enough to realize that Tim was ready for fucking. And April was even more ready than he was. She did not want to wait.

"I want you inside me, Tim. Please can we have sex?"

And she meant it. April was determined to give her virginity to Tim. She'd strained against her religious upbringing, wondering when she might have an opportunity to give her all to the right man.

"Lie down," he urged her gently. "Let me make sure you are wet enough." And when April gave him a quizzical look he reassured her. "Oral sex; you know, eating your pussy."

In a flash she splayed her young legs for him, not caring that a man could see her bare cunt and perhaps even smell her arousal. Being eaten had been a serious fantasy for a long time.

Tim did not disappoint either. The chubby virgin could not quite believe the exquisite pleasure of this once taboo act, writhing and crying out while Tim licked her entrance and lapped at her stony hard clitoris. Oral alone made the wait worthwhile and April knew then that she'd always want sex and that she would always need a man who would so willingly eat her out. She wasn't even sure when Tim had stopped, wondering if she had lost consciousness owing to the incredible, powerful orgasms he had provided.

"Now you," she murmured. "I want to give you something. And I really need you inside me."

Wanting to ensure Tim would give what she craved, April took him in her mouth once again. She knew this foreplay would make Tim determined to thrust himself into her hungry entrance. He reached for the condoms and gave April one last chance to back out.

"Fuck me. Tim," she told him straight. "Don't make me wait any longer."

She was tight but his cock slid easily past her entrance. Tim tried to appreciate what he was doing. His was the first cock to probe this cunt and April would never be the same again; no longer a virginal "good girl". But he was distracted by the delightful moans of April at last getting the fucking she craved so much. The thought of taking a man inside her was almost as good as the physical experience of penetration. His hard, thick cock opened her entrance in the most wonderful way and April heard herself make a new, strange sound.

"Are you Okay?" Tim asked.

"Yes. Sweet Mary, don't stop," she groaned.

Having Tim's body above hers was as dream made real, his muscled arms holding his weight as she finally committed that beautiful, intimate act. His cock felt better than she'd imagined. It fit so perfectly inside her despite her silly fears. She could feel him open and stretch her as his meaty phallus plunged into her depths. She was ready for him to really thrust into her as she'd imagined so often while pleasuring herself.

"You're tight," he muttered. "I can't get it all in."

"Fuck me hard, Tim," she urged him. "Just go deep. It won't hurt."

Hearing that, Tim realized that the young virgin underneath him still was intact. How foolish of him. He tried to ram forward and just like that he buried his thick cock into her cunt. April felt the small tearing and grimaced for a second. But Tim was deep inside her and the pain was bettered by knowing she was now a real woman.

"Don't stop," she breathed to him. "Do whatever you want now."

It took only a few more thrusts from Tim for April to start cumming. She almost regretted having waited yet she was thrilled to be experiencing sex with the handsome Tim. He seemed to know exactly what to do. His firm thrusting made her tits bounce in a lewd way and it excited her to have her body so out of control. The feeling of his cock was indescribable and she thought it must be God's will that such a mature, experienced man would be her first.

Tim enjoyed his first virgin fuck very much. There was no pressure on him and April's cunt felt as good as any of the few he'd experienced. She'd given permission to fuck her hard and deep and he'd succeeded in making her blue-veined E-cups shake and bounce. And there was no mistaking her pleasure as she cried out orgasm after orgasm. Were all religious bitches so hot?

"Cum, Tim. Cum," she cried out, eager to reward him

He had no reason to miss the opportunity. April was not as pretty as her sister but very hot and sexy in her own way. Her sister; what man got to fuck two sisters on consecutive nights? He'd already gotten his rocks off the previous night so why hold back now? He felt his balls boiling as he thought more about spewing his semen into April's tight hole. Her tits were really bouncing as he began to pound into her.

"Gonna cum inside you."

"Yes, Tim. Yes; oh;”

Tim let his lust overflow at that moment. He knew he was slamming harder into the once virginal hole. His cock was pulsing as jet after jet of semen flowed into the condom. And he was grunting loudly, pleased to show his own passion as he lay on top of April and took all the pleasure he could from her juicy body. She felt the triumph of a man unleashing his load inside her cunt.

"Was that good?" she wanted to know. Tim wondered the same about her.

"It was fabulous," she assured him. "I loved you fucking me hard."

He was glowing as well in the aftermath of his conquest. It didn't matter that April would have chosen any man who was willing. Tim had fucked a virgin and he'd given her satisfaction. He only hoped that the two church-going sisters weren't done yet.

Although he saw the sisters in the furniture store, neither of them made any effort to be alone with him for the next week. There were no unannounced visits to his flat. Tim wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him. Or was this part of their plan? if they had a shared plan.

Tim supposed that he didn't mind either way. He'd ended his drought and fucked two sisters; pretty, blonde, church-going types who were juicy and surprisingly horny. The sisters weren't staying away completely. He still had chances to get a good look at Summer's sexy legs and April's juicy tits.

And Mr. Karlsson appeared none the wiser. Tim was relieved about that. He did not need an angry father. Nor stories of his escapades getting back to the person who'd recommended him for this job. In fact, Mr. Karlsson had been spending a lot of time out of the store and Tim did wonder if there was a reason behind that.

He forgot all that when there a sudden knock on his door one night. It had to be one of the sisters. He didn't know anyone else in the area. Opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of the younger one, April. Once again, she'd left no room for misunderstanding, wearing a short skirt and a very tight T-shirt. It was obvious that she was bra-less. There was no need to say anything.

"I'm so horny for you," April blurted out before she was even through the door.

"Horny for me or horny for a fuck?" he teased her with a grin.

"Fuck me, Tim. I need it so bad."

Tim almost tore her shirt off as he pulled her to the bedroom. Her juicy tits bounced as she walked and Tim knew his cock was already fully erect. April did not seem to require the usual niceties in order to agree to sex. He greedily sucked on her hard nipples and squeezed the soft, blue-veined orbs of the young woman. How could such an innocent seeming young woman not only carry such enormous tits but come to him practically naked?

April was following Tim's lead, trying to get his clothes off as well. pretenses no pretense; she had wanted Tim's cock in her hand every hour of every day since they'd first had sex.

"I love your big cock," she said with confidence as she began to stroke him.

It was important to remember what Tim had already taught her about touching a man's cock. She was desperate to do it right and moved her hand carefully along the shaft. His groans showed that she was a fast learner. And April allowed herself for the first time to study the ridges and veins that adorned her first specimen of the male appendage. April, only just twenty-one, had a lot of catching up to do. But she knew that the correct thing was to kneel in front of his cock; it felt so natural with a strong, handsome guy like Tim; and barely paused before resuming her joy of fellatio. Holding a man's erect cock between her lips was even better than she'd imagined. And the way Tim liked to thrust his hips, forcing himself further into her mouth, made the fun even more intense.

Tim still could not believe his luck. Young April was on her knees sucking his cock and hungry for sex. He'd never had a girlfriend so eager. Perhaps only Summer could match her younger sister for lust. April's mouth fitted so well around his cock and he was proud that she thought it so magnificent. She was the chubbier sister but Tim did not mind that at all. Her huge tits were irresistible and he thought her just as pretty as he ran his hands though her blonde hair and indulged in fucking her sweet mouth.

"Your turn," he said gently to April, keen to get her properly wet before he pumped his cock into her.

"I shaved for you before I came over," she said with a shy grin.

Tim would have enjoyed her soaking wet cunt anyway. But there was something extra hot about April preparing herself to be eaten. And this time she was even more relaxed and comfortable. The handsome guy's mouth felt even better on her intimate parts. April knew she was being noisy but she couldn't stop her cries as Tim caressed her clit, swirling and flicking his tongue, and explored her hot entrance. She'd never known that her body could produce such a string of orgasms. He'd driven her into a frenzy of lust.

"Please fuck me, Tim. Please."

April rolled onto her back as Tim put the condom on his cock. He knew she was wet and he knew she was hot for sex. It took only two thrusts to fully bury his shaft inside her hungry hole.

"I love being fucked by you," she moaned to Tim as he began to move inside her.

"I want to fuck you hard," he murmured and there was no objection from the sweet, young April.

Missionary was not Tim's favorite position. Except that in the case of April it was the perfect way to watch her huge tits bounce and move as he began to fuck her hard and deep. A steady moan began from April as the handsome older guy began to ream her hole. April wan

Helping the Karlssons: Part 1.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 03 Jul 2026 18:16:00 +0000

Helping the Karlssons: Part 1.

Church-going sisters approach the new help at the shop.

Based on a post by m jar 65. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Mr. Karlsson owned a furniture store. Most of the stock was imported, high-quality. The global pandemic had upset business for a time. Until people started getting retrenched or working from home and suddenly many of his wealthy customers had time for renovations and home improvements. Business began to grow again.

Things went even better once his two daughters started helping. They worked a few hours each week, managing stock and orders while Mr. Karlsson took care of his customers.

Some customers, mainly the men, seemed to enjoy dealing with his eldest daughter, Summer. She was twenty-two and gorgeous, five-nine with a sweet face surrounded by long blonde hair. It was her habit to wear clothes that showed off her killer legs, C-cup tits and shapely, rounded ass. Mr. Karlsson assumed that such clothing was merely modern and fashionable. And Summer didn't mind the attention of the male customers in the least.

Her father was a deeply religious man. Since the death of his wife from illness he'd become even more engaged with his religion. And he had strong views about how a young lady should act. Boyfriends were not permitted. On the other hand, Mr. Karlsson knew very little about modern courtship or the behavior of young people. He had a mind to protect his daughters but he knew little about the lust of young men and never suspected what they really thought about Summer. Nor did he appreciate that she was a terrible flirt.

Summer had learned that from watching her mother. At first it had seemed like harmless fun. Mr. Karlsson seemingly had been oblivious to his late wife's behavior. More was the pity since she would have been grateful for more adventure in the bedroom.

Later, as Summer blossomed as a young woman, she'd also learned to enjoy the torment she could cause to her male admirers. The torment seemed only fair since Summer, too, felt the fire of lust. Just as she'd seen her mother do, it was a welcome distraction to make men blush and stumble over their words.

The younger daughter, April, never seemed to garner as much attention. Not from her father and not from other men. A year younger, she was a little shorter and her blonde hair framed a more plain-looking face. Her legs were not as shapely as her sister's. Her ass seemed a little too large. But April, too, appreciated the power that women have over men and was just as addicted to flirting. Her DD-sized tits were usually worn under tight clothes that displayed her wonderful cleavage.

Yet, April was acutely aware that men gravitated to Summer ahead of her. For a long time that had not mattered. Their father would never allow her to have a boyfriend. But, having reached her majority, April was also gripped by incredible curiosity about boys and a powerful lust to find out.

Their worlds were upturned when Tim came to work for their father in the furniture store. He was the perfect age as far as each was concerned. They both thought him handsome. And suddenly they had an excuse to spend time in the close company of a red-blooded male.

Tim was a good-looking young man. Aged twenty-five, he'd been stood down from his job not long after the pandemic really hit. Selling furniture was not his thing but he had a keen mind for business and a contact of a close friend had approached him about the job.

He knew from the start that Mr. Karlsson was a conservative fellow; the bible on his office desk was a dead giveaway. Like other men, Tim could not help but notice the two daughters when they came to the store. The younger one had huge tits that she seemed to always flaunt. The older daughter was a real looker and seemed especially welcoming on his first day.

Tim wasn't interested in chasing after the boss's daughter; either of them; since he intended this to be a short-term gig. Besides, it was a certainty that Mr. Karlsson had brought them up in a strict household and would object instantly if he suspected anything.

He could not help noticing, however, how much attention Summer, the older one, gave him whenever she was in the store. Tim was a healthy, athletic young man with a lovely smile. It wasn't unusual for women to smile at him or want to swap chit chat. After a few days, however, he put it down to harmless flirting; nothing more. It was strange that a young woman from such a religious family would behave that way. He'd assumed the sisters would be as straight-laced as their father.

Until his third week, Tim had tried not to pay much attention to the sisters. What he could never have guessed that Summer and April, despite trying so hard to be good girls for so long, were experiencing a deep lust for sex. Tim was the perfect opportunity.

The day arrived when Summer had somehow gotten to the store after study without a car. Would Tim mind giving her a lift home? Tim was happy, especially since it would keep him in the boss' good books.

What bothered him was that Summer kept wanting to touch his hand. She gave him that smile of hers and looked straight into his eyes. Tim knew enough to realize the danger. Surely it was a trap? Or a test? Mr. Karlsson was a strict man and he'd never accept Tim even thinking of messing around with his eldest daughter. But Summer was so sweet and she was giving out all the signals. Tim even wondered whether she'd undone one of the buttons on her dress before getting into the car. He got home with a boner and a sore head from trying to work out what Summer was up to.

When the same thing happened the next week, Tim knew something was going on. This time Summer was touching him and brushing against him as they walked to his car. One hand wrapped around his arm as if she was testing his bicep. She had to know she was making him crazy. But Tim still was certain nothing could ever happen. he had no idea about how horny and sex-crazed a "nice" young woman could be.

Because Summer was not like her mother in one important respect. Although a dedicated flirt, her mother had never done anything more than make men lust after her. She took her vows seriously. Her head was often filled with dreams of passionate love-making with other men, something more adventurous and fulfilling than her humdrum husband. The mother never took things any further. Summer, on the other hand, knew that she did not want to go through life like that; always wondering and never knowing. Despite promises of chastity (not least to her father) she had started to masturbate compulsively. And now handsome Tim had come into the store. She began to find excuses to help out whenever Tim was working.

April Karlsson had an altogether different reaction to the flirting between her sister and Tim. She knew exactly what Summer was up to. It always happened like that; the older, more beautiful sister got the attention and the rewards. But April, too, was feeling the power of lust. Already she'd embraced the sin of masturbation. She needed more. The younger sister began to sulk and to be rude to Tim when they were in the store together. And that was happening more often. It was feeling like a competition between the two sisters. Tim could not help but notice the difference in behavior.

After a week of that, Tim had almost had enough. He still needed the job and the money it gave him. But he was starting to think that the crazy behavior exhibited by the sisters was not worth it. He told himself nothing good would come from this; Summer was a prick tease and April was just a bitch.

It came to a head when April found a reason to be in the store late done day. She demanded a lift home and Tim felt he had no choice. All the way to the car she sulked and then she muttered something under her breath. He'd had enough.

"Jeez, April. Do you have to be a bitch all the time?"

"Me? I'm not the bitch. My sister is the bitch. Oh, but you like her and not me. Don't you?"

Tim tried to deny it. He didn't need the aggravation. But April wasn't about to let it go.

"She's always smiling at you and talking to you. And you let her and you smile back. It’s always her the boys talk to and never me."

"Jeez, April. I like you as well. But you can be pretty grumpy."

"Summer is beautiful and I've never even had a boyfriend. It’s not fair," she came back, seemingly on the edge of tears.

"I think plenty of boys like you. Just don't be so grumpy."

"Summer is not a virgin," she said with anger. "You know that? She had sex with a guy last year. But Father doesn't know."

"That's not really any of my business. Or yours."

But April was determined. She was incredibly horny and fed-up with not being able to do the one thin g that would really relieve that. Imagining her sister with Tim, having sex, had made her feel even more desperate. Now she was prepared to throw caution to the wind.

"I've got better tits than she does. Look."

Tim didn't want to look. He wanted to get out of this craziness. But if Tim had understood the power of the lust coursing through April he'd not have hesitated. They were sitting in his car and the young woman next to him was undoing her shirt to expose her juicy, bra-clad tits to him.

"Don't you think mine are better," she asked with the confidence of knowing her tits were bigger and fuller than those of her sister.

Tim tried not to look. It was all too crazy. He was going to quit the job and move back closer to home. But since April was such a bitch maybe he should take advantage of the situation? He was sure he'd never get anywhere with Summer.

"And I like anal sex," she told Tim boldly. "Summer wouldn't let any boy touch her there."

"If you are a virgin, then how do you know about anal sex? Or whether you like it?"

"Because I want a man to have sex in there," she said with satisfaction. "And I have been practicing."

Tim didn't usually discuss anal sex with virgins in his car. Nor did he usually grope them. But he turned again to April and suddenly she had lifter her shirt and her bra so that her juicy, firm E-cups were presented in all their glory. They were the biggest tits Tim had ever been that close to.

"See how big they are? Go ahead and touch them," she begged him with excitement.

"Am I the first guy you've ever shown your tits to?"

"Yes," she said with heavy breaths. "I want you to touch them."

The whole thing was too crazy. But April was a horny and perky young woman. Her tits were impressive, sitting high and firm and just there for the taking. And Tim was not above taking advantage, since he'd already decided to quit his job in the furniture store.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmured. "Your dad is my boss."

April didn't care. Her cunt was throbbing with need and she was determined to have Tim. He knew his cock was growing to its full seven inches. The fact he was the first to experience these beauties made the whole experience even more intense. Those huge orbs were soft and warm to his touch. And the nipples were thick and hard. He heard April sigh with pleasure.

"Touch them like this?" he asked as he began to fondle the young woman's tits. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, anything," she gasped to him. "Do anything you want."

Tim was relieved to hear that. He didn't regard himself as being overly experienced. Since April didn't know much of what to expect it took the pressure off him. He began to knead those big white tits and rub his thumbs over the fabulous, hard nipples making her breathe harder.

"I want to have sex with you," she said, almost matter-of-factly.

"Whoa, slow down," replied Tim, still cautious.

It wasn't that he didn't want to taste those big E-cups or put her hand around his cock. But how did a girl like April just say that she wanted to have sex? Something in his head was telling him to be the mature person. Or maybe it was the sense of danger.

"Not in a car. We don't have time anyway. Let's wait for next time."

He was already thinking it was a good time to be resigning his job in the furniture store.

The next night it was Summer who, once again, found a way to be at the store after closing and needed a lift home. Tim could already guess she'd flirt with him again. Surely the sisters weren't really serious? With their strict upbringing Tim was certain that as soon as he showed interest they'd run to their dad and he'd be in real trouble.

April had shown her tits to him the previous night. They were great tits. But was that part of a plan to lure him into disaster? Quitting made the most sense; even if he needed the money.

Summer was all over him again as they walked to his car. Happily it was dark outside and Tim felt confident that no-one would see them and somehow tell Mr. Karlsson. There was no doubting that Summer was keen. The way she touched him and rubbed his muscles made it seem like she was really after something. And it was making his cock harden.

"You have a really nice body," she said brashly as they got into the car. "I'm sure lots of girls want to go to bed with you."

"I play a lot of sport," explained Tim who also liked to workout.

It sounded lame. Was he just humoring her? Was the trap about to close?

Then Summer ran her hand up his thigh and placed it right over Tim's crotch. He jumped in response. Could that be part of the plan? Should he refuse now or try not to make her angry? Then her fingers cupped his bulge and she squeezed him gently.

"What are you? I'm not sure we should be doing this."

"I want to see your cock," she said with a naughty grin.

Summer was quite certain of that. She'd seen two "in the flesh" already. But she had told herself that Tim would have a magnificent specimen.

"That's not a good idea." He tried to caution. "Your Father wouldn't be happy."

"Father's not here," Summer responded as she started to move her hand over Tim's growing erection.

She had just enough experience to know how to make a man get hard for her; and to know what a delight it was to have an erect cock.

Tim thought it time to confront Summer. He was still thinking that she wasn't really going to go through with it.

"I thought you were a virgin. Have you ever seen a man's cock before?"

"I've seen cocks before," she confidently, now working to undo Tim's trousers.

Tim made note that Summer had not answered his question about her virginity. She sounded so confident. And she barely fumbled as she undid his trousers. Tim did not resist; why would he? He was going to resign his job at the end of the week. Would it be so bad to let Summer have her fun?

"Oh, it’s beautiful," exclaimed Summer as she finally extracted Tim's hardening cock. "The first one looked scary. But yours is gorgeous."

Tim tried not to blush but he felt his cock grow harder still. Or was that Summer's touch. She'd wrapped her hand around his shaft and started slowly stroking him. It was proof that Summer did, indeed, have some experience.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" he breathed quietly.

"Yours is number three," she said with obvious delight. "And you're the biggest. Don't worry. A boy showed me what to do."

She was bent over him now, keenly observing his cock and enjoying him swelling in her hand. Summer's repressed upbringing had not stopped her dreaming about boys and sex and all manner of lewd behavior. She'd always known that she liked boys and their cocks. Looking at them, holding them, feeling their veins and the soft skin had felt like real freedom. She'd known that she wanted more and now she had Tim in her young hand.

Tim had to admit that her inexperienced hand still felt good. He shrugged his pants down to expose himself more fully. Summer didn't object. Her gaze remained fixed on his cock as her hand worked up down the seven inches of his shaft.

"Men like to cum don't they?" She was enjoying the warm hardness in her hand. "They always like it when I touch them and then they want to cum."

"Yes," he breathed to her. "And sometimes we like to cum in a woman's mouth." She was being so outrageous and acting so confident that Tim no longer cared about the risks. He was more interested in pushing her buttons. "Have you had a cock in your mouth?"

"A few times. I wanted to. But never cumming."

"I'll cum for you if you want. But not tonight." Mr. Karlsson wouldn't like Summer getting home late and Tim didn't need an angry father in the picture.

"Can I put it in my mouth? Please?"

Summer barely waited for Tim's reply before she lowered her head and gently wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. He couldn't see what she was doing since her long blonde hair blocked his view. But he felt his cock pulse in her mouth. Summer didn't have the experience to match her enthusiasm. So Tim softly pressed on the back of her head, encouraging her to take more.

"It’s better if you go deeper," he instructed her as her tongue tried to swirl around his meat. "And then you move up and down like with your hand," he coached her, noticing how she followed without protest.

He couldn't believe he was teaching Mr. Karlsson's daughter to perform fellatio. But Summer enjoyed the lesson as she wrapped her lips tight while Tim moved her head up and down. Her mouth felt pretty good and suddenly he was keenly interested in the idea of shooting his load into the mouth of this pretty daughter of his uptight boss.

"That feels so good," he moaned to Summer. "You're learning fast. But we'd better stop now."

To his surprise she was not at all disappointed. She sat back on her side of the car with a huge grin. It was the face of triumph; all her flirting had worked and her female charms had convinced a man to show his cock. Her cunt was throbbing but Summer was willing to make these things last.

"I loved doing that. Let’s do it again next time."

That night Tim had a nice, long wank as he thought about the "next time" with Summer Karlsson. He imagined blasting a load all over that pretty face. Would she be up for that? Tim could guess that he'd be her first.

And he thought about April and what naughty action she was dreaming of. One thing was sure; Tim would hold off his resignation for at least one more week.

The following week it was April who stayed at the store late while Tim finished some paperwork. They'd had a good weekend. Summer had natural talent for sales; just as she did for flirting. It had been fun to watch the eldest daughter smile and fawn over the male customers. Even if some of the wives got pissed off, at least Tim had a break.

But now it was April and her huge tits that were on his mind as he shut down the computer. How was it that they managed to always be alone with him at the end of the day?

"We take turns doing the chores," she explained gruffly. "We help Father in the store but one of us has to be at home to help with the evening meal and stuff."

Tim could not have failed to notice that April, again, was in a bad mood with him that day. He'd been hoping for another play with those big E-cups. Finally he'd had enough and challenged her on being so pissy.

"You had sex with Summer. Didn't you? Last week."

Tim denied that flat out; which was true. That didn't mollify April.

"Why do you like her so much? Why don't you want you to do it with me?"

Tim was well aware that April was trying to manipulate him. Though it wasn't so hard when she was apparently so eager to have sex, with him. If only Tim could know what was on April's mind and the lustful daydreaming she'd been engaging in.

"I've been thinking about you a lot," he said with a smile.

That seemed to banish the pout from April's face. She began to run her hands over her dress, especially her bust. She was inexperienced but she knew that her tits gave her a power over men. She was horn

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 2.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 02 Jul 2026 18:03:00 +0000

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 2.

Being a Study Partner with an innocent busty goddess.

Based on a post by Magnus Bane Ragnor. Listen to the ►Podcast at My First Time.

"Eh, Jim?"

"Yes, Emma."

"I am so excited to study these techniques! Your mouth therapy did so much to improve my tense muscle constrictions. But I think your swelling is acting up again." said Emma, pointing at his crotch.

Jim, still embarrassed by it, quickly tried to cover it up with his hands.

"Oh, it's nothing." said Jim assuring her.

"How is it nothing? Look, it is swelling like a balloon, I think it is getting worse! Why don't you remove your shorts and let me have a look." instructed Emma.

Jim wasn't going to say 'no' to a woman like Emma, requesting to see his cock. He stood up, and in one motion removed his jogging shorts. His cock stood erect straight forward as a diving board bouncing up and down.

"Oh my, it looks worse than the last time, look how the head is all swollen purple." said Emma pitifully.

Jim could only grunt in an affirmative manner, nodding his head.

"Here, let me massage it; like the last time. Sit here and let me help you out."

Emma took hold of his stiff cock and with a thumb on his shaft and fingers underneath. She massaged in a circular motion with her thumb, from the base of his cock to the top.

Lucky for Jim, he spent the whole last day whacking off to his vivid images of Emma, and not just doing research. He wasn't going to come anytime soon, even when he was so worked up.

Emma kept at it for several minutes; changing hands when she got tired. But to her annoyance, it wasn't going down.

"Maybe, you should try the cupping method." suggested Jim.

"Right! That ought to do the trick." said Emma, enthusiastically.

With that, Emma went on her knees on the floor scooted up close. She put her face along side his rod, and opened wide. She took him in from the side and started sucking on the shaft of Jim's cock, moving up and down, playing him like a harmonica. Jim couldn't say anything except incoherent words in the form of moans.

Jim always kept his groin clean and shaved, so his balls weren't hidden under a layer of hair.

Emma, noticing Jim's balls; gradually followed suit and started sucking on each of them, alternatively. Now it was Jim's turn to be bucking with each suck. Emma diligently continued sucking his balls.

"Try; uh; suck; uh; ing; uh the; uh; he; uh; head;" managed Jim.

Emma quickly moved up the cock, taking in the head and sucking on it, Jim put his hands on her head and slowly nudged her down, Emma, taking the cue; went deep, engulfing his whole cock.

How Emma was able to do that without gagging, was something that didn't cross Jim's mind, because within seconds he was too busy shooting his jizz down Emma's throat.

A spent Jim laid on the sofa, Emma wiped her mouth and slowly got up, smiling delightfully. Finally she pulled up another chair. Then, sitting down on his side hugging him, she was still naked, her tits squishing on his arm and chest.

"Oh look it finally went down, does it hurt less now." asked Emma.

Jim, who was still in a trance of his orgasm.

"Huh? Un, oh yeah, thanks Emma, I feel a lot better now."

"You don't have to thank me, silly, It was my mistake. And even after that, you helped me out with this health class. You're the best."

Jim managed a smile and just nodded.

After a while they both dressed up and Jim took leave, Emma noticed as soon as Jim left, that he left his folder, she thought to return it back instantly, but decided she might have a look at it, and read up on what is next; to be better prepared tomorrow.

Several of the print-outs used words like 'yoga,' and 'tantric.' The back pages started talking about release of energy and the power of touch, massage, and release of mind and body. The diagrams make reference to 'erogena' and 'erogenous'. Emma knew that the key to this method of healthier living involves proper training of some key areas of her body. Her childhood modesty had prevented any healthy development in this aspect. In fact, she had to overcome significant shame, in order to advance her training. Emma decided she could trust Jim, and would fully commit to this regimen.

Taking it to another level.

At 8am The next morning, Jim opened the newly arrived box, he has recently placed an overnight order on Amazon for his gullible neighbor. Hoping this will make her go all the way. It was slightly expensive for something as mundane as it was, but The Loop wellness website, by Pwyneth Galtrow; sure likes ripping people off.

Later that morning, Jim made sure he was the initiating one, going to Emma. He didn't want her to think he was losing his enthusiasm to teach her.

Jim arrived at Emma's house at 9am, hoping to catch her early enough in the day. He rang the doorbell.

Emma opened the door wearing a tank top, which barely encased her bra-less boobs, and a short loose skirt which didn't cover anything beyond her crotch. Jim was wearing his usual jogging shorts and a white t-shirt, and left the underwear home because he knew it was always rewarding for him.

"Hi! Jim. Are we starting the session now?"

"Hi Emma! Yeah, I was hoping we could start. I didn't want to be a late-ass like the other day."

"Oh! Don't bother about it Jim. After how much you have helped me, I have got to say; I slept a lot better last night. It might be your cupping techniques."

"Er; Thanks Emma, and I am always happy to help anyone who wants help leading a healthier life, Shall we get started then?"

"Yeah sure, come right in, what's in the box though?"

"Oh! this, I got something to help with our lessons today."

"My my, Jim. That's very considerate of you, Remind me of however I can repay you."

'Considering what we are doing, I should pay you.' thought Jim.

"Never mind paying me back, it's lovely to help you out." said Jim.

"Oh, you're such a gem, Jim." exclaimed Emma.

Advance Tantra.

Jim placed the box on the table and proceeded to open it, inside it were a multitude of bottles and other boxes, but what he was looking for, was a small silk pouch. As soon as he found the pouch, he pocketed it and turned to face Emma.

"We will start off with the basic exercises first, to get your muscles going and warm up a little." said Jim.

"Okay, what should I do first?" asked Emma.

"We can start off with squats, or push ups? Whatever you like." said Jim.

With that Emma nodded her head, and assumed the standard position for squats, arms outstretched forward, legs a little apart, and down she went. Jim admired her tight ass, he casually placed his hands on her sides and made her jutting out towards him, "Yeah, that's right, that's the perfect position." encouraged Jim.

Emma did 30 reps of squats.

"Now you can stop." Jim said.

Emma stopped squatting, Jim started poking her ass, "Hmm; that's right; Going good; I see your posterior has become toned even with such little work. We can make great progress if we keep at it." said Jim.

"That's wonderful." cheered Emma, "What should we do next?"

"We should move on to some push ups."

"Um; I am not very good at it, Jim."

"No problem, I will help you." said Jim.

With that Emma assumed the position and started doing some push-ups. Sure enough after 4 push-ups, Emma was showing signs of struggle,

"Here, let me help you." said Jim. Jim straddled Emma, his legs on either side of her, his crotch inches away from her ass, He took hold of Emma's torso, directly below her tits and pulled her just a little to offer support. Every time Emma went down, Jim's hand moved a bit up over her big bust. After 4 more, he was pulling Emma up by her tits, he was sure to cop a squeeze out of them now and then. He could feel Emma's nipples poking directly on his palms.

"Okay, that's enough, you can get up now." said Jim.

Emma's tank top has been stretched, thanks to Jim's help, and lowered, exposing a deep cleavage, Emma hardly noticed it, still huffing and puffing from the push-ups. Jim proceeded to poke Emma's chest just like he did to her ass to "assess" the progress. Since, the push-ups were a little too intense, Emma's chest had actually become taut, the muscles had tightened up, and when Jim poked them, it hurt Emma.

"Ouch!?"

"What happened?" said a concerned Jim.

"It hurts when you poke like that, it didn't happen when you did to my um; posterior, but it is happening here."

"Oh that's nothing, it just means your muscles are all worked up to the maximum, that's what we want, but we should also work on the recovery process."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"With this." said Jim, moving towards the box on the table and taking out a bottle.

"Oh, what is this?" inquired Emma.

"This is an essential oils bottle, there are many extracts of various plants squeezed right into one to give you the ultimate benefits." explained Jim.

"That sounds nice, but how is this going to help me." asked Emma.

"I am going to massage this on your body, that's how it is going to help you recover."

"Right! Silly me." said Emma.

"Okay, let me apply some on your chest then."

"Sure go ahead." said Emma.

Jim took a few drops of the oil, and started massaging Emma's chest in circular motion, slowly moving outwards, then his hands went up towards her throat, and down to her cleavage, he started massaging her chest in a V Formation, moving towards the tank top, as soon as he reached near them, Jim said, "Emma, I am not able to massage your whole chest and the tank top is in the way and I don't want the oil to mess it up."

"Oh, no problem Jim. Here, let me remove it." said Emma, Emma flipped her tank pulling from the waistline, over her head, she wasn't wearing any brassiere, and her tits were out in the open, now she was just in a skin tight short standing in front of Jim, Jim was still in a trance even after feasting on the same tits less than 2 days ago. The magnificent nature of Emma's tits haven't dulled one bit.

"Right;, Um! Let's continue with the massage." Jim managed.

Jim took some more oil and started massaging freely over the redhead's tits, with the tank top gone, he had a free reign, he palmed both her tits and massaged them to his hearts content, occasionally flipping the nipples or twisting them, Emma was visibly worked up over this, her face was all red, and she was heaving loudly. Jim had to reluctantly move away his hands to proceed to the next exercise.

"That's it Emma, feel any better?"

"I feel great Jim, thanks for that."

"Oh, don't thank me yet, we aren't done yet, we should move on to working your abdominals, some crunches might do." said Jim.

Emma laid down on the floor, placing her fingers on the sides of her temple, she started doing crunches, her boobs flailing, and smashing each other whenever she comes up and spilling to her sides as she went down, Jim let this continue on for about 2 min, when he could see Emma visibly struggling to do any more crunches, he said; "That will do for now. Do your abdominals hurt the same way as your chest?"

"Uh huh, they do, even more so, I guess." complained Emma.

"That's nothing to worry about, as I told you before; it is your body responding to the exercise." assured Jim.

"Oh, okay Jim, are we going to use the oil on my gut, too?" questioned Emma.

"Yeah, we are going too do that."

With that Jim knelt down near Emma's abdomen, and took a few drops in his hands. As he was about to massage her, he noticed that the shorts she was wearing were high above her belly button.

"Er, Emma, I won't be able to apply oil on your abs when your short are in the way." said Jim.

"Oh, so silly of me, I completely forgot." said Emma.

She put her thumbs in the elastic waistband of the shorts and lifting her hips off the ground, gave the shorts a few good folds. The raised hips were close to Jim's chin and he could notice the few crimson pubic hairs that he had munched on, just the other day. Despite that, all of this was having an obvious effect on him, making him hard as a rock. He snapped out of his trance when Emma lowered her hips.

"Um, okay, that will do. Let me get on with the massage now." said Jim.

Jim rubbed her tummy and navel in a to and fro motion, alternately from both hands, his right hand close to Emma's tit, giving it a light jiggle every time he went up or down. Then after a while, he changed his technique from to and fro; to the circular motion with his right hand in anticlockwise direction, now definitely hitting Emma's tits, making them flail a lot more than before, Jim couldn't keep this up for long, because his plans entailed a lot more than just massaging and coping a feel of her tits.

"Okay, that completes our phase for this body part we can move on to the next phase, we will do lunges now." said Jim.

Emma started with the on the spot lunges, one leg at a time, Jim was waiting for the exact moment, if he was correct, it would happen in a minute.

And sure enough, as soon as Emma went on her right leg, she couldn't get up. It was as if Emma's leg didn't have anymore strength to pull her up. That was what Jim was waiting for. By letting her do squats first, Jim had strained her thighs. Now lunges strained her glutes and hamstrings. There was no way she could exercise her legs anymore.

"Jim? I am stuck here! It feels like my legs don't have any strength anymore." panicked Emma.

"Not to worry, Emma, try bending forward and using your hands to lay on your belly, I'll massage your legs to make you feel better." said Jim.

With Emma lying, Jim moved forward and quickly pulled her shorts down and off her legs. He could see that Emma wasn't wearing any underwear either. Probably the lesson from yesterday had a deeper impact on her than he thought. He took some more oil and started massaging her ass. Opening her crack, he poured a few drops on her puckered hole as well, and closed it, He was just testing his waters,

Emma didn't even flinch to it. She seemed like she was enjoying it. After her ass, Jim moved to her hamstrings, and started massaging them, he was careful to not touch her cunt this time, for the next phase.

"That should take care of the pain, now stand and tell me how you feel." said Jim.

Emma stood up. Buck naked, but now so comfortable in Jim's company, that she was unaware of her complete exposure.

"It feels amazing, and that was some serious magical oil! One moment I am not even able to do anything, and now it is like it never happened. You're seriously amazing, Jim." said Emma.

Emma hugged Jim in delight, squishing her tits in his chest, Jim could hold his excitement, but his cock was straining in his shorts, it was lucky that Emma didn't notice it, Jim reluctantly let go of Emma.

"Oh fuck, I am so sorry Jim, I didn't mean for this to happen, I completely forgot." Emma said, pointing at his shirt.

Jim looked down to see his shirt were stained with oil, and they were stained in the shape of Emma's tits.

"Oh don't worry about it, you didn't mean to do that, I'll just remove it." said Jim removing his white T-shirt, leaving Jim in just his shorts.

Stones of Stress.

"The next phase is a little tricky, and you might have never done it; but bear with me and you'll be benefited greatly.” Saying this, Jim took out a small string pouch from his pocket and green stone, the stone had a hole in it and had a long egg like shape, more vertically long than horizontally.

"What is that, Jim? Looks like a stone." asked Emma.

"The green stone is a jade egg, and the pouch has small crystals that act as weights, and have some energy that helps the body, we use the string on the pouch and tie it through this hole in the jade egg, this is used for specific exercises for pelvic muscles and develop core strength." explained Jim.

"Okay, so which body part does it train, and how can I use it?" asked Emma.

"Very well. Sit on this chair will you? And then I will demonstrate." instructed Jim.

Emma sat down on the chair facing him, Jim knelt in front of Emma and parted her legs. He pointed the jade egg towards her labia and said.

"We use the jade egg and push it inside your vagina. The pouch string is attached to the stone through this hole, here. You have to keep the jade egg inside while doing squats. This helps build your core strength and train your pelvic muscles. When it becomes easier, we add more crystals in the pouch to increase the weight." explained Jim.

"That sounds insane! But I feel like it makes a lot of sense, since it involves lifting a little weight to train the muscles, I'll try it out." said Emma.

"Great! Let me put in the jade egg inside you, and then we can move forward." said Jim. Emma slid her ass to the edge of the chair, slouching back.

Jim parted her lips with his index finger and thumb of his left hand, he could clearly see the wet pink pussy of her. It was mesmerizing, the musky smell was immediately in his nostrils. He placed the jade egg on the entrance, making Emma flinch a little because of the cold stone. He slowly pushed the egg inside, Emma's cunt was wet but not wet enough for the stone to go inside, Jim tried a few times to no avail, then he took the bottle of oil, and coated the jade egg with it, then he dropped a liberal amount of oil on her vagina too; and used his fingers to massage over it, occasionally using one finger to get oil inside her. After a few minutes of this, he was finally able to freely move his finger inside her and back out. He tried with the jade egg and sure enough, it went straight in, part of the reason was, Emma actually getting all worked up with Jim's fingering on her pussy. Her face was all red and she was breathing heavily. Now with the jade egg inside her, Jim removed all but one crystal from the pouch.

"Okay, now you can stand up and try to squat without dropping the jade egg out of your vagina." said Jim.

Standing up, Emma tried to tighten her ass and cunt, so as to avoid slipping the jade egg from her pussy, she tried squatting very slowly, because each moment she moved, she felt like the jade egg was slipping away. She was on her 5th squat when Jim said.

"Okay, now I'll add another crystal to the pouch."

Adding a little stone to the pouch might not seem much, but Emma was already showing signs of struggle, her pelvic muscles were cramping up a little, she somehow managed to do 3 more with the added weight. When Jim added another crystal without warning, it resulted in a squeal from Emma.

"Jim, I don't think I can do it anymore." pleaded Emma.

"Don't give up now, Emma, you're so close, just one more, okay?" encouraged Jim.

Emma was able to do 2 more but at the 3rd squat, she just fell to her knees.

"Are you okay, Emma?"

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow; it feels like a stabbing pain in my vagina, it feels like it is contracting inside me, folding on itself." cried Emma.

"Okay, let me help you up to the sofa and we'll see what we can do to ease up the pain." said Jim.

Jim reached around from behind Emma's back, and grabbed under her two big tits, then hefted her up enough to pull her torso over, onto the sofa.hoisted Emma by the shoulder and almost dragged her to the sofa.

"Let me take a look at your vagina." said Jim.

Emma, spread eagle on the sofa, with the pouch hanging from her vagina with a cord. Jim slowly pulled the string, to take out the jade egg from her vagina; but it only resulted in a scream from Emma.

"Okay, let me massage the area around it first, with the oil; so that it relaxes up a bit. And then I can take out the jade egg." announced Jim.

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 1.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 01 Jul 2026 17:57:00 +0000

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 1.

A Damsel's Gullibility, in the big city.

Based on a post by Magnus Bane Ragnor. Listen to the ►Podcast at My First Time.

It was a lazy day for Jim, He was enjoying his summer break all alone at home when his parents were away to celebrate their 25th anniversary, in Hawaii. His senior year at college would include interning at a major engineering firm. Then he expected to have his pick of the companies who'd been impressed by his 3.9 GPA at the university.

But Jim was in deep need of a break. His high grades came at a high price. It left him with a very meager social world, and a non-existent dating life.

He couldn't believe is luck, which seems to have jumped outside the window. Every single one of his friends has ditched him on their plan to travel to Maldives. Jim was now stuck in his parents home on a June Saturday morning. It seems he had nothing to do but count the days, as they passed.

"Great! Now I might as well go for a jog, thought Jim, to break his monotonous routine of eat, game console, fap, and sleep."

Jim's parents lived in a 4-story urban apartment complex, it wasn't like a usual complex, with hundreds of small crappy rooms. The builder had put in a lot of work, and being in a relatively posh area, each floor acted as a single apartment. That means there are only 4 units in that building.

Getting Exercise.

Jim hopped in the elevator and pressed the Lobby button. The doors slid closed and the elevator descended downward. Jim, barely knows anyone else, as it's his 1st time visiting his parents after they settled here.

The sliding doors opened very soon, at the lobby. But more importantly, it opened to the most jaw-dropping scene Jim could ever believe. There, right in front of him, was the backside of a seated goddess. She was bent away, apparently tying her shoe. But it accentuated the most gloriously packaged ass; in tight, high-cut denim shorts; he has ever laid his eyes on. Jim was dumbfounded, he couldn't get a word out of him, he just stared.

Soon enough, the woman stood up, holding a box, and turned to face him. He shook out of his brief moment of petrification. He looked up and saw a young woman of about his age, with red hair, tied in pigtails. She was wearing a neon green tank top which was barely able to encase a gorgeous pair of tits that were literally placed on the box she was holding.

"Hi, are you new to the building? I haven't seen you before," asked the young woman.

Jim took a second to get his voice back. "Hi, yeah; My parents live on the 4th floor, I came here for the summer break."

"Oh! That's great! My name is Emma, I live on the 2nd floor, I moved in here for college, my grandparents got this place for me. I am just moving in, This is the last of my boxes I am bringing up."

"Lovely. My name is Jim. Here, let me help you,"

With that Jim extended his arm to take the box from Emma, she gladly handed him the box and took the last of the boxes from the floor, giving Jim another view of that awesome ass. When Jim asked about her roommates, Emma said she didn't have any, nor had she even considered the idea. “The 3 bedroom, 3 bath flat is very large,” Emma acknowledged; “but so is the big trustfund my deceased parents left me.” Emma said with a content peaceful countenance.

Reaching the 2nd floor, Emma stepped out, into to the corner foyer. Big windows filled two walls of the ten foot by fourteen foot foyer. The elevator and stairway door spanned a third wall and the apartment door spanned the forth wall. The morning sun was casting a big trapezoid sunlight glow on the marble floor, where Emma put down the box; to fish the keys out of her apartment. Jim was obviously affected by the visual stimulus, and his cock started getting hard, he feared embarrassment as he was wearing short and it did little to conceal a hard-on.

Emma said she's going to be a college freshman. She was enrolled at the same private university Jim has been studying at for 3 years. As she unlocked the big oak door and held it for Jim to bring in the box he was carrying. Emma was behind him, carrying the smaller box she'd set down in the entry. Emma placed the box in a corner with a few boxes, and Jim followed suit.

“Thank you for the help, neighbor.” Emma smiled. “Please have a seat. I'd really like to ask a bazillion questions about the college, the professors, the neighborhood, and stuff. Can you sit for a bit?”

Emma presented him with a chair, Jim sat, taking extra caution to hide his erection.

"So Jim, would you like a drink or something?"

"Yeah, whatever you have, I don't have a particular choice."

"Okay, be back in a minute."

Emma returned with 2 bottles of beer, “They're probably still a bit on the warm side. I just put them in the fridge an hour ago.”

As she was handing one to Jim, he held it firmly while she twisted the cap off. The beer had been jostled too much during the move, and shot out a geyser of foam which landed directly on his lap, spilling beer everywhere.

"Ah! I am so sorry Jim, wait a second, don't move, I'll get something to clean this up."

Emma returned with a roll of paper towels, and got on her knees, then started cleaning up Jim's shorts, rubbing up and down, in all directions, over his thighs and crotch, oblivious to Emma, Jim had the most amazing view of her swaying tits from his angle, and a generous of her cleavage was on display, as she leaned forward to clean.

All the rubbing on his groin, and tit jiggling on display; had the usual effect on Jim. Predictably, his cock began to rise, he willed everything to stop it from happening but it was inevitable with all that was going on. Suddenly, Emma stopped rubbing and looked directly at his crotch with a puzzled look, he thought he was done for, and was thinking of a possible apology.

Medical Concerns.

"Um, Jim I think you have a big bump on your leg;"

"Ah, well Emma I am; ah, really sorry;"

"I think you got bruised badly, when the bottle hit you."

"Wait, What!"

"Yeah," Emma said nodding her head, "it looks like the area is swelling up! You might be hemorrhaging, Jim! Blood is pooling up right here.”

"Oh; okay, yeah I guess;"

Jim was a little confused, "was she really that naive, or just plain dumb?" He thought.

"I think I should take a look at it, to make sure it isn't something serious."

Jim couldn't believe his ears. He sat there, petrified; couldn't move an inch, fearing he was being setup for a joke. He scanned the room for surveillance cameras.

"Come on Jim, stand up"

Jim barely knew what to do. He stood up. Then, as soon as he did, Emma grabbed hold the waist band of his nylon jogging shorts and yanked it down. Jim's cock sprang up in place, then bounced a bit, and barely missed hitting Emma's face.

Emma; startled by it; was taken aback.

"Um Jim, what is that?"

'You've got to be kidding me' thought Jim. How can a fully grown woman not know what a cock is? This is bad dream, or I am on one of those prank shows, oh my!' Jim dreaded.

"Emma, Um; are you; serious? You don't know, what this is? Haven't your parents talked about it with you?"

"My grandparents raised me after my parents died in a plane crash, when I was 5. But as I got older, my grandparents did, too. We lived on a remote lake in northern Manitoba, near Hudson Bay. My grandparents hired a retired nun to be my nanny, Because they were getting so old. I was home schooled by Sister Nancy."

Jim figured the cause of this naive knowledge. He thought he could easily get out of this one if he played his cards right.

"Okay, well this is a; the scientific name is penis. All male bodies have it, as opposed to female bodies. We pee from this. We usually refer to it as a cock."

Emma giggled a bit, "You pee from that? And is this penis always this big and swollen like this?"

Now, Jim was not like hugely hung dudes, he had an average erect cock of 6 inches. Maybe more, if he was really aroused. But it probably startled Emma to be looking at it for the 1st time.

"Er; No, it isn't normally this swollen, it's aroused"

"Oh! It happened because of me. I dropped the beer bottle on it and it got hurt, and now it is swollen, I'm really sorry Jim. I ought to be more careful."

Jim didn't feel the need to correct Emma, or he couldn't because as soon as he was going to say something Emma lightly took a hold of his cock and started massaging it.

"Eh, Emma what are you doing?"

"I am trying to make the swelling go down by massaging it. It is what I always do when I have a bump or bruise." Some say ice is better, but I've always felt rubbing helps relieve pressure. Do you think I'm helping relieve pressure, Jim?”

Jim wasn't going to question her, he wasn't even going to stop her. Why would he? Here was this gorgeous woman, gladly willing to give him a hand job Never mind the fact she doesn't know it is a hand job. Best. Day. Ever.

Skincare.

Soon, Jim felt what was coming, and he didn't know what possible explanation he was going to give to her about this, after a couple more strokes, Jim's cock twitched, and started spraying hot gushing liquid all over Emma's face, Jim was ignorantly pumped a couple times and eventually he his spurts diminished both volume and velocity. He fell back into the chair, leaving a disorientated and confused Emma on her knees.

"What the hell! What is this? Oh god; this is so sticky, and has an earthy, pungent smell."

"Oh, it's just the detox release of the testicles," lied Jim for the first time, playing on the gullibility of Emma.

"Huh?" Emma gave me a blank expression of complete confusion and dismay. The jizz, dripping from her nose and chin, was so erotic. I want ed to take a photo for um; personal use.

"Once in a while, males have to release this pressure of excess liquid from their bodies, when it accumulates too much. Oh, don't worry; it isn't poisonous or harmful, once it gets out of the body. On the contrary, it is said to be very beneficial for women's complexion. Some studies even say they help women get wrinkle free skin. You can even eat it."

"Really?" Exclaimed Emma.

"Yes, you can try it out."

There was no reason for Emma to believe Jim would be lying to her. With that, Emma began rubbing Jim's cum all over her face, and when she was done, she licked her finger to taste the cum.

"He he he, tastes salty;"

"Yeah, don't forget to wash your face once it dries up."

"Oh okay; Hey look, your swelling has gone done, see my massage really worked, not only for me. He he he"

Jim smiled, and pulled his pants up. “Emma, thank you so much for the kind hospitality, and helping me through that swelling. I hope to visit you again,”

Emma literally glowed, from both her warm smile, enthusiastic countenance, and glistening glaze of cum. His cum. he took his leave from Emma and ran two flights of stairs, to his home.

What more will follow in this fucked up incident?

When pseudoscience actually works.

Jim woke up in the same incredulous state of mind that he was ruminating yesterday afternoon and evening. He still couldn't believe what happened on the 2^nd floor, yesterday. Everything happened so fast that he couldn't make any sense of it, or believe that it was real. He received a hand job from a gorgeous woman within 10 minutes of meeting her, and what astonished him the most was the fact that she doesn't know she did any such thing,

Jim was in deep thought, "how could anyone be so dumb?" Then his mind ventured to the natural progression; "Is this the absolute limit of gullibility, or can I push it?" Jim contemplated.

Jim was jolted back from his thoughts by the door bell, he got to the door and opened it, only to find Emma standing there in a pink tank top and black skirt. A moment of dread filled his heart, 'Fuck! She might have realized what I did, now I am done for.'

"Hi! Jim." greeted Emma.

Jim could only nervously smile. He finally uttered; “Hello, Emma!” and subconsciously invited her in.

"So, everything settled?" asked Jim.

"Oh yeah. The apartment is all setup, but I wanted to ask you something." added Emma.

"Sure, ask away." said a nervous Jim.

"Okay, I was searching through some websites yesterday, after I bruised you, and I found some sources that affirm what you said." with that Emma held up her phone.

Jim took the phone and read what was a shady unreliable website with the same thing he said, he took a seminar on something called pseudoscience and the dangers of misinformation, Jim knew this was fake science, websites only do this gain clicks, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

Handing Emma her phone back, Jim said, "Well, can't argue with science, can we?"

"I totally agree, that's why I came to you. You seem to know a lot about this stuff, I'm so careful about big pharma's scare tactics, and the horribly bad stuff they put in our foods. I was wondering if you could teach me how to live a much healthier life, I mean, it's not like I don't take care of my health, but we can always improve, and your ' facial treatment stuff' really helped my skin, too."

Jim couldn't believe it! All the while he was thinking to do something about the situation, a wonderful opportunity fell right in his lap.

"I guess I could help you; and yes I do know a lot about this stuff, I am studying science after all."

"Great!" excitedly, Emma did a little jump, her boobs nearly fell out in the process.

"When should we start?" asked Emma to Jim, who was mesmerized by her boobs.

"Uh! Oh yeah, we should start tomorrow, I'll form a routine for you and we can go over that tomorrow." said Jim snapping back to reality.

"Oh, thank you so much, Jim." with that Emma hugged Jim squishing her boobs into him.

"Oh no, thank you; Emma." Jim grinned.

All night Jim went over hundreds of pseudo-scientific pages ,looking over "studies," "facts," and "science;" to help her, and himself.

By early Monday morning, Jim had enough material. He decided to take a rest before he would start his "health class".

Jim woke up to a constant ringing of the door bell, he hurried up and went to the door, and found an annoyed Emma standing there, with an annoyed look about her. She was in skin tight black yoga pants, and red V Neck T-Shirt showing a little cleavage.

Before Emma could blow off her steam on Jim, he started.

"I am sorry Emma. I had to stay up all night looking up studies for you. I guess I might have overslept."

This put Emma in an awkward position, she quickly recomposed herself and sounded as though she was never mad at him.

"It's okay, Jim, you're already doing me a favor by helping me in this, why don't I come back later, then we can start."

Jim quickly added; "Oh no, it's okay, why don't we start now, we can go back at your apartment and do the class there."

"Okay!" said Emma gleefully.

"Let me just grab my folder of the research." said Jim.

Jim wasn't going to make it sound like he wasn't serious about it, he wanted Emma to trust her, and what person wouldn't trust someone who has all the graphs and data with him.

All the way to Emma's apartment, Jim stayed a step back from her, admiring her sweet ass, that was tightly encased in those yoga pants, tracing the outline of her panties with his eyes.

Emma's apartment was fully setup now, Emma might be gullible but she wasn't a slacker, her stuff looked expensive, definitely someone with money, and was tastefully placed, Jim was actually impressed by that.

"Do you like?" asked Emma.

"Looks absolutely fantastic." exclaimed Jim

Emma's face lit up with that appreciation.

Bringing his attention back to the main task, Jim said.

"Okay, we will start off with basic stuff and move on to more advanced level as we go."

Emma seemed to agree with that.

"First off we can start off with basic stretching, why don't you try bending at your waist and try to touch your toes."

Emma turned around and did that, her ass forming a perfect heart shape, Jim almost fainted from such perfection.

"Now, hold the position while I make sure you aren't doing it wrong."

With that, Jim went forward and "inspected" her pose, he kept both his hands on Emma's ass while his groin inches away, he wanted to dry hump so bad, but he calmed himself, "all in good time" thought Jim.

He moved forward and poked a bit on her back with his fingers, making it sound like he was assessing something, with lots of "hmm" and "Okay."

"Okay, you can get back up." said Jim.

"Did I do good?" asked Emma.

"Yeah, you did, but I seem to notice something, there is some sort of tightness in the muscles of your posterior and back."

Emma blushed a little with the mention of her posterior, but said.

"What is it?"

"Well, it means you're wearing some sort of restricting clothing that causing the blood vessels to constrict, that's what tightening your muscles, your muscles need adequate blood flow to function properly."

"Okay, so what should I do then, to improve the blood flow?" inquired Emma.

"I have read a study which states that undergarments can cause such restrictions, you'll be better off without them." said Jim with a straight face.

Emma looked a little taken aback, there was doubt and a little embarrassment on her face, to ease her up, Jim showed her the study on his folder.

"Okay Emma if you don't believe what I just said you can read it here." handing her the folder."

Emma read through the study and sure enough there it was, Jim was covered in his claims by the dubious 'study' posted at a very dubious blog. Now for the final hit.

"But it's okay, if you don't trust me, we can move on to something else."

That was a blow to Emma, she quickly replied.

"No, it's okay, it was so uncool of me to doubt you, when you're trying to help me so much, I'll be back in a minute."

With that, Emma dashed into an adjacent room.

After about 5 minutes she emerged, there nothing and everything different about her at the same time. Jim could see her round boobs bouncing with each step, a little outline of her nipples was visible, not too hard but you can instantly tell there was only one item of clothing between you and the goods.

"Okay, let us move on to the next step." Jim said, faking disinterest, which seemed to assure Emma a little that nothing was amiss.

"Guide me, sensei." joked Emma.

"Since we just solved the restricting clothing problem, for our next step we can try a light massage, why don't you lay down on the sofa and we will start the massage with your back."

Emma quickly complied. Jim moved near her legs, the sofa was long enough to leave a lot of space around her legs, so Jim slowly straddled her thighs but still keeping a distance from her. He moved forward and started massaging her shoulders, he was directly on top of her, just maintaining a safe distance with the help of his knees. He moved lower, massaging with his thumbs along her spine and his palms outstretched over the rest of her back like wings, her boobs were squished against the sofa and spilling on the sides, he was lightly grazing, taking a little feel of her boobs with his fingers. Reaching her lower back where her T-shirt and yoga pants met, there was a thin gap of exposed skin, he slowly moved downward and massaging up, exposing more and more with each rub.

When half of her lower back was exposed Jim moved over to her ass, he put his palm directly on both her ass cheeks and starte

The Flu: A Pandemic Escape on a Sex Farm

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 30 Jun 2026 14:29:00 +0000

The Flu: A Pandemic Escape on a Sex Farm

Lusty young immigrants escape global plague on a Wisconsin farm.

By MVP6. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Ustin and Manon met while on holiday in Prague and fell in love at first sight. Ustin was Russian and Manon was French. He loved Manon's impulsive ways and she loved his strong resilience. They were the poster-couple for young beauty, love, and little more than dreams.

Other than the language of love the only words they shared in common were a smattering of Portuguese. Nevertheless, theirs was a whirlwind romance ending in engagement after two short weeks.

They were back in Shuvalovka by the end of the next week, getting married the very next morning.

That was the day a letter arrived from Manon's uncle in America whom she had only met once as a small girl. Neither of them could read English and when they had it interpreted they learned that he had passed away and left them a small dairy farm in Wisconsin, a plane ticket, and a French/English phrase book.

Ustin sold his '64 Zaporozhet, emptied his bank account, and liquidated all his assets, which were not worth much since the collapse of the Russian stock market. Together they had enough to buy another plane ticket and embarked that same morning.

Manon was seated in first class while Ustin was relegated to third class, but they were overjoyed at least to be on the same plane. If they had known about the mile high club there is no doubt that they would have consummated their, as yet, unconsummated marriage. Alas they were just thrilled to be starting a new life together. Their plan being to first establish financial security, and only then to have children.

When they arrived in Milwaukee Ustin was worried that they wouldn't have enough money left to take a cab to their new farm - let alone buy anything to eat, and he did his best to communicate that to Manon.

She had no cares about food, being so engrossed in her new role as blushing bride. But she was very worried, for no good reason, that if Ustin did not take her virginity officially as a married couple that they would be deported. She had spent the whole flight looking through her phrasebook trying to find the right words for "deflowering."

By the time she told Ustin what she wanted and he tried to look it up using his recently purchased English/Russian phrasebook, what he understood was that she wanted him to weed her cat.

He just smiled weakly and drew her close in a warm embrace, but since she was pointing frantically to her pussy, he imagined that 'weeding the cat' meant she wanted him to bury his face in her pubes as soon as possible.

He had no objection to throwing her back on their new honeymoon bed the first instant they arrived in Cambridge, WI to then 'graze the watercress,' which would have been the french way to say it if any of the risque words at all had been in his phrasebook, or if either of them owned a Russian/French phrasebook.

Full of excitement and fear they held hands, as only new lovebirds would, and never let go until he carried her across the threshold.

True to his understanding of her expectations Ustin promptly carried Manon to the bed, threw up her dress, and lapped studiously at her moist nether lips until she, taking a fistful of hair in each hand, pulled him up.

She could taste her own pussy on his lips and it turned her on, though Ustin would not know that for quite a while, and at the moment, he was put off because she was rummaging around in her purse - trying to retrieve some condoms.

Their first time as newlyweds in their new home was amazing as they explored each other's bodies and each other's desires. Perhaps it was even better as they could barely talk and they needed to rely on moans and smiles that much more to know what the other liked.

Next they explored the farm and discovered that they had inherited a dairyless dairy farm. If they could have read English they would have found the letter from the animal control officer at the police department telling dead Uncle Charles that all the animals had been impounded because they were being neglected and that they would be returned after a hefty fine was paid.

Still, they were the proud owners of a farmhouse, a barn, a shed and a few miscellaneous buildings on about ten acres of beautiful midwest rolling fields, and they fucked in each building as well as in the middle of the fields the first week.

That first year was a year of unbridled sex which at least once included a zuchinni from the garden that Manon had planted so they could set up a farmers market and earn some money to buy cows. No one ever came to their market as they were a bit out of the way, but Manon did manage to can about two hundred pounds of vegetables and store the jars in the tornado shelter.

One day they were passing the empty mink cages which came with the farm and Ustin was grinning stupidly and gesturing rudely that they should make like the minks and screw wildly.

Always ready, Manon grinned, and that was all it took. They shed their shirts rapidly, then impulsively Manon decided it would be fun to climb the ladder up to the loft. Shaking her skirt she beckoned, "Attrapez-moi." Then wiggling her butt enticingly she flashed her cunt to her dear husband and he scrambled up as fast as he could, sticking his nose amid her aromatic cleft from underneath her on the ladder every time he caught up.

Playing the game she would let him lick her puss for a few minutes each time before scrambling further up the rackety ladder. They were a very orally inclined couple, which worked in their favor whenever they were far from the bedroom, where they kept their limited, and expensive, supply of condoms.

Rolling in the proverbial hay, soon enough they were pleasuring each other simultaneously. For the first time ever she saw another person's back door. Glimpsing his tight bung briefly she wasn't grossed out, rather, she was worried that he would see hers and that he would be grossed out.

Likewise, Ustin did see hers but his only thought was, "It's surprising that it's not a turn off." They still finished each other off taking the time to burrow into each other's privates at length.

Unfortunately, it was later when they jumped down from the loft naked, that they both sprained an ankle and found themselves housebound for a couple of weeks. It was also one of the best things that could have happened to them.

Not only did they recline in each other's arms all day and make love often, but they couldn't make any trips into town which had, unknown to them, quickly taken a dangerous turn.

A flu pandemic had begun that day they kissed each others' sex parts in the loft and it was spreading rapidly to anyone who was unlucky enough to interact with just about anyone.

By day two, 20% of the nation had what was not an ordinary flu and some with weakened systems were already developing pneumonia or dying from other complications.

By day five, and unknown to the young lovers, the TV they rarely watched, was advising all citizens to stay home and warning that the health department would be out culling chickens who were the source of the flu.

The frisky couple never even knew that the army-green jeeps and an old commandeered truck, arrived to kill and pick up chickens. You see, at the time Manon was bent over an odd apparatus in the water-shed with Ustin's tongue delicately circling and stabbing at her cute pink asshole.

Anilingus was minutes new to both of them since they had just discovered it. They didn't even know what it was called in any language let alone with any shared words.

Only two hours before They had been wandering the North pasture when it started to drizzle and they happened upon the stone structure built over a stream. Inside they found an odd mechanism and with some experimentation figured out that it's purpose was to divert the stream so it flowed either East or West.

That's not really relevant to the story. What was pivotal was that, while turning a large wheel made from a barrel, Manon had fallen prone across the device and screamed out as she slipped. Ustin, with his developing English, misunderstood her emerging English. Thinking she had blurted out something meaning, "Tongue my ass" as she threw herself over the barrel, he decided it was a brilliant suggestion and put himself to the delightful task immediately.

Meanwhile, finding herself in danger of being rolled over to the other side she shrieked joyfully when he grabbed her by the hips. She was totally shocked, but pleasantly surprised, when with a pucker he kissed her sensitive sphincter. She didn't know enough about sex to think it either mundane or bizzare. After the first swipe at her delicate brownie he asked, "Da?"

She spoke that much Russian, and he knew enough French to throw himself into the act when she replied, "Oui! Oui!"

Together the lovers learned that they really craved the act, so he spent a considerable amount of time just licking her gratified asshole.

Ustin was thinking, "Amazing how every part of my girl is so sexy, from her smile to her toes, she's the best. It's strange how even her shitter turns me on. A woman's pussy is an obvious and natural object to worship with its enticing odor and soft lips. But for as much as I love to nibble and bite, pulling on her labia, it's just as great to get my lips on her arse."

"Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that I would lick a girl's butt, but Manon is so special and her crinkled ring just draws me in." He took a deep inhalation, "Marvelous! Even her ass smells good. Earthy and musty but fresh. I want more."

He decided to run his tongue around it in circles, feeling the tiny donut shape. "It's incredible how this majestic feast normally has such a base function. I can't get over the rubbery firm texture - so different from her kiska."

He wondered if he could get his tongue inside like he did when he ate her quim. Backing off a few inches he used his fingers to massage her perineum and anus. Then getting one thumb on either side he stretched it out barely able to see inside. "OK let's see if I can get my tip in there. If it's ever gonna taste bad, now will be the time." Talking out loud he spoke to himself in Russian,

"Are you ready Ustin?"

Listening to him talk to himself back there, Manon had her own conversation going even if it consisted almost entirely of mewling moans and delighted sighs. In perfect Portuguese she whimpered the most appropriate phrase she could think of that he would know, "Do you like your dinner?"

Ustin laughed out loud, breaking the mood of raw sexuality briefly. Then also in Portuguese he answered, "You are a most hospitable host." Then returned to his quest to meld his mouth with her rectum. He formed his tongue into a point then poked.

Manon squealed, lifting her bum.

He barely got any in her but wanting to have a penetrative experience he rubbed two lanky fingers along her newly stubbled puss, In broken English he asked, "You want me finger to your mog?"

She had no idea what he meant but she was willing to surrender herself to whatever he desired. To express her openness she relied again on a Portuguese phrase, "My house is your house."

Wetting two of his fingers, with the unpracticed thrust of one fairly new to sex, he jammed them fully up her fanny. She jumped in surprise, partly due to the sudden vaginal intrusion but mostly because she was expecting him to slide a single finger up what she would have called her trou du cul.

He continued to lap at her starfish fucking her gash with his fingers. He became engrossed in the crude pastime letting his lust carry him away. When her body went tense he worried that he was hurting her in his wild sexual frenzy, then realized she was having an orgasm from the combined anilingus and fingerbanging.

Overjoyed to have found a new way to bring her off he fell back on his haunches, satisfied.

Coming down from her high, Manon wanted to do something for him now. Turning around she fell to the floor with her back to the wheel. She beckoned for Ustin to stand before her, pulling him by the cock.

Manon was hardly more experienced than Ustin in the ways of sex. Her one previous boyfriend had wanted to face-fuck her which she had not allowed. But now she wanted to give all of herself, in every way, to this man she loved.

She formed a circle with her left thumb and forefinger then using the forefinger from her other hand she made the universal gesture for fucking.

Ustin stepped forward presenting his hard cock to her mouth. But she wasn't done yet. Next using the same gesture she slammed her finger into the circle violently hoping to communicate what she was offering.

He was sure he was reading her wrong and definitely didn't want to hurt the woman he loved. But she insisted saying, "Bes moi! Bes moi! Bes moi!", pounding on the barrel.

He moved even closer inserting his swollen cock into her mouth. They were both full of expectation as she grabbed his thighs pulling him deeply into the back of her mouth quickly.

Towing above her, with his hands on the barrel, he was thrilled that he had married such a sexual wife.

They were both mistaken and they learned it the hard way. Manon gagged and sputtered completely unable to accomplish what she'd imagined she would do for him.

He pulled out, falling to his knees. Looking into her teary eyes he rained penitent kisses all over her tortured face. They both apologized to each other profusely in their respective languages and they both understood intuitively what the other meant.

After hugs of reconciliation she regained her composure. She pointed to her lips saying, "R essayons"

As thrilled as he had been a moment before to be married to such a sexpot he was a thousand times more thrilled now to be married to a more naive girl who loved him so selflessly.

Standing up he stroked her face gently before presenting his now softened organ to her.

She drew his dick into her mouth, inexpertly sucking on the first couple inches until she was rewarded with her first taste of cum.

Looking down on her, awestruck, as she swallowed, there was never a more earnest feeling of admiration communicated from one human to another.

Afterwards they held each other.

Now, if they had brought condoms with them they might have just screwed and been done with it. But then they would have returned to the farmhouse much earlier and met the infected visitors.

The national guard found no chickens and left without incident, doing no more damage than nailing a poster to the front door that Ustin had so carefully painted red with a stylish and artistic barn-star.

One morning, 'Котенок', or 'kitten', as Ustin called her woke him with a fantastic and more practiced blowjob, then wiping her lips with the back of her hand, lazily rolled over to turn on the TV for the first time in a while.

Slowly it dawned on them both that something was terribly wrong with the outside world. Secluded in their own little love nest they did not know that 40% of the population had gotten sick and they did not realize that 80% of the sick had died. While they knew little English they understood the terrifying math perfectly. Additionally, the images on TV painted a horrible picture of what was happening which to them seemed like the end of the world.

That was also the same day that, first the TV, and then the electricity went out. By the 15th day of the pandemic there were no more airplanes in the sky and even several miles away from the main part of Cambridge the world was eerily silent by day and oddly dark at night.

Manon and Ustin held each other close during the long nights and clung to each other as they had never done before. The house was cold and they cuddled for warmth as much as for reassurance.

Kitten cried bitterly and refused to let Ustin walk into town to see what was happening, so he stayed home rather than drag her along, hanging onto his arms, which is what she would have done to stop him.

Instead with his shirt off he worked up a sweat and an appetite cutting firewood to heat the house at night. Manon hugged him from behind as he took a break enjoying the slipperiness of his sexy body glistening and

tanned in the sun.

The electric water pump hadn't worked in weeks and they both smelled musky but then again they had learned to appreciate the various smells produced by their young and hard sexy bodies. Her tiny hand reached into his zipper and worked his hefty growing member into a full state of arousal.

She pressed her firm and pert boobs against his back while he reached back and held her waist.

Out by the fallen log,and yet again lacking any birth control, she turned, then rubbed his pre-cumm slicked foreskin sheathed cock against her rear door to communicate her intent...

The next day they walked to the water-shed carrying a water bucket and wearing nothing but shoes, then made sad, sweet love, again on the barrel, as much to connect as to relieve tension, worry, and, a touch of lust, that wouldn't go away even in those dire times.

The next couple of weeks they imagined the worst. Thinking they were the only couple left on earth, a modern day 'Adam and Eve,' they toiled hard all day long working the incomplete farm to make provisions for the winter.

They continued to make love every night to cement their love as much as for any other reason. They began to make forays away from the farm to see what they could learn. The nearest neighbor's house was a mile and a half away; nothing was there.

Depressed and numb they walked further toward town not even remembering to put on clothes as they had become accustomed, in the early fall heat and lacking air conditioning, to go nude.

Nearing another house they again found no one, but seeing some wash on the line, they realized they should dress. Nothing fit and they shared a fit of hysterical laughter to break the somber mood.

Deeply disheartened they went home without walking the last ten miles into town, discarding the ridiculous and comical clothing as they went.

The next morning, just before sunrise Котенок woke Usty and pulled him outside to be a witness to the new day. She had a small spade with her and as solemnly as she could buried all their remaining condoms. Offering him a page torn from his phrasebook he saw that she had circled the word "repopulate."

After a lunch of kislaya kapusta also known as sauerkraut, they disrupted their routine of constant work to do what they had never done before; vaginal sex without protection.

In the Recovery Room.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 29 Jun 2026 18:05:00 +0000

In the Recovery Room.

Nurse had unique method to help with his recovery.

Based on a post by yellowjacket 66. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The Emergency Room.

I was almost totally out of it. I was in the recovery room at the hospital after knee surgery. I'd messed up my ACL after a fall in the shower. The doctor was attempting to reattach some ligaments and muscles. I hoped it would ease the pain I'd been having and restore the strength in my knee. I'd been less than cooperative in the pre-op exam, when the surgeon asked me a series of questions about how the ligament tear had happened.

The full truth is; my wife slipped while I was pumping it into her ass from behind. I tried to catch her when her other leg slipped. In just a fraction of a second, I was on my ass, screaming in pain and her ass had landed on my left knee. A hot searing pain consumed me.

Emergency Room.

Gloria and I were in the E R exam room when the orthopedic surgeon pulled back the curtain and introduced himself. "Hello, Glen; I'm Doctor Henderson. I've looked at your MRI and I have both good and bad news."

The surgeon looked at my wife, with her wet hair still a mess. She'd managed to slip on a hoodie and sweatpants before the paramedics arrived at our house. "Uh, Gloria? Is it?"

"Yes;" my wife confirmed.

"the good news is, no broken bones. The bad news is a torn knee ligament, which takes longer to heal than does a fibula. I've only seen these kinds of tares when football players get tackled by linemen, and land in an unfortunate position. What was Glen doing when he injured himself?"

"Uh, helping me; Helping me get out of the shower."

"Ah, that solves the mystery." Doctor Henderson said, winking at me. "We're going to do surgery to re-attach an important ligament, Glen. The Operating room is available now, and I think we should get this done, if you want to have full use of your leg again."

An hour later, the anesthesiologist was injecting some liquid into my I V drip. Then I heard a soft, oddly familiar voice; "Hello, Glen."

The Recovery.

As I came to, a nurse was beside me, checking my vitals and disconnecting some wires. She checked my blood pressure. She was pretty, and looked familiar. In my groggy state, I couldn't remember how I knew her or her name. "Please stay still. Your surgery went well, but you're still very tender." She was standing next to my right knee, my good one.

She propped my head on a pillow and arranged the blanket over me. As she was fooling with the blanket, her arm slipped underneath. I thought she was arranging the gown I was wearing, one of those hospital things that tie in the back. She began to rub my stomach.

I was too out of it to be surprised when she fondled my cock, under the blanket. In my semi-conscious state, it was like a wonderful dream. She was feeling around, checking my nuts, making sure they were comfortably resting between my legs. She had a most pleasant grin on her face. I realized she was holding and stroking my aroused cock. It felt really good. My shaft was becoming erect, going from the completely deflated, under-anesthetic state; all the way to a full-blown hard-on, in a few seconds. She really got my blood flowing and aroused my sedated mind, definitely an effective recovery practice.

She said, "You were very sedated, Glen. We are trying this new technique to help patients recover from anesthesia."

I was incoherent in my response, but mumbled that what she was doing felt good.

She knew my name, but that was on my chart. I still thought I knew her.

By this time, I had a raging boner. Her hand felt really good, sliding along the length of my happy cock. She seemed to have some lotion that eased friction.

She asked, "Are you coming around?"

I mumbled yes. She held up some fingers, but I couldn't tell how many.

She resumed her efforts to revive me, through my penis. It was an amazingly effective technique. My blood was flowing and my body was becoming awake. Her hand was stroking me methodically, enough to keep me stimulated, but not enough to make me come. The automatic blood pressure cuff inflated again, and she saw that my vitals were good.

She said, "You don't remember me, do you?"

I was now a bit embarrassed. "Yes, I remember you."

"What's my name."

I pause a bit, then had to admit, "I don't remember. I'm still groggy."

She laughed. "I had a crush on you in high school. I'm Debbie. I was a year behind you."

My mind was coming around. I did remember her. She was a cute girl, a cheerleader. We'd never dated. I had a steady girlfriend back then. However, I remembered her. The cheerleader with the best bouncy jiggle.

"Nurse, I remember you now. You were very pretty. If I hadn't been with Michelle, I would've asked you out."

"Was, you say? I was; very pretty?" Debbie protested.

Oops. "You still are." I remembered her cute body in her cheerleader outfit, those sexy legs and how her swaying skirt emphasized her fine ass.

She smiled, "You better say nice things about me since I have your cock in my hand."

She was pumping a bit faster. I was close.

Then, it happened. The sensation consumed my body and cum spurted from my dick. She kept her hand there; it was covered with my cum.

She pulled her hand out from under the blanket and licked the semen from the palm of her hand and her fingers. Then, she pulled the blanket back, leaned down and took my prick in her mouth, gently, and slowly, sucked the last few drops and licking me clean.

Smiling as she looked up at me; "I've wanted to do that for a long time." She said.

I regained my composure and thanked her. She was writing on the medical chart. She recited what she had written, "Patient fully revived, fully responsive."

She smiled at me, turned and left. I watched her cute ass wiggle as she left the room. I dozed off.

Going Home.

An hour later, I was getting ready to go home. My wife Gloria was helping me. As she was helping me into the wheelchair, Debbie, the nurse who had helped me recover, stopped in to say hello and make sure I was doing okay. She explained the instructions for my recovery and rehab. "Someone will come by your house tomorrow to change the dressing on your wound, and check your pain level." Gloria got our car while the attendant wheeled me to the curb.

Driving home, Gloria mentioned, "That nurse said she remembered you from high school."

"Yeah. I didn't remember her name. She was a year behind me."

"She's cute."

I lied and said, "I hadn't noticed."

Gloria just laughed. She knew I was a connoisseur of lovely women.

She asked, "So, you never dated her or anything?"

"No. I was going with Michelle. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, she just seemed to have a thing for you. She remembered a lot about you."

"I hadn't noticed."

Gloria didn't believe me. "That anesthetic must've really knocked you out."

"I guess so."

I was recovering at home the next day. Gloria was at work. The dog barked when someone came to the door. I knew it would be the nurse to check my knee. I checked the doorbell camera on my phone, and said; "It's unlocked. Come on into the living room."

Gloria had left a note too. I heard the nurse coming in the house and I hollered for her to keep coming back; "Come into the living room." There I was lying on the sofa.

Home Health Visit.

I was surprised to see that the visiting nurse was Debbie.

"Hello." She said.

"Well, hello, again."

"Surprised to see me?"

"Pleasantly surprised." I said.

She said, "I do some home visitations on my days off, to earn a little extra money. I asked for this visit, since I'm familiar with the patient."

I smiled, "Familiar is a good description."

She asked how I was feeling, took my temperature and checked my pulse and blood pressure. While she was doing that, I couldn't help but notice her perfume and her attire. Her white dress buttoned up in front, but was unbuttoned, to just below her cleavage, and I caught glimpses of the tops of her breasts as she did her work. She was wearing white thigh-high sheer stockings. Her hemline was conservative enough, but couldn't hide her figure. I remembered her cute ass from the recovery room.

She said she had to check my wound. I was wearing just boxers and a pajama top. I hadn't thought to put more on. It was painful to move my knee when dressing.

She lifted my leg to remove the bandages. While she was manipulating my leg, I wondered if my cock and balls might be exposed. Silly me, I was being shy, despite what had happened in the recovery room. At the same time, I was looking down her blouse and my cock was beginning to get aroused again. Her hands were touching and feeling my leg at various locations. She was turning me on. I noticed her looking at my tented boxers, through the corner of her eye; and saw a little smile on her face.

She asked if I was in pain.

I told her only when I moved certain ways. She began to test, looking for swelling that might indicate an infection.

Moving my leg to gently flex my knee; she pressed her fingers into the tendons and muscles around my knee, asking where it hurt.

"Does it hurt when I do this?" She would ask, and I would answer. Usually, it didn't hurt.

When's the last happy pill you took?

"About 3 hours ago;" I said.

As she continued, her hand moved higher on my legs, pressing the muscles on my thigh. She was getting farther from the point of surgery and closer to my rocket.

Finally, she just slid her hand up my loose boxer leg and grabbed my cock, squeezed it, and asked, "Does it hurt when I do this?"

I acted unsure, and didn't respond, so she did it some more. By now, my cock was hard and she had it firmly in her hand.

She asked, "Would you like me to give you a sponge bath. You're not supposed to shower for a week."

I readily agreed. She went to the bathroom and returned with a basin, soap, washcloths and towels.

She gently helped me up, then had me lay on one towel, and I removed my shirt.

She said, "I don't want to chance hurting your knee, but I have to remove your shorts."

She had a solution. She pulled scissors from her bag and began to cut away my boxers.

I was leaning back on the couch and this lovely woman was cutting away my last item of clothing. She was deliberate about it, cutting slowly. She kept my cock out of the way with one hand while cutting with the other. It was surreal, having her get me completely naked while I sat there with a hard-on. Whatever her intentions were, I was agreeable. I resolved to be a good patient.

Once my shorts were gone, she began the bath. She had a basin with soapy water and rubbed the cloth over my chest, getting my stomach and under my arms. She would move close to my cock and then move away, teasing me. She did my legs, being careful around my knee. Then, she hit the jackpot and washed my towering phallus and balls. She was extra careful on my jewels. The warm washcloth felt exquisite on my shaft. She washed underneath my nuts, getting the space between my testicles and my asshole. She'd undone another button on her white dress, and was bending over, giving me a wonderful view of her braless breasts.

She had me roll over onto my stomach and she washed my back, my legs and my ass. She pushed my thighs apart and grabbed my dick, pulling it between my legs. She stroked it as I laid face down on the couch, enjoying her gentle touch while she scrubbed my back.

She retrieved another basin of clear water to rinse me. The warm water felt good.

I rolled back over so she could rinse my front. I laid there with my cock as hard as it ever gets.

"This must be painful." She said as she stroked my turgid cock.

I said, "Sometimes it gets so hard that it throbs."

"Poor boy." She said as she bent forward and took my head in her mouth.

I looked at the top of her ginger curls. Her pretty red hair was tied up. Her neck was thin and smooth. I slid her blouse open, so her tits could dangle freely. She looked up at me and continued to suck my whole cock.

She said, "I was disappointed when you didn't recognize me yesterday."

"I'll never forget you now."

"What's my name?"

I said, "Uh, I forget."

She pulled off my cock and started to put away her tits, until I said, "Debbie, Debbie Clark. You were a cheerleader. I used to watch you. You were the prettiest one. The bounciest too!"

Debbie was now satisfied, and said; "I hated that bitch Michelle, because she had you."

"Debbie," I said; "That was a long time ago. I was nineteen."

"and I was eighteen." She added.

"Honestly," I added; "Prettiest eighteen-year-old girl I've ever seen."

She said, "You're just saying that because I'm having your cock in my mouth."

I pulled her head up from my crotch. I said, "No. It's true. I remember you. I liked the way everything jiggled when you did those cheers."

She smiled at me in an adoring manner. That's when I undid a button on her dress. When she didn't object, I did another, then another. Finally, I undid the waistband. I put my hands on her dangling tits and rolled her hard little nipples in my fingers. I helped her remove her dress and admired her lovely body. Her breasts hung nicely and she had smooth, wonderful shoulders. I held her tits, enjoying the smooth skin and weight, massaging them lightly. They moved like putty in my hands, jiggling around.

She leaned up and kissed me. Her hand was on my cock. We kissed again, this time with passion, our mouths twisting together, my tongue searching for hers.

I slid a hand down to the front of her lacy thong and squeezed under her crotch. She paused to scoot up the sofa; straddling over my stomach; and my hand reached for her pussy. My fingers sneaked under her panties and found her ginger puss. I combed through her pubic hair for a few moments. Touching a woman like I was, is an amazing experience. The first time touching her pussy was special. Then, I found her slit. She was warm and wet. I slid a finger between her inner lips, stimulating her clitoris and pulling her into another passionate kiss. She was breathing heavily and twisting around in sexual excitement. Then, my middle finger entered her. My fingers probed her vagina, pressing against the slippery inner flesh, pushing against her, drawing out her reaction. She was still wearing her stretchy lace thong, but her legs were spread apart, giving me full access to her pussy. I had two fingers buried inside her. We continued like that for a while, kissing and fingering each other toward inevitable orgasms.

"Glen," she said; "I used to dream about you fucking me. I had just moved to your school, and didn't have many friends. Boys would ask me out, but I wouldn't give them anything. But damn, I sure would have fucked you."

"Wow!" I said, "I'll fuck you now."

"Sorry," She sighed; "but you're too late. I'm married and I don't cheat on my husband."

She showed me her wedding ring.

I had to ask, "Isn't this sort of cheating?"

She just said, "Eating ain't cheating."

I wasn't going to argue with her, but damn, I would've put my cock in her in a moment, regardless of my marriage vows. How many guys can stop when a woman has your cock in her hand and her tits in your face.

We began to moved faster, increasing our pleasure with her hand on my cock, sometimes rubbing it against her ass; and my fingers still in her vagina. Once or twice my knee twinged, but I was brave and fought through the pain.

"Let me see you naked." I asked.

She stood and pulled off her thong, then teased me while slowly removing her thigh-high white stockings and shoes. She had a pretty pussy, with a furry tuft, groomed a bit, but still a bit unruly. Her little slit was gaping a bit due to my finger action.

She climbed back on me, straddling my hips. She put her naked pussy against my rocket, rubbing her slit along my shaft. It was wonderful and soon she was coming. She was so wet and the pressure of my cock was driving her orgasm. She was beautiful with the look of pleasure on her face. My cock slid easily between her slippery lips. I wasn't inside her though.

Then, she did it. She used her hand to put my cock in her vagina. She sat still for a moment. She was warm and tight, her inner flesh pressing against the entire length of my cock. I focused on the extreme pleasure of being inside her.

She said, "I just had to see what it felt like to have you inside me."

"Does it feel as good as you imagined, Debbie?"

She said, "Oh yes! I used to dream about having your cock inside me."

I didn't move. It was like she was pulsing electricity through my rocket. Her muscles were massaging me. Her pussy was amazing. Her tits were swaying with her movements. She was beautiful.

Then she pulled off and resumed sliding along my cock again, faster and faster. She leaned her tits down on my chest and I kissed her as she reached her peak. She was squirming and panting and her mouth was trying to consume my tongue. Then I came too. My cum pulsed out onto my pelvis, and puddling into my navel. I watched her body spasm as she continued her orgasm. Her body was covered with a sheen of perspiration. We held each other as we calmed down, recovering.

She stood up and looked at me. "That was fantastic."

"It sure was. Thank you."

She stood and I admired her beautiful body. Then she finished the sponge bath while she was still naked. There was a wad of cum on my belly. She lewdly put some on her fingers and sucked them. I had worked up a sweat, so the much of the benefit of the sponge bath had been lost.

Debbie redressed my wound, then regretfully, she got dressed.

She said, "They'll ask for an evaluation of my nursing visit."

"What's the highest score?"

"Ten."

"I'll give you a hundred."

She laughed and said, "Don't be too specific with your comments."

I asked for her contact info but she declined. "I don't want to have the temptation to cheat with you. I have a good marriage that I don't want to screw up and you seem to have a nice wife." She continued, "I've fulfilled a dream. I don't need to do it again. It's always better the first time."

I said, "I understand but I'll not forget you again."

"Let me know if you go in the hospital again."

She kissed me softly and left. Wow!

Gloria's Exam.

A few hours later, my wife came home. I had fallen asleep and was till pants-less under a sheet, wearing just the pajama shirt. Fortunately, nurse Debbie had cleaned my dick and the cum on my belly.

My wife puttered around for a while and finally came to look at my wound. She lifted the sheet covering me and discovered that I was naked from below the waist.

'What happened to your shorts?"

"I took then off. They were too uncomfortable."

She saw the cut-up shorts on the floor. She held them up.

I couldn't lie, so I said, "The nurse gave me a sponge bath. She didn't want to hurt my knee, so, she cut them off."

Gloria was absorbing that revelation. "Did she wash your cock?"

I said, "Yes, of course." I tried to make it sound like no big deal.

She looked at the form that Debbie had signed and left. "It was the same nurse from the hospital."

"Sure. She does home care too."

"Did you fuck her?"

I looked insulted, "Honey. I can't even move here."

Then Gloria saw a ginger pubic hair, nestled on my hairy pelvis.

She knew my word-games and asked another way, "Did she fuck yo

Home Sex Education

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 28 Jun 2026 17:54:00 +0000

Home Sex Education

Stepbrother Introduces me to Handy Orgasms.

by tinman69s. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

My name is Debbie and I am now 22 years old and a senior at college and single, thank goodness! This is my last year here at college and I sure do hate to leave here. But that is another story!

First, I want to tell you about my initiation into womanhood, if you want to call it that.

My Mom and Dad divorced when I was about 17 years old. After a couple of years, my Mom re-married. We moved into my step-dad's house. My step-dad was a really nice guy and he had a good-looking son who lived with him. The only problem there was that he really didn't want anything to do with me (because "I was in the way" and 'a pain"). Anyway, my step-dad's house was a two-story one, with a basement. The basement had been finished and Gary had his bedroom and bathroom down there. That was fine with me because that gave me the whole upstairs to myself.

Gary, my step-brother, went to the local tech school and worked part-time to pay for his car. He did have a really cool car, a Camaro, jet black, mag wheels, T-tops, loud mufflers and a good stereo system in it. I really liked the car, but Gary wouldn't let me run around with him because I was "too young". Other than that, he and I got along really good.

About a year or so after we moved in there, I was having a problem with some of my homework, and Mom and "Dad" were out, so I went downstairs to see if Gary could help me with my math. As I walked thru the game room to Gary's bedroom, I could hear his music playing and I figured he was still up and maybe studying too. Well, being the young teen that I was, I just pushed the door open, without knocking, and almost fainted!!! Gary was sitting on his bed with a "girlie" magazine beside him and he was playing with his "Thing"!!!! I almost choked, and he heard me. He jumped up and tried to get his "thing" back in his shorts, but he was fumbling too much.

I guess I scared him and he yelled at me to "Get out"! But I couldn't move, I was just staring at his "thing".

I had heard other girls talking about what they looked like, but I had never seen one. Gary yelled again for me to get out but I just shook my head "no" still staring! I guess he realized suddenly that he might be in big trouble if I should say anything to my Mom or his Dad about what I caught him doing. I moved my focus to the magazine (he must have forgotten about it being there on the bed) and I walked over and picked it up. The girl in the magazine was really beautiful and naked and had two fingers in her privates!! I, of course, didn't understand this. I looked up at Gary, (who had finally gotten "it" back into his shorts;) and just pointed at the girl in the photo and where her hand was. I still had not said a word!

Gary took the magazine and closed it and said "Debbie, I'm sorry, Please don't tell on me. I'll be grounded for life! And Dad might take my car keys away from me. Please?"

After looking at the picture and seeing his thing hanging out, I was feeling kinda funny. A feeling I had not had before. But I gathered my senses and got brave and said to him "Gary, I've heard the girls talking, especially in the locker room, about boy's private parts, but I've never seen one up close. And I want to see yours! So if you will sit down and let me look at it good, I won't tell anyone what happened, I promise."

Gary looked at me for a moment and said "Promise-Hope to die?"

I said "Yes Gary, Hope to die."

Gary sat down on the bed and pulled it back out of his shorts, but now it wasn't stiff like it was when he was playing with it.

I asked him, "What happened to it, why is it not stiff anymore?"

He said "Debbie, Can I call you Sis? I've always wanted a little sister."

I agreed he could. "Now tell me about your thing, what happened to it?" I said.

Gary tried as best he could to explain it to me in really nice terms, about how it gets excited and when it gets excited, it gets stiff and hard and grows a little bit.

So I said "Show me how it does it."

Gary started pulling the skin back and forth on it. And shortly it started getting stiffer! I liked that! It was interesting!

So I said, "Gary, can I see if I can get it more excited?" He agreed and I took it in my hand and started pumping on it back and forth. And it got very hard and stiff. "Um I did this!! I got it excited!" I thought.

Gary laid back on the bed and said "Oh Sis, that feels so good!!"

He started moaning, and I stopped immediately and said "Gary, am I doing something to hurt you?"

Gary said, "Oh Sis, you are doing fine. Sit down and wrap your hand around it and jerk it up and down faster." It was a very curious thing because shortly he was moving his butt up and down and moaning real loud. I slowed down and he said "No Sis, please, don't stop, it feels so very good, just keep jerking it for me."

So I did! I was jerking the skin up and down hard and fast like he wanted.

Then he reached over beside him on the bed and handed me a washcloth and said "Cover the top and your hand, honey."

He had called me "honey", he had never done that before and I liked that. But I couldn't see what I was doing so I lifted the cloth and just as I did it squirted some kind of goo all up in the air and on me and on the bed. Gary by then had wrapped his hand around mine and was jerking it up and down fast and moaning really loud! I didn't count how many times it squirted that stuff out but it was a lot! And what a mess!! Then Gary's hand fell to his side and he just laid there.

I took the cloth and wiped my hand and my clothes and then handed it to Gary and said "Gary, that wasn't nice, did you piss on me on purpose?"

Gary raised up and hugged me (he had never done that either) and said "Thanks little sis, you did great and no, that wasn't piss, it was CUM. It is what happens when you have an orgasm. And an orgasm is what happens at the end of sex. Or in this case, jacking off."

I said "Oh yea, I've heard that term used-the girls say they jack off their boyfriends. But I didn't know what that was, but I have learned by doing it to you!"

"Yea Sis, you learn fast too, you did really good for me. Now promise me again that no-one will ever hear about this." He said.

I said "OK big brother, but on one condition.." And I saw it on his face-he was afraid I would want to run around with him in his car. But then I said "I want you to teach me more about sex. I want to learn and I want you to teach me."

He looked like I had kicked him or something.

I said "Is it a deal or not?"

He smiled and hugged me again and said "Sis, if that is what you really want, we'll do it. But you can't use this on your boyfriend yet. You are still too young to be having sex."

I said ok and he handed me his magazine and said "Read through this and then tell me if you have any questions on what you see and learn, OK? And keep it hidden well!"

I agreed and got up and started back upstairs and then I remembered why I had come downstairs in the first place. So I told him and he helped me and I thanked him and went back upstairs.

When I was back in my room, in bed, and getting ready to go to sleep, I kept thinking about the girl in the magazine and what she was doing to herself and what I had just done with Gary. So I thought I would try what she was doing and see what the big deal was. So I tried to stick two fingers inside my pussy, but it hurt! So I decided to wet them in my mouth and try it again. It was a little easier and I moved them a little, and pretty quickly, it got much easier to move them. I was getting wet down there and so I pushed them in further and worked them around a little and in and out and it started feeling really good!! And then, quite by accident, my thumb hit my clitoris and then I knew why the girl was doing it! This was an awesome feeling, and I didn't want to stop doing it-it felt too good! I kept doing it and the more I did it the better it felt and soon I was wiggling my butt all over the place and then I thought I was going to explode!! I could not stop now if I wanted to and then I wanted to scream and wanted to put my whole hand inside me. I jerked my pillow around and bit on it to muffle my screams, and then some kind of fluid came rushing out!! "Just like it did from Gary", I thought. But the bad part was it only lasted for maybe a half a minute and then it was over. But it was the best feeling I had ever had!. And now I was tired, so I just left my hand in my panties and I just like "died" asleep. I felt so good after that orgasm!

About three weeks had gone by and I had studied Gary's magazine from cover to cover. Some of that stuff was pretty weird to me! Then one night as I was getting into bed I felt something under my pillow. Gary had slid another magazine under it for me. Needless to say, I stayed up late looking through it. And again went to sleep with my fingers inside my hot, wet pussy. Man this fingering thing sure made me feel good all over when I would cum. Then on that Saturday night when Gary got home from work, I was waiting for him. Mom and Dad were out with friends again. I was watching TV in the game room (which is right next to Gary's bedroom) when he came in. I wanted to learn some more! I was only wearing my housecoat and panties when he walked in.

He saw my mostly naked body and said " Hum Sis, looking for another lesson?"

I said "Sure am brother dear."

He said to give him a minute to shower and we would do it. Then he went off to the shower. When he returned, he was wearing only boxers and his housecoat and I could see that his "thing" was already getting ready to play. He came over and sat down on the couch with me and I just reached over and pulled his dick out of his shorts and started to play with it. When I did he opened my housecoat and took both my breasts in his hands and started massaging them. It felt pretty good when I did it, but it sure felt great when he did it for me.

I was pumping on his dick pretty good and then he reached down and cupped my pussy with his hand and asked if I liked the feel of that, I just spread my legs wider in reply. He didn't hesitate, his hand was inside my panties and one finger was in my pussy. Damn that felt so good!! I was already wet in anticipation of this fun so he had no trouble burying his finger all the way inside me. Then he pulled it out and stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean. I took this moment to jerk my panties off to give him better access. I loved the feel of his finger in me. And of course I wanted it as long as he would do it.

He smiled and said "Little sis, you taste pretty damned good honey!"

Then he put two fingers into my pussy! Oh shit it felt so good! I was having trouble concentrating on his dick! He had two fingers in my pussy and was pinching my tittie with the other hand and pulling and pinching the nipple. He had me wanting to scream all the time! Then he started humping and jerking and I knew he was getting ready to shoot on me again. I said "want me to grab a washcloth for you?"

He said "No, catch it in your hand, I want to try something." So when it shot off, I caught all I could in my hand. But I was having trouble sitting still, I was about to cum too.

I cried out "Oh god Gary, It's here, Oh shit finger it fast , It feels so good make me cum honey, Please, I love you . I love this feeling!! Oh god it's good!!" And I was like convulsing on his fingers!

Finally I finished and Gary pulled his fingers out of me and said, "Watch this!" His fingers were dripping with my juices and he licked it all from them. So in return, I started licking his cum out of my hand for him. He smiled and I knew he liked that idea. When he first licked his one finger, I thought it was a little gross, but quickly forgot about that. Now I understood that it really did taste good and it was somehow satisfying to see him lick up my juices! He said again how good I tasted and asked about his.

I said "It is a strange taste but I could get used to it real quick!" I wiped some more off his dick and sucked that off my finger.

"Ok, lesson one, we just made each other have an "orgasm", or "cum" for short. You "jerked me off" or "jacked me off", either way you want to say it. And I just fingered you off, also sometimes called fingering you! Did you really like what I just did to you? Did it really feel great?" he asked.

"Oh yes Gary it was fantastic, it was just awesome! I never felt so good! I did it to myself the other night but when you did it, it was much, much better! Did I do ok for you too?" I asked.

"Oh yes honey, you are getting really good at that. Listen Sis, have you ever heard of the term 'incest'?"

I said "Yes, but that is families isn't it, like blood relatives?"

Gary replied that it was "but lots of people would look at us as being relatives now, although we are not blood relatives, understand?"

"Yes," I said, "but what has this got to do with us having fun?" I asked.

"Well, Sis, I just want you to understand that lots of people would really frown on what we are doing. So what I want us to do is swear that NO ONE will ever know about this, not your best friend or anyone, understand?"

"Yes I do and I swear that no one will ever know about us but us, Gary"

"You swear that? Hope to die?" Gary asked.

I said "Yes , I swear, hope to die, I will never ever tell anyone what we are doing. Just don't stop teaching me, Please? I want to learn from you, cause I trust you to do me right."

"Ok " he said. "Good enough." We were still sitting on the couch and Gary said "Sis, baby, you want another one?"

I said "another what?" Just hoping he was thinking the same thing that I was thinking.

He said, "Another orgasm, silly!"

"Oh yes please, that one a few minutes ago was so incredible! Oh yes, please make me have another one, please!"

He said "Ok honey, but this one is just for you. Forget about me, you just enjoy this one by yourself, OK?"

I said "Sure Gary, if that's what you want."

He said, "OK get up on your hands and knees and let me show you something else." I got up like he said and he pushed my housecoat up over my back and rubbed his fingers on my pussy and said "Good little Sis, you're still wet. And I have to tell you that you have a beautiful little pussy and ass, honey."

He slowly shoved two fingers all the way in me as deep as they would go. I really let out a groan because it felt so very good! And then he started working them in and out of me pretty fast and hard, then he used his other hand to rub my clit and shit he was driving me crazy!! He would mash on it and then rub it and then pinch it and each time he did something, it was electrifying to my body! I just wanted to scream at him to never, ever, ever, stop doing that!! I was humping back on his hand like I don't know what, and I couldn't help it, I just wanted more!

I said "Gary , more honey please I love it, more!" And then he put three fingers in me and I almost cum just from that! Oh it felt good to be full of fingers! "Oh Gary, I'm getting close, please make me cum, fast and hard Please".

But Gary pulled his fingers out of me and I looked back to see what was going on. "It's ok honey, I just wanted a taste" and he shoved two fingers back in my pussy and "Ouch!", one in my asshole!!

He said "Easy honey, It'll feel good in just a second" as he continued to work them in and out.

He was right, the pain was gone and Oh god what a fantastic feeling it was! I was going to cum with two fingers in my pussy and one in my ass!! I convulsed hard and started shaking all over and screaming and jerking all over! Damn this was the best yet and it lasted longer too. And I could feel my juices running down my legs. And then I just collapsed on the couch, exhausted completely and fully satisfied!

I could barely breathe, but I said, "Gary, that was the most fantastic orgasm! I know I screamed too loud but it was that good! It was awesome, beyond description!!"

I raised up and grabbed him around the neck and slammed my lips to his and forced my tongue into his mouth. I know I love him, He has made me so happy!

We kissed for a long time and finally we broke it and Gary said "Ok sis, bed time" and smacked me on the ass.

"Ok" I said, "But that little smack felt good." and smiled at him as I gathered up my panties and headed upstairs. I sure won't have any trouble falling asleep tonight! I was exhausted!

Lesson 2: Oral Exam

A few weeks passed and I got another magazine under my pillow with a note to check out pages 54 thru 57, then come to see him. I knew it had to be something really good. That was all about how to suck cocks and deep-throat cocks.

"YES," I thought, "he must want me to do this to him and that's why he pointed it out to me." So I stayed up late again and studied that part. Later I would study the rest of the magazine. So that weekend, Mom and Dad were out shopping and Gary was working early and I knew he would be home early so I showered and got myself ready to satisfy him like he had done for me the last time. Tonight I would really give him a good blowjob and I would deepthroat him because I had been practicing by pushing bananas back in my throat to make me used to it without gagging. I could now push a banana as far into my throat as I could reach and still pull it back out. So I was ready for him.

When he came in, I stood up and opened my housecoat and there was just me, no panties or bra, just me. He came over to me and kissed me and I just dropped to my knees and opened his pants and pulled his cock out and I just shoved my face down on it. He groaned and then said "Oh shit sis, you're so good, but don't you want to wait til I've showered?"

I said "No I want to taste you as you are," and went back to sucking, Then I slowly eased my face down on it till I had the whole thing in my throat. He was groaning so much!

He pulled back and I said "What's wrong honey, am I doing it wrong?' "No , no hon, I just can't stand up if you deepthroat me, my knees won't hold me up!" He went over and sat down on the couch and I was right there and took him again, all the way in and he was making all kinds of moaning noise and I knew he was really loving this, so I took my time about it and I would go down all the way and stay there till I needed to breathe before I came up and I could tell it was driving him wild!! Then he started humping and jerking and put both hands on the back of my head and pulled me to him. I knew he was going to shoot into my throat! I forced my head back far enough to catch my breath and went down all the way and sucked hard and played with the head with my tongue and he blasted my throat full of hot cum. I reached under my chin and caressed his balls and made it last longer for him. When he was finished cumming and I pulled back off his cock, he was just lying there on the couch like he was dead! I think that took everything out of him, so I had done a really good job for him.

Finally he grinned and opened his eyes just enough to see me and said "Sis, I've had a few blowjobs before by girls older than you and I'm telling you that I have never had one as good as you just gave me. It was absolutely fantastic!!"

"I learned it from the magazine you left for me" I said.

"Well, you sure did good honey" he said. Then he got up and went to the shower. I just sat back on the couch and waited for him to come back out.

When he came back out, he said, "OK sis, now it's your turn again. Come in here and lie down on my bed and let me show you another thing or two."

I did as he said and laid down on the bed on my back and spread my legs wide to give him all the access he wanted. He stood at the foot of the bed a minute and said "Sis, just lie there a minute, I want to do something else first," and went into his bathroom. I wondered what he was thinking. When he came back out, he had his razor and shaving cream.

I said "Gary, what are you going to do?"

He said "I am going to shave your beautiful little pussy as clean as a baby's butt. Then I'm going to lick it raw!"

"Oh yes Gary, anything you say, I just want to be the best at satisfying you!" And he proceeded to shave me clean. It looked really good too. I hadn't thought about that, but it will be shaved from now on!

Then he got down and started licking and sucking on my pussy lips and my clit and toying with my ass hole and it didn't take long to get me really hot again and make me start climbing the orgasm mountain. Gary was really good

Future Farmer's Wife.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sat, 27 Jun 2026 17:43:00 +0000

Future Farmer's Wife.

Summer loving, working on the farm.

Based on a post by Farmer jill. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

When I was a young girl, every summer was an adventure. The farms around Stearns County, where I lived; would need extra help to cut, bail; and store up the hay for the long snowy winter. Everyone did small square bales back then, and that meant manual labor. The thing was that although the job paid great, it was not a regular job. The hours were always subject to change, with the weather, break downs, or hay production. You had little notice when you were needed, and then it was only for a few days. Farm kids also had to work on our own family farms; so you had to work it around that. Yet since every farmer needed the extra help it was like all the kids were a labor pool to be exploited.

I liked working the hay harvests, because it allowed me to have spending money. Sure I was "paid" working for my dad but farming is a long term paying type of job. I didn't get actually paid for my labor but in the winter I would get money to go to the movies and the like.

It was the summer of 81. I just turned 18 and the hay season started. The first job I heard about was at the Wilson Dairy Farm. I had worked for the Wilson's before. I showed up at 7am, on the appointed day, and there were four other people. The Wilson's only really need four laborers but you never knew what kind of quality you would get so the first day most farmers would have extras. Then at lunch they would get rid of the lazy, slow or stupid.

In addition to myself, there were the Hanson brothers, Bill and Ted. I had worked with them before. They worked hard and usually worked the conveyor. In case you don't know; the conveyor is what gets the bales from the wagon up into the hay loft. It was a tricky job. You couldn't overload it, because it would jam. You also couldn't go to fast because the people unloading would get overwhelmed.

There was also a guy I didn't know. He must have been new in our area. I was pretty sure he wouldn't make the cut. His hands had no calluses on them, dead give away. The last person in the group was none other than Cooper Banks, my high school crush. We were both the youngest in our families, and the only kids still living at home. We were both in the high school FFA club, Future Farmers of America, But he quit the club when he became a starter on the wrestling team.

He was a year older than me and had just graduated. I'm sure that he didn't even know I existed before today. He was pretty popular at school and never lacked for female attention. Cooper was born on a farm on a different bus route from me, so I never had a chance to be noticed by him. Yet here he was, in the flesh.

The Hay Harvest Operation.

The way haying worked most times is; you went out with a wagon and while the farmer drove, you loaded the wagon. One person on the wagon, and a couple passing bales up. Other times the bales were formed, tied, and delivered to the wagon and then you stacked them on the wagon. In this case it was both types. Mr. Wilson was baling onto one wagon while the new guy stacked. Meanwhile us four took turns driving and loading/stacking another wagon.

Once we had some wagons loaded, people would then work on loading the hay into the barn, hayloft, through an upper door under the gable; while others collected more hay. The farmers kept big coolers of cold water on hand, to hydrate the workers, and we often poured water over our sweaty bodies, to get relief from the humid air. Halfway through the day, our clothes were soaked.

At lunch time, as I suspected, the new guy was let go. Blisters developed on his hands, because he didn't bring work gloves; so he was done. This left Bill loading the conveyor, and Cooper and I stacking the hay now in the barn's upper loft. Ted continued stacking bales on the wagon that Mr. Wilson was towing behind his bailor. It's hard work, but you are so busy, that it goes fast.

Soon enough, the day was over and Mr. Wilson paid us. Then he asked us to be back tomorrow. That's another good thing, cash at the end of the day. We all said we would be back tomorrow, and went to leave.

I ended up walking beside Cooper, and I was desperate to think of something to say to him. He was wearing a Van Halen concert t-shirt, so I asked him about it,

"Cooper, that's a nice shirt. Did you like the concert?"

"Oh yeah, those guys were great, I'd go see them again. You have a pretty nice shirt on, too."

Now I was wearing the usual kind of t-shirt for this work. Mine was Long sleeves to protect my arms and it was well-worn. It was sorta too small for me, because it was pretty tight across the chest. I was pretty proud of my boobs that had kept developing over the past year. My tits were high on my chest, and especially firm, and jiggled a lot. I'm sure Cooper liked what was inside my shirt.

Last winter, my past boyfriend said my tits were the perfect size, just more than a hand full. This is before the days of sports bras, so I had on a plain white cotton bra that I am sure was transparent at this point, from all the sweat. Did I mention that haying was hot sweaty work? It is. My shirt had a John Deere green tractor on it, and said, "Born to Farm."

I usually have to wear a large, if I want room for my tits. But a medium was all I had, that morning when I went to work. Cooper would probably fit the shirt just fine.

I'm not sure what made me do it, but I blurted out before thinking, "If you like it, Cooper; I would swap it for yours."

Cooper looked at me to see if I was serious, "Sure, I will wash it and bring it for you tomorrow."

The look on his face was priceless when I replied, "We can swap now."

And with that, I pulled my shirt over my head. The look on Cooper's face was priceless. First there was shock, and then, as he took in my transparent wet cotton bra and prominent nipples, his looked turned to lust. Ted and Bill noticed as they were opening their F150 truck doors. Their tongues were hanging out of their open mouths.

Not to be outdone, Cooper quickly peeled off his t-shirt. We were almost at his El Camino, and my bike at this point. As I put on his shirt, I could smell the distinct combination of Cooper, hay, and sweat.

At this point Bill and Ted lost interest and had left.

The manly smell of the shirt must have been really intoxicating, because it made me really bold, "Hey Cooper; maybe we could trade something else."

He was holding my shirt in his hand, and his bare rippled chest was making it hard for me to breathe.

"Sure Jill, what else did you have in mind?"

"If you give me and my bike a lift home, we could trade washing one another's back, in the shower."

Once again, the look on his face was priceless. It went from shock to desire. I noticed a bulge form in his pants. He noticed that I noticed.

"Sure Jill, let's go."

He put my bike in the back of the stylish truck. It was only 2 miles on the county road, to my parents' farm, and his stereo was instantly playing the latest Van Halen album, so we didn't talk, besides me giving him directions. I was really nervous, because I had never done anything like this before. I knew my mom was in town at her part-time job. My dad was setting fence posts til sundown on the back end of the farm.

Now this is not to say I was an innocent virgin. I had found my three older brother's stash of porn magazines when I was fourteen. I had also heard and seen them in action, when they thought they were alone with girls.

By 18, I figured I had a pretty good working knowledge of the 'birds and the bees.' My mom also knew what was going to happen as I matured, so I was on the pill. Since my hips and tits had filled out, I'd had a few boyfriends. And yes; I fucked two of them. I'm sure Cooper was more experienced, but let's just say, I knew what I was getting into.

When we arrived, I led him into our split-level new house, and up to my bathroom. I was so nervous at this point, I didn't know what to do next.

Cooper took over, he knew what to do. He kissed me. He was a good kisser and soon we were tongue-wrestling, while Cooper started to feel my tits. His lips felt great and his hands on my tits even better. I helped him get my clothes off and he undid my bra. Then he said something that made my pussy drool.

"Jill Johnson, I'm going to lick the sweat off your luscious tits." He picked me up and sat me on the counter, and went to licking.

I leaned back into the big mirror and ran my fingers through his wavy golden hair. I'm not sure why I liked that so much, but I did.

He began to kiss and lick my tits. Cooper was very systematic, and I'm sure he got every drop of sweat! He also had me really worked up. I didn't know if I could orgasm from someone just playing with my tits, but I seemed close. When he nipped one of my nipples with his teeth, I moaned loudly. He continued to pleasure my tits with his mouth while his hands worked on opening my pants. He pulled me down from the counter and slipped my sweaty jeans down. My panties went with them and his fingers found my soaking wet center.

It felt so good, and I was so caught up in the moment. I didn't realize I was naked and he was still dressed. I had to get to his cock!

As he worked his magic fingers in my vagina, and on my clit; I got his shirt off. He was circling my engorged clit as I got his pants off. My hand reached into his sweaty underwear and felt his cock. As I started to stroke it, I noticed it wasn't very big. I didn't have that much experience, but when I pulled it out of his underwear I noticed it was the smallest boner I had ever seen. It wasn't tiny or anything like that. but the other two cocks that fucked me, were bigger.

It didn't take me very long, stroking it, maybe a minute; before he was shooting cum all over my leg. It didn't surprise me, that he had a hair trigger, so did the other guys I had been with. I think it's a young man's issue to become aware of, and make adjustments for.

I didn't have much time to dwell on it, however; as he turned me facing the other way, and wrapped both his arms around me. We stood before the big mirror, one of his hands was on my cunt, and the other on my nipples, while he kissed my neck and let his semi flaccid cock dangle between my asscheeks. With my horny body wrapped in his arms from behind we watched ourselves while we felt each other. It was so erotic! He redoubled his efforts on my clit and I climaxed on his hand. I gushed a bit, and it ran down my naked legs.

I turned on the shower as we took off our socks, and got in the big shower. Cooper answered the question in my head about his recovery time, before I could even reach the soap. His cock was hard again, pressing against me. I turned to observe his slender phallus with excitement. My next question was about how long he would last this time, and boy did he have the right answer! Cooper reached both his hands around my ass cheeks and picked me up

My legs naturally came up and locked behind him as his upward-pointing cock smoothly entered my hot hungry cunt. He might not have been that big, but he knew all the right angles, as he plowed me against the wall. It seemed to go on gloriously, forever; until my eyes rolled back in my head and my pussy exploded. Cooper followed me soon; going over the top and blasted three shots of cum, high up in my hungry cunt.

My arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Both of us breathing heavy, for a while. Then he slowly released and lowered me. We kissed with intense passion and aggressive tongues. Then we stared into each other's eyes. Then we giggled and he asked, "Are we supposed to be working out a trade?"

"Oh, that!" I said, and I grabbed a big sponge and soaped it up. We then actually began to wash one another. This led to more stroking, rubbing, fondling, kissing, sucking and yup; we ran out of hot water.

We started laughing at the situation as we got out and dried off. I lent Cooper a clean shirt and basketball shorts from my older brother's closet; so he didn't have to put his sweaty work clothes back on. He would bring them back tomorrow, when he picked me up to go back to Wilson's Dairy.

The next morning I was ready at 6:45, and jumped in Cooper's truck as soon as he stopped in our driveway. We each leaned over and kissed, like we had done this a thousand times.

Soon enough we were back at the hay harvest, and the day evaporated. My mom was going to be home so after work I had Cooper drive me down a township road, to a spot nearby, that I knew would afford us some privacy. When we were secluded in the treeline, I told him to stop and he grinned. Soon we were making out. Cooper came around to my door and opened it. Then he slid my legs out the door and slipped off my sweaty jeans and panties. We didn't have much time, so he raised my naked legs over his shoulders and dropped his pants and briefs. Then he leaned over my submissive body and began pumping me faster than a ackrabbit. It felt so good going in, but in only a minute or two, I felt him ejaculate. I was disappointed but only for a few seconds. Cooper never pulled out. He just took a few breaths and kept going. His cock stayed hard!

Once again, he worked my pussy with his cock, making sure I came before he did. His hands went up my shirt and he began pinching both nipples. That got me off very effectively.

We put our pants back on and left. Cooper then dropped me off with a promise to see me tomorrow. It would be our last day at Wilson's Dairy, and I didn't want to even think about what would happen after that. I was hoping for a lot of things, but I didn't want to screw it up; so I said nothing.

The next day, Cooper picked me up and gave me a kiss. It was particularly hot that late June day, and we were a really hot sweaty mess by lunch. After lunch Mr. Wilson told us that once he dropped off the last wagon, he had to go; but his wife would pay us once we finished putting the hay away. The day ended with Bill and Ted working the conveyor and Cooper and I stacking the hay in the loft. When the last bale came off the conveyor they turned off the motor and called out they were heading out.

We heard Mrs. Wilson tanking them, then their loud pickup rumbled out to the county road.

There was sweat pouring off of us, and we were covered in dust and hay bits. We stacked the last bales, and then I looked at Cooper,

"I must be quite a sight, today."

"You look great to me!" Then he added with a grin; "Ever fucked in the loft?" I remembered my voyeur delights, watching my brothers fuck the Carlson sisters, in our own hayloft, a couple summers ago. It brought a big grin to my face.

I didn't even get to answer before his lips met mine. It was a gross flavor of dust and hay, so we took a drink before resuming making out.

Now Cooper had a big water jug that he would fill about 1/3 and then put in the freezer overnight. It would keep his water nice a cool all day and he could even refill it at lunch with ice left. After we drank, Cooper tore my clothes off and then grabbed what was left of the ice from his jug. It was a piece about the size of a small fist. As he kissed me he began circling my nipples with it.

It was deliciously exciting as the cold sent two kinds of shivers through me body. One shiver was due to temperature and the other due to the sexual stimulation. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he slipped it down my stomach, slowly over my clit and into my pussy. I lost my mind!

His mouth engulfed my left tit and his left hand caressed my right tit. I came! Damn that Cooper has a way of arousing my horny tits!

He then dropped his pants and underwear, bent me over an alfalfa bail, and slammed into me. My mind was in overload, I didn't think I could handle any more stimulation, but Cooper had other ideas. He slipped the last bit of ice into my ass! He told me later I squealed a moan. I didn't know because I was overcome with the most intense orgasm of my young life. Cooper didn't last much longer on the first one, like usual; but I didn't care because when he came, I did again!

I put my clothes back on and Cooper pulled up his pants. We then climbed down the ladder, to the lower barn. We exited the barn and went to go see Mrs. Wilson about our pay. She had a smirk on her face when she greeted us at the kitchen door,

"I thought you forgot about pay, and left."

Cooper did some quick thinking,

"A stack was leaning and we restacked it more securely. We just were making sure everything was good before we left. We ah... didn't want to leave a mess and leave a bad impression."

Mrs. Wilson was clearly not buying what Cooper was selling. That's when I noticed that my bra was missing, and my nipples were hard. There was laughter in her eyes as she gave us our pay.

Fortunately, we'd left the cooler in the loft, so I ran to get it, and find my wayward bra.

We climbed into Cooper's truck for the short ride to my house, and I thought I better say something. I tried not to sound needy, desperate or unsophisticated,

"Ah Cooper I was wondering about the rest of the summer?"

Cooper gave me a wide grin,

"Look, Jill; you and I can have a great summer of fun together if that's what you're asking."

"That would be great, Cooper."

"But, let's face the facts. You are going to stick around here and be a farmer. Me, I'm going to college in the fall, and I'm not coming back to farm. Farming is nice but I want something different. But, like I said; if you want a summer of fun together with me, then how about you and I go on a date, this coming Friday?"

My crush was offering me the summer. Even though he made it very clear to me what kind of relationship he wanted.

I knew I could get him to love me by the end of August. Regardless, I was so happy he wanted to take me on a date, and not just fuck me,

"That would be great, Cooper! A summer of fun, or is it going to be a summer of loving?"

"Either way, it's going to be great, Jill. There's a big festival in Cold Spring.

I told him to stop on the side of the road. I slid over the bench seat at this point, and gave him a kiss. Then I fished his cock out of his pants. Yes, it was covered in sweat, hay and me! But, I didn't care.

I slowly took all of it in my mouth. It didn't even reach my throat, at first. no complaints from me. I continued to lick and suck his cock, as it expanded inward. Pressing the back of my throat. I tilted my head and let his extra expansion slide a bit further, til my nose was pressed against his furry pelvis. My only other attempt at blowing a guy, was a complete failure.

"Oh, Gawd!" He screamed. "Yes, baby!"

My tongue stroked his cock as though I was trying to swallow him whole. Then he shot his blast deep into my throat. I pulled back just in time to get a second blast in my mouth, followed by a third small pulse. My lips firmly gripped his shaft as my mouth pulled at his cock, stretching it away from his hairy mound.

My tongue rubbed his tip, and he screamed; "Too much! Too sensitive!"

I released his crown and smiled as I looked up into his happy eyes. As I rose up, my open smile allowed his cum to start drooling out the side of my mouth.

I swallowed dramatically, then wiped the drool with my long extended tongue, and swallowed again.

Cooper's cock was perfect for learning to deepthroat, and I loved being able to do that successfully, for the first time. I felt powerful and seductive. I knew I could make this man very, very happy.

He had a huge smile on his face as dropped me off. Mom was home, so no inviting him in, but I would see him in 2 days.

We had a great summer of fun and loving. We had sex everywhere; his house, my house, his truck, in the pond, in the meadow, you get the idea. We even had sex on the job, in two more haylofts! It was two horny teenagers doing what horny teenagers do best.

At the end of the summer, I believed I loved Cooper and he loved me. Cooper very gently reminded me of what it really was. Lust. On what was to be our last date ever Cooper gave me a gift.

"Jill, this was an amazing summer I will never forget. I got you this little gift to remind you of our summer of fun."

I un

Summer Camp Staffing Perks.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Fri, 26 Jun 2026 17:38:00 +0000

Summer Camp Staffing Perks.

Come to summer camp, it can change your life!

Based on a post by Paul Stevens. Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Come to summer camp, it can change your life!

Walking in the moonlight one night Evan Walker reflected on just how not good this summer had gone for him thus far. He was beginning to regret leaving the familiar Boy Scout camp he had worked at for the past 3 years. Evan is just a few months from his 19^th birthday, but strict school district rules kept him from enrolling in kindergarten because he wasn't 5 years old on August 31^st.

Not that this camp did not have its advantages, more pay and working at a co-ed camp instead of the all boy camp he had been at the past few summers, were good reasons to switch. This camp is formatted into 12-day sessions, The scout camp was only 6 days; so kids had time to enjoy 'breakout' trips in wilderness camping, canoeing, or trophy-fishing for Lake Trout & Muskie.

Camp Drake is a venture of the state's largest hunting club. The camp becomes a hunting retreat in the fall, and winter months. Member families have 28 days of exclusive enrollment beginning February 1^st, for sending their kids to this summer camp, Non-members snatch up remaining slots by May 1^st.

Also motivating the switch was the fact that the new position was a far better opportunity with much better facilities than his old camp. Still, he was just wondering if it was enough. This camp is about an hour northwest from his family home in Duluth. He plans to pursue a forestry degree at the local state university.

From the moment he had arrived, there had been trouble, namely the muscle bound trio that ran the aquatics and sports areas of the camp. To be truthful, Evan did not look the type of an outdoor expert, most people expected him to be tall, rippling with muscles, and have broad shoulders... all things that described his tormentors. Evan had the tall part, and some muscle, but clearly fell well short of expectations. Of course Evan knew that his area of expertise had little to do with how strong you are as much as what you knew. The strongest man in the world wouldn't last more than a few days in the wilderness, without the proper knowledge and supplies.

Still Evan had managed to make a few friends on staff, and once the season had begun, things had gone relatively well; but overall it had been a disaster. As on the first day he had made a fool of himself right in front of the camp's version of Helen of Troy, Dana Reese. More than that though, he just seemed to get a vibe she utterly disliked him for some reason. Whatever the reason she had taken to calling him 'freak' after that first day, and unfortunately the name stuck, at least with the popular crowd. Dana is from Minnetonka, An uppity suburb of Minneapolis.

Worse his big 4-day trip, the jewel of his program, looked to be an absolute flop. Few boys were interested and due to the fact that he had no female staff, no girls were allowed. A fact which Evan knew was cutting into his attendance. He knew several fence sitters were interested, but they were all boys whose hormones would not allow them to be away from the girls for too long, especially not a week.

Because of this, Evan had pleaded with Fred the Camp Director for a female staffer to go with so he could bring girls and in turn get the extra boys, but it was a voluntary. As much as Fred wanted the new area to succeed, and as it had been his idea in the first place he did, he could not force one of the over-18 girls to go with. So Evan was stuck seemingly doomed for failure. Camp rules require a female staffer to be present for any activity that girls have access to. It was a mandate from the board of directors, on the recommendation of the liability committee.

He had been traveling along some of the moonlit forest paths when he heard rustling up ahead. Remembering that night walks were against the rules, even for staff Evan crouched down and held still, waiting for signs of who or what had made the noise.

He had been sitting there for a second before the mystery figure came into view. Whoever it was was slowly and carefully making their way back to the path often stopping to look at something before continuing on. It was only after watching the person that Evan realized what they were up to, they were examining various trees and plants and he could swear they were recording each find. Evan smiled, so it seemed the camp had a moonlight naturalist.

Evan wondered who, but the darkness of the trees and the fact that they spent much of the time crouch kept him from telling for sure. Feeling curious, Evan stayed awaiting the moment when the mystery naturalist entered the moonlit path. He was sure to see who it was, then.

He didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later the figure entered the path and Evan had no need to see her face, that silhouette could not be mistaken. Long hair he knew to be light brown that hung over her shoulders. Continuing down he saw the swell of her large set of breasts before her form flattened at her stomach. The slight swell of her amazing ass was just below and led into the long legs, legs that supported the 5'9 form of Dana Reese.

Evan was shocked but recovered in time to notice that she was headed his way. Quickly, he headed back the way he came hoping she was so lost in her note taking, for seeing her on the path he realized she was carrying a pen and a pad of paper with her.

By some measure of luck Evan made it back with his mind racing. What was a lifeguard who was the hottest, girliest, and seemingly the sluttiest girl in the camp doing, taking a nature hike in the moonlight? This did not fit in with her reputation at all. If someone had told him Dana Reese would be a nature lover, he would had called them crazy. Yet there it was, he had seen it with his own eyes. Before Evan fell asleep, he made a point to walk the next time the moon was bright to see if he had company.

A few nights later a nearly full moon filled the night sky. Evan admired it before setting out from his cabin. This time he left as soon as he felt the coast was clear. Luckily his cabin had gotten to sleep early that night. He crept out of the boy section of cabins and waited in the trees near the girls' cabins hoping he would spot Dana leaving. It seemed fate smiled upon him again as a few minutes later, her unmistakable figure strode by. Evan watched where she went and waited a few minutes and after checking to see if it was clear, followed her.

Admittedly he felt a little weird following Dana like he was stalking her, but he had to know what she was up to, tonight. This time she took no notes but simply walked to a pretty clearing and sat on a rock gazing at the moon seemingly at peace.

As Evan entered the clearing behind her, he watched her silently as she took deep breaths of the air almost lovingly. He was not sure what drew him closer when he knew he should turn around. However some mystic force brought him closer to the girl sitting on the rock. Despite his feelings though it was his next act he would never be able to explain in a million years.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" He asked, quietly standing only a few feet behind the oblivious Dana. The brunette jumped and nearly fell off the fortunately flat rock she was sitting on.

"Freak! What are you..." she shouted in anger before remembering the situation and looking at him said, "Sorry, I mean you scared me, what are you doing out here?"

Evan ignored the name some of the other 'popular' staffers had for him.

"The same as you, it seems; enjoying a lovely moonlit night." Evan said, finding the cheesy words somewhere. To his surprise she just nodded and looked back at the moon.

Then she surprised him by saying, "Yes, it's a shame so many of our co-workers don't realize the beauty of a night like this. All of them content to bathe in fluorescent light and sit in the AC. Nights like this make me feel alive, you know?" Evan was not sure why she said it, but he was glad. It seemed there was much more to the beautiful lifeguard than a gorgeous body and a slutty reputation. Evan just nodded and stood admiring the night with her for a while.

Sometime later Dana seemed to have had her fill and rose from the rock.

"Well you can stay if you like, but I'm headed to bed, goodnight Evan."

"Goodnight," He said a little surprised; he used his real name instead of the customary 'freak.' Then, as an afterthought, he asked without turning, "Dana?"

"What?" he heard her whisper back.

"If you're coming out for the full moon tomorrow night, you might want to wear baggier clothes. You're rather easily identifiable in your current ones, especially in this light."

There was a pause before she thanked him, and he heard her shuffle off through the field. He waited a few more minutes before heading back to his own cabin. Evan thought of sharing the moonlight with Dana and smiled knowing he had seen something of her which probably few had ever seen before.

The next night he didn't bother following Dana but headed for the field. Sure enough there she was sitting on her rock. He greeted her, and this time she didn't jump.

"Hi Evan. I wondered if you'd be here," she said, not taking her eyes off the moon.

"I wondered the same, but figured a full moon like this is hard to pass up." He then saw she was wearing looser clothes. "I see you followed my wardrobe suggestion."

"Yeah, well it was a good one. I forget about my uh, silhouette."

"Yeah, But now, in this moonlight, they can probably see our faces. Starlight is better to sneak by."

"Oh, but it's so hard to see by that kind of light."

"They do have these things called flashlights Dana."

"I know that," she said glaring at him, "But I hate ruining my night vision."

"As do I, but it comes back. Besides I'd rather ruin my night vision then trip on a tree root."

"You have a point," Dana said. Then she moved over on the rock and said, "Why don't you sit, there's room for the both of us."

Evan, not wanting to argue, sat down next to her on the big rock.

"You surprised me, Evan," Dana said a while later, out of the blue.

"Yeah, sorry about that, last night..." Evan said a little sheepishly.

"Well, that was also a shock, but I'm not talking about that. When you showed and I called you a name; I half expected blackmail or you to blab my secret."

"Well, one; I'm not that type of guy; and two; it would have gotten me in trouble as well. I'm jut wondering why you feel you have to hide anything from people? So you like nature, so what? Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you can't like nature too?"

"First off, I don't like nature and the outdoors, I love it. It's the main reason I come to this camp, as for why I hide it, that's a long story."

"Well it's a nice night, and I got time, if you feel like telling, that is?”

Dana looked at him, seemingly considering him for a bit, then said; "Oh, what the hell, why not? It'll be good to tell someone, but you can't tell a soul what you hear. Do and it'll be a long summer for you."

Evan nodded, thinking it was already shaping up to be a long summer as it was, and she launched into her tale.

It turned out her parents were the sort that drove their children hard. Demanding excellence and promising pain when she failed. Her dad had his mind set on her being some kind of doctor or lawyer, and wouldn't hear of anything else. Her mom could care less what she did so long as she looked pretty, and gave them plenty of grandkids.

Dana learned early the price of disappointing her parents, and it was too much to bear. Now she lived by her parents' wishes, only stealing a few things she truly desired, when she could.

Summing it up, she turned to Evan and said; "Which is how I got here, I told dad it'll look good on my college admission application. Well it worked, I got in. I was able to convince Dad that one last summer couldn't hurt. I wish I could spend it doing what you're doing, but mom said I had to be a camp lifeguard because they look prettier."

"So what do you want to be?"

"You'll laugh," she said, and Evan shook his head and reassured her he wouldn't. She sighed and said "A Park Ranger." No sooner had she told him, than her problem made sense as did the late night walks.

"I see you can't do it because you dad will hate it, and because your mom probably thinks it below a pretty girl like you." She nodded.

They sat enjoying the moon some more and discussing a few other things before both decided to call it a night. Evan left surprised at how easy Dana was to talk to when she didn't have her bitch persona active.

The next night the moon was dimmer and later, and so were his nights with Dana, or so he thought. A little over a week after the full moon Evan got a note from Dana. She wanted to challenge his flashlight theory.

It turned out to be a perfect night to star gaze. The pair laid on their rock pointing out stars and constellations that they knew. When they ran out Evan was surprised to feel Dana's hand grip his. Before he could react she spoke.

"You know it's weird, I know. We only met up twice to watch the moon but I missed this. I feel so free when I'm out here with you. I can be me and no one is judging me, just my friend Evan and I; enjoying the beauty of the outdoors."

"Dana we can do this as often as we're able if you want."

For the next two weeks they did just that.

She smiled and said, "I'd like that."

“By the way,” Evan asked as Dana and he were returning to the cabin area; “What college are you going to, this fall?

“The U of M Duluth” Dana answered. “But Dad doesn't know that I'm planning to switch majors in the spring.”

Evan could barely contain his glee. She was going to be living in Duluth, this fall!

Evan knew some higher power was shining on him because those two weeks had some of the prettiest nights he had ever seen. Then again, a lot of things seem prettier when you have a pretty girl along and even better when she's cuddled close to you.

The next evening, Evan told Dana that he lives just 3 miles from the UMD campus. Dana was so excited and asked him endless questions about campus life and local accommodations. Over those two weeks the pair grew closer and closer sharing their dreams and desires with each other.

Evan talked about his breakout wilderness camping itinerary.

"God, I'm so envious, Evan. A whole week in the forest, what I wouldn't give to go," Dana said after Evan mentioned the upcoming trip. Sign up for the week of prep classes, was coming soon.

"Then why don't you? I've been asking Fred for a female staffer to come, so the girls can come with for a while now."

"Evan, you know why I can't." she said quietly. Evan did know, it was the same reason that despite their closeness, Dana had maintained being a bitch to him in front of her friends. He took it stoically knowing she did not really mean it. His heart sank, remembering the reason he had not brought it up before. Then all the sudden he had a brainstorm.

"Wait, Dana, I got it! How hard would it be to get in major trouble this week?"

"Not hard, why?"

"Because if I know Fred; he'll give you something real nasty if you do something majorly bad, something like accompanying a guy you hate into the icky wilderness for a whole week. Especially if I've happened to plead my case to him right before he hears what you've done."

"That's brilliant!" Dana said with a smile that then faded as she thought of something, "Wait, wouldn't that seem a bit odd to people. I happened to get in trouble the night you lobby for a female staffer to come with on the trip?"

"Yeah, that'll happen Dana, everyone thinks we despise each other. Why would anyone assume we are working together? Fred will probably think its providence and just roll with it.

Besides you're perfect. You should draw a few girls in and girls will draw in my fence sitters. Plus you get to trick the camp into getting to go on the trip and I'll even make Fred assign you private lessons, so your skills will be up to snuff by trip time."

Dana felt an inward joy at the prospect of helping younger girls discover the marvels of nature. It stirred in her a sense of greater purpose. She smiled for a second then hugged him with joy. It was not the first time, as she often said goodbye after their nights together that way.

But something felt different about this hug. Evan looked at her to see what it was, and his vision became filled with her pretty brown eyes. She then held his chin and Evan knew what was coming next and eagerly anticipated it. He felt the soft lips touch his and it was if fireworks had been set off in every part of his body as his nerves burned with excitement.

He returned the kiss best he could and pulled Dana closer, still not believing he was kissing the hottest girl in camp. When the kiss broke, Dana spoke.

"I'm sorry I don't know;hmm" Her apology cut off by Evan's lips hungrily seeking more of that feeling he got from kissing her. She returned the kiss willingly and for the rest of the night the pair just made out under the star-filled sky. It would be one of the most memorable of Evan's life. After that night if no one was around he always got a goodnight kiss from Dana.

The next day Evan's plan worked perfectly. No sooner had he finished telling Fred the advantages of assigning a female staffer to the camping trip than low and behold Dana broke the rule about flirting with the campers one too many times.

As both Dana and Evan had hoped; Fred immediately assigned her to the trip for punishment. Admittedly Evan had had a point. If Dana, the pool goddess that many of the girls in camp practically worshipped, could not boost attendance among the girls and by extension the boys, no one could. As promised, Evan even asked for the lesson time when he heard it was Dana coming along.

That night Evan and Dana met up and he gave her a slightly hard time about being jealous of the boys at the pool. She ignored it and kissed him, this time using her tongue.

"There baby, you still jealous of the kids at the pool? None of them get to kiss me, especially like that, only a real man, my man, gets to do that."

"Your man?" Evan asked confused and a bit dazed... was he really her boyfriend?

"Yes silly," she answered seemingly anticipating Evan's question, "You're my boyfriend and the best one I've ever had, too. I've shared things with you I'd never dared share with anyone before. Now I have a surprise for you, to thank you for your help and to make up for that flirting I did."

"Oh well, you already did that."

"I want there to be no doubts, Big boy, now close your eyes and lay flat on the rock."

Evan had no idea what she had in mind but soon found out when he felt his zipper get pulled down. Second later he felt his shorts and boxers pulled down and only absolute trust in Dana kept him from opening his eyes.

He felt his cock go hard and could not help but smile at the gasp from Dana. Evan may not have been the strongest man in camp but there was one place he was not lacking size. He could only imagine the look on Dana's face; as the over nine inch cock stood proudly in front of her. He heard her shift slightly as her hand began stroking his shaft.

"You have a beautiful cock Evan," she said "Now relax while I make it feel real good."

The next thing he felt was her warm lips enveloping the hard shaft. After that everything outside of that mouth and tongue ceased to exist. He enjoyed the feeling until he could hold back no longer. Somehow he managed to tap her on the head and she only sucked harder. He came, and shot after shot of his warm cum erupted into her waiting mouth, and Dana swallowed it all.

When he regained the ability of rational thought Evan could not believe he had just gotten a blow job from Dana Reese. She pulled his pants and underwear back up for him before cuddling up to hi

Matching Day: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 22:30:00 +0000

Matching Day: Part 2

The struggle for honesty, and the grace to accept..

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

"So, tell me about your family, Mason," Livia said, tracing the lines of his palm with one finger. How long had they been out there? Although it felt like she'd been with Mason for only a few minutes, at most, she was deathly afraid that dawn would break soon, and they would have to part ways, sneaking back into their respective beds.

"Oh, they're nothing special," he said with a shrug. "My father's done pretty well for us with inter-community trade, and my mother's a self-proclaimed busybody. I have two little sisters who must hate me, for all the grief they cause me, and a cat that only eats because I ask him to every day."

Livia sympathized with the cat; she would follow Mason to the ends of the earth, if he asked her to and really meant it. She wouldn't tell him that, though. He still believed that the answer to all their problems was to run off into the wilderness and never look back.

"They must love you a lot, to plan a big wedding for you - and build you a house! My father expected my match to do that with his own two hands."

"Nah, they mostly just like being a spectacle in town, and a big wedding's the best way to ensure that everyone's talking about you. As for the house, I'd rather build it myself, honestly. I feel like a child with them paving the way for me like this."

"I'll bet Salvia's bragging to everyone who'll listen about her fairy-tale wedding and big stone house - at eighteen!"

Mason shrugged, looking stormy. "She keeps asking me when we can have our first baby boy. A baby? I'm not ready for a baby. I could go another decade before I would even think about having kids. I'll be nineteen when we get married, for gods' sake."

"Nineteen?"

"I barely missed the cutoff for the last age group, so I think I'm probably the oldest in ours."

A chill wind snuck down Livia's collar, and she shuddered, enjoying Mason's immediate response of wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back up against his chest. She could get used to being held that way. She lay her head back against his shoulder, and he sighed happily.

"Mason?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you still intend to marry her?"

He shook his head, tousling her hair where his chin rested on it. "That big house will be ours - yours and mine - or they can give it to one of my sisters, for all I care. All I want is you."

The chuckling scream of an owl broke the silence of the night, foreboding as the lustrous moon lay silver-lined shadows over the pair. "What are we going to do, Mason?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you we going to do? I mean, you're supposed to get married in a month, to Salvia, and I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life unhappy and alone. People are going to notice if either of those things don't happen."

"We could tell them that I prefer you to Salvia, " Mason said doubtfully, and Livia didn't even bother to reply. That was clearly not an option. "Or we could run, like I said originally."

"There's nowhere to run," Livia murmured.

"Then, I suppose, this is our only option."

"What is?"

"This. Meetings, like this."

"What, you mean you want to keep meeting me in secret like this?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Won't someone in Salvia's house notice that you sneak out every night?" Mason was living with Salvia's family until his own house was built in Micrague, but, to Salvia's dismay, he was not taking advantage of sleeping just down the hall from her.

"Probably not, and even if they do, I told them the very first day I went home with her that sometimes I preferred to sleep outside, under the stars." He chuckled. "They probably think I'm quite odd, but it really is nice, sometimes, to just lay out here and look up at them."

Livia snuggled closer to him and followed his eyes up to the dancing points of light in the rich blue-violet night. "But then, what happens next month, when your family send word for you to come home with her?"

"Hmm, the guys from Micrague probably don't remember what my match looked like, and you could answer to Salvia for the rest of your life, "

"But the girls who matched those boys would know I didn't match you. They'll definitely remember that I was the one who ended up with no one to love but a dead boy I never met."

"Gods, Livia, I don't know," he said, sounding frustrated. "What do you want me to say? That this can only go on until I'm called home?"

"Can't it?"

"Maybe it'll have to stop when I'm called home," he said, then shook his head fiercely. "No. No, one way or another, I'm going to marry you someday, Livia Russing."

Hearing her last name from his lips sent a jolt of reality through her system. "I don't know your last name, Mason," she said, eyes still fixed on the glittering treasure of the heavens.

"It's Griersley. Don't let that be the deciding point against me when you're deciding whether or not you want to marry me," he said with a grin.

"It's not bad."

"Is bad enough."

"But I still don't know you well enough to say that I love you, Mr. Griersley," she said, grinning a little herself. "For all I know, you could be an axe murderer."

"Well, you've been alone with me for hours now. Have you seen any signs that I'm going to be a danger to you?"

She giggled, then settled into seriousness. "No, I don't think you would hurt me."

He was still in a silly mood, grabbing her lightly around the neck and cackling evilly. "Now I've got you, princess!" he said in a nasal, grating voice. "You only thought I asked you here because I'm falling for you. In fact, I'm a hideous villain, bent on killing the loveliest and most brilliant girls in every community. You're my next victim!"

Livia laughed, twisting to kiss him again. It felt more natural every time their lips met; after hours of it, she felt like she'd been born to kiss him.

Dawn bleached the horizon and made the trees stand like motionless skeletons. Livia savored the taste of Mason's lips on hers as she clambered back into bed, wishing her quilt-shrouded mattress was half as comfortable as his arms.

With the promise of seeing him again that night, having him all to herself for hours and hours, she could make it through another day. She just wished night would come a little sooner.

There were moments, in the next few weeks, that made Livia wonder if the gods were making up for tormenting her with Bracken's death by saturating every moment with exhilarating euphoria.

Mason, his face glowing with the radiance of the simple joy her presence brought him, danced with her in the moon's spotlight, humming a song he made up on the spot, her twirling feet sending leaves spinning all around them and making the breeze whirl and seethe with jealousy.

His teeth stood like pearly bits of star against his tan skin as he laughed, dipping her low enough that her hair brushed the dirt forest floor, then bringing her lightly back to her feet with an easy, undemanding kiss.

Combing his fingers through her hair, he poured nonsense pieces of poetry into the night, laughing occasionally at a particularly horrible rhyme, calling for her to contribute as well. But she wouldn't interrupt the uninhibited rhythm of his deep, pleasant voice; she let his words roll pleasantly over her soul while his fingers did the same to her scalp.

Electricity lanced the night as their lips mimicked each other's shape, and each of them drew life from the other's wholehearted ardor.

Livia whispered, "I do, after all."

"Do what?"

"Love you."

Mason wrapped around her, keeping her warm as her discarded clothes could not. His lips were drawing a lazy line of kisses from her forehead down her nose, over her lips and onto her neck. He sucked gently at the spot where her neck ended and shoulder began, then dusted kisses across her collarbones.

His hands ran lightly along her sides, fingers brushing her skin from tits to hips and back again. She brushed her fingers through his hair, tugged on it in a mute request for him to make his way back to her mouth and kiss her as he had been for weeks, but his mouth was quite busy venturing to previously unexplored territory.

Mason's lips pressed against her sternum, and the softness just above her belly button, and then the softness just below. He shifted back onto his heels so he could more easily massage his way down her thighs and to her knees. Hungrily, he eyed her body.

"Mason?" She could barely manage the breath to whisper his name. Something was making her chest tight, making it hard to bring in air; she realized after a moment that it was fear. That was the thing with Mason , he frightened her. Not because he would ever hurt her, but because he looked at life and asked for more than he was given. He pushed boundaries.

His fingers were testing her boundaries now, working their way back up the inside of her legs and finding the intersection of her legs. He bent low, kissing her thigh just south of where his fingers rested, and his breath was both hot and cold on her body. It made her suddenly aware of a dampness there she did not recognize.

"Mason," she said again, more forcefully this time, and his eyes met hers.

"Yes?"

She licked her lips, trembling as he continued to breathe on her slick folds. "Are you planning to do what I think you're planning to do?"

"Only if you want it," Mason replied. He stared up at her for at least a minute before she realized she was meant to respond positively or negatively, but she had no answer. How could she think with his mouth practically pressed to her lips there? "Livia? Do you want to?"

"I, " She observed the tenderness with which he was stroking her thigh, and melted a bit. "Yes. Please."

Mason grinned. He leaned in just a bit closer and touched his lips to her, then slid his tongue between her folds, trailing it up to the nub of her clitoris , she gasped and tried to keep from shuddering, not wanting to break the contact , and then down until he circled her slit. His eyes sought hers, looking for approval; he must have seen it in her face, because he began to move his tongue in earnest, sliding it up and down, then delving into her opening as deeply as he could.

Livia squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on the feelings, but the intensity gave her a sense of vertigo so intense she almost felt herself sliding along the forest floor, as though the world had tipped off its axis. She clutched at Mason's shoulders to steady herself, digging her nails in harder than she realized.

As Mason's warm mouth moved against her most sensitive places, she began to feel something completely new. It was a need she had never experienced before, an urgent and desperate desire so foreign that she could hardly guess how to fulfill it. She would have thought that Mason's current activity would relieve it somehow, but it was only sharpening the edge on her hunger.

"Mason, I need;” she started. She wasn't sure how to finish. Mason stopped immediately, sensing her distress, sitting up and wiping his mouth.

"What? What do you need?"

"I don't, know." She spoke quietly, distractedly. When Mason sat up, he revealed the entirety of his nude form, and Livia found her attention drawn to his sizable manhood, standing at attention. She stared, beginning to get an idea of what it was she needed.

Picking up on her thoughts as though she was speaking them aloud, Mason abandoned his eager, if inexperienced, efforts to please her with his mouth and bent to press his body against hers again. He held himself just far enough off her that his weight would not oppress her, but the full length of his feverishly warm body covered hers, and the full length of his member pressed against her mound, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Mason slid his hips down, pulling his cock down her body until the head rested just where her lower lips parted, and then gravity and her own moisture pulled it the rest of the way. It came to rest just where it belonged, against her opening.

"Is this what you want?" Mason asked. With his mouth on her throat as it was, she felt more than heard his words.

She nodded, eyes closed. "Yes."

There was really no pain. Livia was surprised; she had heard from other girls that it was quite unpleasant the first time, sometimes even traumatic, but perhaps they had not had such tender first lovers, or perhaps they had not been so achingly, drenchedly eager to have their lover inside them. Livia hadn't even been aware of how badly she wanted Mason within her until he was, and all her tension drained out of her with a long sigh.

"It's perfect," she said, marveling at the fit of him in her. They were made for each other.

For many long minutes they were motionless, sharing each other , they were no longer two people, but a single entity, joined intimately.

"I'm yours, Livia." Mason's voice was husky, and Livia saw that it was costing him something to remain still, not to just claim her from the inside out; she saw also in the way he wrapped his arms tightly around her and squeezed as if he would never let go that he was happy to remain frozen in place and share the moment, happy even as he strained for more.

"And I'm yours. Take me, Mason."

And he did.

Eventually they fell asleep, still connected, and didn't wake until larks' songs began to break the stillness of the air with the dawn.

Just when she thought nothing could be more perfect, more beautiful, the gods realized their carelessness in letting too much rapture concentrate in just two small hearts, and they began to set things back to rights.

Livia picked her way through the now-familiar path from her house to their meeting place in the trees, stepping lightly over fallen branches and dodging snags and thorns with ease. She'd sat at her window all afternoon, watching the sun in its path, wishing it haste as it progressed toward the horizon. Her mother wondered what had gotten into her, but didn't mourn the change. It had been painful to see her daughter in such misery after Matching Day.

Just a little ways now, she thought cheerfully, wanting to whistle but deciding that would be imprudent. The fear of what they were doing didn't eat at her anymore, and she could almost forget, in the flawless moments with Mason, that there was anything wrong in what they did. When she saw Salvia, her face did not burn with blood, as it did at the beginning, and she did not hunch her shoulders against imagined accusations as she crossed the town now.

At the very moment it always seemed she had been walking too far, that she must have passed the clearing completely and needed to turn around, she saw Mason.

He was standing much as he had been the first night they'd met here, his hands balled into fists in his pockets, his eyes on the sky, standing in what she now recognized was his tensest stance, directly in the center of the clearing. He was wholly illuminated by a moon that approached full, and she could see the glistening tracks of tears on both cheeks, the slightest quiver to his bottom lip. Pain spiked just beneath her breastbone as she wondered distressedly what had upset him.

"Mason?" she called, tumbling out of the trees and into his arms. He barely caught her as she tripped over the undergrowth, landing ungracefully against his chest, and when she looked up into his face, she had never seen such despair.

"You came," he said brokenly. "I hoped you wouldn't."

"What?"

Rustling footsteps all around them told of the presence of others, and Mason's hands tightened on her upper arms as if he could somehow squeeze her out of sight.

Livia's head swiveled frantically from side to side as she tried to see each face as they appeared, grimacing, out of the shadows; at the front of them all, she saw Salvia's triumphant countenance.

And Mason's eyes never left hers, never stopped pleading with her to forgive him for asking her to meet him the very first time. She had the horrible, world-shaking, vomit-inducing thought that, perhaps, he had tired of her and betrayed her. Her eyes begged his to assure her that this could never be true, but there was too much self-condemnation in their greyness for her to be sure.

"You have broken a match, you and Miss Livia Russing, who was unmatched and took it upon herself to tear apart two compatible souls"

"Livia did not take it upon herself," Mason interjected. "I convinced her. I persuaded her to meet me there."

"Regardless, she took part in the breaking."

"No, no, none of it was her fault. Aren't you listening to me? She didn't intend to do anything wrong. If anyone deserves any sort of punishment, it's me. I knew full well what the consequences would be if I were caught, and I chose to do it anyway."

"Did you ever stop to consider your matched pair? Salvia?"

"Salvia and I were never compatible. Never. You must have made a mistake;”

"We do not make mistakes! We are the Matching Council. We know what is best for the community, and it's self-important children like you that sow dissension."

"You made at least one mistake, didn't you? Or did you forget so easily that you left Livia without a match?"

"Her situation was unfortunate, but not the fault of the Matching Council. If anyone should be blamed, it's the elders of Micrague for allowing such a tragedy to happen on their ground."

"Unfortunate? Unfortunate? You condemned her to a lifetime alone. And someone like Livia should never, ever be left alone. Someone like Salvia, on the other hand, "

"Enough! Talking to this boy further serves no purpose. He has already told us what we need to know. Tomorrow, he and the girl will receive their twenty lashes."

"Wait, wait, you're not listening! Livia didn't do anything wrong! Just by being caught, she's probably punished herself more than you ever could. Please, please, by the gods, have some mercy! She doesn't deserve any punishment!"

"Whether or not you feel she has done anything wrong, the law states that forty l

Matching Day: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 22:28:00 +0000

Matching Day: Part 1

To love risks more than just her heart.

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

Girls spend their entire lives looking forward to the fateful Matching Day - and whether or not they will admit it, boys, too, have at least a healthy curiosity. It's so reassuring, knowing that in your eighteenth year, you and your age-mates will be paired off, brought together with another from their own community or a surrounding one that match them perfectly. No song-and-dance dating rituals, like the ones in the books Livia liked to read, no old maids, no riotous bachelors; just simple, comforting compatibility.

"Have you heard?" The hushed, conspiratorial tones issued from the pink-lacquered lips of Livia's best friend, Mara.

"What?" Livia's low-pitched voice always made her sound disinterested, but she paid close attention to Mara when her friend sounded this urgent.

"There was a big accident over in Micrague. One guy died!"

"Oh, that's terrible," Livia murmured, letting her eyelashes drop and rise again to half-mast in a brief show of empathy. It was all she had time for, as Mara leaned suddenly, ever more urgently forward, gripping Livia's arm in both hands.

"That's not the worst thing," she rolled on. "The guy who was killed? He just turned eighteen. That makes the numbers for tomorrow's Matching uneven!"

Two full breaths, painful to the impatient Mara, passed before Livia spoke in response. "So, what, someone won't be paired? A girl will be left without her match?"

"Whoever matched with him will have no pair on Matching Day," Mara proclaimed ominously. Her eyes were wide and glittering with morbid excitement.

"What do they do about that?" It was unheard of, as far as Livia knew; there were always even numbers, always a perfect match for everyone.

Mara gave an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe she'll never be matched."

Livia was surprised into laughter. "They can't leave her without a match forever," she said with certainty. "Maybe they'll search out another community for someone that fits even better than that poor boy who died."

Her reassuring confidence sent Mara, humming, away to terrify someone else with proclamations of an eternity alone for some poor girl. The thought nagged at Livia for the rest of the afternoon, though. What if he was matched with me?

"Verin Massada," the stern voice called from the central platform, and a stick-thin brunette drifted toward the three steps that lifted her above the circle of impatient teenagers.

"Philip Pressia." The broad-shouldered redhead that stepped up to take Verin's hand smirked and bowed at the polite smattering of applause that ushered the happy new couple off the stage. Livia smiled approvingly; Verin needed a little more humor in her life.

Livia watched each girl she'd grown up with walk back into the circle, shyly clutching the hand of her new mate, and twisted her skirt nervously in her fingers. It seemed forever before the 'R's were called, and the wad of boys brought in from all the different communities steadily shrank. She met the clear grey eyes of one of the remaining boys as Clanley Ritchell was met by a generic-looking, dark-haired boy, and she thought fleetingly, I hope I'm matched with him. He seemed to be thinking the same thing; his face fell a little when he was called up to greet a willowy blond on the dais.

"Danica Soress," the voice demanded, and Livia stood a little straighter with a sharp intake of breath. Had she been skipped?

All the vague, incoherent fears that had accompanied Mara's morbid pronouncement coursed through Livia, charged with shame as some girls recognized the omission and turned to look at her with expressions of varying pity. Livia felt on the edge of tears.

She saw the blond - that wretched Salvia - pull the grey-eyed boy down to whisper cruelly in his ear and point in Livia's direction, and she contemplated melting into the dirt.

With the blood roaring loudly in her ears, she heard no other names called, and stared fixedly at a nondescript blade of grass in front of her to avoid the glances that were flickering toward her. How can this be? she thought frantically. How can I not have a match?

"Livia, what's going on?" Mara's face held ghoulish curiosity with only an edge of concern for her friend, and Livia couldn't deal with her. She turned without a word and marched to the fountain a good distance away from the platform. People were breaking off now, finding secluded spots to get to know this person with whom they'd be partnered forever. Livia, wrapping her arms tightly around her gut, had never felt so alone.

How could she have lost a lifetime of companionship without ever tasting it? It was too, too cruel. What right did that boy have to take away everything in one fell swoop? How could he die? She wanted to shake her fist at the heavens, demand an explanation, but she just trailed her fingers through the rippling water in the fountain basin, swallowing hard against the wave of emotions that threatened to show itself grotesquely in her features.

"His name was Bracken, if that helps," said a voice behind her, and she jumped, throwing water onto her dress. She turned to see that grey-eyed boy approaching, and she prepared herself for the humiliation she was sure to experience at his hands; he had, after all, been matched like everyone else, and she was alone - possibly forever.

He did not mock her, though; his eyes held the soft, cautious understanding of someone who pitied another, but was not sure whether that person desired sympathy or not. When she said nothing, he shrugged self-consciously. "Sorry, I realize you might not have wanted to know. I just, he was my best friend. I thought if you did want to know about him, I'd at least let you know who you could ask."

A flood of gratitude made it temporarily impossible for her to speak, and then she forced a smile. "I think I'd like to know," she said hesitantly. She wasn't sure; would it be better to know nothing about what she'd never have, or to at least have pleasant thoughts about what could've been? "Can I ask you something now?"

"Absolutely."

"Would I have liked him?"

The boy nodded. "I think so. He was quiet at first, it took a while to get to know him. But once you did, there was no one you trusted more." He added, with the hesitation of an afterthought but the seriousness of something he'd intended to say all along, "Seeing you here, there's no doubt that he would have liked you."

He gave Livia one last smile and lay his hand over hers for a moment, ignoring the water droplets that sat on it like dew. For a warm second, she felt a rush of what it might have been like to have someone get to know her intimately over a lifetime, to love and understand her and for her to love back, and then the grey-eyed boy was walking with wide strides back to Salvia, and nothing but a hollow sadness remained beneath her breastbone.

Livia hated them. All of them.

The girls with their softly rolling curls, teased and coached for hours in order to look casually delicate when the boys, their shirts tucked in and their shoes shined, arrived at their doorsteps carrying one or two or twenty flowers in one hand and a shining invitation in the other. They walked with springing steps the short distance to the gathering hall in the center of town, hand in hand or arm in arm, and Livia wanted to throw rocks at the whole lot of them.

She had been invited, sort of, to join in on the festivities. The community officials, not sure what to do with the first single person over eighteen in a century, had hesitantly allowed for her participation in all the new couples' activities; so far, she had partaken in none of them.

Desperately, she wanted to be a part of the revelry, but she could not force herself to walk into the rooms full of happy girls and their happy boys, and have nothing herself. Her mother, unable to comfort her, had begged her to go to the dance. It was the last night before all the boys would be returning to their own communities, taking their matches with them. It was the last night she would seek Mara, who had paired with a boy from Onek.

And she'd tried: she'd gotten dressed, piled her hair up on top of her head and pulled her elbow-length gloves on, but nothing could motivate her to step outside her house as streams of giggling lovebirds trickled by on the way to the hall.

"Go, Livia," her mother said, coming up behind her with a basket of laundry on her hip. "You should at least go long enough to say goodbye to Mara."

"I can't, Mama. Think of how they'll look at me!"

Her mother bent Livia's head down to kiss her on the forehead. "It's not your fault, Neinei, and they know that. They feel bad for you. They all want to see you. The world didn't end when that poor boy died."

"Bracken," Livia said defiantly. Her mother had refused to say his name, insisting that it was better for Livia to know nothing about what she had lost.

Patting her daughter's shoulder, she adjusted her basket and turned to leave. "Go."

Livia had retreated around the side of the gathering hall, standing just outside the golden pool of light that poured like honey from the windows. Sobs caught in her throat and were choked down, unvoiced, as she watched Mara and Verin and Danica and dozens of others receive chaste pecks from shy boys as they spun by in their brightly-colored dresses, waving fluted, bubbling glasses and laughing with abandon.

And there, the grey-eyed boy, Bracken's best friend, was seated quietly with his hands folded in his lap, listening politely to an enthusiastic rendition of some trivial event or another by Salvia. It was always easy to tell when she was excited about something, as her arms pinwheeled and hands fluttered with no thought to how the gestures went along with the story.

He glanced up, and his eyes met, for a moment, Livia's. He looked surprised to see her there, and then a bit sad, and then his gaze drifted back to Salvia, who had grabbed his knee in her earnestness.

This infinitesimal rejection, the refusal to even meet her eyes for more than a moment, pushed Livia over the edge. Tears, burning like acid, washed over her face, and she stumbled away from the window, crying with pitiful lack of restraint.

She staggered into the sparse forest, the trees providing scattered shelter from curious eyes, if any should choose to drift away from the golden party, and the darkness of the night fit her mood, a strangely soothing thought.

"Are you alright?" For the second time, the grey-eyed boy's voice jolted her out of her own misery. She would not face him; not now, when her eyes were puffy and irritated, her nose red and her face streaked with dirty tear tracks. He would see her and compare her to Salvia, and she would fall short; she could not handle right now seeing him weigh her that way and find her lacking.

His hand on her back was another surprise, and then both his hands weighing down on her shoulders as he stepped closer behind her. "Hey," he said gently. "Everything will turn out fine. Maybe, maybe you'll find someone better than Bracken could have been for you."

She forgot her resolution not to face him then, turning toward him with her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "How could I, when everyone is paired already? Besides, I had my chance - he just managed to get himself killed before I could even meet him!" The words came out much harsher than she intended, and the young man in front of her actually took a step back from her ferocity, hunching like she'd landed a blow to his gut. "I'm sorry," she said immediately, automatically. "I shouldn't have said that. He was your friend, "

"It's alright," he said, giving her a ghost of a smile and waving his hand with a nonchalance that didn't show in his eyes. He had that gentle look of quiet appreciation of life that came to some people who lost loved ones, but knew that lost friend would be offended if they did not continue to smile. "I know it's probably really hard on you, seeing everyone so, happy." He trailed off, not looking happy in the least.

"Speaking of happy people, shouldn't you be in there with Salvia?"

His face took on the contemplative expression of someone deciding how to phrase something delicately. "Salvia, she's not quite what I expected to find, on my Matching Day. She's, "

"Lively?" Livia suggested. "Brazen? Exuberant?"

obnoxious," the grey-eyed boy said decisively. "I don't like her at all."

Livia smirked. "Well, you have to like her. She's your match. You love her."

He shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I don't."

"But she's your perfect match," Livia insisted.

"But what if she's not?"

Livia heard her heart beat twice before she asked, "What?"

"What if Salvia is not the perfect girl for me? What if the girl that I would love more than anyone else in the world couldn't be matched with me because, there was someone else our age who she would like a little bit better?"

"That doesn't even make sense," Livia said, shaking her head. "The matches have always been perfect: even numbers, complete compatibility;”

"But this time they messed up, right? I mean, you should know. You're the person who's affected more than anyone else."

"Well, yes, but;”

"So why isn't it possible that they aren't right on everything else? What if they didn't match this girl with me because she would love this other guy more?"

"Well, so, maybe they did. But if you would love her so much, surely you would want to see her happy, with the man she was meant to be with, right?"

"Yes," he said, very seriously. "I would want to see her happy."

"Then you should leave her in peace with the person she was matched with, and focus on learning to love the girl you were paired with."

The interminable silence stretched between them as the grey-eyed boy stared down at the leafy ground and Livia watched the way his hair blew across his forehead in the breeze. At last he said, "What if she wasn't matched with anyone?"

Livia's heart sped up, beating double time as she realized what he'd been saying all along, what she'd been too dim to put together until he'd spelled it out. "But you are matched," she said numbly. "Salvia has you."

He leaned dangerously far forward, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered into it, "I don't want Salvia."

Livia shrank back, confused. These were dangerous words he uttered, dangerous thoughts. People were matched with the people they were meant to be with. How could there be any other way? They couldn't be wrong; there'd been no divorce, no infidelity, no broken hearts in the decades people had been paired this way. Surely it was the right way. It had to be.

"I don't even know your name," Livia said resolutely, as though that settled the matter and proved him wrong. She pushed against his chest to force him back, feeling the blazing heat of his heart under her palm.

"It's Mason," he said quietly, and his words had the sound of discussion-ending power to them too. Livia was conscious of the fact that she had not moved her hand from his chest; her fingers curled slightly, enjoying the silky feeling of his shirt over his skin, and the warmth that radiated from his flesh.

"Go back to Salvia, Mason," she whispered. She realized she was shaking from head to toe, and not from cold. Here was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had imagined when she thought of her Matching Day, but he was not hers. "Please, go back to the party."

With a sigh, Mason touched her cheek briefly, the lightest of butterfly wing contacts, and then he turned and vanished into the night, not toward the party, but deeper into the forest. Livia stood for a long time without moving, her mind racing and her heart pounding like a runner's feet, and then she walked, slowly, directly away from Mason.

"You didn't come to the party last night," Mara said, breaking the silence that stood like frosted glass between her and Livia.

"No." Livia had gotten no sleep the night before; lying in bed, replaying continually the frightening moments with Mason, her heart had never slowed.

"Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, " Mara twisted her hands for a moment before wrapping Livia up in a warm and desperate hug. "I'm sorry, Lenny. I'm going to miss you so much."

The tension between them melted, and Livia returned the hug tightly, sighing. "It's hard to believe I'll never see any of you again - all the girls I've known all my life! Except for Maize and Crista, they're the only ones who matched with boys from here, right? And I don't really even know them."

"Well, you'll see Salvia too, for a little while."

Breathe in. Breathe out. "Why's that?"

"Oh, that fellow she paired with - Mason, isn't it? - his parents have some sort of huge wedding ceremony planned, and they've got a house mostly built for the two of them. They told him to stay here a while, get to know his partner's family for a bit, let her spend some more time with them, and then head back once the house and all the plans were done."

Wedding were an extravagance, a luxury that most people went without, especially if they didn't have the means to make it a massive event. The fact that Mason's family was going to such lengths meant they must be well off indeed.

"So Mason, and Salvia, will be around for a while?"

"Yeah, at least a month, I'd say."

A buzzing numbness in her extremities made it difficult for Livia to respond. She had thought Mason would be gone today, that she'd never have to see him and Salvia together again. But they would be here for a month,

"Speak of the devil," Mara said cheerfully, skipping over to greet Salvia as she pranced up the path with Mason's hand gripped in her own vice-like claw. The dark circles under his eyes said that he, too, had had a night with little sleep.

"Good morning, Mara, Livia," he said politely, giving each of them a little nod. His eyes lingered on Livia, though, and she found herself blushing and rushing to hug Mara goodbye again and begging for many letters describing life in Onek in great detail.

But then Mara left, and Salvia, Mason and Livia were left standing in an awkwardly isosceles triangle. "So, " Livia said at length, rocking back and forth in her slippers. "How was the party last night?"

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Tue, 23 Jun 2026 06:32:00 +0000

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 2

The Women of '77 Changed My Life.

Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Discrete Services.

"Wait; Mrs. Bateman; she paid to have sex with me?"

"Yes, Todd."

"I don't believe it; She's beautiful, I'd have fucked her for free! Any guy would!"

"True, but she's married and discretion is of vital importance. That is half of what she's paying for. A great fuck is the other half. And she said it was worth every penny. In fact she wants to come back next Friday, same time."

As I stood there trying to come to grips with this revelation, Mrs. Bateman knelt on the bed, her face pressed into the wet sheets. She inhaled the scent and moaned. I glanced over and saw far enough under her skirt to see she was wearing thigh high stockings rather than pantyhose. I stepped closer and lifted her skirt. She was panty-less. I touched her pussy and found she was very wet.

Management Appreciation.

"God, Mrs. Bateman, your pussy is soaking wet! Would you like me to fuck it?" I said playfully.

"Would you, Todd? That would be so nice."

I fucked her from behind as she cooed encouragement.

"Oh, that's so good Todd. You have such a big cock. You really are such a nice boy. Yes, just like that. Fuck me, Todd, fuck me good. Oh yes."

Despite the vigorous sex with Diane, I had no trouble getting stiff for my mentor, which is what I realized she was. And I was thoroughly enjoying fucking her. Holding her hips and thrusting into her was nice and I could watch my cock sliding in and out. I could see her pussy stretching to accept my cock and when I pulled back, it was covered in her wetness.

"Spank me, Todd."

"What?"

"Spank me!" she said more forcefully. "Spank my ass with your palm."

I did and she swore.

"Harder!"

I smacked her and she yelped.

"Yes! That's it! Again! Yes! Not too hard and not too often, okay? You start with a small, light smack and wait to see if she likes it. God, you feel good. Okay, slow it down a bit. That's it, that's it; Yes; Now, I want you to pull out and then press it in slowly. Oh yes, just like that. No, don't shove it in, just ease the tip in; and out; and in...Oh yes, that good. Keep that up for a bit."

This felt incredible! The sensation of repeated penetration was amazing but the stimulation was going to make me cum.

"I'm going to cum, Mrs. Bateman!"

She turned and faced me, grabbing my cock and thrusting it into her mouth and her hands stroked and caressed me. I shot my load into her mouth as she locked her eyes with mine. It was wild, cumming as I stared into her eyes. This time when she'd drained me, she leaned back a bit lifting and cradling her tits. She opened her mouth. Cum flowed over her lips, down her chin, and dripped onto her tits. As I watched she played with it. She ran her fingers through it and then rubbed it into her skin like lotion. And she was smiling wickedly the whole time.

We showered, put on robes, and had dinner. Later I changed and went home to await Mom's nightly check-in. After that, I returned to Mrs. Bateman's and we slept in her bed. No sex, just cuddling, kissing, and talking. And it was wonderful.

The next morning I awoke with my typical morning woodie and my first thought was to try and fuck the woman sleeping next to me. However she had other ideas and gave me my first titty-fuck. She sucked my cock a bit, licked it up and down, then wrapped her titties around it and stroked. It was fun. Then she laid down and I straddled her, placing my cock between her tits which she then pressed together. As I thrust back and forth she giggled and encouraged me. In a few minutes I came. She grasped my cock, closed her eyes, and directed my spurts of cum to completely cover her face. She then rubbed it around and even licked and swallowed some. She forced her eyes open and stumbled to the dresser mirror. Looking at her image she laughed.

"God, that's a lot of cum!" she giggled. "It's weird I know, but I love it so!" She washed her face and shooed me off.

A little later as we ate breakfast she said,

"You and I are not fucking today. You need to rest up for this evening."

"Why?"

Sue's Asian Erotics.

"You have another client coming over."

"Oh?" I said, my eyebrows raising.

That afternoon I went to service the Caddy and when I returned there was another car there. I went in, they were again sitting in the living room.

"Good! You're here, come on in," she gestured at the other woman, "This is Sue."

I noticed she did not elaborate, no last name given. "Sue, this is Todd."

Sue looked at me and smiled, "Hello Todd."

I smiled, "Hello."

Sue was Japanese and it was difficult to guess her age but she had to be in her late thirties or early forties. She was pretty and wore her black hair long and gathered in the back. She had a nice smile and her dark eyes were obviously sizing me up. It felt awkward. Finally she stood and approached me. I stood still as she circled me, one hand gently gliding across my chest, then my back.

Sue was probably 5'3". She had a rather petite figure but possessed an air of sophistication and authority. She was wearing a dark blue dress.

"Yes, I believe he'll do." she said, then paused and looked at me again. "He understands what; is required? This is all discrete of course;"

"Of course," Mrs. Bateman replied and fixed me with an icy stare. "He has far too much to lose."

Sue nodded and headed for the stairs. Mrs. Bateman put her arm around me and kissed my neck.

"Okay Todd, this is going to be a little different. Sue has fantasies. Many women do. Her's is being taken. Not raped, but you must use a little force to overcome her reluctance. Nothing brutal or violent. She will resist a little and you press on, ignoring it. But if she says 'No' or 'Stop', by god you'd better stop immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I think so. She wants to pretend to resist but really wants it."

"Yes."

Nervously I went upstairs and knocked on the guest room door. It opened and I stepped in. Sue closed the door behind me and I heard it lock. She had removed the dress and draped it across the chair. Now she wore a small silky white camisole and panties (I would later learn they were called tap panties and resembled running shorts). She said nothing but walked slowly around and climbed onto the bed. Nervously, I began to strip.

It wasn't until I was naked and turned to face that she spoke.

"Olivia was right! You are big!" she said as she reached out to grasp my swelling cock.

I moaned as she squeezed and tugged gently. She rose onto her knees and we kissed. She moved her head from side to side and her kisses grew more intense. I slipped my hands under her camisole but she pushed them away.

"Not yet!"

"Okay, no rush." I said and she backed away.

"You know what to do? What I want?"

"Yes, Mrs. Bateman explained."

She closed her eyes and was quiet for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay, begin."

I rose from the bed and walked towards her. Sue turned and faced the wall. I reached out and gripped her shoulders, she flinched and said something in Japanese. I pulled her to me and she resisted. I wrapped my arms about her and kissed her neck. Sue repeated the word, it sounded like 'bango', but short and harsh. I began to slide my hands down and around her waist, she kept her arms clenched tightly over her chest. I kissed the other side of her neck and my kisses slowly climbed up into her hair, behind her ear. I whispered.

"I want you; you are so beautiful; give yourself to me, please;"

Sue muttered something I couldn't understand. I slid my hands around, onto her belly, my left moved up, under her camisole until her arms stopped me just below her breasts. My right then slid down into her panties.

She said something like "Shinaide kudasai;" and tried to pull away.

I leaned into her and pressed her against the wall. My hand had reached her mound and I felt her fur. Sue dropped one hand to grasp my wrist. My left hand slid up until it cupped her right breast. It was small but firm and she gasped. I pushed further with my right hand and my fingers found and explored her folds. She whimpered and mumbled words I couldn't make out. I continued to kiss her neck and ear. I continued to gently rub her pussy but didn't try to penetrate her for another minute or two.

Slipping my hands free I grasped her shoulders and spun her around. I held her head in both hands and kissed her. She resisted, but only after a moment, turning her head. I then kissed that side of her face, her neck and shoulder. Her chin rose as she mumbled something at the ceiling. I kissed her exposed throat and she seemed to tremble a little. I kissed further down her throat to her chest, as far as the camisole . My hand sliding down to her waist, over her hips and onto her thighs.

Then, very slowly, my kisses rose upwards to her throat and mouth. This time when I kissed her lips she didn't resist. She didn't participate in the kiss, she merely allowed it. My hands, as they rose from her hips slid under her camisole and it lifted. She tried to back away but was against the wall. As my hands reached her armpits I lifted her arms over her head, the camisole following, her breasts exposed as the silk covered her face.

Sue was petite and her breasts were small but firm. Her nipples seemed abnormally large in comparison and were stiff and erect in the center of small, dark red areola. I lowered my head and covered them in kisses. Sue continued to mutter in Japanese as I held her arms up. My kisses then roamed higher, up her throat. I kissed her mouth again, shielded by the silk. This time she hesitated then participated in the kiss, her lips moving with mine. I began to slide my hands higher carrying the camisole over her head ever so slowly. I stopped with the silk covering her eyes but our lips met. The kiss was longer and deeper and ever so slowly she seemed to yield more and more.

I now had a raging hard on and wanted her badly. I lifted the camisole higher and she pulled her arms free, immediately covering her breasts. I scooped her up and spun, dropping her on the bed. Before she could react, I grabbed her panties and pulled them down and off. She clamped her legs together with one hand over her pussy, the other arm over her breasts. Sue was pleading in Japanese as I grasped her knees and forced her legs open. I peeled her hand away and kissed her dark furred mound, then nuzzled my way down to her wet folds.

And Sue was wet. Very wet. As my tongue worked its way in between her lips to lap her juices, Sue moaned loudly. I forced myself to slow down and remember my lessons. I focused on exploring her pussy, ignoring her clitoris. I licked her slit from bottom to top and teased her by trying to thrust my tongue into her. Sue had one hand on my head as if to push me away, though she didn't try very hard. She continued to mutter and mumble and even squeeze with her legs as I caressed her thighs and hips. Finally she ceased altogether as I brought her clitoris into play. Her moans grew louder and her hips started rocking. I waited until she seemed really close and then started sucking on her clit, and flicking it rapidly with the tip of my tongue.

Sue started babbling and pawing at my head with both hands. Then her legs began to tremble and quiver, she thrust her hips upwards and cried out.

"Hai! Hai! Hai! Ah!"

She tensed up, her body rigid yet her muscles trembling, then collapsed.

Seizing the opportunity I grabbed my cock and pressed the tip between her lips. Sue's eyes flew open.

"Dame, dame, dame!" she begged.

I thrust into her and we both cried out. Damn she was tight. Soaking wet but tight. I pulled back and thrust again. Again Sue cried out, I pulled back and thrust again and again and again as she cried and squeezed her breasts. As I thrust faster and faster she panted, the first words in English since we started.

"Too much! Oh god! Too much, too much! Oh god!"

I was afraid she was about to stop me but she didn't. Instead she grasped my right hand and placed it on her throat. I didn't expect this and, confused, I slowed down. Sure reached up and grabbed me by the throat with both hands.

"Fuck me!" she whispered then uttered a stream of harsh sounding Japanese.

Okay, well if this is what she wants; I thrust harder and faster and her grip weakened and then failed. I forcibly kissed her without any reaction from her. I was pounding her pussy and she was wailing and crying. She didn't say anything but suddenly I felt her body stiffen and her pussy spasmed around my cock. It was like a fist was squeezing it. I exploded, my cum spurting out and filling her.

After what seemed ages, she went limp. I sat up and as I pulled out, a flood of cum flowed out and down. I watched it for a moment then lay down next to her. After a few minutes she stirred. Her hands explored her body, down to her pussy. She rolled to face me. Scooting close she whispered in my ear.

"That was incredible; But I have one more favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"To conclude my fantasy, I need you to bathe with me."

Okay...

The guest bedroom we were using had its own full bath which included a big tub. Sue and I bathed together and even fucked again, albeit nice and slow. She dressed and then paused at the door. Turning she cupped my face in her hand.

"This; was very important to me. I cannot explain why. Just know you have pleased me. Greatly. I will not be back; but I am happy to have had this; affair. Goodbye Todd."

She handed me a thick envelope and left. I waited a minute and then dressed and went downstairs. Mrs. Bateman was sitting at the kitchen table.

"She said you were perfect. She said she was happy, satisfied and sore."

"What was all that about?" I asked.

"I believe she was exorcising a demon from her past." Mrs. Bateman replied. "Something she wanted to revisit."

"Well it sure was different."

"Tell me everything, Todd, and while you do I'll fix you some dinner."

Later I dashed home for Mom's 9PM call and then went back to Mrs. Bateman's. We slept together but didn't fuck. She did end up giving me a great blow job before I fell asleep.

Mammary Mary.

The next couple of days were spent working on her rent house for a few hours and then after dinner, fucking. She showed me new positions and taught me different techniques. We also worked on my foreplay and oral skills. My next client came on Wednesday.

I was introduced to an older woman named Mary. She looked me over and, nodding, handed an envelope to Mrs. Bateman. Instead of preceding me up to the room, she took me by the hand and led me upstairs.

Mary was older than anyone I had considered having sex with. She was easily fifty or fifty five. But when she dropped her dress I saw only a very sexy woman. Mary stood 5'7" in her high heels, had dark brown hair and brown eyes and an amazing figure. She stood there facing me in black stockings, panties, garter belt and bra. As she strutted across the room to me her eyes never left mine. I felt like she was stalking me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. The first kiss was about five or six seconds, the second was much longer and open mouthed. Then came tongue, but not closed mouthed French kissing. Rather it was open mouthed, her tongue teasing and enticing, dancing just out of reach. She laughed and reached down to rub my crotch.

Grabbing my belt she pulled me to the bed. Mary sat and unfastened my belt and jeans then tugged them down, along with my underwear. She toyed with my swelling cock, looked up at me and smiled. She paused to remove her bra. Her tits were probably D cups but sagged, her nipples pointing downward more. Her areola were so pale they were almost invisible but her nipples were nice and long. She still said nothing at all but started stroking my cock.

She had magic hands. I'd never felt anyone milk my cock like she was. Mary had a technique that was incredible and in no time I was ready to cum. I warned her that I was close, but she just smiled.

"Come on then! Give it to me! Give it to me!"

I grunted and came, spurting rope after rope of cum onto her chest and tits. Mary continued to milk my cock until the last drop was deposited on her skin. She stood up and stepped over to the mirror on the dresser. She stood there, admiring her image and smiling for a moment then did something totally surprising. She reached into her bag and pulled out a camera. I recognized it as a Rolleiflex.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked.

"Yes, my Dad has one."

"Do you know how to use it?"

"Sure;"

"Good," she handed it to me. "Take a few pictures of my spunk covered titties."

I opened the camera, took a couple, then suggested she lie on the bed and adjusted the lamp to a better angle and took a few more. She then began to run her fingers through the cum, and told me to take more pictures as she played with it. Finally she pulled her panties off and had me take a couple of photos of her pussy.

Now her pussy was crowned with short, dark hair but her pussy itself was almost bare, covered only by a little fuzz and her lips were long and dark. I took a few photos and tried to get really close, but the camera wouldn't focus really close.

She sat up and took the camera and placed it back in her bag. She turned and pointed to the bed. I laid down and she squatted and sat on my face, gripping the headboard. I tasted her, she wasn't as sweet as Diane but okay. I went to work and as I did she proceeded to hum. Soon she was rocking her hips a bit, then more and more. She was at last producing a fair quantity of fluids and paused to finger herself.

Satisfied, she scooted down until she was over my cock, grasped it and inserted it. She short-stroked a few times until everything was good and wet and then started taking it all the way in long, slow strokes. She seemed to really like it slow and, well, what the heck? It was sex after all. So what if she was older with weird habits and tastes? I relaxed and savored the feeling of her slow ride as I caressed and squeezed her tits.

"You have such a nice cock, Todd," she said and sighed as she took it all. "So nice. You like my titties? Everyone does. Go ahead and suck on them, suck hard, I don't mind. In fact I want you to suck on them till it hurts. Yes; now the other one; oh; yes; Would it shock you to know that I like it rough? That I like a little pain?"

As I sucked on her tit I spanked her. Mary yelped then grinned.

"Yes, please!"

"Harder;" Smack.

"Harder!" Whack!

"Yes!" Whack!

"More! Please!" Whack!

Acting on impulse I grabbed her hips and rocked her forward onto her knees. With her weight off of me I started driving my cock in and out of her faster and faster. Mary's voice rose an octave or two.

"Ah!"

As I fucked her, my hands were squeezing her ass and I felt her puckered asshole beneath my middle finger. I pushed on it.

"Oh My God! Yes! Yes! Do It!" she cried out.

I pushed harder and the tip of my finger penetrated her to my first knuckle.

"Oh! Oh god, oh god, oh god;" she moaned. "Spank me! Bite me! Fuck me!"

I sucked as much of her tit into my mouth as possible and bit down, albeit lightly, just enough for her to feel my teeth, as I spanked her with my left hand. She yelped and jerked and my finger slid in up to the second knuckle. I could feel my dick sliding in and out I pressed down towards it.

""Oh God! Gah!" she screamed and climaxed. Her body shook and tears filled her eyes. Soon she collapsed on top of me and sobbed.

A few minutes passed and s

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Mon, 22 Jun 2026 06:29:00 +0000

Mrs. Bateman's Cougar Club: Part 1

The Summer of '77 Changed My Life.

Based on a post by Sel Wync Dog. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Way back in 1977, I was a naive 18-year-old. Summer was here and I wanted to spend it having fun. I was going to start college in the fall and luckily, didn't have to work. Mom and Dad were fortunate and made good money. He was the VP of Advertising and Marketing for a major energy company and Mom was actually a successful author. I had a generous allowance and a car (a white '73 BMW) It had been Dad's, and he gave it to me at graduation.

I guess I should tell you about myself. I was a blonde-haired, skinny white boy with blue eyes and a big dick. Not that I'd done anything with it. It was just genetics. I knew I was bigger than my friends, but none of the girls I knew were aware of that and I was too shy to advertise it. Hell, I wasn't even sure what to do with it. My first experiments with jacking off were surprising and yet disappointing. I wanted a woman. But as I said, I was painfully shy around the females of the species.

My best friend throughout school had been Rick Bateman. Rick had joined the Navy after graduating, and was off at boot camp. Well, one day his Mom called. She said that with Rick gone, she needed help with a few things involving the pool and asked if I would come over. My Mom of course said yes without even asking me.

"Todd, go on over to Olivia Bateman's and give her a hand with her pool."

I rang the doorbell and she let me in.

"Thank you for coming over Todd! I was hoping you weren't too busy."

"Not at all Mrs. Bateman," I replied. "Just listening to albums."

"That's nice, Rick likes the Eagles. Do you?"

"Oh yeah! They're awesome!"

She led me out into the back yard, Like most people in our neighborhood, she had a pool. "With Rick around, I never hired a pool service, but now; I'm here alone, and I would rather hire the maintenance done." She gestured at the pool.

Since Rick had been gone, it had accumulated a layer of leaves.

"No problem," I said. I'll take care of it."

She went inside and I set to work.

Amazingly it wasn't too bad. I was finishing up when I heard her come outside again. Now their pool was inside a privacy fence but when I turned around I was surprised. She was wearing a white bathrobe. Outside. In June.

Looking back I can say Mrs. Bateman was about 5'7", 130 to 140 pounds, and very curvy. Her tits had to be in the double to triple D range. Her wavy dark brown hair was worn most often loose and reached her shoulders. Of course, although I acknowledged her as attractive for a middle-aged woman, she was forty-one years old, but I hadn't really thought of her in a sexual way. I'd known her and Rick for twelve years. Her husband had passed away about six years earlier from cancer.

As I stared she dropped the robe onto a chaise. She was completely naked. She slowly walked over to the pool and down the steps. She finally turned to face me when she was waist-deep.

"I just love having a pool!" she said smiling. "And I hate the idea of paying someone to tend to it. Do you think you could do it for me, Todd?"

"Umm; I guess so." I automatically answered.

"Wonderful!"

She turned over and floated on her back, slowly going the length of the pool. She turned and swam back then faced me again.

"Well, Todd?"

"Huh?"

I stared at her big tits as they floated in full view.

"Are you coming in?"

"Uh;"

"Todd, when a woman gets naked and invites you to skinny dip with her; you really should. Wouldn't you rather touch these than just stare at them?" she said as she cupped her breasts.

Okay, as I said earlier, I was awkward and nervous around girls and not experienced or confident. But the offer finally overcame my shyness and I quickly stripped and dove in. Now the view of her big breasts had aroused me somewhat, but my nervousness had prevented a full-blown hard-on. I suddenly found myself in front of her and she slipped her arms around me and pulled me close. She kissed me and I felt her breasts pressing into me. I felt my erection growing. She did too; and reached down to grasp the thick rod. No one had ever done that. I almost came right then. But she was experienced enough to realize how careful she had to be. She smiled and released me after a moment.

"My, you are blessed, aren't you, Todd? Why aren't the girls all over you?"

I blushed. "I...uh;"

"Oh? Really? You're still a virgin? Well, that won't do. That won't do at all. Here," she patted the edge of the pool, "sit up here. I want to visit Mr. Todd for a while"

As I sat on the pool edge she spread my legs wide, then toyed and stroked my cock gently while smiling at me.

"Such a nice, big cock." she said.

Then she kissed it, licked it up and down, and finally slipped it into her mouth. She sucked on it as she stroked it. Her grip was firm. I reclined back and rested on my elbows. In no time, I knew I was going to cum. I tried to warn her but she ignored me and I blew my load into her mouth.

Mrs. Bateman didn't miss a beat and continued to swallow it all as she stroked my jerking cock. I was stunned. I didn't know that was a thing. I had no idea a woman would do that. Of course, all I knew was that:

you touched a girl,
she got wet,
you got hard,
you stuck it in,
thrust until you came. Period.

I truly knew no more than that. I had a lot to learn.

Mrs. Bateman finally finished and smiled at me. She continued to play with my cock.

"What? Did that surprise you, Todd?"

"Yeah; you just;"

"Swallowed your cum," she said matter-of-factly. "Some women like to. Some don't. I assume no one ever did that for you before."

I shook my head.

"Well, I like to. Especially with young guys. Otherwise, you might not last long once we start fucking."

My eyes popped.

"Oh yes! I intend to fuck you, Todd. What do you think about that? I intend to fuck you today, and if you're good enough, all summer long."

She took my hands and pulled me into the pool with her. She kissed me again and again, slowly teaching me to do it right. I squeezed her tits and she guided me to be gentle and allowed me to kiss and suck on them.

See I loved big tits. Always have. My girlfriends had laughed at my infatuation with big knockers, and two of my slutty classmates had let me see and touch them. One had let me kiss and suck a bit. She might have been a C cup at best. These big, beautiful things were amazing! They were huge, soft, round and firm all at the same time. Her areola were large tan ovals and her nipples were thick stubs. I squeezed, kissed, sucked and played with them as she smiled and giggled.

"Boys! Every one of you are titty-crazy! Come sit on the 3^rd step up. I'll sit below you. Now wrap your arms around me and let my tits know how much you like them"

I was giddy with enthusiasm and soon I had her nipples poking out firmly.

" You just can't get enough of my big titties huh? Well go on, enjoy yourself!" She said and laughed, as she leaned back against my chest. But a minute later she spun around to face me, kneeling, and pulled my face to hers and kissed me again. This time she slipped her tongue into my mouth. My last girlfriend had allowed only a few French kisses and this was thrilling. Mrs. Bateman also began to fondle my turgid cock again, and when I was good and stiff, she climbed up the steps from the pool and lay on the padded double chaise lounge. She spread her legs and toyed with her pussy.

I followed and as I mounted her, she took my cock and guided me into her. She was wet and warm and it felt fantastic. She was still holding my rather thick cock and coached me to use short strokes in and out until I could fit deep inside of her.

"Oh god, Todd! That's it; nice and slow. God, you're so big! Oh, that feels so good! Yes, yes; that's it; oh so good, oh so good!"

We fucked nice and slow for a few minutes and then I warned her I was cumming again. She laughed and grabbed my hips and held me deep.

"Go ahead Todd, cum in me! Give it to me!"

I couldn't hold back and came, emptying my load deep inside of her.

"God! Yes! That feels so good!" she moaned.

When I had finished, I pulled out and collapsed onto the chaise. Mrs. Bateman began to play with her pussy and the flood of cum, thrusting her fingers in deep and rubbing it all over her pussy.

"Not bad;" she said. "A nice big cock, lots of cum; but you need training and practice. If you keep quiet about it; this is going to be an amazing summer."

Mrs. Bateman and I had sex again before she sent me home. I was fortunate that my parents were too busy and disinterested to notice my shit-eating grin.

The next day Mrs. Bateman "hired" me to help her with her rental properties. Mom and Dad bought it and thereafter, my daily disappearances were ignored.

I would arrive at her home and we would fuck immediately. This could be in any room of the house or at the pool. We fucked in the living room, bedroom, kitchen, guest rooms, even Rick's room, with the Eagles latest album playing on the stereo.

One day she led me into the garage and I fucked her across the hood of her '73 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. She was wearing a nice skirt and shiny satin blouse, and as we kissed and groped, I found she was wearing no panties and was soaking wet. As I played with her pussy, she opened her blouse and lifted her braless tits out. I bent her over the hood and took her from behind as she shouted encouragement at me. After a bit, she pushed me away and rolled onto her back with her hips on the fender and her legs in the air. As I fucked her, she played with her tits and moaned. When we finished, I had to back the car out and wash it.

Oh and she insisted that I always call her either Mrs. Bateman, Ma'am, or Mistress. Never Olivia or any affectionate nickname. I understand now that it was to keep me from becoming too casual in public. But at the time it was also fun. I would step up behind her in the living room and reach around to cup her huge tits. Nibbling on her neck I would whisper.

"God, Mrs. Bateman you are so sexy! I just can't help myself. I want to fuck you so bad!"

"Oh Todd," she would reply, "if you insist."

She would bend over the sofa and I would lift her skirt and finger her pussy before slipping my cock into her wet folds and snug, warm depths.

"Oh Mrs. Bateman, that feels so good!" I would moan.

"You feel good too Todd. such a big thick cock!"

Then after pumping into her cunt for a while.

"Oh Mrs. Bateman, I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum Mrs. Bateman!"

Sometimes she would let me cum inside her, sometimes she would turn and suck me off. Once she didn't turn fast enough and I sprayed my load all over her face and the front of her dress. I expected her to be angry but she simply smiled.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Bateman!"

"That's okay, it happens," she said as she wiped the cum from her face and sucked on her fingers. "But this dress; come help me change."

This went on almost daily for three full weeks. I was coming home tired and my cock was sore, but I was thrilled. I mean this woman wanted a lot of sex! We were fucking at least three times a day!

I learned to be a good fuck, of course, but more than that, she taught me to be a great kisser, a skilled cunnilinguist, and an attentive lover. I learned foreplay, physical and mental, and to focus on pleasing her, knowing that the journey to her orgasm was fun and pleasing to me and that my own orgasm was always just minutes after hers.

It was thrilling to feel her pussy squeezing my cock as she came. That, coupled with her vocalizations (be they cries of pleasure, squeals of delight, or shouts of ecstasy) always made me cum. And beyond all that, she was paying me cash every Friday to keep up the illusion that I had a legitimate job. I thought I was in heaven.

Man, was I wrong.

Overnighters.

July 1st was on Friday. Mom and Dad had wanted to go on vacation that week and the next. I didn't, of course and Mrs. Bateman came up with the ruse that one of her renters was moving and we had to clean the place, paint, and prep it for the next renter that week.

Mom was upset, but Dad said it was a good experience;

and I was left behind. I wanted to spend the night at her home but figured Mom would call me nightly to check on me. Mrs. Bateman instead came over and spent the night in my bed Thursday night. We made love for what seemed like hours and my bed was soaked. She simply threw a towel over the wetness and went to sleep.

This was the first time in my life that I had a woman sleep with me. I mean she went to sleep in my arms. I discovered that amazing feeling of a soft, sensual body pressed against mine. The next morning I woke up with the typical morning woodie but she wasn't interested until she'd had a chance to wake up and get some coffee. We did fool around elsewhere in the house, even going sixty-nine across my parent's bed. Then she said she had some things to do and told me to come over at four with an overnight bag.

Discrete with Diane.

When I arrived, there was another car in her driveway. A nice cream colored Mercedes 450SLC. A convertible with the heart of a sports car. When I went in, using the side door for appearance sake as she always insisted, I found Mrs. Bateman sitting in the living room with another woman. Mrs. Bateman was in her favorite wing chair, attired in a red skirt and white blouse. She waved me in.

"Ah, here he is," she said. "Todd this is Diane, Diane, Todd," she made the introductions. Diane stood and sized me up. She was tall, in her heels she matched my 5'11". Her hair was blonde and she was a bit more slender than Mrs. Bateman with smaller tits. She was tanned and her sleeveless dress was white with a deep V front and a fully pleated skirt. As she stepped closer I couldn't help but glance at her cleavage.

Diane traced the V with one finger and smiled. The other hand she placed on my cheek. To my surprise she kissed me. A nice deep, long kiss. A second kiss followed and I felt her hand slide down to my crotch where it squeezed my growing cock. As she stepped back, she grinned.

"Oh yes, he'll do nicely."

She kissed me again, this time with more passion. My hands found her waist and slid up her back. I had no idea why this strange woman was doing this but damn, I wasn't going to turn it down.

She broke the kiss and walked away. Picking up her purse and a small bag, she went up the stairs. I watched her long legs in that swishing skirt and stood there grinning. Finally, as she disappeared from view the enchantment was broken.

Mrs. Bateman stood and came over, wrapping her arms around me.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Oh Todd, it's quite simple. You are going to go up to the guest room and fuck her brains out. The same way you fuck me."

"What?"

"Yes, she's waiting to fuck you. So go fuck her. Give her what she wants, any way she wants, for as long as she wants. Be polite and patient and above all, ask no questions!"

"She wants to have sex with me?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, don't look so shocked! Look, if she met you somewhere else and hit on you, suggested having sex, wouldn't you do it?"

"Umm; Well before you started fucking me, yeah. But now that we're fucking.;"

Mrs. Bateman smiled, "And if you want to keep fucking me, you'll go up there and please her, like I know you can. Think of it as practice."

She swatted my ass and pointed to the stairs. "Go."

I knocked on the door but it was slightly ajar. I went in and closed it behind me. Diane was standing at the foot of the bed. With barely a sound, the dress slipped from her shoulders and fell to the floor around her ankles. She paused a moment to let me gaze at her naked body. She was nicely tanned except for the white skin of her bikini area. The stark tan lines were strangely erotic, obviously she tanned in a small string bikini. Her tits were about a C cup and her areola large and round with little pink nipples. Her waist was slim, and her hips round and firm. She was proud of her body and liked showing it off it seemed.

"Your turn," she said.

I stripped and as my growing cock was freed, she grinned broadly. She climbed onto the bed and uncrossed her legs, revealing a pussy covered in short, sandy straight hair.

"I'm told you have a talented tongue; Show me."

I started with kisses on her ankles and slowly moved up each leg to her knees and then up her inner thighs. By the time I reached her pussy she was gasping and breathing rapidly. I could smell her arousal and she was already quite wet, beads of fluid lined her inner lips and she tasted sweet. I did my best to focus on pleasing her as Mrs. Bateman had taught me. Soon her hips were rocking and her hands were squeezing her breasts. A cry of ecstasy and a gush of juices confirmed her orgasm. I lapped up the tasty wetness and looked up at her.

"Oh god!" she panted. "Fuck me, fuck me now!"

I slid my knob against her wet slit and pushed it in. She was so wet it slid in easily. A few thrusts and I was all the way in.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" she panted.

I held it deep and kissed her, then she grabbed my head and stared deep into my eyes.

"Fuck me!"

I started thrusting in and out and she moaned and groaned in pleasure. Soon I rose to my elbows and picked up the pace. Her pussy was making wet squishy sounds and her tits were bouncing. I couldn't last and came, pumping my load in her. She gasped.

"Oh god! Oh god no! Not yet! Don't stop! Oh no!"

I sat up to catch my breath and as I pulled out I could see the cum start to flow out of her pussy. I found it weirdly erotic. Very erotic. Mrs. Bateman usually either played with it, ignored it, or wiped it up with tissues. I'd never actually watched it. I reached down and toyed with it, running my fingers through it and spreading it over her pussy.

Diane was watching too. I spread a glob over her clit and she twitched and gasped. I slipped two fingers inside of her and she moaned. I stroked the inside of her pussy behind her clit and she bit her lip and groaned. I kept it up and she was soon gasping and trembling. She started pinching her nipples as I stroked faster and faster. Cum was everywhere. Then she threw her head back and cried out,

"Oh Fuck! Gah!"

My cock was hard again and I shoved it in, pushing all the way in one, hard, violent thrust.

"Ah! Oh Fuck!" she screamed.

I could feel her pussy spasming around my cock, squeezing and releasing over and over again.

Diane grabbed my hand and placed it over her mouth and screamed again and again. I started thrusting. Slowly pulling out until only my knob was inside then thrusting hard, slamming our bodies together. Each time, she screamed into my hand. I began thrusting faster and she started sucking my cum drenched fingers. Soon I was up on my knees, gripping her legs and pounding her furiously.

Diane was gasping, and moaning, and weeping as she grabbed and pulled on the sheets. I had no idea what I was doing, only that I couldn't stop. I was overcome with desire, and passion, and need. I have no idea how long I fucked like that, but finally felt the release coming and came again. I finished and pulled out, watching again the flow of cum from her reddened pussy.

At some point Diane had stopped being coherent and was limp with her eyes rolled back and simply lay there moaning and humming. I lay next to her and cradled her head. After a minute, her eyes focused on me and she smiled. I kissed her and pushed the hair from her face.

I laid down and she rolled onto her side next to me. She lifted one leg up and ov

Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 3.

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories ) — Sun, 21 Jun 2026 21:46:00 +0000

Emmy, The Class Nudist: Part 3.

Wes and Carson Become Part of the Jackson circle.

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

It's 7am Saturday morning. Carson is staring at his Windows XP screen saver. He's stayed up late, scouring AOL, MySpace, and even the new Facebook websites, looking for any accounts of Emmy's. He downloaded any and all photos he could find, then made a custom screensaver of Emmy's photos.

Carson believes he's the luckiest guy in Texas. He's living every teen boy's wildest fantasy; a pretty teen nudist who's sexually exploring, but still a virgin; for now.

What he can't figure out is; 'Why me?'

Finally, he quits staring at the screensaver of 35 pics of Emmy, and he turns of the CRT monitor, to get back to his studies. Around 10 am Wes stops by and Carson's dad directs Wes to Carson's bedroom.

“I want all the facts, Carson. Tell me what you did with the hottest secret nudist in the county!”

“Yeah, morning. Yeah, not much I can say, Spunky. We studied, then shared a pizza and sodas.”

“Hey, Carson! Its me. Don't give me the class book report. Give me the real status.!”

“Okay, Spunky, I gotta say, I'm sitting here all morning trying to wrap my head around the best thing ever to happen to me.”

“So she's into you? Wes cut in.

“Yeah, I think we're officially a thing, at least among the two of us.”

“Did she get naked again?”

“I think I'll decline to answer that.”

“She did! Oh my god! You friggin hit the jackpot, dude!”

Carson couldn't contain his glee and his grin spread from ear to ear. “Please, Wes. I nearly blew it by being seen with you in the woods, last Wednesday. I'm not going to discuss anything that might be just as bad.”

“Yeah, I'm sure she thinks I's so perverted that she won't ever want you to remain my friend.” Wes lamented.

“Dude, it's the most amazing thing. It's not that she hates you seeing her naked. It's that she wants you to treat her with honor and politeness.”

So when are you going to see her again?

“She's gone back down to Humble, where she grew up. Her friends are graduating, today. I think she and her parents will get home tomorrow. I'm going to try to do all my prep for finals while she's gone. If I know her as we;; as I hope, she's in the back seat of her parent's Escalade, with all her textbooks., making good use of the 8 hours of weekend driving.”

Just then Carson's computer speakers dinged. Then her heard 'You've got mail' and his monitor illuminated.

The screensaver locked up for just a second, frezzing Emmy's close up smile, then the Windows desktop appeared.

“Holy shit, dude! You've got it bad!” Wes chided.

Wes saw the AOL Instant Messenger window It listed username EmiliaJack as a contact. An indicator showed a new message waiting.

He clicked and her message read; “Finally driving into Humble Texas. How's your morning?”

“Holy fucking fuck!” Wes was giddy.

Carson responded fast; “Sitting in my room, trying to do my studying. But Wes just stopped by. We're both here.”

“Hi, Wes! Glad to not see you ;)” Emmy chided him.

“Oh God!” Wes said as he turned red.
“Ha ha! Great line, Emmy. Actually he's upset that I'm not telling him everything about last night's study group.”

“Did you tell him about a possible assignment for next weekend?” Emmy asked.
“Huh?” Wes perked up.
“Not yet. Like I say, he just walked in right before your message dinged me. Why don't you spell it out, now?”

“Uh, sure. Okay, Wes. I have a dear friend whose graduation I'm going to, today. Next Friday she's coming up to stay the long weekend, and be at my graduation celebration. I used to go on double dates with her, and it sure would be fun to do so, again... See where I'm going?”

“Holy. Shit!” Wes blurted. “Can I type, Carson?”

Carson quickly typed; “Wes is going to talk to you, Here he is”

Then Carson got up and Wes sat at his desk chair.

“Uh, Hey Emmy. Wes here. I'm actually stunned and very interested. Why me, of all people?”

“If Carson has been your friend since 1^st grade, that speaks very highly of you. That's how much I respect his good judgment of character.” Emmy explained.

“But after what I did just this week, and I dragged Carson into it? How can you even stand to look at me?” Wes trembled as he typed.

“You accepted correction responsibly, Wes. You're not a bad guy. You're actually one of the better guys in the Lindale class of 2005.”

“That's an incredibly kind thing to say, and I want to deserve it, and live up to it.” What can I do for you?” Wes typed.

“Penny Martin is my best friend. We share the same values and lifestyle. Yes, that means what you hope it means. She just split with her boyfriend and is feeling a bit melancholy. I told her we need to do an old-fashion double date, together. I told her to trust me to have a great guy, eager to make sure she does.”

Wes jumped up from the chair and screamed' “Yes! Yes! Thank You Jesus!”

Carson sat back down and typed; “This is Carson. Wes is busy jumping on the bed and singing praises to God for his undeserved blessings.”

“LOL” Emmy replied.

“ROFLOL” Carson agreed.

Emmy elaborated; “I know we all have our own families getting together. But sometime before She leaves on Memorial Day, the 30^th, We will do something, okay? Penny's staying at my house the whole weekend.”

“Sounds like a plan” Carson confirmed. Wes was finally completely winded and resumed his seat at the foot of Carson's bed.

“I gotta go, we're at the high school football field now, and the seats are filling up.”
“Okay, looking forward to your safe return, Emmy.”

“Keep studying, Carson. Distraction happen.” And with that the conversation ended.

“Crap,” Wes said. “I wish I had a phone with AIM on it.”

“I wish I could afford the data charges” Carson concurred.

Champ's Last Battle.

Wes left and Carson spend most of the Saturday fully reviewing the entire list of subjects he was expecting to be tested on.

On Sunday morning, Wes called at about 9am. “Hey Carson. Wes here. I'm terrified that Champ is missing. Can you maybe come help me look for him?”

“Sure. I'll tell mom and Dad, and grab some breakfast. Expect me in about 35 minutes, okay?”

“Thanks” Wes said with a trembling voice.

Carson called Wes's cell as he drove in the driveway. Wes said he's going to wait at the pond for him to get there, then sweep the back 80 acres.

The two guys spread about 100 feet apart and walked along. Occasionally they yelled; “Champ!” But with no reply. Often the stopped to listen for wimpers or distant barking. Nothing.

They approached Wes's big tree stand, where he hunted deer and placed salt blocks and corn grain. Nothing. They climbed up onto the big 8 by 8 decking, and looked everywhere. Nothing. Got down and continued as far as the fence line, where a peanut field was recently planted. Then they moved laterally and reversed direction. Sweeping back near where the Jackson home was. As Carson approached, they saw scattered blood, Calling Wes over, he moved on. Soon fur could be seen in the blood. It was the color of the Gold Lab, Champ.

Then Wes collapsed to the ground; “No!” he screamed, Carson saw where he was looking. It was a bloody mess. Champs mutilated body was laying in the woods, just 120 feet from Emmy's backyard pool.

Carson went to Wes's side and put his arm around his shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Wes.”

Wes bawled with all the agony of a grieving young man who lost his closest, most loyal friend. Once he reached a point of no more energy to wail, he got off the leaf-covered forest soil and walked over to where Champs mangled head laid, discarded.
Carson approached again; “Wes, Take this time to tell Champ what you're feeling. Stay here, while I inspect the scene.”

Wes wimpered and nodded.

Carson walked in a circle around the bloody mess. Each full circle was followed by another at a 20 foot wider circumference. After 4 circles he returned to Wes. As he came near, Wes was telling Champ a story from several memorable adventures that the boy and his dog had lived, together.

Carson sat on the ground, about 20 feet away resting his back against a tree trunk. He listened to maybe three more stories. Then Wes turned to Carson, and waited to hear what Carson had to say.

“Wes, Champ killed a massive Razerback, but died in the battle. I don't know where that monster came from, but this is the last forest that beast will terrorize, thanks to Champ. That razorback's corpse is just on the other side of that scrub brush with a huge dog bite in his throat. I'm guessing the monster blood out slower than Champ, But he's just as dead, now.”

“Wow!” Wes surmised. If a hero is going to die, the most noble death is while slaying a dragon.”

“Well said,” Carson commended his best friend. “We need to get a hold of the Jacksons. Their place is going to stink bad if we don't have a burial real soon. “

Carson called Emmy and told her, first. He'd taken several pics of the gory site and told Emmy he'd email them when he got home.

“Let me talk to my folks. Can you say there for a bit, and We'll call you back?” Emmy arranged.

In Business With Doug Jackson.

In a few minutes, Emmy's dad called; “Carson, It's Doug Jackson. We're so sorry to hear of the loss. Wes had a great dog. The Lab came by several times last fall, when we were at the construction site. Dog's like Champ are, well ; the best friend a guy like Wes can have.”
Carson had hit the speakerphone button and Wes heard most of that. Wes teared up again, hearing a stranger's tribute to his faithful dog.

“So the woods are a carcass-strewn mess, and nothing stinks like rotting pig.” Doug redirected the discussion. “Do you know anyone who can handle a skid-steer, backhoe, and ATV?”
“I'm fairly competent on all three;” Wes volunteered.
“Wes, is that you;” Doug said, upon hearing a different voice.
“Yes sir.”

“Oh, Wes; I hope my words weren't too stressful for you to hear?” Doug inquired.
“It was the kindest eulogy I could hope for, sir.”

“I'm sorry I haven't come by to pay your family a visit, Wes. I kept meaning to, since we're neighbors, according to Emmy. But listen, I've seen you a few times. You look like an able fella. I'm going to have my site supervisor haul some heavy equipment out to the place on a fifth wheel trailer. I'd love to hire someone to give both animals a proper burial as soon as possible. The decay will stink by tomorrow. We have a beg graduation event next weekend and I'm willing to pay overtime wages if you're available, today?
“Uh, I think I need to do it, sir. For Champ.”

Doug spelled out the terms completed the call.

Carson took Wes and they walked back through the woods, back to Carson's house. They relived the grieving stages when retelling Wes's parents and siblings. Carson was busy frying up eggs and bacon, then the boys ate a full meal.

Doug called back while they ate, informing them the equipment will be in the driveway at 12:30pm.

Carson and Wes were there to meet the diver and get briefed on proper operations, then too then keys.

Driving around the furthest perimeter, they approached the bloody scene with the backhoe and skid steer. Wes dug a separate grave for Champ, under a nearby beautiful tall pine tree. Carson scraped up the ground anywhere he saw signs of Champ's dissected body parts. Meanwhile Wes dug a bigger grave hole for the monster. There's no way Wes would desecrate Champs grave with such an evil creature.

Carson was still finishing smooth the grave over Champs buried body when Wes had the bigger second hole prepared. As Carson's skid-steer crawled toward the backhoe, he saw Wes using the bucket to take out his rage on the big black devil. As Wes saw Carson approach his trance was broken and he made one large sweep, scooping the razorback and tumbling the corpse into the big grave. Then he retreated the backhoe and retraced his rout around the property, to avoid harming the fresh new sod. Back at the drive, he parked on the gravel side shoulder, then pulled out a garden hose and sprayed the equipment clean.

Carson arrived in the skid-steer while the backhoe was getting washed. Within 10 minutes the job was done. They called Doug and reported on the completion. Doug told Wes he'd come buy to get the keys at his place, plus apologize for a terrible disrespect in not coming by sooner.

Carson and Emmy returned to their books in prep for the college-level exams in the days ahead.

Hogs Get Harvested.

When Mr. Doug Jackson finished unpacking from the trip, he and Donna arrived at the Hernandez home, They came with a sympathy card and a pie, which they'd picked up at a Tyler supermarket.
The Hernandez family was gracious even in their grief.

Doug turned to topic to the growing feral pig problem. He drew some diagrams of some traps he knew worked well in the coastal areas, down near Houston. Doug, Wes, and Mr Hernandez discussed a strategy for eradicating the hogs.
Finally, Doug turned to Wes. Handing him and envelop, he said; “Here's the fee we agreed upon. I walked through the area while the girls unloaded. You guys did a professional job without ripping up my lawn. I threw in an extra $100 each for you and Carson.”
Wes thanked him and said it was a great honor to get to bury Champ, himself.
“Now I want to talk about another possible venture. Can I contract with you, to implement this hog eradication plan?”

“I'm listening.” Wes looked Doug in the eye.
“Okay, I'll list the steps as I comprehend them. Jump in if I miss something.
One. We get an ATV, with a flatbed, and a power T-post driver.

Two. We haul Hog fencing, T-posts, and feed corn out to certain selected sites where we want to trap hogs. The Coral traps are the lowest maintenance and most proven design. I want to try that first.
Three. we install the circular, spring-gate corals, and set the bait.

Four. Each morning, you check all the corals, with your firearm. Any trapped ferals are shot and left til after school's done.

Five. After school, you come back and drag out the dead pigs and take a photo of the kill, then bury them before nightfall.
I will pay you and your construction team an hourly rate to erect the corals. You pick the team wisely.

I will pay a set price for each hog, and a bonus for expediency. The first five in a week gets you a set rate. The next five, in addition to the first five, gets you an even higher rate.
I'm asking you to work yourself out of a job. And if you're a productive worker, you'll never lack for a good-paying job.”

Wes nodded and said nothing.

“Did I miss anything?” Doug looked at Wes, then his father.
“Mr. Hernandez added; “Mr. Jackson. What you are proposing to do, is a great service to this part of the county. If your work is backed up with follow-through, you will be a popular man, and a leading candidate for County Commissioner.”
Doug chuckled. “Neighbor, My daughter speaks well of your son and his friend, Carson. I suspect that's because the boys come from good families and proper up-bringing. I think you and I are both contributing what God has blessed us with.”

That brought a smile to Mr. Hernandez and he stood and shook Doug's hand. “I will leave you and Wes to negotiate the rates and finish up. It is an honor to meet your, Mr. Jackson. And an even bigger honor to be your good neighbor.”

The next day, Monday, Wes left school and stopped by the wireless store to pick up the business phone that Doug had included on the deal. Then he arrived home in time to haul the posts, fence panels, and other equipment out to the two best sites he'd picked. He drove a center stake and with a string he walked a circle, using orange spraypaint to mark a layout. Then he measure the spots to set T-posts and lastly he fired up the power drive, to drive the 8 foot posts down 3 feet. The next morning, his dad helped him fasten the first corral. They decided to spread seed corn outside the spring-gate, and more in the middle of the coral.

They headed into town for dad's job and Wes's classes. It was Tuesday, after classes, when Wes saw his first 3 trapped hogs.
He executed them and came back with the backhoe. He spent the next 3 hours digging a long enough trench grave to handle 100 hog burials. Having another hour of daylight, He went to the other site and dug that trench grave even though that coral was not yet erected.

On Wednesday morning, the 2^nd coral was made operational. Now the heavy work was done. He kept the skid-steer and ATV machines, but had the backhoe returned to the company.

By Thursday morning they realized the biggest hogs were jumping the 60 inch high fence. He was eradicating most of the ferals, but He's have to hunt the big trophy hogs the old fashion way.

He was now spending an hour each morning, and another hour each evening. He was making more weekly income as a contract trapper, than any of his classmates were earning in retail.

Beuller Day.

Wes was not trying to be like Emmy and Carson, at school. Wes took practical classes and had no problem attaining a 3 point 4 GPA.

Carson and Emmy had GPA numbers above 4 point 1. But they all were wise enough to know character is not an intellectual pursuit. The best friends are the ones with integrity, regardless of intelligence. Thursday was the last day of classes, for the seniors. That's when all the test scores came back. Emmy and Carson were ready for a much-deserved time of unwine ding.

Last Friday they talked about a Monday date night. But it made more sense to Make the Bueller Day event their best plan for the official first date. That left them better prepared for Finals and achieving their best legacy in academics.
Thursday night, Carson had dinner with the Jacksons. It was a very relaxed and fun time. After helping pick up the table, Emmy and Carson went to the drive-in movie. The movie didn't start til about 9pm, but all the senors were doing various tailgate party games.
Carson parked the car near the back, then he and Emmy walked down front where Frisbees and footballs were being tossed. A sand volleyball court was full of several classmates.

Carson and Emmy soon became the buzz of the gossip girls. The class of 2005 latest couple, were two brainiacs who had no past dating history. The couple held hands and visited several happy classmates.

Janet Holmann finally came up to Carson and said; “You know, Carson, most people don't wait til the end of high school, to get a high school sweetheart.”
“Oh,” Carson contemplated. “Then I guess Emmy and I aren't most people.” he added with a smile.
Just then Tom Bierman's back hatch opened up and his stereo cranked out; 'School's Out For Summer, ' by Alice Cooper. A flash mob of seniors gathered around and danced with abandon as they celebrated the biggest shared achievement of their lives.

The song ended and Pink Floyd's Brick in the Wall serenaded the dancing seniors.

Wes showed up just then, and Emmy went over to give him a big hug. “I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Wes. Dad tells me you're teaming up with him to protect the township?”

“Hi, Emmy. Your dad's being too modest. Truth is, he's paying me to exact revenge of the whole village of feral hogs.”

“Well, I want to thank you for cleaning up my back yard. You are coming to my place tomorrow? I have a friend who's hoping so?”
“Yes, I'll be there. And this time I'll come from the front, not the back.

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Recruited.

Cap & Gown.

Higher Ed.

School Work.

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 2

Chloe Goes Bat-Shit Crazy, then resorts to stalking.

The Hunt For Her David.

A Sighting.

Reunited.

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 1

How Chloe Finally Got Some: Part 1

What does a hot girl have to do, to get some loving?

First Attempt.

Second Attempt.

Third Attempt.

Fourth Attempt.

Fifth Attempt.

Scholarly Dames

Scholarly Dames

Two stories of scholarly lasses with healthy libidos.

Stimulating Reading

Sexual adventures amid the bookshelves.

Cleverness is Sexy

Winning a quiz transformed Alice from swot to hot.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 3.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 3.

Variations, before the church girls return to Father.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 2.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 2.

The young sisters take it further with the summer help.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 1.

Helping the Karlssons: Part 1.

Church-going sisters approach the new help at the shop.

The Gullible Neighbor: Part 2.