Virgin Tryst

The Virgo Constellation Shift: part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Fri, 22 May 2026 02:28:00 +0000

The Virgo Constellation: Part 3

Virgo invites classmate over, to pursue a more honorable deflowering.

By Millsy for Literotica Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

"Why is there a dice on your telly?"

"Oh, no reason,” I winked at her.

She plucked it off the top of the TV and threw it onto the bed. Up rolled the 6.

"Want to try again,” I asked.

"Where's the prize list. What do I get for a 6,” She smiled, setting her wine glass down and laying back on the bed.

"There isn't one. What do you say, three each. I do the odds, you do the evens?"

"Pen?"

I wrote mine down and put the paper upside down on the dresser. I'd gone for a gentle break-in. 1 was a three minute snog, 3 was a tit sucking, and 5 was a full strip down to nothing. Basically it was nothing that she hadn't already done. I had no idea what she'd written down for the evens, and she laid her piece of paper down on top of mine. "Who goes first,” She asked.

"You do. And if you don't want to do it you can back out at any time. No pressure,” I assured her. I placed the dice in the palm of her hand. "Roll it, baby."

It came up a 4.

"Hmmm.. that's one of mine,” She smiled, turning over her piece of paper and folding it so that I could read only what she had written for 4.

"Undress your partner?"

"That means you. I get to undress you, totally. Stand up,” She commanded me. Somewhat hesitantly I obeyed; then she gently kissed me on the lips as her hands deftly worked at my belt buckle.

"What about you,” I asked as she pulled my shirt up out of my jeans and began to unbutton it.

"Well, you've already seen me in the nude, and more, so if you don't roll a 4 it gets to be my turn to see you naked and there's nothing you can do about it. Unless you want to chicken out now,” She added as she slid her hands up my exposed chest and slipped the shirt off my shoulders. Of course, she didn't know that a 5 would see her stark naked as well, but with that she'd have to undress herself. In moments my shirt was on the floor, and her tongue traced lightly across my chest as she sank down onto her knees, my crotch at eye level as she popped the button on my jeans and unzipped me slowly. I gulped, and I looked out my bedroom window and across the main road, suddenly aware that my curtains were open and there was a possibility that we were being watched.

"I'll close the curtains,” I said as she undid the laces of my trainers.

"No! Leave them,” She said as she inched my trousers down, my hardening cock straining in my boxer shorts. If it got any harder it would be peeking out the top, and she'd be able to see it in a moment. My jeans fell around my knees, and I stumbled onto the bed after a gentle nudge from her that enabled her to then throw my trainers and my socks across the room. "Stand up again,” She said, still on her knees in front of me, my penis now stretching my boxers damn near to breaking point. "Almost there,” She murmured, licking her dry lips as both hands began to ease the elasticated waistband of my shorts down. My cock was pulled about inside as she eased them down, bent into an uncomfortable angle as her hands tugged my shorts down off my hips, then she moved both hands into light contact with my cock through the thin fabric of my shirts and peeled the cloth over the head of my shaft, exposing me. After that my shorts were on the floor around my ankles, then on the window sill, and she kneeled before me, my cock almost in her face.

"Now that's a good looking dick,” She murmured.

"Seen a lot,” I wondered aloud.

"Internet access” she admitted. “Only good for stealing music and hardcore porn,” She laughed, and I felt her cool, minty breath wash over my prick, making it jerk involuntarily. Would she touch it? Would she kiss it, suck it, wank it into her mouth? I mused as I looked down at her and she looked back up at me in blazing, lustful eye contact. I felt her hand on my thigh, moving upward, then her fingers touched mine and pressed the dice into my hand.

I rolled a 1, and showed her my list. She stood up in front of me and we snogged hard, my naked cock rubbing against her jeans as her hands roamed all over my body in the clinch, grabbing at my naked ass, pinching my nipples, her tongue next to frantic as it explored my mouth and my hands were inside her sweater, squeezing her tits through her bra as we moaned into each other’s mouths. She avoided touching my cock with her fingers as it stood erect, trapped between us, but still I could feel the juices building up in my balls from the arousal that she was driving me to. I broke away and she picked up the dice from the bed.

She rolled a 2, which was also a snog, and lay down on the bed, beckoning me on top of her. I covered her body with mine and latched my lips onto her face again, and this time her fingernails were digging into my ass as I lay on top of her, pulling the cheeks of my butt apart as she writhed beneath me, my cock pressing down against the V of her crotch. I groaned as her fingers traversed the crack of my ass, grinding my hips against her in a dry hump that also brought a few moans from her own mouth that were smothered by my tongue. The next roll was another 4 and I went to work as she lay on the bed.

I straddled her now, my cock standing up, pointing skyward as I pulled her sweater up her body to expose her black bra. My balls pressed the pale flesh of her belly as I pulled the sweater over her arms and stared down at the double delights that would soon be unfettered. I slid down her body, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, then I eased them down over her hips. She lifted her ass off the bed to assist me, and soon her black jeans were just a dark pile on the floor on top of her shoes. Now I knelt between her legs, gazing down at her pale skin that was offset by the black bra and knickers that were all she was now dressed in.

"Roll over,” I told her. As soon as she had done so, and now lay on her belly, I climbed back on top of her, straddling her ass. I pressed my erection down into the crack between her butt cheeks and leaned forward, kissing her on the shoulders as my fingers unclasped her bra strap. She heaved herself up onto her elbows and the bra fell onto the bed, her big tits hanging down. My hands instinctively moved underneath and cupped them both, but she moaned 'no touching' at me half-heartedly, so I released them and instead ran my tongue down along her spine to the small of the back as my attention moved to the final barrier that stood between both of us being naked.

I eased her knickers slowly down, exposing inch after tantalizing inch of her flesh, until my tongue was running down the backs of her thighs, eliciting a shudder as it slithered behind her knees, then down to her feet. Her knickers were the latest addition to the small pile of clothes on the floor as I moved back up her body and lay beside her. She turned her face to me and smiled. "Dice?"

She rolled a 5, which was wasted, so handed the dice to me. "Should we make another list?"

"You haven't had the six yet,” She reminded me. And I haven't had the three."

"Put them on the new list? Or we could just let things go their natural course."

"We'd end up fucking inside five minutes,” She laughed.

"Would that be so bad,” I wondered aloud.

"We've got all night,” She reminded me. "Odds and evens again, you write what you would like to do to me, and I'll write what I want to do to you."

"Just as a matter of interest,” I asked as I handed her the pen. "What was number 6?"

"It'll be number 2 on the new list,” She winked.

I wrote my choices down. 1 for a titsuck, 3 for a fingerfuck, 5 for pussy eating session. I set the list on the bedside cabinet and put hers on top of it, just about resisting the urge to take a peek. "Whose turn to roll,” I asked.

"Mine,” She said, and threw the dice at the headboard. It bounced back before us to show a 3.

"Lucky you,” I murmured. "You now have to put up with me finger-fucking you until you come, unless you want to back out?"

"Back out? Why the fuck would I want to do that,” She laughed and reached for my hand as she opened her legs into a triangular configuration as she lay on her side, facing me. I glanced down at the exposed triangle of dark black hair. When I looked back up at her face she was staring at me, her pupils slightly dilated perhaps by the wine, and I felt her fingers close over mine. She guided my hand between her legs, closing her eyes as she pressed my fingers against her damp slit. I leaned forward and parted her lips with mine, sliding my tongue into her mouth as my hand became familiar with the form of her warm, wet cunt, tracing up and down the blood engorged labia as the invisible hole slowly expanded until my fingertip was running up and down between the twin wings of her sex, which had somehow split to welcome my finger inside.

Her tongue froze in my mouth as the tip of my finger broke past the initial resistance of her pussy's opening, and she arched her back, tearing her mouth from mine as I eased my finger in to the knuckle joint. " Ah;" she moaned as I kissed her throat, and I pressed myself closer to her, her hard nipples touching my chest as I began to masturbate her slowly, gently, driving the digit in until my palm butted up against her perineum and then wiggling it inside her. "Fuck,” She gasped. "You do that better than I do!"

I bent my head down and kissed between her boobs, and she immediately put her hands under one of her tits and steered the nipple to my mouth. I didn't need asking twice, and latched my lips over the bud hungrily as the movements of my finger speeded up. "Oh;" she groaned. "Faster. Faster,” and she wrapped my hair in her fingers and clutched me to her breast. I did as she asked, suckling on first one nipple and then the other, and her legs were beginning to scissor around my hand as I worked on making her come. "Two fingers,” She urged. "Oh, fuck..."

My second finger slid in easily alongside the first, and I dug them into her soaking hole with no regard for her comfort. This was turning into a proper finger-fucking, not just a heavy petting session. I bit on her tits, making her cry out load, and she began fucking my hand, her pelvis movements answering those of my palm as it slapped wetly against the V between her legs.

"Oh God! Ahh,” She groaned as she climaxed, her tits thrusting into my mouth one last time, her cunt muscles clamping and releasing my two fingers as their motion slowed to a stop, still buried all the way inside her spasming pussy. My cock was now aching terribly. It had been hard for at least half an hour. It took all my self-control to stop myself from rolling her onto her back and mounting her right there and then. Her eyes slowly opened as I kissed her lightly on the nose, my fingers sliding out of her slick hole. In the slowly gathering darkness I brought my glistening fingers up to my face and tasted her juices. "I never imagined how good having somebody else finger me could be,” She sighed as she returned to her senses. "Better than doing it to myself. Much better."

I found the dice and rolled it before she could object, and this time it was my turn to laugh. "Hm Um,” she sighed gutturally. "What's 5?"

I kissed her on the belly as I moved down, making her squirm, and she soon realized what I was up to when my tongue traced down from her belly button to the fringes of her pubic hair. I brought my still wet fingers back down to her shining, dew speckled hole and used them to pull her pussy open. "Oh,” she exclaimed, and she raised her knees and spread her legs, rolling over onto her back.

"Remind me to never play strip poker with you. I wouldn't stand a chance against a bitch with your luck,” I complained, then I dipped my face into her thighs, tongue searching for the hole. She shuddered as it found it's target, my fingers still holding her wide open, and both her hands grabbed wildly at my hair. She was still tender down there from the fingering, but soon she was thrusting her hips at my mouth and tongue as I swept it over her cunt, inside and out, and my tongue wriggled inside her, teasing her clitoris mercilessly as her feet rubbed up and down my back. "Oh yes,” she moaned. "Don't stop. That's it. Oh,” My hands slid up her belly to her tits, squeezing them and pinching at the hard nipples.

Her second climax hit her like a freight train. She cried out loud and I momentarily panicked at the thought of my parents bursting through the door wondering what was going on and finding me with my face buried between Rebecca's legs, her hands tangled in my hair, her hips humping my chin wildly, and my hands fondling her tits.

I moved away from her as she shook and quivered with her second orgasm, then I held her close as her breathing stabilized, her leg hooked over my waist as I moved my cock into position ready to fuck her. The hot wetness of her cunt burned against my balls as she rubbed her pussy against my hard-on. A little movement down and to the left and I would be inside her, I knew, and nothing she could do would stop me. After coming twice in the space of a few minutes she was in no fit state to fight me off even if she wanted to. The way her pussy rubbed my cock as her thigh slid up and down my leg assured me that she was ready to be fucked, that this was the time, that if I now slipped my cock inside her she'd be well on the way to a third orgasm within moments. The head of my cock found itself at the tight entrance to her cunt, and all it now needed was one little push, one brief, sharp thrust of the hips and she'd be impaled.

"Easy, tiger,” She breathed. "You haven't scored a 6 yet."

I laughed and rolled over onto my back, and she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "More wine,” I asked, as I extricated myself from her grasp and clinked the half empty bottle against her glass.

"Yes, please. Trying to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me,” She giggled as she lifted the glass to her lips and knocked half of it down in one go. I knocked half of mine back to match her, then stood up and moved to the work desk for some lemonade to top it up again. "My God, look at that poor thing,” She murmured.

The Virgo Constellation Shifts: part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Thu, 21 May 2026 02:28:00 +0000

The Virgo Constellation: Part 2

Virgo’s desired damsel gives a surprise ‘window-cam’ private performance for him.

By Millsy for Literotica Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

We snogged on her doorstep again, and when she disappeared inside I ran home, straight back up to the loft, and trained the telescope on her bedroom window. Tonight she stood in front of the computer desk with the bedroom light on, facing the window, and unbuttoned her blouse, peeling it off her shoulders in one smooth shrug and allowing it to drop to the floor behind her. She was standing there in jeans and her straining white bra, and I unzipped my trousers and awkwardly pulled out my stiff and aching cock as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra.

I saw her big tits full frontal then for the first time, and I watched rapt as her hands cupped them, thumbs stroking the still hard nipples in exactly the way that I had wanted to touch her just moments before as she closed her eyes and licked her lips. Did she know, I wondered, that I was watching her? Was this a show? Had she twigged that the second loft window, the one that I hadn't let her look through in the telescope gave me an unobstructed view of her window? Or was she just doing what she liked to do, touching herself up after she was turned on, whether by the strangers on the internet or by what we had done tonight, and had simply forgotten to close her blinds?

Did it matter, I asked myself as my hard cock jerked again at the sight of her unbuttoning her jeans, unzipping them, easing them down past her hips, her panties inadvertently coming down her legs with them. The triangle of her pubic mound stared me in the face, then disappeared as she bent forward, eclipsed for several seconds by her hanging tits as she stepped out of her jeans. I swallowed as she stood again, now totally naked, and she threw her long black hair back over her head and put one foot up on the foot of the bed. I watched her hand slide between her legs and hug her crotch, watched it move up and down as she rubbed herself, watched her pinching her teats with her other hand as she closed her eyes and fantasized about fucking me. Did she know I was here with my cock in my hand, wanking slowly? Did she know that we were right at that moment doing exactly what she did with her internet lovers, that I could see her the through the telescope the way that she could see the webcam cocks that had gotten her off so often in the past?

Then she turned and touched the keyboard of her PC, and the monitor sprang to life. She sat down still naked at the desk and typed away. My laptop burbled a warning of an incoming message.

"What are you doing,” called the screen.

"Thinking about you,” I replied.

"That's sweet,” She responded. "Are you busy tomorrow night?"

"Nothing planned,” I fired back.

"Come over at eight?"

"Love to. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course,” Rebecca replied.

"Can you send me a photo of you?"

She lolled a reply, asking me if I'd forgotten what she looked like already, then I watched her browse through a folder before forwarding me a small 100k jpeg. When I opened it I saw a picture that she'd obviously taken with her mobile by simply holding it out in front of her and guessing. It was skewed and grainy, but the more I saw of her the better looking she seemed to be getting.

"I like that one,” I thanked her.

"I chose one of the better ones. I don't seem to be very photogenic, to be honest. Then she warned; “Now, no jerking off over it. I know what you boys are like."

In a way I was shocked at the way she just blurted that out, but one thing I was learning about Rebecca was that she had a very mischievous sense of humor and wasn't afraid to use either innuendo or overt and frank sexual language.

"Well I'm completely flabbergasted at your tone,” I sent back. "As if I would do something like that? Bloody good idea, by the way. See you on the bus."

"Good night,” Came back, then we both shut down our screens more or less simultaneously. I watched her for a while longer as she sat naked at her desk, exploring the drawer. After a moment out came a shocking pink colored tube that it took me a few seconds to recognize as a vibrator. She slipped it into her mouth and turned out the light."

"No,” I silently screamed, denied the delicious sight of her spearing her pussy with that sex toy, then my cum sprayed all over the floor, catching me completely by surprise.

I was late again for the bus, but this time when I boarded there was a youngster sitting next to her. I put my bag on a seat that a friend had kept for me, then I quickly moved back down the bus before the driver pulled away from the bus stop. I leaned over the third former sitting next to Rebecca and kissed her hard on the mouth for a full five seconds before winking and returning to my seat before the driver yelled at me again. I left her red faced, while some of the younger kids whooped and laughed. I did it purely because I didn't want her to think that I was keeping our relationship secret. I didn't care who knew I was seeing her, though I had no way of knowing at the time that this act would see me suspended from school in the lunch break.

"Morning,” I grinned at my mate Steve.

"What the fuck was that,” He asked. "You and Rebecca Lewis?"

"And why the fuck not,” I said, still grinning.

"What-the-fuckever, dude,” Steve shrugged. "Didn't think she was your type."

"What is my type?"

"Dunno, just thought you went for more skinny girls than her. Girls more like your size. You usually do when we're out."

"And where exactly has that gotten me in the last, oh, three years?"

"Hey, I'm not judging, man. If that's how it is then you go for it and don't listen to what anybody else says,” Steve went defensive.

Mark, another friend, leaned across the aisle and said with a wink; "Ignore him, he's just jealous. As he should be. He hasn't snogged a girl since his great aunt Mildred on his twelfth birthday."

"Fuck you,” Steve gave him the finger as the rest of us laughed.

The incident that triggered the suspension happened in lunch break when another sixth former caught up with me while I was sat in the dining hall by myself minding my own business with a paperback. I knew the guy, he was lower sixth, fresh in, and a bit of an asshole. Bigger than me, as were most people near my age, and uglier. Which is saying something, believe me.

"Becky Lewis,” He asked.

"No, my name's Chris,” I deadpanned. "And it's none of your business.”

"No need to be a twat. I'm doing you a favor."

"Oh?"

"She's used. Been fucked before. I've had her,” He said, leaning in closer. "Just thought you should know."

"So? What makes you think I give a shit,” I stood up, fists clenching at my sides. People were watching now, heads turned by the beginnings of a commotion. "It's still none of your fucking business, so piss off. Who's being the twat now? Just because you say you had her first you have to show off to everybody who she goes out with in the future? What a fucking loser you are. What did she do, dump you because you were crap between the sheets and now you're carrying a grudge? Grow the fuck up, you pathetic jackass,” I didn't realise my voice was getting louder, but I saw the punch coming a mile away when his right shoulder bulged. I stepped inside and head butted him full in the face. Fuck it hurt. But he was on the floor with blood streaming down his face from his nose while a chorus of 'Oh's sounded throughout the hall.

"Don't bother getting up,” I spat at him as I walked away. "I'll just put you back down again. Count yourself lucky I don't fucking piss on you."

Needless to say I was in the head teacher's office before lessons began and my mother was picking me up in the car before two. "Don't worry about it,” she said after I'd explained everything. They won't keep you out for long. They know you are an easy four A-levels for their league table. You'll be back in on Monday,” And that was it. I expected a huge bawling out over ruining my chances of going to university, but all my father did was laugh himself silly at the big purple and yellow bruise growing on my forehead and making me look like one of Star Trek's Klingons.

At eight I turned up on Rebecca's doorstep and she was furious.

"So what the hell happened in school today?"

"That jerk was dissing you, so I put him on the floor. No big deal,” I shrugged as I stood out in the drizzle. "Are you going to let me in or are we going out?"

"You got suspended over me? Jesus, you're even dumber than I thought you were,” She shook her head. "Get inside before I change my mind."

She closed the door behind me and led me into the lounge. "So what the hell happened between you and Clive?"

"Clive? That's his name? He just came up to me and started bragging that he'd slept with you. Then when I gave him a bit of verbal back he took a swing at me, missed, and I Glasgow-kissed him on the nose with my head. No big deal."

"It is a fucking big deal when you get yourself suspended. Jesus. Why the fuck didn't you just ignore him?"

"He didn't look like he wanted to be ignored. Honestly, I think he still fancies you and was trying to put me off by talking shit about you."

"And?"

"Well, I'm here aren't I?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "He never slept with me,” She explained, slumping down on the sofa. I sat opposite her in an armchair. "We just fucked once, that's all."

That was a bit of a hammer to the balls, I must admit. Obviously you can't go through life thinking every girl you meet is going to be a virgin when she falls into your arms, but I had always thought that my first time would at least be with another virgin. "Look,” she carried on. "I hope you don't think that I've been mummy's little angel all my life, because I haven't. A couple of years ago I ended up getting mixed up in the wrong crowd with a friend who dragged me along because I had money for booze. We did a little drinking, got a little crazy, one thing led to another and before I knew it was all over and I was walking home crying all alone. It wasn't how I wanted my first time to be, it wasn't how any girl would want her first time to be, but sometimes shit happens."

"There's no need to explain. It's not important."

"Yes it is,” she interrupted.

"Not to me."

"Well, it is to me. Look, I don't know how long we're going to last. We might not even make it through the next hour, but I don't want there to be any secrets, so that if some shithead like Clive starts telling tales you'll at least know the truth from the bull, ok?"

"Fair enough,” I accepted, and leaned forward to listen to her.

"About two years ago, after I'd moved up from lower band to upper band, I was losing all my friends and had no new ones to replace them. Nobody wanted to know me because all the clever girls assumed I was still thick. It's why I've put on weight - I stopped going out altogether and spent almost all my time studying and playing games on the web,” I almost asked her what sort of games, but didn't think that this was the right time for that. "I got lazy, and comfort ate. I'm working my way out of it, but it's not easy. There was one girl that I used to bother with when I visited my grandmother, and while my gran was looking after me overnight when my parents went away for the weekend I went to a small house party with this girl and some of her friends. There were about a dozen of us - five girls, seven or eight boys, and there was booze. Some of us got tipsy, some of us got drunk. Then my friend said it was time to play dice and would I play. When I asked her how to play, she told me.

"Each of us took a number - one to six for boys, and one to six for girls. Then there was a list of 'tasks' for the third roll of the dice. The first roll and second roll paired a girl up with a boy, and the third was for what they then did with each other. I said no at first, but when they started playing I ended up watching and after a while the drink sort of took over and I offered to be number five for the girls. The tasks weren't all that big a deal, except for the six. Handjobs, fingerfucks, blowjobs, all that kind of stuff. I gotta admit that I got pretty turned on watching these impromptu couples making out. Anyway, the dice rolled and sooner or later my number came up. Then the dice rolled again and Clive's number came up. And the bastard groaned. I always hated him for that, and that was when I weighed more than a stone less than I do now. On the third roll came the six, and that's when they all started chanting 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!'

"Like I said, I was pretty blasted, and before I knew it I ended up on the floor with my skirt pulled up over my waist and Clive just did me. It's still all a blur in my mind. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't raped and I don't have nightmares about it. I went into that dice game with eyes wide open and ful

The Virgo Constellation Shift: part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Wed, 20 May 2026 02:28:00 +0000

The Virgo Constellation: Part 1

Astronomy geek turns voyeur, and discovers a busty classmate’s bedroom window.

By Millsy for Literotica Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I lived at the top end of the village, my bedroom overlooking the main road and, of all things, a cemetery across the other side. Beyond that was the mountain that separated our valley from the next one across, so you'd think this was not exactly the ideal domain for somebody who held an unhealthy interest in space and astronomy while he was growing up. What we did have, though, was a loft conversion with two large windows - one on each side - that tilted open so you had a clear and unobstructed view of most of the night sky from inside the house. While most people had to put their stargazing telescopes outside in the garden, mine was up there in the loft warm and dry all year round.

It was a nice 'scope with a 250x magnification. What that means is that something five hundred feet away would seem almost within touching reach of you as you gazed at it. I don't know how much it cost - 300, 400 maybe - as it was part of a long stream of space related Christmas presents that spanned several years from when I was 8 or 9 years old to the time that this tale relates to, when I was a nineteen year old getting ready to graduate from sixth form with my A levels and go to university. Water rockets, star charts, planetarium balls, computers and cameras had for years been my birthday and Christmas presents, and while the telescope was still a few years old, it was my most prized possession.

And not just because you could see details of the moon's rugged terrain with it, or make out the shape of the horsehead nebula in the constellation Sagittarius. Oh no. Since I had become sexually aware it had quite often been turned away from the night sky, and tilted much more earthward as a growing curiosity of not only what was above me, but also what was around me, began to plague my imagination. It had started with furtive spying on other kids playing on the mountainside, lighting fires with stolen matches, on older teens drinking and snogging and touching each other up supposedly out of sight of the village and their parents. Then once that had paled it had turned even more ground-ward in search of voyeuristic delights.

As I lived at the top end of the village the loft had a commanding view across the large, rectangular plot of allotments that lay behind our house. Around these allotments were other houses, all tightly packed terraced dwellings arranged around the perimeter of the allotments that took about ten minutes to walk around with my dog in the mornings. From the loft, with the telescope angled below the horizontal, I could see inside peoples’ gardens, kitchens, bathrooms and, obviously, bedrooms. The angles limited exactly what you could see, but with many houses I had what could be considered a fairly interesting view.

That's when I fell in lust with Rebecca.

Rebecca was like me; imperfect. I was skinny, geeky by nature, more interested in technology and astronomy than playing football and rugby and would rather be out with a radio controlled car than a pushbike. Rebecca was a little overweight - though certainly nowhere near obese - and spent most of her spare time in her bedroom either playing The Sims on her computer or wiling away the nights on the internet. I knew this because I could see her through the telescope. I didn't have a full view of her bedroom, but I got enough of an angle on her room that I could see her desk and dressing table, and maybe a third of the bottom of her bed. It was a bit of a mess, with clothes scattered everywhere, books and papers and hair care containers all over the place, but that was no different to my own. Occasionally mine was tidied, usually shortly after my parents had gone ballistic on me, but more often than not it looked little better than Bex's. I didn't notice after a while, though, because all I was interested in was her. The lens no longer looked out into space, but deep into Bex's bedroom.

She was a little younger - not by much, though, and had long black hair, most often tied up in a ponytail, and pale milky skin because like me she would rather stay indoors than go out. I don't suppose she had many friends - I never saw anyone else in her room while I was spying on her - and her habit of locking herself up inside rather than going out probably contributed to not just her pale complexion, but also the extra pounds that she carried. Don’t get me wrong here, Rebecca was not a fat girl, but she did carry that extra baggage that comes with growing up and it hadn't burned off due to the lack of exercise that her internet regimen dictated. She had also been one of the b-grade pupils through her years in comprehensive school, and that's why I hadn't noticed her before - we shared no common classes. Pupils were segregated into achievers and under-achievers from the age of thirteen, but Rebecca had clearly worked hard to move out of the lower band and into the uppers, which I reckoned might also help to explain her lack of close friends. She had outgrown her old ones by leaving them behind in their second grade classes, and the ones in the upper band had their own cliques and she hadn't found a way to be included in those.

As is common with some overweight girls, her face was rounded and relatively plain. Soft. When you looked closer - as I did on the bus on the way in to school every day and during Math which was the single cross-over lesson that we both endured together, you could see that beneath the puppy fat there was a very pretty face waiting to break out. Most don't notice these things normally, but when you begin to really focus on somebody the potential becomes so apparent that you wonder why the rest of the world doesn't see it. What attracted me to Rebecca, though, was not so much the awareness of how this girl could grow into a good looking woman, but that her secrets were every bit as dark as mine.

You see, the telescope showed me things about her that you would never normally imagine. It started when I was scanning the back bedrooms of the houses that overlooked the allotments, hoping to find a couple going at it like rabbits with the lights on and the curtains wide open - something that had happened just twice in about three years of below the horizon stargazing. Then one evening my lens settled on the glow of Becca's computer screen, and her profile highlighted in off-white light in the darkness as she MSN'd to complete strangers with her right hand while she felt her own boobs up with her left. My God that got me so hard it was painful, even though all I could see was a ghostly hand moving over her bra as the position of her desk and chair in relation to my view was at a bit of a difficult angle. I couldn't make out what she was typing, or who she was typing to, but I could see from the images that flashed up on her screen exactly what the subject matter was, and that made my stiff meat harder still.

Men were sending her grainy photographs of their cocks, and while they did that she was navigating through an array of folders and pulling up mobile phone pictures of her own hidden treasures. On one occasion I watched her spread her legs and put the mobile down there, before plugging the phone into her computer and uploading a beautiful picture of her fur lined pussy being invaded by a dainty finger, relaying it then on to some unknown lucky bastard over the broadband. She was very careful not to show her face on-line, but her tits and fanny were flaunted to all comers with wanton abandon. I longed for her MSN address as I watched her on those rare occasions when she was online and hadn't closed the blinds, my own hand working my hardness slowly as image after image of hard dicks and gaping pussies flashed up on her screen. Sometimes images of women with cocks in their mouths or men fucking away at their engorged, distended cunts made it up onto the monitor as anonymous wankers from all around the world traded dirty photographs with the object of my secret obsession, while I in turn wanked myself off into the microfiber cloths that I used to polish the lenses on my telescope.

All the while she sat there, leaning into the screen as she sent and received photographs, her hands working on her tits or moving purposefully between her thighs and out of sight to me. We wanked together, Becca and I, though she knew naught of me, remaining blissfully unaware of my hard, erect manhood being stroked in rigid salute of her as she laughed and sighed in a world of her own until my semen spurted into a cloth, often catching me by surprise as I watched her bare legs and feet propped up on the edge of her desk as she leaned back in her chair, the laptop showing a webcam of some stranger also wanking himself off as she chatted over MSN with him before the days of Skype made typing old hat.

How I longed to hear her voice whispering those fuck-me lines, encouraging me to pump my cock harder, to spurt my semen over her full teenaged tits or her open slit, wet and slippery from having just been fingered by red painted nails. I lay awake at night long after she had switched off and gone to sleep herself, replaying the images in my mind, my eyes closed as her husky, lust laden voice urged me to finger her, to eat her out, to ram my hard cock inside her, to flood her womb with my seed or spill it down her gulping throat. I showered every single morning, desperately trying to think of an angle that could get me closer to her as I readied for school, paying more attention to my appearance than I had ever done in my life, depleting Lynx shower gel bottles at an alarming rate and going through a tube of toothpaste a week.

Then one day in Math class when I was trying to conceal a raging hard-on beneath my desk, it suddenly came to me. This was the last lesson of the day, yet it was only lunch time. Normally I'd walk the four miles home instead of waiting for the bus, but most people that lived our way either spent the afternoon in the sixth form common room or in the library. So this time I stayed behind, leaving my bewildered friends to walk home without me, claiming that I was staying behind because I was having trouble with one of my subjects. I looked for Rebecca in the common room, found it deserted, then after lunch break I wandered into the library.

She was there, and she gave me nothing more than a cursory glance as I entered the room. I left it five minutes, thumbing my way through the shelves of books, before finally plucking up the courage to sit opposite her at the table as she worked away at an assignment that she had been given while waiting for the bus to pick her up at the end of the day.

She looked up at me, her eyes reflecting annoyance and a little bewilderment that of all the seats and tables in the near deserted library I could have chosen to sit at I chose the one opposite her. " Hiya Rebecca. I'm sorry to be a bother, but did you get those equations in math at all?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just didn't understand how you get the answer from the question. I'm probably just being thick, but the workings out didn't seem to take me to the answer that everybody else was getting."

"Probably,” she laughed. I was captivated already, I just hoped it didn't show too obviously. "It all seemed pretty easy to me."

"Could you show me,” I asked, and pulled out the work that I had done in the class and deliberately got wrong, having carefully made the same mistake on each of the sample equations that we had been given.

"Ah, I can see what you've done..,” She said after she'd studied my work, then she proceeded to patiently explain to me exactly where I 'd screwed up.

"That's it,” I asked, still playing my role as class dunce.

"That's it. Easy,” She exclaimed.

"Well, thanks very much for walking me through that. I can't afford to screw up this close to the exams. Not with uni on the line."

And from there the conversation blossomed. I told her my hopes and ambitions, why math and physics were so important to my future plans while I worked towards an astrophysics degree, and she shared her dreams of working in investments and banking, and I bought her a can of coke from the common room dispensing machine as we wasted the rest of the afternoon while waiting for the bus home. I helped with her assignment as best I could, which basically meant that I held her up for a couple of hours, then when the bus arrived I made a point of sitting beside her on the way home. As we disembarked at the end of the ten minute journey, I gave her my thanks once again, then went to walk home. She turned away and headed to her half of the village without even a backward glance at me, so I did an about face called out to her.

"Becca, what are you doing tonight?"

"Why,” She asked suspiciously as I walked back up to her, setting my bag on the floor between us. " I've had a good time this afternoon, and I was wondering if you fancied, well, I don't know.... going out and doing something."

"Are you asking me out,” She blushed as the bus pulled off noisily.

"Well, yeah. I guess I am. I know I'm not the greatest catch for a girl, and I won't be at all offended if you turned me down - I expect you've got much better things to do than waste your time on me,” I said, and I said it honestly. I'd had dark dreams of blackmailing her with spreading her secret if she refused to go out with me, but those ideas were quickly squashed once I'd spent a little time with her. If it wasn't going to work, then I'd just keep on secretly using her as my masturbatory muse. I held my breath as I waited for her answer. She seemed to be weighing me up, unsure which way to lean, then after what felt like an eternity but were probably just a few seconds she asked; " What you got in mind?"

I didn't have anything in mind, actually. My mind was a total blank. " Pictures,” I blurted.

"What's on?"

"I haven't a clue,” I admitted. And from there it began. That night we caught a movie, and I didn't even hold her hand as I walked her home from the bus stop. She leaned against the doorway of her house as I said goodnight, and I hesitantly leaned forward. Even in the dark I could see her go red, but her eyes fluttered closed and that was all the invitation that I needed. Our lips touched, and I briefly entertained the notion of sliding my tongue between her lips, but her mouth refused to part when I pressed harder so I consciously held ba ck until we broke apart.

"I'm sorry,” I mumbled. " It just happened. I couldn't help myself."

"I'll see you tomorrow,” She murmured, then she opened her door and disappeared inside. It slammed behind her. I ran home through the dark alley that bordered the allotments and the backs of the houses, not caring if I trod in dog shit as I bombed through the lane. I kicked off my shoes in the hallway and poked my head through the living room door, saying; " Hello, and goodnight,” to my parents who were up watching something on TV, then I careered up the two flights of stairs to the loft, threw the window open, and trained my telescope on Becca's bedroom. All was darkness. Obviously she was still downstairs, so I waited impatiently. It took about ten minutes, but soon Rebecca's room was bathed in the yellow glow from the landing as she went in and then the room lit up as she turned on the light. I saw her walk past her desk, still wearing the jeans and black top that she had worn to the cinema with me and my cock jerked alive when she slowly lifted the black silk garment over her head, her back turned to me. I saw her back split horizontally by the white line of her bra strap, and then she turned out the lights. With no street lighting at the backs of the houses everything was pitch dark, and after ten minutes I realised that she had gone to sleep and wouldn't be turning on her PC for some anonymous roleplay. I didn't know whether to feel disappointed or not. On the one hand I would have loved to see her feeling herself up after being so close to her all night, but on the other hand I was happy that the one kiss we had shared was enough to send her to sleep and possibly fuel her own fantasies. Perhaps she was even rubbing herself beneath the sheets in the darkness. I closed the window, crept down to my room, and dreamed of Rebecca.

I made myself deliberately late for the bus the next day, making sure that everybody else had got on while I ran to catch it, last aboard. I caught her eye as I showed my pass

Tutoring Tess

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Tue, 19 May 2026 03:17:00 +0000

Neighbor's daughter seeks out widower next door, to help her with human sexuality lessons.

By SilverFoxMullet - Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I was folding the last of my laundry, there wasn't much with just myself left in the house. My son had got married and moved to British Columbia. My wife passed on 2 years ago. Just me now, enjoying a much-too-quiet life.

Then the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it, only to find my neighbour's daughter Tess standing on his front porch. I'd watched her grow up next door.

When my son had moved out ten years ago, my wife and I had occasionally babysat little Tess. It had been nice having kids around the house again. She'd grown up into an intelligent, pretty young girl. She'd also been devastated why Marie had died.

"Oh, Hi, Tess. What can i do for you?"

"Hi Mr Brock. I um, I need some help with some, uh, homework. I was hoping you'd be able to help me?"

"Okays, I don't know how much help I can really be, but I can try. High school was an awful long time ago for me! Come on in."

Tess followed me into the living room and I asked her "Do you want a drink, I've got water, pop, juice, or milk."

"Water's fine" she said.

I poured two glasses and came back, handing her one as she sat there on my sofa. "So, how can I help? My knowledge of high school math is really out of date you know."

She was fidgeting and blushing, as she sat there clutching her drink and a textbook. Finally she exhaled and said "Human sexuality" as she held up the book.

I blinked at her, nonplussed. What are they teaching kids these days? The only response I could muster was "Um, what?"

She set down her book, took a drink, then set her glass on the coffee table. "Mr. Brock…"

"Call me Kenneth, please."

"Kenneth. I, I want to learn about um, you know, sex. I, my friends, they're all starting to do stuff, to fool around, and I um, I want to learn too but I'm afraid."

I sat there looking at her, unable to process what she was saying. She grew more agitated, and blushed even more. Tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks. If I have one weakness, it's a crying woman. I got up and moved to sit beside her and wrapped my arms around her.

Tess sobbed and clutched at me, crying into my shoulder. After a few minutes she pulled back, and I let her go. "Will to teach me?" she asked. Oh fuck no, I thought.

"That depends on what you want to learn."

"I want to learn about sex. I want to learn everything, I want you to teach me."

"Oh. How old are you now, Tess?"

"I'm sixteen. I'm old enough to learn about this."

Oh crap. This is bad. Really, really bad. "You may think you're old enough, but not for me, that's for sure. You're not even an adult in the eyes of the law. I'm sorry Tess, I can't help you with this."

Tears started dripping again as she spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this. It's just, like, all my friends, they're doing stuff, and I feel left out, I want to, but I'm scared. They all say sex is painful, or uncomfortable, or just, not great. Stuff I've read, and stuff I've watched on the internet, makes it sound like sex should be really good, really fun, but my friends say it's not. I want to learn the right way, so it's good for me."

Wow. What the hell are her friends doing? Ah, right, teenage boys. Worse than useless. Maybe I can't do anything with her, but I can help.

"Ok, I am not going to teach you, at least not any hands-on lessons, but I will offer you some advice."

She straightened up a bit, and wiped her eyes. God she was so beautiful. Very girl-next-door wholesome. The last thing she deserved was some idiot teenage boy humping at her for 30 seconds and then running off to brag about his prowess to his idiot friends.

"My first piece of advice is to masturbate."

She looked confused now. "You want me to what?"

"Masturbate, play with yourself. Look, how will you ever be able to tell your lover what you want and how you want it unless you know yourself? Get comfortable with yourself, learn how to please yourself, learn what makes your orgasms great."

She was staring wide eyed at me now, as my words started to sink in. "How do I do that?" she asked.

"Look up female masturbation videos. Watch and learn, and practice."

"Okay" she said, "What else?"

"Buy a toy. Get a marital aid, a dildo, so you can practice feeling what intercourse is like. You can use other things, but it's better and safer to use the right tools for the job. Look up a sex shop or stag shop. I'll even go shopping for you if you want."

"Oh, yes, would you, please?"

"Certainly. Now, once you are comfortable with your own sexuality, and you find someone you want to be with, make sure you tell them what you like. Don't be afraid to be demanding about what they're doing. They either do it right or you kick them out of bed."

She giggled at this, which I thought was incredibly cute. "Don't discount female lovers either. They like sex exactly the way you do. Once you get good at masturbation you'll be able to please another girl quite well."

"I don't think I want to do that, I like boys." she said.

"You mean 'men' not 'boys'. That's exactly why your friends are having lousy sex. They're playing with boys."

She nodded, so I continued. "Guys like oral sex too. In fact, if you're good at blowjobs you won't have to put up with their inept antics in bed. That's another use for the dildo, to practice oral sex. And if a guy starts to hump your face, if he starts grabbing you and pushing, bite him. You don't have to take that if you don't want it. If it's something you enjoy, then let him play, but otherwise he is there to please you, not the other way around."

Tess was smiling now, tears all but forgotten. She hugged me, and said "Thank you. I will follow your advice Mr, uh, Kenneth."

I picked up her book, flipped through it quickly, and found the section on female anatomy. I showed her the diagram and said "Learn what all your parts are, what they're for, and how they work. This is a good place to start. I'll find you a toy tomorrow and you can stop by to pick it up on Tuesday, OK?"

She nodded, saying "Thank you", and repeated herself after hugging me again.

Once she'd left I locked the door and went upstairs with laundry basket. I dropped the basket on the bed and went into my bathroom. I had such a wicked hard-on, I just had to get some relief. The very idea that the literal girl next door wanted me to teach her about sex had me hard as steel.

She might be jailbait but I could still follow my own advice, and masturbate. Of course I didn't last long at all, but I wasn't trying to last.

I went shopping for Tess on Monday, picking out a nice realistic looking dildo and a bottle of personal lubricant. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I chose one that was almost exactly my size. The girl at the cash looked kind of funny at me, so I smiled and said "Gift for a friend

Tess knocked on my door the next afternoon when she got home from school. We exchanged greetings and I handed her the plain brown paper bag. She wanted to pay me for it but I told her it was a gift. l got a hug in return and she practically scampered next door. I silently wished her luck. ." It's great to see Tess feeling more confident about her sexuality. I'm still amazed that I'm the one she turned to for help.

The thought of this girl using her new toy to explore herself gave me fodder for my own playtime for the next week. She may only be sixteen, but she's unbelievably sexy.

Afterwards I only saw her in passing, as usual, and we'd wave and say 'Hi'. She looked happy and cheerful, and I assumed her self-directed lessons were going well, as she hadn't returned for any more advice. Part of me assumed she'd developed a romantic relationship and was handling things just fine.

Life went on, I kept busy at work, and did yard maintenance, laundry, and all the usual stuff around the house. I wasn't into playing sports, so I went to the gym a few days a week to keep in shape. My woodworking hobby morphed from a strictly power tool shop to using a lot more hand tools. It was slower paced but I found it a lot more rewarding. Thoughts of Tess faded away. I had my 'internet videos & pics' to keep me occupied when I needed it. I had no interest in pursuing a new love this late in life, so i wasn't dating or putting myself out there.

That was two years ago. Today I was in the basement shop, planing a cherry table top. It was good physical labour, and I was sweating a bit as I worked. I heard the doorbell, so I set the plane aside and brushed the shavings off my pants.

The bell rang again as I hurried up the stairs, yelling "Coming!" I pulled the door open to find Tess standing there smiling at me. "Oh, Hi there, Tess. I haven't seen you around for a while. How've you been?"

"Hi Kenneth! I just wanted to stop by for a visit, if that's OK?"

"Uh, sure, come on in, can I get you a drink or something?"

"Water would be fine, thanks."

I poured two glasses and brought them to the living room. We sipped and she set her glass down.

"So what brings you by today?" I asked.

"Same as last time." she said with a demure smile.

Last time? Shit, last time she wanted me to 'teach' her about sex. I choked on my drink.

"Uh, Last time?" I said faintly.

"I'm here for my next lesson. I turned 18 a month ago," She beamed. "And now I want you to finish teaching me about sex."

Holy fucking mother of god. She was back, and she was more beautiful than ever. She'd matured more since she was 16, with such a pretty face and solid, slim figure. I could see how nice that figure was, because she wasn't hiding it. The bright yellow halter style dress she was wearing had a deep vee displaying her lovely cleavage, no back, and came to mid-thigh on her sleek legs.

I didn't realize that I hadn't responded to her.

"Well? Will you? Please?" she asked. "I've waited two years you know. And I followed all your advice too. I'm ready for the next lesson."

"But why me, you're stunningly beautiful, you could have any guy you wanted."

"I know. And I want you." She said with resolve.

She then kicked off her sandals and stood up. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the tie holding up the top of her dress. It came undone and the dress slithered to the floor, pooling around her feet. All she had on now was a pair of lacy yellow panties

God she was perfect. Chestnut hair, falling about her shoulders. High, firm, fully tanned breasts with neat brown areolas and stiff looking nipples; her slender waist flared into nicely curved hips, which continued in a graceful curve down her thighs.

Tess stepped towards me, and held out her hand. I reached out and took it. God help me, this was so wrong, but I was literally unable to resist her. She pulled gently and I rose to my feet, stunned by her presence. A tug on my hand was all she had to provide to get me in motion, and I followed her from the living room.

She led me to the top of the stairs, hypnotizing me with the sway of her ass; then stopped and asked in a sultry voice "Which way is the bedroom?"

"This way" I said, pointing to the right. I continued to follow her, into my room, where she stopped, turned, and stood with her arm wrapped around the tall bedpost at the foot of my queen bed. "Tess…" I croaked in a strained voice.

"This is what I wanted back then, when I came to you two years ago. It's still what I want now. You said I was too young. I'm an adult now, and I want this, I want you."

"Oh god, Tess. I want to say no, I should say no, I have to say no, but I can't. You're so perfect, so beautiful, so delightful, and I can't tell you no."

She smiled, and oh man, she was so stunningly beautiful it made me weak at the knees. Like a fucking goddess. And like a goddess, no mere mortal like me could refuse her.

"Make love to me, Kenneth." She said, in a low sultry voice.

I peeled off my polo shirt and tossed it aside. The rest of my clothing quickly followed, and I stood before her as aroused as I had ever been in my life. Her smile broadened and she laughed lightly, saying "Oh you're perfect! You're just like that wonderful dildo that you gave me to practice on!"

I remembered the dildo I bought her years ago, and recalled that that was exactly what I'd picked out for her. I just smiled back at her and gave a little shrug. She laughed again and beckoned me forward. The goddess pulls the strings and the puppet moves to her will. Where did she get such sexual confidence and assertiveness?

I took her hand and walked over to the side of the bed, where I sat and guided her onto my lap, and kissed her.

She sighed into the kiss, and melted against me. Her skin was so soft, her warm, fragrant body so supple and firm at the same time. We kissed for a while, and I moved my attentions from her lips to her jawline, then to her earlobes, and finally her neck.

Tess was cooing and sighing in my arms, her firm breasts and taught nipples pressed to me. I kissed her again, harder, and brought my tongue into it. Hers came back at me to play, and we tasted each other for a while more.

When she started to writhe in a subtle manner I knew she was truly aroused, so I moved her over to lie back on the bed. Awestruck, I gazed at her, reddish brown hair fanning out on the bed, firm breasts sitting high on her chest, defying gravity and anatomy alike. I swooped down upon her breasts, stroking, kissing, licking, and fondling her magnificence.

Those coos and sighs continued, and she started adding words to her breathless sounds. "Don't touch my nipples yet" she whispered, as she directed me to the valley between her tits. I moved to the undersides of them, and thence to her areolas, as I progressed along my slow, wonderful tour.

Finally, with a moan and a push, she led me to the end of this part of our journey. Set in goose-bumped areolas, her swollen, highly sensitive nipples were my last target. I began with gentle licks, then small kisses, on one, then the other, and back. Then it was nibbles, fingers rolling them, sucking them, pressing them, and manipulating her nipples as many ways as I could. She began to writhe beneath me, her words tapering off into moans and gasps. No longer directing me, I played, I explored, I teased and tantalized her. A shudder, followed by a long sighing gasp was the signal she was done with this, and she gently pushed me away.

"Oh, Kenneth, that was wonderful! Thank you. Now lay back, I want to explore you."

I did as she bid, and Tess started touching, stroking, fondling, and kissing her way from my ears to my toes. She didn't spend too long in any one place, and she avoided my cock completely. Little questions, do I like this, or that, and little comments about what she found or liked, interspersed her explorations. She found some ticklish places, and she also found some really arousing places too. Places my wife had never found, places I never suspected I had.

By now, there was a puddle of pre-cum on my abdomen, and she shifted her position to inspect me more closely. She lifted my cock and licked the most recent droplet from it. Then she dipped her head down and lapped up that puddle. My stomach muscles flexed and clenched as she tickled me with her agile tongue. She giggled at my 'gut reaction' as she called it.

Then the most wondrous sensation hit my rigid cock. Her mouth closed over me, and that agile tongue found a new place to play. My late wife hadn't been much for blowjobs, so this was a rare treat indeed for me. Last time would have been probably 25 years ago. And it didn't stop with her tongue, amazing as it was. My shaft began to disappear into her mouth bit by bit, as she bobbed up and down ever so slowly. I stared stunned and slack-jawed in amazement as Tess worked my cock into her throat.

I kept my hands to myself, clutching the duvet, and desperately willed myself not to cum. Alas, this last was in vain, because this goddess continued to pull strings on her mortal puppet. She wanted me to cum, so cum I would, whether I wanted to or not. I groaned and muttered "I'm gonna cum" through gritted teeth. She heeded my warning by humming and pulling back until just my head was in her warm wet mouth. She redoubled her efforts with her tongue, swirling around and around my throbbing manhood. With a whimper I came, shaking and pulsing over and over into her eager mouth. She swallowed my load and kept licking and sucking until I wilted in her mouth.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Oh god, Tess, that was the best I ever had."

She giggled again. "I'm just glad you picked a toy the right size. Practice makes perfect. Although my toy doesn't cum like you do, that was a bit of a surprise. It doesn't taste bad at all, but the texture is weird."

As I listened to her words, she made me wonder, and I had to ask. "Was that your first real blowjob?"

"Uh huh. First ever. It was good?"

"Like I said, best ever. I can't believe that was your first time doing this!"

"First time for real, it was always just my toy before now."

"Wow."

"Now it's your turn to please me" she said, rolling onto her back and tugging my arm. Those strings again, pulling me wither she desired, and this time it was her most private place. I used my hands and forearms, my lips and tongue, to stroke and touch her all over. It was my turn to find her interesting places, her ticklish spots, and make her squirm in anticipation.

I touched her face and neck, kissing and stroking, and proceeded to her shoulders and arms. Another chance to play with her lovely breasts was not to be denied either, and I did indeed have her squirming now. I worked my way down her body, making sure to test every place I could for sexual suitability. She directed me to a few places that she liked, and I found some spots she didn't yet know about. She began to get more vocal, calling my name occasionally, giving hints and feedback and directions, interwoven with a progressively louder and more varied series of moans and gasps.

I stopped, and rose to preview what I was about to acquire. I softly brushed my fingers all around her panties, and her movements became more erratic, changing from a slow undulation to twitching and shuddering. Slowly, I peeled the bright yellow lace from her hips. I could scent her now, a wonderful mix of the robust and the delicate at the same time. She had a beautiful reddish-brown bush, lush and soft, that led to her sex.

I nuzzled her lovely triangle of fur, all the while drawing in her heady aroma. I discarded her panties now, and her legs fell open to my gaze. Beautiful. Exquisite, even. Her lightly furred vulva surrounded a pair of dark-edged lips, glistening with the source of that scent I was enjoying. I pushed her legs farther apart and looked up at her. She smiled back at me and said "Teach me". Fuck.

A lick, along her slit, hammered my senses of taste and smell, filling me with her. She was sour and sweet and floral and meaty, with a little saltiness from her sweat. I moaned into her as I plowed her with my tongue again, deeper, harder. More contact, more flavour, more joy! I pulled back and looked for her clit. That little peak in her folds held a secret I wanted to discover. I drove my tongue into her again and licked all the way up to try and find her clitoris. It was there, small, but firm, still buried in those folds, I could feel it. She could too, based on how she squeaked and jumped when I hit the right spot.

Her breathing was getting faster, and her thighs were flexing, so I assumed she was very close. Did I want, or even need, to tease her? I needed to know what she wanted, so I asked. "Do you want to cum now, or make it last a while?"

"In a little while, but not too long" she said as she brought her ha

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Mon, 18 May 2026 01:07:00 +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 sautéing 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 façade 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."

She was right and I didn't have a good retort other than 'the Bible says,' so I j

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sun, 17 May 2026 01:04:00 +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 engineering major and a little about my family background, including how the Burke

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sat, 16 May 2026 01:05:00 +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 naïve 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."

Carnival.

That afternoon, the Christian sc

Joan Finds God and Eros

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Thu, 14 May 2026 07:43:00 +0000

Joan Finds God & Eros.

Based on the legend of Pope Joan.

By professor98. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The following account is fiction, which is based on the well-documented Legend of Pope Joan, the first, and last female Pope of the Catholic Church.

As this story took place in the ninth century of the Christian era, or Year of our Lord; many of the terms are from ancient languages. Words such as slitten, which is Old English for slit, and sheath, later referred to as cunny or cunt. Although the specific accounts were not taken down on paper, the story refers to certain facts in which the legend was based.

The first, and last female Pope of the Catholic Church

In the year of our lord, 823 A D, a girl, Joanna Wellen was born in a small village not far from Salisbury Plain in southern England. He mother died due to complications of the birth. As she grew, she would often visit Stonehenge, with her father who treated her with great love and affection. Stonehenge was a religious center, and an astronomical observatory; which lay not far from their village. It was used as a place of worship, especially by the surfs and peasants who were not allowed to attend Church.

M!--more-->

In those days in England and Europe for that matter, females were considered worthless and only good for birthing babies, cooking, scrubbing and cleaning for a man. They were not allowed to go to school, as society thought them incapable of learning.

Joanna grew up as a scullery maid and worked on her Father's farm for years. From the time she learned to speak, Joan always wanted to learn about everything, so when she was fifteen and began to clean house for the village schoolteacher, they became friends and when she was not working, she begged him to teach her to read.

As her father loved her very much, he had no complaints regarding her studies, and invited the schoolteacher for supper, four evenings a week in payment for teaching her.

After several years, the schoolteacher, one Edmund Beddus was married to a fairly well to do somewhat older widow, Gwendolyn Vaughan, who's late husband was killed in a horseback ridding accident. It was not well known at the time; however he was drunk. As Edmund didn't earn much money, he jumped at the chance to marry Gwendolyn, mostly for her stature and wealth.

After a while, Gwendolyn became angry due to the attention Edmund paid to Joan and threatened him with a divorce. Edmond ended his three-year relationship with the girl, and she had to return all of the books she had borrowed.

The young village priest Father Paul had always seen Joan walking with a book in her hands and was taken with her beauty. One day he saw her passing the church, however she had no book. He called to her and said,

"Are you no longer reading Joan?"

"I no longer have books available to me, Father." She said.

"Well Joan, if ever you wish books to read again, feel free to come by the rectory after supper and I will let you read some that belong to the church."

This was a very special offer as there were no libraries and all books were written by hand. It would be six hundred years before; Johannes Gutenberg would invent moveable type and print his first bible.

The following evening, after making supper for her Father, Joan walked to the church and knocked on the rectory door. Father Paul answered and invited her in. As the parish was pour, they only had four books. One was a bible, the second was a book called, "Entrance to Heaven", which was a guide for priests.

The third and fourth were written in Latin, a language in which Joan had no knowledge. Father Paul told her to be seated by the fire, picked up the book in Latin and began to read.

"When a priest has a craving for a physical union, it is the duty of all females to give themselves to him willingly. This is the law of God. Sexual union is God's reward to everyone who follows his decrees. The female shall spread her legs wide and allow the priest to enter her with his phallic member.

"Father what is a phallic member?"

"All males have a phallic member Joan. It is the essence of a man."

"I have no knowledge of such essence. What will it do?"

"It is the instrument that will allow a female to see God."

"Do you have your phallic member with you Father Paul?"

"Yes, I do."

"May I see it Father?"

"Of course my child."

Father Paul lifted his short tunic and revealed his penis and testicles. Joan was very interested and asked how she would be able to see God, with his instrument. The Father invited her to repose on his bed of straw, and he would display the power of his essence.

When she complied, Father Paul knelt down and lifted her tattered dress, revealing her slitten, the entrance to her passageway. As he spread her legs, Joan wondered what he was doing and why. In her eighteen years she had never heard of this type of ritual, and wondered who had written the book.

Kneeling between Joan's legs, Paul stripped off his tunic and was naked before her; his member became erect and was pointing toward the ceiling. As he bent forward, and guided his penis toward the opening to her vagina, she wondered if she would really see God. A priest would never lie to her, she thought.

As Father Paul rubbed the large head of his phallus up and down her damp slitten, she became more interested in his movements. They felt strangely pleasing, and her slitten began to tickle and was becoming very warm, and wet. She had felt nothing like this in her short life.

It was wonderful and caused her to breath harder. Slowly Paul began to move his penis into her vagina and she screamed in pain. It felt as though he was entering her with a double-egged sword. She knew right then, she was about to see God, as his phallus would surly end her life. She had never experienced a pain such as this. Father Paul was deep into her vagina, and moving fast as she lay under him, her tears flowed down her cheeks as she waited for impending death.

However as he continued to move, her pain was subsiding and pleasure was replacing it. She believed that Father moving his phallus in and out of her; was devoid of wisdom and good sense.

Other than a nice feeling from between her legs, the whole process seemed fruitless, and a bit pointless. He continued for some time and pointless as the process appeared to be, she was developing a wonderful feeling in her belly. Father Paul was creating a desire, which previously Joan had no knowledge of. Her belly was tingling as the Father continued his thrusts, his phallus sliding in and out of her passageway. She found herself lifting her legs, then wrapping them around Father Paul's legs, pulling him tight into her channel.

As he continued, Joan's feelings for the young Father were growing at an alarming rate and her need for some kind of satisfaction was increasing. Her emotions were on a never ending latter, climbing to the sky.

Without any warning, Joan felt herself begin to discharge juices with a force. She felt fulfillment and gratification of an unknown desire and appetite, which lifted her to extreme pleasure and contentment.

Father Paul had not yet discharged his essence and doubled his efforts. As Joan felt his increasing movements in to her, desire began to grow again almost exponentially and she held him tight to her. Father Paul called out to heaven,

"Oh Lord my God, I am your humble servant and I do your bidding."

Joan felt a new gush of liquid, however it wasn't coming from her, it was coming from Father Paul. The feeling was beautiful in design and execution, and although she did not see God, she believed she was closer to him. The whole occurrence was a delicacy as to arouse intense delight, and satisfaction. Joan cared little to see God, as she was taking great pleasure and delight in his glory.

Suddenly a reoccurrence of her discharge began, and she was lifted beyond the bounds of Earth. Her blood ran hot as her juices flowed once again.

"Your phallus is as you said Father, truly the essence of man, and God."

"Remember Joan, although my member, my penis, from the Latin, if you will, is a wonderful instrument. It would be useless without your marvelous passage of desire. My penis requires your vagina to achieve its primary and sacred function. Without woman, man has little purpose in life. It is God's design."

Joan knew that her existence had taken a new direction. She was truly a daughter of God, and would do everything necessary to fulfill the Heavenly Father's design. As Father Paul lay in coitus relaxen, a Latin term for rest after sexual intercourse, Joan lifted his depleted penis and examined it carefully. She found a hidden beauty within its current state, although it was much more useful when it was swollen to a larger size.

She felt closer to Father Paul than she had to any individual, except maybe her own Father. The closeness was of course the feeling most women would feel to a man; who brought her such euphoria and intense pleasure. Joan felt compelled to pay homage to his member and leaned down to kiss it.

It had a strange yet inexplicable odor. Not a bad odor, but one, which could not be described. She had detected a similar odor before when the farm animals were ready for breeding. Joan kissed Father Paul's member on the tip once again, and suddenly it began to throb and swell. As she unexpectedly enjoyed the taste, she slid the head of his penis into her mouth, and for some unknown, but natural desire, began to suck on it.

Father Paul squirmed in delight feeling something wonderful which he only had knowledge of, during confessions of travelers to the Far East. It was told to him that Egyptian girls reveled in sucking a man's penis, and excelled in elevating a man to an ultimate level of fulfillment and gratification.

Strangely he had never heard of an English female performing such a wonderful service. This was something that God and the Church made no mention of, possibly because it had nothing to do with reproduction.

Joan now had a challenge and believed she would be able to master it. As she sucked the Priest's penis he moaned, apparently enjoying her oral stimulation causing him arousal, and intense pleasure beyond that of which she provided with her vagina. The priest took hold of Joan's head and moved his hips upward in a masterful manner, emulating copulation.

Joan was now eager to give the young priest something he would continue to desire, throughout their newly found friendship. As she sucked him, her hand took hold of his testicles and fondled them as one might do with a favorite pet. The priest in return moaned and mewed letting her know how much the manipulations of her mouth on his penis were appreciated.

With little warning the priest began to spray his bodily secretions into her mouth with a degree of fluidity that surpassed his previous performance. Joan sat up wondering what was to be done with Father Paul's essence. Would it be a sin to expel it from her mouth? As it was a gift from God, she wondered what she should do. Father Paul saw the questioning expression on Joan's face and said,

"Swallow it, Joan. God would want nothing less. Essence is too important to be splattered on the floor."

Although the creamy liquid felt wonderful in her mouth, she followed directions and allowed the liquid to slowly slide down her throat. Although a bit salty, the essence was also sweet. A fascinating combination she thought.

"Do you want me to continue reading, Joan?"

"No. Not tonight as I believe Morpheus, the ancient Roman god of sleep and dreams, is calling to me. May I return after supper on the morrow, Father Paul?"

"Of course my child. You may visit me any time you desire, and I will teach you everything I have knowledge of."

Joan joins a priest, who is entertaining another person.

Joan slept the sleep of chastity, although she knew that she was no longer a maiden, and deserved little satisfactory sleep. She could not understand why she had such wonderful feelings throughout her body. Apparently it was God's desire, and he was pleased with her actions.

She spent the day, milking the cows, currying the horses, cooking and cleaning. She fed all of the animals and cleaned their stalls, while her father worked in the fields planting vegetables. They broke for the mid-day meal and sat together while eating. Her Father asked,

"Joan, what did you learn at the church with Father Paul, last eve?"

"Father Paul read to me from a large book in Latin. I learned about God's design and the essence of man. He also taught me how man should best serve God, and what God expects of his children."

"My daughter is such a wonderful student; and has an admirable mind, unlike her ignorant father."

"Father, if it was not for your understanding and love for me, I would never have learned to read and write. You are not ignorant and I love you."

"Are you going to the church tonight little one?"

"Yes father, if that would be convenient for you. There is much work to be done."

"Of course my daughter, although I feel you deserve some enjoyment and rest. You work here all the day, then study hard after dark. A girl should also have some good times in her young life."

"Believe me Father, the enjoyment I have received from God's love has been wonderful and fulfilling. My life has found new meaning and absolute pleasure. Are you remaining home on this eve?

No, I plan to go to the public house and have a tall glass of warm Ale."

"In moderation, father. Do not forget your last venture to the public house. You were unable to get out of bed long past sunrise."

"Yes daughter, I recall. I will only have a pint or so."

Father and daughter then parted company. Joan washed the dishes, swept the floors, and then went out to feed the hogs. He father returned to his planting. They would have a good harvest on the year.

Supper came and went. As night fell, Joan fed the fireplace and as the light danced on the walls of the room, she wondered if Father Paul would elevate her with his phallus and essence. Taking a torch from its storage place, she shoved the end of it into the fire. The tip burned brightly, warming her face.

Leaving the house, she trudged up the path, in the dark toward the rectory. Upon arriving, Joan opened the door and walked in. Father Paul was naked and laying on top of her close friend Lily, a postulate, or nun-in-training. His phallus was deeply imbedded in her sheath.

Joan stood there and watched as Father Paul continued to enter into and permeate her vagina, helping her temporarily ascend to heaven's gate. Lily was much involved in Father Paul's God-like movements, and was sinking her nails in his back, moaning loud and mumbling,

"More Father Paul, more. Send me to see God."

Joan sat in a chair, next to the bed of straw and watched as the Father's penis slid in and out of her friend. Everything seemed to be very wet and coated with a viscous liquid, and a small amount of blood. Joan wondered if it would be better for her to withdraw, as Father was fully involved in her friend.

"Joan", said Paul. "Please disrobe and join us in the bed. We can all do the Lord's work together."

Quickly, as Father Paul began to eject his essence into the young girl, she moaned loudly and began to squirt her juices, pumping them past Father's penis and onto his testical sack.

She stated to the priest; "More Father Paul, please do more. I want God to love me."

"God does love you, my child, more than most women, whom would refuse to share their sacred passage with the sons of the church."

Joan shed her clothing and joined the couple on the bed of straw, which was covered with a sheet like covering. Father rolled off of the girl as she lay in a semi unconscious state, moaning lightly.

Joan took hold of Paul's phallus and began to stroke it as she had done the evening prior. It took some patient time and affectionate gestures of fondness, however when his penis again became tumescent, Joan lifted her leg over him and eased down onto his lap, allowing his coccus to impale her tight moist vagina.

She moved front to back, feeling the priest's huge member inside of her, thanking God in a little prayer for bringing such knowledge and pleasure to her.

She was full of cheer as she thought there would be more pain associated with another coupling, however she now understood that the pain was only in the initial coupling, as Eve s curse of Genesis proved to be very real, some 8 centuries later. From this night on, only God's reward of pleasure would be provided.

As Joan became more involved in riding the priest, her friend Lily awoke and crawled in behind her. At the priest's command, Lily began to lightly fondle his testicles, and then slid a delicate finger into Joan's rectum. This was a wonderful turn of events, thought Joan. The pressure of his penis was enhanced by her friend's finger. There were so many new things to learn, she thought; as she began to squirt her liquid onto the priest's penis and testicles.

Lily slid her hand onto Paul's penis and retrieved some of the liquid, spreading it on Joan's gloutos and thighs. She then moved her face down and licked Joan's anal orifice, between her arse cheeks, kissing the priest's penis and Joan's slitten. Lily's tongue then slithered into Joan's rectal opening and sucked the surrounding fleshy area. Joan squirted again, and Lily excitedly licked up her juice like it was delicious gravy. As the priest moved faster into Joan's vagina, she moaned and said praying,

"Oh my Lord, your humble servant Joan, beseeches you to help her receive pleasure and satisfaction from your plentiful bounty. May I never invoke your wrath, or fail to satisfy the hope, desire, and expectations you have for me. Your will be done."

Only a minute passed and Joan screamed, as she reached her sacred communion with God, and had a violent and disruptive orgasm. Father Paul smiled as Joan rolled off of him and lay quietly next to him. Lily seeing that Father Paul's phallus, was pointing toward the heavens, lay down and paid special honor and respect to his penis, by slipping the large member into her mouth and sucking on the tasty meaty, shaft.

Father Paul blessed the girls and told them they would be granted a place at God's table for their service and aid, to a son of the Holy Church. Lily sucked him harder until he squirted his heavenly essence into her mouth. As she swallowed the slippery liquid, she knew in her heart that she was truly doing God's work.

Joan examined the phallus of the priest, and wondered why it was no longer hard. This was not the Lord's design. She asked, "Why is your phallus deflated, Father Paul? It must be strong like a solders lance, to complete God's work."

"Joan. In the first chapter of the known bible, known as Genesis, God worked six days and on the seventh day he rested."

"As I'm doing God's work, I must rest also. He will soon give me strength to complete this day s duties and tasks."

Joan sat there praying, and massaging Father Paul's penis; to provide him sensual stimulation that he might pass on God's bounty. After several long minutes, the member began to become tumescent again. Joan was thrilled and eager to complete more of the Heavenly Father's pleasurable work.

When Lily saw the Father's foreskin retreat she became aware his penis was again becoming hard, and she knew God's incentives and rewards were at hand. She crawled next to Joan and assisted her in bringing th

My Virgin Scuba Adventure

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Wed, 13 May 2026 16:25:00 +0000

My Virgin Scuba Adventure

My first time with a woman was way better than porn!

Based on a post by my deep six. Listen to the ►Podcast at My First Time.

Based on the post of MsCherylTerra, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

My name is Robbie, looks-wise I'm tall and lanky, awkward, with curly brown hair usually too long, and up to last weekend, a virgin College sophomore. I learned when you are single with few friends, meeting a woman is hard, meeting one that will touch your cock is harder, and the fact that I was a poor, scruffy underclassman was not helping.

Between class schedule, part-time work, and no real social outlet, I found myself stressed at school, so when I learned about a weekend scuba trip to a nearby quarry "Lake Lumiere", I signed up. I'd been "Open Water" certified in high school, but out of practice, I was looking forward to a little adventure.

Saturday morning at sunrise, the charter bus dropped us off at the Quarry's dive shop, I grabbed my rental wet suit, fins, and other gear and headed for the showers to change. There was a bank of 6 doors in the cinder block building on the "Men's" side, and the same behind them for women. The stalls were tiny shower/toilet/sink rooms, barely large enough for two, but room enough to change. Most of the doors were closed or marked "Occupied", but there was one door on the end slightly ajar, so I pushed my way in.

"Get in here and shut that door!" I heard a man's voice. My eyes were adjusting to the interior light but I reflexively obeyed, turning to lock the door behind me. When I turned around I saw this naked guy in the shower, his cock deep in a bent-over woman facing away from me, she was holding onto the shower wall for dear life. Her wet suit was unzipped past her ass, and she was moaning with pleasure: "Don't stop! Fuck me! I need your cock in me! Fuck! Fuck!" The shower guy was only too eager to keep going, his lean, muscled frame covered in hair, but you could see his six-pack abs and big chest flexing even as he pumped in and out of her, making her squeal and grunt. I tried to look away but stared as if I was watching it on my laptop.

The shower guy was pounding her hard, then he grunted "Ugh ugh ugh Ugh!" and I guess he climaxed, ejaculated, his cock slowly pumping away at her cunt. Just as she cried out "Oh, god, yes!" in ecstasy I heard a banging on the door and some other guy yelling "Sandy? Sandy, are you in there?" The woman whispered "Shit, it's my husband!" and then semi-stood up and looked over my way, noticing I was there for the first time. She had a swimmer's body, but big boobs, red hair, maybe in her early 30s, a very hot MILF in retrospect. Her face went from a post-orgasmic bliss to a mild shock at seeing me look over at them.

"Who the fuck is he?" she whispered to the guy still balls deep in her dripping cunt. He pulled out and zipped up her wet suit, kissed her, smiled, and said "Trust me." He reached up and unlocked one of the narrow frosted windows over the shower, and boosted her up. She was shapely, even with her with big tits stuffed into her wet suit. She looked around to see if it was clear, whispered "See you later, stud." and shimmied herself out the window, lowering herself down and I heard sounds of footsteps running away.

The nude guy didn't move to get dressed or cover-up. Laid back for a guy who just nailed a married woman; whose husband was right outside, pounding on the door. He looked very relaxed, then smiled at me, saying: "Open the door, bud?" so I, still a little stunned, unlocked the door and cracked it open. The guy outside pushed it open and asked "Sandy? Are you in there?" Almost knocking me over. I heard a voice behind me say "No "Sandy" here, but you can come it." Looking over my shoulder, Sandy's husband made a disgusted face, then looked and me and shook his head, moving backward until he turned and left.

I shut and locked the door, and turned to see the shower guy was still nude, then I noticed his semi-hard cock was wet and dripping cum onto the floor as he pulled his condom off. I looked at his face in horror. He grinned and said "Hi, I'm Tony" extending his hand to shake.

I was still dumbfounded, it must have been visible in my face. Tony lowered his hand and started to pull on his wet suit. "Your name is?" he asked. "Robbie" I managed to say, still not sure what was happening.

"Well, Robbie, you did a good thing just now, I owe you a favor."

"A favor?" I asked, "That dude thinks I'm gay! The whole camp might too!" I blurted out. Tony looked at me and asked, "She was pretty hot, wasn't she?" I nodded. He continued "Do you want to taste her twat?" I nodded. Tony then wagged his big, still dripping cock toward me and said "She came all over my cock, go for it!"

I must have looked appalled, Tony just laughed and pulled his wet suit up over his waist. "Robbie, you look pretty straight to me. But, playing gay just kept me out of a lot of trouble, so I'll make it up to you. Trust me."

I shrugged and returned to getting ready, pulling my wet suit on. I looked over at Tony, he was my height, maybe a little more, a little older, not much, with thick brown well well-kept hair on his head. Big arms, broad shoulders, hairy. A toothy but warm smile. He was one of those laid-back handsome types, the kind people liked immediately.

Tony asked me "Do you have a dive partner today?" I shook my head "No". He smiled and slapped my back "You do now!"

The morning diving turned out awesome, the quarry was cold but the water clear and full of all kinds of fish, and sunken vehicles to explore. Tony was an experienced diver, giving me tips and suggestions and we were quick friends. We didn't see Sandy all morning, but did get a lot of attention from other girls, Tony just naturally attracted them; he'd jump out of the water onto the dock, unzip his wet suit and flex a little in the sun, and Boom! Girls. They'd make any excuse to talk with him, and he seemed to thrive on the attention. After a while, I got comfortable doing "Wingman" duties, as it was a great ice-breaker and I think I talked to more girls that day than my entire life before this moment. It felt great.

At lunchtime, we dropped off our scuba tanks for an air refill and talked. "OK, who is Sandy?" I asked. "Honestly? Tony admitted, "I was looking for an open room to change, and she came up to me asking for help with her wet suit zipper, I noticed a ring on her finger but we talked and the next thing I know she's kissing me and rubbing my cock. I barely got my rubber on before she bent over and slid my cock up into her (very tight!) cunt! A minute later you showed up!" He acted like this was an ordinary morning for him, so I let it drop.

After lunch, we explored the quarry until our tanks were almost out of air, and packed our gear up, dropping off our tanks at the rental shop. Again, several girls from college would stop and chat, happy to talk with Tony and his friend, as if I got better looking by association. We had a great time, I didn't notice Tony had disappeared for a while but then showed up with two take-out boxes of burgers and fries, saying "I've got a beer at the tent, come on!"

He had pitched his tent next to his vintage red Mustang convertible, a real beauty. We sat nearby and talked more, Tony offered me tips to meet and socialize with women, what the best cars were, the best places he's ever gone scuba diving, and the many times a boyfriend or husband almost caught him fucking their wife or date. He was so casual about it as if it happened to everyone. I listened and hoped to remember his tips and advice. Before long the sun set and we lit a small campfire. There were the sounds of parties, radios blaring music, and cars as they returned from dinner or left the park. It was a great evening.

Tony checked his watch and said, "Sandy will be by soon, she told me her husband drinks and passes out not too long after dark." I was impressed, he knew how to read people, that was certain.

"Look," Tony said, "Stay out here for 15 minutes or so after she's in the tent, then come on in." I must have looked puzzled, but he winked and said "You'll know what to do."

Sure enough, as the sun set and the sound of crickets grew louder, we heard Sandy calling out "Tony?" softly, and he got up to greet her. I stayed in the shadows as he told me, watching them kiss and her hands going to his ass and balls while he squeezed her gravity-defying tits over the long t-shirt she wore. Her red hair was in a ponytail and she kicked off the beat-up sneakers she wore. She roughly pulled his swim trunks down, he stepped out of them and his semi-hard cock bounced and swayed, to her delight. Eagerly, without even looking around, he led her into the tent.

Almost instantly, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of her slobbering on his cock, and him moaning and encouraging her. "Suck that cock, Sandy, lick my balls!"

Sandy replied between gasps of air "Your balls are so good, I love your cock, it's so big! I'm hungry for your cum!" She squealed and gagged as Tony fucked her mouth, making sloppy wet sounds. A few minutes later, I heard her say "Oh, yes, your big cock fills my cunt so much! Yes! Deeper! Fuck me! Oh, yes, yes!" Then Tony: "You're twat is so tight! Oh, Oh, I'm close!" I never listened to real people having sex before, it was different than porn, that's for sure, more spontaneous, or real, maybe passionate? It's hard to say. It was getting me hard, though. This went on for a while until I heard her cry out, and Tony grunted "I'm cumming!" and she replied, "Fill my cunt, stud!" I suddenly remembered Tony wanted me to come into the tent, and even though I was apprehensive, I didn't want to chicken out now.

Tentatively, carefully, but doing as instructed, I entered the tent. Seated on the floor, Tony had both hands on Sandy's head and was fucking her mouth. There was a magnum condom discarded nearby, full of cum. Her ass was pointed up, her tits hanging out of her t-shirt, and I could see she was bare-bottomed, her cunt wet and glistening in the firelight, her lips red and swollen. Tony grinned at me, then nodded to Sandy's ass, and winked. I lifted her t-shirt over her ass, watching the firelight glint off her wet cunt. Tenderly, I touched my first cunt, running my fingers through the smooth wet folds and trying to find the elusive clitoris I've only seen in porn. Sandy moaned and spread her legs, inviting me to explore deeper. Tony flipped me a condom, and I dropped my trunks, my hard cock springing free, then fumbled to put it on as quickly as possible.

By now, my animal instinct took over and I was rock hard, I slipped out of my trunks completely and positioned myself behind Sandy, using the tip of my cock head to spread her wetness around. Sandy moaned again and said impatiently, "Just put it in!", so I positioned myself as best I could tell, and pushed.

No matter how much porn you watch, getting things to line up in person is not a simple task. I think she thought my awkward poking and sliding around was teasing because she giggled and gasped and finally pushed her hips back and I sunk in, she was so wet that I was balls deep before I knew it. Sandy started to fuck me back furiously, and I pretty much just held onto her hips for dear life.

"Oh Oh Oh!" she cried "Fuck me! Fuck fuck fuck! I can feel your cock, so hard!" she took her mouth off Tony's cock long enough to kiss up his chest and then stick her tongue down his throat.

Sandy was unleashed, her hips moved in and out and she rotated them, I looked down and saw her beautiful cunt split to take my cock, her cunt lips dragging over my hard shaft tightly. I felt like I was going to cum very soon, and tried to last longer but I had no control. I felt the hot cum boiling up and then my cock swelled up and I started pumping a giant load deep into Sandy's body, hot jet after hot jet. This only made her wilder and she fucked back more energetically than before. She bent over and started sucking Tony's cock again, her head bobbing up and down in time to my cock pounding her.

Tony leaned back and Sandy took his balls into her mouth, roughly, causing him to pull her up by her ponytail for a moment. She tugged loose from his grip and returned to his cock, licking all around and then taking the head into her mouth.

I had finished ejaculating, but Sandy's tight cunt felt great and she was still fucking me and I easily stayed hard, pounding her back and reaching for her big tits, to play with the nipples. Tony lay back and pulled his legs up, and I think she was eating below his balls, near his ass, from the animal sounds she was making the grunts from Tony. This woman was a crazy fuck, how her husband didn't take advantage of her nature, I'll never understand.

At some point she flipped over and around, pulling off my cock and bringing her knees up to her chest, exposing her dripping cunt to Tony, telling him "Fuck me now! I need to feel your cum in me!" Tony eagerly obliged, A fresh condom appeared on his cock like magic, then he grunted, sinking his meaty cock into Sandy. She cried out with pleasure and her hips ground against his pelvis, wildly. I was kneeling near her head, my slick cock bouncing right near her face. Tony lifted her legs onto his shoulder and pounded her deeper and faster than before, Sandy was making sounds like a crazy woman, as orgasm after orgasm shook her body.

Finally, Tony grunted and held her close, his body rigid and his breathing labored, then he relaxed and rolled off Sandy, propping himself up on one elbow and grinning. Sandy crawled over to him, kissing him on the face and down his chest, and idly playing with his semi-soft cock.

Tony reached back and grabbed a beer, offering Sandy a drink, she took it and drank long before giving it back. Tony finished it and lay back, closing his eyes, and said sleepily "Kid, make sure she gets back to her tent safe, OK?" and that was that.

Well, Sandy gave up trying to get his cock to respond, and frustrated, pulled her t-shirt down and found her sandals. "Come on, Kid!" she said, starting without looking back.

I ducked to leave the tent when Tony opened one eye and said "Kid!" and I turned just as he flipped a new condom at me, winking before leaning back and closing his eyes. I put it into my pocket and then sprinted to catch up.

I was not sure about getting too close to her tent, husband sleeping or not, but Sandy had other plans. We took a detour down to the quarry, to the boat docks. She stripped off her shirt and jumped into the water nude, then called back for me to join her. So, I did.

"So," she said, "You were a virgin, well, until tonight." I must have looked stunned and started to think of how to deny it and look non-dorky but she took my hand and said "You were fine, don't sweat it, kid." then she got closer and whispered in my ear "In fact, you were more than just fine, even for your first time!" I admit I was relieved to hear that, no one wants to learn they are no good in bed. She leaned in a kissed me, for a second I was too surprised to move, then my body took over and I kissed her back, my tongue deep into her mouth, and hers in mine. I took a chance and felt her hard nipples over her t-shirt, until she lifted it up and put my hand directly onto her tit, forcing me to knead and fondle it. I felt myself getting hard again.

She felt along the dock until she found a bar of white soap, they were everywhere since the divers used them to lubricate up their arms and legs before pulling on a tight-fitting wet suit. We washed each other in the cool water, it was very nice, she made sure I cleaned her tits well, then she guided my hands down to her lower back and of course, her well fucked cunt and tight ass, and she, in turn, made sure my cock and balls were clean. In this brief lull in the action, we made small talk, as if two nude people, a college boy, and a married woman, washing each other in the dark in a lake, was completely normal.

Not knowing what else to say, I asked "So...Married, huh?" Sandy kind of chuckled as she soaped my chest. "Yeah, I am. I do love my husband, but he likes to drink and then he can't get a hard-on, you don't know how difficult it is to be so frustrated!" she admitted. "Tony's not much of a fuck, but he's got a nice cock, you know?" She asked. I kind of grunted a "yea", not sure if I should admit I noticed.

She pulled me into the shallows and we sat in the soft pebbles, she soaped up my hand and asked "Have you ever fucked anyone in the ass?" I was puzzled by the question, If I was a virgin, how the heck would I have had experience with anal? Sighing, I admitted "No." She grinned. "I'll show you."

She pulled my soapy hand to her asshole, and leaning back, helped me find her tight pucker. "Start by circling the ring, working your way slowly to the center.." She moaned her approval, and continued "Then, slowly, gently find the center and push a fingertip past the muscle.."

I did, her ass felt smooth under the soap, her hole hard and unyielding, but I followed her instructions and gently worked a fingertip past her tight ring. She inhaled, and whispered into my ear "Let my body relax, then when you feel it loosen up, slowly push in deeper." Her voice was so erotic, and her directions so sensual, I felt my cock harden again and my breathing starting to quicken.

As she said, I felt the hard ring soften a bit and then pushed my lubed finger past the second knuckle until it was as deep as I could get it. She made soft cooing sounds of pleasure, holding me closer, I felt her hard nipples against my chest. I moved my finger in and out slowly until I felt things get loose again, then added a second finger. She smiled and rotated her hips in time to my finger fucking her ass until I felt like a third finger would slip in easily, it did.

She writhed and clutched me closely, gasping and breathing out slowly. I was enjoying being in control over her body like this, with only three fingers, when she said "I think I'm ready for your cock, now." I deftly slipped my condom on.

She lay back on the beach and I got between her legs, she rotated her hips up further than with Tony, and I could feel her ass teasing the head of my cock. She reached down positioned it right at her sweet little hole, and said "Slowly, let me get used to your thickness." I loved hearing that I had "Thickness".

I put pressure on her asshole and felt my cock head hit the resistance of her tightness, then slip into her as she gasped and tightened her grip on my arm. I held it for a few seconds until she told me to go ahead, then I pushed gently and felt my cock slip into the base, deep inside her.

Sandy inhaled sharply and I froze, then I felt her hips start to move and she rode my cock in and out of her ass, after a few moments I started to fuck her ass back, using long, slow strokes. It was amazing, very different that the hot wet cunt I had earlier, but something so mind-blowing and taboo about it too, I think I was feeling an orgasm rising in my brain be

Scout's Oath

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Tue, 12 May 2026 16:40:00 +0000

Scout's Oath

“To help other people at all times..”

Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at My First Time.

Jeannie was mortified.

She wanted desperately to be a member of Rho Iota Epsilon; her mother would be devastated if she wasn't. She'd endured the normal hazing, the cold showers taken while racing against the other pledges to repeat the Greek alphabet, cleaning the toilets with her toothbrush, the yelling and name calling, being woken up at night, even the embarrassing skits.

But this was too much.

She knew she shouldn't delay, that it wasn't going to get much better. There were only three people on the sidewalk in front of the building. She braced herself to make a run for it, taking one last look from her shelter behind the shrubs. A group of half-a-dozen frat brothers poured out of the entrance across the way, and she huddled down, praying they wouldn't look her way. With every minute that passed, she knew it would only get worse, as more and more students started heading to their early morning classes. Jeannie kicked herself for hesitating.

She shut her eyes tightly, fighting the tears. One lousy mistake. That's all it had taken, and now the pledge mistress had it out for her. She knew she should quit and just walk away, but she didn't want to give the bitch the pleasure. And her mother would never forgive her.

"What the hell's going on?"

She opened her eyes in shock to see a guy standing just a couple of feet away, looking her up and down. She blushed from head to toe, and he couldn't miss the fact, since the only thing she was wearing was her sandals. That, and a clipboard in one hand, a pencil tied to a string around her wrist in the other.

Jeannie hunched over, trying to cover up. "I can't say."

"Pledge?"

She nodded weakly.

He stepped closer and she trembled. Then he turned effectively blocking the view of her from quad. "You don't have to do this, you know? This is way out of line, and dangerous. They could get kicked off campus and shut down for pulling this kind of crap."

"It's not that simple."

"How long do you have to stay out here?" he asked.

"I ... I have to walk the quad circuit."

"Bullshit!" he snapped. "No fucking way."

"Please, don't interfere. I have to." Jeannie was on the verge of crying again. She'd been watching for fifteen minutes, praying for a lull in the traffic, so she could sprint around the perimeter. It was only a couple of hundred yards. Then the horror would be almost over.

The guy shook his head, and started removing his shirt.

"I can't. I can't wear anything."

He ignored her, laying the shirt over the bush beside him, then started taking off his shoes. She watched him in terror as he opened his pants.

"No. No way," she hissed. "Don't."

"Calm down," he said, folding his jeans in half and putting them beside his shirt. Then he removed his boxers and he was as naked as her.

"What are you doing?"

He smiled and extended his hand. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

She placed her hand in his, and felt the small squeeze. She resisted his pull, but he was relentless.

"Stand tall. Proud. Don't let the bastards get to you," he said. He pulled and she stepped out of her shelter, and onto the sidewalk. She bowed her head, staring at the ground in front of her.

"I'm Alex."

She allowed the stranger to pull her along, and she kept pace, with short mincing steps. "Jeannie."

"Dude! What the fuck? And who's the babe?" Jeannie glanced up to see two guys walking toward them.

Please, God. Don't let them ask about the clipboard. Please.

"This is Jeannie," her partner in nudity said. "We're celebrating National Nude Day."

The guys stopped just a few feet away, and she looked up to see them grinning. "Nude Day? For real? That's righteous," the one on the left said.

Alex put his hand around Jeannie's waist, and tugged her along. She was in shock, but followed docilely.

"Yeah. You guys should get with it. Or are you afraid to let the world see what you got?" Alex said.

"Hell yeah! I'm in." The second guy was taking off his shirt, when Jeannie passed them. "She's a keeper," one of them added.

"Stand straight," Alex whispered. "Proud. You know your sisters are watching." He reached over and took the clipboard from her hand. "What's with—"

"Stop!" she hissed. "Please don't ask. Please."

He nodded, and moved his arm from around her waist up across her shoulders. "Dicks at one o'clock," he said, sotto voce.

DKE. Jesus. That was the last thing she needed.

Three guys walked toward them, laughing. "Best walk-of-shame ever," one of them said.

Jeannie felt the tips of her ears burning. She felt his breath against the side of her face. "Ignore them," he whispered.

As they got closer, they started to spread out, leering at her.

"Figured the Dicks would be too lame to go along," Alex said, a sneer in his voice. "Cowards."

"Fuck you Hamilton," the middle one said. "We ain't 'fraid of shit. Not some pussy Sig."

"Go along with what?" the one on the left said.

"Nude Day. Flaunt it if you got it. I figured you had nothin' to show."

"Bullshit," the one on the right said. "Nude Day ain't till July."

Alex slid his arm around Jeannie's waist again, pulling her along, trying to stem her trembling. "That's National Nude Day, dickless. Today's International Nude Day. But I just bet you're looking for any excuse not to strip down and show your poor excuse for a pecker."

"You're full of crap," middle guy said.

Two of the Deltas had stopped to listen in on the conversation. Jeannie thought she would die. They were drawing a crowd. Everything she was afraid of.

Alex didn't seem to care. "Of course I am. And you three are living proof why the Dicks are the most laughed at frat on campus. The one day you can let it all hang free, and you're hiding behind your Dockers and tighty-whiteys." He nodded toward the girls. "Bet they have more balls than you." He grinned at the new audience. "It's Nude Day. I hope I'm not offending you ladies."

They giggled, and looked him over. "Not in the least," the shorter said.

"Ignore the cowards, they've got nothing to show," Alex said with a nod toward the three DKEs, and a wink at the girls.

"Fuck off, Hamilton, I got just as much as you."

"Sure you do," Alex laughed, as he tugged Jeannie along picking up the pace.

"Is it really Nude Day?" the taller of the Deltas called after him.

"All day long." He glanced backward, and Jeannie turned with him. The Delta's followed their gaze toward the naked asses of two guys who were almost to the greenway, laughing it up. They'd even picked up another nudie.

Jeannie turned back around and struggled to keep up the quick pace that Alex was setting.

"Are they doing it?" he whispered.

She looked back and was shocked to see the guys starting to undress, and struggled to suppress her laughter. She couldn't believe that one of the girls was stripping down, while the other argued with her. "How do you do that?" she said, putting her arm around her partner's waist.

"Do what?"

"Walk around like it's no big deal, naked. Like you own the world. Make it sound like they're the idiots for being dressed."

He shrugged. "I don't judge myself by how others see me, and I've got nothing to be ashamed of."

They had already covered half the distance around the quad, when Lisa, her best friend and fellow pledge came running across the quad, naked.

"Lisa!" Jeannie gasped.

"It's ridiculous that you have to do this. They're fighting like crazy in the house. The bitch is getting an earful." Lisa looked up at Alex. "Hi, I'm Lisa."

"Alex," he replied with a smile, sticking out his hand. She shook it briefly, grinning before falling in on the other side of her friend.

Alex gave Jeannie a tug to get her moving again. "So I guess you're celebrating Nude Day with us?"

Lisa walked beside the pair, taking Jeannie's hand in hers, grinning. Lisa had no issue with walking around naked. It was her favorite outfit. She'd do it all the time, if she could get away with it. "July 14th."

"July what?" Jeannie asked.

"Nude Day is July 14th. Not October." Lisa grinned, "It's a big day back home."

Alex laughed. "I guess you caught me. I figure it's close enough for our purposes."

A few more students were exiting the fraternity and sorority houses. There wasn't much foot traffic at 7:30 in the morning. There weren't that many early classes. A group of Gammas jogged over as they reached the end of the buildings on the west side of the quad.

"Hey Alex, looking good," the tall brunette in the front laughed.

"Heather," Alex nodded, smiling. "Gonna join us for Nude Day?"

The new girls fell in step as Alex kept walking, dragging Jeannie along at his side. "For real? Is that what this is about? No shit?" Heather asked.

Alex waved her over, and she stepped in beside him, opposite Jeannie. "No, I'm not gonna lie to you," he said softly, his words for her alone. "We're caught up in a pledge thing."

She nodded. "And the boy scout couldn't leave it alone."

He just grinned. "Guilty. You know me too well."

She tugged on his arm, getting him to stop. "How bad is it?"

"Nothing, really. She just has to walk the quad in her birthday suit."

Heather nodded. "Need company?"

"I think we'll be fine. I appreciate it though."

Heather turned and stood in front of him, stopping him from going any further. She looked over at Jeannie. "Rho house?"

Jeannie nodded, slightly intimidated by the gorgeous brunette.

"Sandra, I bet. She's been bragging about torturing her pledges. She's a total bitch."

Lisa spoke up. "She has it in for her. I'd a quit. Probably have to after this."

Heather looked over at the three girls with her. "Alright pledges, anyone who walks the quad naked with me is in. No more testing. Anyone up for it? No repercussions if you don't. It's a lot to ask."

"You don't have to—" Alex started, before Heather cut him off.

"You never have to; it doesn't stop you does it?" She grinned at him as she pulled her shirt off, and unsnapped her bra.

It wasn't two more minutes until Alex and the bevy of beauties were continuing their walk, the latest girls wearing nothing but their backpacks, stuffed full of their books and the clothing they'd shed.

Jeannie was still in shock at how things were turning out. She'd been terrified. Now she stood tall, walking in the crisp morning air, naked as the truth she had to face. She didn't want to be a Rho Iota Epsilon. Not after this.

Heather looked around Alex as they made the turn as the end of the frat quad, just before academic row. "You're not a quitter, are you? You're not gonna give that bitch the satisfaction of breaking you."

"Not in this lifetime," Jeannie said.

"Good. If you change your mind about where you want to belong, look me up. We need girls like you. And Gammas stick together." She looked over at where three of her own pledges were walking naked. Heather looked over at Lisa. "You too. Love that you didn't make her do it alone. Big respect for that."

Just before the Rho house, Heather stopped. "Get dressed," she announced to her pledges. Then she turned and gave Alex a big hug. "Still the best."

He grinned squeezing her tightly and making her squeal when he lifted her off the ground. "Love you, sweetie."

She held his head in her hands, and kissed him. "My once and always hero." Another brief peck and she took off her backpack and started getting dressed, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Jeannie watched, feeling a tug of jealousy she'd never expected. Then his arm was around her waist again, pulling her along. "Almost done. You gonna explain the clipboard, part?"

"Oh shit," Lisa gasped. Then she laughed, and ran the last few feet to the sorority house.

Jeannie sighed. She thought she'd get away with it. "If anyone asks me about the clipboard, I have to ask them three questions."

"Are they that bad?" Alex asked.

She took the clipboard from him, and readied her pencil. "What's your favorite type of music?"

"Hard rock," he answered instantly, without a thought.

She noted his answer on the paper. "If you could have dinner with any four people who are no longer alive, who would you choose?"

Alex took a few seconds to think that one over, as more people started to wander through the quad, eyeing the odd naked couple doing a survey.

"Jesus, Buddha, DaVinci, and my grandfather."

Jeannie looked up at him in surprise. Not the answer she was expecting. She wished she could ask him more about that, but now wasn't the time. She wrote down his answers, and looked up at him. Her hand was trembling and she felt her eyes tearing up.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

It was only the last question that mattered. That was the hazing.

Alex took the clipboard from her shaking hand, put his hand behind her neck, and pulled her forward against his body. He tilted her head back, brought his lips to hers, hesitating before they touched. He gazed into her eyes, as he completed that last half-inch, his mouth covering hers, his tongue brushing her lip. She heard the clipboard clatter against the ground, as his other arm pulled her tightly against him.

Jeannie sighed, kissing him back, feeling his hardness press against her. That hadn't been there earlier, while they were walking. Now it was a hefty presence, scaring her. She wasn't a quitter, but she didn't know if she could go through with it. Not that he wasn't interesting and handsome, but she didn't even know the guy.

When he released her, she was shaking.

"No." Then his lips brushed her again, and she felt his erection brush against her belly.

She stared at him, her forehead furling in surprise.

"No?"

"No, Jeannie. I don't want to have sex with you if that's going to force you to do something you're not ready for."

She absorbed the unexpected response. If he had said yes, she would have had to go through with it. That was the rule. Asking her to give the survey, while naked, to a random person was unfair. She knew the bitch had done it to make her quit. Even if she hadn't quit, the shame of giving up her virginity to a stranger would have been unbearable. Not following through was all the excuse the bitch needed to drop her.

She looked into his eyes, seeing the concern. "You know."

He nodded, a hint of a smile turning up the side of her cheek. "I don't know you, Jeannie. Not that I wouldn't love to get to know you. I'm not the kind of guy to take advantage of a girl in distress."

"But ... how?"

He laughed. "It's a legend around here. The sorority pledge with the clipboard. The guys have a similar thing, where the pledge has to ask questions. His pencil is on a string that goes into his pocket and it's tied to his balls. The sorority sisters all know about it, and they're supposed to take the pencil from him and tug on it. The DKEs still do it." He leaned over and kissed her softly. "Usually the question from the pledge is 'Do you want a handjob' or at worst 'Do you want a blowjob.' Any frat brother seeing that clipboard in your hand would have been all over you. None are going to pass up a good thing, especially not one that looks like you. That's why I had to take it from you." His eyes turned hard. "Your sorority sisters don't play nice. You could do better."

"My mother was president. She'll die if I don't become a Rho."

"I doubt that. I bet if you told her what they expected of you, you'd get a different response."

"You don't understand. It's all she's ever talked about, how wonderful it was, what a great group they were. Her best friends are still her sorority sisters from back then."

Alex shook his head. "Talk to her Jeannie. Don't do something you don't want to. Nothing's worth that." Then he smiled. "I think Nude Day is over. Maybe you should go in." He looked down at her naked body. "Damn, you're a pretty thing. Go, before I change my answer."

Jeannie looked around as more people were wandering the quad, giving her and Alex odd looks, and laughing. Fuck 'em, she thought.

She picked up her clipboard, and looked at the strange guy who'd come to her rescue. "Do you want to take me out?" she asked, smiling, her pencil poised over the paper.

"In a heart-beat. Nothing I'd like better."

She wrote on the paper, then tore off the bottom, and handed it to him. She stood on tiptoe and gave him a brief kiss. "Call me, boy scout."

Then she turned and ran inside the house, leaving Alex holding her phone number.

More Hazing

Inside the sorority house, all the sisters and pledges were gathered. Most broke out in applause as she entered. Jeannie turned to Sandra, the pledge mistress, and thrust the clipboard at her.

The startled Sandra took it in her hand and started reading it as Jeannie pulled on her panties. "So when are you going to fuck him?

My Sheep Girl: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Mon, 11 May 2026 12:00:00 +0000

My Sheep Girl: Part 3.

Sorting things out with my parents.

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

Now that morning had arrived, it was finally time to learn who this unknown blonde goddess really was.

The early morning sun shone in through the many cracks and holes in the weathered planks that made up the roof and siding of the dusty old barn, bathing everything inside in a dim, yellowish light. The girl was still sleeping peacefully, with her head on my shoulder and her arm draped around my chest, her breathing regular and deep and slow. Because of how she was lying, I still couldn’t see much of her face, and what I could see was largely obscured by the curly wisps of blonde hair.

It was still very early in the morning, and the world was still quiet and asleep. I lay awake in the hay for some time, listening to her breathe and enjoy the feeling of her warm, naked body against mine. As I studied the girl’s features, I realized she was not a lamb anymore. The thick woolen sweater lay discarded in the hay behind her, and of course she’d already given me her sheep’s tail after our first meeting. During the night, her headband with the lamb ears had come off, and even the black make-up had rubbed off her nose and upper lip. Like in the legend, my true love had transformed from a sheep back into a real girl.

The horse blanket lay loosely draped over our bodies, hiding her from my sight. Though I didn’t want to wake her up, I couldn’t resist taking a little peek underneath the blanket. I carefully lifted our covering and got my first view of her gorgeous young body. I wasn’t disappointed. She had the physique of a swimmer, or maybe a distance-runner. Lean, toned and extremely well proportioned. She had a small but curvy bottom with a cute pair of dimples at the base of her spine and a slim waist that gave her a pleasing hour-glass figure. I could see only part of her breasts, but I liked what I saw. The apple-sized breasts were nothing short of perfection, as I had always known they would be. They were pale, with small reddish-pink nipples that pointed slightly upward and just begged to be kissed and nibbled on

I vividly remembered how soft the smooth skin of her creamy globes had felt underneath my hands and the way her little nipples had stiffened between my lips. My cock also remembered, and was growing once again. My balls had replenished their supply of cum and my body was getting ready to have sex with the girl once more.

But, as much as I wanted to crawl between those well-toned legs and renew a few of last night’s memories, I simply couldn’t do it; my love was sleeping too lovely. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I would have all day and maybe the rest of my life to kiss and admire her. I draped the blanket back over her shoulders and gave her a kiss on her head.

With every minute that I lay there, the need to know who the girl in my arms was became stronger. I didn’t mind having to wait until she woke up to hear my love’s name, but I could not stand another moment without knowing what her face looked like. I carefully lifted her arm off my chest and wiped the curly strands from her face. The girl mumbled softly in her sleep and tilted her head a little back in reaction to my soft touch. As I lay eyes on the girl’s angelic face, my feeling of happiness turned into sheer terror. The nameless goddess I had met and made passionate love with in the dark, the girl I assumed to be my one true love, was none other than my own little sister Lizzy.

I had committed incest with my little sister! And what was perhaps even worse, I had enjoyed it immensely.

It was unreal. I didn’t even know my younger sister was going to take part in sheep-shaggin’ this year. Sure, Lizzy was old enough, but she never seemed to show any interest in boys. She always seemed to enjoy spending her evenings at home and reading her books better than going out and meet people. Every once in a while, her friends pressured her into going on a date with someone, but those dates never progressed into something more, and as far as I knew, she was still a virgin. Until tonight, that is.

Silently I cursed my luck. Not merely because I had shagged a sheep that turned out to be my sister, but mostly because I knew I had hopelessly fallen in love with her. Even now, I longed to kiss her again, to show her my love and feel loved in return. I was being tormented by the conflicting feelings inside me. Never had I met someone that made me feel like I did when I first kissed Lizzy, and never had I enjoyed making love with someone half as much as with my little sister. Sex with her was not merely physical; we had connected in a way I had never known before. Making Lizzy happy and giving her pleasure was the best feeling I ever had, better even that the carnal sensation of making love with her.

Yet, she was my little sister, and that made everything I wanted impossible. The things we had done when we were strangers in the dark were bad enough, willfully doing it with my sister would be; immoral.

Lizzy was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the unspeakable things we had done during the night. Looking at her, it wasn’t difficult to see why I had not recognized my sister in the darkness. She had left her thick-rimmed glasses at home, bleached her hair and used mom's curling iron to give her a perm like a sheep's coat. I had to admit, the result was absolutely stunning. Gone was the little bookworm and in her place was now a sexy blonde knockout, delicately beautiful, but with a killer body. Nevertheless, though Lizzy may have looked like a completely different girl, I had to accept that she still was, and always would be, my little sister. Nothing could ever change that.

I managed to disentangle myself from my sister’s limbs without waking her and crawled out of the haystack. The only way to protect Lizzy from this humiliation and possible mental trauma was to get as far away from here as possible, before she woke up. Until now, the darkness and her farsightedness had kept my identity concealed from her, but I knew my anonymity wouldn’t last another minute once she woke up, even in the early morning light. I carefully gathered all my belongings, and made sure I hadn’t left anything that might implicate me. I had to go. Now. Really.

Casting one long, last glance at Lizzy, I realized that I was about to leave behind the girl that was everything I could ever want in a woman. She was stunningly beautiful, with a body that was made to worship, but at the same time she was funny and smart and had the most caring personality; sweet, pure and innocent.

Walking away from her was perhaps the hardest thing I ever had to do. I gave my love a farewell kiss on the lips and inhaled her scent for a last time. She mumbled softly in her sleep as I kissed her, but luckily, she didn't fully wake up. Knowing I had pushed my luck as far as possible, I picked up my gear and tiptoed out of the barn.

I didn’t feel like going home, there was still too much going on in my head. For the next hour or so I roamed the coastline, climbing over the rocks and crossing the beaches as I tried to clear my head. It was to no avail. I was still troubled and confused when I snuck into the home.

It was still early in the morning, and I could really use another couple of hours rest, but I was not ready to go back to bed. I took a can of beer from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table. Last night had been both the best and worst night of my life. I had fallen in love with a girl, only to learn I could never be with her. There were literally thousands of girls on this island, and yet, the only one I wanted was my own little sister.

Then, as I opened a second can, my thoughts drifted to Amanda. I had all but forgotten about my cheating slut of an ex-girlfriend. I opened my wallet and took out her photo, the photo that had always been with me for the last three years, and I tore it in half. Next I tore up the halves and then again and again, until her picture was reduced to hundreds of tiny pieces, nothing but a heap of confetti. Feeling a little better, I put my wallet back in my pocket.

Besides my wallet, there was another object in my pocket. It was a woolly tail, the sheep’s tail Lizzy had worn under her skirt and given to me after our first meeting. I pulled the keepsake out of my pocked and let the soft fur run through my fingers while I recalled some of last night’s events. Thinking of her was mental torture, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I closed my eye, I saw Lizzy’s beautifully sculpted body and I remembered the touch and taste of her skin. Most of all, I remembered the way she had kissed me, hungrily and sincerely, and with a promise of more to come. There wasn't anything about her I didn't like, and there were so many things left to explore. If only...

I walked back to the fridge and looked inside. There was a whole six-pack waiting for me. I decided it'd be better that, instead of taking a third can of beer, I'd go upstairs and take a cold shower. Getting drunk now would be stupid and dangerous.

A little later I lay down on my bed and waited for sleep to come. The shower hadn’t done a thing to calm me down, and the alcohol hadn’t helped either. Finally, after a lot of tossing and turning, sleep came. Not much later I was roused again by the smell of bacon and coffee.

“Good morning Jethro” mom greeted me as I stumbled into the kitchen. She pulled back a chair for me and put down a plate with toast, scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me. “Dig in”

“Thanks” I groaned groggily.

She sat down opposite of me and slowly sipped from her mug of tea. I knew there was something on her mind, but she was unsure how to bring it up. “So, err; You left a bit of a mess last night” she said after a while.

“I'm sorry. I know you don't like me drinking, but I'm old enough and I’ll pay for it if you want.”

“You don’t have to pay for anything. And that’s not what I meant anyway. I was talking about the photo.”

I looked up. “Photo?”

“That picture of Amanda, torn into tiny pieces. I guess last night didn't go too well?”

“No. Not at all. I've had it with her.”

“You're breaking up with her?”

“Yes”

“Oh, my; What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it” I said, knowing full well mom wouldn't back off until I had told her the whole story. She had the tenacity of an inquisitor.

“I'm sorry Jethro. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I was thinking about breaking up with her anyway.”

“Oh, why's that?”

“I don't know; we've been drifting apart. She's changed.”

“That's too bad; She wasn't there?”

“Oh, she was there alright” I growled over my cup of coffee.

“Did you have a fight?”

“No, we didn't fight. Didn't even speak.”

“Then what happened?”

I shrugged and rolled my eyes.

“Please tell me, what happened?”

“Okay; well. So, I was out looking for Mandy, and one of the first places I looked was the pond in Jack’s grove. You know the place?”

Mom nodded.

“It’s always been one of our special places, and I really thought I would find her there. Well, sure enough, there was a lamb that looked like Amanda, and I kissed her. But when I asked, she bleated like she didn’t know me. So, I moved on and kept searching for hours.”

“Hmm; and then what happened?”

“Well, the thing is, that girl in Jacks grove, it was Amanda.”

“She was? Why would she do that?”

“I didn’t know that either, but I found out later. Before I went home, I went back to Jack’s grove, to see if I hadn’t missed her. The small pasture by the pond was packed with people. There were at least thirty guys, and Mandy was there, and so was Diane. They were both naked and having sex with all those guys, fucking two and three at a time, one after another” I blurted out.

“Oh, I'm so sorry baby” she said, hugging me tightly.

“Thanks mom.”

Suddenly I felt like crying. I missed the good old days of being a kid and not have to worry about life. The days that mom’s hugs cured every pain, and I could still play innocently with my sister without dreaming of her sweet kisses and her perfect naked body.

“I never liked that girl, Diane. I bet it’s all her doing” mom said as she sat down again.

I shrugged my shoulders and stirred my eggs.

“Remember, there are many girls that are much nicer than Amanda”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hi there,” dad greeted me as he entered the kitchen. “Wow, you look like you've had a rough night”

“He and Amanda broke up last night”

“Breaking up at Sheep-shaggin’? Are you daft?”

“Please, be a bit more sensitive, Dan”

“Why? He doesn't seem to mind it much. Anyway, all I’m saying is, if he had dumped her just one day sooner, he'd be single for Sheep-shaggin’, which is the best night to be single. I bet he could have shagged over half a dozen lambs. You know, when I was his age-”

A stern look from my mother shut him up quickly.

“I'm sorry son. You'll eventually get over her” he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I am over her.”

“Well then. Onwards and upwards, I say.”

He drank his cup of coffee and grabbed a sticky bun.

It wasn’t a lie, I honestly was over Amanda. Now I had to get over Lizzy, which might prove to be a more difficult, if not impossible task. All I could think about was my poor, sweet little sister, waking up alone in Jim’s barn. During the night, our bodies had made a promise, and I had broken it.

“Are you?” mom asked suddenly.

“Am I what?”

“Are you really over Mandy?”

“Yes!”

“Then what's eating you?”

Damn it mom, you really don't want to know.

“I err; never mind”

“Just tell me what happened, son?”

I sighed. I might as well tell her. She’d find out one way or another anyhow.

“Well; last night I met this other girl and we; you know”

“We know, don't we?” mom said, winking to dad.

“Sheep-shaggin’” he replied.

“Was this after you found out about Amanda?”

“Ehm yes; and also; before”

“Also? Like, twice?”

I nodded, blushing.

“So, you must have really liked her?”

“Yes, I did, more than I’d like to admit, but;”

“You did; Then what's the problem?”

I took a deep breath and spilled my secret.

“I err; well, this girl; it was Lizzy”

“Lizzy? Like, our Lizzy?”

I nodded. “But in my defense, I didn't know it was her at the time”

“Jethro;” mom chuckled, slowly shaking her head.

Dad was less considerate. He burst out in laughter, so hard his eyes were tearing up. “Oh boy, you really screwed the pooch this time” he snickered. “Though I must admit, son, you really have a fine taste in women. My compliments!”

Mom slapped his arm, silencing his snickering.

“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean for it to happen”

“It’s okay, Jethro. That’s sheep-shaggin’, I’m sure something like this happens a dozen times every year.”

She was probably right, as always. Who knows how many guys shagged a niece or sister in the dark, and never got to find out like I did. Why did I have to go back, and fall for her like that?

“Not like this, I mean, she; I…”

Mom sighed and nodded. She read me like a book. I didn’t have to tell her how badly I was in love with my little sister.

“Does Lizzy know it was you?”

“I don't think so. It was dark when we were, you know; intimate. And I left at sunrise, while she was still sleeping.”

“You ran off?”

“Yes, I didn’t want her to know it was me.”

“Why?”

“Because. I was scared it would upset her”

“No; You shouldn’t have done that”

“No?”

“You men…” she sighed, shaking her head. “Whatever you do Jethro, just; be careful you don’t break her heart” mom said. “She's a delicate, sweet girl and she’s had a crush on you for a really long time”

I nearly choked in my coffee. “She’s what?”

“You men are just too thick. I don't know why we keep putting up with you”

“If you need a reminder, I'll take you upstairs and explain it to you” dad suggested.

Our conversation was cut short when my youngest sister barged into the kitchen.

“Good morning” Julie greeted us.

Mom and I said hello, while dad was still gasping for air. Of course, my sister sensed there was something going on.

“What did I miss? Something happened last night?”

“Jethro sheepshagged Lizzy” dad said, unable to suppress a wide grin as he informed his youngest daughter of my nightly indiscretion.

Julie looked at me, then at mom then at me again. At sixteen, she was too young to partake in the nocturnal activities of sheepshaggin, but of course she knew what it was all about.

I nodded. “Mea Culpa”

“Oh my God! Does she know?” Julie asked wide-eyed.

“Not yet,” dad chuckled.

“Shall I go tell her?”

“Nobody's gonna tell Lizzy anything” I interjected.

“You sure? I don't think she'd mind. In fact-” Julie started to say.

”Please, don’t you start as well” I sighed.

“All I’m saying is;”

“Julie, give your brother a break” mom cut her off.

“But;”

“It’s his choice what to do. If Jethro decides to be an idiot, then we'll just have to accept that”

Once again, the argument was cut short. This time it was Lizzy who entered the kitchen.

“Hi mom, dad, Julie, Jethro”

God, she was truly beaming. I've never seen her this cheerful. Or beautiful. Also, the blond hair suited her really well, especially now that she had showered, and her hair was straight again.

It was the first time the rest of the family got to see her new looks, and the resulting barrage of compliments masked the commotion my testimony had caused earlier. Blissfully unaware of the moral quandary she was part of, she sat down.

“Well, don’t you look joyful this morning” mom said.

“Found your true love, have you?” dad added, smirking like the cat that ate the canary.

Lizzy nodded, a little embarrassed, but smiling. I noticed a few scratches on her left cheek, probably from when she slumped onto the ground after I fucked her senseless that first time by the rock wall. It reminded me to hide the cuts on my hand before she’d identify them as her own bitemarks.

“Tell us, who is the lucky boy?” He asked saccharine. His smile stayed on his face, even as mom kicked his shin under the table.

Oblivious, Lizzy sat down and continued her story.

“I don't know his name, but he is out there somewhere, and I'm sure I will find him again”

“I know you will” mom said. “Sometimes, all you need is a kiss. When I first kissed your father, I knew I’d never want to kiss another man but him.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean” she said dreamy. “You know, I didn’t even want to go on sheep-shaggin’, but I’m glad Linda made me do it. At first there were a couple of guys, but I, you know, didn’t want to. Not like that. And then I met him and when we kissed; It felt so right, everything after that just sort of happened.”

“That’s how it should be, sweetie. Just follow your heart”

“I did; but mom, how did you know it was dad?”

“Well, the next morning, I woke up in his bed; and I never went away”

Her smile disappeared. “Oh;”

“He left, didn't he?” mom asked.

“Yes; does that mean he didn't like me?”

“No, it just means that he's an idiot. But then again, all men are. I'm sure he'll realize he made a mistake soon enough”

“I hope so. I've never felt this way about someone before”

As Lizzy said this, mom looked at me. Without saying anything, she conveyed her message: You break her heart, and I'll break your legs.

“Just let the spirit of Linus be your guide, and you might find him sooner than you think”

“I will, mom” she said and kissed her on the cheek. “Love you”

“Wait; do you actually want me to be with Lizzy?” I asked once my sister was out of hearing distance.

“Sure, you'd make a cute couple”

“But she's my sister” I said in absolute bewilderment.

“Jethro,” mom sighed, “we live on an island. Almost everyone here is related in one way or another. I could name a hundred couples that are relatives. Close relatives too, and more than a few of them brother and sister, like you and Lizzy. Do you think any of that matters when you truly love someone? Heck, even our own family is so convoluted that your father and I are second cousins, and if you go back in history only two

My Sheep Girl: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sun, 10 May 2026 11:59:00 +0000

My Sheep Girl: Part 2.

She seems so familiar?

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

The girl was shivering in my arms as the cool night breeze chilled the damp skin of her back. Although I wouldn’t mind fooling around a little more, I didn’t want her to catch a cold, or worse. I was feeling around for her sweater when my hand landed on something soft and furry. Picking it up, I recognized it as the woolly tail the girl had been wearing around her waist. At some point while we were having sex, the ribbon had come undone and the tail fell off.

“You've lost your thingy” I said.

“My thingy?”

“Here” I said, giving her the furry tail.

“My lucky tail; Here, you keep it,” she whispered, “and think of me.” She handed it back to me and gave me one more kiss. After the kiss, her lips stayed near mine, as if she was hesitating. “But; If you want; I'd; really like to spend the night with you”

‘Spend the night’ didn’t mean just more sex, it also implied waking up together. It was as close to asking me who I was as was allowed. It meant I wasn’t the only one who felt something special had happened here tonight.

“Little lamb, I wouldn’t want anything else” I whispered, “But; I can’t. Not yet. There’s something I have to do first; I…” I didn’t know what to say, how could I tell this girl that I loved her, but that I first had to dump my girlfriend of three years, and not sound like a complete douchebag?

I tucked the wooly tail in my pocket and got up. We didn’t say another thing while we dressed ourselves and reluctantly got ready to part. I hesitated to let her go while her identity was still a complete mystery to me.

“I…” I started.

“Shush” she said, laying her finger on my lips. “It’s okay, I understand; But, if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you in Old Jim's barn. And please, for God’s sake, be quiet” she whispered. Then she stepped back and disappeared into the darkness. She was gone, and I missed her already. Almost immediately she reemerged and gave me one last sincerely affectionate kiss. Then she disappeared for good, and I was alone.

After I had gathered my belongings, I sat down on the rock wall and replayed her words, digesting them and making sure I remembered them correctly. Despite its obvious intention, it was a strange request. Old Jim, or uncle Jim as we called him at home, was a grumpy old bastard who was known to chase people off his property with a loaded shotgun. He was my mother’s uncle and I knew him well, so he probably wouldn’t shoot me, but the girl couldn’t know that. Why then would she ask me to go to such a perilous place? Was she testing me? Did I have to prove my valor by risking my life to be with her? Or had my rejection angered her and was she now playing a cruel trick on me?

Then another idea came to mind. What if she had chosen Jim’s barn because she knew nobody would look there but me? It was the option I liked best, but I knew there was only one way to learn her true reasons, and that was to spend the night together and ask her in the morning. It was another reason on my already long list to go there, but before I could allow myself to take one step in the direction of Old Jim’s barn, I had to find Amanda.

Suddenly, I was feeling terribly guilty. I had cheated on my long-time girlfriend. Even if Amanda turned out not to be my true love after all, I still betrayed her when I had sex with that gorgeous lamb. It was an act I disapproved of wholeheartedly, despised even, and I could not understand what had come over me to let myself go like that. What made my infidelity even worse was that I didn’t regret it, and longed to do it again. Making love with the little blonde, even as rushed and anonymous as it had been, was so much more intimate and passionate than it had ever been with Mandy. It had been everything I yearned for these last months, and much, much more.

I decided that first, I had to find Amanda and figure out my feelings for her. Only if there really was nothing worth salvaging, and I had formally broken up with her, would I allow myself to think about that other girl again. The only problem was time. I had no idea who the little lamb was or where she lived, I only knew that she would be waiting for me at uncle Jim’s barn. It meant I had to hurry if I wanted to see her again. Who knows how long an angel would wait for someone like me? Half an hour? An hour? Two?

One thing was clear; if I wasted too much time looking for Amanda, the identity of the blonde goddess would remain a mystery forever. With renewed determination to find my girlfriend, I fastened my duffel coat and hurried off into the darkness. Having already checked all the familiar places, I decided to revisit the ones I checked first, in case I had missed her before. My first stop should be somewhere nearby; a small forest known as Jack’s grove. Hidden in the heart of that dense group of trees was a little pond and next to it a patch of mossy grass. It was one of our dearest spots on the island. It was there, on that secluded pasture, that Mandy and I had made love for the first time. It was also where I had found Mandy on our first night of sheep-shaggin’, three years ago.

When I first visited that place, there was a dressed-up girl hiding by the pool. A lamb I initially thought to be Mandy, had it not been for the stale taste of cigarettes on her lips and a coldness in her kiss. While I was still undecided, she quickly broke off the kiss and a resolute bleating sealed her rejection. That was three hours ago, but it felt like years had passed since.

It took me a while to figure out where I was exactly, but then I was off. Running most of the way, I made it to Jack’s grove in under ten minutes. As I neared my destination, I heard the sound of male voices hollering in the dark. I decided to check out the source of the commotion and headed in the direction of the voices. Maybe I’d find one of my mates, or someone who might know Amanda’s whereabouts. A couple of yards ahead, I discovered the clamor of voices originated from inside Jack’s grove.

As I made my way through the trees, the hollering fell silent for a brief moment. No longer drowned out by the loud male voices, I could now hear a series of hoarse moans. It was a girl who was doing the moaning, and she sounded suspiciously much like Mandy. I could not yet see what was going on inside the clearing, but the noises that echoed in the forest left little to the imagination. The loud, lustful moaning was cut off by muffled gagging and slurping noises, and accompanied by the rapid, repetitive sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

At last, I reached the opening in the forest, and the source of the racket. As I looked through the trees, I saw the small patch of mossy grass was illuminated by the soft glow of a kerosene lamp. Carrying a lantern or flashlight was expressly forbidden by the unwritten rules of sheep-shaggin’, but I did not care about that, because it allowed me to see what was going on. There were at least thirty guys standing in a semicircle, drinking beer and scratching their balls as they gazed at the lewd display that was taking place next to the pond. Peering through the group of men, I saw a glimpse of not one, but two naked girls, one of them being Amanda. She was on all fours and had her head buried between another girl’s long, shapely legs, while some fat guy was fucking her hard from behind.

I quietly crawled through the brush to the other side of the pond and hid there in the darkness. From this position I had an unobstructed view of the action across the water. There was no mistake, the girl was Mandy. The legs wrapped around her head belonged to her new friend Diane, also known as the biggest whore on the island. I did not know the guy that was fucking my girlfriend, nor did I know either of the two Neanderthals who were having their cocks sucked by Diane. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if the girls didn’t know them either.

I had already suspected that Mandy’s friendship with Diane was partly responsible for the growing divide between my girlfriend and me. She knew I didn’t like her associating with people like Diane, and she assured me she had nothing to do with her, barely even knew her. Like all her lies, I had believed it at the time. It was only later, when Dave swore me that he himself had seen them going out together, getting drunk and having fun with guys in bars that I started to doubt her words.

Now there was no doubt anymore. She claimed she hardly knew Diane, yet here I was, less than twenty feet from my whoring soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, watching her lick Diane’s hairless pussy like it was made of ice cream. I had no idea Mandy even had any lesbian or bisexual appetites, but it was obvious Amanda was well versed in the art of eating pussy. She was slurping lustfully on Diane’s clit and fingered her sloppy hole at the same time. Her friend was grabbing handfuls of hair and moaned loudly whenever her mouth wasn’t filled with one or more cocks.

All this time, the nameless fat guy was pounding away at Mandy’s pussy. His bloated, hairy belly slammed against her ass with smacking sounds that reverberated in the forest. After another minute of this brutal fucking, the man bellowed that he was going to cum. He slammed into Mandy’s ass one last time and then clenched his butt as he flooded her canal with his sperm. Amanda didn’t even look up as the guy came inside her, she just kept lapping and sucking Diane’s pussy.

When he was completely spent, the guy withdrew his wilting cock, pulled up his pants and staggered away. A flood of his slimy semen gushed from Mandy’s inflamed pussy and oozed down her legs. Judging from the amount of cum already dripping down her thighs, this man wasn’t the first to unload inside her tonight. Nor would he be the last.

Right then, one of the guys who Diane was blowing grunted a few words and yanked his cock from her lips. He pumped his fist up and down his shaft a couple of times and then poured a dozen squirts of cum into her wide-open mouth. Then he too tucked his cock back in his pants and stumbled back to his mates in the pasture. Meanwhile, the other guy was also jacking off and within a couple of seconds he too ejaculated into Diane’s gaping mouth. After he had added his load to that of the first guy, Diane closed her mouth and got up.

With her mouth full of cum, Diane pulled Mandy up on her knees. She grabbed Mandy’s head and, while the crowd was going insane, let the slimy cum drip from her lips. Amanda opened her mouth and let her friend feed her the double dose of cum straight from her mouth. The girls kissed and swapped back and forth the large mouthful of sperm until Mandy swallowed it all. She then proudly presented her empty mouth to the audience, and promptly called out to the crowd for more men to fuck her.

A new guy walked up to the girls and dropped his pants. I knew the guy, a total asshole. The girls couldn’t care less about his personality, they only had eyes for the big, throbbing, pre-cum drooling erection he offered them. They both jumped at it, but it was Mandy who won. She gobbled up his cock and really went to town on it. Diane, formerly the biggest slut on the island, was forced to play second fiddle to her friend and pupil. All she could do was lick the guy’s balls and asshole, and hope Mandy wouldn’t have sucked him dry before she had her chance to blow his cock. To add injury to insult, while my cheating slut ex-girlfriend was slobbering on the asshole’s cock, a second guy grabbed her ass and rammed his cock in her sodden pussy.

With Mandy being fucked from both ends and having no cock inside her herself, Diane was feeling left out and she also called for more guys, practically ordering the audience to come and fuck her. A small group of volunteers emerged from the crowd and not much later she was sucking cock, bouncing up and down in another guy’s lap while a third guy fucked her ass. With all her holes stuffed and her role as top slut somewhat restored, Diane was happy again. The audience was cheering wildly as the five men proceeded to fuck the girls in all their holes.

I gazed at the depraved spectacle for maybe fifteen minutes while I was trying to digest this new information and decide what to do next. I figured I had only two options; either make my presence known and give Amanda a piece of my mind, or just leave and forget about her. As I watched her thirstily gulp down another load of cum and then hoarsely call out for more, I decided to take the second option. Making a scene would be humiliating, risky even, and utterly pointless.

Besides, I really didn’t care that much anymore. I had seen how my cheating girlfriend was being passed around like a 5-dollar whore and cummed in by one guy after another. There was no doubt as to whether she was participating willingly. Whenever Mandy’s mouth wasn’t on a cock or pussy, she was asking for more guys to fuck her ass or pussy and ordering them to fill her holes with cum.

I also understood now that the girl I had met here earlier had indeed been Amanda after all. She undoubtedly had known who I was when I kissed her, and she chose to reject me. Maybe it was at that moment that she decided she didn’t want me anymore, or, more likely, she and Diane already had their little gangbang prearranged, and she didn’t need me hanging around. Frankly, it didn’t matter, I had seen enough.

The sounds of Mandy’s infidelity were fading quickly as I distanced myself from Jack’s grove. My feet carried me away aimlessly, and soon I was completely alone again, surrounded by silence and darkness. Once again, my path was cut off by one of the low rock walls and again I had to decide where to go. But this time, before I could pick a direction, I first had to determine my destination.

I sat down on the hard, cold rocks and tried to make up my mind. There was a lot to think about and I had to clear my head a bit before I made any rash decisions. I had set out to find Amanda, and I had found her. Seeing her and discovering her true nature, didn’t make me feel angry. I didn’t even feel betrayed. I already didn’t want her anymore before I even entered Jack’s grove. If I felt anything, it was relief that our decaying relationship was truly and undeniably over.

I pushed my hands in my pockets and let the furry tail slide between my fingers. The little keepsake was the only evidence I had that the encounter wasn’t a dream, that the girl was real and the time we enjoyed together really happened. The girl’s whispered request to meet her in Old Jim's barn was firmly etched in my mind. At the time I couldn’t take her up on her offer, but now that I had declared myself single again, I was morally allowed to see her, and even spend the rest of the night together. Maybe I should just go there to see if the girl was really waiting for me.

I really, desperately wanted to be with her again. Not just for more awesome sex, but to hold her in my arms, smell her hair and kiss her lips. And of course, to spend the night together and get properly acquainted after sunrise.

At the same time, there was another voice inside my head, warning me that it might not be the best idea to rush into another relationship just yet. While I couldn’t ignore the fact that there was wisdom to that voice, the idea that I might lose the only chance I had to find out who the lamb really was, scared me. It was almost an hour already since we parted. Bad idea or not, I just had to go back to her, back to Old Jim’s barn.

But, where the hell was I?

Not surprisingly, I was once more completely surrounded by darkness. I knew that behind me was a hayfield and on the other side of the rock wall border there appeared to be an empty meadow. I could see the stars in the sky above me, and far away in the distance a few buildings, but no recognizable landmarks. I climbed over the wall and continued my hike in the direction of the houses. Maybe I’d know where I was when I got there, or else there would be a road that would lead me back to civilization. I made my way through the knee-high grass until I arrived at a barbed wire fence. As walked along the fence, I had an almost religious experience.

The building I was heading for was none other than Old Jim's barn. Fate, or maybe the spirit of Linus, had guided my feet directly back to my little lamb. There was only one thing I could do. I hopped over the fence and tiptoed towards the big old shed.

Uncle Jim was probably asleep, and I happened to know that his aging watchdog was practically deaf. Still, the dog could see well, even in the dark, and his sense of smell wasn’t bad either. I knew that as long as I kept quiet enough not to wake either Jim or the dog, I should be reasonably safe. A few nervous seconds later, I had made it across the yard and reached the barn. My heart was pounding in my throat as I pushed open the big door.

Inside the barn it was even darker than outside. I whispered into the darkness, announcing my arrival and closed the door behind me. Though there was no reply, I had the uneasy feeling that I was being watched. Then I heard a noise behind me, and as I turned around, the silhouette of a girl leaped into my arms. Even though I was quite startled to say the least, I caught her mid-air. She had covered my entire face with kisses before her mouth found mine and her tongue snaked between my lips. Her sweet kisses were like a drug to me, and the longer we kissed, the more I wanted to keep kissing her. The increasing need for oxygen made us break it off eventually.

“Little lamb, could you really be my true love?” I whispered after I got my breath back.

“Maybe;” she replied, and gave me another peck on the lips. “Yes”

She took me by the hand and led me deeper into the barn. She must have spent some time exploring before I arrived, as she appeared to be quite familiar with the interior of the barn. It was utterly dark in here, as even the faint light of the stars was mostly blocked by the tattered roof, yet the girl effortlessly maneuvered us past empty stables and old farm equipment. I couldn’t help but feel a little pride swelling inside my chest as I imagined the girl roaming the barn while she was waiting for me, preparing herself for another encounter with her true love.

My little lamb carefully guided us through the darkness to our destination, which turned out to be a haystack. She halted and turned around. I bumped into her and she caught me in her arms.

“We’re here” she whispered.

She undid my coat and let it fall on the ground. Then she took my hands and sank down into the soft hay. I moved with her and sat down next to her. We both knew we had the entire night ahead, and despite our mutual desires, there was no rush. I couldn’t be happier. Being with this girl was all I wanted, for as long as possible.

All my thoughts, all my hopes and wishes revolved around the girl, yet I still didn't have a clue who she really was. All I knew was that she was about 7 or 8 inches shorter than me, with a willowy physique and a head full of blond, curly hair. This only narrowed it down to a couple of hundred girls on the island. I still couldn't ask her name, but there was no rush. There was a time for talking and a time for making love, and this wasn't the time for talking.

We made out in the hay for a long time. I couldn’t get enough of her kisses and her hot, supple body. While our tongues dueled, my hands sneaked underneath her thick wool sweater and ventured into the enticing territory hidden below. Her soft skin was radiating with heat, burning my fingers as I felt her up. Inch by inch I caressed my way up from her waist, dragging her sweater up as I went. As I reached her shoulders, I had her upper half almost naked. Finishing the job for me, she pulled it over her head and sent it flying. Like before, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and again I cursed the darkness that prevented me from ogling her treasures. Like a blind man, I reached for her chest and cupped my hands around her pert little breasts and studied them by touch.

I squeezed and kneaded her supple female flesh. The delightfully full and firm breasts were barely a handful, but they were hers, and I didn’t want them any other way. I could feel her erect nipples as they poked into the palm of my hand as I caressed the soft skin. I let my fingers trace around the puckered nubs and over the tiny bumpy areolas surrounding them. Her nipples were small, but they were firm and perfect for sucking and nibbling. Though I didn’t know what she looked like, I was sure I could make a perfect sculpture of her face and body.

My half-naked lamb was dry humping me as I explored and teased her with my fingers. She was already hot and willing, but I wa

My Sheep Girl: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sat, 09 May 2026 11:58:00 +0000

My Sheep Girl: Part 1.

I found true love while participating in one of my hometown’s little known, but deeply cherished local traditions.

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

Island folklore.

Hi, I'm Jethro, I’m nineteen years old and I live with my parents and two younger sisters on one of the small islands off the east coast of Ireland. Although, to be truthful, that’s where I used to live, as I'm currently spending most of my days on the mainland, attending university. But the island will always be home to me and once I’ve graduated, I’ll surely go back. There's just something special about life on a small, isolated island like ours that simply can’t be found anywhere else.

Until the day I’ll return to the island for good, I can only try to visit home as often as I could, which is nowhere near as often as I wanted. You see, merely driving from the campus to the harbor would take at least four hours. If traffic was heavy, five or six hours was more likely. And that was just the first part of the journey. From there on, the only way to the island was by a three-hour boat trip. Weather permitting, this boat shuttled back and forth three times a day. Bad weather, however, was liable to keep the ferry moored at the harbor for days at a time, especially during the stormy autumn and winter months.

While this remoteness was a bit of a pain to me now, the isolation was also what made our island unique, and is therefore essential to the story I am about to tell you.

As you can imagine, our community is largely self-reliant and very much independent of the mainland. It’s been like that for centuries, and even modern technology had not been able to change that. According to the tourist board, our 'picturesque island' houses about 19,000 people, and over 50,000 sheep that roam the fields and forests. Apparently, we are ‘known for our own unique and age-old traditions', most of which are in some way connected to our ‘long lineage of brave fishermen’ and dedicated to ‘the men who sailed stormy seas to bring home nothing but the finest fresh fish’.

While most of our local festivities do indeed involve the sea and its bounties in one way or another, one was quite unlike all the others. That particular day is known as Linus Day, and it is probably the most cherished of all our traditions. Linus Day is celebrated each year on the day of the first new moon in spring and got its name after a nobleman that featured in one of the local legends. It was because of this holiday that I had decided to skip my classes and visit home for a couple of days.

The Legend of Linus.

A long time ago, there lived on the island a man named Linus. As the story goes, he was a wealthy nobleman who had everything his heart could desire. Good looks, lots of money, a luxurious home and scores of friends. His good fortune seemed complete when he met a beautiful girl with a smile that brought sunlight to a rainy day. He quickly fell in love with her and within weeks of their first meeting, he asked her to be his wife. She gladly accepted his proposal and a huge wedding feast was announced. Everyone on the island was invited.

Unknown to Linus, his fair young fiancée wasn't the only one who had fallen for his handsome looks and charming personality. There was another woman, one who was deeply scorned when she learned of his betrothal. On the evening before the wedding, this other woman paid the nobleman an unannounced visit. She warned him that his fiancée was not his true love, and that he should marry her instead. When Linus replied that she was mistaken and that there was nothing she could do to change his mind, the woman burst out in anger. In a fit of rage, she summoned the ancient spirits and put a curse on the bride-to-be.

Before storming out the door, the enraged woman swore that if Linus did not call off the wedding, his bride would be turned into a sheep and be cursed to roam the island among the other animals for the remainder of her life. Only if Linus could prove his love for the girl was true, would he be able to lift the curse.

Linus was a judicious man and in too good a mood to let the woman’s angry ravings ruin his day, and quickly forgot the entire incident. However, the next morning, on the day of the wedding, the young bride was reported missing. The townsfolk searched the whole island and left no stone unturned, but the girl was nowhere to be found. It was then that Linus recalled the woman's angry words, and fear struck his heart. He ran into the fields and scrutinized every herd on the island, desperately looking for his lost fiancée among the sheep. He searched all day, but the animals all looked and sounded the same. Devastated, he returned home.

Before long, people started talking about the nobleman's increasingly eccentric behavior. He hired a dozen huntsmen and ordered them to shoot all the wolves and wild cats on the island. Once that was done, he had all his lands converted into pastures and bought many acres more, only to let them lay unoccupied, except for a few flocks of sheep. He subsequently declared that no-one on the island was to ever lay a finger on the animals and assured the people he would repay all damages caused by them.

Even his friends and family believed he had lost his mind when Linus then sold his wealthy home and became a shepherd, living in a wooden shed. The years went by and the nobleman spent a fortune doing everything he could to protect the island’s ever-growing population of sheep. His resources were diminishing fast, but still he managed to feed and shelter the animals throughout one of the longest and harshest winters the people on the island had ever witnessed. At last springtime arrived, and on the night of the first new moon he lay in his shack, alone, cold and hungry. He had lost absolutely everything, every penny he owned, his mansion and his scores of friends. Everything but his looks and the thousands of animals he cared so deeply for.

On that first moonless night in spring, though he himself was starving, he gave his last piece of bread to one of the sheep that took refuge with him in the shack. Then, as he watched the animal devour the dry morsel of bread, it suddenly shed its thick coat and from under the layer of wool emerged a beautiful young woman. It was none other than his long-lost fiancée, his one true love. By sacrificing absolutely everything he had, Linus had finally managed to lift the curse.

Reunited at last, Linus and his fiancée were married the very next day. The news quickly spread throughout island and the townsfolk now arranged to host a feast for the impoverished nobleman and his beautiful bride. Together they built them a new house in the fields, where the couple lived happily ever after. Linus and his wife had six children, all beautiful girls with blonde, curly hair like that of a newborn lamb, a trait that was still prevalent on our island to this day.

As the story goes, it was this legendary wedding feast that the people hosted for the nobleman and his wife that evolved into the local holiday now known as Linus Day, and it is still dedicated to that ancient couple's true love.

Although you won't find it mentioned in any of the tourist board's leaflets, the legend of Linus was also linked to another, more obscure, but equally cherished tradition. This tradition was commonly referred to as Sheep-shaggin’.

On the evening before Linus Day, all the young and unmarried women would dress up as sheep and hide in the woods or fields. Then, as soon as the sun had set, the men would go out as well. If they were in a relationship, it was their task to find their girlfriends and if they did, their love was supposedly destined to be true.

The festival of sheep-shaggin’ was arguably even better for those who were not in a committed relationship. If you were a single guy, tradition allowed you to go into the forest and have sex with as many dressed-up girls as you could find. All night long, all single and willing females were considered fair game. And better still, the complete darkness of the new moon and absence of electric lights practically ensured complete anonymity, if that's what you desired. It was understood that even a total loser could get lucky on sheep-shaggin’.

Me, I was not a total loser and furthermore, I was in a serious, albeit waning, relationship. This night, like every other sheep-shaggin’ for the last three years, my girlfriend Amanda was somewhere out there waiting for me, but tonight I had not been able to find her. I had been searching the dark woods and desolate fields for ages and looked for her in all the places that used to mean something to us, yet I was still wandering alone. I had run into several dressed-up girls in various locations, but none of the lambs proved to be my true love.

In a way, it was indicative of our relationship; I just did not know what Mandy was thinking anymore. After we finished high school almost a year ago, I left the island to attend college while she chose to stay behind and find a job. Although we telephoned almost every day and I did my best to be with my girlfriend as much as possible, our relationship had been going downhill ever since. Especially over the last few months she had changed, becoming more and more detached from me. Whatever remained between us now was purely physical. I mean, the sex we had was still great, but at times it felt more like she was an escort than a girlfriend.

A month ago, my friend Dave told me that he had heard that Mandy was making new friends and seeing other guys. A few days later I had confronted her, and we had a big fight, during which she vehemently denied the accusation. The subsequent make-up sex was spectacular, and maybe I was a bit too eager to believe her after that. But it didn't seem so far-fetched to me now. In fact, it would explain a lot.

It was pitch dark. The only light around was from the few ships far away on the ocean and the millions of tiny stars above me. A gentle breeze rolled in from the sea, dragging thin, ghostly shards of fog into the valleys. I was shivering. Although the vast stretches of water surrounding the island provided us with moderate temperatures all year round, it was quite chilly tonight. It was unlikely anyone would be hiding here on these inhospitable beaches, least of all Mandy, who absolutely despised the cold. I left the dewy shores behind me and directed my search more inland. As I moved on to higher grounds, the climate improved greatly, but still I couldn’t seem to shake off the cold.

It wasn’t the weather though, that caused my discomfort. The duffle coat I was wearing was thick enough to keep me warm, but no amount of wool could keep the chill from my heart. What I really needed to fend off the cold were a loving pair of arms around me, and a supple, warm body to cuddle and caress. Unfortunately, apart from those few twinkling lights far away on the ocean, there wasn’t a single sign of human life around.

As I strode on, the dead silence of the night was broken by the sound of church bells tolling in the distance. It was twelve o’clock, which meant I had fruitlessly traversed the fields and forests for some two hours now. Who knows what would happen tonight. Spending this much time searching the island was proof of my love for Mandy, right? And maybe when I finally kissed her lips, she'd turn back into the girl I used to know and forever be my true love.

On the other hand, if it didn't happen tonight, we might as well break up. Part of me was already willing to accept that I wasn’t going to find her and take it as a sign that Mandy was not my true love after all. Though the idea of going home surely was tempting, it wasn’t in my nature to quit this easily. I could not give up the search until I had examined every place that had some kind of special meaning or memory to us, no matter how insignificant. I pushed my hands deeper into my pockets and walked on, feeling more and more morose and pessimistic with every step I took.

Another hour later, I was just about to throw in the towel. I had checked every site I could think of that had some memory attached to it, and for the last twenty minutes I had been wandering around aimlessly. I knew it was time give up, go home and seriously rethink our relationship. But which way was home? Looking around, I had to admit that I was lost. All I knew was that I was in the middle of a large hayfield, surrounded by a vast, empty darkness. With no recognizable landmarks anywhere in sight, the only thing I could do was to keep walking and hope to eventually stumble across some point of reference to point me home.

As I cut across the field, my path was blocked by one of the old rock wall borders that haphazardly divided up the fields. With no particular direction to go, I walked along the border to wherever it was leading. A couple of hundred yards further on, I saw something moving in the darkness, something grey or white. By now, most of the girls would have been taken home by their lovers, whether old or new, and only a girl who was truly dedicated to her love would still be around. The figure seemed to be a little too big to be a stray sheep, it could be a dressed-up girl. Who knew, maybe this time I was lucky.

As I closed in on the creature, the sound of my footsteps alerted it to my presence. The way it moved was like a girl, not like a sheep. With new hope, I walked toward the girl. A soft, hesitating bleat soon confirmed my suspicion as she greeted the stranger approaching her from the dark. I was still a couple of feet away, but I already knew this girl wasn’t Mandy. She had the right kind of curly blond hair, but her girlish figure was too small, too lithe and her voice too soft and kind. I bend over and kissed her anyway. Her lips were soft and warm. Her scent and the touch of her lips made me thirst for more. Sadly, our kiss ended all too soon.

I held the girl in my arms, delaying the moment I had to let go of this little lamb and head back into the cold and lonely darkness. I really wished this lamb was the girl I was looking for. Though I had no idea who she was, I felt a strange connection with her. If I wasn’t supposed to be looking for someone else, I would have loved to stay. The girl must have thought the same thing, because as I was hesitating to let her go, the blonde pressed her lips once more against mine and gave me another kiss. A little shy she opened her mouth and licked my lips. Knowing I shouldn’t, I opened my mouth anyway.

Had that first kiss merely been a traditional and rather impersonal greeting, this second kiss was something completely different. Tender. Intense. Playful. Inquisitive. Sensual.

It is hard to describe how much I enjoyed kissing this girl. But, although our second kiss lasted a whole lot longer than the first, it too had to end sometime, whether I wanted it to or not. When our lips disconnected, my head was spinning and my search for Amanda suddenly seemed a lot less important than before. Before she released me from her embrace, the girl gave me one last peck on the lips. Then she got down on all fours again, and went back to her role as a sheep, like she was supposed to.

“Little lamb, could you be my true love?” I asked the customary question.

I was unsure of how she would react. I didn’t even know how I wanted her to react. Had she been my true love, she would now get on her feet and take off her costume, then whisper “yes” and kiss me once more. If she was waiting for someone else, then she'd look away and bleat again. Secretly, I was hoping for option number three. If this girl was single and willing, she would now present me her rear for some more anonymous, casual fun.

The girl remained silent. Still on all fours, she hesitated for a few moments and then, finally, she moved. My heart rejoiced as she turned around; not only was the girl still single, she was single and willing. Even though I couldn’t accept what she had to offer, it was a relief to know that somewhere on this island there was a sweet girl that wanted me. She brushed impatiently against my leg, like a playful lamb. As if her intentions weren’t clear enough, she then grabbed my hand and placed it under her skirt, between her legs.

I wavered. The smooth skin of her inner thigh was soft and warm, and it felt dangerously good. The only thing that kept me from ravishing this lovely little lamb on the spot was a deep-rooted moral obligation to my girlfriend. For a guy in a relationship, kissing other girls was permissible during sheep-shaggin’, but anything beyond that was still considered cheating. But what if I wasn’t in a relationship anymore? It would be a shame if I passed up this lovely lamb because of a misplaced sense of loyalty to a girlfriend who was nowhere to be found tonight. A girlfriend who I was just about finished with anyway, and who in all likelihood had been cheating on me for weeks, if not months.

I was fighting a losing battle with myself. The frustrations of this long, lonesome night and the doubt that had grown over the last months got the better of me. I knew the right thing was to stay faithful to Mandy and leave before I did something I’d regret later, but no matter how hard my conscience was ordering me to stop, I simply couldn't. There was something about this sexy little lamb that held me captivated. It was like the spirit of Linus was whispering to me, telling me that this girl and I belonged together.

While my conscience was still battling my carnal desire for this girl, my hand had begun moving on its own, drawn like a magnet towards that wonderful place high up between her legs. I was so close to her pussy now, I could feel the heat radiating from it. The lamb bleated impatiently and spread her legs even more, granting me full access to her fiery sex. As she was moving, I felt something tickle my wrist. I knew it was something other than her skirt, but didn’t have the time to find out what it was, because an instant later my fingers encountered a downy patch of hair and then a very, very aroused pussy. She gasped as my thumb slid between the slick and delicate female petals and traced her little treasure from the tiny bead of her clit to the tight hole beneath her puckered ass.

She pushed back against my hand and gently rocked her hips as I played with her pussy. While my hand moved up, her ass moved down and the tip of my thumb lodged itself into her opening. While I was still hesitating, she immediately pushed back, and her vagina hungrily accepted the intruding digit. She was tight but wet, and I entered her smoothly. My thumb was enveloped by her moist heat. I pulled it out a little and then pushed back in, gently squeezing her juicy peach between my fingers.

The girl groaned sexily as I explored and played with her pussy. Getting her this horny was in itself very gratifying, but I knew it was only a prelude to what the night held for us. By now, there was only one thing on my mind, and that was bringing this nightly encounter to a mutually satisfying end. I was determined to give us a good start by making her cum first. Guided by her reactions, I quickly learned what excited her most. When I slowly pushed my thumb in and out of her pussy and rapidly rubbed her swollen clit with my finger at the same time, I knew I had struck gold. Her moaning quickened and then she bucked her hips as her orgasm took control of her body.

The way her tight pussy had been squeezing my thumb when she came was unreal. I could only imagine how incredible it would feel to have those muscles work on my cock. I could take her right now if I wanted, while she was still in the throes of her climax. All I had to do was drop my pants, aim for penetration, and we’d be fucking. As much as I looked forward to doing exactly that, something was holding me back. It wasn’t my girlfriend. It was the notion that this girl was special, someone who deserved much more than a rushed, anonymous shag in the dark. While I couldn’t do much about the anonymous part, there was nothing that could stop me from taking my time with this girl.

Knowing I was going to have sex with the lamb in due course, I first sought to taste her kiss again. I kneeled down next to her and pulled her into my arms. She was still panting when our lips met, but as my tongue slipped between her lips, it was eagerly greeted by her own. She truly was a great kisser. She displayed a tenderness and enthusiasm that I just couldn’t get enough of, and despite us being complete strangers, her kisses had the distinct taste of something I had been missing for a long time; genuine desire and sincere affection.

After another lengthy and passionate kiss, I was starved for air and feeling drunk on the little lamb’s lips. I opened my eyes, half expecting to be greete

Sister Agnes, In Heaven: Part 3

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Fri, 08 May 2026 16:29:00 +0000

Sister Agnes introduces a virgin choir boy to Heaven.

In 3 parts, based on a post by ElsieThompson. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

"We'll go to my house for the rest of the night," said Melody. Agnes and the Three Amigos followed her to a small stone house along the dirt street of the village. Inside was a single room with an overlooking loft. A fireplace was at the center of one wall, crude kitchen cupboards and a dining table were at the other. Cushions and pillows were scattered around the floor. "Burt and Melody, the Mayor and his wife, live no better than I do," thought Agnes. "Equality is the norm here. I like that."

Agnes stood uncomfortably at the center of the room, surrounded by the three naked men and Melody, equally naked. Harry, the short Asian, took command. He wrapped his arms around Agnes and kissed her passionately on her lips and pulled her hand down to his erect cock. She explored the length of his cock with her hand.

Harry pulled his lips away from her. "Did that feel good?"

"Oh, yes," she said, eager for more kissing, more exploration."

Dick's turn," Harry answered. "If that's okay with you."

"Yes," she said again as middle-sized Dick pulled her to him and, this time, her hand found his cock without assistance. It was another long kiss, and his tongue went into her mouth and she stroked his cock.

"My turn," said Tom, She broke away from Dick and closed with Tom, who was so tall that she had to stand on her toes to reach his face. He lifted her off her feet, put his hands beneath her hips, and she curled her legs around him and felt is cock probing her cunt; but only barely, and she felt the uncircumcised skin moving back and forth, caressing her.

"Don't forget me," said Melody. "I'm not just a potted plant standing here."

Tom lowered Agnes to her feet and stepped away. Melody dropped to her knees and pulled Agnes to her. Harry stood behind her, kissing her neck and ears and tweaking her nipples with his hands.

Tom lowered Agnes to a cushion on the floor and cradled her head in his lap, his hands over her tits. Melody crouched over Agnes, put her head between Agnes's legs and continued to suck her. Harry stood behind Melody and, holding his cock in his hand, inserted it.

"Where?" Agnes wondered. "Her cunt or her asshole?"

He stroked back and forth.

"Where do I fit in her?" asked Dick. He knelt down on his knees at Agnes's side and his cock hovered over her face. "Have you ever had one of these in your mouth?" he asked.

"No," she answered, "but I guess I had better try it." She used a free hand to guide Dick into her mouth. It tasted clean and dry and she explored its tip and up and down its length with her tongue and mouth but gagged when it entered her throat.

"Sorry," said Dick. "I won't do that again."

"It's okay," said Agnes, catching her breath. "I need to learn how to do, uh, blow jobs." The words came out of his mouth with difficulty.

"Practice makes perfect," Dick answered. "You can look forward to Tom's dick. Now, that's a mouthful!"

"I can feel it pressing against my neck," Agnes said with a laugh. "It feels like a log back there." She took Dick into her mouth again;

"This girl is a comedian," said Harry.

"I was sometimes accused of frivolity when I was in the nunnery," said Agnes, taking Dick out of her mouth. "I wasn't really a very good nun, but I tried to be."

"I perceive a long and beautiful relationship for you with the Three Amigos and Melody; and everybody else in Heaven."

"I can hardly wait to expand my horizons," Agnes said sarcastically.

"Back to the business at hand." She took Dick in her mouth again and began licking with her tongue.

Melody lifted her head from Agnes's crotch. "Are you liking what I'm doing to you or do you want one of the guys to fuck you?"

"I am feeling just fine," said Agnes. "Your mouth is going to make me cum very soon. Is that okay?"

Agnes spread her legs wider to take Melody's ministrations deeper; her nipples were hard and throbbing from the touches of Tom's hands, and Harry resumed his rhythmic stroking of Melody's asshole. She moved in impassioned concert with the others, thrills racing through every muscle. "My God," she thought, "I never imagined that Heaven would be so exciting." The two hot women, while locked into Sapphic comforts, were keeping all three of them. the young men pleasured.

"I'm going to cum," said Dick. He was hunching back and forth, driving to every part of the sexy uncloistered nun's mouth. Her lips clamped down on it to increase the pressure and with a convulsion, she felt the hot cream inside her mouth and quickly swallowed the load, down her throat. She tasted the saltiness of it with her tongue.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Agnes screamed, "Now I'm going to cum. "Melody, hands under Agnes's hips were raising her off the floor, driving her tongue deep into the wetness of her cunt. Agnes's body shook with excitement, her vaginal walls radiated nerves in every direction, and she could have sworn that her tits, stroked by Tom, were lactating and spraying milk in a long arc upward. Her toes and fingers tingled. She fought for breath, trying to swallow the sticky sperm in her mouth, but feeling it dribbling out of her mouth.

"It's my turn now!" said Melody. She raised her head from Agnes's cunt and slid it along her milky-wet stomach as Harry's cock pounded her from behind. She grasped around Agnes' torso in her hands for support and Agnes felt her body shake as she climaxed, and Melody, pressed into her chest, her hot breath on Agnes's tits.

When it was all over, Melody, Agnes, and the Three Amigos all lay side by side on the cushions and pillows in a contemplative, peaceful, and quietly euphoric after-sex state of mind.

Sexy Agnes, no longer an 80 year old, was enjoying the prime of her early 30s and sporting the hot body she had suppressed during the seventies sexual revolution.

Tom spoke first. "I seem to be the only one here who hasn't had an orgasm yet. How about it, Agnes? How about a conventional fuck? Missionary style? Or something more exotic?”

Agnes had slid further toward Tom's knees during her climatic convulsions She turned her head and looked upward toward the tower of his large, erect cock, and briefly worried that it wouldn't fit into her. "Give me a moment," she said. I'm too tired to do more than lay here."

Melody rose to her feet. "I'm starving. Come with me, Dick and Harry; leave Tom and Agnes alone and help me fix some dinner." Dick and Harry stood up and followed her into the primitive kitchen, in her house. She lit candles for light and stoked the ashes of her primitive stove. Flames made flickering patterns against the stone walls.

"I'm ready now," said Agnes. Tom rolled over on top of her and joined her. Before responding to him, Agnes said to Melody, "Save some food for me. And thank you for inviting me to meet the Three Amigos."

Sister Agnes introduces a virgin choir boy toHeaven.

In the mid-morning sun, Aden's newest resident was tending her garden with the energy of her prime, and a body of near-perfection

"Hello, Agnes."

Sister Agnes looked up from where she was kneeling in her own vegetable garden. It was the spirit of Burt, Mayor of Heavenly Aden. It was hot and she wore only a pair of shorts and a sleeveless blouse. Burt was shirtless. His hands were soiled with dirt. "Hello, Burt," she answered. "Welcome!" She stood up, rubbed her hands together to clean off the dirt, brushed strands of light brown hair out of her eyes, and walked over to where he was standing at the edge of the garden. Sweat streaked her cheeks.

"Melody tells me you're doing great. I came out to see for myself." Melody was Burt's buxom and bubbly wife.

"Things are going well." She looked around at her vegetable garden with pride.

"You've been here for three months now? I've seen you at Friday Fuckfest. I apologize for not paying more attention to you." Burt ensured his re-election every year by careful attention to the needs of his three hundred constituents. With the enthusiastic support of Melody, they operated on the maxim of "No spirit unfucked." Burt had apparently not perceived that Agnes needed his sexual attention.

"Melody has been wonderful showing me around; and we've had some good times together."

“So, I hear; and with the Three Amigos! Are you enjoying the sex?" Burt smiled happiness. Sex, she had learned, was a common subject of discussion in the blissful reality of Heaven.

Agnes blushed. "It's been wonderful. I've met so many nice people. I was up-tight at the beginning, but I loosened up. I even volunteered for "Y'all Come" at the last Fuckfest.”

“How was it?”

“Ten men came to me. They all came." she snickered.

"Here! You're a popular woman. I look forward to enjoying you. But I'm here with another task for you.

Agnes was disappointed. She thought he had come out to her house to see her for some mid-day siesta sex; and she was willing. Sex was a requirement at the Friday Fuckfest, but optional and voluntary at other times. Agnes had sampled a few men between Fuckfests. Life, in heaven was sensual. Sex was casual. The suppressed sexual tension of earthly society had melted away.

"We have a new arrival today, and you're the best person to greet him and introduce him to our community."

"With pleasure," she responded. Agnes welcomed opportunities to be useful. "Once a nun, always a nun," she thought.

"He's a problem. He's eighteen years old and was killed in an automobile accident on earth."

"Eighteen," she grimaced to herself. "Why me? Wouldn't one of our eighteen-year-old girls be better at this than me?"

"Oh, no, they're much too forward and lusty. This boy was a choir boy, and he is religious, conceited,and prudent. On earth, he wanted to be a priest. He is a virgin and declares his intention to never sully his body and soul with sex or sin." Burt added with a smile, "Given his personality, I doubt he had many opportunities to lose his virginity."

"If he wants to abstain from sex, why is he being sent here?"

“God knows! And Saint Peter does. Anyway, we have to make the best of the situation. I would appreciate if he could stay at your house for a few days while you introduce him to our loving culture, gradually.”

“Aren't I a little old to do this?" Agnes had selected the age of thirty-two for her spirit in Heavenly Aden; on earth she had died at age eighty-two.

"Given your religious background, you're the perfect person for the job.”

“Am I supposed to fuck him?" Her language had become much more explicit in Heaven.

"Oh, no, not necessarily, but you need to prepare him for Fuckfest. Five days from now."

"Well, I can't refuse, can I?" she said with resignation. "Even in heaven a nun has obligations."

"I'm sure you'll succeed. He will be projected into our reality in two hours, on the path in front of your house." I have kissed her on the cheek. "I also have a second reason for coming out to see you today."

"Oh?" she answered, enjoying the arm that snaked abound her back and the touch of his bare chest against hers.

"Perhaps we could enjoy a little tryst. Our first of many, I am sure."

"I thought you'd never ask. First, I need to wash off the dirt and sweat."

"I want you like you are." He kissed her and she melted into his arms. "The boy's name is Joshua."

Joshua Arrives.

After Burt left, Agnes washed away the dirt , sweat, and sperm in the emerald pool below the waterfall a few steps out the back door of her house and put on a fresh pair of shorts and shirt The shorts were short and the shirt was sheer. tits and the pink of her nipples showed through the thin cloth. "Not a suitable outfit for meeting an aspiring priest," she thought to herself. "But the Heavenly Host in his wisdom, doesn't believe we need much in the way of clothing. "

She tidied up her small, two-room stone house. Suddenly, she started in surprise. "Where is he going to sleep?" Her bedroom contained only a double bed. Her living room had cushions on the floor, a couple of chairs , and a wooden table that served both for eating and as a work place. Outside, on a small terrace overlooking the emerald pool and the waterfall; were another two chairs and a grill on which she cooked her modest meals.

"Well," she said. "He'll have to sleep in the bed with me, or find a place on the cushions. I'm not in charge of accommodations here. It might be more heavenly if I were. Sorry to be critical, God." She looked up at the sky.

Sister Agnes, In Heaven: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Thu, 07 May 2026 16:27:00 +0000

Sister Agnes, In Heaven: Part 2

goes to a party in Heaven and meets three young men.

In 3 parts, based on a post by ElsieThompson. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.

"Hello, Agnes."

Agnes looked up from where she was kneeling in her vegetable garden. It was Burt, President of the City Council of Heavenly Aden. It was hot and she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a white blouse. Her hands were soiled with dirt. "Hello, Burt," she answered with enthusiasm. "Welcome!" She stood up and walked over to where he was standing and kissed him on the cheek. For her that was bold.

"I came to apologize," he said.

"What for?" she was puzzled. "I should have fucked you the other night. I focused only on what I wanted, and didn't take your needs into account." Burt had masturbated and cummed on her tits

.Agnes, with less that a week in Heaven, still flinched at the word fuck. "Oh," she said, dismissing his apology, "That's all right. Harold, uh, fucked me good. I was happy." She chuckled. "Maybe for my first sex experience one man was enough. And I enjoyed watching you, uh, cum on me.”

“You were a virgin on earth, I take it.”

“Oh, yes, 80 years of chastity on earth." She laughed. "Suddenly I'm in Heaven and; and sex is required; and I've always been a stickler for following the rules. Plus, I am enjoying my 32 year old body. I am delighted to have a garden, a house, a dog." She reached down in the cleft between her tits to wipe away the sweat. Burt's eyes followed her hand. Self-consciously she looked down. The brown of her nipples showed through the thin, sweat-soaked fabric of her blouse.

"Well, I'm glad you're not mad at me. If there's anything I can do to help you adjust to Aden," His eyes did not leave her chest.

Agnes mused a moment. "I do have a question. Is there no anxiety or jealously in Heaven? Harold and I had a good time; but I was unhappy when he left me to have sex with another woman. I understand that we all have an obligation on Friday nights to make sure that everybody has sex, and I'll do my part. But I felt abandoned. Harold fucked me and left." A tear ran down her cheek. She clutched Burt to her. "Fortunately you showed up and made me feel better. But are my feelings normal here in Heaven? Where everything is supposed to be, well, heavenly."

Burt squeezed her to his chest and patted her back. "I suggest you give it some time; and try other partners. I felt uncomfortable the first time my wife fucked another guy here. It was a bit unsettling to my un-renewed mind. But we chose Aden as our heavenly home because we both have the desire to experience a more permissive sexual scene. Perhaps you feel the same? Repressed desire; all those years as a nun?”

“Yes, I wanted a freer, more individualistic life when I chose Aden. But I feel like I should be in love with Harold, and jilted because he left me to fuck somebody else. Everybody fucks everybody here, but at heart I'm a prude."

Burt held her at arms length, as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You were not prudish at all. You lay there naked, your legs spread while I crouched over you and stroked my cock. You were attentive, a little apprehensive as anybody would be who has never been cummed on, but you were a sensual experience for me. I loved it."

Agnes wiped away the tear and laughed. "Thank you. I think I was just terrified. The epistles teach us to ‘be transformed by renewing our minds’. I guess that especially applies to now?”

“I should have fucked you. Slowly and carefully. I should have reassured you and made you comfortable." He paused. "I walked out here to see you and apologize, but I also wanted to take a shower in your neighborhood waterfall." He nodded toward the waterfall a few yards beyond her house. "Does that interest you?"

Agnes turned to look at the waterfall. It was a popular place for bathing. Nobody was there, but frequently people walked out from the village and cavorted in the deep, clear pool at its foot. Everyone went into the water naked. She felt panic at the thought of getting naked in broad daylight in the open air. "Well, maybe." She gathered her wits. She should do this. She was in a place in which sex and nudity was the norm. "Yes, let's do it" she said with resolve. "I need to wash the dirt and sweat off. I must smell like a goat.”

“A very lovely goat," Burt answered.

"Getting naked is difficult for me. I'm still getting use to the culture here." Agnes admitted.

"I'll help you," Burt said with a leer, his eyes focused again on the rivulets of sweat that trickled between her tits.

‘He wants to fuck me,’ Agnes thought with a feeling of panic. ‘But I don't have to do it. Aden's rules are that sex is mandatory only on Friday nights. Do I want to do this?’ she asked herself. ‘Where would we do it? In the water? How? Standing up? Those rocks on the shore look hard. I'm not sure I want to lie down there. I wish my tits were bigger. I wish I had shaved my cunt. Am I ready for this? Oh, God, you put me here. Help!’

Her mind raced. ‘Have I already decided to fuck him? What if he doesn't want to? What if he's just being friendly. What if he rejects me? What if somebody sees us while we're fucking? I'll freeze up like a ice cube and I won't be any good. Should I fake cumming? How do you fake cumming?’

Burt took her by the hand, "Ready? Let's go." The two of them walked to the rocky shore of the pool. The waterfall made a low roar in the distance. "Now?" asked Burt. He shook off his sandals and then pulled down his shorts and tossed them aside. He wore no underwear.

Agnes looked down at him momentarily. Yes, that was Burt as she recalled him. A short, fat cock, surrounded by a heavy bush of black hair that extended up to his navel. His cock hung limply.

Burt touched her chest and began unbuttoning her blouse. "Okay?" he asked.

"Okay," she answered. She stood stiffly as his hand ran between her tits, undoing the buttons on the blouse. He turned her around and slid the blouse off her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby bush. He kissed the back of her neck as one hand found a nipple and tweaked it. "Pink nipples that get hard when they're touched. You're going to become very popular here, in Aden.”

“I'll do the best I can," she said, but not with much confidence. She felt the tingle of pleasure as Burt caressed her tit, but stiffened again when he loosed her shorts and pulled the garment around her shapely ass cheeks, where they dropped to her feet. She stepped out of them. The two of them stood facing each other and Burt kissed her on the lips and ran his hands down her sides and over her ass.

’Is he going to fuck me now?’ she wondered to herself. She could feel his cock rubbing into the hair on her pubic area and her tits, the nipples now long and firm, rubbed against his chest.

He stepped away from her and took her hand in his; and stepped carefully into the clear, green water.

Agnes paused before following him. "Before we go in, tell me something. I don't want to be deceptive. Does Melody know you're out here with me?" Melody was Burt's wife for 20 years on earth and 40 years in Heaven.

"Of course. We don't hide anything from each other. Nobody hides anything here. No reason to." He paused "It's my job; and Melody's; to make sure newcomers fit it and adjust; and she is really enthusiastic about sex. She fucks a man or two every day of the week. That's probably what she's doing right now. She will want to enjoy you. Soon."

Agnes didn't have much of a notion as to how women should conduct themselves, but she followed Burt into the water. It was cool and crystal clear. Colorful fish darted around her feet. Burt stepped deeper into the water. "Be careful. The rocks are slippery. Realism, you know, virtual life after death but without many of the unpleasant features of real life.

"No flies, I've noticed. No mosquitos.”

“Can you swim?"

They were neck deep in the water.

"Yes, although I haven't since I was a teenager. We didn't have a swimming pool in the convent." She laughed at the thought.

"Let's swim to the waterfall and take a shower," said Burt. Side by side they stroked across a few yards of deeper water. Burt pulled her up onto the rocks behind the waterfall. She looked around. Nobody was in sight.

The sound of the waterfall was thunderous now as they stepped into it. She shivered from the cold, then raised her face into the falling water and felt the heavy weight of it cleanse her body. She took a long gulp of the crystalline water.

"May I scrub your back?" shouted Burt, who was standing beside her. He reached onto a ledge and his hand came away with a bar of soap. "Oil and Ash soap, of course. No pollution allowed in Aden.”

“Of course," she answered in what she thought was a coquettish voice. Burt massaged her shoulders, then ran his hand over her back, moving down to her ass, massaging and rubbing and then his hands were on her upper legs, his fingers between then, tickling her labia, running his hands over and up and down her upper thighs, and his finger found the crack in her ass and pushed downward; all the way down.

He pulled her around to face him and they kissed long and hard as the cascading water mist sprayed over their heads and down their naked bodies. He gently turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, taking one hand to caress her amazing tits, and his other hand traveled over her narrow belly, then fluffed her pubic bush. His fingers sought her cunt and he inserted one, and then a second one.

"Does that hurt?" he asked.

"No, I'm wet, lubricated; whatever the word is." She sucked in a breath. "Don't stop doing that." Burt's thumb massaged her clitoris as his two fingers stroked in and out. She lowered her hand behind her ass to feel his cock. "I didn't touch Harold's cock when he fucked me. I'm curious what it feels like.”

“It's sort of cuddly when it's soft, but you've made it hard. Are you liking this? We can go to shore and fuck on the beach. Or go to your house, if you prefer.”

“Oh, no," she answered. "Keep doing that. That feels so good." She was hunching back and forth, Burt's fingers reaching far inside her, the hard knot of her clitoris tingling from the gentle touch of his thumb. "I think I'm going to cum.”

“Do it!" Burt commanded. "I want to feel you cum."

Agnes felt a shiver go down her whole body and her legs gave way and she would have fallen had not Burt been holding her. Her body convulsed in tremors as the climax pulsed up and down her limbs. "Oh, oh, oh," she moaned, throwing her head back and thrusting her hips forward to force his two fingers deep inside her and clutched them with her vaginal walls. She leaned back and Burt's other hand found the hardened nipple of her left tit, and he pinched hard and she felt another jolt radiating up and down her chest; and then it was over and she collapsed in euphoria and would have fallen had not Burt caught her in his arms. The falling water washed over her head and face.

"Oh, my God," she said when she could talk. "That was intense. I've never cum standing up." She thought to herself. ‘My language! I am not behaving like a nun. But then,’ she shook off the thought, ‘I'm not a nun anymore. I'm in Heaven.’ She said aloud, "That climax felt like when I found God.”

“It was my privilege," said Burt. He kissed her on the cheek.

She felt his cock hard in her hand and nun-like again, she said, "Oh, but I forgot all about you. I need to do something. Don't I?”

“It would be nice," he responded. "Although you have no obligation. That's the joy of Heaven.”

“It would be selfish of me not to satisfy you. And after that climax I feel an obligation. Oh, wow, do I feel an obligation! My decades of service to others is still deeply engrained in my conscience.”

“Then, let's go to that beach over there" he pointed to the shoreline of the emerald pool. "I'll cum on your tits. And you can masturbate with me. That's what I like most to do. I'm visual. I like to see my partner; and the facial expression, and the way their body moves when they cum.

She took him by the hand and with a purpose of mission, she stepped into the deep water at the foot of the waterfall and he followed and they swam side by side to the shallower water.

As they touched bottom, Agnes said, "I'd like to feel your cock, uh, your cock inside me.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“No, I want to do what you want me to do. But first I'd like to feel your cock inside me. Just for a moment.”

“Your wish is my command." He turned to face her in the shoulder-depth water and put his hands under her hips and raised her and she locked her legs around him and he cupped her ass cheeks, then probed until he found her cunt. She felt him pushing inside her and then he was in.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked.

"Yes, I just wanted to know what it felt like; if it felt differently than when Harold fucked me.”

“Does it feel different.”

“I think yours feels tighter.”

“Is that a compliment?" he laughed. "Will you recognize me next time by the tight fit in your cunt?"

Agnes blushed in embarrassment. "That's enough. I just wanted to feel you inside me. Let's go to the beach.”

Sister Agnes, In Heaven: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Wed, 06 May 2026 16:25:00 +0000

A nun goes to Heaven and learns that sex is required.

In 3 parts, based on a post by ElsieThompson. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected
.

The spirit of Sister Agnes met a bearded, white-robed figure with a benevolent smile standing just outside the pearly gates. "Saint Peter?" she asked. She was wearing the same kind of white robe which, frankly, was a bit thin and translucent for her taste.

"Call me Pete. We don't stand on ceremony here," he answered. "I am as you wish me to be. At your service, Sister Agnes. May I call you Agnes?"

'Yes, of course, uh, Pete. I don't quite know what to say. This looks exactly as I thought it would look. Even to the cherubs sitting on clouds. And the harp music. Everything is so white and clean.

"Your imagination makes it what it is," answered Peter. "Welcome to heaven! Your reward for a life well lived."

Agnes looked around. Through the pearly gates was a yellow brick road that passed from cloud to cloud and in the distance was a castle of white and aqua blue, its turrets shining in the light of a warm yellow sun. "That looks like Disney World," she thought.

She turned away from the pearly gates and looked in the opposite direction. A ragged line of people dressed in sackcloth, their faces contorted in sadness, trudged down a muddy road of tumbled cobblestones lined by thorny bushes.

"Goodness," said she. "The man with tattoos looks familiar."

Saint Peter sighed. "Yes, it is sometimes difficult to decide which path a client may take; but in his case it was an easy decision. You, dear Agnes, have better options. May I explain our little home away from home, so to speak?"

He continued. "First, of all, you died in one universe. You are now in another universe and you have an infinite number of choices how you will spend eternity. Virtual life after death, you will find, will be quite pleasant. You have accumulated a formidable number of points for good works and faith. Many more than some unfortunate souls. How would you like to begin eternity? Living in a temporal world; or trying something more exotic: a digital consciousness in the over soul or perhaps a tour of black holes?"

She thought a moment. "I have always dreamed of a perfect earth. Perhaps I would like a medieval village and a small house and a property of my own. I have never owned anything. I could have a vegetable garden. And fruit trees." Her enthusiasm mounted as she spoke. "And chickens. My mother had a garden and chickens when I was a child. A dog. I want a dog. A Labrador." She paused. "But I am eighty years old. I can't take care of chickens and a dog and a garden.”

“No worries," said Peter. "Here, you may be the age you wish to be.”

“Any age I want? I was attractive as a youth. Is it all right to say that? Or is that vanity?”

“You were more than attractive! You were exquisite!" said Peter with enthusiasm.

Her first thought was, "Is that an appropriate compliment by a saint?" She dismissed the doubt. How could Saint Peter be inappropriate? "Thank you," she answered sincerely. "I always fought the sin of vanity. But it's nice to hear that from you. Some of those priests. Ugh." Oops, she thought, that wasn't a nice thing to say.

Peter reassured her. "Those bad priests follow the same path as the orange man. What age is good for you?"

"I don't want to be too young," she mused. "Nor too old. Thirty-two. Is that possible Although I want to keep my eighty year old mind. I'm smarter now than then."

"Absolutely. Thirty-two you shall be; with an eighty year old mind." He waved a hand, conjured up a floor-length mirror and said, "Look at yourself.

"She stared at the mirror. "Oh, my God!" She twirled round and round and pulled her gauzy white robe to herself, to see the outlines of her body. "I wasn't bad looking, was I? Are you sure that vanity is okay?"

"You are permitted vanity. And other indulgences too, if you wish."

"I wouldn't want to be sinful. Well, maybe just a little indulgent, to experience something of life outside the convent and parish. Not that I wasn't happy as a nun.”

“How about a husband? Or a wife? Children?" Peter asked.

"Oh, no. But I would like to have lots of caring, sharing friends. Male and female friends. I've not had any male friends. Ever," she mused.

"Your wish is my command, Agnes. Now, let's look at the options you have for a place to live; or perhaps better said, reside in a spirit that is indistinguishable from life. You want heaven to be rural, medieval, and agricultural. Like the Ireland of your childhood, perhaps?”

“Hum, No. Less rain and more sunshine, but with mountains and valleys and rainbows.”

“Let me see what we have available." He stepped to a golden table and sat down in a golden chair in front of a platinum-plated desktop computer with a large monitor. He talked as his hands played over the keyboard. "We're not immune to change in heaven. Just recently, I arranged a temporary transfer from down below for Steve Jobs. He did a great job organizing our computerized list of environments. And Pixar is amazing!"

He leaned back from the keyboard. "Here is a place which may meet your needs. What would you say to a 50 year lease? In earth years, of course, And renewable." He touched a key and a video appeared. It showed a small stone cottage nestled along a beautiful river. A waterfall shimmered white in the background. The video panned out to show a narrow valley ringed by sheer cliffs of red rocks The valley floor was covered by green fields interrupted with copses of trees. The small rushing river of clear blue water bisected the valley.

The video rotated to show a narrow dirt road, shaded by enormous, ancient trees to a tiny village of gray, stone houses and narrow pathways not unlike the ancient French villages she had seen in the valleys.

"It's perfect," she said. "My vision exactly. But I'll need a lot of books to read.”

“We've anticipated that need. The technology is medieval. There's no running water or electricity; except that you'll have a heavenly Kindle preloaded with every book that's ever been published. That includes titles lost to your times such as How to Cook a Horse by Attila the Hun, and 57 Ways to Kill your Wife by Henry the eighth. Plus, you will have a heavenly time machine to view any historical event as it happened. Live, no censorship, no editing. You can answer the eternal question: Did Jesus actually get it on with Mary Magdalene?”

“I don't think I want to know if she seduced him. It might be embarrassing. But I would like to see some things. I've always been curious about Joan of Arc, for example. She was the hero who inspired me to become a nun.”

“Joanie is big on Heavenly Heroines website. You can watch every day of her life from birth to death. All 19 years of it. You've got an eternity to indulge yourself. You'll be happy to know that those responsible for her death have toiling working in Hell's Salt Mines for the last seven hundred years.”

“I'll pray for them," said Agnes. But not very much, she thought.

"To continue," said Peter, this virtual valley and village have a population of three hundred, divided equally between men and women. It's not a place of leisure. You have to labor on your land and some community service is required. Road repair, for example. Nothing supernatural about it, except that your neighbors will be good people. As you are.”

“I like it," she said with enthusiasm. "But I'll miss one thing. I love hot showers to the point of sinfulness. I've confessed my undue affection for a hot shower, but this being heaven, do you suppose,?”

“The Heavenly Architect has thought of that. Hot springs are scattered around the valley for bathing. No clothing allowed in the hot springs. Is that acceptable to you?

"She paused. "I've never been naked before. Well, not in public I mean. There was the church and the calling,”

“You were married to the Church, but there is no parish government here. This is paradise. You are a tangible spirit, not just a carnal body. You will never be ill or diseased. You will not poop nor pee. Did I say that properly not to shock you? Your appetites continue, but the energy which food gives you, will radiate out of you in energy, without waste products, so we don’t have to be bothered with outhouses or wiping shit off our asses.”

Peter continued his orientation; “You will not have; how do I say it delicately?; your monthlies, nor will you get pregnant when you have sex. And, speaking of sex, in this chosen vision of the afterlife, sex is not only encouraged, it is required.”

“Required?" Agnes was shocked. Sex in paradise?

"Many former nuns find satisfaction in; how did the priests say it? ‘the sins of the flesh.’ Those are not sins here because there is no such concerns about exploitation, jealousy, abandonment, or inequality.”

“I'm much too old to think about sex. Oh, but you said I could be thirty two. I do recall sometimes thinking of sex at that age, but of course I prayed those thoughts out of my mind. Those were the seventies, as I recall. The sexual revolution and free love.”

“Here, you'll have no need to restrain your desires. Living as a tangible spirit with a regenerated body, you will have access to all the things of life you may desire: sex, chocolate, chickens, Labradors, alcohol, even marijuana. All in natural moderation, of course. Would you like more details about the requirements for sex in this environment?" Saint Peter bubbled with enthusiasm.

"Yes, please, but not too graphic, if you know what I mean. It's embarrassing for me to think about it. Sex, I mean.”

“No worries, I can read your mind. You want the PG-13 version.”

“That sounds right." Agnes smiled.

"Okay, to explain, the people of this environment have decided that every man and woman has the right to sex on demand on Friday nights at a community party. You may, of course, also have sex on other days also; and with whomever you wish. Male or female, among adults.”

“What if I can't bring myself to, well, uh, have sex?”

“We'll have to cancel your membership. You may then select a different environment.”

“Fair enough. How does the sex part work?”

“The system is simple," Peter gushed. "Every Friday night, all adults in the environment are required to meet in town for a party, Dancing, drinking, festivities, and everybody gets laid during the course of the evening. It's guaranteed.”

“Do I get to pick my partner?”

“Yes, provided that you do your part in ensuring that nobody gets left out. That might require doubling up on partners. We have learned that a guarantee of the right to sex for every person is healthy. It eliminates war and aggression and many of the mental health problems that plague earthly societies."

Agnes's insecurities came to the fore. "What if nobody wants me?”

“Not a worry," Peter said, looking her thirty two year old body over from top to bottom. "You're beautiful; Milf beautiful! You'll have to beat the men off with a stick, metaphorically speaking. And women, too. My Lord in Heaven! With tits like that, you'll be a sensation." He turned her around and looked at her posterior. "Damned good ass, too!"

She blushed in embarrassment.

"But even if you were not beautiful, you would still get laid. And you are also obligated to assure that every man and woman gets fucked at least once a week. Oops, sorry, "fuck" is an R word."

The word "fuck" hit on Agnes's ear like a hatchet. The word had never passed her lips, and she had hardly ever heard it. But Saint Peter said it. It must be okay?

"So?" he asked. "Sign up here for fifty earth years? Conditional on being able to fulfill the requirements for sex, as I described?" He handed her a golden pen and pointed her toward a large book of vellum pages on another table.

"I'll give the sex a try," she pledged. She took the pen from him and wrote her name in the book. "Don't forget that I want a Labrador. A black one, please, if that is possible.”

“No sweat," said Peter. "Thy will be done." St. Peter and the pearly gates dissolved in mist.

A Cottage in Aden

Sister Agnes was transported in a mist, across time and space; feeling a rush like weightlessness. She opened her eyes and looked around. "It's so real," she said to herself. "So beautiful. Earth as I would have liked it to be." A small stone cottage was surrounded by gardens and fruit trees and a chicken house. She lifted her head. Beyond the stone cottage was a waterfall, cascading over a red-rock cliff, and dropping into a pool of crystalline water.

Half a dozen men and women stood in front of the stone house, a Labrador sitting calmly at their side. A tall and distinguished man stepped forward. "Welcome to the celestial village of Aden! The name 'Eden' was already taken. So we named ourselves Aden. I'm Burt." He shook her hand vigorously.

"Say hello to the city council." He beckoned to the three men and three women at the front of the house.

She looked at the group. They were a collection of sizes and shapes. The men were dressed in various shorts and tee shirts. The women also wore various shorts and halter tops covered their tits. "No bras," Agnes immediately noticed. "And they are showing quite a bit of skin." She looked down at herself. She was dressed the same. Self-consciously, she adjusted the halter top to conceal more of her tits. "I've never been so close to naked in public," she thought.

The black Labrador came to her side and licked her hand. Burt said, "Her name is Blackie. Not very original, I know." He beckoned toward the stone cottage. "This is your house. Two rooms: a bedroom and a living room slash kitchen. A fireplace. A deck is out the back door so you can enjoy the view." He waved expansively.

"Notice," said Burt, "the hot spring over there." He pointed. "It's a natural bathtub with a constant, tolerably hot temperature. If that's too hot for you, other hot springs are nearby."

Agnes looked at the hot spring. Three people were sitting in the water, one man and two women. They were naked. She flinched in surprise.

"Clothing in hot springs is forbidden," Burt said. "It's one of our few rules. We're not a nudist colony, but we encourage a celebration of the body beautiful. Everybody here is beautiful, even if they were not judged to be on Earth. And everybody has equal access to the pleasures of the flesh."

One of the men lounging in the hot spring stood up and waved at Agnes. She looked away quickly. "Goodness," she thought, "His thing is so big! Surely that won't fit into me." She blushed red in embarrassment.

"That's Randy," said Burt. "He's well-named; and as you have noticed is well-endowed. He's popular with the women. Well, at least some of them."

Agnes turned back and forced herself to look at Randy. His cock swung about and perhaps reached halfway to his knees. It was as thick as her wrist. She turned to Burt. "Did he choose to, uh, look like that, or was he that way in real life?”

“He was like that. Everybody in Aden looks just like they did on Earth although they select the age they wish to be. Any disabilities are restored, in body and mind." He looked at her. "If you'd like to sample Randy, I'm sure it can be arranged. Some of the members of our community only have sex on Friday nights. Others are active more often. Randy is one of the latter."

She stuttered. "I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle the, uh, sex here.”

“You're a virgin?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "I've never even seen a, one of those things.”

“Maybe Randy would be a bit too much for you as a newcomer. I'll offer myself to you. What I lack in length, I make up for in liveliness." He smiled benevolently at her and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Well, uh, .yes, maybe, uh, thanks." She was flustered.

"It would be my honor. Tomorrow is Friday and we all meet at sunset to have a party and enjoy the sensual delights of our community. Attendance and participation is mandatory. Nobody gets left out. But in the meantime, if you'd like to sample Randy, or me, on anybody else feel free to do so. Our motto is 'Everybody fucks.'"

She grimaced at the sound of the word, but said, "I'll do my part of course. I've always lived up to my responsibilities, but maybe I need a day to adjust before I go to the party, and participate.”

“Suit yourself," Burt said amiably. "We leave you to get acquainted with your dog, your house, your chickens, and your garden. You'll find some additional clothing in the house. You might want to put on something more festive for the party. Or show up naked. That's all right too." He paused to muse. "I recall one newly arrived woman who came to the party naked and fucked twenty men that first night. Including me. Wow! That was something. She had been like you, a nun on earth.”

“I don't thing I'm ready for that," answered Agnes, "but I'll do my best." She hoped she could.

The Party.

The sun was low in the sky as Agnes tried to decide what to wear to the party. Nudity was out for her. The festive clothes hanging in her closet were all sparing of cloth. Neither a bra nor underpants were anywhere in sight! She liked the look of her legs as she tried on a mini skirt; but without panties she would be uncomfortable wearing such a short skirt. So, she tried on shorts. She picked a pair at random. "Should I have shaved my pubic area?" she asked herself. "I guess I'll go as I am this time."

The tops were equally revealing. Some were nearly transparent. Others were only tiny patches of fabric that covered her nipples and nothing else. She picked a bikini top that tied around her neck and showed off her impressive; so she thought with a touch of pride; cleavage, but held her tits firmly in place and was almost nipple-slip proof.

As she left her house, she said to herself with determination, "Well, tonight I am going to get laid. Relax Agnes, and enjoy. You can do it, girl. You can do it. You're going to get fucked. Finally." She was frightened, but happy.

She walked to the village a few hundred yards away. A stream of people were walking in the same direction. Some were dressed, as she was, in relative modesty. Others wore revealing outfits. A few, both men and women, were totally naked. Some of the naked had streaks of body paint covering their private parts. Agnes felt out of her element, but everybody was friendly, and she managed to avoid flinching when both men and women kissed her on her cheeks and welcomed her to Aden.

Her destination was a large, low building with an outdoor patio at the center of the tiny village. Dozens of people clustered on the patio. A totally naked waitress circulated with a tray of canapes and a man, equally unclothed, passed around drinks. A man and woman wearing only aprons stood behind a bar mixing drinks and tending to a smoking grill. The smell of barbecue permeated the air. The people were mostly, as she was, in her thirties. A few appeared to be closer to 20 and others nearly 60. Some were beautiful, many were not, and they came in all shapes and sizes. Agnes repressed a prideful thought that her body was better than the average.

Burt met her as she stepped onto the flagstone patio. "Agnes!" he gushed. "Welcome to the Aden Copulation Center." She managed to smile as he kissed her on the cheek and patted her on the ass. He raised her hand with his and turned to the people scattered about the patio. "People, listen!," he shouted. "This is Agnes, our newest arrival, and our first in many a virtual year. On earth she was a nun; and a virgin. This is new to her. She's not at all like Mother Teresa, so let's be careful to ensure that she enjoys herself.”

“Mother Teresa?" mused Agnes to herself. "The Mother Teresa? Was she the one who fucked twenty men her first night here?" She looked at the onrushing crowd of men coming to her side. "Oh, why did he have to tell people I'm a virgin?"

Burt whispered in her ear. "I'm available if you want me." He took her by the hand and led her to the center of the patio. "Let me introduce you to my wife." Burt's wife was gorgeous; and barely dressed. She wore a Roman toga that was semi-transparent and draped loosely over the curves of her body. Agnes noted with relief that she was unshaven, with a distinct dark triangular patch of hair visible through the thin fabric.

"Melody was my wif

The Girl Next Door

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Tue, 05 May 2026 17:11:00 +0000

A young woman gives her virginity to her next door neighbor.

by SkyBubble. Listen to the ► podcast at Steamy Stories.

I had always thought my neighbor Belinda was attractive, even after she got glasses. She was well proportioned, with long black hair, ample tits, a round ass, and nice legs. She looked good in a swimsuit. But even as a kid, she had been the prettiest girl in first grade.

Belinda had been my neighbor since elementary school. Everyone called her Binny. We had played together and grown up together. As we both grew up, I had watched her mature into a beautiful adult woman.

We had both been away at school, so we hadn’t seen as much of each other as before, but we stayed in touch.

We were both home on break and Belinda was hanging out at my house every so often. One day I was home alone and listening to an old rock album in my bedroom. I looked up to see Binny cheerfully waving her greeting to me as she came in the room and sat down to enjoy the sentimental tune which had just started.

Periodically, I would glance at her. When she caught me, she would smile, blush, and look away. When the song ended I said; “Belinda, why do you look away from me?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know that this is often a signal.

Belinda blushed. “Well, I..”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Maybe a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just keep noticing how beautiful you are.”

Belinda turned red. “Thank you,” she muttered softly. She seemed nonplussed by the compliment. She had always seemed a bit uncomfortable with compliments.

“I mean it. You’re a very attractive woman.” Belinda smiled.

“Thank you,” she said again. I sat next to her. Belinda shifted slightly. She looked down and twirled her hair.

I looked Belinda directly in the eye. She smiled again and licked her lips. I moved closer to her.

“Look at me, Belinda,” I said. She picked up her pretty head and stared at my lips. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Maybe a little bit,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. It’s me, your old friend. We’ve been friends for around fifteen years. Since first grade. We grew up together. You can trust me.” Belinda slid a little closer to me, on the side of the bed. I put my arm behind her. She put her head on my arm.

“I know,” Belinda said softly. “It’s just”

“Just what?”

“Most guys…want something.”

“What?”

“They want…” Her voice trailed off. She barely got the next words out. “…to sleep with me.”

“I can understand that,” I said. She gave me a puzzled, slightly irritated look. “You’re a beautiful woman. Inside and out.”

“You said that. Thank you.” Belinda smiled again. She was almost in tears. Her head was on my shoulder. “You’re my best friend,” Belinda said. “I know you won’t take advantage of me.”

“Right,” I said. Belinda licked her lips. She twirled her hair. I reached around and gave her a hug. Suddenly, Belinda took her glasses off.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” said Belinda.

“Why would I mind?” I asked. I had wanted to kiss her for a long time. I leaned over, took her face in my hands, and gave my old friend a good, strong kiss. She responded by sitting up and returning the kiss, Her eyes twinkled.

“I like that,” Belinda said. “I like that a lot.” She moved closer until our bodies touched each other, and she gave me a long kiss.

“Nice,” she said. I put my arm around her. Belinda snuggled up next to me, her hand on my leg. I kissed the back of her neck. It seems that startled her. She jumped and moaned.

“What are you doing?” Belinda said in a surprised tone.

“Belinda, look at me.” She looked me in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

“Well…yeah…I think so. You’re my best friend.”

“Yes,” I said. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“I think since we were six,” Belinda said.

“I admit I had kind of a crush on you even then,” I said. Belinda smiled. I gently moved my hand to Belinda’s boob. She shifted in toward me.

“What are you doing?” she said, not in a stern or angry way.

“You seem uncomfortable, Binny,” I said. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Have you ever had sex?”

“No,” Belinda said softly, with a touch of sadness in her voice.

“Would you like to?”

“Uh, I…I don’t know,” Belinda replied. “Maybe.”

“I love that answer,” I said. “It’s beautifully honest. One of the many beautiful things about you.”

Belinda smiled. She put her head down. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we go with it, and when you want to stop, we’ll stop. If you don’t want to do something, just say no. I won’t push it. OK?”

“OK,” she said tentatively.

“Come kiss me again,” I said. Belinda hit me with a fervent kiss. Her mouth was wide open. I kissed her open mouth and slipped my tongue into her mouth. She giggled. I put my arms around her. I undid her bra.

Belinda reached inside her top and took her bra off. I kissed her tits over her shirt. She took it off. I blew in her ear.

“Oh,” Belinda sighed. “Ah.” I ran my hands up and down her sides while I kissed her round, firm breasts. My tongue licked her nipples. I gently bit them and I sucked on them.

“That’s nice,” said Belinda. “I like that.” Her hand was back on my leg. She gently touched my crotch, then quickly withdrew. My cock was bulging. I stood up.

“Where are you going?” said Belinda. She grabbed me and kissed me again. She unzipped my pants and blew in my ear. My hand was on her round ass. I took off my shirt.

“Oh,” Belinda said with a smile. I pulled her close to me, our bodies grinding against each other. i put my hand back on Belinda’s shapely butt; and pulled her pants off. With a kiss, Belinda unbuckled my belt.

Belinda stretched out on my bed, displaying her womanly charms. “I want it!” she almost yelled. “I want it now.”

“Belinda,” I said, “do you want to do it?”

“Yes!”

“You want to have sex?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to be your first?”

“Yes! I want you to be my first!”

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want it! I want you!”

“What do you want?” I said.

“I want your cock! I want you to stick it deep inside me.”

“Are you sure?” I said.

“I’m sure,” she said. “I want you to do me, ravish me. I need you to take me.”

“You want me to take your virginity?”

“Yes! Right now! Please! I’m horny as hell! I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

“OK, then,” I said. I lay next to Belinda. I slipped her soaking panties off. She was dripping.

“You’re wet.” She nodded. I took off my underpants and I kissed Belinda again. She moaned. She wrapped herself around me.

“This might hurt a little,” I said as I placed my finger on the lips of Belinda’s cunt.

“That’s OK,” she said, smiling. “I’m a big girl.” I slipped my finger inside her vagina. I rotated it, moving a little further into her until I found her clitoris. Belinda gasped as I fingered her clit. I rotated it around while Belinda began idly playing with my penis.

I stuck another finger in Belinda. She began stroking my dick more seriously. She was sweating.

“This is great,” Belinda said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I said. Belinda laughed. As if on an impulse, Belinda raised herself up and kissed my stiff cock. She began to lick it.

“Careful,” I said. “You don’t want me to pop before I’m in you.”

“OK,” Belinda said, and she opened her mouth and put her pretty lips around my hard organ. Her ample tits bounced up and down with the motion of her head.

“I’m about to pop,” I said. “Are you sure you can take it in?”

Belinda laughed. “Ah,” she said.

“OK,” I said, a little skeptically. Then what I had warned her about happened. I popped. My cock jerked around, hitting the roof of Belinda’s mouth and releasing my sperm into her mouth.

At first, Belinda seemed to be taking it in. Suddenly, she coughed and spat jism all over. She smiled and licked her lips, then kissed me.

“Damn,” Belinda said, my juice dripping from her pretty face.

I got up. “I’ll get a towel,” I said. I tossed the towel to Belinda and she wiped her face. I got back on the bed. I said. I kissed her slowly but firmly on the lips, moving down to her tits, down her torso to her pussy. I kissed her pussy.

“Having a good time?” I said.

“Boy, am I!”

“Well, it’s about to get better.” Having already invaded her with my finger, it was easier to get my face in. I opened the walls of her female area and my tongue slowly caressed her cunt, getting a little further inside Belinda. She was breathing heavily.

“Oh, Christ,” said Belinda. “That’s so nice.” She continued to work my penis in her hand. It was growing harder.

I continued to work her pussy. Belinda was breathing hard. Her body was shaking. “Oh, God!” she exclaimed. She could barely contain herself.

My cock stood erect. Belinda stopped stroking it. I finished eating her.

“Give me that!” Belinda said. “I need it! Put it inside me Now!”

I pushed and got a bit inside the lip of Belinda’s cunt. I pulled back and pushed again.

“Ow!”

I gently kissed her and thrust again. Belinda bit her lip and grabbed the sheets. With a couple more pushes, I got fully into her wet pussy. I moved slowly in and out, a little deeper with each thrust, until my hard, stiff dick was as deep as it could get.

Belinda was bug eyed. She was sweating and moaning loudly. I kept pushing in and out, in and out.

“Oh!” I kept thrusting. “Oh, oh my God!” Belinda had never felt anything like that before.

“You OK?” I said.

“OK? I’m fantastic! Jesus Christ, this is good!” I sped up the pace just a little. My balls slapped Belinda’s no longer innocent pussy over and over. “Oh, my God!”

Belinda’s eyes got wide, her breath got short, her legs bent, and she was sweating. I couldn’t tell if she was ecstatic or scared to death, or both.

“OH, MY, GOD!” Belinda cried. “So good!”

I popped. Belinda recognized it from when I popped in her mouth. Her body continued to spasm and tremble with ecstatic pleasure as my cock spat a large stream of juice into her cunt. She could hardly breathe. The stream exhausted, my cock went flaccid.

“Wow, so that’s what it feels like,” Belinda said once she caught her breath. “Wow, cool.”

“You OK? How are you feeling?” I said.

“Great,” Belinda said. “That was really good!” She looked at me and smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you were my first. I hope we can do it again really soon.”

I kissed her. “Any time, Belinda. Any time.”

by SkyBubble for Literotica

Battling Exposure

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Tue, 05 May 2026 12:07:42 +0000

Battling Exposure

Cold weather backpackers find exposure can take many forms.

Based on a post byRORI333. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

It wasn’t the 17 degree Fahrenheit temperature that had turned backpacking in the North Cascades into a life or death situation…it was the rain. As majestic as the Pacific Northwest is in late autumn, the weather can turn on you in a ferocious way! Failure to plan accordingly can lead to terrible exposure.

My friend Julie and I had set out with the intention of cold weather camping, but because of unusually heavy snowfall the access roads had limited entry to the park. The rangers advised us not to use our backcountry camping pass, but we had driven all the way from rural Oregon, and were determined to rough it out.

Julie and I met in church when we were kids, but even through youth group we never dated. Partially because I never had the courage to suggest taking our relationship beyond the best friend zone and partially because just being friends meant we could hang out together without our parents or youth leaders chaperoning us. We were both shy and inexperienced with the opposite sex having grown up in a small town church. Even though we were both eighteen now it still took some convincing and a promise that we’d use separate tents for our parents to approve the overnight outing.

Julie was athletic and curvy with pale skin, curly red hair, and bright green eyes. She was a little heavier than most of the other girls in our youth group, but it settled marvelously around her butt, and breasts, and she carried more muscle from outdoor activities. I silently adored her beauty, as she hiked in front of me. “I wonder if she ever checks me out?” I wondered as I caught myself staring at the way her wet pants clung to her behind. I’m Adam, a thin hiking and running enthusiast who has some lean muscle, but was never as built as some of the other guys in school. I didn’t play team sports so I didn’t know how my body measured up to the hometown athletes, but I had a fair idea that I was slightly more endowed than average in one area.

Several miles into our hike it started raining which didn’t seem like an urgent problem until Julie slipped on the icy wet snow and crashed down a steep embankment. She managed to grab onto some brush to slow her ascent, but was now dangling partway down a ravine that could be deadly if ascended at full speed.

“I can’t hold on Adam!” She screamed through the torrential downpour.

“Unsnap your pack!” I screamed. I was worried the added weight would cost us precious time for her to hold on. I quickly emptied my pack onto the ground and grabbed the paracord I left at the bottom. Tying part of it around a rock to anchor it, I tied a knot and threw a loop down, which she was able to carefully wrap around her torso so I could help her slowly climb up. In the process, I was violently pulled onto my front. I slammed my ribs on the rock in order to be able to pull without risking going over the slippery edge myself. With a lot of exertion I helped her back up over the edge. Julie was trembling partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline as she grabbed me for a hug and kissed my cheek.

“Stop blushing, I owe you my life!” She said as if it wasn’t the closest thing to a first kiss either one of us had experienced.

By that point all my gear was soaked and I realized we’d left the tents in her pack when we’d divided the gear. Shivering and soaking wet we pressed on for a short while until we found a rocky overhanging that I tied a poncho liner over to make a makeshift shelter front the wind and rain. It was then I noticed she had a tear down the inside of her pants and her thigh was bleeding.

“I need you to take off your pants so I can treat that wound.” I told her. She gently protested that she could do it herself so I handed her the first aid kit and turned around to give her privacy.

“Adam” she said after a minute, “I can barely move my fingers, can you help me?” I turned around and tried not to stare. She looked adorable in her jacket and wet gray cotton panties. The rain was causing her panties to stick to her and I could see the outlined shape of her vulva.

“Adam!” she snapped bringing me back to the task at hand. I cleaned the wound off, tried to get as many splinters out as I could, and wrapped it. Dressing the wound caused her legs to separate wider and I saw part of her labia peaking out from the side of her panties.

“All done!” I told her and she quickly snapped her legs shut.

While our clothes and gear were soaked, my sleeping bag was in a waterproof bag.

“Uh, I know this is awkward, but we’re going to have to get out of these wet clothes and share or we could die of hypothermia.” I told her. As dire of a situation as we were in the thought of seeing her naked caused a slight stirring below. I was probably just as nervous about undressing in my shriveled state too.

“I know we have to strip, but can we undress in the sleeping bag? I’ve never shown myself to a guy.” She was blushing and looked like she was going to cry from embarrassment.

“How about I turn around and you can strip down and get in the sleeping bag, then I’ll join you?” I offered disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see her. She nodded so I turned around until she said it was safe. Then it was my turn. She rolled over onto her other side as I turned around and stripped off my soaked shirt, jacket, boots and socks. I hooked my thumbs in my briefs and pants pulling them down in one motion. I turned around expecting to slip into the sleeping bag, behind her, and saw a pair of bright green eyes staring right at my penis. She quickly shut her eyes and rolled back over, but she had seen everything. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed that she saw me naked or that she saw me for the first time when I was cold and wet. Either way I didn’t feel like confronting her about it under the circumstances. Granted she never said she wouldn’t look, but I couldn’t believe she’d peeked after I had been such a gentleman! I felt my mostly soft penis nestle against the crevice of her butt, as I held her for warmth. We laid in awkward silence as I tried tried to ignore her hard nipples against my arm so I could get some sleep. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled before I drifted off to sleep.

“Adam,” I heard her say in the middle of the night. I didn’t open my eyes or respond right away due to exhaustion so she must have concluded I was still asleep. I felt her get up and I squinted my eyes open to see her nude form in just a pair of boots walk out the exposed part of the shelter into the moonlight. She squatted down to pee and although I couldn’t see much I did get a long look at her pale shapely bum. I was rock hard at the sight of the first naked woman I’d ever seen, but I didn’t want to get caught looking when she came in so I closed my eyes as she stood up. She tucked herself back into the bag and felt something poking her. Reaching in she grabbed hold of my shaft and quickly let go when she realized what it was. That was the last thing I remember before a beam of light hit my face several hours later.

“Wake up!” a woman’s voice said. A tall lady with a headlamp was looking down on me.

“We need to get you out here and somewhere warmer.” she informed me. I tried to respond, but couldn’t move! I struggled to retain consciousness as she she undid our sleeping bag. Julie quickly got up and all I saw was her butt, again as she was quickly wrapped in a poncho by the stranger. I was lying there with my penis completely exposed to both women, but between the bruising on my ribs and the cold I couldn’t do anything about it. The stranger after checking my ribs for obvious fractures, pulled me onto my feet, and Julie wrapped me into an emergency blanket. Her hand brushed against my penis as she tied it shut. How are we ever going to go back to normal after this I wondered? They pulled my boots on and hauled me a short ways further up the trail where I saw a large tent lit by a lantern. Inside was considerably warmer and insulated.

They gently laid me on my stomach and the stranger grabbed a medical bag.

“Get that blanket off him!” She said frantically. Julie untied the emergency blanket, and I was exposed again.

“Isn’t there another way ma'am?” I heard Julie ask.

“Hush!” the woman said, “I was a medic in the Army for twenty years. I need to know his core temperature.” I felt a pair of bare hands pull open my cheeks, and a gloved finger rub a lubricant around my anus. That’s when it dawned on me two sets of hands meant Julie who until earlier today had only seen me with my shirt off at the lake, was staring right at my anus. My thoughts were interrupted by the thermometer plunging into my hole. After a minute it beeped and and an ungloved hand wiped the lubricant off. “Julie!” I thought burning with shame.

They wrapped me in a warmer sleeping bag and rolled me onto my side so that I was facing inside the tent know. I was regaining awareness, but pretended to be asleep because I was too embarrassed to talk to them right now. The stranger, Sierra, introduced herself to Julie, and said she does volunteer search and rescue because of her medic background. She was just out camping when she saw Julie’s orange backpack at the bottom of the ravine and came looking for us.

I took my friend Tess’s virginity by accident.

by thegratian. listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

The text popped up on my screen: “Are you ready for me? I hope you’re saving up all your cum for when I see you tomorrow.”

Lysa attached a video. It was taken last summer, right before we were going to be apart for months. The video started on her face, scrunched up in pleasure, then scanned down her chest, her breasts bouncing in rhythm, nipples beautifully hard. The video kept going further down, over her toned abs, to the fuzzy dusting of blonde hair on her cunt. Further down, and I could see her flowery cunt lips opening, welcoming my cock over and over with a wet sound.

Behind the camera, I could hear myself say in a low, gruff voice, “Fuck, Lysa, I’m about to cum.”

“Cum inside me,” Lysa moaned on the video. “Cum in me, fill up my cunt; ”

On the video my cock drove deep into her, as far as it could go, then throbbed, emptying cum into her cunt. Lysa moaned off-camera. In the light of the flash, I pulled my cock from her grasping cunt, letting the cum spill out of her. As the camera tilted up, angling the shot to include not only the cum dripping from her cunt but also her heaving breasts and her face, blonde hair and eyes gazing down at me, I paused the video.

“Come on,” I typed back. “That’s not fair. You’re making it very hard to stick to our agreement.”

I’m ashamed to admit that quitting masturbation for three weeks was a harder task than I’d expected, but my girlfriend was going to be out of town for that whole time, and I’d agreed to save it for her. Lysa loved cum more than anything, and I was happy to oblige her, knowing the pent up passion would make my first time back inside her extra good.

Our junior year of college ended three weeks ago, so our whole friend group had gone down to my friend Henry’s family’s place in the Catskills for a vacation before starting our summer jobs. Lysa had to visit family, so she was only coming for the last chunk of the trip.

“Only 16 more hours,” Lysa texted back. “I get in late tonight.”

“Wake me up when you do,” I texted with a flirty emoji.

“I’ve got a few ideas of how.” She attached another picture, this one of her with two fingers buried inside her wet cunt.

“I’m blocking you,” I joked. “Too much teasing, and it’s only 9 A.M.”

From the door of my room, I heard a knock.

“One second,” I called out, before texting Lysa: “Have to go, big day of hiking ahead.” I put my phone down next to me, then yelled to the door: “Come in!”

Tess stepped through the door, looking alert and chipper in athletic clothing. She took in the room, frowning.

“We’ve been here one night and it looks like a tornado hit your room.”

My best friend from childhood, Tess grew up two streets away from me. We were even each other’s first kiss when we were 12. But that was all long ago. Both of us had chosen the same college, several states away from our hometown, and remained good friends. I can’t say people didn’t ask about me and Tess, though. She was undeniably beautiful: big blue eyes below dark eyebrows, high cheekbones and angular features, chestnut-brown hair tied in a tight braid. And yes, I had spent my teenage years observing the changes in her body, watching as she grew into a stunning, willowy woman with a shapely ass and breasts that were on the smaller side but perfectly fit her short frame. I knew she was beautiful, but our relationship was never really romantic (not counting the first kiss), which suited us perfectly. We worked too well as friends to risk anything. Besides, she had been the one to introduce me to Lysa, and Tess was dating Henry.

“You know how I feel about putting clothes in drawers while on vacation. Besides, you don’t have to share my room,” I said. I stealthily tucked my semi-hard cock into my waistband and stood, brushing past her to pick up one of the shirts from the ground. Sniffing it, I put it on.

“You’re horrible,” Tess said with a laugh. “Anyway, I was just coming to rouse you for breakfast. Everyone else is done eating, but what else is new?”

“Should I pack a hat? It’s supposed to get up to the 90s, right?”

“I don’t know. Henry and Greg were saying there’s a chance of rain. Can I check the weather on your phone?”

“Go for it.”

Tess picked up my phone, then let out a yelp and dropped it. She blushed furiously “Holy crap, whoops! Sorry!”

“What?” I crossed to the bed and picked up my phone. Lysa had texted one last picture, this one a closeup of us having sex. The caption read: “Don’t tire yourself out too much.” Tess had picked up my phone only to get an eyeful of my hard cock, wet and veiny, stretching out her friend’s cunt.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that would be up on my phone,” I said, embarrassed. “Lysa’s been; sending me stuff in preparation for her getting in tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I get it.” Tess blushed even deeper, then paused. “I; I only looked for a second, so I barely saw anything.”

“No, of course.” It was more flustered than I’d seen her in a long time. Neither of us knew what to say.

“I’ll just check the weather on my own phone,” Tess said, and left.

Tess came from a religious family, so her reaction wasn’t unexpected. When you’re raised by parents who don’t even mention the existence of sex to you, it can be tough to bounce back. I’d been the one to explain sex to her, one day when we were teenagers, coming back from school. Even so, by now I figured she’d gotten over the embarrassment and shame surrounding sex, considering she was dating Henry, but she was still fairly innocent. Then again, she had just been surprised with a closeup picture of her two friends having sex, so who wouldn’t be embarrassed?

I’m sure that was it, I thought as I got dressed for the hike. Regular embarrassment.

Despite my late start, a few cups of black coffee jolted me into alertness for the hike. Our other friends, Marina, Bo, and Sarah, were experienced hikers who were glad to drag us along at their fast pace, up trails with pine needles that covered treacherous rocks and roots. I spent most of the hike watching where I put my foot, expecting to twist an ankle any second. When I did hike without my eyes glued to the ground, I found them drawn up perfect, strong, slender legs to Tess’s ass in her tight athletic shorts. She was walking ahead of me, holding hands with Henry.

I shook my head. Clearly, a mixture of Lysa’s teasing and the sexual frustration of the last few weeks had turned me into a dog, slobbering over anything with the slightest female form.

We stopped for water at a clearing that looked out over the miles of trees below us. As I drank from my water bottle, Henry pulled me aside.

“Can I ask you something, man? It’s about Tess.”

“What’s up?” I thought maybe Tess had told him about the picture she’d seen of Lysa and me and prepared to apologize.

“Tess and I have been dating for like four months now, and; ” he paused, a little awkward. “I know this is weird, since you guys have been friends forever, but I’m just gonna say it: I kinda thought we’d be doing more, sexually, by now. All we’ve done is dry humping, nothing below the clothes.”

Hearing that was surprising, but not completely unexpected. So Tess was still a virgin. I don’t know how that made me feel. Part of me was bummed for my friends that they were missing out on all the great things sex had to offer, but another part of me, one I didn’t realize was there, felt a flash of; something. Not surprise, but maybe lust. I tried not to show emotion on my face as he went on:

“She’s said she’s waiting for marriage to actually have sex, which I totally understand, but do you think she’d want to do anything more than just makeout and dry hump? Not even just for me. I’d love to make her; finish, you know.”

“I haven’t talked with her about it,” I said truthfully. “It’s not the sort of thing we discuss.”

“Do you know if she’s ever gone further than that with her previous boyfriends?”

“What previous boyfriends?” Tess had never dated anyone seriously before Henry. Heck, the only reason I knew she was straight in high school was that she’d talk about having crushes on boys, but when I’d tell her to do something, she’d refuse. “If I were you, dude, I’d just let her lead the way. She does what she wants, but not before she’s ready.”

On the way back down the mountain I watched Tess with more curiosity. It certainly explained her reaction to the picture; she was totally inexperienced, so maybe it was more disgust at what she had seen. I felt bad for just leaving my phone open. I knew her well enough to know her reaction wouldn’t be one of judgment, but it had to make her uncomfortable. I resolved to apologize when I got the chance.

By the end of the hike we were all dripping with sweat. As Tess pulled her shirt up to mop off her flushed face, I could make out the tender curve of her breasts beneath her sports bra, and, I noted with another pang somewhere in my stomach, surprisingly hard nipples. When she lowered the shirt she was looking right at me. I looked away, too late.

Damn, I thought, cursing the fact that Lysa wouldn’t return for another eight or nine hours. I just needed to stop myself from getting horny for long enough not to do something stupid.

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed,” Henry said, getting up. It was late at night and we’d put on a movie after the night of drinking had wound down. Just about everybody had drifted off from the movie and gone to sleep, save for me, Henry, and Tess, who’d seen it through to the end. We were all tired, dressed for bed.

“I’ll be right there,” Tess said, as Henry wandered off groggily. Then she turned to me, a small smile on her lips. “T minus two hours until Lysa gets here. Are you excited?”

“Of course. I miss her a lot.”

“I mean, are you; excited?” Tess said, gesturing down at my crotch.

“Ha ha ha,” I said sarcastically.

Tess sat in a comfortable recliner across from me, her legs crossed under her. Without realizing, my eyes drifted down her pajama-clad form and I saw with a start that she wasn’t wearing panties under her loose pajama shorts. I could make out a dark bush and the tight cleft at the top of what seemed to be her beautiful innie cunt. Of course she wasn’t shaven, I thought, my cock beginning to thicken. She’d never even had sex.

“I guess she hasn’t been too far away, what with all those pictures,” Tess said.

She shifted on the chair. I got an even better view of her bush, and through it her neat cunt lips.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. You didn’t have to see that.” I tore my eyes away from the faint glimpse of her cunt.

“No, I liked it,” Tess said. “The wifi’s terrible out here, so my porn has been taking forever to load. Easier to just get it of the two of you.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” I joked.

“Is there?”

I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was bluffing. We’d both had a lot to drink, but the several hours of the movie had sobered us up. She didn’t usually speak this brazenly.

“Yeah. Videos, too.”

Tess’s face was now as pink as mine. Was she not joking around?

“Can I see?”

“Should I airdrop them, or just email?”

Tess stood up and moved across the room to me. My heart started to beat fast. I couldn’t stand up, because I was rock hard.

“Show me.”

Trying not to let my hands shake, I opened my phone. I pulled up the picture she’d seen, the closeup on Lysa’s cunt with my bare cock drilling into it.

“Really?” I asked.

Tess nodded. She leaned down, and I caught the soft curve of her small breast down her sleep shirt. I hesitated, then thought, Fuck it. I turned the phone to her. She drank in the picture onscreen with her eyes.

“I’ve already seen this one,” she whispered, sending a shiver up my spine. This was bad. I was too horny. I should lock my phone and get out of here. I swiped to the next one; the video of me and Lysa, paused with the cum trickling out of her cunt, her tits and face in the shot.

“Where are you?”

I rewound the video. The only sound in the room was the slick squishing sound of me entering Lysa, then her moaning. Tess’s mouth was half-open as she watched.

“Fuck, Lysa, I’m about to cum.” At that, I quickly paused the video, returning to my senses. This was too much. Too personal. Lysa wouldn’t want me showing intimate videos of us to one of our best friends. And did I really want Tess to see my cock? I was more drunk than I thought. And so was she, if she allowed it.

Posing Leads To;

Artwork leads to passion for virgin coed.

By SoCaliDude. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I’m a 19-year-old sophomore at Pasadena City College where Ron, 24, graduated a few years earlier. He’s now a junior at CSU Fulerton.

Ron and I met at a retirement event for our favorite teacher, Joe Keene.

I’m a 5-7, average blonde, brown eyes and freckles. Ron is 5 foot 10 with brown hair and green eyes. Folks say I’m shy, but Ron say’s my smile is captivating. while Ron could talk to anyone. His friend Joe suggested that we date, but I wanted friendship to prevent dating "distractions."

I’m was an art major. Ron is a media major.

Later, Ron bumped into me at Nicodel's, a popular Colorado Boulevard lunch spot across the street from P.C.C. Many of us ate there as our campus cafeteria was awful. As in really awful. Nic's had great food, was quiet with red brick and plenty of plants.

When Ron arrived, I was in a, rear, booth, crying. When he asked why, I told him the guy I hired to pose for my final figure project took my $100 and walked out.

"I had to draw him today,, I sobbed. It's my final project; I am ruined!"

"What were you drawing? Why $100?"

"Silly boy, it was a figure pose; as in nude;" I explained.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't know; I bet there are plenty of guys, on campus, who will get naked for you;"

"Yea, right," I responded. "They will want something other than $100, and I am, now, broke and I don't want their STD. This is a major project. I am in, awful. trouble, here;"

"If you need a naked man, and put someone else's face, I could volunteer if you let me take naked pictures of you for my photo class;"

"Seriously?" I said. "Kind of like me posing for Playboy? That is a college girl's fantasy."

"Seriously;" Ron responded. "My SLR is in my car. I just need some 400 film, for natural light. Do you really want to pose nude?"

"I really need this grade; I am not much to look at; Covered with freckles and a hairy bush. I hope I don't scare you away;"

"You won't scare me. I lost my v-card last year and hairy pussies turn me on.."

"I hope you aren't planning sex," I admitted. "I've never even seen a naked guy and still am a virgin.."

We walked to his car, drove to the store-for film, and to my house;

"My mom is on the closing crew-at Sears, so we have about six hours of time;"

Ron dropped me at her door and parked his Camaro on the street; probably not believing I would see me, naked, within the hour; He knocked on the front door, I shouted, "It's unlocked, walk in. I am changing into my bathrobe;"

He walked in, shut the door behind him, and I greeted him in a plush, white, robe and walked him to our family room. I turned around and dropped my robe, revealing my natural pine-cone shaped breasts, covered with freckles and a, very, bushy pussy; He couldn't help getting rock-hard, and dropped his jogging shorts and briefs and removed his t-shirt, revealing his plush hairy chest and crotch. This nude project was, quickly, moving forward;

I, quickly, grabbed my sketchpad, then, told him to stand on the end table, and started to draw him as his cock, shrank in his nervousness. I quickly, started drawing, acting as if he & I weren’t nude; I was just another model-to him;

I placed the sketch pad in my lap, covering my bushy pubes. However, my excited nipples pointed directly at him. For the first time, my good friend, was sexually attracting me, causing him to get hard, again. I acted like I didn't seem to mind, just smiled as I sketched.

About an hour, later, I concluded my work, stood up and showed him the final product, having added longer hair and a beard with goatee, to protect his anonymity, walked up, hugged, and French-kissed him, saying, "Thank you for saving my grade."

Ron had me stand next to the curtain, and took a, single, frontal nude, for his side of our deal. He said I was beautiful!

As he laid down on the comforter, on the sofa, I gathered up my nerves and gave into some new aroused passion, and shocked him by placing my pussy above his cock. Ireached for his manhood, which, quickly, became erect, saying, "We've done everything except make love," kissing him, again, as I slid onto him, popping my cherry, and surrendering my virginity.

"This is fantastic!" I shouted, as we joined, in passion. "I never dreamed sex would be this great!"

He gasped as he entered my warm, wet, hairy, pussy. I was in shock, then, quickly, reacted, as we pumped, together. Soon, we both "came" as Ron shook. Then, I grabbed the, bloody, sheet from the sofa, dumped it in the washer "to destroy the evidence," then led him to the shower "to wash off more evidence." All of our bathing had his cock, rock-hard, though, as we French-kissed under the shower; When he attempted to slide himself into my hairy pussy, I stopped him, saying; "Let's go to my bed. Now!"

Moments later, he was eating my hairy pussy and stroking my breasts as I screamed in ecstasy, "Oh, oh, please don't stop. Your tongue, Right There on my clit! Oh my; Oh My; Uh!" before my first oral orgasm thunderstruck my body into convulsions!

He gently held me as I returned from orbit; As I moaned in pleasure; .

"That was so, freaking awesome!" I sighed; "I didn't think I was capable of feeling so great! Can I keep your tongue at my command?"

"I don't give it away, I laughed. Love my tongue, love me; And my tongue comes with a cock, that wants to be inside your bushy pussy! He is turned on by you;" He said; .

I pulled Ron on top of me and he sucked my breasts as he slid his rock-hard, cock inside my soaking wet pussy; We rocked, together, missionary, kissing and stroking into a mutual climax and creampie before spooning to sleep;"

"Robyn? Robyn? Who is that with you? We woke up to the sound of my mother's surprise in the bedroom; "This is my, uh, friend, Mark, from school;"

"You are naked, under the covers, together;" said my mom; "You are closer than most friends;"

"You are right," I responded. "Mark saved my art project by posing for me when my model bailed out. Mark is a sweet man from school and I gave him my virginity after his tongue sent my pussy past the milky way; I hope he wants to stick around; I've crushed on him at school and want to share our lives;"

"Thanks for making my girl happy!" Mother said to Ron; "I hope you two used protection;"

"Don't worry," I assured mom; My period starts in two days; "I am in my safe zone; Which is great, because I want Mark's cock, again, as soon as you give us some privacy; Goodbye, mom!"

As soon as mom left the room, I rolled over and slid his cock into me, doggy-style; We rocked, into a passionate, mutual climax; together;

by SoCaliDude for Literotica

Matching Day: Part 2

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sun, 03 May 2026 01:39:00 +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

Matching Day: Part 1

steamystories.podcast@gmail.com (Steamy Stories) — Sat, 02 May 2026 01:38:00 +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?"

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 2

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

Her Spontaineous Breastgasms: Part 2

Reliving a strange phenomenon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"As we all were," I interjected.

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

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1

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

Stacey’s Breastgasms: Part 1.

A high school reunion brings back fond mammories.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

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

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

"You're sorry for making me cum?"

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

Geekz And Freakz: Part 4

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

Geekz And Freakz: Part 4

Thomas finds intimacy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to isolation.

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

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

Nico s New Personality.

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

"Can I talk to you?"

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

"How have you been?" I asked her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"At least another ten minutes. Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Summer of Change.

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

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

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

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

Nico.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kelly's name and address appeared on the screen.

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

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

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

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

"Goodbye, Thomas. I love you."

Seasons In The Sun.

Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die.

When all the birds are singing in the sky.

Now that the spring is in the air.

Pretty girls are everywhere.

Think of me and I'll be there.

We had joy, we had fun.

We had seasons in the sun.

But the hills that we climbed.

Were just seasons out of time.

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

Back on campus.

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

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

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

Her smile grew.

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

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

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

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

"How well did you know her?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Were there many guys?" I asked quietly.