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part4
Monday, June 8th, 2009crosslegged in the middle of the floor.
“Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Harold aped, sitting in an
identical position in across from him.
“Repeat after me.” Michael said quietly. “Owha…”
“Owha…”
“Tajer…”
“Tajer…”
“Kiyam.”
“Kiyam.”
“Now repeat the whole thing.” Michael said.
“Ohwa… Tajer… Kiyam…” Harold droned, eyes closed.
Michael got up a bit stiffly, and said, “I’ll be back in a few
minutes. Keep repeating this, a little faster each time, until I return.”
and closed the door quietly behind him. He limped down to the kitchen (that
lotus position gets harder on the knees every year) and grabbed a couple
beers.
As expected, when he got back, Harold was not chanting. Instead he
glared at Michael with all the indignity he could muster. “Very funny.”
Michael sat in the recliner. “That, my dear boy, was the Tibetian
Mantra for Self Realization.” He grinned, “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.
Besides, if you really were a jerk, you would have still been chanting when
I got back, and then I’d have *known* there was no hope for you.”
Harold glared a moment longer, then they both broke up laughing.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Harold said, “Still, it was a cheap shot.”
Michael leaned forward, offering Harold a beer. “Actually, it was
intended to illustrate a serious point. To wit: just because you’ve fooled
yourself into believing something, that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Harold popped the top on the can, which promptly foamed into his lap.
“Shit.” he grunted, looking around for a towel. “You mean I’ve been wasting
my time this last two weeks with all this meditation stuff?”
“Not at all. You are becoming quite adept at controlling your
voluntary reactions and senses. You haven’t complained about the heat here
at all for the last several days.” Now that Harold thought about it, he
really wasn’t feeling the heat at all. Michael continued, “In fact, I’ve
never seen anyone advance so fast. No, I’d say you’re well on your way to
conquering your ejaculation problem. It’s your other problem I’m really
concerned about.”
“Oh? And just what problem is that?” Harold asked suspiciously.
“I think you know what I’m talking about. Your insistance that you
define your sexual abilities by the ability to postpone orgasm. I think
you’re going to find that that doesn’t mean very much in the real world.
What you’re really lacking is confidence and self-knowledge. You need to
know your capabilites and trust in them in order to BE capable. Being able
to have intercourse as long as you like is a fine thing, but you’re going
to find that not that many women are going to be impressed by that ability
alone.”
Harold was shaken. “You mean this isn’t going to solve my problem?”
Michael rolled his eyes upwards. “At last he begins to see the light.
I talked to Julie the other day and she says-”
“You’ve talked to her?” Harold interrupted anxiously. “Where is she?
How’s she doing?”
“Calm down, calm down. She’s doing fine, she just has a few things to
work out. She actually called to see how you’re doing. Apparently that
night you shared together has affected her as strongly as it did you.”
Harold’s eyes became dreamy “Wow.”
“Anyway,” Michael continued drily, “as I was saying, Julie commented
that your abilities were quite remarkable. Yet you persist in believing
that you are inadequete, just because one person told you that you were.
That shows a very serious lack of self confidence. Do you see what I’m
saying?”
Harold thought it over a long moment. “Maybe… But how do I get this
confidence?”
“You have to know yourself.” Michael concluded. “And doing this is not
the easiest thing in the world. You have to go out and do things. You have
to explore. If you just sit around being a mass of untapped potential then
you will never know what that potential is. You cannot be confident in
something you do not know.”
“Okay,” Harold said, a bit confused, “So what’s all this got to do
with what’s going on right now?”
“I’m glad you asked. I think it’s time we tested some of that
potential right now.” Michael got up and opened the door. “Diane,” he
called. A moment later one of the most stunning women Harold had ever seen
in his life walked in. “Harold, this is Diane. Diane, Harold.”
Diane offered her hand and Harold took it briefly. “Hello, Harold.”
she said, in a low, husky voice. She stood about six inches shorter than he
did, and had a lithe, well-proportioned body. Harold felt almost helpless
to prevent his eyes from travelling downward, from her shoulder-length
auburn hair to small, pert breasts contained in a red tank-top to long,
tanned legs, very well set off by her rather brief white shorts. Suddenly,
self-consciously, he jerked back up where her beautiful hazel eyes met his
in a penetrating gaze. She slipped her hand from his and walked over to the
window, hips swaying just the right amount to hold his attention captive.
Then she turned back to him and stood there, one hand on cocked hip, fixing
him again with that gaze.
Harold swallowed hard and shoved one hand in his pocket, to conceal
the bulge that was growing there. There was nothing physically remarkable
about this woman. All her power and sexuality was in the way she moved, the
way she held herself. As Tom had often said: “It’s not what you got so much
as how you show it.” A wave of pure lust swept over Harold. He wanted this
woman more than any he had ever seen in his life, yet her self assurnace
frightened him, as if telling him this was more woman that he could ever
handle.
Then Michael cleared his throat and the spell snapped. Diane relaxed
and became a mere mortal again, leaning against the windowframe and
grinning like someone who had just played a grand joke. Harold felt as if
he had been doused with cold water from the inside out and the bulge in his
pants quickly receded. He swallowed drily. “That’s… some act.”
“Thanks.” She said, her voice now quite ordinary. “I always get a kick
out of doing that. Before I came here, guys used to ignore me in droves.
Now I can get ‘em drooling any time I please. I don’t do it very often, but
it’s nice to know that I can.”
“Diane came here about four years ago.” Michael said, in his best
college professor voice. “Her circumstances weren’t all that different from
yours, in fact. She felt she had all kinds of faults and deficiencies, but
her biggest problem was that she simply didn’t know herself. Under my
guidence, she quickly learned who she really was and what she could do.” He
turned to her and asked, “What was it you were doing before you came here?
I forget.”
She appeared to ponder it for a moment. “Oh, yeah. I almost forgot
about it. I was waitressing down at Ptomaine Palace for minimum wage and
living with this guy who would slap me around because he said sex with me
was ‘boring’. Finally the fucker ran off, leaving me with a lease I
couldn’t afford to pay. My fondest fantasy is to track him down someday and
put his ass in the hospital.” A feral gleam suddenly appeared in her eye
and Harold felt a chill running down his spine. “Anyway, after the landlord
threw me out a friend introduced me to Michael. After hearing my story he
gave me free room and board for as long as I needed it, and lectures every
day. After a while I quit resenting it and started to really listen to what
…End of the part4. To be continued..
Friday, June 5th, 2009
It took a moment for Harold to recover from his surprise. He swallowed
drylysand said, “So, I guess we meet again.”
She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, seemingly
unconcerned over her partial nudity. She made no attempt to cover herself
at all. “I remember you from the crowd at the vollyball game. When I lost
my top I was embarassed as hell, but I was going to be damned if I’d let
anyone see that. I saw every male in the crowd was drooling, but when I
looked around and saw you… there was something else in your eyes. You
looked so incredibly sad.”
“I didn’t know it showed.” Harold mumbled. “I was… well… thinking
just about the same thing as everybody else.” He turned red and averted his
eyes in shame.
“Oh, I know that.” she replied matter-of-factly “I’ve been getting
looks like that since I was twelve years old. I’m used to getting stared at
and hit on a lot, so I just learned to deal with it without getting mad.
Actually, it does a lot for my ego. I don’t know what it was, though, but
you really stood out in that crowd, at least to me. I’ve always been good
at picking up feelings.”
“And you felt sorry for me.” Harold said baldly. He should have known
he had misinterpreted that look. “When our eyes met that time, I almost
thought, well…”
She smiled and patted a place on the bed next to her. “Why not come
over here and sit down? You can’t be too comfortable all curled up in a
ball in the corner.”
Harold sighed and got up painfully. She was right. It wasn’t too
comfortable. He sat on the bed about two feet away from her. It took
considerable effort to keep his eyes off her chest. He was surprised to
find his mouth had gone dry and his heart was pounding. “Um, can I ask a
question?”
“Sure” She answered.
“If you were so, um, embarassed when you lost your top earlier, why
aren’t you wearing it now?”
“Because it’s uncomfortable. The damn string’s been digging into my
neck all day and it’s sore as hell.” she lifted her hair up and showed him
a red weal as the base of her neck. “I should have worn a nice, sensable
tank top. And I was embarassed because I got caught by surprise. Otherwise
I wouldn’t have cared. I’m not ashamed of my body at all. Does this bother
you?”
“No.” Harold said quickly. Then he reconsidered. “Well, a little.”
“See?” she smiled, “I told you you might like it better with the light
off.”
“Oh, not at all.” Harold said hurredly, “They’re definitely worth
looking at.” then he winced, realizing what he said. “I mean, YOU’RE
definitely worth-”
But she was laughing, a very pretty sound indeed. She waved him off,
“I know what you meant. I’m flattered, really. You know, red’s your color.”
she said, making Harold blush even harder. “But that’s nasty of me.”
The talk died off and the silence stretched between them like putty as
they both sat alone with their thoughts. Finally she said, almost shyly,
“You know, I didn’t entirely feel sorry for you. You’re not that bad
looking.” Harold looked at her wonderingly. She moved over until she was
right next to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re no Tom Selleck or anything,
but I decided a long time ago that most of the really good looking guys are
too hung up on themselves to give a woman the attention she wants. You seem
really nice.”
Her shoulder and hip pressed against his warmly. Her weight on the bed
pulling him towards her, her very presence, that oh so luscious body, all
burned in his mind like a red-hot firebrand. Almost without thinking, he
put an arm around her shoulders. “And I think you’re very beautiful. What
else can I say?” his other hand came up and froze, uncertainly. Her eyes
locked on his and without a word she reached up placed his hand on her bare
breast.
“Why say anything?” and she silenced any possible reply with an open
mouthed kiss.
He massaged her breast tenderly, feeling it’s weight, it’s smoothness,
running his thumb gently over the rapidly hardening nipple. Her tongue
darted playfully into his mouth, only to retreat. Then it came out again
more slowly and met with his, intertwining in powerful intimacy that made
his head spin. Then she withdrew slowly.
Ending the kiss, he ran his open mouth gently down along the line of
her jaw, to her ear, which he explored, making her giggle. He moved to her
neck, taking a moment to kiss away the pain of the weal there, before
moving farther down.
Nor was she idle while he did this. Her hands ran along his sides, up
under his shirt, exploring. Then she reached down and undid his pants,
reaching inside to caress his blossoming erection with a light, tingling
touch.
He had moved down to her chest now, and he roamed freely with his
tongue, using a feathery touch that made her shiver. Around and around the
curving softness of her breast, finally centering on the fully erect
nipple, which he plunged into his mouth, sucking gently. Again and again he
did this, finally moving over to the other side. His hands explored her
back, her sides, her thighs, moving with smooth surety.
With a sigh she reclined back onto the bed, grasping the zipper on her
cut-offs and pulling it down slowly. The fabric parted gladly, after
straing all day to hold together, and golden feathery pubic hair poked
through the gap, glimmering faintly in the light from the dresser lamp. She
grasped the sides of the shorts and pulled them down over her long legs,
finally kicking them off onto the floor. Harold was not surprised at all to
see she wore no underwear. With a great sigh she stretched out on the bed,
glorious in her nakedess. Harold could only stare until she looked back at
him and said, “Well…?”
He hesitated for the slightest of instances. Something deep inside his
mind gibbered. This is just like before, it said. Get out of here now. Get
out before you humiliate yourself again! Now, fool!
And he almost listened. Almost, until something much older and
stronger took control of his thoughts and squashed the voice completely.
All doubt dissappeared as he stripped off all his clothes, put the light
out, and climbed onto the bed.
“Why did you turn off the light?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“Why not? Habit, I guess.” he replied, turning his attentions back to
her. Suddenly he stopped, “I just realized, I don’t know your name.”
“I was wondering when you would get around to that.” she said. “I’m
Julie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Julie. I’m Harol… Harry.” On a moment of
whimsey, he added, “Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Sure.” She replied, “But right now let’s fuck.” And they both broke
up laughing.
But the laughter quickly faded as Harry returned to the matter at
hand. With his mouth and hands he continued to explore the soft curves of
her body, her hips, her navel, slowly, inexhorably moving towards one
definite spot. His fingers playfully toyed with her pubic hair as he moved
his tongue slowly up along her inner thigh. Her breathing had speeded up
noticably as she bent her knees and spread her legs. Harry settled himself
down with his face between her thighs. His fingers pulled aside the labia,
exposing the delicate folds of flesh within. Gently he began to probe
inside with his tongue.
Her breathing became even more rapid and her hips began to move up and
down in sensuous rhythem. His tongue explored deeper until he found what he
was looking for, the fleshy knob of the clitoris. His nose pressed hard
…End of the part1. To be continued..
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Wednesday, May 6th, 2009Have you ever held on to the same fantasy for years and finally, long after
you’d given up hope of it ever coming true it does. It’s like getting a
Christmas present in February. It’s not anything you expect, but it sure
can make you happy. That’s just what happened to me.
Before I share it with you I’ll give you a little background. I was
introduced to the pleasures of sucking cock at the tender age of 15 by one
of the neighborhood tough guys, who was a couple of years older than me.
He thought he was pretty cool, Mr. BadAss “forcing” another guy to polish
his knob, but he soon discovered that you can’t force the eager. It may
have burst his bubble to learn that I liked it, but it didn’t prevent him
from seeking me out. It was after all the perfect arrangement; he liked
being sucked; I liked sucking.
He gave me lots of practice; by the time I turned 16 I was a fairly adept
pole smoker. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy doing my neighbor, but after
taking his load at least 150 times I wanted to expand out to new (and
hopefully bigger) things. I looked at any good looking guy I saw as someone
who I could suck if the opportunity arose. It was just a matter of time
before something happened.
That summer, having just got my license, I wanted my own car. My dad made
me a deal. He owned a small manufacturing company. He’d front me the
money for my wheels, but I’d have to pay off my loan by working for him
during all school vacations. Who could pass up a deal like that? So that’s
how I met Eric.
Eric was 20 years old and everything I considered a super hunk to be. He
had short-cropped, sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes, an All-American,
Saturday Evening Post kind of face together with a body that nearly took my
breath away the first time I saw him. He was my definition of
masculine. There’s no denying it, I was in lust at first sight. From the
moment I noticed the bulge protruding from the crotch of his jeans I wanted
to do nothing less than drop to my knees and worship it.
Eric had worked for my dad since his senior year in high school, but we’d
never met. I knew him by reputation only. Dad really liked him, saying he
was a hard and willing worker and dad was never one to hand out compliments
or praise just for the sake of doing so. At the time Eric was sort of a
jack of all trades, learning the entire operation from the ground up. Dad
had great hopes for advancing him as the business grew and prospered. My
summer job was going to be to take over running the outside errands and
office boy duties that he’ been doing while he became more involved in
learning the production end of the business.
Of course this meant that for the first couple of weeks I would be working
with Eric while he trained me. As far as I was concerned this was the
perfect arrangement and I determined to have him before the two weeks were
up. To understand where I was coming from, or at least to put it into
perspective, you need to know that I was an only child with asthma and I’d
become used to getting my own way. Not that I got everything just for the
asking, but if I was willing to work and plot, I usually got what I
wanted. Add to this the fact that I’d led a very sheltered life, despite
the fact that I’d been sucking cock for over a year, and really didn’t know
much about sex in the real world. So it’s somewhat understandable that it
didn’t occur to me that anybody would see anything wrong with one guy
wanting to suck another off, and I certainly didn’t realize that a guy who
enjoyed sex might turn down the offer of a blow job. Not even the fact that
Eric was married with one kid and another on the way deterred me in my
quest.
I certainly didn’t waste any time. We’d been out on the road alone for
about 20 minutes when, not even trying to maneuver the conversation toward
sex I just came out and asked,
“Eric have you ever had a blow job?”
He looked pretty shocked, at least by the abruptness of the question, he
laughed a little nervously and said, “course I’ve had a blow job. I’m
married aren’t I?”
I didn’t know what to say so I blurted out the first thing that came to my
tongue, “your wife blows you?” I’ll admit I felt more than a little stupid.
…End of the part1. To be continued..
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My Beautiful Black Slut part3
Sunday, March 29th, 2009smaller man’s shoulder. My wife never wore a bra around the house and
I now realised that, apart from her panties, she was naked before the
two men.
“Black tits taste good, man!” laughed the smaller assailant as he
began to suck on Corina’s dark nipples. I had almost accepted the
situation now – I realised that the two men would take my wife in
front of me and that there was nothing I could do about it. I just
hoped that Corina wouldn’t struggle too much so they could finish
quickly and leave.
As his fellow attacker mauled and sucked on my wife’s tits, the big
guy began to strip. Obviously a farm worker, his body was tanned
through long hours working in the fields. But his skin was still much
paler than Corina’s and, as he sat on the sofa and pulled her towards
him, I was struck by the contrast that their two different coloured
bodies made.
“Let’s see if you like the taste of a real man’s cock!” he growled as
he proudly presented a large, straining erection to my wife’s face.
“Shit! My kid brother’s got a bigger dick than that! Is that the best
that you two can do?”
My mind reeled as I tried to comprehend the incredible words that
Corina had just voiced. I was stunned, I had never heard her use such
language before.
For a moment, the larger man also seemed to lose the plot and stared
down at her incredulously. But then a wide grin spread over his face
and he laughed loudly.
“Sure, bitch! I know all you blacks like to fuck your kin! Now suck on
this like a good little whore and we won’t have to smack your old man
up again!”
I looked on as Corina gazed straight into the man’s eyes and slowly
lowered her head towards his turgid penis. Her lips opened wide and
she drew the weapon deeply into her hot, wet mouth. The big guy moaned
as she began to fellate him slowly; licking up and down his shaft and
swallowing the bulbous knob deep into her throat.
While his buddy was getting the best blow-job of his miserable life,
the smaller guy wanted to get back in on the action as well. As I
watched, shamefully aware that I was now as hard as a rock, the wiry
little man kneeled down on the floor and quickly ripped Corina’s
panties off. My stomach churned over and my head swam as I saw the
moisture between my wife’s thighs. I hadn’t wanted her to resist, but
she actually looked like she was beginning to enjoy herself!
The small man pressed his face ap against her vagina from behind and I
looked on as his long, pink tongue darted out and swiped lavishly over
Corina’s wet labia. He used his fingers to peel the lips back and
laughed as her stiff little clitoris suddenly popped into view.
Corina moaned loudly around the hard cock in her mouth as she felt his
oral caresses and I saw her push herself back lewdly onto his face as
she tried to get as much contact with him as possible. Her face
contorted in a lustful grimace as she was eaten out so expertly from
behind. She was groaning almost constantly around the fat dick in her
mouth and this was causing the big man to buck his hips and ram his
throbbing weapon up into her mouth with every thrust. There was now no
doubt in my mind that no force or coercion was being used on her – her
face told the truth; she wasn’t just enjoying this, she was loving
every second. My belief’s were confirmed a few seconds later when,
letting the cock slip from between her lips, her head fell back and
she howled out in a high pitched squeal of lust as an obvious orgasm
thundered through her quivering body.
With a juice smeared face, the small guy quickly stood and stripped of
his clothes. As he removed his pants I was surprised to see that,
quite contrary to his body, his penis was long and thick. For a second
or two he massaged the shaft in his hand running his fingers up and
over his knob end and smearing the pre-cum that had leaked out over
his purple glans.
…End of the part3. To be continued..
