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  • A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 2
    A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 2.
    The Consummations. 

    Based on a post by  MoonlitOpal.  Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.

    Sam's eyes grew wide as he grinned.

    "You really did think of everything, didn't you?"

    "Yep." I placed the box on

    the table beside the couch, then stood before Sam and slowly took off my dress.
    I was trembling with excitement, and as his hungry stare moved over me, I felt
    my nipples harden beneath my stretch lace underwire bra.

    "You're beautiful, Iris," he

    whispered.

    I grinned and went to Sam, leaning

    forward so I could give him a deep kiss. Then I climbed onto the couch,
    kneeling beside him. Without speaking, I began trying to unfasten his pants,
    but my hands were shaking so much, I struggled with the simple task.

    I was grateful when Sam took over. Once

    he had his pants and underwear down around his thighs, I stared at his glorious
    erection, which pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

    Looking up at Sam's face again, I saw

    that his gaze was pleading, full of the same need overtaking me, and I wanted
    more than anything to make him feel good. Extending my hand, I wrapped my
    fingers around his cock, and it twitched in my grasp. As I began gently
    stroking, Sam let his head fall back, a low groan emerging from deep in his
    throat.

    I delighted in the silkiness of his

    flesh. Sliding the pad of my thumb over his cock head, I felt a drop of
    moisture. My mouth watered when I thought about tasting it.

    Eagerly I leaned forward, brushing my

    lips against his purple cock tip. Now Sam was trembling, too, and his obvious
    excitement made me brave enough to swirl my tongue all around the lovely
    mushroom head. The slight saltiness of his skin, combined with a trace of
    sweetness from his pre-cum, filled me with carnal lust.

    "Iris," he moaned while

    brushing my hair back from my face. Grasping his erection, I planted kisses
    along the entire length of his rigid veiny shaft. I inhaled his scent, which
    only heightened my arousal. I was soaking wet between my thighs.

    Finally I wrapped my lips constricting

    tight around Sam's throbbing cock. The sound of his heavy breathing competed
    with the volume of the dramatic organ music from the television, and the
    flickering light from the horror movie screen, fell on my face as I did my best
    to pleasure him.

    I wasn't able to take much at first. As

    soon as his cock reached the back of my tongue, I had to suppress my gag
    reflex. He was careful not to thrust his hips, instead letting me set the pace.
    I recalled the technique of relaxing my throat and tongue. While saliva
    trickled from my mouth to coat his cock, I stroked him, then lowered my lips until
    I reached my hand.

    "Ah, fuck!" he cried.

    "Iris, that feels so good!"

    I'd never heard Sam use vulgar words

    before, and I took it as a compliment. He seemed lost to his lust, and to the
    feel of my licking and sucking and stroking. I tried again to take him deeper,
    exhaling as another inch of his cock disappeared between my lips.

    It was then that I felt Sam caress my

    back, his fingertips running along my spine. While I fondled his balls and used
    my tongue to give plenty of attention to the underside of his cock, he reached
    between my thighs.

    I moaned when he began rubbing me

    through my stretch lace panties. At first, his touch was a little too low, but
    I wasn't about to lift my head from his cock and give him directions. Then his
    fingers homed in on my clit, and I moaned even louder, letting him know he'd
    reached just the right spot.

    "I love how wet you are," he

    told me in a guttural voice. I was glad he found it exciting, because my body
    seemed intent on producing a copious amount of lubrication for my first time.

    As Sam continued massaging my clit, I

    shivered from the sheer pleasure of it, and I realized I wanted him to come in
    my mouth. I wanted to feel him orgasm while my lips were wrapped around his
    cock.

    "Iris, I'm close," he

    suddenly warned me. I heard his gasp when I continued sucking, hollowing my
    cheeks in the process. "Iris, oh God!"

    I moaned, letting him know I didn't

    want him to hold back. His balls constricted and his sack transformed into a
    tight rounded pouch at the base of his petrified shaft He let out a loud cry. I
    withdrew a bit and locked my lips firmly securely at the ridge of his crown's
    swollen ridge, as his whole body tensed, The first rope of semen landed on my
    tongue. Quickly I swallowed, tasting the hot saltiness of it, and my tongue
    caressing the underside frenulum of his glorious crown. More spunk quickly
    followed, and despite my best efforts, it was impossible for me to get it all
    down. Some escaped my lips, but I didn't raise my head until Sam was completely
    spent.

    Finally licked up the streams of cum

    which escaped and ran down his shaft. One last gentle suck of his crown and I
    sat up. Grinning, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. He stared at me,
    seemingly transfixed. "Was that okay?" I asked.

    "That was fucking fantastic!"

    he panted, still catching his breath. "My God, if you're a virgin, how did
    you learn to do that?"

    "By reading how-to articles,

    YouTube instructional videos, and watching porn," I confessed with a grin.

    Sam laughed, then pulled me close so he

    could give me a gentle kiss. "Thank you for that," he whispered
    against my lips.

    "I enjoyed doing it," I

    whispered back. "It made me excited, knowing I was exciting you so
    much."

    His eyes were full of affection as he

    regarded me. "No pressure, but if you still want tonight to be our first
    time, it won't take me long to get hard again," he revealed.

    "Now that's good to know," I

    said, then tilted my head back while Sam's lips traveled over my neck.
    "What should we do in the meantime, Sam?"

    "I think we should see if I can

    make you come while my face is buried between your thighs," he replied,
    his breath warm against my skin.

    I released a whimper, unable to hide my

    eagerness as I nodded.

    Sam stood facing me, and began to

    undress. His cock was semi flaccid, but still rather full and dangled so
    deliciously for my entertainment. Sitting on the couch before him, I was far
    too impatient to go slow. Instead, I hurriedly reached behind me to unhook my
    underwire bra before tossing it toward his lovely cock. The cool air greeted my
    erect nipples, making them even harder, and Sam fixed his stare on my tits. I
    couldn't resist cupping them in my hands and pushing them together for his
    benefit.

    "Iris, you're killing me," he

    groaned. I watched as he pulled down his boxer briefs and stepped out of them.
    Now that he was completely nude, I allowed myself several long moments to take
    in the gorgeous sight. Like me, Sam would be considered average by many people,
    yet I found him so sexy, I'd already creamed my panties.

    That thought reminded me I still had on

    my wet underwear. Snapping out of my lust-filled daze, I turned sideways and
    laid my head on the sofa's armrest, then arched my ass up and yanked off my
    panties, then spread my legs wide.

    Sam wasn't joking when he told me it

    wouldn't take him long to get hard again. He was already semi-erect, and as I
    planted my feet on the cushion, keeping my knees bent, his gaze settled between
    my thighs.

    For a long moment, Sam studied me, as

    if he wanted to commit the sight of my naked body to memory. He took in my
    flowing hair and the costume jewelry earrings and choker, His eyes diverted to
    my ruby red lipstick, then my mascara eyelashes. He gazed a while on the
    natural recline of my C cup tits, and especially the dark stiff nipples now
    swollen like chapel spires from two hills. He licked his lips as he took in my
    dramatically narrowed waist and the ruby studded navel piercing. But when he
    moved to kneel on the other end of the sofa, he locked his gaze on the glossy
    wet lips of my cunt, and the bulging stiff reddened nub of my horny clit. The
    trimmed and manicured mound of my mons seemed to invite him to frolic in my
    newly-mowed lawn. Then he began stroking his cock, his chest rapidly rising and
    falling with each shallow breath.

    When Sam leaned over me, I thought he

    would ravish me right the, But he placed a stiff arm next to my head and
    reached up toward the table behind me, I thought he was reaching for the box of
    condoms, but he only turned on the lamp. I tried not to flinch in the sudden
    light, for it had been far easier to be uninhibited in the shadows.

    "I want to get a good look at

    you," he said in a husky voice, then he knelt back on his haunches, and
    leaned forward so he was at eye level with my most intimate place. I fought the
    bashful urge to close my legs and hide myself.

     

     

    "I can't wait to taste you,"

    Sam whispered, placing both hands inside each of my knees, then slowing sliding
    them up my inner thighs, til he stopped at my crotch. His thumbs then worked
    gently, probing my cunt lips. His index fingers ran through the pubes of my
    mound. Then he began drawing his fingertips between my wet, swollen inner
    folds. His mere touch brought a cry from my lips. He gently spread my cunt
    folds wide as he lowered his mouth to kiss my mons fur. Then he extended his
    tongue and licked my hood, I knew he was gathering traces of my juices on his
    tongue. His kisses were gentle while he traveled inward. By the time his mouth
    was just touching my clit, I was writhing on the couch, desperate for him.

    Sam's eyes turned up and met mine.

    "Let me know what feels good, and what you want me to keep doing," he
    murmured, and I readily nodded.

    I honestly wasn't sure what to expect.

    Of course I'd imagined how this would feel, but imagining was worlds apart from
    actually experiencing. I was convinced I'd enjoy it, yet I wondered if it would
    be all that much different from the sensation I derived from touching myself.

    But oh God! It was different! As Sam

    sucked at my smooth outer lips, drawing them into his mouth, I couldn't hold
    back my mewls of pleasure. He gently spread me open with his fingers, and I
    stared down at him, my eyes widening when his tongue slid from my entrance to
    my clit.

    "Yes!" I cried. My hips began

    their rhythmic rocking, as if I were already fucking. I heightened my bliss by
    fondling my nipples, rolling those peaks between my fingers.

    Sam gazed up at me, and the blatant

    lust in his eyes made a shudder course through my body. The sound and feel of
    his eager lapping at my folds, and the warmth of his mouth mingling with my
    heat, was almost enough to make me orgasm right then and there.

    But he was far from finished with me.

    His lips gently circled my clit, almost teasingly, before he began lashing the
    swollen nub of flesh with his tongue. My plaintive cries filled the room.
    "Sam, oh God, keep doing that, please!" I begged.

    He happily complied, working his tongue

    against my clit at a relentless pace. I buried my fingers in his hair,
    resisting the urge to press his mouth even harder against me. Yet he seemed to
    sense what I needed, for he grabbed my hips, holding me firmly to him.

    My face was hot, and my tits heaved as

    I breathed hard and fast. "I'm gonna come!" I wailed. "I'm so
    close!"

    Sam moaned at my words. He rose up and

    took my wrists away from my tits, placing them up over the armrest where my
    head was. He set his elbows beside my ribs and his fingers began pinching and
    rolling my rock-hard nipples. He body sank down on mine and his mouth landed
    directly on my engorged cunt. He resumed showing my clit no mercy. The
    stimulation was almost more than I could bear, but my thighs began shaking,
    signaling that my body was about to surrender to a powerful orgasm. My body was
    now fully surrendered to his delight. I gave myself to his will. I welcomed the
    lust which now consumed me.

    The first spasm caused me to arch my

    back and raise my hips. "Sam... oh, fuck!" I managed to shriek before
    falling silent and allowing the blissful contractions to seize me. I felt awash
    in ecstasy, never wanting it to end. My thighs tremored as if I was in a
    seizure.

    Then it suddenly became too much. Still

    shaking, I squirmed in Sam's grasp, drawing my thighs pressed together against
    his head. "I can't, oh! It's too sensitive!" I managed to moan.

    He withdrew his tormenting tongue and

    then lifted his head, smiling as he gazed at my swollen clit. His expression
    made it clear that he was quite pleased with my helpless state.

    When he crawled up to kiss me on the

    couch, I noticed he was fully erect once more. I was breathing hard, yet I
    readily accepted his kiss. "Do you want to wait a little while?" he
    asked, smoothing my hair back from my flushed face.

    I quickly shook my head. While my clit

    was temporarily overstimulated, the rest of my body was another matter. I now
    felt his hard cock bent down between my asscheeks. Deep in my core, I throbbed
    with the need to take Sam deep inside me.

    This time he did reach for the condoms.

    I watched eagerly as he took one from the box. I slid down away from my
    lust-filled body and knelt to adorn the orange Halloween-themed rubbers I
    bought at the costume shop.

    Though he was a virgin, he seemed to

    know how to put it on correctly, and he winked at me while rolling the condom
    down the length of his erection. I grinned, making no attempt to hide my
    excitement.

    When Sam was ready, He took my two

    hands and raised me to sitting. Then he started to lie back on the other
    armrest of the sofa, and I looked at him expectantly. "Why don't you
    straddle me?" he suggested. "Then you can control the pace while
    taking me inside. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

    He was breathing faster, anticipation

    and lust clear on his face, yet he was putting my needs first.

    Stroking his lovely, lubed orange cock,

    I nodded before moving to plant a knee on either side of him. As I hovered
    above his cock, I took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm a little
    nervous," I revealed with a shy smile.

    "I understand," he said, his

    voice low and soothing. "Just take it slow, okay? No rush."

    "Okay." I placed my hands on

    the back of the armrest, on each side of his head, bracing myself while
    balancing on my knees. Sam sucked on my dangling left tit. Wigh his right hand
    he took hold of his sheathed cock. His left hand wrapped around my ass, and I
    waited for him to guide the tip directly to my opening so I could sink down
    upon it. Instead, he gently slid it between my inner lips, coating it with my
    juices. I was so wet, we didn't need lube. When Sam's cock grazed my clit, I
    released a needy whimper and knew no amount of discomfort would stop me from
    taking every inch of him inside.

    When he positioned his cock right at my

    entrance, I knew it was my turn to descend. I began lowering my body.
    "Ooh!" I released a soft cry as the head stretched me. Then, trying
    to hide my wince, I swallowed hard, then took another deep breath and kept
    going. My body was ready, more than ready, but I still had to move slowly.

    Sam gazed up at me, his expression rapt.

    I heard his groan of pleasure when I managed to accept the tip of his cock.
    There was a little pain, yes; but more of a sensation of pressure, of
    tremendous stretching. I knew Sam's cock was beautifully, perfectly average,
    but at that moment, it felt massive as it penetrated me. Nothing bigger, or
    thicker, would have any more satisfying than my lovely Sam's turgid phallus.

    Then Sam was all the way inside, and I

    couldn't hold back a relieved smile while I settled down upon him. My clit now
    pleasured by his furry mound. I Gently shifted back and forth while fully
    penetrated by the joyful orange-coated latex, "Ribbed for my
    pleasure."

    He smiled, too, then pulled me in, to

    kiss me. I moaned into his mouth; I wondered if he could feel me trembling.

     

     

    At first I was afraid to move, afraid

    it would hurt. Sam appeared to read my mind, for he repeated, "No
    rush." Then he reached both hands to cup my ass, and gently rubbed my
    sphincter. By that point, it wasn't as tender, and I took pleasure in the stimulation.

    "Oh, that feels so good," I

    groaned. "You feel so good."

    And he did. Though I hadn't yet begun

    to pump, I derived a deep satisfaction from being so completely filled; my clit
    so tantalizingly tickled.

    Sam's breath came faster, and his mouth

    found mine once more, I realized he was shaking, too. Was it hard for him to
    remain still while he patiently waited for me to get used to his cock inside
    me?

    Finally I worked up the nerve to begin

    rising, my hips twerking in a slow, rhythmic pace. I kept him almost all the
    way inside, not brave enough to try sliding all the way up and down his length,
    but as Sam's features contorted with ecstasy, I knew he loved the way I gently
    rode him.

    With his finger massaging my rosebud,

    he lowered his mouth to my left tit and took my nipple between his lips.
    "Oh God, yes!" I cried. It was as if my body had become a singular
    pulsing current of bliss, and my hips began moving faster.

    Sam let out a loud groan, which was muffled

    by my tit. A thin layer of sweat covered my skin, and I grew even more excited
    by the feel of his mouth sucking my nipple. His right hand came up and pinched
    my other nipple.

    When Sam withdrew his head, he gave me

    a pleading stare. "Iris, oh! Oh fuck! I'm not going to last!" His
    words were edged with something like panic.

    Seeing as how it was his first fuck,

    too; I certainly didn't expect him to hold out long. "That's okay," I
    assured him with an affectionate smile. "Don't hold back, Sam."

    While rolling my hips, I basked in the

    raw pleasure of the act. I could feel my own orgasm building, and soon Sam and
    I were both quaking, on the verge of release. His groans and my cries were loud
    enough to make me glad my roommate Nora, was out for the evening.

    I felt Sam tense, just before he came.

    His eyes locked with mine, and I gasped when he bucked his hips, His hands now
    firmly gripping my hips while driving his cock deeper inside me. He gave a
    helpless shout as he climaxed; his jaw slackening. Yet even in the grip of his
    orgasm, he continued pressing me tight so my clit kept rubbing his pubes,
    determined to make me come.

    "Yes!" I wailed, surrendering

    to him then: to his fingers, his cock, and his stare full of bliss. A low
    scream escaped my lips as I reached my orgasm, my body wracked by delicious
    spasms. My muscles clenched around Sam's cock again and again, and he released
    a low groan. His breaths were shallow, and his face was flushed.

    Finally my contractions subsided, and

    as much as I wanted to nestle up against Sam and bask in our post-orgasmic
    satisfaction, I knew I couldn't. After giving him a quick kiss, I sat up, and
    he held the condom in place so it wouldn't slip while I eased myself off of
    him.

    Sam looked down at his slowly softening

    orange-hooded cock. It was coated in my juices. He let out a proud
    "Ah!", and then he looked at me and grinned. "My God, that was
    incredible!" he said.

    "It sure was," I replied, my

    grin mirroring his. Then I wondered if I was bleeding; I was only a little sore
    after our first time, but I figured I'd better check just in case.

    "Be right back," I told him,

    then hurried to the bathroom to relieve myself. Wiping between my thighs, I
    discovered I hadn't bled at all.

    Next, it was Sam's turn to clean up,

    and while he was in the bathroom, I put on my matching lacey bra and panties.
    Grabbing a folded blanket from under the lamp table, I sat down and wrapped it
    around me, and I realized I couldn't stop smiling. Whatever the future might
    hold for me and Sam, I knew I would never regret him being my first.

    He returned still naked, to the living

    room, giving me a sweet grin. I watched as he pulled on his underwear over his
    depleted lovely cock. Then he slipped on his pants, but didn't bother with his
    shirt. I stood and opened the blanket, revealing my bra and panty ensemble, as
    I embraced him with an open mouth kiss. Then he settled in, lying on the couch
    behind me; Snuggling, spooning me, and I situated the blanket over us.

    Sam wove his fingers through my hair,

    giving me kisses on my erogenous neck. Though I'd just come twice, my body
    immediately responded to him. He held me close, a

    0 min
  • A Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 1
    A
    Night of Sweet Treats And Deflowering: Part 1.
    Iris and Sam have a sexy ‘deflowering’ party for
    two on Halloween.

    Based on a post by  MoonlitOpal.  Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.

    On a beautiful late October afternoon, Sam and I decided to eat lunch outside the

    call center where we worked. Sitting on a wooden bench near the building
    entrance, we dug into the sandwiches we'd brought from home.

    "It's such a gorgeous day," I

    sighed. The sky held no trace of clouds, and a maple to my right was
    spectacular in its display of scarlet foliage. Breathing deep, I delighted in
    the cool, crisp air.

    "Soon it's going to be

    freezing," Sam said. We'd been working together for almost a year, long
    enough for me to know he preferred summer to colder weather. "Then there
    will be no lunches for you and me outside, Iris. We'll be stuck inside the
    cafeteria for months."

    I knew he was right, but I wouldn't let

    thoughts of winter, with its frigid days and waning light, dampen my mood. Sam
    and I chatted about work and how hectic things had been as of late, and after I
    finished my sandwich, I reached for the small bag of candy corn I'd packed for
    dessert. Though I knew Sam didn't share my love of sweets, I offered some to
    him anyway.

    He shook his head. "No, thank

    you."

    "Oh, come on!" I insisted.

    "It's almost Halloween! It's practically tradition to eat candy corn this
    time of year."

    He looked at me with an amused smile,

    and I couldn't help feeling a nervous flutter deep in the pit of my stomach.
    Sam was twenty-three, a year older than I, and he had gorgeous brown eyes, so
    expressive they could make a girl's heart melt. His dark hair seemed in
    constant need of a trim; sometimes I had to resist the urge to run my fingers
    through it and brush it back from his face.

    "My family never celebrated

    Halloween," Sam revealed. I remembered him mentioning that his parents
    were extremely religious. Sam didn't strike me as particularly devout, and I
    got a sense that his lack of church atttendance had caused a rift between him
    and the rest of his family. "It's just like any other day to me," he
    went on.

    I loved Halloween, though being a shy

    introvert, I never did much to enjoy the festivities. Parties and crowds made
    me break out in a sweat, so I usually spent Halloween at my mom's house, where
    we would hand out candy and watch scary movies while eating enough junk food to
    give us a sugar high. This year, however, she had to travel for work, and I'd
    resigned myself to spending Halloween alone in my apartment.

    Turning toward Sam now, I playfully

    held out my tongue so he could see the piece of candy corn resting on it.
    "You should get dressed up and binge on candy at least once in your
    life," I told him.

    "Well, what about you?" he

    asked. "What are your plans for Halloween?"

    I shrugged. "My social life is

    pretty much nonexistent, so I don't have any. Unless..." My heart suddenly
    felt like it was pounding in my throat, and my mouth grew dry from nervousness.
    I averted my stare, then sneaked a glance at him. "Unless you want to come
    over to my apartment," I finally managed to say.

    My ability to flirt was abysmal; I

    couldn't have been beguiling if my life depended on it. To make matters worse,
    I knew my face was growing hot as I waited for Sam's answer.

    When he didn't speak right away, I

    awkwardly rushed on. "We could dress up if you want--there's still time to
    get costumes--and I could make a pizza for dinner. We could watch campy old
    horror movies and drink apple cider..."

    Even as I spoke, I couldn't bring

    myself to look at Sam. I was afraid he would find me pathetic.

    "You know what, Iris? That sounds

    like a lot of fun," he said, and I knew I wasn't imagining it when he
    moved a few inches closer to me.

    I tried and failed to suppress a

    delighted grin at his response. "Awesome! Why don't you come over at
    around six?" I suggested. Sam knew I lived in the lower-level apartment of
    a house not far from the call center. "I'll give you the address, and when
    you get there, just come around back."

    Sam's smile widened, as if my

    enthusiasm was contagious. "So you're going to introduce me to all the
    delights of Halloween?" he asked.

    Something in the tone of his voice made

    a delicious shiver travel down my spine. "I certainly hope to," I
    replied.

    He raised an eyebrow, and I had to duck

    my head so I could hide behind my shoulder-length brown hair. All the while, I
    told myself to calm down and stop acting like an idiot. It was just a little
    get-together at my place. Sam probably didn't even consider it a date. We were
    simply two friends hanging out for Halloween because we had no other plans.

    So why did I feel so nervous? Why were

    my palms sweaty and my hands shaky? Why was it that when I imagined Sam leaning
    in to kiss me, the thought sent a surge of heat straight between my thighs?

    "And you're going to wear a

    costume?" Sam asked.

    I looked up and gave him what I hoped

    was a casual smile. "Sure! I mean, you don't have to, but I haven't
    dressed up for Halloween in forever, so I figure this is my chance to go all
    out."

    Sam reached over to pluck a piece of

    candy corn from the bag in my lap. "Then I'll dress up, too. I can't
    promise anything spectacular, but I'll do my best," he said.

    "I can't wait to see what you come

    up with." Already I was trying to decide on a costume for myself. Should I
    be a witch? A princess? A ghost? None of those seemed original enough.

    When my eyes met Sam's once more, I

    immediately realized just what I wanted to be. Sitting so close to him, I knew
    I was the very definition of average: average height, average weight. My hazel
    eyes were somewhat large yet could still pass for average.

    But during the one night of the year when

    Sam and I would be alone, and I could transform into whatever or whomever I
    wanted, I resolved to be anything but average. I would be bold and confident,
    no longer shy and insecure.

    And maybe, just maybe, I would be brave

    enough to make it clear to Sam just how I felt about him. With any luck, he
    might decide he felt the same way about me.

    Halloween was still several days away,

    but I went shopping for a costume as soon as I left work later that afternoon.
    Some quick online browsing led me to a store downtown, and I could barely
    contain my excitement as I stepped inside the place.

    "Can I help you find

    something?" a woman behind the counter asked me.

    "The Bride of Frankenstein,"

    I quickly replied, then added, "the costume, I mean." All the while I
    prayed the store had it in my size.

    The fates must have been smiling down

    upon me, because the saleslady easily located a costume that looked like it
    would be a perfect fit. "You're welcome to try it on," she told me.

    I gazed at the black wig, which of

    course featured white streaks on either side, and I imagined how I would look
    wearing it after I applied some dark red lipstick, along with black eyeliner
    and smoky eye shadow.

    The sleeves of the virginal white dress

    resembled bandages, and the garment's hem was almost floor-length. As I stroked
    the satiny fabric, I grinned with delight.

    "I don't need to try it on,"

    I said to the saleslady. "This is what I want."

    The costume was a little pricey for my

    budget, but I handed over my credit card without hesitation. As I stared down
    at the dress on the counter, the symbolism of the outfit wasn't lost on me.
    While I would soon be twenty-three, I'd never had a real boyfriend, and I was
    still a virgin.

    After I paid for the costume and left

    the shop, I decided to swing by the grocery store. Outside the entrance, I
    studied the pumpkins for sale and finally selected a nice round one, large
    enough for carving. Once inside, I pushed a cart down the aisles, grabbing a
    frozen pizza, a variety pack of Halloween candy, and a half gallon of apple
    cider. Lingering in the cosmetics section, I chose the perfect shade of
    lipstick.

    As I surveyed the items in my cart, I

    realized I was smiling. Simply planning for my evening with Sam made that
    excited flutter return to my stomach.

    I tried not to let myself get too

    carried away imagining what Sam and I might do together on Halloween, but still
    I wandered the aisles, searching for an item I didn't dare ask for help in
    finding.

    Finally I located the condoms, and I

    stared in bewilderment at all the different kinds. Glancing around, I was
    relieved no other customers were nearby. Then I set about reading the
    descriptions on the boxes before choosing a brand that boasted durability. If I
    did have sex, durability was definitely what I wanted in a condom.

    I paid for the groceries and then

    started for home. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was almost dark,
    and Nora, the woman who owned the house and lived on the upper level, had left
    the porch light on. I smiled at the kind gesture, though the entrance to my
    apartment was at the back of the house, so the light from the porch provided
    almost no illumination once I reached my door.

     

     

    Nora was middle-aged and recently

    divorced, so when she wasn't working, she was usually out with friends or on a
    date. Of the two of us, I was the homebody, and I thought she liked having a
    quiet tenant around to keep an eye on things while she was gone.

    Once I'd carried all my purchases into

    my apartment, I put away the groceries and then rushed to try on my costume.

    Standing before the mirror in my

    bedroom, I donned the Bride's dress. A delighted grin danced on my lips when I
    found that it indeed fit me perfectly. After putting on the wig to complete my
    outfit, I turned from side to side, trying to imagine what Sam would think of
    me. My costume wasn't sexy; if anything, the dress was modest. But I was
    definitely transformed into someone new while wearing it. I could only hope the
    getup persuaded Sam to see me in a different way, too.

    For the rest of the week, Sam and I ate

    lunch together, but neither of us mentioned him coming over for Halloween. The
    holiday fell on a weekend, and by Friday, I was worried Sam had forgotten all
    about our plans, but as we headed back inside after our lunch break, he looked
    over at me and smiled. "So I'll be at your place at six on Halloween
    night."

    I nodded, trying not to look too eager

    as I smiled back. "You have the address, right?" I'd given it to him
    earlier in the week, but I wanted to make sure.

    "Of course," he said.

    "Would you like me to bring anything?"

    "Just your handsome self," I

    replied without thinking, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I
    wanted to die of mortification. His handsome self? Who actually blurted out
    something like that? Awkward and socially inept Iris, that was who.

    The surprise was evident on Sam's face,

    but his smile widened. "I will be sure to do that, Iris. And by the
    way," he went on, leaning close to me and lowering his voice, "you're
    really cute when you blush."

    I spent the day of Halloween cleaning

    my apartment, determined to conceal the fact that I was a bit of a slob. By the
    time I had the place spotless, it was well into the afternoon, and once I ate a
    late lunch, I hurried to take a shower.

    As the water cascaded over me, I stared

    down at my body. I'd just shaved my legs and armpits, but I wasn't sure what to
    do about my pubic hair. I normally kept the dark triangle between my thighs
    closely trimmed, but now I wondered if I should shave it. If Sam and I got to
    the point where he actually saw my pubic hair, would he wish I was bare?

    Finally I decided to leave the hair

    covering my mound while I shaved my outer lips. When I set the razor aside, I
    slid my fingertips over the newly smooth skin and realized I liked the way it
    felt. My flesh felt more exposed, not only to the cool air and the water but
    also to my touch.

    I couldn't resist giving my clit a

    teasing rub. My body immediately responded, and a soft moan escaped my lips.

    I seemed perpetually horny; it was as

    if my body was desperately trying to steer me toward finally having sex. To
    relieve my frustration, I masturbated frequently, and it never took me long to
    come.

    Leaning against the shower wall, I

    spread my legs wider and began massaging my clit with a quick, circular motion.
    With my other hand, I sought out my entrance and worked two fingers deep
    inside. There was a twinge of discomfort, a hint of pain, while I attempted to
    stretch my opening. I knew losing my virginity would hurt, maybe a lot at
    first, but that wasn't enough to dampen my desire. Even now as I thrust my
    fingers in and out at a fervent pace, my body readily accepted the intrusion,
    and I could feel how wet I was.

    Glancing downward, I saw that my pale

    pink nipples were hard from my arousal. All I had to do was imagine Sam's mouth
    around one of them, and I was right on the edge of climax. My thighs shook as I
    rubbed my clit faster. I fantasized about the way Sam would look, the way he
    would feel, while he took me.

    "Fuck me, Sam!" I cried

    shamelessly.

    As the words echoed off the shower

    walls, I surrendered to a fierce orgasm. Releasing a helpless wail, I felt my
    muscles clench around my fingers deep within me. Again and again my body
    spasmed, and I reveled in each blissful contraction.

    After my climax subsided, I continued

    trembling. Gently withdrawing my fingers from between my thighs, I closed my
    eyes and waited for my breathing to slow.

    My movements were languid as I finished

    showering, and when I finally stepped out onto the bathmat and began drying
    off, I found I was relaxed, almost drowsy. Maybe it was a good thing I
    masturbated before Sam arrived, I thought. It would keep me from throwing
    myself at him as soon as he stepped inside my apartment.

    The idea of doing that made my

    sensitive clit throb, and I realized it would take far more than one orgasm to
    subdue my yearning for Sam.

    I went about blow drying my hair, then

    carefully pinned it back so it would be hidden under the wig. In my bedroom, I
    chose to wear a lacy white stretch lace underwire bra and matching panties
    beneath my dress. As I carefully applied make-up, I aimed for a dramatic effect
    that wasn't too over the top. My deep red lipstick was striking, and I managed
    to create the exact look I wanted with the eyeliner and shadow.

    Finally I put on the wig and stepped

    into black heels before giving my reflection a critical look. Then I grinned in
    satisfaction. "Perfect," I declared.

    A few minutes before six, I put the

    pizza in the oven. I was grateful for something to do, as my anxiety had
    returned with a ferocity that made my hands shake. It wasn't yet dark, but the
    day was fading fast outside the kitchen window. Thinking about what the evening
    might hold for me and Sam was enough to quicken my pulse.

    Sam arrived right on time, and when I

    heard his knock, I rushed to answer the door. As soon as we saw each other, our
    mouths dropped open. I'd never seen Sam in anything other than business casual,
    but he now stood before me wearing a black cape over a white dress shirt, black
    vest, and black pants. His burgundy ascot was a perfect final touch to the
    costume. His hair was slicked back, and he'd even given himself a prominent
    widow's peak.

    His stare swept over me, and when he

    grinned, I noticed his fangs. "You are one spectacular bride!" he
    exclaimed.

    I couldn't help but giggle at his

    compliment. "And you're one sexy vampire. I love your costume!" I
    made a show of beckoning him into the apartment. "I know you can't enter
    unless I explicitly invite you inside, so please do come in."

    Sam laughed and stepped into the living

    room. As soon as I closed the door behind us, he drew me into a quick hug.
    "Thanks for inviting me over tonight."

    After I recovered from my initial shock

    at being in Sam's arms, I hurriedly hugged him back. "Thanks for coming.
    Are you hungry? The pizza's almost ready."

    "Sounds great." He looked

    around my apartment as we headed toward the kitchen. "This is an awesome
    apartment."

    "It's kind of small, but I like

    it," I said. "Nora--the woman who owns the house and lives
    upstairs--told me she would be at a party tonight, so no one else is
    here." I tried to keep my voice casual as I revealed this information to
    Sam.

    "Then we can go absolutely

    wild," he responded with a grin.

    I knew he was only teasing, but the

    thought of going wild with him made my cheeks redden. All I had to do was
    remember my earlier fantasy in the shower, and I immediately grew wet.

    "We can do whatever we want,"

    I informed him, flashing my own wicked grin.

    Sam raised his eyebrows, and I could

    have sworn I saw his face flush a little as well. I busied myself with taking
    the pizza out of the oven, hoping I hadn't come on too strong.

    "You need any help?" Sam

    asked.

    "Nope. Just make yourself

    comfortable, and I'll have this ready in a sec."

    Sam sat down at the table while I

    divided the pizza into slices. I couldn't help but be hyperaware of his
    presence, since I was used to spending all my time in the apartment alone.

    Once I'd put our plates on the table,

    along with a glass of cider for each of us, I sat across from Sam, trying to
    suppress a nervous giggle.

    "I'll have to take my fangs

    out," he said.

     

     

    "Yeah, I guess Dracula never tried

    to eat pizza. But there's a first time for everything." I lifted my glass
    of cider. "Here's to your first time celebrating Halloween, Sam."

    He grinned and gently tapped his glass

    against mine.

    As we ate dinner, the conversation

    flowed easily between us. It was as if we were sitting together at lunch,
    chatting away, and I felt the tension in my shoulders gradually disappear. The
    evening was going great, I assured myself. Sam looked like he was having fun.

    After we finished eating, Sam insisted

    on helping me wash the dishes. We stood side by side at the sink, with me
    washing and him drying. "Have you ever carved a pumpkin?" I asked.

    "Nope," he replied. "My

    parents were okay with pumpkins, but jack-o'-lanterns? That's another
    story."

    I nodded toward the pumpkin I'd placed

    in the corner of the kitchen. "Well, tonight you're in luck, because I
    picked out the perfect pumpkin for you to carve."

    Sam threw his head back and laughed.

    "Only if you help!"

    "Deal."

    As we took turns scooping out the slimy

    pumpkin innards, I gave Sam a sidelong glance. "You don't feel like you're
    doing something sinful right now, do you?" I asked. "I don't want you
    to be uncomfortable."

    "No, not at all," he

    answered. "I have no issue with religion, but my family is just...
    overzealous. My parents pretty much stopped talking to me when I told them I no
    longer wanted to attend church with them every Sunday."

    "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

    Sam shrugged, but I knew his family's

    estrangement bothered him. "I figure they'll come around eventually."
    Sitting at the table beside me, he carefully carved the pumpkin. "Do you
    get along with your mom okay? From the way you talk about her, it sounds like
    you two have a good relationship," he said.

    During one of our recent lunch

    conversations, I'd mentioned to Sam that my parents were divorced and I rarely
    saw my father. "Mom's great," I told him now, "but we're so
    different. She's confident and outgoing, and I'm... not."

    Sam looked at me and smiled. "You

    are when you get to know someone," he said. "I like that."

    I beamed at his words, then leaned back

    in my chair, regarding the pumpkin's new grinning face. "You did a great
    job! Looks like you're a pro at carving pumpkins." Jumping up from the
    table, I got a tea light candle to illuminate the jack-o'-lantern. Once it was
    lit, I turned off the kitchen light so we could admire Sam's work.

    As we stood side by side, he slipped

    his arm around me. I nestled against him, basking in his warmth while inhaling
    his familiar yet enticing scent. I was exquisitely aware of my body touching
    h

    0 min
  • Lady Annabelle & Kate
    Lady Annabelle & Kate
    Two stories from 3 centuries, about one English mansion.

    By Blacksheep. Listen to the

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.



    An aristocrat has an exciting encounter with a highwayman

    It is the Year of Our Lord 1760, and the roads leading to

    and from London be the most perilous for any traveler. Hounslow Heath being a
    favorite haunt of the highwayman and footpad. Folly indeed, for the unwary to
    wander alone. And London be a very wicked place, so it hath been told, with
    whores, beggars and cutpurses on every street corner,

    The journey of Lady Emily Arundel and her daughter Annabelle

    had been an uneventful one so far.

    "And when we arrive at Mablethorpe Hall, be sure to

    show your appreciation to Lord Barrington-Smythe. His son, William, wishes to
    seek your hand in marriage," Lady Emily began.

    "Yes Mother," her daughter replied, with a

    distinct lack of enthusiasm.

    "His estate comprises over a hundred acres of

    land,"

    "Well, hark at that!"

    "owns several horses related to Whistlejacket,"

    Annabelle struggled to contain a sigh.

    "properties in the colonies,"

    "How glorious, Mother."

    "knows a clutch of fashionable London society in

    beautiful silk suits and powdered wigs attended by almost equally well
    appointed valets! Whom are accompanied by gorgeous ladies in even more
    elaborate wigs and dresses in the latest Paris fashions,"

    The corpulent gentleman sat opposite them in the coach was

    Lord Bracewell, an old and dear friend of Lady Emily. He grinned at Annabelle,
    sensing her discomfort.

    "Your Ladyship, it may please you to know, that we are

    but a mile from our journey's end." And thank heaven for that, Bracewell
    thought to himself, now feeling the great need of a chamber pot after drinking
    an excess of ale. He adjusted his periwig.

    "Erm, perhaps an opportunity at this gathering for a,

    f, er, you know, eh?" He gestured something and Lady Emily quickly tapped
    his leg with her foot.

    "Shush. Manners, Cuthbert! Later, perhaps,"

    At that moment the coach lurched as it hit a particularly

    large pothole. This stretch of road was notoriously bad.

    Suddenly, the coach shuddered to an uncomfortable halt and

    the horses squealed. Other hooves could be heard alongside.

    "Stand and deliver!"

    "Oh dear God!" Lord Bracewell exclaimed, crossing

    himself. "I fear we are about to be robbed!"

    The masked stranger yelled at the coachman. "Throw down

    your weapons my bonny boy, or I'll spill your guts on the road!"

    There was the sound of muskets hitting the ground.

    Inside the coach, Lady Emily trembled and uttered a prayer.

    A robber might take more from a lady than her silver.

    Annabelle should've been as terrified as her mother, but her

    wildly-beating heart was more out of excitement.

    "Perhaps this man may be more merciful than we give him

    credit for?"

    "Hush, my dearest daughter. These bandits are without

    scruples! Pray to the Lord!"

    A bay-colored horse's head and then its rider appeared

    outside the window. The figure who leaned down to peer into the window appeared
    tall, wearing a cape, a three-cornered hat and a black handkerchief across his
    mouth. Dark brown eyes.

    "Well now, what fabulous treasure do I find?" The

    highwayman pointed a flintlock pistol inches from Annabelle's face. He leaned
    forward and with a move of his wrist he flicked back her hood with the muzzle
    of the pistol.

    "Ah. A true English Rose."

    "Sir, I beg of you, do not harm my daughter," Lady

    Emily intervened. "She is but eighteen, an innocent child, she has no
    silver!"

    "Her fortune awaits at Mablethorpe Hall no doubt. But

    it is she I am taking, not her money. Come." And he beckoned, the hand
    still held out to help Annabelle down.

    "Why, what foul swine would take a young lady's honor?

    I forbid you to lay one finger on her!" Lady Emily yelled. "Take me in
    her place."

    "No Mother, I shall do as he asks," Annabelle

    interrupted, taking his hand.

    "My child, no!"

    "It shall be alright Mother," Annabelle replied.

    "Your daughter knows her own mind, Madam," the

    highwayman said. "So now, I must ask you to keep thine own counsel. It
    would give me no pleasure to shoot your coachman and your gentleman
    companion."

    Lady Emily could do nothing but remain in the coach as the

    mysterious stranger led Annabelle away and into the trees at the side of the
    road.

    "Sir. If I may be so bold, may I request a merciful

    death?" The damsel inquired.

    This rather caught the highwayman off guard. This young lady

    intrigued him far more than the other wealthy folks he'd ambushed in the past.
    How the ladies had screamed like banshees and pleaded for their lives. The
    simpering, periwigged dandy who'd pissed his breeches when a gun was pointed at
    his head. Aristocrats. The damned preening lot of them! How he loathed these
    ruling peacocks. Oh, he hadn't always been a highwayman. Back in his old life
    he'd fought for king and country. Until good fortune and those he looked up to
    had betrayed him,

    He had planned to kidnap the girl and hold her to ransom.

    Lord Arundel's daughter would command a high price.

    "You are indeed bold. And, I have no wish to kill you.

    Your beauty and grace are extremely attractive to young men and it is bound to
    rouse their passions."

    Annabelle thought for a moment. "Since I am without

    silver or jewels, perhaps I could offer you a gift of a different kind? If I
    were to sufficiently please you, would you let my mother, Lord Bracewell, the
    coachman and myself go free? I'll do anything, to please you."

    He blinked. "Even the most unladylike of things? Do you

    realize what you are saying?"

    "Sir, I am shortly to be married. It would be most

    helpful if I were sufficiently skilled in how to pleasure my husband on our
    wedding night. I have no experience whatsoever in meddling with a man, perhaps
    if I could, practice somehow." Those less-than-polite urges that had been
    assaulting her body recently, had now found the perfect outlet.

    "Will you service my prick like a common whore?"

    "Yes sir," Annabelle replied, kneeling before him.

    "Let's see you try then." He kept his pistol in

    his right hand. "No teeth."

    Annabelle unbuttoned the highwayman's breeches slowly, her

    careful motions at odds with the look in her blue eyes and pulled out the large
    and swollen member. She couldn't help but stare at his impressive length,
    simultaneously afraid and eager. A man's weapon in all its hardened glory. A thing
    she'd previously glimpsed from afar, now in her hands.

    He expected her to hesitate, but to his surprise, she leant

    forward and ran her tongue up the shaft. With all haste, she opened her mouth,
    allowing him to move it inside. He began to thrust his cock inside her mouth,
    holding her head steady. Shocked at herself, Annabelle couldn't deny that as
    she heard him pant and moan, she felt somehow strangely empowered. She began to
    suck, working her tongue around his member. The highwayman cursed and blasphemed
    holding her head firmer as he began to thrust faster.

    Eventually, he grasped her blonde hair tightly as he

    groaned, pushing his entire length down her throat and shot his seed into her.
    She swallowed every drop of it, rather liking the taste.

    "Impressive," he panted. He'd enjoyed that a lot

    more than he was willing to admit, but wasn't done with this little rich girl
    just yet.

    "Have you had enough yet, Marchioness Whore?"

    Panting she replied, "I think not. Please."

    "Please?" He ran his hand under her dress and up

    her thigh. "Please what?"

    "Please sir."

    He fingered her tantalizing wet womanhood. "Louder, if

    you please."

    "Ah, Please sir!"

    He chuckled, and withdrew. She was ready to beg him, but before

    she could he had her up against a tree, hands tied then the rope wrapped hight
    around the thick trunk. With swift action he pulled up her skirting and down
    went her petticoat. Pulling her ass out to meet him, had entered her virgin
    cunt from behind, feeling the satisfying tightness of a deflowering. She winced
    and made a squeal similar to those a fox makes when mating. It hurt, but at the
    same time it felt so good. The highwayman withdrew until just his cockhead was
    still engaged, leaving Annabelle feeling a little disappointed. But then he
    pushed back in, all the way and in one go.

    His animal instinct had kicked in and he had one overriding

    desire; to plant his seed in this nubile young lady. He picked up speed,
    plunging deeply each time.

    Annabelle's own arousal was equally uncontrolled. She knew

    what was about to happen after her recent voyeurism of Lord Bracewell fucking
    her mother across a grand piano one afternoon. A more amusing rather an
    arousing spectacle that brought to mind an overfed pug mounting a chair leg.
    This time the explosion was even more powerful - and it was accompanied by the
    highwayman's roar as she felt him fill her passage with his issue. It seemed to
    go on forever and she felt it leaking out around his shaft and down her legs.

    "God," he gasped as he finally withdrew from

    Annabelle. He untied her and helped her stand.

    "Did I, please you sir?" Annabelle inquired in her

    refined & well-bred cadence.

    The highwayman finally removed his face covering. Annabelle

    was surprised to see a weathered but good-looking man, with cheeks bearing
    scars. Under his cape, she had glimpsed a torn and darkened coat, that had
    been, long ago a Redcoat officer's uniform. This man was no stranger to battle,
    and had a long history that he wasn't prepared to reveal.

    "You and the others have earned your freedom Your

    Ladyship." He said with a bow, removing his 3-point hat in the process.
    Her charms prevailing to ransom her entourage.

    His siring became her own treasure, preparing her for yet

    more charming accomplishment in the upcoming matrimonial bedchamber.

    A Night at Mablethorpe Hall

    Two millennials Ravished by the ghost of a Redcoat on

    Halloween.

    "Don't you just love a Halloween-themed tour and a meal

    at an English country house?" Kate said to her friend as the minibus they
    were in pulled into the grounds of Mablethorpe Hall.

    "Yeah, these old places have a real atmosphere!"

    Chloe replied.

    "I've wanted to do something like this for like,

    forever. Stay overnight in some old place, pretend I'm lady of the manor. I'm
    so glad I booked this trip."

    "Kate you are such a history nerd. Lucy Worsley has a

    rival."

    "My heart is in the 18th century. Seriously. I just

    love anything from that time."

    Kate had often been described as an atypical millennial.

    They got off the bus and collected their luggage.

    "Come on, the tour is about to start. Let's dump our

    luggage. Apparently this place is haunted."

    Kate smiled. "All good English manors should have at

    least one ghost! Three hours in a minibus. I'm stiff from sitting so
    long."

    They collected their room keys. The Hall had not yet

    upgraded to the modern electronic key cards. Kate liked that. A traditional
    brass key was more in keeping with the decor. The receptionist looked worried.

    "Are you ok with having Room 13?" she asked.

    "Sure. I'm not superstitious. Don't tell me it's

    haunted?"

    "Well, some guests have reported that really strange

    things happen in that room. And the wi-fi doesn't work in there."

    Kate just assumed the woman was joking. "In that case,

    it sounds like my kind of room! Think I can last a few hours without
    wi-fi."

    The room was large and splendid. "Seriously? I get a

    king-size four poster bed?" Kate exclaimed as she gazed in awe. "This
    is so fantastic! I feel like Queen Anne."

    The bed looked so inviting, Kate couldn't resist just

    flopping back on it and spreading out.

    "Bliss!" she sighed. So much better than the

    single bed back at her cramped one-bed flat. She closed her eyes,

    Abruptly, Kate was overcome by a bizarre horniness, and masturbated

    more than she'd done in a long time. She was getting so wet, so hot and in a
    rush to give herself the release she so desperately needed. She hitched up her
    dress and pushed her panties down just a bit, then shoved her right hand down
    to her cunt. She used her left hand to push up her nightshirt and play with her
    breasts, pinching her nipples hard, making her moan with pleasure. Kate's right
    hand was busy with her cunt, alternately slipping down between her cunt lips
    and inside her hot, wet core, fucking herself with fingers, then pulling out to
    rub her clit. Back and forth, over and over. She was moaning, fantasizing about
    being pounded, pounded by an unknown uniformed man. Begging him to fuck her
    harder and send her climaxing in ecstasy,

    Kate was screaming. Suddenly her orgasm peaked and hit full

    force. She stopped all movement with her hands momentarily then began again, at
    first very fast and hard, then slowing as her orgasm began to subside.

    She lay there as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

    "Jesus," she muttered, when she could finally

    catch her breath again. "What the hell just happened?"

    The tour had already begun when Kate arrived to join the

    others.

    "What took you so long?" Chloe asked.

    "Thought you'd got lost."

    "Oh I just, er, oh wow, check out that tour

    guide!"

    "Mablethorpe Hall, one of Berkshire's finest country

    estates back in the day," the tour guide began. He was dressed in early
    18th century period costume, with a long wig, frilled cuffs and breeches.

    "He looks just like John Hurt did in Rob Roy. I love

    the costumes in that movie." Kate whispered to Chloe, who rolled her eyes.

    Kate listened intently as every detail of the building's

    history was described.

    "But the most fascinating story of Mablethorpe,"

    the guide continued, "is that it's said to be haunted by Major Robert
    Wolfe, a British Army officer."

    The was a chorus of "oh!" from the assembled

    tourists.

    "The Major is said to return to Mablethorpe every

    Halloween night, in hope of seeing the woman he once loved."

    "So the poor sod just wants to get laid?" a

    middle-aged bloke at the front said, and everyone burst out laughing.

    The tour guide evidently took this old legend extremely

    seriously and did not see the funny side.

    "As I was saying, the Major was in love with Lady Annabelle

    Barrington-Smythe. That in itself was a scandal, for she was married to William
    Barrington-Smythe. Rumor has it that the Major was actually a notorious
    highwayman known as The Fox, "

    Later, the guests were treated to a Halloween-themed meal in

    the Hall's grand banqueting room. There were the usual things adorning the
    tables - Jack o' lanterns, candles everywhere, fake cobwebs. In the background,
    a string quartet dressed as witches played a medley of Bach and Handel.

    "Not as spooky as I was expecting," Chloe said as

    she sampled the pumpkin pie and spiced rum. "I was hoping the lights were
    going to go out and there'd be a jump-scare or something. Like two years ago
    when we went to that zombie-themed night at Castle Howard. That was creepy as
    hell!"

    "This is nice though. Lots of atmosphere. I like it

    here. I'd like to, get married in a place like this. Have a historical-themed
    wedding. That is, if, "

    "When, Kate. When you meet that ideal guy. And you

    will. He's out there. Plenty of fish. Steve was a complete areole, but he's
    ancient history. A bit like this hall."

    "True!"

    After the meal concluded, there was more live music and

    dancing.

    "Think I'm going to call it a night," Kate said.

    "Oh you lightweight," Chloe replied, already

    tipsy. "Aren't you going to stay up for the midnight ghost walk in the
    grounds? You might see a good-looking highwayman."

    "No, I'm totally exhausted. Really. You can tell me all

    about it in the morning."

    "Fine, whatever. I know you're too afraid!"

    Kate headed up to her room, surprised at being overcome by

    such tiredness. She hadn't drunk that much, and it had hardly been an energetic
    evening. The glorious king-size bed and it's luxurious blankets beckoned,

    Sometime after midnight, Kate was in a deep slumber, but

    also in the throes of a nightmare.

    He's coming,

    Kate did not dream often, and she was even less often

    plagued by bad dreams. Several times she stirred, came half awake, and heard
    herself gasping in panic. Once, drifting up from some threatening vision, she
    heard her own voice crying out wordlessly in terror, and she realized she was
    thrashing about in the bed.

    Suddenly the air was oppressively heavy, hot, thick; as if

    it were not air at all but a bitter and poisonous gas of some kind. She tried
    to breathe, couldn't. There was an invisible, crushing weight on her chest. The
    unmistakable smell of gunpowder. Hoofbeats, many horses. Some kind of battle?

    A murderous barrage of lightning crashed like a volley of

    mortar fire, seven or eight tremendous bolts; and woke her from sleep in an
    instant.

    "Holy shit." Kate gasped as the storm made her sit

    upright in bed. She remembered what Chloe had said earlier, about the tour not
    being scary. Evidently, nature had now delivered a jump, a scare of its own.

    Already her memory of the nightmare had begun to dissolve;

    only fragments of it remained with her, and each of those disassociated images
    was evaporating as if it were a splinter of ice. All she could remember was
    that she'd been in a battle of some kind, and there had been many men -
    soldiers on horseback. They'd been pursuing her. Firing guns.

    As the nightmare receded, Kate became uncomfortably aware of

    how dark the bedroom was. Before going to sleep she had switched off both the
    bedside lamps. The curtains were all closed, and only thin blades of moonlight
    were visible between the gap she'd left. She had the irrational but unshakable
    feeling that something had followed her up from the dream, there was another
    presence in the room, oh God! She fumbled for the lamp switch, damn, where was
    it? Groped around, switched it on. Relief as golden light flooded the room,

    And then she saw him. Stood at the side of the bed. He was

    dressed in a Redcoat uniform, just calmly standing there.

    She gasped, but was so shocked, she couldn't utter a sound

    for a moment. Then her initial shock turned to anger. Was this part of the
    Halloween tour? Having re-enactors actually enter the guest bedrooms was
    completely unacceptable.

    "What the hell are you doing?" Kate yelled.

    He seemed taken aback by her reaction. "Who are

    you?" She demanded once she had caught her breath again.

    "I beg your pardon, Miss," he began. He removed

    his hat as he moved closer.

    "Major Robert Wolfe of His Majesty's 58th Regiment of

    Foot."

    "What are you doing here?"

    He smiled politely. "Where I come from, when a

    gentleman introduces himself, a lady generally responds in kind."

    Kate was about to respond with a sarcastic remark, but then

    she noticed that he was surrounded by a faint, silver glow. Her heart began to
    pound like crazy. Gathering all her courage, she decided to ask him directly.

    "Are you, dead?"

    The Major's face relaxed into a smile. "Oh indeed.

    Quite, quite dead. As I have been since the last night of October, Seventeen
    Sixty-five."

    Kate thought she might faint. "You're a,"

    "A spirit, why yes. An earthbound and restless one,

    forever drawn to return to Mablethorpe every All Hallow's night. Isn't that
    quite a tale? I most humbly apologies for subjecting you to my battle
    experiences earlier, but t'was the only way I was able to wake you."

    She looked him up and down. He did look a gentleman, to be

    sure, and a handsome one at that. The signature red coat, crossed with white
    belts, the brown hair tied back in a q

    0 min
  • Jenna, the Vicar's Wife: Part 4
    Jenna, the Vicar's Wife: Part 4
    Her Mentula Cōleī
    Baptism

    A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.



    Christmas was fast approaching, and festive events were in

    full swing at St. Michael's Church.

    "Well not long to go until Jesus' birthday," Reverend

    Morris smiled as he and Jenna finished putting up their Christmas decorations.
    "Just two weeks. Which reminds me, there's another very special person's
    birthday a week before the festive season, "

    "Oh yes. I'd forgotten!" Jenna replied.

    "Jenna my love, it's your 21st! You can't forget

    something like that. I want it to be a truly memorable birthday for you. Is
    there anything in particular you'd really, really like? Please give it some
    thought. Turning 21 is a milestone."

    "I will Simon. But I pretty much have everything I've

    ever wanted already," she smiled, slipping her arms round him.

    Later, Jenna was engrossed in reading something on her

    smartphone.

    "Imagine that," she whispered to herself.

    Noticing her excitement, Reverend Morris became curious.

    "What's grabbed your attention, Jen?"

    " Mentula Cōleī

    Baptism," she blurted out, without thinking.

    Her husband looked confused. "Pardon?"

    "Oh! It's nothing. Just an old fertility rite of the

    Eastern Orthodox, in some Asian nations! The Japanese call it bukkake. The
    loose translation of Mentula Cōleī   is cock & balls . And it follows the
    Anglican tradition of sprinkling. Er, would you like a cup of tea?

    "Sure."

    Later, when Jenna was having a shower, Reverend Morris

    picked up his phone. "Bukkake, she said. How does one spell that,
    then?" He typed into the browser. Boocaka? Bookaki? Bukacay? On the third
    attempt, the browser's autocorrect suggested the correct term.

    "Oh, so that's how it's spelt. He clicked on a

    Wikipedia link. "Good God!" He spluttered, as he read all about the
    act. When he'd finished, he chuckled to himself. "You learn something new
    every day. The Internet never disappoints, "

    At the Wednesday Eucharist, Gordon had just finished the

    recessional hymn. The midweek service always had a lower turnout than the
    Sunday service, but numbers had been steadily increasing all year.

    "Morning Gordon," Reverend Morris said, appearing

    at the side of the organ.

    "Oh hello vicar," the organist replied.

    "Quite full today. I don't know, the news says that Christianity is
    declining in this country but this church seems to be the exception."

    "It does, and that pleases me greatly. I can't speak

    for all churches in England, but knowing that our community here at St.
    Michael's is thriving, well it lifts my heart. I tend not to pay much attention
    to the news these days. Too depressing. Difficult times for so many. Strikes,
    cost of living and all that. Oh and England getting knocked out of the World
    Cup."

    "Mmm, yes," Gordon nodded. "Couldn't care

    less about football. I never watch it. Horse racing is my thing. How's Jenna
    and Christopher?"

    "Oh they're both fine, actually I need to discuss

    something important with you, Gordon. Jenna's 21st birthday is next week. I was
    wondering if you could help me with something?"

    "Certainly, vicar!" He replied, switching off the

    light above the organ's keyboards. "Happy to help in any way I can."

    "Okay, but not here. Come to my study right now,

    please."

    "Right you are," Gordon said. He didn't even have

    time to remove his robe and hang it up in the vestry. He was intrigued. The way
    the vicar was summoning him to the study sounded a bit ominous. He felt like a
    kid at school being summoned to the headmaster in order to receive a
    punishment. He meekly followed the vicar down the aisle.

    "Close the door if you please," Reverend Morris

    said, as he beckoned the organist into the study. Gordon did as he asked, and
    was surprised to find Josh the curate, Father Aiden, Bishop George and Norman
    Winstanley the new churchwarden all waiting.

    "Eh, what's all this, vicar?" Gordon exclaimed.

    "A lads-only party?"

    "Gentlemen," Reverend Morris began. "I've

    invited you here because you are trusted spiritual mentors; and trusted friends
    of mine. As servants of God, you all have your own important tasks to perform.
    Now what I am about to ask you, requires a great deal of trust. As good
    Christians, I wonder if you'll be able to fulfil this very unique anointing
    ceremony a parishioner has requested."

    Father Aiden crossed himself. "I am always ready to do

    the Lord's work."

    "Me too," Gordon said. "And if there's free

    beer included, well that's a bonus!"

    "Well this task concerns Jenna, my wife."

    The men in the study all fell silent. There was a great deal

    of shuffling feet and awkward coughs!

    One week later,

    "Where are we going, Simon?" Jenna asked, as he

    got into the car. She assumed they were going to a restaurant.

    "The church. Just a little birthday surprise."

    When they arrived, Reverend Morris requested that Jenna

    close her eyes.

    "Absolutely no peeking!" He said as he led her

    down the aisle.

    "This is so exciting!" Jenna said. "Let me

    guess, the whole congregation of St. Michael's are going to leap out and yell
    Happy Birthday, right?"

    "Close, but no cigar!" The vicar replied.

    "Now, just sit on this stool, "

    Father Aiden was driving down the high street, on his way to

    St. Michael's Church. His heart was pounding like crazy.

    "I can't believe I agreed to take part in this,"

    he mumbled to himself. "Lord in heaven, why am I doing this? Haven't I
    sinned enough already?"

    He fiddled with the car radio. Most of the stations were

    planning Christmas songs 24/7 now. Chris's Rea's Driving Home for Christmas
    started playing. This was the third time today he'd heard this song. Passing a
    Tesco Express store, Father Aiden decided he needed some Dutch courage before
    he could partake in the special "celebration" at the church. A cheap
    bottle of whiskey or gin would suffice. Parking up, he hurried into the store
    and walked straight into a woman who was loaded up with shopping.

    "I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed, picking up the tube

    of gift wrap she'd dropped.

    "Aiden?"

    He froze and looked up. "R is n?"

    "My God! It is you! I can't believe it!" the

    red-haired woman gasped.

    "W-what are you doing in this neck of the woods?"

    Father Aiden said. "Did you leave Liverpool?"

    "Sure did. I've jumped ship. I'm at the Living Earth

    Free Church now and I'm loving every minute. I've become a vicar, well they
    call us leaders. It suits me just fine. What about you, are you still with the
    Catholic Church?"

    The priest looked awkwardly at her. "Erm, sort of. I've

    been fighting a conflict with myself these past couple of weeks."

    R is n smiled at him. "You think your future lies

    elsewhere?"

    He took a deep breath. "Maybe?"

    She put down her shopping bags and took his hand. "I've

    never stopped thinking about you, Aiden. I know you broke things off because
    you couldn't break your celibacy vows, "

    "Oh but that's the thing. I fled Liverpool and moved to

    this town, and the first thing I did was to break my celibacy vows, "

    R is n's face fell. "Oh, so you've met someone?"

    "Uh, No. It was just a, one-off. But it made me think

    that I'm just not cut out for a celibate life. And because of that, I can't
    continue in my current profession."

    "Well you're too attractive for that."

    A blush spread across the priest's face. "Would you

    like to go for a drink?"

    "Thought you'd never ask! Let me dump this stuff in the

    car and then I'm all yours!"

    "Sorry Jenna," Father Aiden said to himself as he

    slipped his arm around R is n and they strolled into the town center. "But
    I'm sure you'll have fun without me. Thanks for helping me see the light
    though."

    Jenna could hear muffled whisperings and several male

    voices. She wondered what was going to happen next. "Can I look yet?"

    "No not yet," Reverend Morris replied. "Just

    a sec, " The vicar ushered Gordon, Josh, Bishop George and Norman in front
    of the altar, where several candles has been lit. "Where's Father
    Aiden?"

    "Guess he chickened out?" Gordon muttered.

    "Maybe he's in a confession booth? Ha-ha!"

    "Oh well, fair enough. It was a lot to ask, Okay Jenna,

    you can open your eyes now!"

    Jenna opened her eyes, to see the organist, the curate, the

    Bishop, and the churchwarden all stood round her. Gordon was wearing his best
    suit and the black robe he wore when playing the organ, and

    Josh was wearing his cassock and surplice.

    "Oh my. Good evening, boys!" She said. "Are

    you all here to wish me Happy Birthday?"

    "We certainly are," Gordon grinned, rubbing his

    crotch. "We're here to give you the most memorable birthday ever, eh
    chaps? As it's a special one, and you're a very special lass, Jenna!"

    "Aww, you're all so sweet," Jenna replied, still

    not aware of what was about to happen. "I love being part of this
    church."

    "And you've brought so much happiness to it,"

    Reverend Morris said. Now it's time for us to repay your kindness." He
    nodded at Gordon and the others. "Now don't keep my lovely wife waiting,
    she's eager to be baptized!"

    "Huh?" Jenna blinked. "Baptized?"

    Gordon volunteered to go first. He unzipped his trousers and

    pulled out his cock. "Come on lads, don't be shy, eh?" Seconds later,
    Josh and Bishop George did the same. Norman hesitated a moment, but finally
    followed suit and unzipped. Jenna's mouth dropped in amazement as four
    delicious erect cocks were pointed right at her. She was too stunned to speak,
    and turned to Reverend Morris, who was standing back from the others, and also
    wearing church vestments.

    "This is our 21st birthday present to you," the

    vicar said. "A Mentula Cōleī Baptism."
    It s been part of early Assyrian Christian marriage ceremonies in Asia, to
    anoint a young bride s womb, before the couple consummates. The church elders
    would meet with the couple after the public ceremony vows, to anoint the
    virgin.

    "Oh, my, God" Jenna gasped. "Simon,

    how?"

    The reverend simply put his hands together, as though in

    prayer. "I asked God for help in getting you the perfect present. He knows
    everything, you see. I'm just sorry that Father Aiden decided to opt out, and
    unfortunately the Archbishop of Canterbury was unavailable as he's currently in
    Ukraine. John Wesley's ghost, well one cannot book a last-minute appointment
    with the dead, alas. But I hope those of us that are here will satisfy
    you?"

    Jenna licked her lips. "Hell yes!" She knelt down

    before them. "Oh Gordon, I see you've got an organ pipe that needs
    blowing," she said as she pulled down his trousers and briefs and squeezed
    his erection. "Let's see if you can hit the right notes."

    "I always hit the right notes," he chuckled.

    "Especially when you're playing my instrument, "

    "Umm. You're an organist who always entertains,"

    she commented as she lowered her mouth over the end of his cock.

    Jenna sucked on the head, tasting him as she ran her tongue

    over the sensitive opening, while pumping the shaft with her hand. She took
    more and more of his hardness into her mouth until she felt him hit the back of
    her throat. She relaxed and pushed on until she had his whole member in her
    mouth and she was nuzzling his silvery pubic hair. He groaned as he grabbed the
    back of her head and thrust into her mouth.

    Reverend Morris watched in admiration and amazement as his

    wife expertly sucked the organist's cock. Gordon was quite well-endowed, but
    that was no challenge to Jenna. Seeing her pleasuring another man like this had
    got him as hard as a rock. He massaged his erection through his cassock and
    surplice. Could she cope with more than one man though?

    Josh was growing impatient, and his cock was desperate for

    attention. "Fancy trying some younger meat, Jenna? I think you've fully
    re-tuned the organist's organ."

    "Don't rush the lass," Gordon sighed. "Wait

    your turn, lad!"

    "I'm sure you can't wait to taste it," he said as

    he pushed his throbbing shaft in her face.

    Jenna didn't hesitate, she removed Gordon's cock and Josh

    pushed his erection deep into her mouth. He grabbed her head and she began
    sucking him hard.

    "Oh yeah! Praise the Lord! Oh I'm coming!"

    "So soon?" Gordon chuckled. You younger fellas

    have no endurance!"

    "Now now, enough of that," Jenna said. Play nice."

    She unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her pert breasts. "Mmm, give me some
    cum, Josh!"

    The sight of her tits pushed the curate over the edge and he

    erupted, glazing them with his hot seed.

    "So delicious! Thanks so much Josh. What an impressive

    load. No longer shy I see! Like I said, you'll make one hell of a vicar one
    day!" Jenna felt an intense tingling sensation of arousal and a moistening
    in her pussy. The crotch of her panties turned a darker shade of red as her
    nectar seeped out of her and soaked them. Reaching under her skirt, she began
    fingering herself.

    "We vicars produce more cum, right?" Reverend

    Morris chuckled, jacking off in the background.

    "Hell yes."

    "Organists produce a lot too," Gordon interrupted.

    "Oh fuck, now I'm coming, Jenna, .oh!"

    Jets of creamy white cum surged forth through the air from

    the tip of Gordon's thick "organ pipe." As the first of them struck
    Jenna's pale skin she could feel the warmth of the virile seed upon her face.
    More strands of spunk splashed across her cheeks. A jet catching her on the
    nose quickly dripped down across her lips and chin and filled her nostrils with
    its tangy odor. Jenna could feel the thick sticky goo mess her red hair. Jizz
    ran down her forehead in rivulets joining the cum on her nose and cheeks or
    getting stuck in a gooey mess in her eyelashes. By now her eyes were closing
    somewhat as she reached her own orgasm. Letting out a mewling moan she came to
    the plastering of her face with the organist's cum.

    "Cum cantibus in choro. Cum canticis et organo!"

    Jenna yelled.

    "I should know what that means, but I don't,"

    Gordon panted.

    "It translates as "let the organ thunder, let

    voice and organ sing."

    Gordon was smug, knowing that it was his spunk that had made

    her climax. "Latin is full of cum isn't it? How marvelous!"

    "Wow Jenna, I'm impressed." Bishop George smiled,

    calmly presenting his cock to her. "You're an expert at playing the pipe
    organ. But now I have a bishop for you to bash."

    "Right Reverend, it is an honor to get my hands on your

    crosier again," Jenna said, pulling his trousers down.

    "Bloody hell, are you wearing ladies' knickers

    Bish?" Gordon interrupted, noticing the pink panties. "You kinky
    bugger."

    "High ranking clergy need to be comfortable under their

    cassocks!" Bishop George replied. "Ah, Oh my God!" Jenna gently
    took hold of his shaft with one dainty hand and began to stroke his length. At
    the same time her lips slipped down to his balls and she began to suck gently
    upon one of them. When she took the entire orb into her mouth the bishop groaned
    as he felt her tongue began to tease the tender flesh. He could scarcely
    believe that this was happening, that the parish vicar's wife was on her knees
    before him sucking his pastoral staff in the church!

    Jenna took care to alternate from one of the bishop's plums

    to another as she stroked up and down his length with one hand. Droplets of
    precum had begun to escape the tip of his cock and she could feel them dripping
    down onto her forehead. She began to lick a wavy trail along the underside of
    his shaft moving her tongue from side to side as she worked her way towards the
    tip of his prick. When she reached the base of his head she opened her mouth,
    her tongue still touching his cock-head, and gripping at the base of his shaft
    she worked her hand down along his length forcing the precum out and straight
    onto her tongue.

    "Wow," Reverend Morris said. "She's amazing.

    Taking the Bishop as well!"

    "Blessed, " Bishop George said, closing his eyes

    and putting his bony hands together. "Jenna, I anoint thee!" He may
    have been the oldest man of the group, but he produced a tremendous amount of
    cum. Jenna hurriedly cast off her sticky blouse, just in time to be baptized in
    Bishop George's holy jizz. she almost wasn't prepared for the huge volume of
    cum he released, and this was far from over!

    "Oh dear Lord, Reverend!" She moaned, as the

    copious dollop of man-juice coated her face, breasts and belly, just about
    everywhere, mixing with the cum already released by Josh and Gordon. It was so
    viscous and creamy, fuck! Jenna was in ecstasy! She'd never imagined bukkake
    would be as good as this, and in the church, well that just made it even
    better! The candlelight reflected off her glazed breasts. It was all so
    overwhelming and she came a second time.

    "Ready for some more, little vixen?" Norman the

    churchwarden said, offering his cock to her. "I'll tell you a Frank Carson
    joke. So, an Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman walk into a bar. The
    barman looks at them and says: "Is this some kind of a joke?"

    Jenna giggled. "This cock of yours is no joke,

    Norman!" She grabbed it with both hands. "You've been good haven't
    you? Keeping your hands to yourself?"

    "I kept my promise. I'd like to get my hands on you

    though. I think you'd better slip out of that skirt. It's already spunked up.
    Any chance I could squeeze that arse of yours?"

    "I want you to cum all over my arse cheeks, Norman.

    Think you can manage that?"

    "Is the Pope a Catholic?" Norman replied.

    Jen

    0 min
  • Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 3
    Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 3
    Fellatio Rites for the Ghost of John Wesley

    A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.



    Jenna took a deep breath as she approached Oakwood Road

    Methodist Church.

    "Are you sure you don't want me to come in with

    you?" Reverend Morris asked.

    She patted his shoulder. "I'll be fine Simon. You don't

    need to worry. It's the ghost of John Wesley, not Jack the Ripper. This is
    exciting! I hope he'll appear!"

    "Right, well, I'll be sat in the car then. I hope you

    won't be too long. Remember, just turn and run the moment you feel in any way
    uncomfortable."

    "Reverend Morris, I think you're scared!"

    "No I'm not! I can't help being concerned for the

    safety of the woman I love can I? Aren't you a tiny bit nervous?"

    "I'm as cool as spring water," Jenna replied.

    "I was reading all about John Wesley last night. He was a true gentleman.
    I'm sure this won't take long."

    Reverend Morris nodded as he watched his wife enter the

    church. "Well if anyone can fix this, Jenna can. I don't know what she
    said to the Archbishop of Canterbury last week, but he changed his mind about
    the wall plaque faster than the Government does U-turns. I wonder what she said
    to him? Whatever it was, Justin Welby was impressed!"

    He reclined in his car seat. "I was so lucky to meet

    Jenna. Of course, it was God who delivered her to me. That fateful Sunday
    morning in the vestry, oh."

    Father Aiden was walking along the street. Many things were

    on his mind. He had some important decisions to make about his future in the
    priesthood. Briefly glancing up from his smartphone, his heart jumped as he
    spotted Jenna entering the Methodist church across the road.

    "Holy Mother, " he muttered. A rush of excitement

    swept over him as he recalled the intimate encounter he'd enjoyed a few weeks
    ago. It was that which had spurred him to think about his future. He quickly
    crossed the road.

    "Hello Father!"

    The priest almost dropped his phone. Someone was shouting at

    him from a parked car.

    "Oh, Reverend Morris. Hello there." Damn, no

    chance of a repeat encounter, he thought. "I've just seen your wife going
    into the Methodist church."

    "Yes, I hope she won't be long. I'm just waiting for

    her."

    "Are you alright? You look a bit anxious, if you don't

    mind me saying."

    "It's a long story, Father. I think you'd better sit

    down in the passenger seat and I'll tell you. You've not heard about what's
    been going on in Oakwood Road church have you?"

    The priest looked confused. "Nope. Tell me more!"

    He opened the car door and sat down. I could do to unburden myself too."

    "Okay, well, this might sound a bit weird."

    "I can handle anything weird," Father Aiden

    replied.

    "It's about ghosts. As a Catholic, what are your

    thoughts on them and have you ever seen one?"

    Father Aiden thought about his answer very carefully.

    "Hmm. In theory, billions of ghosts potentially exist because billions of
    human beings have "lost" their bodies through death. Strictly
    speaking, these disembodied souls are not ghosts because they have never become
    discernible to any living people. Only those few souls whose presence is seen
    or felt by others are truly ghosts. And their existence is real."

    "So you've seen one?"

    "Yes. Two actually. Once in Ireland when I was a child

    and another when I was based in Liverpool. I was called upon to rid a family's
    home of a troubled spirit."

    Reverend Morris looked relieved. "That's good to

    know."

    "The Old Testament also has a few ghost stories. The

    most famous one is in 1 Samuel 28:8--20. Here the inspired writer tells how
    King Saul met with the ghost of the prophet Samuel." Father Aiden replied.
    "Have you seen a ghost?"

    "Yes. And not just any ghost, but the ghost of John

    Wesley! He's haunting the Methodist church. That's why I'm here. Jenna's gone
    in there to try and help him return to, the other side."

    "Oh I see, then she must, wait, what?" Father

    Aiden did a double take.

    "Thanks for coming' along Mrs. Morris," Reverend

    Ewing said, shaking Jenna's hand. "I know you probably think this whole
    thing is crazy."

    "Not at all! And call me Jenna. I'm a true believer. If

    my husband says that you and he saw John Wesley, then I know it's true. But why
    does John want to see me of all people?"

    "Your hubby mentioned that your grandma is a

    Methodist?"

    "Uh yeah. Bit of a tenuous link. Like Sir Henry

    Barrington-Smythe's horse."

    "Huh?"

    "Oh, never mind. Figure of speech."

    "You Brits and your little quirks!" Reverend Ewing

    laughed. "I'm still getting used to 'em!"

    "You said John usually appears in the vestry?"

    "Uh-huh. Can be anywhere in the church, but he seems to

    like the vestry best."

    "Right, well go and wait in there and say a few

    prayers, and see if he appears. I'm not sure I can do anything, but I'll try my
    best."

    Jenna entered the vestry. Everything looked perfectly normal

    in there. She closed the door and looked around.

    "It always comes back to the vestry," she smiled

    to herself as she recalled when she first got to know Reverend Morris.

    Suddenly, the row of gowns on the rail began to swing on

    their hangers. The temperature dropped, and Jenna rubbed her arms.

    "Are you there, John?" She called out.

    "Yes."

    She spun round. There was no sign of the spirit. "Hey,

    come on, show yourself at least. It's no fun talking to the invisible
    man."

    "My sincere apologies," John replied, and slowly

    faded into view. For the first time, Jenna was taken aback. "My God, you
    really are John Wesley, "

    He nodded and bowed. "Bless ye, for am so honored you

    hath come here. If I may be so bold to say, you be a lady of great beauty my
    dear."

    "Very kind of you to say, Mr. Wesley." Jenna said.

    "Why are you back in the land of the living? Aren't you happy in
    Heaven?"

    "Ah yes," he began. "Happier than mortals can

    ever imagine. But you see, I feel compelled to return to this realm every All
    Hallow's Eve. I like to re-visit the places where I worshipped back when I was
    alive. And it was in this very place where this church now stands that I
    preached to crowds back in the autumn of 1778."

    "You've got a lot of places to visit in just one night,"

    Jenna said. "I read all about you. You travelled all over England
    spreading the Word of the Lord. Plus you went to America, the colonies, when
    you were younger."

    "Indeed I did, yes. To my regret, I lingered a little

    too long here, for I found myself unable to return to the afterlife. The sun
    had started to rise, heralding All Saint's Day. Thus, I am trapped here in this
    church until next All Hallow's Eve. Only a tremendous release of positive
    energy could allow me to return before then."

    "Oh dear. May I ask why out of all the people in the

    world, you wanted to see me? What can I do? My gran is a Methodist. Is that the
    reason?"

    "No Miss Jenna. It was your aura that attracted me.

    It's very strong. I believe God himself must've embodied you with some sort of
    innate goodness that allows you to help people."

    "You're making me sound like some kind of saint! I

    assure you I'm just a regular human being. I'm not particularly gifted in
    anything, although I do try to be a good person, "

    John had a rather dreamy expression on his face. "You

    remind me so much of Grace Murray, a lady I loved and lost, only you be far
    prettier than her."

    It was then that Jenna had an idea. A huge grin spread

    across her face. She'd read all about John Wesley's life and how unlucky he'd
    been in love. "A tremendous release of positive energy, you say? I think I
    know something which may cause that!"

    John put his hands together. "You do? Pray, do tell, my

    dear."

    "You need to experience an orgasm. What could be more

    positive than that?"

    He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

    "Oh you know, " She tried to think of a

    period-appropriate phrase so he'd understand. "The end act of carnal
    relations?"

    He blushed. "Oh. Miss Jenna I be a man of God. I don't

    see how, "

    Jenna sank to her knees. "Only one way to find out,

    John!" She paused. So he's a ghost. I've never pleasured a ghost before.
    Isn't he composed of just gas? He's quite cute, for someone who died in 1791! I
    wonder if,

    She reached out to touch him, and expected her hand to pass

    right through his body, but it didn't. He jolted at her touch.

    "Don't worry John. I've done this before, many times in

    fact. It's a great honor to be able to do it to you. I'm sure this will help
    you."

    The moment of first contact had arrived. Jenna let one hand

    gently glide ever so slightly over John's thigh, encased in tight black
    breeches. Reaching out with the other hand, she ran it over his crotch, feeling
    an impressive bulge.

    "Oh my! I feel strangely warmed yet again!" John

    sighed.

    Jenna fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, being more

    used to zippers. Something large and splendid lurked within. Either that or he
    had a Bible stuffed down there. "My God!" she gasped, as the
    Methodist's member was revealed. The short, slightly-built John Wesley was hung
    like a horse!

    "How on earth were you so unlucky in love?" Jenna

    exclaimed.

    "Mostly the ladies deserted me long before I even

    reached the bedchamber," he mumbled.

    "Well I'm not deserting you." She wrapped her lips

    around his cock head and swirled her tongue for a bit before plunging all the
    way down his shaft. He emitted a deep and low groan.

    Jenna slowly bobbed her head along his shaft over and over,

    with her hands grabbing his thighs for support. He moaned in pleasure with each
    and every stroke of her soft and warm mouth.

    "Oh dear God," he whimpered. "Your mouth. It

    feels amazing."

    It was clear that poor John Wesley had never experienced a

    blowjob before, not in life, nor the afterlife, and Jenna instantly felt very
    generous to be giving him this incredible gift. His breathing was erratic, and
    she sensed that he had already reached a point of near-climax, and was doing
    everything he could to fight it off.

    Jenna's expert mouth slowly bobbed up and down his shaft.

    She then paused at the bottom and held his huge shaft completely inside her
    mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. She reached through his legs,
    grabbed his arse, and pulled him toward her in an attempt to get him even
    deeper into her throat.

    "Uh!" he moaned. "I'm not going to last much

    longer. I fear I shall spend!"

    Outside the vestry, Reverend Ewing paced back and forth,

    wondering what the strange groaning noises were all about.

    "The hell is going' on in there?" She said out

    loud.

    Jenna slowly slid her mouth back over his shaft and removed

    him from her mouth. She wore the naughtiest smile, and John could tell she was
    thoroughly enjoying this as much as he was. She took his cock into her mouth
    once more and slid her tongue back and forth along the underside of his shaft.
    He responded with another moan, louder and more urgent than before. She removed
    him once again from her mouth and looked toward him with a smile. the faint
    silver light surrounding John was more radiant than before.

    "Are you ready to spend?" She asked, looking up at

    him from her knees. John was so overwhelmed, he couldn't speak. He simply
    nodded his head and grunted.

    "Then I want you to come for me," she said. With

    that, she slid his wet cock back into her mouth. Once again she reached through
    his legs to grab his arse and pull him toward her, and she began to furiously
    fuck him with her mouth. He placed his hands on the back of her head and thrust
    himself into her mouth, over and over, filling the vestry with the wet sound of
    fellation.

    Jenna began moaning, and her muffled moans seemed to push

    John over the edge. With her mouth still filled with his cock, he stopped his
    thrusting and gave a loud groan. His body tensed and shook, and Jenna did
    everything she could to swallow his massive load, but it was too much. Some of
    his thick cum leaked from the corner of her mouth and splashed down the front
    of her pink top.

    "Ah!" John sighed, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

    Thoroughly satisfied, he cried out in joy. "Thank you! Thank you so
    much!"

    Pleased to have completely drained him, she removed his cock

    from her mouth. His cum was delicious. Ghost cum tasted just as good as that
    from a living man.

    All at once, a pillar of light surrounded John.

    "Ah! I'm free once more! You've freed me Jenna! I can't

    thank you enough! I can return and be at peace!" He began to rise up into
    the air. "I hope we shall meet again sometime! Farewell and God
    bless!"

    Jenna stood up and wiped her lips. "Godspeed, John! Oh!

    Just one more thing, next time you visit, can you bring your brother Charles
    along?"

    Reverend Ewing was about to knock on the vestry door, when

    it suddenly opened.

    "Oh! Is everything alright?"

    "Everything's fine. You can reopen your church. John's

    spirit is at peace once more."

    "For sure? He's really gone? But how?"

    "I just said a prayer for him. Told him how much his

    teaching continues to inspire people to this day. That seemed to satisfy him
    and he just faded away."

    "Well thank you so much, Jenna," the reverend

    said, shaking her hand. "I'm so glad it's all over. It was really
    stressing me out! and I'm so happy that John is at peace in the Lord's kingdom
    again. Oh, what's that on your clothing?"

    Jenna looked down and was mortified at the huge globs of

    cum. "Oh dear. It's, candle wax. I didn't realize it had spilled. I must
    get going now, Reverend Ewing. Simon is waiting in the car and he'll be getting
    worried."

    "Of course. Thank you again, and give my regards to

    Simon!"

    When she'd gone, Reverend Ewing looked round the vestry.

    "Hmm, strange. There are no candles in here."

    The lecherous church warden meets his match.

    After peace was restored to Oakwood Road Methodist Church,

    and the spirit of John Wesley successfully liberated, Jenna and Reverend Morris
    turned their attentions to this weekend's Remembrance Sunday service. This was
    always a major event, and the people would be crammed into St. Michael's like
    sardines.

    "I've finally completed this special sermon,"

    Reverend Morris said, handing Jenna his iPad. "Have a read and tell me
    what you think. I included your suggestions about the importance of teaching
    the younger generation about those who died in wars. Also the bit about Winston
    Churchill being a flawed figure. Good suggestion, that. As human beings we are
    all flawed in some way."

    "It looks fantastic. Let me grab a coffee and settle

    down to enjoy this!"

    "I hope it won't come across as too boring. You know I

    always get paranoid about my sermons. So many churchgoers dread a long
    sermon!"

    "Your sermons are always fun and relevant, Simon,

    You're too hard on yourself."

    The mild-mannered vicar smiled. "Aww, thanks! Oh and I

    hope Norman Winstanley behaves himself this weekend. I had to have a quiet word
    with him during the Wednesday morning service."

    "The new churchwarden? What's he done wrong?"

    "Well, as you know, he took over from dear old Albert

    who died last month. He'd previously been at St. John's, but sadly, that church
    has closed for good and is being demolished. Such a shame. It was a great
    church back in the day."

    "Very sad when a church dies. What are they building in

    its place?" Jenna asked.

    "An Aldi supermarket. Anyways, about Norman. He's

    sixty-five and a terrible lecher, to put it plainly. Some say he's Sid James
    and Benny Hill cranked up to eleven. He didn't get nicknamed Carry On Norm for
    nothing."

    Jenna was immediately intrigued. How come I've never noticed

    this guy before? She thought. "Ooh. So he likes to ogle young women does
    he?"

    "Yes, but not just young! I've seen him staring at the

    legs of older women too. Last Sunday, I caught him perving at Mrs. Wilcox when
    she was doing the flower arranging. And she's about eighty! Though I admit, she
    does have nice legs, for someone er, so mature."

    "Naughty boy. At least he's not ageist." Jenna

    said. "He needs to get on OnlyFans."

    Reverend Morris couldn't help but laugh. "You always

    try to see the best in everyone! Well just looking is one thing, but Norman has
    built up a bit of a reputation for being a qualified pincher of bottoms. I
    won't tolerate that sort of behavior. It's completely unacceptable. I'm
    surprised he's avoided getting into more trouble, to be honest."

    "Is he married?"

    "No, widowed. Took early retirement too. Has far too

    much time on his hands. And we all know that the Devil makes work for idle
    hands, "

    "So true," Jenna nodded. "He makes bottoms

    for idle hands to pinch. "I don't think I've seen Norman. What does he
    look like?"

    "Well he wears glasses and he's the spitting image of

    Frank Carson."

    Jenna blinked. "Who?"

    "Heh, I keep forgetting the age gap between us. Frank

    was a Northern Irish comedian. He's dead now. My dad was and still is a massive
    fan of him. He used to go and see him on stage at Blackpool in the 1990s."
    Reverend Morris looked up a picture of the comedian on his phone and showed it
    to her.

    "Ok. I'll keep an eye out for Norman this Sunday!"

    "If he tries anything with you, tell me at once!"

    "Oh don't worry. He wouldn't dare," Jenna replied,

    smirking to herself, an idea already forming in her mind. Naughty Norman. I
    can't have a churchwarden with wandering hands threatening Simon's church. I'd better
    get my hands on him before he causes any more trouble!

    As expected, the Sunday service was very well-attended.

    Jenna had arrived early,

    0 min
  • Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 2
    Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 2
    Dinner with the Archbishop of Canterbury

    A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.



    On Monday afternoon, a letter arrived at the vicarage that

    took Reverend Morris by surprise.

    "I don't believe this!" He gasped, reading the

    letter out loud to Jenna. "It's from Bishop George. He says that Justin
    Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury is planning to visit next week."

    "Whoa, " Jenna spluttered.

    "Yup. You and I have been invited to dine at Bishop

    George's place. Apparently the Archbishop is visiting several dioceses, and
    parish churches, and for some bizarre reason, humble little St. Michael's
    church has caught his eye! Bishop George states that I'll be receiving a letter
    from the Archbishop over the next few days, outlining the reason for his
    visit."

    "Wow, what a tremendous honor for you, Simon!"

    Jenna smiled, flinging her arms around him. "Well you're the best vicar
    ever, so he obviously wants to give you some sort of award!"

    "Hmm, maybe?" Reverend Morris re-read the letter.

    "This is totally unexpected, and a bit bizarre. I can't get my head round
    it."

    "I remember seeing Justin Welby give that speech when

    we were watching the Queen's funeral." Jenna said. "And to think,
    we're going to get to meet him! This is really exciting!"

    "I wish I shared your optimism my love, but I can't

    help but thinking that there's a catch."

    A few days later, Reverend Morris' fears were confirmed when

    a second letter arrived.

    "I don't believe this!" The vicar lamented as he

    read the Archbishop's letter. "It has come to the Archbishop's attention
    that there is a big plaque in St. Michael's church that commemorates a local
    man called Henry Barrington-Smythe, who died in 1695 and worshipped at the
    church. According to the covert research conducted by the Archbishop, Henry
    once owned a horse that he sold to someone whose second cousin twice removed,
    was involved in the slave trade."

    "I can see how that could be seen as quite triggering

    in this day and age," Jenna said. "But I'm sure the horse wasn't
    bothered."

    Reverend Morris slapped his forehead. "Oh this is a

    nightmare. The Archbishop recommends that the plaque is removed. It's not that
    simple though. It's actually carved into the wall, near the organ pipes. To
    remove it, would cause terrible damage to the wall! Our little church is so
    old, and we've worked so hard to fundraise to repair the roof."

    Jenna narrowed her eyes, seeing how distressed her husband

    was. This situation needed rectifying immediately.

    "Simon, try not to worry. When we dine at Bishop

    George's place, you will have the chance to put your point across to the
    Archbishop. Has he made this information about the plaque public?"

    "No," Reverend Morris replied. "To be honest,

    I know hardly anything about this Henry Barrington-Smythe chap. I Googled him
    once, and information was really scarce. Nothing on Wikipedia. A few obscure
    paragraphs on the parish register. He was vicar here during the 1670s and left
    a lot of money to the church in his will."

    Jenna smiled. "Oh good. So what we have here is a

    controlled situation."

    "For now. I expect he'll tweet all about it after the

    meeting."

    We'll see about that, Jenna thought to herself.

    The day of the meeting arrived. Reverend Morris anxiously

    fiddled with his clerical collar and kept checking his watch. Nearly time to
    set off to Bishop George's house.

    Presently, Jenna came breezing into the sitting room, where

    her husband stood, gazing out of the window at the front garden beyond. In a
    pale pink gown, pearl cross earrings, and her red hair swept back, she looked
    more suited to a red carpet event in Hollywood than a sober meal with the
    clergy.

    "Do I look alright?" She asked, knowing full well

    what Reverend Morris' response would be.

    "Oh my God, wow, you look absolutely beautiful as

    always, Jenna. Right well, we'd better get going."

    "Try not to worry, Simon." She said, kissing him.

    "It might not be as bad as it seems."

    He sighed. "St. Michael's church means so much to me. I

    treasure its heritage. You and I, we've both worked so hard to build up its
    congregation, raise money to restore the roof, the stained glass windows and to
    fix the dry rot in the vestry."

    "And we shall continue to treasure it. Don't you worry.

    Things might turn out alright. I'm sure an acceptable compromise can be
    reached."

    "I hope so."

    They headed to the car. A plan was forming in Jenna's mind.

    Justin Welby isn't the best-looking of men, she thought. Mind you, I don't plan
    on looking at his face,

    Bishop George was stood at the door of his home when Jenna

    and Reverend Morris arrived.

    "Great to see you both!" He smiled. "Can't

    say I'm happy at what the Big Boss is proposing here."

    "You and me both, George," Simon sighed. Jenna

    winked at the bishop.

    "Right, do go in, make yourself comfortable, there are

    refreshments waiting. Dinner shall be served at six. Bishop Finch was supposed
    to be here too, you remember him? Alas, he cried off. Dishonest and he drinks.
    Good bishops are so hard to find these days, eh?" Bishop George ushered
    him in. As Jenna walked past, he winked back at her.

    "I've got your red lace panties on tonight," he

    whispered.

    "A great choice!" Jenna whispered back.

    Reverend Morris sipped a sherry as he nervously awaited the

    Archbishop's arrival. Five minutes later, there was the sound of a car door
    being slammed shut, and Bishop George could be heard welcoming someone.

    "He's coming," Reverend Morris gulped. "Why

    do I feel like a little kid about to be sent to detention?"

    "God is with us," Jenna replied, patting his

    thigh.

    Bishop George entered the room. "It is a great pleasure

    to welcome our Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, to dine with us this
    evening. Jenna and her husband stood up.

    "Oh good, he's come alone," Jenna smiled, fearing

    that his wife might have accompanied him. He was clad in a grey jacket, with
    black shirt, black trousers, a clerical collar and a large cross round his
    neck.

    Everyone shook hands. "Ah, Reverend Morris," the

    Archbishop began. "The vicar of St. Michael's. Nice to meet you at
    last."

    "Thank you, Your Grace. And this is Jenna, my

    wife."

    Jenna was quick to offer her hand. "I've wanted to meet

    you for such a long time, Your Grace. You're sitting next to me at the
    table!"

    The vicar's young and stunning wife had certainly caused the

    Archbishop to raise an eyebrow. "Am I? Well lucky old me. I am very
    honored!" Privately, he was astonished that the mild-mannered vicar of St.
    Michael's had managed to pull such a gorgeous woman. He was normally immune to
    such things, but found himself rather shamefully gawping at Jenna's cleavage.

    "What a mercy she wasn't at the Queen's funeral,"

    he said to himself. "If she'd been sat in the crowd, I'd have struggled to
    concentrate."

    The pre-dinner conversation between Reverend Morris, Bishop

    George and the Archbishop remained cordial, if not a bit overly formal. While
    the three men spoke, Jenna was a constant figure at the Archbishop's side;
    laughing at his unfunny jokes, pretending to enjoy his boring stories of
    ministry in Africa, inquiring about Westminster Abbey, and generally hanging on
    his every word like an infatuated student with her tutor.

    Bishop George suggested his guests seat themselves at the

    table in preparation for the first course. The Archbishop took his seat. On his
    right was Jenna, and Reverend Morris was opposite him.

    "Bishop George is such a good cook, Reverend Morris

    prattled nervously. "I've dined here before and his roast dinners are
    something to marvel at. I, I enjoy cooking too."

    Sensing her husband's discomfort, Jenna cut in. "He's a

    much better cook than I am. Most things I cook aren't suitable for human
    consumption."

    The Archbishop chuckled. "Let us say a prayer before we

    dine."

    The first course passed without incident, but Jenna was

    hungry for something else. The Archbishop had launched into a lengthy monologue
    about hurtful plaques and statues, and Jenna sensed it was time to act. Bishop
    George was in the kitchen and Reverend Morris excused himself as he needed to
    go to the bathroom. She was alone with the leader of the Church of England, the
    ceremonial head of the worldwide Anglican Communion. Now was the time for the
    vixen to catch her prey.

    "You've done so many impressive things during your

    tenure, Your Grace. Words cannot explain how much I admire you," she
    continued, flattering him off the scale."

    "Why thank you Jenna. "I appreciate your kind

    words!"

    Jenna continued. "Your Grace, I ask you as a good

    Christian, would you not consider dropping this little investigation into this
    pesky old plaque in my husband's church? Your letter has caused him a great
    deal of worry, you have no idea how much, "

    The Archbishop adjusted his glasses. "Jenna, I have no

    wish to cause any distress to your husband. I am simply trying to ensure that
    our C of E churches are inclusive to all, and devoid of harmful imagery."

    He had been quietly sipping his soup. Suddenly, a strange

    sensation made him almost drop his spoon. Something was moving up his right leg
    and pushing his legs apart, the mystery thing continued to rise higher, now it
    was nudging his inner thigh, he realized it was Jenna's hand.

    "Are you enjoying your soup?"

    "Um, Jenna, what are you doing?"

    "As I was saying, your letter has stressed my husband

    out so much, that he and I have been unable to make love all week. Can you
    imagine how upsetting that has been?" Jenna continued, furtively sliding
    her hand across his thigh and squeezing gently.

    The Archbishop glanced down and then at her. "Um, well

    I'm very sorry to hear that."

    She smiled back and began rubbing his inner thigh very

    gently. He cleared his throat and blushed. She said nothing, but continued
    gently rubbing, and moving closer to that treasure she wanted to touch most of
    all.

    "Do you realize what you're doing? I am a married

    man!" He whispered.

    "I do, but you pride yourself on having a liberal

    outlook, yes? Anyways, there is a holy place I would very much like to explore,
    if I may be permitted to do so, if I may be so bold as to request permission
    from Your Grace, "

    "You are, a rather naughty vicar's wife," he

    whispered back, feeling his cheeks flushing.

    "You haven't granted permission, Your Grace."

    The Archbishop took a deep breath. Why was he giving in to

    temptation so easily? If he refused, would she kick up a fuss? Bishop George
    and the vicar could return at any moment.

    "Mrs. Morris, you may do as you wish. I am yours to

    explore, "

    This was all the permission she required. Before the

    Archbishop could complete his sentence, Jenna reached across the startled man's
    lap and quickly unzipped his trousers. He could not believe the dexterity and
    speed at which his beautiful assailant nimbly accomplished the task. He shot an
    astonished wide-eyed glance at the temptress seated next to him. Guessing his
    thoughts, Jenna flashed a mischievous smile and said, "Your Grace. I heard
    that there's a name for a bishop's staff. It's called a crosier. Am I
    right?"

    "Er, yes. That's right."

    Jenna swiftly freed the Archbishop's staff from his white

    boxer shorts. He may not have been the most handsome of men, but he had a
    gorgeous cock. It wasn't a monstrous length like Father Aiden's or thick like
    Gordon's, but it was impressive all the same. Definitely holy!

    The Archbishop's back stiffened and he caught his breath as

    he felt Jenna's soft, warm fingers wrap around his engorged fuck pole. The
    touch from this ravishing young beauty in the most sensual of spots sent chills
    throughout his body. He suppressed a gentle moan in the back of this throat as
    Jenna began to slowly run her hand up and down the shaft.

    She knew to vary the speed of her up and down motion, and

    could sense when the Archbishop was reaching peak ecstasy. Before he could
    achieve sexual release, Jenna slowed her pace or altered the movement in order
    to delay gratification. She wanted the Most Reverend's pleasure to extend for
    as long as possible. Jenna explored every feature along the length of her
    newest conquest's fleshy sceptre. Her delicate fingers rippled over the veiny surface,
    massaged the soft foreskin, and gently squeezed the head. When she reached the
    shaft's base, the eager filly worked her slender digits along the Archbishop's
    inner thigh and cupped his balls, juggling them with her fingertips.

    "Your Grace, I beg of you. I want to go further and

    worship properly. However I cannot do this unless you agree to scrap your
    suggestion that St. Michael's remove its plaque to Henry Barrington-Smythe. Let
    him and his horse rest in peace, yes? Neither of them kept slaves. I'm sure
    Henry sold his horse in good faith and had no idea what links the buyer had. A
    few years ago I gave my old smartphone to a woman at work who turned out to be
    a massive fan of Cliff Richard. Some might say that was a crime against
    humanity."

    The Archbishop was desperate to come. Sweat had broken out

    on his forehead and his glasses were steaming up. "Okay, you have my
    word," he sighed. "I'll scrap the whole thing!"

    "Thankyou, .dear Justin!" She said, using his

    Christian name for the first time. Carefully, Jenna removed one of her
    earrings. The Archbishop had to stifle a gasp as she slid out of her chair and
    under the table. "God," he murmured, almost incredulous at her
    conviction and boldness. Then with almost no hesitation, she dropped her head
    and closed her mouth around his throbbing shaft.

    The Most Reverend's breathing started to become more rapid

    and shallow, an indication Jenna recognized as signaling her oral exertions
    would soon be ending. Wanting to provide the head of the church with the
    greatest amount of pleasure possible, Jenna's grand finale was to deep throat
    his cock and vigorously jerk up and down on it. This motion had the desired
    effect within moments, as a muffled groan escaped the Archbishop's mouth. Jenna
    felt the holy rod in her mouth recoil as it shot a mighty stream of
    pearl-colored ejaculate down her throat. This first round was quickly followed
    by a second and then a third as the Most Reverend's balls unloaded their thick,
    milky contents. Jenna swallowed and savored every drop. It is a truth not
    universally acknowledged, that the taste of a man, especially a man of God, is
    the finest taste in the world, she thought. A final spurt missed its target and
    splashed down her cleavage.

    Only after the last discharge was launched and the Archbishop

    leaned back in his chair exhausted and sweaty, did Jenna finally withdraw.

    The Archbishop jolted in panic as Bishop George and Reverend

    Morris returned to the dining room. He quickly poured himself a glass of water
    and swallowed it. He wondered how to warn Jenna, but she'd already sensed it
    was time to return to her seat.

    "I'm sorry I was so long," Reverend Morris

    mumbled. "Call of nature and all that."

    "And silly me, I forgot to turn the oven up, but worry

    not, the roast beef is nearly ready!" Bishop George replied.

    "Understood," panted the Archbishop, wiping his

    glasses.

    Bishop George tilted his head at his Jenna's empty chair,

    and the movement under the table. He raised the tablecloth.

    "Oh I say, Jenna. Have you lost something?"

    "Just my pearl earring," she calmly replied.

    "But fortunately, I have now found it."

    Bishop George nodded and gave a wry smile. "So I see.

    And you seem to have gained a pearl necklace too!"

    A Ghost Appears at the Methodist Church

    "What are your thoughts on ghosts, Jen?" Reverend

    Morris said as he climbed into bed.

    Jenna reclined next to her husband, and ran a finger through

    his chest hair. "Hmm, never given them much thought. I keep an open mind.
    I've never seen one myself, but I'd like to! I wouldn't be scared. Just really
    fascinated."

    "I might get to see one tomorrow. I've just had a

    rather desperate email from Reverend Marsha Ewing over at the Oakwood Road
    Methodist Church. She's at her wits end. Says her church has been haunted by a
    persistent ghost ever since Halloween. She's tried walking around splashing
    holy water on the walls, saying a prayer of deliverance, but to no avail. The
    church has had to remain closed all week."

    "Whoa, that ghost must really like the Methodist church

    then!" Jenna said. "I haven't been in there since I was a little
    girl. My gran is a Methodist. I remember going to a few services. I remember it
    being light and airy inside, with the white balcony and pale yellow
    walls."

    "Well it's not just any old ghost that's taken up

    residence there. Reverend Ewing is adamant says that it's the ghost of John
    Wesley."

    "What, the John Wesley? The founder of Methodism?"

    Jenna blinked.

    "Yes. That's the bit I find really hard to believe. Not

    saying that Reverend Ewing is lying of course. I just can't understand why John
    Wesley of all people, would choose to return to this earthly realm. I mean, he
    was a true servant of God, a good man, who preached to the masses and led a
    long, pious life. Why would his soul suddenly become restless and earthbound?"

    Jenna was fascinated. "Maybe he didn't choose to

    return. Maybe someone or something lured him back, and he's got trapped
    somehow? Don't they say on All Hallow's Eve, the barrier between the dead and
    the living is broken and the dead can pop back for a visit? Or something?"

    "Good theory!" Reverend Morris replied.

    "Wesley did visit the site where the Oakwood church now stands. The church
    wasn't built until Victorian times, but he preached out in the open in the
    1770s. The very spot where he stood is marked by a bronze statue of him.
    Anyways, Reverend Morris has decided to ask other members of the clergy for
    help. She's asked me to go along to the church tomorrow. Hopefully two vicars
    are better than one, and we can help John to return to the other side, so to speak."

    "Shouldn't Father Aiden be called along too? Like in

    the Exorcist?"

    Reverend Morris laughed. "I once watched that movie

    with some mates at university. I really regret eating at the time, it put me
    off soup for weeks. Bit different though. That was movie about demonic
    possession, not a haunting."

    Jen

    0 min
  • Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 1
    Jenna, the Vicar s Wife: Part 1
    A sequel to "Jenna Goes to Church"

    A Series in 17 parts, By Blacksheep. Listen to the ►

    Podcast at Steamy
    Stories.



    A sequel to "Jenna Goes to Church. More fun with the

    ever-horny Jenna and the good chaps of St. Michael's church and beyond!

    At the Vicarage Social, Jenna meets an ordained Priest.

    A full year had passed since Jenna Fox had started attending

    St Michael's church. During that time, she'd carried out God's work and in the
    true Christian spirit, brought much happiness to several male members of the
    church, thus helping them to become better Christians. In her new role as a
    vicar's wife, she finds there are still many other men of the church in need of
    guidance,

    Reverend Simon Morris and his wife Jenna were holding their

    annual November social at the vicarage. November always seemed such a
    depressing month, when, after the initial excitement of Guy Fawkes Night,
    nothing much happened. Christmas was still a little too far away, although the
    shops had been selling festive stuff since September. It got earlier every
    year.

    The usual members of St. Michaels church were in attendance,

    Gordon Leesmith the church organist and choirmaster, Josh the curate, Bishop
    George, Yulia et al, plus a few new faces from other churches that Jenna hadn't
    seen before.

    Jenna was wearing a low-cut, black velvet dress and a

    diamond encrusted cross necklace. A couple of times, she caught a tall,
    serious-looking man in the corner of the room staring at her. He quickly averted
    his eyes when she looked at him.

    "Wonder who he is?" The chap was clad in black and

    wearing a clerical collar, so evidently a vicar or priest of some kind. She
    knew most of the clergy at the local churches, but had never seen this guy
    before.

    Gordon was circulating, and on the hunt for a toilet. Beer

    always went straight to his bladder.

    "Great atmosphere Jenna," he said, winking at her.

    "You look lovely by the way."

    "Why thank you," she winked back. "You look

    rather fine yourself. That navy blue suit, Umm. We need more men in suits. Down
    with casual dress I say!" The organist still turned her on, despite her
    offloading him onto Yulia's willing friend Martika. "A shame Martika
    couldn't attend tonight."

    "Yes, she's been struck down with flu. Been in bed all

    week."

    "Aww." They looked at each other. Gordon's face

    bore an expression that was pretty much screaming, "I am unbearably horny
    and really need a fuck right now, I know you're the vicar's wife now but I
    still fancy you like crazy and miss your lips on my cock, "

    "Er is there a downstairs loo here?" He said.

    "There's a queue for the upstairs one and I'm bursting for a pee."

    "Afraid not. Hard to believe in a house this size I

    know. There's always the back garden. Plenty of bushes and it's dark."
    Jenna replied, and tossing him a crumb of hope, added. "I might join you
    out there later."

    Gordon's face lit up. "Okay. Thanks!"

    Jenna scanned the living room. Presently, her husband

    appeared. "Nice to see so many guests. I didn't think so many would turn
    up!"

    "I know, It's great!" Jenna couldn't help but

    notice that there were way more male guests than female ones. "I wonder
    why that is?" She grinned to herself. "By the way, who's that guy in
    the corner over there? He looks like he's at a funeral rather than a vicarage
    social. His face could turn milk sour."

    Reverend Morris looked. "Oh. That's Father Aiden. He's

    a Catholic priest. Only been in this neck of the woods for a few weeks. He's
    taken over at St Gregory's. Prior to that he was based in Liverpool. Huge Irish
    community there of course, and I believe he was born in Dublin."

    "Can't get more stereotypically Irish, can he?"

    The name, the look: Father Aiden had black hair, pale blue eyes and a
    bone-white complexion. His hairstyle struck Jenna as being somewhat old-fashioned,
    with sideburns.

    "He'd be good at playing a vampire. Why's he looking so

    miserable? Is it because he's in a Church of England vicarage?"

    Reverend Morris laughed. "Ha! No, my love. All

    denominations are welcome at this vicarage, we've got the Oakwood Road
    Methodist guys here too and the Living Earth Free Church. From what I've heard,
    Father Aiden is just a very serious man. It's just how he is. He's probably
    enjoying himself, even though he looks miserable."

    "If he's a Catholic priest does that mean, "

    "Oh yes. Vow of celibacy."

    "That's the real reason he's miserable then!"

    Jenna replied.

    "Indeed. Whilst I respect his vows, personally it's

    something I could never adhere to!"

    "Nope. You like pussy too much, Rev."

    "Jenna, shush! You're making me blush!"

    "I'm right though."

    "You know I can never get enough of your pussy,"

    the vicar whispered in her ear. "I must go and mingle, before I get
    another hard-on."

    Jenna sensed the moment was right to get to know the

    mysterious Father Aiden a bit better. The priest was currently being bored to
    death by an elderly woman from St. Michael's who was lamenting the state of
    modern Britain.

    ", And like I keep saying, this country went to the

    dogs long ago. Useless, lying politicians, rising crime, rising cost of living.
    Unbridled filth peddled on every street corner. I imagine, Father, coming from
    a big city like Liverpool, this small town must seem like paradise to you.
    Don't be fooled! County lines are a big problem! And the local park. Would you
    believe it? It's become a dogging hotspot, "

    Father Aiden said nothing and just nodded patiently at her.

    Sensing he needed rescuing, Jenna cut in.

    "Sorry Mrs. Grimes, can I just interrupt and borrow

    Father Aiden for a minute? I need to discuss something."

    "Oh be my guest," the pensioner replied.

    "He's not got a lot to say."

    "Probably because he couldn't get a word in,"

    Jenna muttered under her breath as Mrs. Grimes shuffled off. "Allow me to
    introduce myself. I'm Jenna, Reverend Morris' wife. Nice to meet you, Father
    Aiden." She held out her hand, and he reluctantly shook it.

    "Hello." The priest spoke at last, in a thick

    Irish accent, his dour expression unchanging.

    "You look rather trapped. Too many people here for your

    liking?"

    "A little." Father Aiden replied. He looked

    extremely uncomfortable in Jenna's presence. "I'm still, finding my feet
    around this area."

    "I'm sure you'll settle in just fine, Father. Have you

    tried any of the buffet? My husband's a great cook; he's made some great cakes and,
    "

    "Maybe later. I, I would appreciate a cup of tea if

    possible."

    "Oh no problem. Why don't you take a seat in the snug?

    You'll find it more relaxing in there. Less chatter."

    "Thanks." He skulked off. Jenna took a deep

    breath. "Blimey, what a cold fish. I'd get better conversation out of a
    statue. Still, early days. With a little bit of help, he's bound to open up
    sooner or later." Far from putting her off, Father Aiden's stern exterior
    only served to fascinate Jenna further. And the fact he was a celibate priest,
    .hmm. That couldn't possibly be good for him, could it?

    Moments later, she brought him a cup of tea. "Here you

    go," she said, putting it on the side table by his chair and taking a seat
    opposite him.

    "Thanks, Mrs. Morris."

    "Jenna, please."

    He twitched. "Jenna."

    "I've never met a Catholic priest before," Jenna

    said, and Father Aiden straightened in the chair and braced himself for the
    usual questions he was always asked, usually concerning vows of celibacy. He
    swallowed as he noticed how close Jenna was to him.

    Damn. She looks so much like R is n, but even prettier. I

    can't believe this.

    "Well, we're not that rare," he mumbled, sipping

    his tea.

    "I know very little about the Catholic church,"

    Jenna continued. Nobody in my family is Catholic. Mostly Church of England, and
    a few Methodists, "

    "I'm sure your husband can help you with any questions

    you might have," Father Aiden said, and Jenna wondered if this was his
    polite way of saying "please leave me in peace."

    Pretending to be upset, Jenna stood up. "I, I'm sure

    you're right, Father. I'm sorry for bothering you." She hurried out of the
    snug.

    Alone at last, Father Aiden smacked his forehead. "Why

    does this keep happening to me? Why do I always end up saying the wrong
    thing?"

    "Definitely a lot of issues with that one," Jenna

    smirked to herself. A couple of chips on both shoulders methinks. I'm not
    giving up on the good Father though. Maybe in time, he'll soften a
    little."

    Gordon had successfully relieved himself on the rose bushes

    in the vicarage's back garden. "Ah, that's better. I'm sure those plants
    needed a good watering," he muttered, zipping up his trousers. Hearing the
    back door opening, he spun round.

    "Hi there," Jenna smiled. "It's a bit cold out

    here, Gordon. You'll be getting a chill in your organ pipe."

    "Umm. I was hoping you might be able to warm it

    up."

    Jenna glanced round and took him by the hand. "In that

    case, come with me, "

    In the garage, Gordon's face flushed red with lust as Jenna

    leaned against a car, hiked up her dress and slipped her hand inside her
    drenched black panties. Her aroused smell met his nose and made his stiff cock
    throb more than ever. Already his pre-cum was leaking out. The fact that she
    was now the vicar's wife, was turning him on even more.

    "Oh God, Jenna. You always know what buttons to

    press," Gordon groaned, as she ran her hand down his crotch, cupping his
    bulge.

    "Don't you mean which stops to pull out?" She

    teased, unzipping his trousers. "Your cock is like the Wurlitzer organ in
    Blackpool Tower. It's always rising."

    "Ha-ha. That's why it needs you to play it," he

    chuckled. Jenna ran her hand down the front of his y-fronts. "Ooh, I'm not
    the only one here who's got damp undies!"

    Gordon groaned again. Jenna pulled out his cock and squeezed

    his balls. As she groped his manhood, she realized just how wet with pre-cum it
    was.

    "Nice and sticky, just how I like it." She knelt

    down and teasingly licked the head of his cock before putting it in her mouth.

    "Umm yes!" Gordon hissed as the vicar's wife began

    giving him a good blow. He'd remembered just how brilliantly Jenna was at
    giving blowjobs. Back during that day in church, she'd given him some superb
    head.

    Jenna withdrew and reclined on the bonnet of the car. She

    rubbed her neatly-trimmed bush of pubic hair and Gordon knew what she wanted
    him to do. With just one finger at first, the organist began tracing circles
    around the outside of her wet pussy. Jenna moaned, enjoying the attention, but
    wanting more. Sensing this, Gordon spread her pussy lips with his finger and
    pushed inside her, spreading her walls and began to fuck her with it. Then he
    lowered his head. Very slowly at first, teasing her into a state of desperate
    pleasure, he tongued her, savoring her juices.

    "Oh Gordon!" Jenna screamed. She began moving her

    body in time to his motions, trying to get his tongue to go even deeper. Then
    without warning, Gordon stopped his treatment, as he felt her hand brush
    against the head of his prick. "Slide your organ pipe in," she
    purred, knowing he got such a kick from these corny phrases.

    "With pleasure!"

    Positioning the tip of his dick right up against her wet

    opening, he slid inside her and was soon thrusting with vigor.

    "Umm, more Gordon! Yes!"

    He continued pumping her hard and fast, pulling almost all

    the way out and then slamming his dick all the way back in. He grabbed her hips
    to steady himself, still fucking her rapidly. Then their coupled bodies
    convulsed ferociously, and Gordon's pulsating member filled Jenna's snatch with
    his cum.

    "Here endeth the organ lesson," Jenna said,

    planting a kiss on his lips.

    Gordon kissed her back. "Oh thanks Jenna. I enjoyed

    that immensely."

    "And you really needed that!" She replied,

    adjusting her clothing. "It's not good for an organist to have so much cum
    building up like that, there might be a risk of a ruptured bellows."

    Gordon zipped up his trousers. "Far worse than trapped

    wind!"

    They both laughed. "We'd better get back to the party.

    I'll go first, okay?"

    Jenna headed out of the garage. As she walked round the side

    of the house, she almost walked straight into Father Aiden.

    "Oh!" He recoiled in shock. "Mrs, er,

    Jenna."

    "Father Aiden! You made me jump! Don't tell me you're

    looking for a downstairs toilet too?"

    He blinked. "Um no. I was, er, I wanted to apologies

    for earlier. I was very rude. Whatever must you think of me? You being the
    vicar's wife and all."

    "I'd say you're a chap who's just finding his way in a

    new place," Jenna smiled. Even in the dark, his watery blue eyes seemed to
    be staring right into her soul. "Anyways, apology accepted!" Before
    he could say another word, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Would you
    like another cup of tea, Father?"

    Father Aiden clutched his chest as though he'd glimpsed

    Satan himself. A look of horror on his face.

    "What's the matter?" Jenna said, glancing back at

    him. "My tea isn't that bad is it?"

    The Priest is caught masturbating

    "Holy Spirit, come into my heart and show me my sins. Give

    me a proper spirit of repentance and the grace to make a good confession. Give
    me your peace that I might not be anxious but rather trust in your abundant
    mercies."

    Father Aiden said a prayer to himself. He was anxiously

    sitting in his confessional, awaiting the arrival of any lost sheep who were in
    need of his guidance. Here of all places, he needed to be focused on his job as
    a priest, yet his mind was on other things. Last night, he'd attended a
    gathering at St. Michael's vicarage. He hadn't really wanted to go, as social
    events made him uncomfortable, but had gone along to show willing. It had been
    his first social since he'd left Liverpool.

    It had all been going well until he'd met the vicar's wife,

    Jenna. The woman had shocked him to the core. She reminded him so much of
    R is n, a twentysomething woman whom he'd developed feelings for back in
    Liverpool. He'd come perilously close to breaking his celibacy vows with her,
    they'd kissed passionately a couple of times in the confessional booth, until Father
    Aiden's nerves and guilt finally got the better of him and he'd pushed her
    away. Feeling it best to move on before things developed into something more
    serious, he quit his post and requested to be moved elsewhere. He'd narrowly
    avoided a scandal.

    Father Aiden was thirty-five, and had been a priest for

    eight years now. He recalled his early years, growing up in a small village
    near Dublin. As rigidly as he'd stuck to his celibacy vows since joining the
    priesthood, Father Aiden was no virgin. As an eighteen year old, he'd been an
    altar boy at his local church, and lost his virginity to Sara, a much older
    married woman who was a member of the congregation. They'd enjoyed passionate
    romps in the confessional booths, in the vestry, just about everywhere. Sara
    had a very high sex drive and didn't get any from her dull husband. Then a
    nightmare situation. Sara had fallen pregnant. Aiden's world had been rocked.

    In their strict Catholic community, even the thought of

    getting an abortion was out of the question. Aiden had resigned himself to
    becoming a young dad, but then just as he was starting to like the idea, fate
    intervened and Sara suffered a miscarriage. He didn't think it would have
    affected him so badly, but it did, and he blamed himself. It had been a punishment
    from God. From that day on, Father Aiden made up his mind to become a priest,
    much to the delight of his parents.

    However, much as he tried to bury any sinful urges, Father

    Aiden struggled. After R is n, he hoped he wouldn't be attracted to another
    woman, but now he'd seen Jenna Morris, and been immediately smitten.

    "Dear God, help me not to be so weak in body and mind.

    I must cast out these sinful thoughts."

    He was interrupted by the sound of someone entering the

    confessional.

    "Bless me Father, for I have sinned." A

    middle-aged man said. "It's been a week since my last confession."

    Father Aiden composed himself and did his duty as a priest.

    Jenna grinned as an Amazon delivery van pulled up outside

    the vicarage.

    "Oh good. It's arrived. That was quick."

    Reverend Morris was coming down the stairs as she was

    eagerly opening a parcel.

    "What do you think?" Jenna said, holding up a nun

    costume.

    "Ooh sexy. That'll turn heads at the church hall's

    fancy dress party next month! How very naughty and sinful. Better hope that
    Father Aiden doesn't turn up to that, eh? Might prove a bit too much for him!
    Talking of which, would you mind calling at St. Gregory's and dropping off that
    book he wanted to borrow?"

    "No problem," Jenna replied. She picked up the

    paperback. "The Seeker by S G Maclean. Oh, he's into historical fiction is
    he? Well good to know he has other interests."

    Reverend Morris started laughing. "Heh, I don't know

    how I coped when the curate made that joke to him at the social. I know Josh
    had had way too much to drink but, dear God, I could've died when he started
    going on about Catholic priests lusting after choirboys."

    "What? I must've missed that! It must've been when I

    was f, er, talking to Gordon."

    "Yes. Father Aiden didn't see the funny side at all. I

    don't think Josh will even remember what he said to him. Anyways, I had to
    apologies!"

    Jenna couldn't help but snigger. "By the way, who are

    you going to dress up as for the party?"

    "Haven't decided yet. You once said I looked like

    Prince Edward, perhaps I should dress as up in Royal robes and get a crown?
    Anyways, I must get going. I've got a meeting with Bishop George. What a busy
    week. Christopher's coming round tomorrow."

    "It's be lovely to see him. If the weather's nice, we

    can have a day out somewhere. I know how much he loves dinosaurs, why don't we
    take him to the museum?"

    "Sounds great! Okay, I'll be back around four. Take

    care

    0 min
  • Jacob’s Bed: Part 2
    Jacob's Bed: Part 2
    Bedding Arrangements

    In 2 parts, based on the works of Bobbi R. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.



    Leah looked

    at us both, Rachel still laying astride me. You look amazing together, she
    smiled. That's the first time I've watched two people fucking. It's
    fantastic.

    I loved you

    being here, said her sister. It was like you really love us.

    I do love

    you. Leah turned to me. Are you okay, darling Jake? Did you like that?'

    I gave her a

    kiss. You know I did.

    And you

    know I still love you, don't you?' Leah pressed.

    Yes, I

    said, and I still love you, more than ever.

    Ah, said

    Rachel, you two are totally amazing. I love you both.

    What are you

    waiting for, darling? Leah said to me. Kiss her.

    So with my

    softening cock still buried in her open cunt, I gently turned my head to my
    sister-in-law to me and gave her a long loving kiss.

    Unlike in

    porn movies, we didn't immediately descend into an endless succession of sexual
    positions and have orgasm after orgasm until the end of the day. All three of
    us felt pretty satiated and exhausted. We lay back on the bed, me between the
    two sisters with my arm round each and their heads resting on my shoulders.
    Leah pulled the duvet half over us and within ten minutes we were all asleep.

    I was the

    first to wake up. Rachel lay curled up with her back to me. Leah was lying half
    turned towards me. They were both dead to the world. I lay for a few minutes
    thinking about what had happened. Even then, I could hardly believe it. It
    seemed like a wonderful dream, a mad fantasy. Yet I could still remember the
    feeling of my cock in Rachel's cunt, the eagerness of Leah's lips on mine, her
    excited encouragement as I fucked her much younger sister. It had really
    happened, I kept telling myself.

    It was only

    then that I started to have misgivings. Yes, it had happened; I had fucked my
    wife's sister. What now? Would everything change from now on? Would Leah still
    love me? Would she become jealous? Would it happen again? Rachel was almost 15
    years younger than Leah; would I prefer fucking her to fucking my wife? I
    couldn't see how things would ever be the same again. I couldn't envisage a
    cozy menage a trois; that sort of thing only happened in porn fantasies. Yet
    there they were: two beautiful naked women lying next to me. I loved them both.
    I wanted them both. I wanted what had happened; to happen again. I wanted to
    fuck my wife and I wanted to fuck her sister. I wanted to fuck them both.

    Almost

    perspiring in my state of confusion I lay rigid. I didn't dare wake them up in
    case all they had to say were regrets. I didn't want my dream shattered. In the
    end I crept from the bed, grabbed my bath robe and went into the kitchen. I
    didn't really have anything in mind, but something told me that what was needed
    was a quick dose of normality. What I didn't want was Leah waking up and
    thinking, Oh my god, this has all been a terrible mistake, what have I done?
    I certainly didn't want the kind of conversation that starts with, Darling, we
    have to talk. I didn't want to give her the chance to think and the only way I
    could think of to do that was with a dose of domesticity.

    Half an hour

    later I entered the bedroom carrying a tray of supper. The sisters were still
    dozing, but sat up as soon as I put the tray on the bed.

    What's

    this? smiled Leah.

    Supper, I

    said needlessly. I thought you deserved it.

    Rachel

    giggled. I suppose we need to keep our strength up.

    Definitely,

    agreed Leah.

    They looked

    sexily at me, completely without any expressions of guilt or regret, and I
    allowed myself a small feeling that things might be alright after all.
    Shamelessly they sat with their tits invitingly naked and we dug into our
    supper.

    That night I

    went to bed early. I didn't want to have the conversation with Leah I knew we
    would have to have sooner or later. I was too confused and I didn't have the
    energy. It was a work day the following day, so when Leah came to bed she
    didn't expect any lovemaking. I pretended to be dozing, so all she did was say,
    Goodnight, lover, kiss me and turn over. I lay awake for a long time worrying
    about everything.

    The next

    week passed fairly uneventfully. Whether Leah and Rachel talked over what had
    happened I didn't know, but I suspected they did; didn't they talk about
    everything? But when I was around, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement
    that the subject wouldn't be brought up. Rachel slept in her own room. Leah and
    I fucked a couple of times, as enjoyably and lovingly as ever but almost
    wordlessly. Somehow I got the feeling that she was waiting for me to start the
    conversation. Perhaps this fantasy 3-way was just a passing impulse? She didn't
    give the impression she regretted anything. If possible, she seemed even more
    loving than before. She lost no opportunity to touch and kiss me. It felt as if
    she were trying to reassure me that things were still good between us. Leah s
    respect for me had grown, so had her devotion.

    Rachel, too,

    seemed to go out of her way to be affectionate, touching and kissing me quite
    openly, whether when Leah was around or when we were alone.

    On the

    following Friday evening we were lounging in the living room wondering what to
    do.

    Don't you

    want to go out? I asked Rachel. It's Friday.

    I'd rather

    stay in and drink wine with you guys, she said. If that's okay with you.

    Of course,

    smiled Leah. She got up. I'll open a bottle.

    Later the

    three of us were cozily snuggled together on the sofa, the second bottle half empty
    on the coffee table in front of us. The unwritten rule was clear. I always sat
    between them.

    This is the

    kind of Friday I like, murmured Rachel, resting her head on my shoulder.

    Me too,

    said Leah, giving me a kiss. What about you, darling? How do you like having
    two beautiful women all to yourself?

    Oh, I like

    it, I said carefully.

    After what

    you did for us last weekend, she continued. This is it, I thought. This is the
    conversation I'd been dreading. We thought we should do something for you.

    My mind went

    into overdrive. No recriminations? No regrets? No change of heart?

    Don't look

    so worried, Rachel put in. We're not going to rape you.

    Leah

    laughed. Not unless you want us to.

    She put her hand

    on my thigh and gave me another kiss. I could taste wine. I felt her hand move
    to my cock. Instantly it started to grow.

    That's what

    I like, she smiled. A cock that responds to me.

    That's what

    I like too, said Rachel, her eyes fixed on her sister's hand.

    Touch it,

    invited Leah. You won't mind, will you, Jake darling?'

    Not at

    all, I said, not daring to disagree with anything being suggested.

    I love to

    feel it growing hard under his jeans, Leah said to her sister.

    Rachel put a

    tentative hand on my thigh. Leah took it and placed it where her own had been.

    Can you

    feel it? she asked.

    Oh yes,

    murmured Rachel. It feels really hard already.

    That's

    because he's turned on. Aren't you, darling?'

    Hmm, I

    agreed.

    She started

    to move her sister's hand up and down my erection. Stroke it, she urged. He
    loves to have his cock stroked through his jeans.

    Rachel

    started to stroke my cock. Leah let go of her hand and rested it on my abdomen.
    Don't tense up, darling, she smiled. Just relax and enjoy it.

    If you

    insist, I said. It's difficult relaxing when a beautiful woman is stroking
    your cock, but I tried.

    Rachel

    pressed a little harder and after a while tried to wrap her fingers around my
    shaft. I can't grip it properly, she complained.

    In that

    case, grinned Leah, you'd better take it out. It could probably do with an
    airing. She gave me a long kiss while Rachel fiddled with my belt buckle and
    zip.

    I felt the

    release as my cock was freed from the restraint of my jeans, then Rachel's hand
    finding its way into the gap of my boxers. I let out an involuntary gasp as her
    fingertips touched the flesh of my cock, then her fingers were firmly wrapped
    around it and she was pulling it out into the open air.

    Leah ended

    our kiss and looked down at my lap, where my cock was standing in her sister's
    firm grip. Is that better, darling? she asked me.

    Oh yes, I

    murmured.

    Rachel

    looked at her sister. Show me what you do, she said. I want to learn to
    masturbate him as well as you do.

    Okay, said

    my wife. She took my cock in her hand and, barely touching, stroked it slowly
    up and down. First you start really gently. And vary where you touch it, she
    added. Like this. For a while she concentrated on the shaft, gently
    stretching my skin as her hand went to the base of my cock, then releasing it
    as her hand travelled up again. She gently rubbed her fingertips over my crown
    and under the prepuce. He particularly loves the crown being played with,
    don't you, Jacob?'

    Oh yes, I

    murmured.

    Now you do

    it, urged Leah.

    Rachel took

    my cock in her hand and Leah and I watched as she slowly played with it. She
    seemed fascinated by what she was doing, experimenting with stretching my
    foreskin, then playing her fingertips over my crown and gently opening and
    closing the slit. It feels lovely, she murmured, all hard and silky at the
    same time.

    Leah gave me

    a long kiss as I felt the delicious sensations of Rachel's hand moving over my
    cock. Deep moans came from my throat.

    Leah smiled

    at me. Is she doing it right, Jacob?'

    Oh yes, I

    murmured.

    You can

    grip it a bit harder now, Leah told her sister.

    Like this?

    Rachel's hand gripped my cock more firmly and stroked me steadily from top to
    bottom and back again. I could feel the pleasure start to build.

    Do you want

    Rachel to make you come, Jacob, asked Leah, or do you want to rest for a
    while?'

    What Rachel

    was doing felt great, but I knew it usually took quite a time for me to come
    just from a hand-job. I suspected they both had other things in mind. I'm in
    your hands, I smiled at them. Do whatever you want.

    Okay, said

    Leah. Let go for a bit, she told Rachel. Let it rest. I felt Rachel's hand
    leave my cock as Leah planted another long kiss on my lips. Then she turned my
    face towards Rachel and I felt Rachel's warm soft lips on my mouth. She moaned
    throatily as her tongue sought mine. For a while I was passed between them like
    a shared meal.

    How do you

    like Rachel? asked Leah. Is she a good kisser?'

    It must be

    because you're sisters, I grinned. I find it difficult to differentiate
    between you.

    Leah looked

    down at my cock, still standing hard and proud. Ah, look at it, all lonely
    down there. I think Big Jake wants to be kissed too.

    She bent her

    head and I felt her tongue on my crown. Then her lips closed round it.

    Oh fuck, I

    breathed.

    Rachel

    watched, her lips apart. Show me, Leah, she murmured. I want to learn how to
    suck his cock, too.

    Okay. My

    wife held my cock out for her sister to take. Sit here on the coffee table and
    take him into both of your hands, gently. First, lick it all over. Slowly.

    Rachel

    followed the instructions to the letter. I felt the exquisite sensations of her
    tongue sliding over the crown.

    Don't take

    it in your mouth straightaway. Tease him. It drives him wild. Doesn't it,
    Jacob? She smiled wickedly up at me.

    You should

    know, I said.

    For a time,

    Rachel licked my cock, lingering over the crown and occasionally putting the
    tip of her tongue in the slit.

    Lick under

    the crown, advised Leah. He loves that.

    I felt

    Rachel's tongue under the rim of the crown, a really sensitive spot. It was
    exquisite. I heard myself moan in encouragement.

    Is she

    doing it right, Jacob? Leah asked me. Does it feel good?'

    Oh yes, I

    murmured.

    Stand up,

    Jacob, she said. It'll be easier for Rachel.

    I stood up

    and faced Rachel sitting on the low table in front of me, my cock at exactly
    the same level as her mouth. Leah eased my jeans and boxers down my legs and
    off my fee; then pulled my t-shirt over my head. Very nice, she said
    admiringly.

    Hot,

    agreed Rachel.

    The two

    women were still fully clothed, but it felt oddly arousing to be naked in front
    of them. Rachel leant forward and resumed her licking of my cock.

    You can put

    it in your mouth now, Leah told her, standing beside me caressing my stomach.

    I looked

    down and watched Rachel slide her mouth over my cock. Leah reached round and
    held the base. With her other hand she turned my face to hers and locked my
    mouth in a long passionate kiss. I felt Rachel's mouth moving slowly up and
    down my shaft. I moaned deep in my throat. Leah's tongue thrashed together with
    mine.

    When she

    released me, she murmured. I love holding your cock as you're being sucked
    off, Jacob. It feels very hard.

    I love you

    holding it too, I smiled.

    She smiled

    back. You and Rachel look really hot together, with your cock in her mouth.

    I could

    barely think with the sensations running through my body, so I just said, I
    love you, darling.

    She kissed me.

    I love you too. I love watching you being sucked off by my lovely little
    sister.

    Rachel was

    leaning forward, eagerly taking almost the full length of my cock in her mouth,
    savoring it, then pulling back and swirling her tongue and lips around the crown.
    One hand slipped round to my ass and held me while the other gently cupped and
    caressed my balls. Then Rachel s fingers rubbed under my sack while her thumb
    swirled around my sphincter. It drove me nuts.

     Leah

    continued to hold my cock at the base. I felt hands and lips everywhere. I was
    dying with the exquisite sensations.

    How do you

    like being sucked off by your sister-in-law while your wife watches? Leah
    asked, her eyes bright.

    I love it,

    I moaned.

    Are you

    close to coming?'

    Soon, I

    murmured.

    Let it

    happen, she urged. I want to see you come inside her mouth.

    I had been

    wanting to do just that, but had been worried that Rachel might not have been
    prepared for it. But as soon as Leah spoke, Rachel thrust me deeper into her
    throat, as if wanting me to go ahead. I started to move my hips back and forth.
    My cock slid in and out of Rachel's mouth. I could feel the back of her throat
    at the deepest point, then the play of her tongue as she let it slide almost
    out into the open. At the same time, Leah moved her hand in sync with my
    movements, inasmuch as she could with most of my cock in Rachel's mouth. The
    two movements of hand and mouth were doing wonderful things to my cock. If they
    continued I knew I would soon be coming.

    That feels

    so good, I moaned.

    Rachel took

    me even deeper into her mouth and Leah locked my lips in another long kiss.

    Enjoying

    yourself, Jacob? She breathed when she released my mouth.

    You know I

    am.

    I love to

    see you having pleasure, she murmured. I love you more than anything.

    I love you

    too, I said, half-insensible with exquisite sensations.

    She gave me

    a quick kiss, then moved to sit on the low table beside Rachel. I want to
    watch you come, she said, her eyes gleaming. She put an arm round her sister's
    shoulders and the other around my middle. I felt her hand on my ass cheek,
    gently pushing me forward, encouraging me to put my cock further into Rachel's
    mouth. The sight of her excited face next to her sister eagerly sucking my cock
    was enough to tip me over the edge. I felt my orgasm building.

    I'm

    coming, I warned them.

    Go on,

    urged my wife. Come in Rach's mouth. Let it happen.

    I felt the

    first load climb into my cock and empty itself into Rachel's eager mouth. I
    half expected her to pull back, but instead she took a quick deep nostril
    breath and thrust my cock even deeper. Leah moved her hand from her sister's
    shoulder to under her jaw. I could feel it caressing the end of my cock through
    the skin of Rachel's face. I blasted again.

    Keep

    coming, Jacob, urged Leah. Swallow his come, Rachel, she told her sister.
    He loves it when I swallow.

    Rachel kept

    my cock in her mouth when I jerked a third time. I could feel her tongue
    exploring my slit and around the crown. I thought I might explode from
    sensations that were almost too exquisite to bear. I came again and again into
    her warm mouth. With the encouragement of Leah's hand, Rachel swallowed it all,
    keeping my cock deep in her mouth the whole time. Even as my cock began to
    soften, she still held it between her lips, though allowed more of it to come
    out. Gently she caressed it with her tongue, swallowing hard, to extract the
    last bits of jizz.

    Oh fuck,

    that's so good, I murmured.

    Leah stood

    up and put her arms around me. Happy, darling?'

    I'll tell

    you, I said with a smile, when I've worked out where I am.

    Do you like

    coming in Rach's mouth?'

    Oh yes,' I

    emphasized

    No

    regrets?' Leah pressed.

    No. I was

    too satisfied and too exhausted to think of anything much.

    I don't

    have any regrets either. Leah assured me.

    That's a

    relief, I said, kissing her. I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't been here.
    It was such a turn-on having you beside me. You liked it too, didn't you?' I
    pleaded.

    She kissed me

    long and hard. Of course I did. You know I love watching you come. I just love
    giving you pleasure and I knew you'd enjoy Rachel sucking you off. She smiled
    down at Rachel, who was slowly releasing my softening cock from her mouth, then
    nudged me gently. You should kiss her, Jacob, and say thank you.

    I sank down

    on the sofa and took Rachel's beautiful face in my hands. Thank you. That was
    amazing.

    Did I do it

    right? she asked. Did it feel good?'

    For answer I

    kissed her sweet lips. I caught the faint taste of my salty jizz. Of course
    you did it right. You could raise a man from the dead.

    Did you

    like it when I swallowed your come?' Rachel was beaming.

    Of course.

    How did you like the taste?'

    She made a face.

    I don't know. It all happened so quickly, I didn't have time to think about
    it. She smiled. I loved the feeling of your cock when you were coming though.
    It jerked all over the place, like you were having spasms or something.

    I like that

    too, said Leah, sitting beside me. He felt entranced & helpless, didn't
    he? It's a real turn-on knowing you're doing that to him.

    They both

    laughed and nudged me playfully.

    Torturers,

    I said. I'm nothing but your plaything.

    Rachel gave

    me a long kiss. Play, she laughed. Just what I like.

    Leah turned

    my face to her and gave me a longer kiss, pushing me way back on the sofa. I
    was naked and half sitting, half lying between my two beautiful women. I was
    exhausted but happy. My cock lay limply against my thigh. Leah regarded it with
    amusement.

    It looks

    like the batteries are flat.

    When we had

    finished the second bottle of wine I felt a bit more lively. I offered to do to
    the girls what Rachel had done for me. You can't go to bed without orgasms.

    Leah shook

    her head. Save your strength. You're going to be busy this weekend. She
    winked at Rachel and they both burst into laughter. But you can watch us
    masturbate if you like.

    That sounded

    a treat. Okay, if you're sure. I said in a puzzled tone.

    She pointed

    to the chair opposite the sofa. Sit over there, then you'll be able to see
    everything.

    Despite my

    tiredness, my cock gave a little stir. I pictured some lesbian passion. Are
    you going to put on a show for me?

    Leah shook

    her head. Not the kind of show you imagine, she laughed. We're sisters.
    We're not into each other that way. Sorry to disappoint you, but it'll be solo
    action only.

    I wasn't

    disappointed. I'm very happy with that, I smiled. You know how much I love
    to see you bring yourself off.

    Rachel

    pushed her jeans down to her feet and off. And now you'll be able to see me
    too, she smiled wickedly.

    They

    slouched back on the sofa, facing me, with their feet up on the edge of the
    coffee table. Rachel kept her knickers on at first, and played with her nipples
    only through the cotton of her top. Even so, I could see she had beautiful
    tits, firm and sensual. More uninhibited than her sister, Leah immediately
    stripped off completely and spread her legs. I'm so horny, she explained, I
    could come any minute.

    One of

    Rachel's hands caressed a tit while the other started fingering her
    cotton-covered cunt. Gradual

    0 min
  • Jacob's Bed: Part 1
     Jacob's Bed: Part 1
    Jake s sister-in-law moves
    in.

    In 2 parts,

    based on the work of Bobbi R. Listen to the ► Podcast
    at Steamy Stories.



    My wife is a

    wonderful woman. We married when I was thirty-six and she was thirty-five. We'd
    both been through first marriages that had gone sour and I knew almost from the
    moment I met her that this one was going to be for the rest my life. My first
    marriage had been a disaster: I wanted kids but she didn't; I was a romantic,
    she was more hard-headed; yet she was the one who went into fits of jealousy
    every time I so much as talked to another woman. The sex wasn't that great
    either. It couldn't last and we divorced after only five years.

    Leah, on the

    other hand, was everything any man could want. But I won't go into details.
    There's nothing more boring than listening to a man listing his wife's virtues.
    Let's just say we laughed a lot. Oh, and the sex was amazing. Even after we'd
    been married a couple of years, we were still at it like rabbits, fucking at
    every opportunity. Even at the cinema, we'd be unable to keep our hands to ourselves.
    Halfway through the previews, I'd feel Leah's hand drifting to my crotch and
    I'd slip my hand beneath her coat and try to get under her skirt without being
    seen. If our row was empty we'd sometimes manage to bring each other off. Even
    then, we'd rush home and dive into our bed to fuck for a couple of hours. She
    could keep me hard even after I'd come and she seemed to be permanently on
    heat. For those first couple of years we were pretty inventive too. Leah wanted
    to try out all the positions in the book; and a few that weren't. Sometimes
    we'd end up giggling like a couple of schoolkids, but then lust would take over
    and soon we'd be fucking like crazy again.

    Eventually,

    though, that phase passed and we settled into just doing what we liked instead
    of trying to rewrite the Kama Sutra every day. Leah particularly liked me to
    take her from behind, which always guaranteed an orgasm for her. That position
    was pretty good for me too, especially when she wanted me to fuck her in the
    ass, which she did on occasion. I never pushed her, but she knew I liked it. We
    never settled into a routine, but we certainly slowed down a bit. We both
    wanted to have kids, but we agreed we'd enjoy two or three years on our own
    first.

    It didn't

    quite work out that way, though, because after only a couple of years, her
    sister Rachel moved in. Rachel was 22 and had just finished college. She was a
    lot younger than Leah, almost a mistake by their parents, who hadn't really
    planned on extending their family in their 40s. But when she arrived they were
    delighted, with the result she was spoilt rotten. It was amazing she turned out
    as level-headed as she did. Perhaps it was because she had such a good role
    model in her older sister, who she regarded almost as a third parent.
    Especially for the past 10 years, Leah was someone Rachel shared all her
    secrets with. Especially for the dating and romance advice. Rachel asked Leah
    all kinds of questions, and soon the two knew everything about each other.

    Rachel s

    college years ended with a crushing breakup. She d given herself completely to
    a 3rd guy, who ended up dumping her right after commencement, then flew off to
    take an internship in Dubai.

    Leah and I

    helped her move into our spare room and pretty soon we got used to having her
    around. She got a job at a local coffee shop and contributed what she could to
    the housekeeping. Leah and I had good jobs, so we didn't push her. She had her
    own circle of friends; no permanent boyfriend though; and divided her time
    between them and us, even though we were both nearly forty by then. She didn't
    seem to mind going out with us; she liked the same sort of films we did and
    enjoyed going out for meals, so long as we paid. What I'm trying to say is that
    we liked having her around. It was fun having a young person in the house. For
    one thing, it didn't make us feel so old.

    I know what

    you're thinking, though. Didn't it cramp our sex life? The short answer is no.
    We carried on pretty much as before. Okay, we were a bit more careful when and
    where we fucked. We made sure we knew Rachel was going to be out for at least
    an hour before we fucked on the kitchen table, but we certainly didn't wait for
    her to be out of the house every time we wanted sex. If she was in her room and
    we fancied getting it on in front of the TV, we just closed the door. Rachel
    knew what we were doing, but she was polite enough not to burst in on us. We
    didn't kid ourselves she didn't know when we were fucking. Leah made enough
    noise; Rachel would have had to be deaf not to hear her.

    It wasn't

    like it was discussed either; well, not at first. We didn't ask her permission,
    like, Rachel, we're just going for a fuck. Is that okay with you? She was
    mature enough to know that two people in love have sex. She was no virgin,
    which we knew because she'd told Leah. Between the two girls her sex life
    wasn't a secret. Sometimes I'd come into a room and they'd be giggling over
    something together. Often the object of their mirth would be some poor guy
    Rachel had been to bed with.

    I swear he

    thought foreplay was something to do with golf, Rachel said once.

    Leah said,

    Poor you, and they both laughed.

    You two

    must have amazing sex, said Rachel, glancing at me.

    Why do you

    say that? asked Leah.

    Come on,

    laughed her sister. I can hear you all over the house.

    Sorry, I

    said. We'll try and turn down the volume.

    Rachel

    wouldn't have that. Don't on my account. It's great knowing you're still
    fucking. I feel quite jealous.

    That night

    when we were in our huge high-framed canopy bed, Leah wanted to fuck face-to-face.
    I want to watch your face when you're inside me, she said.

    Okay, I

    said. I love watching Leah s ass twerk as she rides my cock. Our solid
    wood-frame canopy has inlaid mirrors, which sort of let us watch a porno of
    each other, while we fuck each other.

    After she

    played with my cock for a while, and her cunt was slipping down onto my turgid
    shaft, we lay face to face and she looked me in the eye.

    Well? I

    smiled. What do you see?'

    A guy who's

    got his cock just where he wants it to be, she laughed.

    Right, I

    agreed.

    Does it

    feel good? she asked.

    You bet. I

    grinned.

    What do you

    see? Leah asked as she saw my gaze diverted to the mirrored canopy.

    An awesome

    sexy ass twerking on my cock!

    So what are

    you thinking about? she smiled.

    Isn't it

    obvious?' I said.

    Tell me

    anyway. She insisted

    You, of

    course, I said, and the feeling of your cunt round my cock.

    Liar.

    You're thinking of Rachel.

    It was such

    a preposterous idea, I actually laughed. That is so untrue, it doesn't even deserve
    an answer.

    She smiled a

    superior kind of smile. I can see it in your eyes.

    What, you

    can see little pictures of her in my eyeballs?'

    Almost.

    She laughed. Don't be scared of admitting it. I'd be surprised if you weren't
    thinking of her. She's beautiful.

    She gave my

    cock a squeeze with her vaginal muscles and a jolt of pleasure ran through me.

      I

    can't think of anything when you do that. I chuckled.

    Don't

    change the subject, she said. I just want you to tell me the truth. Go on, admit
    you find her attractive.

    Okay, she's

    attractive, I agreed. But that doesn't mean I'm thinking of her when I'm
    fucking you.

    No, but you

    are, she insisted. You're thinking of her firm young tits and imagining what
    her cunt feels like.

    Even though

    she was smiling, I still thought it better to keep denying it. Jealousy had
    been one of the reasons my first marriage had broken up and I wasn't about to
    let the same thing happen with us.

    I am not,

    I said, as simply and straightforwardly as I could. The trouble is, she was
    almost right. True, I hadn't been thinking of Rachel when we'd first started
    fucking, but after Leah had brought her into the conversation, I couldn't get
    the sight of her out of my head.

    She's got a

    fantastic figure, hasn't she? She was teasing, I knew, and finding my
    discomfort highly amusing.

    I said

    nothing. But the thought ran through my head that she must have guessed
    something about what I was thinking from the fact my cock was still as hard as
    a rock. You sure seem to want me to start fantasizing about Rachel, don t
    you?

    Don't look

    so worried, darling, she said, taking my face in her hands and giving me a
    long passionate kiss. I'm not saying you'd rather be fucking her instead of
    me. I know you love me and love fucking me. But I've seen how you look at her
    and I know you fancy her.

    I started to

    protest but she stopped me with another kiss.

    No, don't

    deny it. You know I hate people lying. I mean it when I say I don't mind. I
    really don't. I know you find me beautiful too.

    I do, I

    said quickly. You know I do. For good measure I accompanied my words with a
    couple of slow thrusts of my cock.

    Oh, that

    feels lovely, darling, she said, closing her eyes for a moment. But don't
    make me come yet. I want us to fuck for a long time.

    Okay by

    me, I said.

    So it

    really is alright that you fancy Rachel. she repeated. I'm not jealous of
    her. She's my sister and I love her. I feel; I don't know; somehow proud of the
    fact I've got a sister who is beautiful and who my husband fancies. Does that
    make sense?'

    If you say

    so, I said.

    So just

    admit you're thinking of her, she smiled.

    I looked

    hard at her and she looked back at me, half serious, half amused. I could only
    see honesty reflected back at me. And then we can fuck? I asked.

    Then we can

    fuck, she said.

    And you

    really don't mind if I fancy her?'

    I really

    don't mind.

    In fact,

    you'd quite like it if I did?' I implored some more

    Yes, she

    said. I'd like it.

    Okay, I

    said. I fancy her.

    And you're thinking

    of her, she insisted.

    Well, it's

    a bit difficult not to be thinking of her, I laughed, after you insisted that
    we talked so much about her. But I don't wish I was fucking her instead of
    you.

    I know,

    she said. Now you can fuck me. And you can think of her as much as you like,
    so long as you keep that cock good and hard and give me a good orgasm.

    So I fucked

    her for a long time. And after a while I turned her over and she went on her
    hands and knees and I fucked her from behind and I thought of my cock buried in
    her cunt and I thought of my cock buried in her sister's cunt and somehow it
    made my thrusts more urgent or powerful or something and then Leah was moaning
    and crying out and coming and then I was coming into her warm delicious cunt and
    it was a really lovely loving fuck and we ended up hugging and saying how much
    we loved each other and kissing a lot until we fell asleep.

    The next

    morning I went down to the kitchen and found Rachel eating a piece of toast.
    She grinned at me. Hello, stud.

    Then she

    flung her arms round me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.

    What was

    that for? I asked, a bit stunned.

    I love you,

    brother-in-law, she said.

    Er, yeah?'

    For making

    my sister so happy, she added by way of explanation. I've never seen her like
    this. She looks like the cat that got the cream; every minute of every day.
    You're obviously a really special guy. I have close to 10 years of multiple
    failed relationships, and my sister won the love lottery.

    Thanks, I

    muttered, not really knowing how to reply. I try.

    I love

    being around you two. You make the world seem a better place.

    That's a

    lot to live up to, I said. Could it be just that we love each other?'

    It's not

    just that. It's that you're so; into each other. The way you look at each
    other, it's like you're always wanting to fuck each other's brains out.

    That

    obvious, huh? I said. I could feel myself blushing a bit.

    Don't be

    embarrassed. I like it. It's hot. Listening to Leah come last night I brought
    myself off twice.

    Oh dear, I

    said, blushing a bit deeper. I hope you didn't hear what we were talking
    about.

    I didn't

    have a glass pressed to the wall, she laughed, if that's what you're worried
    about. She looked at her watch and headed for the door. But don't worry, she
    added with a mischievous grin, Leah tells me everything. Then she was gone.

    So did you

    tell her? I asked Leah a couple of nights later.

    Did I tell

    who what? she asked, looking up from where she was licking my cock.

    Did you

    tell Rachel what we were talking about the other night? You know, about her and
    you and me?'

    Of course,

    she said, I tell her everything.

    Oh great,

    I said. So now she thinks I fancy her.

    Not more

    than you fancy me, I hope, she said, pretending to be cross.

    Of course

    not, I said quickly. But that's bad enough.

    Don't be

    silly, she said, giving my cock a long kiss. She was flattered. She said it
    was exciting to be fancied.

    I'm not

    sure I'll be able to look at her again.

    Why not? It

    does wonders for her self-confidence knowing an older man thinks she's hot.

    I never

    said she's hot.

    Look,

    Jacob, she may act all mature and worldly-wise, but like all young girls, she
    worries about her looks, her personality, how she appears to other people, men
    especially. She's still finding herself. And I think; and she agrees; that
    being around us; you especially; is giving her confidence, helping her to grow
    up and be herself.

    Like

    parents? I suggested, though I didn't like the sound of that.

    No, not

    authority figures, she said. More like close friends. The closest friends you
    can imagine. People you trust absolutely. People you'd die for. People who are
    always there for you. That's how she sees us. And that's how I see her. And how
    I hope you do too.

    I try, I

    said. But you've been there her whole life. I'm pretty late on the scene.

    Don't do

    yourself down, she said, playfully hitting me. She already worships you.

    How do you

    know?

    Because

    she's told me.

    That night

    it was my turn to make some noise, as I cried out when I came in her mouth. I
    offered to eat her, but she said she wanted to make herself come for a change,
    so I just held her and kissed her while she masturbated. She looked lovely when
    she came. I tried not to think of how Rachel might look when she masturbated.

    Over the

    next few days and weeks I gradually got used to the idea of Rachel knowing that
    I fancied her. I got used to the knowing grins and winks from her; and from
    Leah; and the unexpected hugs and kisses. And if I expected any complaints from
    Leah that her sister was getting a bit too friendly, they never came. On the
    contrary she seemed to love how well we were all getting on. Often we'd all
    three end up in a kind of group hug, laughing like drains and swearing how much
    we loved each other.

    By this time

    Rachel had a sort-of boyfriend, though they didn't seem to behave much like a
    couple. They always went out in a crowd and he never came round to the house.
    Then one day I came home from work to find Leah and Rachel sitting on the sofa,
    Rachel in tears and in her sister's arms.

    The

    boyfriend broke up with her, said Leah.

    Idiot, I

    said. Obviously he has no taste in women.

    Thank you,

    sniffed Rachel.

    Make us a

    pot of tea, please, Jacob, said Leah.

    So we sat

    and drank tea and gradually Rachel stopped crying. Then I suggested we all go
    down the local pub and have a couple of beers.

    And we can

    criticize all the useless men we've known, said Leah.

    And I'll

    praise the two wonderful women, I said. Which was a bit cheesy, but it made
    them laugh, so that was alright.

    We got a bit

    drunk and Rachel had one or two wobbly moments, but mostly we just laughed a
    lot. At home Rachel hugged and kissed us both and announced she was going to
    bed. Try not to make too much noise, you two, she added with a sad smile.
    You'll only make me jealous.

    For the next

    two or three weeks Rachel was a bit subdued around the house. She didn't go out
    much and when we asked her why, she said, That lot bore me. They're so
    immature. I'd rather be with you two.

    Though that

    was fine by me; what man wouldn't like having two sexy women to come home to?
    it seemed to worry Leah a little.

    I think

    Rachel is missing something, she said one night when I was kissing her cunt.

    I looked up.

    Like what?'

    Well, this

    for a start, she said.

    Well, I

    began, but couldn't think of anything to say.

    You know

    she masturbates practically every night to make her go to sleep.

    Does she?

    The image of Rachel playing furiously with her cunt immediately put another inch
    on my cock.

    It's not

    healthy. She needs a good fucking.

    Well, she's

    beautiful and sexy, I said. Men must be queuing up.

    They

    probably are, she agreed. The problem is, since that idiot ditched her, she's
    not interested.

    Can't you persuade

    her not all men are like him?'

    I've

    tried, she said with a smile. The trouble is the only example I can think of
    is you.

    That is a

    problem, I agreed, given I'm in love with you. I bent to her cunt and gently
    put my lips to her clit.

    Oh yes,

    she sighed.

    After a

    while she started moaning in the way she always did to tell me I was in the
    right spot. Her lips were swollen and slippery. She tasted delicious. Then she
    said, Maybe you should fuck her.

    At first I

    didn't think I could have heard her right. After all, I had my head between her
    thighs. What?'

    You know

    exactly what to do to make a woman feel good about herself, she said. Her face
    had the dreamy expression it wore when she knew she was going to come; maybe in
    a few minutes, maybe in half an hour, but definitely.

    Maybe you

    should fuck her. Leah smiled.

    No, I said

    firmly. Don't even joke about it.

    Don't

    talk, she said. Go back to what you were doing.

    Dutifully I

    returned to her cunt. After a minute she was softly moaning again. I tried to
    put her suggestion out of my mind. She was joking. She was just aroused from my
    sucking her clit. She was letting her cunt do the talking. She didn't really
    mean it. Somehow the thought of me fucking her sister turned her on.

    Imagine how

    she'd feel if you were doing this to her, she murmured. She'd love you
    forever.

    Maybe she

    would, I thought, and maybe she wouldn't. What's certain is that I was married
    to Leah and I loved her and I wasn't about to jeopardize that by fucking her
    sister. Even if it was at her suggestion.

    Of course,

    once the idea was in my head I couldn't get it out. Even as I was sucking Leah
    to a thundering orgasm, I imagined it was Rachel's young cunt I was sucking,
    even though I'd never seen it. The picture made me more energetic than usual.
    It must have had an effect on Leah, because she made enough noise to wake the
    dead.

    Afterwards,

    when we were falling asleep in each other's arms, she murmured. That was
    amazing, Jacob. I wish Rachel could experience it too.

    For some

    days after, Leah said nothing more about it. And gradually my imagination
    stopped working overtime. I stopped thinking about Rachel naked and in my arms
    and my cock in her cunt;  Fortunately Leah was still as horny as usual,
    perhaps even more than usual, so I was still getting plenty of great sex. I
    assumed poor Rachel was still masturbating herself to sleep. But what could I
    do about that?

    Sunday

    morning came and Leah and I lay half-asleep under the duvet and tried to think
    of a reason to get up. There came a soft knock on the door.

    Are you

    decent? Rachel called from the hallway.

    Leah

    stirred. Just about.

    Rachel poked

    her head round the door. Either of you guys want a cup of tea?'

    It's only half

    past eight, muttered Leah. It's too early for tea.

    Rachel stood

    in a t-shirt that barely covered her ass. Sorry, I didn't realize.

    Don't stand

    there shivering. Get in. And because my side of the bed was nearest to the
    door, Leah held back my side of the duvet. I quickly put my hand on it to stop
    her revealing the fact I was naked.

    Thanks,

    grinned Rachel. It is a bit chilly.

    She climbed

    in and, although our bed was huge and had plenty of room for three, I edged
    closer to Leah.

    Don't hog

    the bed, Jacob, Leah complained.

    Sorry,

    said Rachel. Am I crowding you guys?'

    Of course

    not, grinned Leah. He's worried

    0 min
  • Wonder Woman Has Needs
    Wonder Woman Has Needs
    Jason had no idea how much she
    admired him.

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



    Jason Trevor was laying in bed, unable to sleep. It was the

    middle of the night. How could he sleep after what happened that
    afternoon? He never imagined she was real, until she rescued him. And what
    a rescue it was!

    He remembered every detail. Jason was returning to his car after
    a workout at the gym. He was comfortable in a small pair of nylon red jogging
    shorts and a yellow tank top that showed off his muscular frame. He was an
    impressive young man and had the eye of many young women especially in those sensational
    shorts.

    He had no sooner gotten to his car when a small gang of four
    troublemakers circled him, from out of nowhere. One of them held a black tire
    iron.

         Hey, fitness boy, the main guy with
    half-grown-in beard said, give us the watch. Jason s Rolex. A gift from his
    father many years ago.

        Jason straightened himself up, ready for a
    fight. No way, he said.

        They closed in all at ounce. Jason punched
    two of them, knocking them backward, but the third came in a struck him hard
    and there was nothing he could do. A forth guy wrestled the watch off him and
    took off with it. And that s when she arrived. Wonder Woman!

        She leaped from what seemed like midair,
    dropping from the sky. She landed and planted fists on her hips. In broad daylight,
    her tight satin suit gleamed, accentuating her super body. Her hair was curled
    beautifully around her face, her stare hard and confident.

        None of them could believe what they were
    seeing! There she was in her tight blue satin shorts with stars and the red
    bustier with the eagle. Her legs were shiny and tan, her shoulders and arms a
    bronze color. Her bracelets, belt and Tiara gleamed gold and her lasso was
    attached snugly on her shiny hip.

         If you don t want trouble, I recommend you
    leave now, Wonder Woman said.

    Two of the goons rushed in to grab her. She stopped them dead in
    their tracks, and they were immediately startled at her surprising strength.
    She held them back easily. They strained and strained to get their hands on
    her, but they were no match. Her hips flexed with strength, her satin shorts
    tightening, shining in the sun.

        Wonder Woman whirled around and snatched one
    of them by his shirt collar and belt. A moment later she lifted and threw him
    through the air! He sailed what seemed like twenty feet high, over several
    cars, coming back down and crashing into an open dumpster! With only one hand
    she took the other guy and did the same! He tumbled through the air and rolled
    across the hood of a car. They were disoriented and rolled around on the ground
    in pain.

        Jason watched all of this, in shock and awe.
    Wonder Woman was more beautiful in person than he ever imagined and her power
    was hard to believe!

        The leader of the goon squad was holding a
    black tire iron. He swung it at her. Wonder Woman snatched his hand and
    squeezed. He felt the enormous pressure of her grip and he could no longer hold
    the iron securely. She snatched the bar from his hand.

        Wonder Woman lifted the tire iron and held it
    parallel with the ground in front of her chest. She took a deep breath, the red
    satin and gold eagle expanding as she did.

        The iron was curling in her grip. She had
    complete control over it. A moment later, the creak grew into a howling and
    terrible cry as she applied even greater strength!

        As Jason watched her bend the bar, he grew an
    erection in record time. The front of his jogging shorts sprouting a long,
    shiny tent.

    Wonder Woman finished off the steel, the bar now a deep U
    shape, the ends facing each other! She flung it on the ground away from her
    where it clanged loudly! The leader of the gang, freaked out and took off
    running like a wild animal. Wonder Woman hurried to Jason and touched his
    shoulder lightly.

    Are you hurt? Are you all right? She asked.

    Jason said, Wonder Woman! Is it really you?

    She smiled and said, Yes, it s really me. Jason, are you all
    right?

    Jason said, How; how did you know my name?

    Wonder Woman said, You re father was a very close friend. Is it
    any surprise I would know the name of his only son?

    Jason said, Of course. Dad talked about you a lot. But I had
    doubts about how accurate the stories were.  I just never imagined; all
    the stories.

    Jason stared at her, locking eyes with her. His hazel eyes were
    piercing and he had a playful lock of dark hair that fell just above his left
    eyebrow. Like Superman.

    Wonder Woman smiled and said, You re father was a very good and
    loyal friend. Jason was oblivious of some aspects of his father s life. 
    But Wonder Woman knew more about Jason than she was prepared to reveal, for
    now.

    Jason said, Oh, Wonder Woman, you are the most beautiful woman
    in the world. No one compares to you. Just looking at your photos, I always
    thought that.

    Wonder Woman glanced down, seeing Jason s obvious erection in
    the front of those sexy shorts. She did her best to pretend she hadn t seen and
    said, Go get checked out at the hospital. Then go home and rest.

    Jason said, But; but will I see you again?

    Wonder Woman said, Don t worry, I won t be far away.

    After that she ran off, her blue satin shorts and stars gleamed
    brightly as she ran, and Jason could not stop watching her. When she was gone,
    he looked down at himself, at his throbbing boner barely staying in the
    confines of his small, nylon jogging shorts. He jumped into his car and hurried
    home. The whole ride he stayed fully erect, his cock throbbing, desperate for
    release. He kept thinking about her, about her feats of strength.

    When he got home he ran to the restroom and peeled his shorts
    down. He was harder than ever. He lotioned up his boner and grabbed hold.
    Remembering her body, that satin suit and her awesome feat of strength!

    Oh, Jason cried out, sliding his hand up and down his rigid
    shaft, pumping so hard.

    The thought of her bending that bar!

    Uh! He experienced a sudden release, a hard rope of cum
    exploding from him, splashing against the side of his shower wall where he
    stood. Even after this explosive release he remained as hard as iron for nearly
    twenty minutes.

    A sleepless night.

    Jason, now in bed at midnight, remembering all this whispered,
    I d give anything to see you again, Wonder Woman.

    He reached down, feeling his cock, already semi erect. He
    wrapped his fingers around his phallus and began to pull.

    Um; oh, Wonder Woman!

    He was about to strip his briefs off, when from the darken
    doorway, a soothing, female voice said, Don t be alarmed. You re in no
    danger.

    Jason looked up from his bed, seeing a shape in his room. A
    human shape in the dark! He snapped on the switch to the underbed light and the
    room had a soft glow from under the bed. And to his astonishment, there she
    was. Standing just a few feet from the foot of his bed.

    Hello, Jason.

    Jason said, Wonder Woman? I must still be dreaming.

    Wonder Woman said, You re not dreaming, Jason. I m real. As
    real as you.

    Jason climbed out of bed, not realizing he was only in his
    skimpy briefs. Wonder Woman took note of his build: sharp, angular muscles that
    only a young man who cared about his health and appearance would have. He
    obviously spent time in the sun, his skin a wonderful bronze color.

    The briefs left not much to the imagination. His cock, though
    not fully erect, created a tension against the front of those tiny briefs.

    Jason stepped around the front of his bed, standing just a few
    feet from her. He reached over and grabbed one of the thick brass bedposts
    rising from the footboard of his king size bed. He devoured her with his eyes,
    stunned at her body and how tight her satin suit was wrapped on her. Her chest
    was a marvel, the red satin bustier pressing her tits up just the slightest,
    and the gold eagle on her chest was majestic, the wings of it enlarged from the
    size of her luscious tits.

    Wonder Woman said, I came to return this.

    She opened her right hand, revealing his watch!

    Jason said, Oh; you recovered it!

    She handed it to him and he examined it closely. No damage
    whatsoever!

    Wonder Woman said, You ll be glad to know all four of your
    attackers were captured. I saw to it myself.

    Thank you, Wonder Woman! Thank you!

    You re very welcome. She smiled. And now, if you don t mind,
    I was hoping to ask you a few questions. About this afternoon.

    Jason said, I can t stop thinking about it. About what you did;
    how did you know I was in trouble?

    Wonder Woman said, Well, let s just say I have a keen interest
    in protecting the Trevor family.

    Jason said, Were you and my father ever a thing?

    Wonder Woman said, No. Your father was interested in someone
    else.

    Jason nodded and said, I suppose. Otherwise I wouldn t be
    here.

    Wonder Woman said, And I m very glad that you are here, Jason

    Jason blushed.

    She no longer had her superhero persona, like she had this
    afternoon. She nervously said; Jason, I have some questions for you. Direct
    questions that would require direct answers.

    Jason said, Shoot.

    Are you in love with me? She asked, her voice quivering.

    Jason blushed and said I, um; I mean; I.

    Wonder Woman removed her golden lasso, unsnapping it from her belt.
    She uncoiled it and slid it around Jason, tightening it.

    Jason said, Wait, what are you?

    Jason felt warmth flush through his body, and indeed he was
    compelled to tell the truth, no matter how personal or embarrassing it might
    be.

    Wonder Woman held the lasso with her right hand and said, Now,
    Jason, the truth; looking at me right now, are you in love with me?

    Jason struggled to keep it to himself, but he couldn t. The
    golden lasso was compelling him to say it out loud.

    Jason said, Yes, Wonder Woman. I m in love with you. Deeply
    so.

    The goddess then asked, What do you want more than anything?

    Jason said, I; I want to make love to you, Wonder Woman. I want
    to run my hands over your satin tights, around your incredible ass, those
    stars. I want to feel your impossible tits; take one in my mouth and roll my
    tongue over your nipple.

    She was just listening, those beautiful blue eyes intense, those
    high arched eyebrows lifted slightly. Curious.

    Then she asked; Tell me, Jason, what is it about me that you
    find so; so irresistible?

    Jason said, Your beauty. You are the most beautiful woman in
    the world. Your body, pulled so tightly into that satin suit. Those blue
    shorts, cut so high in those V shapes right next to your;

    She was glad Jason was so bashful, My what, Jason. Would you
    dare to say it?

    Jason said, Oh, Wonder Woman, your; your; I cannot imagine
    how incredible it is.

    She paced a bit, her full hips swaying, the gleam of satin on
    her shorts dancing from one side to the other. Those super long, perpetually
    tan legs flexing with muscle beneath.

    Wonder Woman said, Jason, when I rescued you earlier from your
    attackers, you had a spectacular erection. At the time I chose not to draw
    attention to it, so as to not embarrass you. Besides, at the time I was all
    business, defending justice. But there was no hiding it, especially not in
    those dolphin jogging shorts you were wearing today. You were very obviously,
    seriously aroused. Why?

    Jason said, Watching you use your super strength. A woman as
    beautiful as you, in that satin suit, with the strength of a hundred men. When
    you were bending that bar with your bare hands; I responded instantly. I
    thought I was going to blow some cum, right then and there.

    Wonder Woman looked down, and saw Jason s now obvious arousal.
    His form fitting white spandex skimpy underwear were barely holding in his
    throbbing erection. The threads themselves were pushed out into a long tent.
    She'd have to guess it's six inches long, and the shape of the head of his cock
    was visible, even the details of it. It was large on top, it s shape well
    defined. No doubt it would provide a woman with more than ample stimulation and
    release.

    Wonder Woman took a long look at it, contemplating its size and appreciating
    its nearly perfect shape. Slowly she released Jason from the lasso & began
    to coil the golden lasso back into tight loops and then she snapped it against
    her golden belt.

    She turned slowly, her perfect ass coming into view. She walked
    slowly away several steps, those hourglass hips swinging left and right, the
    satin hugging her ass, so tight and shiny, the constellation of stars gleaming.
    And just below were those legs, those endless tan legs; she knew what this was
    doing to him. She knew all too well.

    Wonder Woman turned back toward Jason and said, Suppose, Mr.
    Trevor, just suppose I were to indulge your strongest desire. Here. Tonight.
    What then?

    Jason said, I would never forget. I would dream about it the
    rest of my life. It would be more valuable than any amount of money; the memory
    of you, Wonder Woman.

    Wonder Woman smiled, her red, wet lips parting and those
    stunning white teeth showing.

    Wonder Woman said, . Also, can you call me Diana? It fits
    better when friends use first names instead of titles.

    Diana, Jason said with hesitancy.

    But just when we re alone. And never refer to me as Diana, to
    anyone else, Okay?

    Sure! Jason assured her.

    Jason, I m going to give you what you want. Tonight. I m going
    to stay with you until dawn. That s six hours. Do you think you re up to it?

    The implications of what she said crashed down on Jason all at
    once. It was overwhelming and hard to comprehend.

    Jason stammered, I; I don t know what to say.

    Diana said, Don t say anything, Jason. Just make love to me.
    Make me feel loved. Make me cum. Help me not to forget this night either. It s
    not all about you anymore. Do you understand? I have needs, too.

    Jason nodded and smiled, that adorable lock of curly hair
    hanging over his bright hazel eyes.

    Diana said, Very well. Now, before we can start, I need to;
    change into something more appropriate. Now, I want you to stand back, and
    close your eyes. You should also plug your ears.

    Jason said, Why? What s going to happen?

    There was an explosion of blue light and a deafening clap of
    thunder! Jason s eyes were shut, but even so he could see an intense brightness
    through his eyelids. Despite having his ears plugged he heard the clap of
    thunder and felt the rumble of the floor beneath him. Slowly it all faded and
    finally he unplugged his ears and opened his eyes.

    Jason lost his breath and said, Oh; Diana!

    She was now in a black satin kimono, so short it barely covered
    her swollen cunt lips. The top was open so that her jiggling tits were quite
    visible, with only her incredible nipples just barely hidden by the edges of
    it. Her hair was full of volume and framed her incredible face like the mane of
    a lion. She was still wearing her tiara. Her forever tan legs had an incredible
    sheen to them as did all her skin.

    Wrapped tightly around her waist was her gold belt which kept
    the kimono barely in place. Jason also noticed that she still had her golden
    bracelets on her wrists.

    This attire will be far more conducive to our mutual desire.
    Wouldn t you agree? Diana winked.

    Jason nodded and felt clear fluid, like oil, already beginning
    to seep from the tip of his throbbing hard cock! How would he last long enough
    with her? How? She possessed superhuman strength! He d be no match for her.

    As if picking up on this, Diana said, Now to be fair, Jason, I
    realize that with my great strength, I d overwhelm you, and our night would be
    very brief. And I m not interested in anything so shallow or fleeting.

    She glanced toward his bed, taking immediate note of the brass
    bed posts.

    I m being extremely vulnerable with you right now, Jason, she
    said.

    Diana approached Jason, and pulled open the front of her kimono,
    now exposing her tits and nipples. They were large and more glorious that he
    ever imagined.

    Diana said, I don t have any special powers now, Jason. I m
    like any other woman. Average strength, endurance, speed.

    Jason slid his briefs off, then stepped toward her and said,
    There s nothing average about you, Wonder Woman.

    She smiled and reached down, gently wrapping her fingers around
    his throbbing cock, gently feeling the shape of his head. Those fingers were so
    soft and gentle; the same fingers that just bent two inches of solid brass!

    Make love to me, Jason, Diana said. She gently took his right
    hand, and guided it down to below her waist and then eased his fingers into her
    perfectly trimmed hair. It was a narrow small patch like a stripe and no
    wonder; with her satin shorts cut so high in front!

    Jason moved his fingers up, now feeling her lips; and just how
    wet they were. There would be no resistance entering her.  She reacted to
    his touch, her lips pursing and a moan coming from between then.

    Oh. she breathed.

    She looked down and saw the growing moist droplet oozing out of
    his cock tip. His boner saluting upward a stiff incline.

    She gently pushed him back, step by step toward the bed. Jason
    eased down on his back, all six inches of his steel, pointed  up &
    above the headboard brass., his head so swollen and enlarged.

    Diana climbed above him, and opened her legs. Her tits were
    lifted, her nipples so erect. She eased down, her wet lips touching and then
    devouring his cock! She lowered onto him, feeling him grow inside her, sliding
    unimpeded all the way to her top where she felt that magnificent head of his
    pressed against her spot. Jason s cock felt like it was being doused with hot
    fudge topping.

    She looked down at him. Her face! Her hair. The gleaming gold
    tiara with red ruby star in the center of it! Her tits. Her impossible,
    glorious pussy swallowing all six inches of him.

    And now, Jason Trevor, Diana said in a sultry tone, I m
    gunna  ride your cock to nirvana!.

    A moment later she began a pumping motion with her hips, subtle
    at first, and then gradually more and more, sliding up and down on his rod. Her
    tits began to lift and bounce, up and down, up and down.

    He reached for her hips, his fingers sliding around to her
    incredible, perfect ass!

    Oh, Diana! Jason moaned. I can t believe this is happening!

    Jason was still trying to comprehend the

    reality of the situation. He was making love to Wonder Woman! The Wonder Woman!
    Diana was pumping her hips harder, sliding up and down perfectly along all six
    inches of Jason Trevor s iron hard cock. Up and down, up and down like an
    engine, her tits so large, hanging incredibly over her ribcage and flat, tan
    stomach. Her nipples were pointed up, so erect they looked as hard as steel
    bolts in a building!

    Diana s wet, red lips formed a perfect O

    shape, her eyes closed and her head craned backward.

    Oh, oh, oh, uh, uh, oh, Jason! She cried

    out into the room!

    Jason s mind raced. Was this really

    happening? Did Wonder Woman just cry out his name in pleasure? Was he actually
    going to make her .

    Oh she howled. Oh, yes, here it cums!

    Jason felt her pussy clamp down on his cock

    followed by a spasm of her muscles deep inside! The head of his cock, that
    large umbrella shape, struck her G Spot one final time and that s when he felt
    her cum! It was a sudden rush of very warm cream spilling all over him, coating
    the whole length of his rod!

    Uh, uh, uh! Diana cried out, still pumping

    her hips furiously up and down, up and down, coating his iron hard boner with
    her fluid, emptying herself all over him.

    She looked down at him, never losing her

    rhythm, still pumping up and down. Her blue eyes had an electric quality, as if
    they were glowing. That beautiful gold tiara was shining in her full hair, the
    ruby red star twinkling! She was breathing heavy, her chest heaving up and down
    fro

    31 min

About Steamy-Stories

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Explicit short stories of intimacy and passion.