Telepathy & Pheromones: part 1 A new boytoy on campus. By Dash91830 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Murphy groaned as he reached over with his hand to switch the alarm clock off. He liked going to school but hated waking up so early for that. It is really necessary though. There is simply no other choice for him. The new school is a bit far from his house and he has to leave early if he wants to get there in time. He quickly got into the shower stall and showered as quickly as he could.  The boy also looked for something to wear to school while he does so. Despite being able to afford it, he isn’t picky about what he wears. He’s slender, handsome, and introverted. He’s a late bloomer and still growing, despite turning 18 just two weeks ago. The fall semester at Edison High started last week. Once done, he quickly put his clothes on. Then he checked to see if he’s packed everything properly. Satisfied that he has, he went into the dining room where his parents waited for him. His dad sat at the table while his mom is in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Like usual, Murphy’s father is reading the morning newspaper. Murphy believes he’s got his nerdy side from his dad but the truth is he would have ended up as a dork on his own, anyway. His dad also being one is merely a coincidence and not a cause or anything like that. “Hey, honey,” his mom says to him, over the counter which divides the two rooms.  She appears with a plate of waffles & sat down at the table. “How’s school lately? Did you make any new friends in this new town?” He sighed to himself. Not this conversation again! “I know that transferring schools in your senior year can be very rough but you can still try to find someone to hang out with. No need to be alone all the time, you know? Just think about it.” It is one of the very rare occasions when Murphy thinks that his mom is boring. Extremely rare. Most of the time she is charismatic and interesting to talk to, especially when she brags about how she seduced his dad. “Mom, thank you for worrying about me, but I’m fine. You have nothing to worry about,” Murphy told her. “I can be on my own. I don’t need lots of friends or anything like that.” He then starts to eat the waffles. His father then says “I think your mom is right on this though,” making his eyes go wide in surprise. Murphy can’t believe his dad would say that he needs to get out more. The middle aged man is as much of an introvert as he is. “I missed a lot of chances to make friends when I was your age. Don’t make the same mistakes as I did. It would be good for you to have some friends you can still hang out with after it is all over.” Murphy sighs. “Thanks, but it won’t be as enjoyable for me, because I like it better when I’m alone,” he informed both of them. “I don’t need a lot of other people in my life. I like to read & study; and I enjoy movies & music. That’s all. Having some friends is only going to be a waste of my time. A girlfriend is a completely different subject though. That I won’t mind having one, but it might be a long time before I can get any.” And then he went back to eating the waffles again, but quickly now, wanting to get away from this conversation & get to school ahead of time. “Every introvert says that before they meet someone,” his mother said. “Take your dad, for example. He was a total geek just like you. I mean, he still is a geek, but you get my point.” His father flushes slightly and Murphy snickered. “I dropped several hints but he didn’t think that a cheerleader like me could want him, and failed to pick up on my subtle hints. That’s why I ended up slipping a sedative into his orange juice & deflowered him. It was the perfect first date,” she said to her son with a smile, recalling that wonderful, distant memory. Sometimes Murphy would let himself wonder if his mom is a little insane or something to brag about raping his dad, but he never asked her that. “That does sound very romantic,” the sardonic boy said with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m not going to drug anyone like you drugged dad though. Guys get convicted of felonies for that stuff. Plus, the idea of it just doesn’t appeal to me.” He then quickly ate the rest of his waffles and waited for his mom and dad to do the same, so that he could wash the dishes before his mom drove him to school. She always dropped him off at school on her way to work. “Just remember what I said. Try not to be alone all of the time,” she said to him as he left the car and walked up to the school building. Murphy has told her countless times that he would try his best, and always did. Does she worry that I’ll ‘Columbine’ my new school, he wondered? It just never worked. A few girls at the old school thought he was cute but didn’t want to have any meaningful, long term relationship with him. Two goth girls thought he was just a loser & they wanted to fuck him once and then him throw away, like a used Kleenex. That’s actually what the second one said to him. Murphy wanted to save himself for someone who saw him as more than that. Murphy is very selective about all his relationships, but those relationships have much deeper meaning to him than other teenagers can appreciate. He got to the library and sat down at a table by himself. There, he pulled an old novel out from his backpack and then started to read. It is a very interesting one, one that he’s reread several times already. Murphy just can’t stop coming back to it. He perused through the pages and hummed to himself, feeling content with the peace and quiet of the library. He’d only been here a week but it is already his favorite place in the school and the second place doesn’t even come close in his mind. Not by a long shot. There is nowhere else he would rather spend time before morning classes start. Suddenly, someone else sat down on the chair opposite him. “Hey, cutie,” the person said, making him look up in surprise. No girl has ever called him a cutie before. Even the very few ones who wanted to just hook up made it clear that he is below them. He is even more surprised to see how beautiful the girl who just called him cute, is. She is a very pretty black haired girl named Rachel. Rachel is on the track and field team, and the school’s second fastest female sprinter, with a personal record of 13.94 seconds for the 100m sprint. She’s tall, athletically lean, and looks more like a college girl than a high school senior. “Uh, Hi!” he stammers out, still feeling shaken by the beautiful girl who is now coyly batting her eyelashes at him. He couldn’t believe this. Murphy has been objectified before a few times but this is the first time someone has ever looked at him this way. “Your name is Rachel, right?” She nodded. “I’m Murphy. I just moved to this town over summer break, so I haven’t gotten to talk with a lot of people yet. Would you mind showing me around?” Murphy curses his talkative, trembling voice for making him sound like an idiot in front of the raven-haired beauty. Rachel giggled. “You don’t need to try to flirt with me. I’ll do all the flirting” she told him boldly, and he flushed. “I’ll also treat you to dinner tonight, so just call your parents and tell them that you have a date with one of the hottest girls in school.” Murphy was shocked by how bold she was, but also can’t help feeling a little turned on. He has always secretly desired a dominant girl to tell him what to do. The way she just told him he is going on a date with her instead of asking, is just so hot. He quickly yanked his phone out of his pocket and called his mom to tell her a girl just asked him out. Murphy only had to wait a few seconds before she excitedly told him to say ‘yes!” The boy then switched his phone off and shyly told Rachel “Sure! I’ll go on the date with you.” He then glanced aside and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his blushing face from her. His cheeks burnt up, as red as a tomato now. He really can’t hide it when he is feeling shy or embarrassed, and he knows it. “Baby, I wasn’t asking,” Rachel said. “My best friend’s father is a mob boss. I’d have gotten her to help me force you to go out with me, if you said no.” She then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the table. Murphy just sat there, stunned at what just happened to him. This is crazy. He has never experienced anything like this at his old school. A part of him was slightly alarmed at how casually she said she could force him to be with her, but then he dismisses it, thinking she was joking. During the homeroom class, he tried to focus on reading but couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to Rachel and her smile. Her eyes mesmerized him and seemed to captivate his soul. Murphy realized with a start that he has never been affected in this way by any girl before. It’s why he is still a virgin. That, and the fact that no other girl had ever expressed genuine interest in him. They all either saw him as a geek, the sort of guy you’re just friends with, or a guy to have a one night stand with. No one ever asked, or rather, told him to go on a date with her. At the end of the last class, Rachel walked him to the parking lot, where her Porsche is parked. He gasped, making her smirk as she opened the passenger-side door for him. Then she got behind the steering wheel and told him to buckle up, before driving off to a little restaurant not too far away. All the way there she charmed Murphy with various anecdotes and continued to win him over with her magnetic smile. He was dazzled by her soothing, honey-like voice and found himself unable to look away. It also helps her that she is wearing a tight T-shirt that shows off her toned arms. But there was something else. Something; bewitching? “I lift weights a lot,” she said to him and flexed her arm, showing off her firm muscles. He blushed, even more smitten now when she gave him a very roguish smirk. She knew exactly how to charm him and switched her cool charisma up to the maximum. It is the first date that Murphy has ever been on in his entire life and he found that it was far less scary than he thought it would be. All he had to do is stay calm, listen to her talk and tell her about himself. “What do you like doing in your spare time?” Rachel asks him, interested. “I like reading, some movies. I particularly like science-fiction novels a lot,” he told her, hoping she wouldn’t think he’s a dork. He was relieved when she just smiled. “I also go for hikes too, when I have time and want some fresh air, but I’m not particularly ‘outdoorsy’. But now I think I’ll start going to your track practice and to watch you race. I’ve been told you are the best sprinter here. Really can’t wait to see how fast you can go.” At this she started chuckling and he frowned with fear he’d said something wrong. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?” Murphy asked her. “Nothing,” she assured him. “It’s just that there is another girl who is even faster than I am. She’s the one I told you about, whose dad is a mafia boss. I’ll have to introduce you to her later.” This semester we’re just informally practicing. Real varsity competition starts after the holidays. Rachel woke up feeling extremely happy, Monday morning. It had been a few days since she and the new boy went out together. He’s very cute and she feels that he might really be the one for her, even though they’ve only been on two dates, the first one being their dinner, last Friday, at the rustic restaurant. The second being a trip to the cinema on Saturday. Now she was thinking about where to go with him next. There were so many ideas going through her head and she tried to come up with the best one. She wants to get into his pants as quickly as possible, so somewhere very romantic where she can woo him and seduce Murphy right out of his clothes. She was far more sexually experienced than her best friend Sofia, who is still technically a virgin. Technically, since even though she never had a cock in her pussy, Sofia has given blowjobs to all five of her ex boyfriends. Her ex boyfriends were all assholes she only dated to increase her popularity, as she told Rachel several times. Rachel always told Sofia that she didn’t need to rely on them for status, because Sofia is already very popular on her own as captain of the track team and a very beautiful redhead. Both of the girls were much more experienced than Murphy though, because he never even got as far as holding hands before he met Rachel. The girls had studied various arts of seduction since junior high, and mastered many of them. Eating breakfast alone on the back patio, a crazy old idea suddenly occurred to Rachel. She found an empty water bottle and then reached under her skirt and took her panties off. Then she took off the cap &set it on the lawn, with her shaved pussy just above it. Rachel then started urinating into the water bottle. She pissed inside it, and then screwed the lid back on it tightly. Her face had a devilish grin on it as she thought of what she just did and is now about to do. If the old book of charms was true, it would be perfect. Her innocent new boyfriend would never suspect a damn thing. Just thinking of it made her cackle. Then she went to her bathroom and quickly took a shower. Her parents have already left for work so she jogged the 6 blocks to school like she and Sofia usually do. Sofia and Rachel have been best friends since the age of eight. They have always been as thick as thieves & nearly inseparable. Sofia’s dad is a ruthless mobster and the only person he cares about, other than his wife and 2 children, is Rachel, since she is his oldest child’s best friend. When Sofia arrived at school, Murphy was already there, getting a book from his locker. Seeing his girlfriend, Murphy gave her a brilliant smile with slightly tinged cheeks. “Hey, baby,” he said to her. and puckered his lips, and Rachel leans in to peck him gently. He beamed and she was lost in his cuteness. The boy is so damn adorable and she can’t help it. She has never seen a boy this cute before. It’s not really his face but also the way he acts, his expressions and body language. Such innocence on a guy is rare. “I got you something,” she said to him as she handed him the water bottle. “It’s a special tea. I made it myself.” The second part is true, at least. She could feel her panties getting damp as she anticipated about what she was going to see in just a few seconds, now. “Why don’t you drink it now and tell me what you think of it, honey?” Her eyes looked so innocent that no one would suspect anything, even if they were told what she is capable of. She has gotten away with a lot of pranks in the past due to her innocent looks. “Sure, baby!” Murphy replied and then removed the cap. It smelled a bit putrid since it is literally fresh piss, but he didn’t know that. He drank it and was surprised by how salty it is, but since he is no expert on tea, he assumed that there is a blend of tea which is this salty. It did taste pretty good to him though. He smiled at her brightly. “I love it,” he says to her. Rachel smiled, inwardly giggling at how fun it is, duping her adorable boyfriend into swallowing her pheromone-rich piss. “This is really delicious. What blend is it, Rachel?” Rachel could barely keep a straight face when she says “That’s an old secret, honey. I don’t want you getting it from anyone but me.” He raised his eyebrows at this but didn’t say anything else as the two headed off to their homeroom classes. He did feel that it tastes weird but it’s still delicious to Murphy. He took a couple more sips and Rachel had to try to contain her giggles. She couldn’t believe he is so easy to fool. Oh this is going to be a very fun day, for her at least. “I’ll make you more whenever you want, baby.” “Thanks, Rachel,” he said sweetly, and the two of them part for separate homerooms. Rachel grinned to herself and walked towards her own homeroom, where she spent the next 20 minutes grinning like a mad cat. This is easily the best day of her life, so far. It is even better than the time she got gang-banged for the first time on the day after her 18th birthday, and that was really awesome, with getting a cum-shower at the very end. It was just perfect. In her first period after homeroom, she saw Sofia walking in. The redhead is a little bit taller, but has a more perfect ass than Rachel and any other girl in the school. Her thighs are also very powerful. Sofia is the fastest girl on the track and field team, holding the school record of 12.61 seconds. She is also very talented at sucking cocks. All her ex boyfriends were very satisfied, but she wasn’t, not because they were lacking in the sex department but since they were all jerks, whose only use was to make her look good when out with them. “Hey! What’s up?” Sofia asked her best friend and gives her a hug. Sofia is not only a great athlete but she possesses the rare power of telepathy as well. Since junior high, she has been able to read other people’s thoughts and, with practice, influence their feelings. But the girl doesn’t like to use these powers very much, since they make her feel like she is violating other people’s privacy. No one knows about her abilities, since she fears being thought of as a freak. The girl wanted a life as normal as possible, which is already hard enough with her dad and brother being gangsters. No need to draw more attention with her psychic abilities. “Well,” Rachel coyly said; “I met this really cute guy a few days ago,” Rachel began. Sofia smiled and prompted her to go on. “He’s really adorable! I’m not going to introduce him to you though since I’m afraid you might want to suck his dick. You enjoy seducing guys by sucking cocks, don’t you?” Sofia just smirked at her friend shamelessly. Rachel knew about all five guys she dated. Sofia also gave blowjobs to several college boys during last summer, and Rachel knew that, too. The ginger loved nothing more than feeling an expanding cock, then ejaculate in her mouth and down her throat. It empowered her because it makes a guy want nothing more than more and more of her. She has yet to try real sex though, and her cunt is still untouched. By keeping her cunt out of their reach, She makes them want her even more. Sofia normally doesn’t like using her telepathy powers but right now she is very curious, probing into her friend’s mind. The gangster’s daughter nearly gasped when she conjurred the shy boy with a coquettish grin on his innocent face. ‘He really is adorable,’ she thought to herself. Then Sofia went in deeper and was shocked to see Rachel pissing inside a water bottle, and giving that bottle to the same boy. “So what’s his name?” she asked, not wanting to seem suspicious. She might have never told Rachel about the powers she was gifted with, but Rachel isn’t dumb. She might figure it out one day. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you,” Rachel said after Sofia subtly influenced her mood. “But only because you are my closest friend. You better not start getting any ideas about sucking this guy’s cock.” She paused, waiting for Sofia to nod and give the requested promise. “His name is Murphy. He just transferred.” Then Rachel asked; “What about your week, Sofia? Sucked any new cock this week? I know how much you enjoy drinking warm semen.” Sofia snickered, not at all offended by this. It is the truth, after all. “Not this week, no. I just spent most of it babysitting my little brother, Shane.” Sofia is fiercely protective of the boy. He is one of the very few people she deeply cares about, along with her parents and Rachel. “He wanted to stay up and watch Star Wars all night last night, but I told him ‘no’, and he was a bit upset about it.” “Your parents are away awfully often, lately,” Rachel observed. Sofia sighed, and said nothing. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Rachel said. “Just tell me everything is alright.” Both of them know that they can’t discuss Sofia’s dad very much since his life is constantly shrouded in secrecy. It is just a part of being a mob boss, after all. Sofia’s dad is nice enough to both of them but they are still under strict orders not to talk too much about what he does and where he is when he goes on his trips around the country. He also doesn’t tell them much to begin with, to make sure they don’t know anything dangerous. This is for their own safety, as well as his. “They are okay, I think,” Sofia said to her friend and the two then focus on the class as their teacher starts teaching. During the entire lesson, Rachel couldn’t stop thinking about her cute boyfriend. Sofia mentally blocked the thoughts from her mind as she does not have to know the sort of perverted ideas that goes on inside Rachel’s head. Sofia finds herself feeling sorry for Murphy. Sure, Sofia is perverted herself, but she never even thought about raping anyone. She never had to, since all she ever wanted to do was suck dick and none of her ex boyfriends and hook ups had a problem with that. When a beautiful ginger with a lushious body like Sofia’s is eager to orally service a cock, persuasion is rarely needed. Rachel plotting about how she can get Murphy to be helplessly hers and the way she can possess him. First the piss will activate her pheromones throughout his body, to direct his teenage virility to desire her scent, more. She can’t wait to complete the next phase, of marking her territory by submerging his pheromone-saturated cock in her dripping pussy, then watch as her pheromones, which he ingested in her special ‘tea’, react with her pussy juices, to permanently set her pussy odor in his innocent cock until he is nothing but her sex slave. Yes, she likes him a lot and that is why she wants to pussy-whip him, so that he wouldn’t be desirable to any other woman. She wants him to be able to think of nothing but her pussy. Her bald pussy has taken so many cocks inside it since her June 1st birthday party, but it is still rather tight enough for a completely virgin cock. The boy has never even gotten a handjob before, except for the ones he surely gives himself. She can’t wait for school to be over so she could stalk the nerdy boy home and maybe break into his place. Then she can rape him until he is totally broken. Murphy took a short walk to the ice cream shop is just eating ice cream in a nearby park not far from the campus. It is after the end of school day and he’s admiring the beautiful estates just across the busy parkway. he has about forty five minutes left before his mother arrives to pick him up. His weekly after school science fiction club has just been cancelled. As he ate the ice cream, he smiled to himself. Not just because the ice cream is tasty, but also because he has been constantly happy since when he first talked to Rachel three days ago. She is his first girlfriend and he likes her a lot. A cat walks by and stops to hiss at him, then mark the next park bench with her piss. Murphy assumes the cat is jealous of his ice cream. Suddenly, Murphy sees a little kid run into the parkway, with a loud shriek that is coming from a mansion doorway, more than a hundred meters away. Without thinking of his own safety, Murphy quickly tossed his ice cream aside and rushed after the much younger boy. He managed to grab him and drag him back to safety just in time as a large truck passed around the curve at a high speed. “Are you okay?” he asked the kid and quickly looked all over the boy, just to check for any cuts & bruises that might or might not be there. It was very fast. The boy started crying and Murphy patted his back awkwardly. Then a redhead he is sure he’s seen before rushed over to them. “Oh my god, are you okay, Shane?” Then she turned to face Murphy and for just the briefest of moments, her face shows a trace of surprise. “You’re new, right? I think I’ve seen you around school before.” He noded. “Thank you so much. This is my little brother and you just saved him.” Sofia then hugged him tightly and Murphy awkwardly blushed, before extracting himself from her strong arms. Sofia quickly surmised him as the nerd that is dating her best friend, but she didn’t say anything. She’s too busy staring at him, mesmerized by how cute he is. And he’s so brave too, from how he ran into the busy parkway to save her little brother. She adjusted her black leather jacket as he dismissed the rescue; “It’s okay. Anyone else would have done the same thing in my place.” Murphy looked at the crying little boy and asked for his name. Once he got it, he said “I will be right back. You and your sister wait here for me, okay” He jogged to the corner and made for the ice cream shop where he saw assorted candy sticks at the register. The redhead mafia princess found herself staring at his ass. He is a slow runner and only intercepted Shane before she did because he was so much closer to him. Of course, she was incredibly grateful and felt something more than that too. Her heart was wildly thumping in her chest as she thought of how Rachel is so lucky to have this nice and adorable guy. He’s not self-absorbed, like most of the guys Sofia knows. She should have met him first, but Rachel did, and now she is felt jealous of her best friend. I have a much bigger ass than Rachel’s, Sofia thinks to herself bitterly. Murphy returned, smiling as he handed a candy stick to the still crying boy. “Here, kiddo. You can have it if you stop crying, okay?” That got him to stop crying immediately, as he peeled back the cellophane wrapper. Murphy smiled lightly and he tousled the kid’s hair as he watched him unwrap and start eating the candy. “It’s okay. You weren’t hit. Just be way more careful next time and don’t run into the road again, all right?” Shane just nodded, munching on candy. He reminded Murphy of the little cousin he has and feels very protective of. “Why don’t you thank him, honey?” Sofia asks her little brother, who only mumbles a small ‘thank you’ to Murphy. The tall shapely redhead turns to Murphy and said; “Sorry about this. He can be shy around strangers but I’m sure that he’s really grateful for you saving him. What is your name again?” she asked. Truthfully, Sofia already knows it from when she probed into Rachel’s mind earlier in the day, but she wants to let it unfold naturally, and stalling so that she has time to think about what to do. “I’m Murphy,” he quickly said and offered a handshake. She accepted it gracefully and found herself lusting for him when he glanced aside bashfully at her admiring gaze. He is even more adorable than when she saw him in Rachel’s head. Sofia is getting so horny already and really wants him. Sofia processes attraction to a guy with her obsession to suck his cock. But she has never wanted to suck anyone’s cock this much. In fact, she even wants to go the full distance with him and finally lose her virginity. He is the sort of guy she wants to do it with. Kind, very sweet and gentle. The boy of her dreams. His act of risking his life for a random kid, awakens her desire to fully give her ‘flower’ to him. It’s all so primal that modern thinking is unaware of it. “Well, I better get going now.” Murphy said, breaking her trance. “Wait!” Sofia says, steps forward to stop him from leaving. “Let me thank you for saving him.” He was about to just wave it aside when she grabbed his sleeve and desperately offered; “I can give you a thank you blowjob. I am very good at sucking dicks, you know. All of my ex boyfriends were very happy when dating me.” Murphy stared at Sofia in absolute shock, not sure if he heard that correctly or not. “You won’t believe how good I am at blowjobs.” She proudly assured him. “Not unless you let me give you one, today.” Murphy backed away instinctively, his hands now subconsciously covering his crotch protectively. But seeing a need to now rescue her from the pain of rejection, he took her hand gently off his sleeve and said softly; “You are really beautiful and I am very touched by your offer, but I am already dating someone.” Sofia had to pretend to be surprised, not wanting to reveal anything. “I’m sorry but I’ve to go now.” Murphy then heads to the campus, wanting to say goodbye to Rachel at the running track, before his mom arrives to take him home. The boy knows Rachel would be there right now since she takes track and field very seriously and he said he’d show up at practice. To be continued. By Dash91830 for Literotica

A Virgin Brit On A French Holiday: Part 1 Tante Marie’s chateau of delights. By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I had just left school at the age of nineteen and had a whole summer before starting uni in October. I was off to France for a month and in the 60s that was a big adventure, I couldn’t wait. Having been cloistered in a boys boarding school for the last five years I was now off to explore the world, well northern France at least. We had relatives there and I was going to spend my first month in a chateau just outside Amiens. Chateau sounds very grand and thanks to TV, if not schoolboy French, it doesn’t mean castle. It in fact means a gentleman’s residence, substantial for sure, but no portcullis or draw bridge. I had never met Tante Marise, nor stayed in a chateau, draw bridge or no draw bridge. France was a very formal place in the 60’s, actually it still is, so Aunt Marise was always addressed as Tante, or Tante Marise: never, ever simply as Marise, way too sloppy for the linguistically pedantic French. Although, interestingly enough, we did use the familiar tu, rather than the more formal vous form. One of those interesting vagaries of Roman languages. Actually Tante Marise now lived in one wing of the chateau as the place was enormous and, even in the 60’s, quite unmanageable for a single family, so it had been divided into three, still substantial, homes. The building was massively imposing. A classic Somme chateau with a hugely impressive double staircase to the centre section and two wings. Tante Marise lived in one of the wings and the rest had been sold off, but the land, an apple orchard, had remained in the family, largely for the private production of Calvados, which is the French word for brandy. As I recall, in those days, you were allowed to make a certain amount of Calvados without a permit, as long as it was for private consumption, but definitely not for sale. My late lamented uncle Cyril had applied a certain French flexibility to the rules and there were stashes of this magic potion all over the farm. The interest of the authorities had been distracted by his throwing of lavish boozing sessions with the local constables. Alas Uncle Maurice had passed away and I surmised that my board and lodging was something of a quid pro quo for helping with the harvest. I was only nineteen, so hard work didn’t worry me and besides they had one of those magnificent 60s French bicycles I could use in my spare time. It was a Solex bicycle or something similar. It had a simple motor that you lowered with a lever onto the front tyre and no longer had to pedal. I could use it to go to the village or wherever I liked. It would never have crossed my mind to borrow the car any more than it would have crossed hers to offer it. That was not the way things happened then. The great day came and the details of how I got to Tante Marise’s chateau are lost to the mists of time but arrive I did. My first introduction to her was of her grasping me by the shoulders, pulling me towards her and planting several kisses on each cheek, an uncommon greeting in England at the time, but very pleasant. She was petite, with short dark hair and very square glasses. She was also younger than I expected. I never knew her age but I calculated it to be late thirties and I remember being surprised at how neat and trim her figure was, but most of all, how obvious her breasts were. They had actually contacted my chest during her enthusiastic greeting, which had been a delight. Cyril & Marise had never had children and always enjoyed the visits from their nephews and nieces. Why it had taken so long for the English side of the family to visit is uncertain, but the recent visit was probably prompted by my impending university course studying French literature I settled in and tried speaking French, probably with mixed success. Tante Marise herself was French, spoke pretty good English, but with that delightfully sexy French accent made famous many years later by the TV programme ‘Allo 'Allo. However, part of the reason for my stay was to get my conversational French fluent, so she only allowed us to speak English after supper and, as no-one else on the farm spoke English, it was going to be a valuable experience. It was a typically hot summer and Tante Marise liked to wear very light clothing, so my young eyes could hardly avert my gaze from her very obvious breasts. They were made all the more noticeable because of her habit of not wearing a bra. This was a completely new trend at that time and usually only observed on the Riviera. Not so with Tante Marise, whenever she bent over in the orchards or the kitchen, her pendulous breasts undulated in the most delightful fashion and, I have to confess, featured heavily in my nocturnal fantasies. Occasionally the farm foreman would come to supper and, after finishing off their meal with a glass of calvados, they would head to the 'Bureau’ to discuss business. Antoine was a giant of a man with huge hands, a great shock of white hair and a magnificent moustache, the kind you only ever see now in caricatures of French moustaches. On these occasions I was left alone in the parlor to watch TV. French TV back in those days was much more risqué than its English equivalent and I was often treated to pictures of naked ladies, admittedly usually a rear view, but totally naked all the same. How did the actor who was facing her cope with the pleasant distraction? He must have seen everything! And everything was beyond my wildest dreams. We must remember that this was the sixties, no internet and certainly no porn or even explicit magazines. I really can’t remember what we called female genitalia back then but it probably wasn’t as nice as my newly acquired French word, foufoune, or pussie; so I will use that. One evening, when Tante Marise and Antoine were in the 'Bureau’ discussing business, I got so worked up by a really sexy French film, featuring a totally naked couple, that I made my way to my room to relieve the tension that the characters on screen had induced in my teenage penis or 'ma bitte’, which means ‘my dick’, as I had heard the actors calling it. The route to my room took me past the 'Bureau’ and whatever they were discussing, it had little or nothing to do with the running of the farm. Remember, I was only nineteen and had been at a boys’ boarding school for the last five years. I had no knowledge of sex whatsoever, except the purely mechanical process from biology lessons. The penis enters the vagina, semen flows, fertilisation takes place, et voilá, reproduction! The detail of what sex might actually be like was still a mystery and, I imagined, still several years in the future. The world was a much more naive place back then: much more. I had never even seen a picture of a naked woman, let alone seen a real one, and my knowledge of breasts was limited to pictures in Health & Efficiency magazine, which was popular at the time. Now, for the first time ever in my young life, I was hearing sounds that I only thought I understood. Tante Marise was using French words I hadn’t learned yet and so was Antoine! Their breathless exchanges along with the rhythmic squeaking sounds of the 'Bureau’s day couch were seriously erotic. Was this what fucking sounded like in real life? Was Antoine actually fucking Tante Marise? My, already eager, cock certainly thought so. Just the other side of the door I could imagine Tante Marise, blouse open, those magnificent tits on display, lying back on the day couch with her legs spread wide, welcoming Antoine’s cock in her foufoune! Antoine for his part, I imagined, was clasping her naked buttocks in his giant hands as he thrust into her with rapidly mounting excitement. Fuck this was sexy! I stayed as long as I dared, getting more and more excited with this unexpected introduction to the magic sounds of copulation. I could hear their breathing becoming more rapid, their words of encouragement getting louder, the squeaking rhythm accelerating and yes: I came in my pants! I had hardly touched my cock but the sounds of two people actually fucking only a few feet away, combined with my boyish imagination, was more than I could stand. I hurried to my room to inspect the damage. Wow, what a lot of cum! It had already soaked through from my pants and there was a large wet patch on the front of my trousers. What to do? I didn’t normally go to bed this early and I certainly could not go back to the parlor in these trousers. I decided that getting into my pyjamas and going back down would be the best course of action, but first I put on clean under pants to keep my cock firmly locked up. Back in the TV room Tante Marise reappeared after I heard her show Antoine out with a cheery, “À la prochaine.” Or, until next time. What? There was going to be a next time? Were they going to do it again? Anyway, she sat down beside me, made some comment about my getting ready for bed early and we watched the TV. I could not stop my mind from wandering. She didn’t look any different! But she’d just been fucking! How could this be? She had just clearly enjoyed having Antoine thrusting between her thighs, an experience that I could only imagine, and here she sat as if nothing had happened. In fact, she seemed quite relaxed and serene, even. I am not sure what I expected, but certainly not this degree of blasé normality. It was just as well that I had pants on under my PJs because, try as I might, my mind kept wandering back to the scene I had just overheard. My first real encounter with sex. OK so I only overheard them having sex, but the memory was enough to give me another erection: oh the power of recovery of the teenager! As soon as possible I made my excuses and went to my room. I took off my PJs and pants and lay down on my back, stark naked, with my second erection of the evening. I felt the breeze from the open window playing on my naked body and, as the air wafted over my cock, and armed with a hanky, I set about re-playing the scene over and over in my mind. Her naked breasts, what were they like to touch? Her foufoune, what did it look like? Antoine’s hands on her bum as he thrust into her, what did that feel like? For him? For her? So many questions, so many vivid thoughts and then, as I continued to bring myself to orgasm, as slowly as possible, so as to prolong the enjoyment, the sensations started again and I knew I was about to cum. A few more strokes and I came, not as much as earlier, but a thoroughly good, satisfying, cum none the less. I cannot remember how often that memory played out in my mind over the coming days, but it was not infrequent! I could hardly wait until the following week, when I hoped there would be a repeat performance. For some reason the thought of Antoine’s massive hands clutching her pert little bottom still produces a stirring all these years later. The harvest continued in the blazing summer sun and we always returned to the chateau hot and sweaty. At the end of the corridor was the bathroom, which contained a magnificent, if somewhat antiquated, shower. Not one of those modern contraptions but something with more taps and valves than a First World War Submarine. It may have been antiquated but it was fantastically efficient. There were four vertical spray bars, with their independent controls and a drench overhead that produced a virtual tsunami. It was great for cooling off after a day in the orchards, turn the whole contraption on cold and walk in. COLD, yes: Freezing? Nearly: but enormously refreshing and, much to my surprise, nearly always produced an erection which, as a teenager, I freely confess, I almost never wasted when I got back to my room. The day’s work done, and getting ready for supper, I headed for my room, stripped off and wound a towel around my waist. What happened next changed my life, quite literally. I was half way along the corridor when the bathroom door opened. There, silhouetted in the doorway, was the totally naked form of Tante Marise. The incident, although it lasted only a few seconds, stays with me yet. Unfortunately the bathroom window was right behind the door, so a silhouette was nearly all I saw, but there was enough detail to see that girls have hair 'down there.’ Not to mention that naked, unfettered, breasts have a motion all their own. Taken by surprise, I turned politely to avert my gaze and Tante Marise, retreated into the bathroom, only to emerge a few seconds later, modestly wrapped in a large towel. We crossed in the corridor and she muttered. “Désolé.” Désolé! Why was she sorry for one of the most exciting moments of my young life. My embarrassment was only compounded buy my automatic response. “De rien!” It’s nothing! Nothing! I had just seen my first full frontal naked female and said that it was nothing! I had been so embarrassed, I hadn’t had time to think, so I scurried into the bathroom, turned on all elements of the shower to full cold, dived in and set to work on the erection that the combined effects of the cold water and the image of a totally naked Tante Marise had produced. We overcame our embarrassment at supper by ignoring the incident and settled down to watch TV afterwards. Antoine had not reappeared and over a week had passed. What a disappointment! I was not going to be treated to episode two of 'Tante Marise enjoys a noisy shag.’ Oh well, the flash of her naked body had made up for it and surely one orgasm an evening should be enough for any teenager, or maybe just one more when I get back upstairs? This particular night produced another film in the series that had so affected me the previous week. More French erotica! But this time sitting next to Tante Marise, which made my excitement much harder to conceal. As the plot developed it was quite clear that our heroine was about to seduce her co-star. Their clothes had been shed and the obligatory rear view of a naked woman advancing on her lucky prey, filled the screen. They were clearly just about to fuck. This was getting difficult to deal with. I had not long ago seen Tante Marise in just such a state, but from the front. The whole thing, hair and all! But sitting next to her, watching this level of sexual activity had caused a predictable response from my young 'bitte’. It is very easy to forget how little it takes to provoke an erection in the sexually inexperienced. Just as the sex act was about to take place, Tante Marise placed her hand on my knee, leaned forwards, turned and looked into my eyes with a beguiling smile and said. “ Un peu racé, non?” A little racy? This was torrid beyond my wildest dreams. Then she stunned me by taking my hand and placing it on her covered breast. Not another word was spoken, she just lifted my hand and put it there. OK she had on a loose dress, but no bra. My first experience of an adult female breast. I probably made a mess of it, but it was so exciting, warm, soft and pliable with that little hard bud on the end. What is happening? I would like to say that I played expertly with it, but that would not be true. In the actual event I summoned up all my courage and slid my hand in through the opening at the front of her dress. I touched a naked breast for the first time, and lightly ran my open palm over her nipple. It is hard to imagine now, after a lifetime of sexual activity, how exciting this was. Tante Marise, meanwhile slid her hand from my knee up towards my groin. I do not know if I was normal or not, but stories of boys first time sexual encounters lasting for ages, or even minutes, just do not ring true to me. I am fondling my first breast and Tante Marise is sliding her hand up my fully clothed thigh. It got as far as my crotch, only just lightly brushed over my cock: the tension was unbearable. I came! She must have sensed the spasm of my orgasm as she leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead and said. “I think it is time you to go to your room.” The next morning at breakfast I just didn’t know where to look. I had stroked Tante Marise’s naked breasts the previous evening and had orgasmed in front of her. She was totally unabashed about the incident and even teased me by asking, “So you had the pleasant dreams, no?” The harvest progressed in the incessant heat. Showers were taken after the hot sweaty work, but the vision of a naked Tante Marise was never repeated. More TV programmes were watched, seldom as racy as that fateful night, but some were pretty hot. By now we had reached a comfortable arrangement. If the film got raunchy she would take my hand and place it on her breast while allowing her hand to find its way to my crotch and I had mustered enough self control not to ejaculate on the spot. To be honest, usually by bringing myself off before going to the parlor to watch TV. On my final evening, during a film, while I was fondling her breast and getting more and more excited, she completely threw me by asking directly. “How is it that you like to make the masturbations?” The French language can be a little direct sometimes. After the usual blustering and denials, she chided me by telling me that it was 'healthy to make the masturbations.’ Her openness on matters sexual left me aghast. I eventually admitted that I did it lying on my back on my bed, with a hanky to make sure I didn’t leave a mark on the bedding. My admission was met with one word, “Viens, which means come.” She took my hand and stood up. I had to idea where this was leading but I had high hopes and so did my erection. We passed the Bureau, and climbed the stairs, we went past her room and along the corridor past mine, all the way to the bathroom at the end. She opened the door and ushered me ahead of her, allowing the door to close behind us. She set the knobs and levers of the WWI Submarine which sprang into life, at which point she stood right in front of me, slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Tante Marise dressed only in panties! Dressed only in panties, but not for long. She looked up at me with that wonderful smile and lowered them to the floor. I couldn’t help staring at the luxuriant dark triangle between her legs. Triangle, breasts, triangle, face, triangle! My eyes went berserk. “Viens, viens. Clothes off!” I struggled to get my clothes off with any degree of finesse, and getting my pants off, over my raging erection, while under the direct gaze of Tante Marise felt, as the French say, bizarre. Then there I was naked, standing beside my first totally naked female, who was also the first person ever to see my penis erect and erect it certainly was, the tip was all but touching my navel. “This is special.” She said, as she took me by the hand and lead me into the steaming torrent. Water cascaded everywhere as she directed a soaping operation. We soaped each other under her expert instructions. I soaped her back and felt the glorious sensation of my hands flowing over her buttocks. She returned the pleasure. I never realized how sexy it felt when your buttocks got a soapy wash. I could hardly wait to get to her breasts, they felt completely different with the water and soap flowing freely. Her nipples felt larger and definitely harder. She also allowed my hand to wander into the luxuriant triangle between her legs. I really had only the vaguest idea of what I would find there. Biology books are not that informative, but the biggest surprise was to find that my finger slipped easily into her foufoune, which was unexpectedly slippery and welcoming. I was extremely careful not to touch my cock and desperately hoped she would not touch it either, or I would cum on the spot. I just wanted this to go on for as long as possible. It could not last for ever though, and eventually she maneuvered behind me with a hand full of soap, rubbed it gently over my chest and stomach getting tantalizingly lower with each pass. She pressed up against me and I felt the roughness of her mysterious dark triangle against my thigh. She stood on tip toes and breathed into my ear. “Now you relax.” Her hand, full of soap, gently surrounded my cock and pulled the foreskin back with tantalizing slowness. This was not going to last for long, the build up had been too much. Try as I might, there was no stopping that primal sensation. As she continued her expert manipulations, the sensation started low in my legs and climbed up the inside of my thighs. I had only had this feeling rarely but I knew it was soon to end in a sensational orgasm and this time it was no different. My cock started pulsating in her hand as my young muscles squirted cum violently into the shower. “Boom, boom, boom!” She exclaimed with each new ejaculation. “That is how to make the masturbations, no?” And kissed me on the back of the neck. “Now you soap me the bum very slowly.” I did what I was told but, standing behind I couldn’t resist a breast as well. As I soaped away she seemed to take rather a long time and a great deal of care soaping her mysterious dark triangle. After a few minutes she gave a little shudder that I did not understand at the time and we left the shower together. As I lay naked on my bed that night I noticed how brown my legs and chest were compared to my midriff and suddenly realised that Tante Marise was nearly the same colour all over: no contrasting white bits! The thought of what had just happened and her sunbathing in the nude provided the fuel for the final 'masturbations’ of the family part of my summer holiday. The next day I departed for the south coast, and Barcelona, to further my informal studies. By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica.

An aspiring artist falls for a nude model.  by  Stopokochac -  - listen to the Podcast Nineteen year old Lilianne was an aspiring young artist. Always a studious bookworm, Lilly, as her friends called her, never had much time for boys. She had never dated a man, let alone been intimate with one. Her only exposure to nude men had been in online porn, and sex ed videos. Throughout her school years Lilly had fantisized about attractive young men from her class, only admiring them from afar, and wondering, “If only?” However, all that was about to change. Unbeknownst to her, her passion for art was about to forever alter the course of her love life. It was the start of Lilly’s second year in art school. This was the semester that Lilly would be taking figure drawing. Lilly made her way to her figure drawing class, anxious over the anticipation of finally seeing the hot nude men, she had always fanticized about. Just the thought of it made her nipples hard, and her genitals moist. Lilly entered her classroom and by pure luck, managed to snag the last seat in the front of the class. Anxious of what was about to come, Lilly’s legs started twitching violently. “Are you okay?” the boy next to her inquired. “Yes, I’m fine,” Lilly replied. “I’m always a bit nervous on the first day of class.” Suddenly, in came the teacher. “Good morning class,” the teacher said. “My name is Mrs. Anderson, and I will be your figure drawing instructor.” Mrs. Anderson proceeded with the usual first day of class routine, of learning names and going over the syllabus. However, Lilly tuned her out for most of the time, as all she could think about was those hot male models who would soon be standing in front of her. “We will be drawing our first model next Friday,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Next Friday?” Lilly blurted out. “Is there a problem?” Mrs. Anderson asked. “No, no problem,” Lilly replied. “I’m looking forward to it.” “That’s it for today,” Mrs. Anderson said. “You’re excused.” Lilly left the class disappointed that she would have to wait one more week to finally see her first penis. A week had past and Lilly was once again on her way to figure drawing, this time more anxious than ever, as she knew this would finally be the day. Lilly arrived even earlier this time, to make sure she would snag a front row seat. As Lilly settles in, Mrs. Anderson walks in. “Good morning class. This morning I am proud to introduce our first model of the semester. Please welcome, Lydia.” No! Lilly couldn’t believe her ears. At this point it seemed like Mrs. Anderson was deliberately screwing with her. All she wanted to do now, was get through the day’s class, and hope that next week would finally be the day. Week three of her semester had arrived, but at this point, Lilly had low hopes about seeing the nude man of her dreams. She came to class and once again sat in front row, but this time she was calm and relaxed, anticipating that Mrs. Anderson would introduce another female model. Mrs. Anderson walked into class. “Good morning class. I am excited to tell you that today we will be drawing our first male model.” Lilly’s heartrate immediately jumped to three times its normal pace. This was it. “Class, please welcome to the stage, today’s model, Curtis.” The curtain lifted, and there he was, Curtis. A 6 ft. 3’’ hippie with long dark hair, and a full goatie. He approached the podium, directly in front of our young artist, Lilly. He reached for his bathrobe belt, undid the knot and dropped his robe. There he was, just a few feet from Lilly. She couldn’t believe it. After nineteen years, she was finally looking at a naked man for the first time. Curtis was covered in thick dark chest hair, and a line of hair lead from his abdomen down to his thick, uncircumsized penis, which was partially obscured by a patch of dense, dark pubic hair. Lilly felt her nipples get hard, and her moist pussy open up. In her eyes, he was flawless. At this point, she was more focused on getting that penis, then actually drawing it. After nearly two hours, Mrs. Anderson called out, “Okay! It’s time to go class! A special thanks to our model for this week. Next week we will introduce a new model!” Curtis turned around just long enough for Lilly to catch a glimpse of his firm hairy buttocks. She knew she would never see this man or another like him again. This could be her only chance, but so many thoughts ran through her head. “What if he has a girlfriend? What if he thinks I’m ugly?” But Lilly knew if she didn’t act, she would regret it for the rest of her life. At that point, Lilly decided to take a chance. She waited outside the classroom for Curtis to come out. “Hey! Curtis, right? I’m Lilly!” “Oh, nice to meet you Lilly,” Curtis replied. “Hey listen, this might be too much to ask, but I kind of didn’t finish my drawing, and I really want to keep a straight A in this class. Do you think you could come up to my dorm later, so I can finish drawing you?” “Sure,” Curtis replied. “You seem like a sweet girl, and I would hate for you not to get that straight A. I can come by this evening around 7:00.” “7:00 works great! Lilly replied! I’ll see you then.” Lilly couldn’t believe it, and had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She jumped in excitement and yelled out a loud, squeaky, “YES!” as confused students looked at her awkwardly. “Um… sorry.” Lilly said. 7:00, Lilly is relaxing in her dorm, when she hears a knock. She opens the door, and sees Curtis. “Curtis? You’re actually here! Please, come in! Would you like a cup of coffee or something to eat?” “No, I’m fine,” Curtis replied. “Let’s finish that drawing.” Lilly sat in front of her canvas, as Curtis began to undress. Before she knew it, she was once again staring right at his hot naked pose. Lilly once again began to feel aroused, and after just a few minutes she couldn’t help herself and said, “You have a beautiful body!” Curtis blushed and said, “Why, thank you, but I don’t think you’re allowed to say that to me.” Lilly put her brush down, and stood up. She walked right up Curtis and put her hands right on his chest, “We’re not in art class.” Curtis slowly leaned in and began to kiss Lilly on the mouth. They locked hands and began to French kiss. Lilly slowly released her hands, and began to run them down his back and hairy buttocks. “I’m sorry, I’ve never done this before,” Lilly said. “Shhhhh. Just relax,” replied Curtis, as he put his index finger on Lilly’s red lips. He laid her down on the sofa, and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her blue bra. He removed her shirt and put it on the ground next to her. They then embraced each other in a Lotus position, and Curis began to unhook her bra. She pressed her perky, erect nippled breasts against his hairy chest. She gently peered down to see Curtis’s 7 inch boner, pointing straight towards her face. The two stood up and Curtus slowly began to kiss Lily’s breasts and belly. He slowly unbottoned and unzipped her jeans and gently pulled them down. He began to kiss her pink underwear, before slowly pulling it down, revealing her thick, brown pubic hair. He slowly put his mouth up against Lilly’s wet pussy, and began to lick as Lilly held his long hair. She could not believe this was happening. After a couple minutes, he began to work his way back up, kissing her stomach and breasts, eventually working his way up her armpits. He gently began to suck on her long, brown armpit hairs. After another 2 minutes he gently laid her back down on her coach. He lifted one of her leg’s up in the air, and gently inserted his 7 inch penis inside her hairy pussy. He began to slowly thrust in and out, and Lilly could feel his foreskin sliding back and forth inside her. Lilly began to moan as Curtis slowly sped up, and began to nibble on her toes. Lilly was in a state of shock! She tried to moan again, but no sound was coming out. As he began to thrust faster and faster, Lilly’s leg slipped knocking over her easel. Suddenly, Curtis pulled out. “Why’d you stop?” Lilly inquires. Next thing she knows, her chest and belly are covered with Curtis’s semen. Lilly was a virgin no more. by  Stopokochac for Literotica . -

Summer of ’65: Part 2 A more enjoyable way to study sex ed. By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The summer seemed to be racing by with lots of glorious days just messing about in boats, shooting at tin cans in the sea, and occasionally visiting Jess’ house, to swim in their pool which, mercifully, was a lot warmer than the lough. On one such occasion we were the only two there, as her family had gone out for the day. It was one of those beautiful days that only seem to happen when you are young. The sun blazed through the heavens and the sheltered area round the pool was baking. We occasionally jumped in the pool to cool off before returning to our sun loungers to work on our tans where Jess usually undid her top when lying on her stomach. “There is a fridge full of cokes in the pool house if you fancy one?” She suggested. I knew where it was, so I got up and wandered over, opened the door, and made my way to the giant American style fridge. I picked up two cokes, poured them into plastic pool glasses, before making my way back to the loungers. Jenna was naked! She was face down admittedly, tanning her back, but stark naked, just like she had been on our picnic trip. “I figured you wouldn’t mind as it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, and a bum’s just a bum,” she said with her mischievous smile and turned towards me to take the offered coke. As she did so, one pert breast, complete with little pink button nipple, escaped from its hiding place. “Ooops!” She said, tucking the offending mammary back under her. “You didn’t see that did you.” It was more of a statement than a question. I knew better than to lie to the ever confident Jess, so I admitted that I had, which was quite obvious anyway from the rapid expansion taking place in my speedos, rendering me incapable of further speech. “Never mind it was only my breast.” Only! Only a breast! There was no only abut it. I had fantasised about Jess’ breasts ever since our picnic. The image was to last a long while and, to hide the obvious swelling, I threw myself face down onto the sun lounger. It didn’t take much to provoke an erection back then. “Get some sun on that bum. Take your trunks off!” “I’m OK thanks.” “Prude. Too prude to be nude! You should let Harry out for some fresh air occasionally!” And burst out laughing. I, of course, was now shamed into it and, very carefully, slid my trunks off. I cannot deny that it was a delicious feeling being naked outdoors again, the only problem being my erection. “Too hot for me! Swim time,” said the voice to my left. “And what’s more, I’m not putting that lot on again just to get it wet.” She rolled so that she was facing away from me, stood up, and I watched that glorious rear view of the naked female form make its way to the water. I even got a flash of that mysterious place between her legs as she dove into the pool. Surfacing at the far end she called. “You just have to try this. "It’s the most invigorating experience ever! "If you’re cowardy custard, I’ll turn my back while you dive in. "There’s nothing to see once you’re in anyway. The water is too rough. "Come on in then Mr prude in the nude!” “Turn around then,” said my voice before I had time to stop it, as I rose to the bait of her dare. She turned and within seconds I, complete with fully erect Harry, were in the air, mid dive. I surfaced somewhat closer to her than I meant to, as my intention had been to stay at the other end, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Hardly surprising seeing as it was only my second encounter with a naked woman and my first ever skinny dip. I hadn’t even considered how we were going to get out. “Race you!” We raced. She won. Why? Maybe she was a better swimmer. Maybe the view up her thighs as she stroked out in front was irresistible. Maybe both! Either way we got to the shallow end out of breath and stood up in the waist deep water. “Ooops,” she said lowering her pert little breasts back into the water. “Forgot!” I’m not certain that she did and I certainly didn’t, nor will I ever! Both beautifully formed breasts, displayed themselves to me, with their little pink nipples sticking out proudly due to the refreshingly cool water. I knew if I even touched my cock it would be game over. It is hard, from this perspective, to remember the eroticism of such seemingly simple things. Going braless happened only in the south of France, going topless, only in St Tropez. This was the start of the 60s, no porn, no internet, just Harrison Marks and imagination. Jenna tried her best to diffuse the situation by pretending not to notice and set off up the steps. I watched her bare back reemerge slowly from the water as she grasped the handles. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two deliciously firm orbs of her buttocks as she climbed the steps. That vision will stay with me for ever. She reached the top step, stepped onto the tiles, looked over her shoulder, with her hands on her hips, as she stood their dripping. “Come on then!” “I think I’ll stay in for a while.” “Don’t be daft! Your teeth are chattering already. Come on. Don’t be such a prude!” “I can’t. Jenna, you’re my friend, you’re a wonderful girl, but you’re naked and I’m naked and nature has taken over.” “You’re not going to ravish me, are you?” “Of course not.” “Well that’s a relief.” There was a hint of un-conveyed meaning in the way she said it. “I’ll not look while you get to your towel.” She turned her back and I scrambled out, dashed for my towel and tried, in vain, to conceal Harry’s obvious state of excitement. Meanwhile Jenna had managed to cover up with a towel as well. We decided that that was enough for one day and headed for the pool house and our clothes, swathed, modestly for the first time that afternoon, in large towels. As the door to the pool house closed behind me, Jenna turned and said. “If you’re not going to ravish me, at least you might kiss me.” I couldn’t believe it. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I thought that any such move might ruin, what was for me, a nearly perfect relationship. I’d just been skinny dipping, for the first time and with a beautiful, confident and very sexy girl. My dreams had just become reality and my cock was still in awe. I moved in towards her and gave a, probably very amateur, attempt at a snog. She responded by opening her mouth, so I followed suit. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth, so I followed again. The snog got more and more passionate as it got more and more competent. Our hands started to explore each other as her towel fell away. I felt one hand make its way down past my belly, as my towel also fell to the floor. I was in no doubt as to where it was going. For my part, I let my hand slide off her shoulder onto the front of her chest and from there down onto her breast. My other hand slid down the back of her petite frame and onto one of the delicious twin orbs of her toned buttocks. I’ve got one hand on my first ever female breast, the other on a naked buttock. The stimulation in my brain is going overboard. The kiss continued as her hand made its way inexorably southwards. Eventually it will reach my cock. Oh my god, the sensations, the anticipation and, then sadly, the disappointment. This was all too much for a first encounter. All those tales of young lads bonking for hours on their first shag are simply lies. She had only barely touched my cock when the inevitable happened. I ejaculated. I ejaculated in some style, but I still ejaculated and Harry started to soften. While trying to make some excuse for my rapid response, her hand grasped my wrist and lead it down between us, over the soft outward curve of her belly, towards the little forest of hair between her legs. “Rub me gently.” She broke from the kiss for just long enough to say and then our mouths joined again. My hand glided over her pubes and a finger slipped into the slick moistness of her excitement. I don’t know what I expected, but nothing so delightfully slippery and exciting. “Slowly and softly.” Said the voice in my ear as she broke from the kiss again. I followed her lead and did as I was told. I sensed her excitement growing by the change in her breathing. Then I felt her nails dig into my shoulders as she breathed. “Even slower. "Even gentler. "Yes. "Just like that.” Followed by a sigh and slight buckling of the knees. Seconds later a female voice shouted, “Hello in there.” “Oh shit. Shit. Shit. It’s Paula. She often pops round for a swim on hot days. Quick.” We scrambled into our clothes as quickly as possible, the mood having been completely destroyed by our imminent discovery. As soon as we could we made our way outside, somewhat sheepishly. To my horror the discarded swim suits had been neatly folded and placed on a sun-lounger. Paula pointed at them accusingly! “Jenna, these were completely dry! Your hair is wet! You don’t have to be Einstein to work out what’s been going on. You just be bloody careful if you’re going to play with big girls toys. I’m not ready to be aunty Paula yet.” She turned and marched off. Paula’s words hit home hard. “I don’t want to be aunty Paula.” I am quite sure she didn’t, but I’m even more certain that Jenna didn’t want to be a mother and I certainly didn’t want to be a father. In that era it would have been a ‘had to get married’ situation and my education was far from complete. Frankly it would have been a complete disaster for both of us, such were the attitudes of the day. What if Jenna had let me go a bit further and had been willing to actually have sex? There is no doubt that my young cock had definitely got the message. Could I have resisted if it had been on offer? We had both been pretty wound up, and I suspect that mother nature would have had her way. Erections don’t think! Say we had just actually done it. Just imagine! The wait for the next period. What if it didn’t come. Was she always regular, or could she sometimes just be late? These are not subjects we talked about in those days, unless of course, you had to. What about the future? Was it possible we were going to get into that situation again? Two sexually mature people playing with fire, or even Russian roulette. Nature pretty well guaranteed that we were going to hit the jackpot sooner or later. Not that I’m assuming Jenna would even allow it, but what if? I resolved to get hold of some condoms, or johnnies as they were known then, but how. We lived very remotely. The nearest village was within range but the pharmacist was a family friend, probably of her family as well. Even if I made sure he wasn’t serving, could I face putting 'a packet of three’ on the counter in front of his female assistant. I’d die of embarrassment. I could just imagine the conversation later in the chemist shop. “You know so and so’s lad?” “Yea, him.” “Well he came in today and bought some, ahem, Durex.” “No! I wonder where he plans to use them.” “Well there’s not much option down his way.” “You mean 'her’?” “Well, who else?” “She wouldn’t though, would she? She’s such a well brought up girl and I doubt she’d do it before she was at least engaged.” The cerebral cinema ran on and got more and more embarrassing with every imagined exchange. No I would have to make my purchase elsewhere. As luck would have it, my mother wanted to go shopping in a big town, well away from where we were known. She did show some surprise when I expressed an interest and wanted to go with her. Normally shopping and teenage boys do not go hand in hand. We arrived, parked the car, and arranged to meet again in a couple of hours. I eventually singled out a chemist shop as my target and walked in. I had only been round the shelves once to try to locate the 'johnnies’ when a very attractive young lady came up and said. “Can I help you?” Oh fuck! I can hardly say I want a packet of johnnies. She’ll know I’m planning to: well yes, to fuck. She was young, she was pretty. I didn’t have time to register her ring fingers but probably not married and therefore almost certainly a virgin, and I wanted to buy contraceptives. The embarrassment. So I bought a tube of toothpaste and left. While I was paying I noticed the johnnies were all on the shelf behind the till, Durex, Featherlight and several others. OK, so maybe I’m going to have to actually ask! I don’t recall how many other chemists I checked out that day, but the answer was always the same. They were all kept behind the till, so I would definitely have to ask. I eventually located a chemist with a middle aged lady serving. I thought, she doesn’t know me and she’ll never see me again, so what’s the problem? I approached the till. “Yes, can I help?” Arggggg the agony of it! “A packet of featherlight please!” She turned round to 'that’ shelf and said. “Three or twelve?” Twelve? TWELVE? I’m a virgin. I’ve never used one before. Twelve, you must be joking. “Mmm three please.” She reached for the packet and, mercifully, popped it into a little brown paper bag just as the next customer reached the counter. Did she see? Oh this is so embarrassing! Everyone in the world seems to know that I am planning to have a fuck. Can they tell that it’s also going to be my first? Ironically I am not really 'planning’ to fuck. I am pretty sure that Jenna won’t allow it but, just in case, I’m prepared. Besides, how do I explain to her that I’ve got johnnies. The implication is surely that I am assuming she is 'that type of girl’ and would probably never speak to me again. Why is life so complicated? The summer rolled on and, in spite of being nearly caught by Paula, we enjoyed each other’s company at the pool and in the fields round about. Usually we stayed fully clothed or very nearly so, until one summer’s afternoon when we took a picnic to some nearby ruins. We spread a picnic blanket on the lush, un-mowed grass and ate our sandwiches. As the heat of the sun and the effect of the food took its toll we lolled in the grass talking about this and that and nothing very much. “When do you head off for uni?” Was the reality check she came up with. “September.” I replied as I glanced across at her. Our eyes locked. She smiled showing her dimples to maximum effect. I leaned towards her, she leaned towards me, our eyes were still locked together as our lips met. It was one of those glorious kisses that went on for ages, tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths, hands starting to wander, exploring the secrets of each other’s bodies. Palms running over the smooth curve of firm buttocks. Hoping to explore under a T shirt. Success! A soft warm breast. The pressure on the front of my trousers as her hand stroked my obvious erection. My hand made its way up her skirt. Hers found my zip. I ran my hand up her thigh all the way to the elasticised leg of her knickers. She unzipped me. My finger slid inside, to be greeted by the warm slipperiness of a sexually excited woman. My cock sprang free from its cotton prison. Then suddenly it all stopped as she broke the silence. “Paula’s right you know. "We must be careful. "I really want to do it with you. I want you to be my first. "But we can’t unless…” “Unless I get 'something’?” I filled in the blank space. “Yes, until then.” I was way too embarrassed to admit I had 'something’ already, although my throbbing cock and millions of years of evolution were aching to satisfy the urge to reproduce. “I will.” I whispered, relieved that the problem of why I had johnnies had gone away, but with a raging erection that had only one cure. We petted. We snogged. We explored each other. I rubbed her how she had showed me at the pool house that day. She played with my cock, pulling the foreskin back and forth really gently. It just got sexier and sexier. Then the inevitable happened. I ejaculated. “Next time.” She said. “I want to feel that inside. To know what it feels like.” “Next time.” I repeated. We tidied up, trying our best to remove the semen from her skirt. We eventually hit on the idea of coke. It would leave a worse mark and so be a reason for the skirt being in the wash after only one wear. I went home and put the pack of Featherlight back in its hiding place, keeping one tucked under my pillow for a test run later. I read and re read the instructions. Tear open the foil packet. Check the condom has the ridge on the outside. Pinch the tip closed to make room for the semen. Roll it on to the penis. After sex, withdraw immediately holding the condom on the penis. Discard the used condom. When I went to bed I removed the packet from under my pillow. A few thoughts of Jenna’s soft breast and wet panties had me hard in no time. I pinched the end and rolled it on. So far so good! A few gentle strokes later while reminiscing about Jenna’s gloriously slippery sex and bingo. A condom full of semen. I now saw why you pinched the end, it was distended with the evidence of my pleasure. I removed it and made my way to the loo, chucked it in and flushed. Luckily I waited to check all was well because it floated! It was still there! Several more attempts produced the same result. I cannot leave it there! In the end I fished it out, wrapped it in a few sheets of loo roll and tried again: success! This learning curve was getting very steep. Jenna and I decided to set a date, and a scene. There was to be no fumbling about in the back seat of a car, we were planning to do it properly, in a bed, but where, how, when? I carried my remaining two johnnies with me whenever we were together, just in case. We had several false starts, usually abandoned for fear of discovery, and once because our foreplay was just more stimulation than I could handle. It’s hard to recall just how stimulating it is having your cock rubbed by a gorgeous, near naked, girl that you are planning to have sex with, while enjoying the slippery sensation of your hand between her thighs. I didn’t know it was called premature ejaculation at that time, I just know it got so bloody exciting that I came before I even got the johnny on. Eventually the great day came. We knew we would be undisturbed for a couple of hours, so we made our way to Jenna’s room. We cleared her bed of all the usual trappings of adolescence and fell into a deep embrace. There was fumbling for sure. I couldn’t master her bra catch, even once I had managed to remove her T shirt. She came to the rescue and snapped it open allowing my probing hand access to her pert, warm, breasts. Her skirt was easier and the elastic didn’t put up much resistance. Now she is lying on top of the bedding clad only in her white cotton panties. I gazed on in awe, and I have to confess to having a fetish about white cotton panties to this day, they feature in many of my fantasies. I managed to strip down to my pants, very inelegantly, as we snogged and caressed each other. She allowed my hand to slip over her navel and into the waist band. Heaven. My hand continued its journey southwards. Hair. More heaven. As I continued my lust fuelled journey, my finger slid into the most divide between her legs. This is more than heaven. She meanwhile had eased my pants over my erection, very carefully, ever mindful of the previous disaster. Gently and deliciously we removed each other’s final item of clothing. My memory of sliding off her white cotton panties, as she lifted her bottom willingly off the bed to help, and my hand sensing the taut flesh of her naked buttocks, is one of my most cherished. Eventually we were both totally naked, but this time with the express intention of having sex. “Let’s do it.” She whispered in my ear, “I want to feel it inside.” I fumbled with the foil packet. It was much harder to put on lying next to a naked girl than it had been in my room. I managed to remember to squeeze the end to make room for the inevitable, and returned to our embrace. Somehow my totally inexperienced cock knew exactly what to do. I rolled gently on top of her and as my cock found that sacred space between her legs I felt it slide gently in. There is nothing sexier than that moment. The sliding sensation, as every nerve in your cock prepares for the climax.. Then I felt it start. Oh no! I managed only a few gentle thrusts, then I came! Shit! Shit! Shit. I continued, as best I could, with a rapidly softening cock, but clearly it was not the success that modern porn films would have you believe, besides I had to get the johnny off before….well just before. We kissed and cuddled some more and, much to my delight and her careful handling, Harry came back to life. Much more confident now, I started to rub her very gently as she massaged Harry. Harry hardened readily as I enjoyed the sensations of stroking her moist, excited, free flowing, sex. I reached for the last foil packet. Tore it open. Checked it for inside out or right side in. Pinched the end and rolled it on. This time there was no disaster. Harry slipped easily into her moist haven. She gasped as I started a rhythmic motion in and out. The sensation was just totally beyond anything I had ever experienced. We locked eyes and stared into each other’s souls. It wasn’t a stud performance, but it wan’t a disaster either. We grew up at that moment, we both became the sexual beings that destiny had mapped out for us. We didn’t just fuck, we actually made love. By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica

Summer of ’65: Part 1 English boarding school boy shares a lake, and more. By Slowandeasy47 - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The closeted life of a boy’s boarding school in Yorkshire, with its Dickensian regime, and early morning runs, had ill prepared me for contact with the opposite sex. I knew the physical differences of course, Harrison Marks and Health and Efficiency were the sex educators for boys in the early nineteen sixties. So what did we know way back then. Well, Health and Efficiency had ensured we knew about breasts, that they came in different shapes and sizes and they almost always involved the throwing of a beach ball at some nudist camp. How he ever managed to get those pictures in our climate completely eluded us but that didn’t matter. We had pictures of breasts, or tits as we called them. The word boobs was years away in the future. It was the lower half of the pictures that failed us, the men always had their backs to the camera and the girls just had a uniform, airbrushed area between their legs. Not a pubic hair in sight, and certainly no hint of a vagina. Did girls grow pubic hair? We didn’t know for sure, and what went on between their legs was a complete mystery. Actually, in the mid sixties, that was pretty irrelevant as our interest was focused on breasts. We all longed to touch one, to feel its texture and marvel at it, was it soft and squishy, or was it firm and hard? The thought of actual sex was still considered as something girls would allow only once they were married, as an unwanted pregnancy was going to ruin both your lives. It certainly never occurred to us that girls might enjoy it. By now you must be getting a picture of the public face of sex in the early sixties. Among teenage boys there was no knowledge, no porn worthy the name, not even soft core magazines, and definitely no internet. We hoped for a fumble at a party, and the absolute height of our ambition was to be allowed to feel inside her panties, but that was less likely than a moon landing then. Actually just to touch the thigh above the silken top of her stockings was the stuff of many a masturbation fantasy and masturbation was something we were quite expert at. Term had just ended and I was looking forward to the long summer holiday in my new home. While I was at school my parents had moved to a remote corner of the countryside, six miles from the nearest village and with very few other houses around. It was not only remote, it was actually an island. It all sounds very Robinson Crusoe but it wasn’t really like that. Several other families lived on the island which was joined to the mainland by a causeway. There was plenty to explore and do, including an old monastery, rabbits to shoot at, if not actually hit, boats to mess about in and so on. So life for a teenage boy was pretty good and it was about to get a whole lot better. Walking over the hills one sunny afternoon I was hailed by a female voice. “Shot anything then?” “No,” I replied. “I’m much better at hitting bottles than rabbits.” And that is how I first met Jenna. Jenna was short and petite with a beguiling smile that produced dimples in both cheeks. Her very dark hair framed her boyish face and her eyes sparkled. I, of course, was just about completely tongue tied. This apparition was a girl! A girl who was chatting to me as if we came from the same planet, which in those days, we most certainly did not. Anyway, somehow I got over the shock of talking to a real girl. We introduced ourselves and over the next few weeks actually became friends. We walked over the hills together, boated together and spent a lot of time in each other’s company. We were the only two youngsters, of our age group, for miles around. Late in July, Jenna suggested we take the boat to one of the many other islands for a picnic. Most of these islands could be walked around in an hour, had ruins of long forgotten farms and were simply fun to explore. A little more Robinson Crusoe, if you like. It was a stunning day with clear blue skies and the promise of being a real scorcher. I naturally, took a big towel and my swimming trunks along with our fairly rudimentary picnic. We got into our craft, which was little more than a fibreglass rowing boat with a tiny outboard engine, and put putted for about fifteen minutes to the largest of the nearby islands. I, of course, as the boy, sat at the back in control while Jenna lolled about in the bow trailing her hand in the water. I tried not to look. I tried so hard not to look, but there was an awful lot of leg on display right up to the frayed edges of her skimpy shorts, and my mind set about wondering what went on just out of my sight. What was it that was only just hidden by those shorts? I realised my thoughts were running away with me as I felt the stirring of an erection. Oh no! Fuck it, please no. Not now. Not here. So I looked around at the scenery, the water, actually anything that would take my mind of those silken thighs. It worked: just, and by the time we reached our destination my penis was behaving itself. This could have been such a disaster as Jenna was my only friend and she was really good company. She was also very self assured, which I put down to her being a couple of yeas older than me. We ‘explored’ the island, wandering through the deserted ruins, wondering who lived here, when and what they did for a living. The island was so small it can hardly have provided an income. We ate our rudimentary picnic in the sun, sheltered from the breeze coming up the lough, by the corner of a ruined barn and chatted idly about nothing in particular. It was a hot sultry afternoon and I don’t remember who made the suggestion, but it was agreed that a swim would be a really good idea, to cool off. The lough was hardly known for its warm waters as most of it was replaced each high tide by water straight out of the ocean, but it would certainly cool us. So we went for a swim, after modestly changing into our swimming kit with the aid of large towels and convenient walls. The water was cold: bloody cold, hardly surprising in mid July, but what had seemed like a great idea quickly turned into something of a torture session. We swam around for a while and, as expected, the water was freezing. “Bit refreshing!” Said Jenna, as she made a few powerful strokes away from the rocky shore, “in fact a little too refreshing for me.” And she struck out for the shallows again. I, not being conscious of any etiquette, got to the shore first. She struggled a bit over the larges pebbles and, as she passed me, I couldn’t help noticing how much her nipples were sticking out. I’d never heard of this phenomenon before and certainly never witnessed it. I was fascinated: too fascinated. “Hey! Stop staring at my tits will you.” “I wasn’t.” I lied, somewhat unconvincingly. “You were too! I saw you. Eyes out on stalks!” “No really.” I blustered trying vainly to cover my embarrassment. I had grown very fond of Jenna, in a brotherly way. OK I admit it: I fancied her but I wasn’t about to ruin our friendship by being stupid. I loved spending time with her: she was so worldly, such fun to be with and now I was in danger of spoiling it all just by ogling her tits. Her rather delightful, and obviously delicious looking, tempting to touch, young tits. “Actually, I was. I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise. I’m really sorry. I’m such a wolly.” “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal. It’s not as if I was naked or you were peeking at me getting changed or anything.” That, of course, sent the image of her standing there dripping wet totally naked, dancing through my brain. What were those lovely little breasts like to ogle or even to touch? What went on between her legs? What did a vagina look like in real life? My day dream would have had a disastrous effect on my cock had the water not been so cold. I climbed out and we dried ourselves off. We spread our towels out, side by side, on the long grass in order to warm up with a bit of sunbathing. “Anyway, it’s natural to be curious,” she continued, “it wouldn’t be normal not to look.” The relief at being let off the hook was enormous and I stammered something inane before she came out with. “So what do you call a man looking at a naked girl?” She continued. The brazenness of the question took me by surprise and I failed to register that it was a joke. “Don’t know.” “Anything you like! He’s not listening.” She chortled at her own wit and I joined in. She lay face down on her towel and unhooked the top of her bikini. This was too much, I immediately rolled on to my stomach so as not to reveal my growing excitement. “No peeking at my tits now.” “No of course not.” “Lying bastard!” “Jenna?” “Yea?” “How come you’re so confident and relaxed?” “What do you mean?” “Well you just caught me ogling you and now you’re making it a bit of a joke.” “Probably because you are a bit prudish.” “Prudish! Me?” “Yes you. You were ogling my tits and then tried to deny it. I’ve got tits, you haven’t, you’re curious. So what’s so wrong with that. Don’t think I haven’t taken a peek at the front of your swimming trunks from time to time. Anyway I know things about boys from Paula.” “Paula?” “Paula is my big sister. She’s six years older than me and we chat. You know girl stuff.” “Mmmm?” “Paula got married a year ago and we still chat about girl stuff.” “Mmmmm?.” “I’ll tell you more, if you tell me stuff about you.” “What sort of stuff?” “Well I’ll tell you about my chats with Paula if you promise to keep it a secret for the rest of your life and if you tell me, absolutely honestly, the answer to the next questions. OK?” “Sure.” I said feeling a little vulnerable but a too curious to turn down such an offer. “Paula told me that the doctor gave her the pill just before she got married and that when they went on honeymoon they did it all the time. First thing in the morning, last thing at night and several times in between. She said the feelings were fantastic and much better than just touching yourself.” I am lying on my stomach, next to a pretty girl who is, at best, half naked describing her sister’s sex life. The tension was nearly unbearable. “So my question is. When you are, you know, excited and touching yourself. I mean rubbing your thingy, what do you think about?” Shocked! And trapped! She had just asked me about my fantasies, and I had agreed to play a truth game. “Do I have to answer?” I said, playing for time. “Of course you do. You promised. That was the bargain.” I summoned up my courage with all my strength. “Mostly breasts.” I said with a dry mouth. “You naughty boy. I bet you are going to rub yourself tonight and I bet my tits will feature in your fantasy.” “Sorry, but you did ask.” Ducking what could be a very awkward moment. “Paula says she rubs Dave when she’s on the curse. He plays with her tits while she rubs his cock and…….er by the way what do you call it? Your cock, your dick or what?” “Harry.” I said the first word that entered my head. She burst out laughing. “HARRY! You call it HARRY!” More peels of laughter. “No not really, that was just a joke. I suppose cock or prick usually.” “Well from now on it’s Harry to me.” And she dissolved into laughter again. “Just think of the fun I can have with that. I can say 'How is Harry today?’ Anytime, anywhere and only the two of us will know that I’m talking about your cock. That’s priceless!” “It was supposed to be a joke. You were telling me about Paula.” “Yea, well she rubs his 'Harry’.” More laughter, “till he,……….you know,………. Jizes then touches herself until she’s satisfied. So next question. How often do you play with Harry?” “What?” “You heard. How often do you play with Harry! You have had two bits of information so I get two questions. Out with it: how often?” “Quite a lot.” “Quite a lot is not a number. You promised me an answer. Now give.” “Well, probably most days.” “Oh good, I’m normal then.” “What!” “Me too. So it’s normal. I thought I might be over doing it, but it’s such a delicious feeling I just can’t resist.” This was getting out of control. I was having a conversation, with a lovely girl, both half naked, and we were discussing our masturbation habits: bizarre. “Have you ever sunbathed in the nude?” I was definitely not ready for this question. “No, I haven’t.” “Well you really out to. It’s such a wonderful feeling having the sun on your bare skin, particularly your bum. I do it all the time by our pool. "We could do it now, staying on our stomachs of course. I mean you have a bum and I have a bum. Bums are just bums after all, not particularly interesting.” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I croaked, lying on my now full blown erection thinking that Jenna’s bum would be far from 'not very interesting.’ “Cowardy, cowardy custard. I tell you what, I’ll take my bottoms off first if you promise me, on you honour, you will do it too.” And she slipped her thumbs into her bikini bottoms and eased them over her buttocks, such taught, firm, exercised, firm buttocks, and somehow got them off without revealing anything more intimate. “Your turn!” “Hang on. I never agreed to this.” “Well you didn’t disagree: so you agreed. Now off with them or I’ll tell Paula what a spoil sport you are.” This was my first introduction to the somewhat woolly area of female logic. I knew I had agreed to no such thing, but she was lying there naked, admittedly face down, but naked, and I found the idea very stimulating, and so did my errant cock, who found the whole experience extremely erotic. I followed her example and slipped my trunks down to my knees, having struggled to get the waist band over the rather obvious protrusion. I shifted sideways, back towards her, to complete the task and dropped onto my stomach as quickly as possible: stark naked and with the firmest, most rigid erection of my young life. “Good, isn’t it?” She said and I had to admit that the warmth of the sun on my bum was a truly delicious feeling: so wickedly naughty. “You know what happens next, don’t you?” By this time I was getting truly concerned as to what might happen next. A few years later and with more experience, I would have been delighted with this situation, but this was my first encounter with a naked girl and I have to admit I was petrified, but in a most enjoyable way. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “We go skinny dipping!” My jaw must have fallen a foot because she burst out laughing. “Oh your face! What a picture! Only joking, but the look on your face was priceless. I told you you were a prude.” Before I could muster my thoughts I fell straight into the trap. The words “I am not a prude.” Escaped my lips just as I realised what I had said. “Prove it!” “How?” “Show me Harry,” she chortled. “I will not!” “Prude!” “Well you’re a prude too, lying there face down.” I retorted. “Not at all. I’ll roll over if you roll over!” And I’d just fallen into another trap but it was my turn to seize the advantage. “You first!” I thought I’d gained the upper hand, but it was short lived. “No both together. On the count of three we both roll right over, as quickly as we can, back onto our tums. There will hardly be time to see anything: OK?” “Er……” “Prude!” “No. No. OK.” “One, two.” “No, stop. Stop. I’m not ready. Give me a second or two. Er……OK” “One, two, THREE!” The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime and are emblazoned on my memory for ever. The swiftest of rolls presented me with a view of my first real pair of tits. Oh such beautiful, magnificent tits. Small, pert, little tits, that were to become my favourite shape and size for ever. Such is the power of that first encounter. A much more impressive surprise however, was the mass of pubic hair, dark brown, curly hair in a perfect triangle, that concealed the secrets at the join in her thighs. How I managed to register this much information in the time available is a credit to the power of human observation, but register it did. I was so intrigued by the whole spectacle that I temporarily forgot about my own nakedness. My teenage penis sprang free from the safety of its lair between my stomach and the ground and with all the enthusiasm that only a teenage penis can muster, pointed proudly skywards to the full scrutiny of Jenna’s curious gaze. The exposure, mercifully, was short lived as I completed the roll over on to my stomach, trapping my errant member once again between the ground and my stomach. Jenna was the first to react with a characteristic chortle, but my teenage brain was still trying to compute what it had seen. The flashes of breast and pubic hair caused all my reproductive urges to go into overdrive and without so much as a touch a familiar feeling mounted in my groin. I knew what was about to happen and had no way of controlling it. The feeling intensified rapidly and I ejaculated violently into my towel. I still remember the intensity. I had had orgasms before, but only through masturbating. This was on a whole new level: the sensation was indescribable and within seconds my cock, having done the job nature intended it to do, shrank back to its flaccid state. You may recall that Jenna and I had taken a small boat to a nearby island for a picnic. Jenna is older than I, and much more worldly wise, because I had been closeted in a boys boarding school. Jenna was the first person from 'planet girl’ I had really ever got to know. Somehow we had wound up sunbathing naked, face down of course, when Jenna trapped me into exposing myself while she did the same. By the time I was face down on the towel again I had seen my first real pair of tits, my first glimpse of female pubic hair and the whole experience had been too much for my teenage brain. I had ejaculated into my towel, with some considerable force, and was now lying on my flaccid cock in a damp patch of semen. “Are you OK?” She asked. “Yea fine,” I lied. “You just look worried all of a sudden.” “No I’m fine, honestly.” “I suppose we ought to be getting back.” And she wriggled into her bikini bottoms, fastened her top behind her back, stood up, picked up her towel and flicked me on the bum with it. “Ouch!” “Come on then, get Harry tucked away, and let’s go.” I managed to get decent somehow, without exposing my obvious problem, and we puttered back towards home in our tiny craft. “That was a great afternoon.” She said,“ I really enjoyed it, and it was such fun to see your face when I suggested skinny dipping!” “Yes, well I’m glad you weren’t serious.” “Are you really?” She said with that cheeky smile that showed off her dimples. “I bet you’d really enjoy it if you tried it. I do it all the time at home, it’s such a delicious feeling. Just like the nude sunbathing but ten times better.” “Maybe next time.” I said with more confidence than I felt. “Ha ha!” Was all she said as we pulled in to the slipway where the boat was kept. We tidied up, turned the little boat upside down against the hedge to keep the rain out, and put the tiny outboard motor in the boat house. As we said our goodbyes she leaned forwards and gave me a peck on the cheek. I think I even blushed. “I really did enjoy it,” were her parting words. To be continued.. By Slowandeasy47 for Literotica

Home for Horny Monsters: A Gargoyle With A Fetish - Abella isn’t like other gargoyles. Mike Has A Dilemma.  (part 5) By  writerannabelle.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Mike gazed at the shy creature in wonder, finding himself once more in a predicament. With Tink, it had been about protecting her from the unknown, a risk he had taken for the greater good. Now, however, it was about his own salvation. Abella had a muscular, almost reptilian build to her. “You would do that for me?” He asked. “It is my duty,” Abella said, her voice a whisper. “It may be your duty, but I don’t believe in making others do what they don’t want to do. I would rather risk the lightning than feel like a bag of shit every time I look in the mirror.” Abella muttered something that was lost to another blast of thunder. “I didn’t catch that,” Mike told her. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” Abella whispered. “It’s that I’m afraid that you won’t.” “Wait, what?” Mike could tell he was missing a piece. “I have a…” Abella sighed. “The other gargoyles thought I was weird because I have a human fetish.” Mike almost laughed, nearly broke that stillness between them. A human fetish? Was that like a reverse furry? “A human fetish.” Mike said, and Abella nodded. “It’s why I came here. I enjoy being around humans and interacting with them, something that is forbidden in the outside world. Gargoyles are a terrible species, content with killing for fun. They are very territorial, and last I heard, many were either wiped out by man, or in hiding as statues. I don’t wish such a life upon me. I enjoy the smile on a child, or the way a human woman tosses her hair. I like how smooth and soft your skin feels, and…” “Have you ever been with a human in that way?” Mike asked, kneeling next to her. “No.” Abella stared into the distance. “I’ve been too afraid to try it. How does one go about finding a man who can see me as enough of a human woman that the rest of my body doesn’t bother him?” “That’s easy.” Mike stroked Abella’s stony curls, tilting her face toward his. “You see, I struggle with being around my own kind, and I’m rapidly discovering that what I like is outside the norm.” He pressed his lips to hers, marveling at how hard they felt beneath his. Pulling back, his eyes met hers. “There’s a storm coming, you know.” He let his hands run along the edges of her wings, pulling them away from her body to reveal naked flesh beneath. Her breasts were smooth, yet strangely supple. Her lack of nipples threw him for a moment, but her breath seized in her chest as he squeezed her stony breasts. Even with all his strength, he was only able to compress them slightly beneath his fingers. “This is okay?” She asked him, stroking his stiffening cock through his pants. “It is,” he answered, running his hands down to her hips. She didn’t have a belly button either. Sometime later, he would ask her more about gargoyles anatomy. For now, he kissed her stone skin, grateful for the little sighs she made. He had no way of knowing if she could even feel them otherwise. He explored her body with his hands, marveling at the musculature of her thighs. Thunder boomed again in the distance. Mike looked back, watching the thunderheads building. “You know, I would ordinarily be in favor of doing this slower, but do you mind if I hurry things up a little?” Abella was panting. “You’ll have to be on top. I might crush you, otherwise.” Fair enough, Mike thought, spreading her legs with his hands. The folds of her vulva formed a triangle instead of a normal slit. Tracing his fingers along the edges, he found that the stone was softer here, like thick leather. Abella fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, gasping as his dick sprung free of his fly. “I’ve never seen one so close before,” she told him, stroking it experimentally. “Just… don’t squeeze it so hard, okay?” Abella nodded, relaxing her grip. He licked his fingers, running them around her creases in a search pattern. Her vagina was also triangle shaped, and it took some effort to slide two fingers into her- he was grateful to discover that she was very wet just inside her folds. He had no idea how he was going to fuck her without some sort of lubrication. “Please,” Abella begged him. “I want to feel a human dick inside of me. Do it!” Mike pulled his fingers free. Her bodily fluids were dark, like oil, and smelled like black licorice. He gave himself a few strokes and pressed his cock against her opening, marveling at how it unfolded for him as he pushed into her. “Oh. Oh. OH!” Abella trapped Mike with her muscular legs, pulling him in tight as she rubbed herself with her hand. She tugged at her folds, revealing a ruby clitoris the size of a Robin’s egg. Mike stared at her as she did all the work, using her wings as a lever to lift her hips and lower them. He did his best to thrust into her, but she had him pinned in place. “Loosen your grip,” he said, slapping her thighs to get her attention. Abella ignored him at first, but finally caught on when Mike let out a grunt of pain. She was crushing his hips, her stony legs bruising the skin on his sides. She slowed the pace, allowing him room to maneuver. “This is so hot,” she whispered, touching his chest with her free hand. “I can feel how warm your skin is when you’re inside me, Mike. Human beings are so warm, and so soft, and-Nngh!” Her teeth clenched and she bucked against him, slamming the cliff with her back and scattering tiny rocks with her fluttering wings. Her excitement drove him closer to the edge, and he put his hands on her smooth breasts, pummeling her as hard as he could. He pulled all the way out, teasing her triangular slit with the head of his cock briefly before pushing back in. Every time he did it, Abella gasped for air as his balls slapped against her cold buttocks. “Oh shit!” Mike tensed, and then came. His eyes wide, he felt it, a sudden shift in energy between them. Abella pulled him close, gasping and muttering in French as he went limp in her arms. Tiny drops of rain pelted his face. He was laying between her breasts, a stupid smile on his face. She was running her fingers through his hair. “Did it work?” He asked her, catching his breath. “Only one way to find out,” she told him. He pulled free of her, watching her vagina close up, trapping all of his semen inside her. She stood, her wings cast defiantly into the stormy wind that was barreling down on them in the distance. She jumped from the ledge, wings spread wide, circling out over the valley. Mike fumbled with his pants, zipping them shut as she returned. “We must hurry,” she informed him, flapping her wings so that she hovered above him. “I am already weakening.” “Let’s do this, then.” He grabbed her ankles, and she clutched his wrists gently with her feet. Pulling him out into the sky, she beat slow, lazy circles as they climbed, the cliff’s edge becoming visible once more. Once they were high enough, she soared toward the greenhouse itself, a distorted wall of glass that climbed into the sky until it disappeared from view. The Mandragora vines were moving about a different part of the cliffs now, still searching for its prey. They shot overhead the Mandragora, crashing through one of the previously broken panels. Abella and Mike crashed into the yard, tumbling head over heels until they came to a rest, both of them staring into the darkening afternoon skies of Earth. Firing Squad “Ow, fuck!” Mike winced as Naia inspected the large bruise forming above his hip bone where Abella had squeezed him with her stony thighs. The Mandragora plant had actually injured him less than the gargoyle had, surprisingly enough. Save for some scrapes on his hands (well, and not being eaten), he was fine. “Yeah, that will sting for a while.” Naia placed a kiss on it. “You had me so worried! I’ve never seen the Mandragora do that before. You’re going to need to feed it pretty soon.” “Yeah, that’s right. Meat and cheese and wine. We’re going on a picnic next Wednesday.” Mike informed her. “Oh, really? I think that’s a great idea,” Naia said. “She’ll love that!” “Wait, the plant…” Mike felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, even though he was standing naked in the fountain. “It can…it can…” “I’m just kidding, goofball. The Mandragora can’t leave the greenhouse.” Naia glanced over at Abella. She sat in the water, her wings pulled close to her body, watching the tiny water spheres circle the fountain, glowing with their own inner light. The sun was setting on the other side of the house, and the garden was cast into darkness, save for Naia’s magic spheres. “You need to be more careful, Abella. Mike isn’t made of steel.” “I know,” Abella grumbled, flicking the water with her finger. “Felt really good though.” “That part I get,” Naia agreed. “And I’m grateful you got to him before he was eaten. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t picked that little cubby to hole up in.” “I was tired of washing off bird shit,” Abella said, popping a bubble with her talon. It reformed on the other side of the fountain. “If I had known Emily was going to croak, I wouldn’t have come down here. It wouldn’t have mattered if the Mandragora hadn’t broken loose.” “And that’s the peril of living here,” Naia agreed. “The Mandragora wouldn’t have broken out if Tink had spotted the cracked windows. Tink wouldn’t have slept for so long if a new guardian had been selected in a reasonable amount of time. I’m actually kind of worried about what other surprises await us as we discover more of the house. I can’t imagine that the Mandragora is the only potential danger.” “There’s an easy solution,” Abella said. “We need to make sure that someone is with him at all times. Currently, any time he is outside the house, he is under my care.” “You can come inside,” Mike offered. “There’s no reason for you to be out here.” “There is, actually. I’m a living statue-not only am I likely to damage the interior of the house, but my kind hates being indoors. I come inside only for emergencies.” “Oh.” Mike sat on the edge of the fountain. The water was warm, heated by Naia’s magic. “If guardianship is so important, then why didn’t Emily have something set up in advance?” Naia shrugged, her greenish-blue hair shifting along the curves of her breasts. She was wearing her simple gown currently, which Mike actually preferred. It gave her some wonderful cleavage to look at. “It seems like there was a reason, but it’s been gobbled up for me. I remember arguing about it with her, but there are definitely gaps.” “Which means it involves another monster.” Mike frowned at the water. “It seems like inheriting this home in itself is like a trial of sorts. If I’m not qualified for the job, something could kill me.” Naia and Abella exchanged looks. “Someone with him at all times,” they both said. “Well, that just means Tink needs to stick with me when I’m indoors,” Mike said. “Anytime you go exploring, anyway. Currently, you’ve restricted your explorations to out here, and unless you go back in the greenhouse, you should be fine.” ‘And I need to feed the Mandragora, apparently. Any other plants living in there I should worry about?“ Naia shrugged, but Abella nodded. “Yes, actually. The forest inside the greenhouse is an extension of the house. The plants being grown in there are there for a reason. Think of it like a little herb garden, but with spell components. A wizard would kill for access to it- I imagine that there are things in there that might even be extinct in the wild.” “Wait, wizards? Those are real too?” Mike looked to Naia, who just rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” “They aren’t as prevalent in those pigwarts books,” Naia told him. “Hogwarts,” Mike corrected her. “Whatever. Last I heard, the wizards of this realm were extremely limited in number. Less than forty total since Merlin sealed away magic for humans. Maybe one person a century figures out how to do magic, and usually the others track him down and kill him.” “Holy shit.” Mike shook his head. “That’s insane.” “Now you know why monsters and magic items are so coveted. For some, it’s the only way to gain any true power.” Naia tilted her head at Abella. “Gargoyles are impervious to most normal means. Neither blade nor flame can scratch their hides, and they are extremely strong. There are few places in the world that could protect you from a gargoyle attack. With just Abella at your side, you could have your enemies killed with little fear of recourse.” “Well, not that I really do that now,” Abella added. “I’m bound to the house. Unless such a task involves the long term protection of this place, I can’t fly very far from here without feeling a strong urge to return.” “So, if I was in trouble a mile from here, you would come for me?” Mike asked. “If I knew you were in trouble, potentially. It would need to be a situation dire enough that I knew your chances of survival were slim.” Abella shrugged, her stony breasts shifting. “I’m more like a bouncer than anything else.” “How do you know what a bouncer is?” Mike asked. “Please. I’m not that sheltered.” Abella popped another bubble. “I have a people fetish. I watch lots of TV.” “Outside?” Mike asked. “Emily would leave the window open for me sometimes,” Abella said. “It’s not like I need sleep or anything.” “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the house?” Mike asked. “Gargoyles have phenomenal hearing,” Abella told him. “If it’s quiet enough, I can hear a heartbeat from twenty feet.” “Whoa.” Mike said. “Speaking of which, Tink is looking for you. I can hear her calling your name.” Abella informed him. “She’s probably worried. I’ve been gone all day.” Mike walked in the back door listening carefully. He heard noise from the kitchen, and found Tink digging through a junk drawer full of random crap. “Hey there.” Tink jumped at the sound of his voice. Her body was covered in dirt and grime, and even cobwebs. “Where have you been?” “Checking pipes,” Tink informed him, beaming a smile. “Easy fix.” “What are you looking for in there?” Mike asked. “Tink look for money.” “Why do you need money?” The doorbell chimed, echoing through the house. Mike stared at Tink, who stared back. “Who is that?” Mike asked. “Pizza.” Tink replied, scratching at a greasy smudge on her face. “How did you order a pizza?” “Tink use magic screen. Type in pizza.” Mike stared at the little goblin, mouth open. “My laptop was locked. How did you get in?” Tink tapped the goggles on her head. “Tink order extra good pizza.” The door chimed again. Mike grabbed his hair in frustration, then pointed at Tink “Stay out of sight. We’ll have the internet talk later.” Tink shrugged, walking out of the kitchen. Shaking his head, he ran to the front of the house, opening the door. Holding pizza in one hand and a two liter of soda in the other was Dana. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and tonight she wore a tight white top under her black jacket. The jacket was unzipped, revealing a large pair of breasts that had been forced together by a dark black bra that peeked out along the edges of her neckline, the same breasts that had sent him into Naia’s tub in the first place. Mike’s mouth went dry. “Hey!” Dana said, handing over the pizza. “How are things?” “Um, good?” Mike took the pizza in one hand. Dana was all smiles for him, and he felt that familiar nervousness hit him, a wave of anxiety across his whole body. “Uh, I didn’t, um, expect you so fast. Let me grab my wallet.” “Yeah, sure.” Mike backed into the house and was dismayed when Dana followed him inside “Whoa, this place is spooky!” Dana looked around at the furniture, which was still covered with white sheets. She pointed just off to the side of the stairs. “Does that Grandfather clock actually work?” She knelt down to examine the pendulum. The back of her pants slid down, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Dana opened the door of the clock, her jacket sliding up to reveal a tattoo along her lower back. “I, um…” Where had that clock come from? He couldn’t concentrate, staring at Dana’s exposed ass. “I’ll be right back.” He ran into the kitchen. Tink was busy staring at his laptop computer, which she had unlocked again. “Don’t touch anything on there,” he told her, setting the pizza down on the table. Grabbing his wallet, he walked back out to the main room to find Dana giving the pendulum inside the clock a push. The entryway filled with the soft sounds of moving gears. The old clock’s second hand started moving around the face of the clock. Dana’s face lit up in excitement. “That is so cool!” She declared. “You like clocks or something?” Mike asked. He held out a twenty, unsure what the total was. “Oh yeah. I’m going to school for mechanical engineering. I love stuff like this.” Dana took the money from him and dug into her pockets for change. Upstairs, Mike heard a loud splash in the bathroom. They both looked up. “What was that?” Dana asked. “Bad pipe. Trying to get it fixed is all. Go ahead, keep the change,” Mike told her. “Are you sure? Thank you!” Dana’s face lit up, and she hugged Mike. Her breasts were soft, pushing against his chest, and Mike felt a shiver as his body redirected blood flow to his dick. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry!” She said, her face turning red as she backed away, stuffing the money in her pocket. “I don’t normally do that, it’s just that you’ve been very generous, and I needed extra money for my car payment, and you’re so cu-“Dana’s mouth slammed shut, her face glowing brighter. "I’m sorry, I just-thank you.” “It’s okay. I remember what it’s like, working my way through school. I’m doing pretty well now, so just trying to pay it forward.” He stepped around her, opening the door. Dana stepped out onto the porch and Mike would have left her there, but Cecilia was sitting on the swing, gazing out into the yard. Mike walked onto the porch, keeping Dana from looking at the banshee. “So tell me more about your major.” “Not a lot to tell. Class during the day, labs on weekend mornings. I have this gig to help make ends meet with student loans and such. I’m the only girl in my program, so I deal with a lot of creeps.” Mike stayed just ahead of her, walking down the path to her car, hoping she wouldn’t look back. Cecilia seemed quite content on her swing, her hair fanning out around her as if she was storing up a massive charge. “Hey, if you need an extra hand fixing stuff around here, I would love to help out. My dad worked construction when I was growing up, so I’m pretty handy.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” They were at her car now, the glowing Pizza Palace marquee on her roof. She seemed reluctant to leave, but gave him a wave, the light from her GPS casting an eerie light on her face as she drove away. Mike let out a huge sigh, then ran back up the steps to the house. Cecilia wasn’t sitting anymore-instead she was staring inside the living room window. “Something is happening,” she informed him. “What’s happening?” Mike asked. Cecilia shrugged. You’re the Check Engine Light of the Damned, Mike thought to himself. He walked inside, staring upstairs and then toward the kitchen. Choosing the kitchen, he found Tink sitting at the table, clicking through websites on his laptop while eating her ill-gotten pizza. “We need to have a quick chat about… what the hell are you eating?” He was standing behind her, and Tink tilted her head up and back. “Tink order best pizza,” she informed him, holding up a slice for his inspection. Pepperoni, sausage, and pineapple adorned the top. The soda she had picked was orange, most of which was gone already. Only two slices of pizza were left in the box. “You really are a little monster, aren’t you?” Mike flicked a piece of pineapple off. “Tink find good stuff on magic screen,” Tink informed him. Looking over the top of her head, he saw that she was on Amazon and currently had nearly a hundred items in his cart. He leaned past her and opened it up to see what she was buying. “Tink!” He shouted, seeing that his total was in the thousands. “What do you think you are doing?” “Tink see good stuff for fix house.” She opened her mouth wide, dropping an entire piece of pizza in. She licked the grease off her fingers. “Tink has job to do.” “Okay, I see we’re going to have to talk about this right now.” Mike closed the laptop, eliciting protest from Tink. “The magic screen is off limits for the time being. Now I want you to-” A loud thud caused the light hanging above the table to sway from side to side. Tink slid her goggles on, and they both stared at the ceiling. “What was that?” Mike asked. “Tink not sure.” She touched the side of her goggles, rotating a dial Mike had never noticed. “Water in ceiling.” “Oh fuck.” Mike remembered the splashing noise from before. Running toward the stairs, he slid to a stop when he saw that the Grandfather clock was no longer there. “Fuck!” Running up the stairs, his feet squished on wet carpet as he neared the bedroom door. Shoving it open, he heard running water splashing the bathroom floor. “Naia?” “It’s about fucking time!” Naia appeared, splashing water everywhere. “I’ve been shouting this whole time.” “I didn’t hear you,” Mike told her. “The door was closed.” Tink slammed into Mike from behind, staring at the floor. “What’s wrong?” “There’s a fire elemental loose,” Naia told him. “Nasty little shit was sniffing around up here. I was trying to snuff him out, but he got away.” “What does it look like?” Mike asked. Walking into his room, he saw tiny scorch marks all along the wall. Looking closer, he saw that they were foot prints. “Like a lizard,” Naia told him. “Mike, it isn’t something from the house. It got in somehow, and it was laying low.” “For what reason?” He asked, looking under the bed. “To kill goblin husband,” Tink hissed, looking all around the room. She hit a hidden button on her goggles and several mechanical arms sprouted, each one with a different covered lens. Flicking them into place, she knelt by the door of the room. “Wait, to kill me?” “Possibly. This one was sniffing around like it was trying to find a place to hide. If it wanted to, it could just burn the whole house down, but they are great for assassinations.” “That doesn’t make sense,” Mike said, checking the window, but it was locked from the inside. He heard stomping above the room, followed by the sight of gray claws on the rain gutter. He opened the window up. “Abella, have you seen anything leave the house?” “No. I don’t know how it got in, either.” Abella leaned over the edge of the house. “If you chase it outside, I can take care of it.” “But where did it come from?” Mike asked. “Did it come in with the pizza girl?” “It was here long before that.” Naia informed him. “It must have come in with you earlier today.” “But that doesn’t…” he thought back to the spark he felt when he had taken the paperwork from Elizabeth. “Tink, check the trash downstairs.” “Tink go look.” The goblin grabbed a towel, dunking it in the bath. Wringing it out, she rolled it up, cracking it like a whip. “Mike stay here.” “Like hell I will.” Mike dunked his own towel. “I’m coming with you.” “You both need to be careful,” Naia said. “If it touches you, it may just immolate you to nothing but ash.” “Fantastic,” Mike muttered, following Tink out into the hall. Tink was walking down the hall, her eyes intent on something he couldn’t see. “Tracks everywhere,” Tink informed him. “Upstairs, downstairs. Elemental go in most rooms, but come back out.” Turning to go down the stairs, Mike noticed the wardrobe at the end of the hall. Walking toward it, he made to turn the latch. “No tracks there,” Tink told him, yanking on the band of his pants. “We go look downstairs.” Mike followed her, holding his towel ready as they stepped into the living room. Moving into the kitchen, Tink opened up the trash can. Reaching in, she pulled free what was left of the folder from Elizabeth. “Fire elemental come from here.” Mike didn’t have to ask how she knew. The folder was burnt. Looking into the can he saw the nest of ashes at the bottom. The elemental started as a spark, and he wondered if throwing away the offer had triggered it to burn and grow. “Okay, so what now?” Cecilia’s loud wail carried through the house, sending shivers up Mike’s spine. Tink covered her ears, frowning in the direction of her cries. Running toward the noise, they made it past the stairs and into one of the sitting rooms in the front of the house. Cecilia stood just outside the window, her mouth stretched wide and one hand pointing at the ceiling. Up above, Mike saw the angry creature standing on the ceiling, hissing in response. Mike and Tink walked further into the room as Cecilia drifted through the walls, her shrieks rising in volume. Mike put fingers in his ears, his eyes on the angry red lizard on the ceiling. It looked like it was made of lava, the air around it shimmering from the sheer heat of its skin. Its eyes blazed like fiery coals, hissing at Cecilia. It leapt off of the ceiling, passing straight through the banshee and colliding with the carpet. Spinning in place, leaving scorch marks on the hardwood, it spotted Mike. “Oh shit!” Mike yelled, raising his towel as the lizard came at him. It left a fiery trail on the floor, the hardwood burning up beneath it. It launched itself at him, and Mike dodged out of the way, letting it collide with a piece of furniture behind him. The white sheet burned up beneath it, the chair underneath igniting. The elemental burned its way through springs and fluff, the chair igniting, but the flames remaining local. Uncertain how to proceed, Mike watched the chair from the side, squatting down to see beneath it. The elemental charged him, crossing the space in a second. Leaping for his face, it was knocked out of the air by the fast crack of the wet towel from Tink. The elemental missed, crashing into the table behind Mike. Mike, acting fast, unfurled his towel and scooped up the elemental inside. It shrieked, steam rising from the towel. “Fuck!” Mike shouted, dropping his bundle from Hell. It was too hot to carry. Cecilia grabbed the bundle with both hands, spinning in a circle and launching it through the window. The glass shattered, the elemental and towel landing in the front yard. “Quick!” Mike and Tink ran outside, where Cecilia met them. The wet bundle looked like an angry steamed dumpling, rolling around in the yard as the elemental fought its way free. Mike grabbed the towel from Tink. “Is there a hose out here?” Mike asked. “Tink find.” She leapt over the railing, running along the side of the house. Mike held up the towel like a blanket, going the long way down the front steps. Staying off to the side, he watched the elemental squeeze free, scorching a circle in the grass and growing in size. “Tink!” Mike cried, the lizard now the size of a large dog. It ran at him on its hind legs, letting out a high pitched shriek. He saw Tink off to the side, wrestling with a house that had too many kinks in it. A thousand pounds of stone slammed into the elemental from above, grabbing it around the neck. Flames licked at Abella’s stone skin, but the fire wasn’t hot enough to bother the gargoyle. Clutching the elemental in her talons, Abella lifted into the sky, crossing over into the backyard. Mike and Tink ran back through the house and into the garden in time to see Abella fighting the angry elemental above the fountain. “Naia!” Mike shouted, the nymph appearing directly below Abella. She waved her hands, forming intricate patterns in the air as a wall of water formed around the fountains perimeter. Abella landed in the fountain, holding the fire elemental in place as Naia made the walls crash in. The fountain steamed, the elemental desperately fighting through the waves that kept catching it and pushing it back toward the middle. Abella pinned the elemental in place, the water in the fountain beginning to boil. Naia ran around the edge of the fountain, coaxing more water up from below. The garden filled with steam as the elemental unleashed its magic attempting to boil off the water and escape. Abella’s face was a mask of anger, her teeth bared at the threat beneath her as it shape shifted, an amorphous being determined to survive. Mike and Tink could only watch helplessly as the air became too thick with vapor to see. Several minutes passed, the noise dying down. A cool breeze sucked the steam away, revealing Abella crouched in the middle of the fountain, a tiny glowing ember trapped beneath her hand. Naia nodded at the gargoyle, and Abella crushed it with her fist, extinguishing its light. “Holy shit,” Mike muttered. Abella collapsed in the fountain, breathing hard. Mike hopped in, the warm water soaking his pant legs to help her stand. The gargoyle was covered in soot marks across her stony body. She sat in the cool water, breathing hard. “That was no simple fire elemental,” she told him. “He was almost too hot for me to hold onto.” “She’s right,” Naia added, kneeling by Abella’s side. She ran her hands gently over Abella’s skin. “Whoever summoned that creature has use of some powerful magic.” “We know where it came from.” Mike explained what he and Tink had found in the trash can. “The fact that it came from the trash and didn’t just attack me when I walked in the door means something, but I have no idea what. The Society clearly wants this house, otherwise they would have just burned the place down. Ideas?” “I’m thinking this was partially a scouting affair,” Abella said, holding up a blistered palm. Naia summoned a streamer of icy water to wash across it. “The elemental needed to see who was here first. I’m sure they have ideas, but it would be a bad idea to just attack without knowing who and what. I saw it in wars all the time.” “You’ve been in wars?” Mike asked. Abella nodded. “Usually I used forts or castles as a hiding place. I loved watching the people below, and nobody questions another statue on the roof of a church. I have seen my share of sieges. My guess is that they sent in the elemental to scope out the territory and then kill you if possible.” “If I die, that’s it. It was hard enough to find me, and as far as I know, I have zero family left anywhere.” Mike shook his head. “I almost sold the place anyway, but the will stipulated that I had to come and see it first, and could only sell when full ownership transferred, which takes a few days. I die, it’s only a matter of time before the Society gets this place, and then they get to you.” “Who are they?” Naia asked. Mike looked at Tink, who sat on the edge of the fountain. “Let’s find out.” to be continued. By  writerannabelle for Literotica

Home for Horny Monsters: Romancing the Stone - The magic screen, deserted fountain, and the mandragora. (part 4) By writerannabelle.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A chill went up his spine at the thought of the banshee. He needed to make nice with her, and he thought he had a good way to do it. He placed his hand on the top rail of the stairs, looking down the rest of the hall. Two doors on each side of the hall and a tall, ebony wardrobe with a silver handle. Had that wardrobe always been there? The sound of breaking glass startled him. He ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to see Tink frowning at a busted bowl on the floor. She blushed when she saw him. “Tink got startled,” she explained, eying the bowl. “But Tink can fix.” “Don’t bother.” Mike grabbed a broom and swept up the glass. “Bowls are easily replaced.” Tink nodded at this, following him into the kitchen. Mike pulled the box of Eggos out of the freezer. “Are those good?” Tink asked. Mike nodded, shoving them in the toaster. “Eggos? The best, as long as you know how to dress them up properly.” Pulling a tub of butter from the fridge, he set syrup and peanut butter next to it. When the toaster popped, he stacked the Eggos on his plate, slathering them first in butter, then peanut butter. He topped them with some syrup, handing them to Tink. “Try that and let me know what you think?” Tink took the plate, sniffing at the Eggos. “Tink not so sure,” she informed him before picking up an Eggo. She bit into it, syrup and peanut butter running down her chin. “So what do you think?” Mike asked. “Tink think goblin husband learn to cook.” She handed the plate back to Mike. “Tink need real food.” She opened the fridge, standing on her tiptoes to see to the back. Her double nipples perked up under the cold air. “Tink like pizza.” “Well, we’re out of pizza, but maybe this will help.” Mike pulled a bag of pizza rolls out of the freezer. “We can cook these up in a hurry.” “Use oven. Microwave is lazy.” Tink took the bag from him, reading the instructions. “Tink can do this. Mike eat Eggo things.” “Fair enough.” Clearly, he and Tink had different tastes in food. He made a pot of coffee, which Tink happily shared with him while they waited. Tink unceremoniously dumped the whole bag onto a pan, and Mike sighed inwardly. When he had bought food yesterday, he hadn’t accounted for another mouth to feed. Tink found a pad of paper in one of the drawers and was busy jotting notes to herself as the pizza rolls cooked. Mike dug through a collection of inbound emails, mostly job related, when he saw one from the Historical Preservation Society. Curious, he clicked the link. The writer of the email laid out all sorts of reasons why they wanted to buy the place, but Mike didn’t bother reading it. He trashed the file after only a few sentences. “Show Tink.” The goblin appeared between him and the laptop, her head blocking his view. “Show Tink how to use magic screen.” “I’ll show you later. What did you put on the list?” Tink handed him the paper. Her handwriting was surprisingly elegant, a cursive lettering that made him think of wedding invitations. Scanning the list, Mike felt a hard lump form in his throat. Every line of the paper was full with something that needed fixing. “You found all of these things wrong already?” “Tink know some from before.” The oven beeped, and Tink left his side to retrieve her breakfast. Mike couldn’t help but watch her as she inspected each roll carefully between her claws before popping them in her mouth. “Before big sleep, Tink keep journal on broken stuff, but Emily not always buy Tink supplies. Bad ladies won’t let her, she tell Tink.” “Bad ladies?” Mike thought of the email. “Oh, the historical society. Yeah, we have to be careful doing repairs, apparently. This place is on a national registry, and we have to follow the rules or…” Or what? That was a question for Beth, obviously. What was to keep him from doing whatever he wanted to the house? Some of the items on list were simple enough, and he didn’t see any harm in letting Tink work on them. “Hey Tink.” Tink, her mouth full of pizza rolls, tilted her head at him. “This thing right here. I’m planning to take care of that.” Tink nodded her head, swallowing pizza rolls. “You do good job, or Tink be mad.” “Yeah.” He didn’t need any more people mad at him. “Do we have the supplies for this?” “Tink show you.” The goblin led him out to the garage, where he once again navigated the maze of boxes. “Are these books yours?” he asked. “No. Tink read sometime, but not these. These belong to-” Tink stopped walking, her eyes going blank. “That strange. Tink forget.” “Not that strange,” Mike muttered. Tink led him down to her dwelling beneath the garage. Mike tilted his head to fit, listening carefully as Tink described her organization system. She opened various drawers and boxes, showing Mike how everything fit together like a Tetris game from hell. Opening the third box, Mike held up a hand in surrender. “Tink, you don’t live down here anymore. If it’s possible, could we take these things out of the boxes and use the very nice tool benches upstairs?” “Tink make trade. Mike move books out, Tink move tools back.” “Deal.” He kissed Tink on the forehead, the little goblin’s face turning a darker shade of green. “But that’s a job for a different day. Right now, I need some WD-40, a couple of screwdrivers, and those shears I bought.” Tink dug through the boxes, pulling out the things Mike needed, and stuffing them into a small toolbox she slid out from under her own bench. She threw in some extra items, then handed it to Mike. “You go fix, Tink check pipes.” “You got it.” Mike left the goblin behind, smiling at the sound of Tink humming a little song to herself. He cast a look back, briefly watching her assemble her own box of tools. He picked his way through the garage, briefly wondering if the garage door would even open if he tried. Deciding that he wasn’t feeling adventurous enough to chance it, he took the long route through the house, stepping out into the real world on the front porch. The swing swayed back and forth, squeaking incessantly, but an actual breeze was passing through, which meant Mike had no idea if Cecilia was there. There was an easy way to find out. “Hello? Cecilia?” He moved closer to the swing, fighting the urge to shut his eyes. It was like watching a scary movie, and knowing that the scary part was coming. “Are you out here?” The swing swayed gently, no sign of slowing down. If the banshee was gone, that would make the process that much easier. He approached the swing, grabbing the chain and unhooking it from the frame, lowering it to the ground. When nothing bad happened, he inspected the eye hook at the top of the chain. Sure enough, it had managed to wiggle partially free, the surface rusting over. Staring at the useless screwdrivers he had chosen, he found the wrench that Tink had tucked away for him. He laughed, using the wrench to twist the eyehook. Barely moving, he used a few sprays of the WD-40 to help move things along. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to yank it free. Using a rag in the toolbox, Mike gave the screw a good cleaning, scraping the rust off as best he could. Inspecting the screw, he looked inside the hole of the frame. It was caked with rust as well. He used one of the screwdrivers to clean it out as best he could, knocking loose quite a bit of rust and dirt. Sticking the eyebolt back in, he twisted it tightly into place. He gave it an experimental tug, and it held fast. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered, picking up the chain. Lifting his arm to reattach it, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck lift as the temperature dropped. Spinning in place, he saw that she was only a foot from him, her body hovering inches off the ground, both hands balled at her side. Her face a twisted mask, Cecilia took a deep breath and opened her mouth. “Wait!” Mike cried, dropping the chain and holding his hands in front of him. “Just hear me out!” He knelt down, lifting the chain and the bench, hooking it back through the eyebolt. Keeping a cautious eye on Cecilia, he sat down gently, wincing as he gave a gentle kick of his legs. The porch swing was silent, gliding back and forth with just the soft rustling of the frame above it. “I know that you like this swing, so I thought I would fix it for you.” Cecilia’s ghostly features softened, her hands reaching out to touch the moving chain. She glided gently around Mike, sitting down beside him on the swing. The air by her skin was cool, and she closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft with an Irish lilt to it. Milky eyes staring into the distance, her hand felt along the bench, resting on his knee. “I appreciate it.” “You’re welcome. My name is Mike, by the way.” Mike tried to stand, but Cecilia squeezed his leg, holding him in place. “I’m sorry about before.” She turned her sightless eyes toward him. “Please stay with me for just a bit. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in quite some time.” Mike could think of several things he wanted to do instead, but Cecilia’s demeanor was not only drastically different, but he couldn’t help but notice just how cute she was. “Okay, sure. I can stay for a bit.” “Thank you.” Cecilia rocked on the swing next to Mike, saying nothing for several minutes. Mike stared at the banshee, more than curious. Her white clothing was simple, but tailor made for her body, and her curls were as white as she was, though they terminated in eerie spikes that spread out around her as if she sat on a Van De Graaff generator. The chill of her hand was intense through his jeans. Uncomfortable, he slid his hand beneath hers, lifting it slightly. “I hope this is okay,” he told her, as a slight grin crossed her face. “You’re the first man to hold my hand in many years,” she informed him. “The last one to do that was-” Her entire body flickered, like a shock had gone through her. “-someone whose name I can’t remember.” “Yep.” Mike couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was. The longer he held her hand, the warmer she felt. “Now that you’re not pissed at me, you don’t seem very banshee-ish.” This elicited a frown from Cecilia. “A banshee is what I am, not how I act. It used to be something I was proud to be, a job I was proud to do.” “A job?” Cecilia nodded. “Every family had its own banshee. It was my job to guide them into the afterlife when they passed. Nobody loves a banshee for what they represent, but they needed us for what we did. Our wails of sorrow were to announce our coming, and we would guide the spirits into the ever after.” “So… the afterlife is real?” Cecilia nodded. “Very much so. When Emily passed, I was allowed to guide her soul to its resting place.” “That’s, wow.” That was something to chew on, for certain. “What’s it like?” Cecilia smiled. “You’ll find out someday.” “To be honest, I try not to think of it much.” Mike winced. “I had a close call when I was younger.” “I can tell. Your soul has a certain polish to it.” Cecilia’s face broke into a wicked smile. “Tell me, do you-” Cecilia flickered, vanishing from view at the creaking of the front steps. A woman in her forties walked slowly up the wooden stairs, accompanied by a much younger woman. Her long black hair was wound tightly in a bun, but there was plenty left over that it had been fashioned into a long braid beneath it. She wore a simple gray skirt with a modest white blouse. Her dark eyes found Mike, and she paused at the top of the stairs. “Are you Mr. Radley?” Her tone was formal, the question almost a command. “That’s me.” Mike stood, walking across the porch. He was going to shake her hand, but his stomach clenched suddenly, sending pain through his gut. He grabbed the railing instead. “My name is Elizabeth. This is my daughter Sarah.” Sarah’s dark hair scattered along the fabric of her red suit jacket, contrasting nicely in the sunlight. Her skirt matched her jacket, and a low cut top was accentuated by a shimmering blue stone pendant that dangled perilously between her large breasts. “We are from the Historical Preservation Society, and I was wondering if we could have a word with you.” Mike found his mouth inexplicable dry, his forced smile twitching. Something about Elizabeth made him more than uneasy, a gut feeling that he couldn’t ignore. “Um, sure, I guess.” “Excellent, Mr. Radley.” Elizabeth stayed where she was, her eyes locked on Mike. Mike saw Sarah staring at the door of the house. “Maybe it would be best if we went inside?” Mike immediately thought of Tink wandering around the house in just a shirt and goggles. “I would prefer we speak out here, actually. It’s a bit stuffy inside, and I wasn’t expecting company.” “We can talk out here then.” Elizabeth held up a folder, and Mike immediately recognized it as identical to the one Beth had taken away with her yesterday. “I was informed yesterday evening by the estate agent that you declined our offer to buy this property without even looking at it.” “Um, yes, I did decline the offer.” It was odd, but he couldn’t help but notice that Elizabeth stood on the top step of the porch rather than the actual porch. “I’ve decided to live here.” “By yourself?” Sarah asked, her predatory eyes scanning the windows. If Elizabeth was giving him a mad school principal vibe, then Sarah was a cop who had pulled him over and was ready to bust a taillight. “I’ve been by myself most of my life.” The feeling in his gut manifested now as a cold ball of ice. What the hell was going on? “I’m not sure why it would change anytime soon.” “Well, this is a pretty big place for just one man, Mr. Radley.” Elizabeth’s smile didn’t make it to her eyes. “And I can’t help but be offended that you didn’t even consider looking at our offer.” Sarah had taken a step back from her mother to get a better view of the second floor windows. “Why are you so interested in this place?” Mike asked, leaning against the rail. “It was one of the first homes built in the area,” Elizabeth told him. “Constructed by a mysterious architect, and paid for by an unknown benefactor. This home is a mystery hiding in plain site, and the Historical Preservation Society is interested in not only answering these questions, but preserving the home’s original beauty.” “Well, if that’s your primary concern, then you should know I have no intention of changing anything about this house.” “But caring for such a place will be hard for a single person, don’t you agree Mr. Radley?” Sarah had backed down the steps all the way, squinting at the shadows under the porch. “I’ve already got someone to help with that.” Mike crossed his arms. “Can I help your daughter with something?” Sarah was crouched down, inspecting the bushes Mike had fallen into yesterday, gloved hands gently touching their branches. Surprised that Mike was watching her, she stood up suddenly. “She’s been fascinated by this place since she was a little girl,” Elizabeth informed him. “I would like for you to actually look at our offer this time, Mr. Radley. Strongly consider it. I promise you that this home will only become a burden, one that the women of the Society will be more than happy to take on.” She held the folder out. “I’ll look, but no promises.” Mike took the folder, and Elizabeth’s finger briefly touched his. He felt a tiny spark, and suddenly Elizabeth’s smile finally reached her eyes. “We’ll be in touch,” she told him, moving off the steps and down the walkway to the street. Sarah smirked, following her mother out to a sports car parked partially on his driveway. He didn’t bother waving as they roared back out of his driveway. The cold feeling in his stomach faded, leaving him alone with his thoughts. “What a couple of fucking weirdos,” he muttered, staring at the paper in his hands. He opened the file, revealing a set of legal documents and a monetary offer that was entirely too large. Mike couldn’t help but notice that the offer they had supplied him pertained to the contents of the house as well. “Okay, gotcha.” Mike closed the folder and walked inside the house. Naia had made it very clear that there were people who wanted the home for its inhabitants (however many of them there were), and the odd behavior of Elizabeth and Sarah now made perfect sense. Well, almost. Obviously, Sarah was hoping to get a peek at one of the inhabitants, and her behavior had been anything but normal. Elizabeth acted pleasant enough, but he had recognized the mask she wore all too well. His own mother had donned it every time they needed a new place to sleep for the night, every time she needed to bargain just another week on the couch. This was a woman who was used to getting her way, and Mike wasn’t playing along. He sat at his computer, pulling up the website for the Historical Preservation Society. There were several members, and a little digging revealed that Elizabeth and Sarah were indeed high ranking members. He frowned, staring at their smiling faces. Looking again at the folder, he tossed it in the trash. If those two knew there was more to the house than he was letting on, he needed to figure out how to divert their attention elsewhere. That could wait, however. He walked back out front, hoping to strike up another conversation with Cecilia, but the banshee didn’t appear. Grabbing his toolbox, he wandered back through the house and out into the garden. The fountain was flowing freely now, and several small birds were bathing in the upper basin. Naia, floating in the water, had one hand in the air with two small finches chirping happily to her on her fingertips. “What are they saying?” Mike asked, setting down the toolbox. He couldn’t help but notice that Naia’s fountain was clean, but the surrounding area had been covered in dirt and muck from her blowing out the lines and overflowing the fountain yesterday. “They’re telling me about the visitors you had,” Naia said, giving her hand a flick. The birds took flight, landing in the basin to join their brethren. “You felt sick around them, yes?” “Yeah. How did you know?” “That touch of precognition I told you about. Those women were trouble, and I could sense your apprehension.” Naia sat up, the water pushing her into a seated position. “What did they want?” “They want to buy the place. I think they know something is up, because one of them kept trying to peek in the windows.” “She wouldn’t have seen anything if she had. Unless you invite someone in, the Gaes protects us from outside observation. Tink could stand naked in the doorway of the house, and it would appear empty to them.” “Spooky.” Mike sat on the edge of the fountain. “Yeah, when they wanted to come inside, I felt super uncomfortable.” “That’s from the magic. Listen to it always.” Mike nodded. “Don’t worry, I will. Oh, I talked with Cecilia. She didn’t shriek at me this time, and we chatted a bit. That was kind of cool, not having the shit scared out of me.” Naia nodded. “Emily always told me that Cecilia was very kind.” “Yeah, well, it was nice to talk to her. Are all the monsters here like that? Are you all friendly?” Naia shrugged. “I want to say yes, but I can’t say for certain. It would make sense that we all respond well to be taken care of-this was meant to be our haven, our stronghold. Gone are the days when monsters roamed the world freely. For many of us, that’s a good thing though. Several of us treated mankind as a food source, or our playthings.” “Well, humans do the same thing to each other, actually.” Mike scowled at the water. “Like your mother?” Naia asked. Mike nodded. “In the worst way. I spent years thinking that she would one day love me back, accept me, show me kindness. I’m glad she’s dead, but that makes me feel bad, so it’s a cycle that can’t really be broken. I’ll never get that closure, so…” Mike shrugged. “It is what it is.” Naia sat next to Mike, running her hands down his arms. “I can think of a way to take your mind off of it,” she suggested. Mike laughed. “That sounds like an amazing offer, but if I’m going to take care of this place, I actually need to do some stuff first.” He pointed at the mud and dirt surrounding the fountain. “This is just gross, by the way.” “Trust me, I know. Having all of that stuck in the lines of my spring was like a sinus infection. Blowing it free was so refreshing.” “Do nymphs get sinus infections?” Mike asked. “No, but I’m inside your head. I know what one would feel like, lover.” She kissed his neck. “By the gate, there is a drain located beneath the bushes that leads out to the street. If you get a push broom, I’ll flood the place again, and you can try and push it all over there.” “That’s a pretty good idea, actually.” Mike checked the garage, finding what he needed almost right away. Tink may have squirreled away most of the tools, but the bigger things were all grouped together in their holder. Pulling down the large broom, he stepped back into the garden. Naia was doing her best impression of a leaf, floating in circles as the birds took turns landing on her fingers and chirping at her. “Are you ready?” She asked. “Not quite.” The statue tucked near the door had caught his attention again. “What do you know about this?” “Not much. It’s buried in creeper vines.” Naia stood on the edge of the fountain. “It seems familiar though.” “Yeah. I bought some clippers.” Mike pulled them from the toolbox. “I’ve always had a fascination with statues. When I was a kid, there was a park with a bunch of sculptures, surrounded by a lake. I would go out onto this little island that you got to by a footbridge, and sit beneath the statues there.” Mike examined the vines, cutting them near the base of the statue and then unwinding them. “We would move all the time, so whenever we were close enough to the park, I would stop by and just sit with them for a while. There was one set of statues, three figures standing and a space between them as if a fourth one was missing. Sometimes, I would stand in that empty spot, willing myself to turn to stone for a hundred years and see where mankind ends up.” Mike worked quickly, cutting the vines free and peeling them off. It was almost half an hour before he had freed the statue from its leafy prison. It was a woman, head bowed and eyes closed. Her lower face and entire body was covered in a robe that clung tightly enough to her figure that he could run his hands across her breasts, the only indicator that she was a woman. “Well?” Naia asked. “Um, it’s a statue.” Mike moved away so she could see it. “She’s pretty, but whoever carved her didn’t feel like fucking around with details. Still, at least she’s freed from all this crap.” He tossed the vines into a pile. “What kind of plant is this anyway?” Mike held the free end of one of the vines he had cut, scrutinizing the tiny leaves growing off of it. The garden was full of random shrubs and mostly dead flowerpots, and they didn’t match the vine he held. Strangely, the vine didn’t seem to come from any of the shrubs either. Instead, it had wound its way around several of them to grow along the statue’s surface. He gave the vine a tug, trying to follow it back to where it came from. The garden extended along the back of the house. The vines were pressed up against the house too, hidden behind the bushes growing along the outer wall. Walking farther, he stared up along the house’s sides. He was fairly certain he was looking at the master bedroom window. The yard opened up, revealing a large grassy area. Vines were sprawled everywhere, pressing against the concrete wall that bordered the property and running up the side of the house. They all came from a greenhouse positioned in the corner of the property, three of its panels shattered out and allowing the vines through. “Ah geez.” Mike shook his head. How the fuck had he missed seeing a giant greenhouse? The tour Beth had given him on the first day hadn’t been comprehensive by any means, but he figured even just a cursory glance out the window would have revealed this mess. The greenhouse was roughly the size of the garage, and each of the intact glass panels were smeared in dirt from the inside. No time like the present. MIke approached the door, the earth smells from inside making his nose wrinkle. The greenhouse door had a large, silver lever. He gave it a twist, frowning when it wouldn’t budge. Rattling the door, he was frustrated when it wouldn’t budge. Crouching for a better look, he saw that a key was needed. “Of course,” he muttered. He contemplated the creeper vines, wondering if he should chop them up or stuff them back in the greenhouse. On the one hand, chopping them up would be easy. On the other hand, he could kill the plant, and the thought of simply slicing up the vines gave him that weird feeling again in his gut. One of the vines twitched, flexing like a snake awakening from its nap. “Oh fuck!” The bundle of vines spasmed, recoiling enough that they spread across the lawn. Mike sprinted across the lawn toward the house, giving the vines a wide berth. Coming to the narrow gap between the wall and the house, he saw that the vines were withdrawing, spreading out and coiling around everything they touched. He hopscotched his way through them, timing his jumps to avoid touching them. The fountain came into sight, and Naia stood at its edge, her face a mask of concern. “What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes on the retracting vines near the fountain. Her eyes met his just as the vines sprung up, a pair of them catching his legs. “Shit!” Mike pulled the shears from his back pocket, cutting at the vines that had ensnared him. Slicing himself free, more vines whipped around him, closing in and knocking the shears free from his grasp. He made it to the edge of the fountain just as his feet were pulled from underneath. Naia grabbed onto his wrists, trying to pull him into the water. Fingertips clutching the fountain, more of the creeper vines found him, spiraling up his legs and waist. “Mike!” Naia cried, his grip loosening on the fountain’s edge. She held tightly to his arms, but the vines were simply too powerful. Yanked free of Naia’s grasp, he was pulled across the yard, his fingers scraping at flagstones and dirt. Twisting on his back, he saw the greenhouse looming closer, hungry vines twisting in anticipation. “Help!” Mike screamed, grabbing the vines with his hands. They spiraled around his arms, pinning him in place. He was yanked through the windows of the greenhouse, the busted panes cutting his arms. “Fuck!” The foliage obscured his vision, and then suddenly, the space opened up. Opening his mouth to scream, it lodged in his throat when he realized that he was not so much inside the greenhouse, but somewhere else entirely. A brilliant, dark blue sky was above him, and the walls of the greenhouse terminated, revealing an entire jungle in every direction. Leaning forward, he saw that the vines were pulling him toward a rocky ledge. This was it. His brain had finally blown its last fuse. Was he even really here? Was he in bed? Was he in a mental institute, the weird guy who jerked off while pretending to fuck goblins and nymphs? The world filled with the sounds of shattering glass, and Mike heard something heavy hit the ground behind him. Crunching footsteps approached quickly, and the light above vanished behind a dark figure. The edge of the cliff loomed closer, the creature above him frantically swiping at vines with razor sharp talons. Vines whipped up at his savior, who didn’t even flinch as they struck skin. Mike’s arms were suddenly free, and he grabbed the figures ankle tightly. He was surprised to fill the cool, rough texture of stone beneath his skin, but couldn’t care less. Right now, the person above him was winning. “Cut the ones down by my feet,” he said, pulling at the figure with both hands. More vines were whipping over the edge, grabbing at them both. “There are more coming up.” One foot was free, and then suddenly, the other. Yanked to his feet, they tried to run from the ledge of the cliff, but the creeper vines had created a wall of branches behind them, cutting off their escape. “Merde!” His savior swore, wrapping stony, feminine arms around him. He was lifted easily from the ground, and she jumped off the cliff, clutching him tightly. Wings, nearly twenty feet across, caught the air as they soared into the impossible sky. Mike gazed at the jungle below, easily miles across in every direction. “What is this place?” He shouted into the wind. His savior was struggling to climb into the sky, so they soared along the edge of the cliff toward a massive waterfall. Several rocky ledges traversed the falls like giant steps, and they landed quietly on one of them about halfway down. “It is the greenhouse.” Her voice carried a thick French accent. She released him, and he stepped back from her. Her giant wings wrapped gently around her stone body, her talons retracting into her hands. Her wings became a cloak, covering her naked skin. Her face was feminine, save for the wide set nose flattened against her face, her eyes dark like obsidian. Short, jet black hair was pulled back behind her slightly pointed ears. With her cloak back in place, Mike recognized the statue he had cleaned off. “Not the kind I am used to,” he said, pointing at the jungle. “This place is absolutely impossible.” “Not impossible. Improbable.” She crossed her arms. “And now, I must ask who you are and why you are here.” “I’m Mike. I inherited this place from my Great Aunt Emily.” Mike took a seat, the adrenaline finally wearing off. “I’ve only been here a couple of days.” “You are the new guardian? I see. That explains so much.” She looked across the cliffs at where the vines were hungrily whipping around, trying to find their prey. “That is the Mandragora. It must be pretty hungry to have broken out of the greenhouse. You will need to feed it soon.” Oh god. “What the hell does it eat?” “Meat, mostly. It also enjoys wine and cheese.” “How does a plant… you know what? It doesn’t matter. Thank you for saving me.” “You are welcome.” She bowed her head at him. “My name is Abella. It is my job to protect the grounds of the house. When Emily died, I fell into a deep sleep, and apologize for not greeting you sooner.” “You were all wrapped up in the Mandragora vines,” Mike said. Abella frowned at him. “That explains why I did not awaken at your arrival. The Mandragora was draining me of my life essence. This is not good. It means I have been asleep for far longer than I thought.” “I thought the plant ate meat?” “What better way to absorb life essence? The Mandragora could not eat me nor move me, so it fed on my energy through my skin.” “What are you, exactly?” Mike’s legs were suddenly numb. He rubbed them, his muscles tingling beneath his fingers. “My kind have many names, but your kind would know me as a gargoyle,” Abella replied. “Doesn’t water have to run out of your mouth or something?” Mike asked. “If you sever my head and mount it to a building, yes.” Abella frowned. “Anyway, I-” Abella’s legs suddenly collapsed beneath her, and she fell to the ground, panting for air. “Are you okay?” Mike asked. “No, I am not.” Abella crawled over by Mike, laying down on the rock beside him. “How long ago did Emily die?” “A couple of years, actually.” “I told her that she needed to have a successor ready. The Mandragora has taken too much of my life force. I must rest for some time before I can get us out of here.” “That’s ok. I’m just happy to be alive.” Mike moved closer to Abella, his legs tingling beneath him. “Can I do anything for you?” Abella remained silent, her eyes closed. Now that she was by his side, he realized that she was only about five feet tall. Her feet were large, three giant toes with talons on them, and she had a thick, muscular tail that was hidden beneath her wings. Mike held tightly to her, feeling the slow rhythm of her breathing beneath his arms. Mike had only closed his eyes for a few seconds, or so he thought. The sky above them was growing black, distant storm clouds building giant thunderheads in the distance. Sitting up, he was delighted to discover that his limbs were no longer tingling, that full of sand finally gone. “Mike?” Abella’s voice was no louder than a whisper. “Yeah, I’m up. Didn’t think I would sleep for that long.” He stood up and stretched. “Ow, shit, I’m sore. How are you feeling?” “Not good.” Abella rolled to a sitting position. “I don’t like the look of that storm, either.” “It can’t be that-” A flash of light blinded him. Several seconds later, the thunder that chased it boomed against the cliff. “uh, bad.” Mike finished. “My kind is made to weather storms. Yours is not.” “I guess I could just climb out of here.” Mike stared at the sheer walls above him. “After someone installs a ladder.” “I do have an idea, but you will not like it.” Abella was staring at her feet. “I’m pretty open to living. What do you have in mind?” “I am a being of stone. It will take me some time to recover. You, however, have already recovered. Humans are fountains of life, its why they make such a good food source.” “You’re not selling me on your solution so far,” Mike muttered. “If you were to, give me some of your essence, I would have enough energy to fly us out of here.” Abella’s fingers were pressing down on wrinkles in her wings, watching the folds pop back up. “That doesn’t sound so bad. Are we talking magic, a blood pact, what?” Please don’t let it be a blood pact, Mike thought to himself. “It’s kind of like magic. Old magic.” Abella looked away from him. “You could give me your essence like, like a human man would give to.” “Are you talking about sex?” Mike was surprised to see Abella shrink in on herself. She nodded, her eyes on the distance. “My kind and your kind have a hatred for each other, but I want you to know that I am different. It is why I was saved, and brought here to protect this house. And while I am sure you would rather be with a hundred different human women before you would consider a hideous creature like me, I think… I think it would work.” To be continued. By  writerannabelle for Literotica.

Home for Horny Monsters: Squatter’s Rights - Mike inherits an old house with fuckable monster girls! (part 3) By writerannabelle.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. “Give up, Tink. I’ve won,” Mike panted, sweat pouring off his body. “It’s over.” Tink fixed him with an angry stare, which quickly melted into defeat. Her large eyes pooled with tears, and she turned her face away from Mike. “Tink lose. Tink give up goblin home.” She snuffled, the dirt on the floor billowing away from her. “Tink leave, and no come back.” “Wait, what?” Tink had relaxed beneath Mike, so he shifted his body so that he wasn’t crushing her any longer. “No, Tink, you don’t have to leave, I just want my tools so I can fix the fountain.” “Goblin Law. We fight over home. Loser leave, never come back.” She tried to rise, but Mike wasn’t having it. He knew that Naia would be disappointed in him if he managed to lose one of the inhabitants of the house so quickly. And honestly, was he even as entitled to the home as they were? They had been here longer, he was just the current human legally entitled to the place. Watching the goblin weep beneath him, he couldn’t help but feel extremely bad. Tink obviously came from a culture he wasn’t going to understand overnight, but this was a problem he needed to take care of right this second. “I don’t want Tink to leave,” Mike explained. The instant the words left his mouth, the goblin turned her head toward him. There was a glimmer of hope that he was afraid to shatter, so he waited for her next move. “Goblin Law say fight over home, someone leave.” Mike fought hard to avoid rolling his eyes. Clearly her head was hard literally and metaphorically. “Well, goblin law doesn’t apply here. This is my house, so we follow my laws.” Tink shook her head. “Always follow Goblin Law.” “Well, then is there a law that lets us fight and you get to stay?” He felt Tink relax even more beneath his arm. Her snuffling stopped, and she became silent beneath his arms. “Fight for goblin wife,” she whispered. “Oh.” Mike was officially between a rock and a hard place with the little green monster he had found beneath the garage. If he took her as a goblin wife, then what did that entail? Then again, where would she go if she left? Naia had warned her that the world was a bad place for monsters, and it occurred to him that, as far as he knew, nobody even remotely believed goblins still existed. What if Tink was the last of her kind? What about his relationship with Naia? “Shit.” “No have to take goblin wife,” Tink whispered. “Tink can just go.” “Well, hold on.” The gears in his mind were turning. “If I take you as goblin wife, what about other people? Do we have to live down here?” “Goblin husband take many wives. Goblin wife no mind.” “Okay. Well Tink, this was a fight for a goblin wife. Now you don’t have to leave.” Mike wanted to clap himself on the back, but he wanted to keep Tink pinned. “Fight for goblin wife not over,” she told him. Seeing the puzzled look on his face, she gently grabbed one of his hands and dragged it down to her breast. “Different kind of fight.” “Oh.” Mike wasn’t sure what to say, but he was immediately struck at how firm the breast beneath his hand was. It was slightly bigger than his hand, and as he dragged his thumb across the top, he felt a pair of nipples, stacked vertically. He gave it a squeeze, releasing Tink’s arms. She immediately grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close. “Tink want you to fight harder,” she hissed, pulling him in. Clawed hands dragged down her back, just hard enough to remind Mike that they were there. They found the waist band of his shorts, shoving them down. Mike grabbed her breasts tightly now, and Tink’s clawed hand found Mike’s cock. “Fight even harder. Make goblin wife.” Mike wrapped his hand in her hair, looping it across his knuckles so that he could yank it backward. He pulled her face in, suddenly entranced by the exotic curl of her lips, something he only saw now that her fangs weren’t bared at him. Tink was working his shaft with both tiny hands, dragging her just the tips of her claws expertly across his dick. He shivered, the sensation hitting him directly in the gut. “Almost ready,” Tink muttered, licking the palms of her hand with an unusually long tongue. Mike bit down on her breast, rolling her double nipples around with his tongue. He was amazed at how large each nipple was in his mouth, and she arched her back. “Bite harder, sweaty man.” Mike chomped down, expecting a cry of protest, but he got a moan of pleasure. Her skin was dirty, but tasted mainly of the earth, and didn’t yield in the slightest. Letting up, he curled three fingers and caught her double nipples between his knuckles, pinching them and pulling up. Snarling, Tink grabbed the head of his hard cock, now slippery, and placed it at the edge of her pussy. “Make me goblin wife,” she growled, and Mike obliged. He shoved his way into her, her tight pussy squeezing him the whole way in. “Holy shit!” Mike yelled, feeling hard ridges inside of Tink rub against his glans. Tink wrapped tiny legs around Mike and forced herself up to meet him, but she was so tight, he wasn’t getting in any further than just the first couple inches. “Fight from bottom,” Tink begged, and Mike rolled on his back. She mounted him, forcing herself down, and Mike felt like his dick was being squeezed by a set of angry hands. She struggled, only three inches of his dick penetrating her tight folds. Mike grabbed her shoulders first, trying to push her down. The tender side of him demanded that he show some sort of gentle gesture, so he ran one hand lovingly across her brow and then back through her hair. What was this? Mike swept Tink’s hair aside to reveal a horn, nearly three inches long, hidden in the wild tangles of her hair. Surprised, he searched the other side of her head, finding another, slightly shorter horn. Suddenly inspired, he clamped his hands down tight, forcing Tink onto his cock. Tink couldn’t reach the root of his cock, her insides simply not large enough for him. Her tiny belly bulged outward with every thrust of his dick. Tink panted, mouth open wide, as she rode Mike hard, squeezing at his pecks with clawed hands. Her wide hips made it easy for her legs to wrap around Mike’s waist, and she was lifting and dropping so quickly that Mike was tensing his stomach just to brace for impact. “Oh! Oh fuck!” Mike felt his insides churn, his balls getting ready to blast a load. Tink, sensing this, rode even harder, guttural moans and drool leaving her mouth, gasping for air as her fingers clutched Mike’s biceps. Mike yanked down on her horns, squeezing tight, and Tink’s grunts became a protracted growl. Mike’s whole body tightened, and Tink threw herself forward, slipping free of Mike’s hold, to sink her teeth into her shoulder. “Ow, you fucking-” Mike bit her back, trying to dig his own teeth into the flesh around her neck. His crotch was suddenly soaked in Tink’s cum, and she screamed through her teeth. His shoulder hurt like hell, but his balls never got the message. Mike bit her even harder, filling her with three giant bursts of cum, Tink grunting as each one entered her. She released him with her teeth, leaving a thin pattern of needle-like injuries all around his shoulder. Mike let go too, leaving mostly just indentations and spit on her skin. Her pussy contracted, squeezing out another stream of goo, and Mike shuddered with pleasure. Tink laid her head down on Mike’s chest, letting out a low rumble like a cat. “Tinker now goblin wife of sweaty man,” she told him, tracing her fingers along his arm. “Tinker? Is that your full name?” Tink nodded, her shining eyes on his. “Well, you can call me Mike, not sweaty man.” “Mike goblin husband. Tink belong to Mike now.” She sighed, laying her head down. Mike held her this way for a bit, letting his body relax. Even as his dick softened, her goblin cunt was still so tight that she held him in place. “Well, Tinker-” “Husband call me Tink.” “Well, Tink, I’m sure there’s plenty of daylight left. I need my tools to fix the fountain.” Tink shook her head, her ears flopping lightly beneath her hair. “Tink good at fixing. Tink help, you see.” She dismounted, Mike’s dick plopping free along with a giant puddle of cum. Tink squatted, lapping up the mess with her long, slippery tongue, until his cock was clean once more. “Jesus all-mighty,” Mike muttered to himself, finding his shorts. Tink was holding what was left of her dress, string at it in sadness. “Tink need new outfit,” she informed him, tossing the rags aside. “I think I have a shirt that will fit you,” he said, not wanting to waste any more time thinking about it. “Good idea. Husband get new dress, Tink go look at fountain.” She had already retrieved her goggles, fixing them in place on her head, and had grabbed a small toolbox next to the bench. “We go.” Tink followed Mike out, and they navigated the labyrinth of books until they got to the back door. The sun was past the roof of the house now, meaning it was at least four in the afternoon. In the sun’s light, Tink’s skin took on a pretty hue beneath all the grime, and he could now see the giant, single areola that surrounded her double nipples. Dark green pubes hid her crotch from view. Seeing where his eyes were looking, Tink became suddenly bashful. She held the toolbox up, covering her crotch with it. “Get Tink’s dress,” she said, her yellow eyes looking away from him. Mike left her behind, running up the stairs to retrieve a spare t-shirt from his bag. Today had destroyed a significant chunk of his wardrobe. He needed to go shopping soon. Mike grabbed a simple black t-shirt from his bag. He didn’t bother putting a new shirt on-his new scrapes and cuts were still clotting. Staring in the mirror, he just shook his head. It looked like he had fallen through a plate glass window. The bite marks on his shoulder, however, had already clotted up. He really hoped that goblin bites weren’t poisonous. When he got outside, Tink was squatting, naked, inside the fountain. He was handing her his shirt when he watched a spoonful of cum dribble free from her pussy. “This nice.” Tink inspected the material before slipping it over her head. The sleeves were a little too wide, but the length was perfect. It covered Tink down to her knees. Mike joined her in the fountain, and the two of them started by scraping the mud and grime from the bottom, scooping it over the side into the bucket that he had brought home. The center of the fountain was a simple marble monolith with a single basin that would overflow into the giant basin below. Scraping up the muck and grime, Mike couldn’t help but sneak glances at Tink. Her tiny body was lean and sexy in a different way than Naia’s had been. However, in the light of day, it was obvious that Tink was in need of a bath, and Mike hoped that Naia would be willing to share her tub. “How long have you been hiding in the garage, Tink?” Mike asked. “Tink there for-” Tink put a clawed finger to her lips, deep in thought. “Hm. Tink not sure. Tink remember big sleep, wake up yesterday.” She shrugged. “Do you remember Emily?” Tink nodded. “Human lady. No need to fight. She let Tink live in garage.” “Wait. You didn’t have to fight her, but you fought with me?” “Is goblin way. Males too aggressive, always take, never give. All males fight.” “Well, you need to remember that I’m not a goblin Tink. Do you think you can do that for me?” Tink stopped what she was doing, casting a soulful look in Mike’s direction. Several seconds passed. “Tink remember.” A sly grin crossed her face as she traced a line down Mike’s thigh. “Mike much bigger than a goblin.” “Oh, well, thank’s, Tink.” “Not much of a biter, though.” Tink stuck her hand into a crevasse, twisting her hands and pulling free a long trail of rocky sludge. It was almost a foot long, and Mike could hear stone scraping on stone as it slid free. Tink tossed the sludge over the edge of the fountain, and Mike heard the sounds of water rushing up from beneath the earth. “We did it, Tink!” Mike high fived Tink, grabbing her around the waist. He picked her up and they jumped out of the fountain, escaping the icy cold water as it filled the basin. Tiny bubbles of energy formed, fluttering around the fountain like butterflies, and Naia surfaced, wearing a simple cloth dress over her body. “Gods, it’s so good to be outside,” Naia said, eyes closed and arms wide. She took a deep breath of fresh air, opening her eyes to survey her fountain. “Let’s work out some kinks, shall we?” Naia snapped her fingers, and the stone monolith shook, blasting dirt and mud free. Water rolled down its sides, filling the middle basin with fresh spring water. The remaining dirt and mud was caught in tiny tide pools, which spun them into a surface froth that was unceremoniously dumped over the side onto the concrete slab beneath the fountain. “Oh, it’s like having the feeling come back to your legs after they fall asleep. Thank you so much Mike!” Naia turned to blow Mike a kiss, but froze when she saw Tink standing behind him. “Tink? Is that you?” “Naia!” Tink scrambled onto the rim of the fountain, standing eye to breast with Naia. Naia gave the goblin a tight hug. “You know Tink?” Mike asked. “Of course I do. She is in charge of keeping the house in working order. Goblins are typically quite dumb, but Tink is somehow brighter than most humans, though she may not sound like it.” Naia gave Tink an affectionate pat on the head. “I remember that she was one of the last monsters collected, still just a child when she came here. She stayed mostly in the garage, though. Her people have a weird thing about housing.” “Yeah. I ran into that. Apparently she’s officially my goblin wife.” Mike winced inwardly, waiting for the emotional fallout. “Tink, is this true?” Naia asked, kneeling down in the water so the two were face to face. “We fight,” Tink declared. “Mike win goblin wife.” “I’m so happy for you!” Naia and Tink embraced again, causing Mike to shake his head. He was having one hell of a weird day. “This doesn’t bother you?” Mike asked. “Of course not, silly. I have a part of your soul, remember? You don’t realize this, but in a way, this is the nicest thing you could do for her.” Naia patted Tink’s head affectionately. “Her kind doesn’t care for goblins like her. She’s very smart, which is bad enough if you’re a goblin female, but she is also very ugly for her kind.” “Ugly?” Mike didn’t think so, though his definition of beauty was currently in a rapid tailspin. Naia nodded. “Goblins are a weird bunch. Trust me, you would have had no reason to make a wife of any normal goblin.” Naia’s nose crinkled. “Tink, you stink.” “Tink hungry too,” the goblin announced, holding her stomach. “Just finish big sleep.” “What’s the big sleep?” Mike asked. “Between owners, the house has a way of hiding its denizens. I stay conscious the whole time, but the fear was that if a long enough period of time passed, some of the monsters would lose their shit and wander out into the world, lonely and looking for company. So they sleep, but I’m guessing that they are starting to wake up now that you are here.” Naia flipped her wet hair out of the way. “Tink, can I talk to Mike for a minute?” Tink nodded. “I put away tools.” She quickly gathered the cleaning supplies and vanished into the garage. “You fucked her, didn’t you?” Naia asked. Mike gulped. This was the fallout he was expecting. “If I didn’t, she thought she had to leave. I couldn’t do that to her.” Mike explained. “It was more than that,” Naia grinned, stroking Mike’s chin. “You fucked her, and you liked it.” Her hand found his cock through his shorts. “Unexpectedly, yes. I did. It was weird, but kind of hot.” “Goblin’s have weird ways of looking at marriage. As it is, you could order her to march into a fire, and she would do it because you are her husband. I’m telling you this so that you know how you should be treating her, despite her willingness to please you. Prove to me that you can handle this by treating her well, because it would break my heart to discover that you can’t.” “What about us?” Mike asked. “There will always be time for us. Goblins are polygamous. I could let you fuck me while she watched, and she would just be happy to be in the room.” Naia laughed. “Not that I would ever treat her that way. I think of her very much like a little sister. You should get her some food, and then have her take a bath. I promise you that you’ll find something underneath all that dirt and grime that you will like.” Naia winked. “What will you be doing?” Mike asked. “I’ll be out here, no worries. Take some time just the two of you.” Naia slid her hand across the bite mark on Mike’s shoulder. “She’s marked you, you know? Now that she’s tasted your blood, she can find you anywhere.” “Goblin bites aren’t poisonous, right?” Mike lowered his voice in case Tink came back. “You would know by now if they were,” she whispered back, giving him a kiss on the nose. Tink emerged from the garage, her hands now empty. “I’m going to fix us some lunch,” Mike announced, and Tink was immediately by his side. “And then I’m going to wash up. Care to join me?” “Tink come too.” Mike held the door for her and she pinched his ass as she walked by. Mike turned to Naia, but the nymph was already floating on her back, staring up into the clouds. Mike took Tink inside, where he heated up what was left of the pizza for both of them to eat. She sat across from him, gobbling down the pizza in huge bites while he got on Amazon to order a few things. He was lucky in that he was in a city with Prime Now, and he made a few purchases that he thought would come in handy, staring at Tink the whole time. Now that they were inside, he realized just how bad she smelled, but didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Tink followed him upstairs, where the bath had already filled itself with hot water. Mike smiled at the silver brush that had been left on the rim of the tub by the soap and shampoo. Tink stripped off her shirt, and Mike helped her into the bath. It started innocent enough-Mike stripped off his bandages and joined her, and the two of them took turns cleaning each other. Mike used a rag to wash the dirt and grime off of Tink, discovering that her dark green skin was actually the bright green of a healthy lawn. He scrubbed her back, marveling at the prominent ridges along her spine, making him think of her as a tiny dragon instead. “Tink’s turn.” Tink gently washed his around his wounds, taking particular care near the bite mark on his shoulder, which was now just a series of small scabs. She scrubbed him slowly Her hair was the worst. Mike had Tink dunk her head, dirt and grime turning the water brown. He drained the tub and refilled it twice, helping her shampoo her long, dirty strands of hair. Once her hair was clean, he discovered that her hair was a dark auburn, with alternating streaks of red and brown throughout. While he had been willing to fuck her in the dark, the emerald creature in his tub was looking more and more feminine with every layer of dirt they scrubbed off. Tink sat in front of him, her head and shoulders above the water. Mike realized that her back was now clean, but he was having a tough time taking his hands off of her. Tink sighed, scooting back against him, her fingers lightly tracing shapes on his thighs. Mike slid his hands across the top of her shoulders, then down across her chest. His fingers squeezed her breasts as one of her hands circled his cock. He pulled Tink up onto one leg, using it as a booster seat. With her wet hair pulled to one side, she reminded him of that green girl from Guardians of the Galaxy, albeit much smaller. She growled affectionately at him, and he slid his hand down her thigh and into the dark patch of hair between her legs. “No biting this time,” he warned her, tracing circles around her crotch. “No bites,” Tink promised, her pink tongue circling her thin lips. She ran her tongue up the side of his neck, tickling at his ear. Mike circled her pussy a few times, puzzled at the shape of it. She had a double set of labia, the inner set puffy and engorged. He ran his fingers over them slowly, enjoying how the folds squeezed at his fingers. Tink shivered in the warm water, her tail splashing the surface. While Tink was enjoying herself, Mike was having difficulty finding what he was looking for. Determined, he searched her folds for any trace of a fleshy nub, hoping that his theory about goblin anatomy would prove correct. After a minute of this, he decided to explore something else, pulling her leg wide and pushing a finger inside of her. Tink let out a growl, and Mike was surprised to feel not one, but two semi hard lumps just inside her pussy. He hooked his finger, tracing figure eights around them, and Tink gyrated her hips in rhythm with his movements. It was no wonder that he had trouble fitting earlier. He could barely bend his finger once inside her, and her pussy was already squeezing his finger so tight it was uncomfortable. Mike grabbed Tink by one of her horns, tilting her head sideways so that he could kiss her neck. Tink was stroking Mike’s shaft with one hand while pinching her own double-nipple with the other, her claws squeezing hard enough that Mike was worried that she would hurt herself. “This time, Mike fit,” Tink declared, leaving Mike to pull the plug. The tub drained until the water level was below their hips. Mike held onto Tink’s horns as she went down on him, her long tongue wrapping around his dick, leaving behind a trail of slime that made his dick tingle. While her teeth made him nervous, her big mouth was big enough that not only did she take his cock all the way to the back, but his balls as well. Mike held tightly to her horns and moved his dick even faster, shuddering at the smooth feeling of her tongue on the base of his cock. Every time she took the entire length of him, she swallowed, her throat squeezing the head of his dick. “Tink, that feels amazing.” Mike told her. She let out a growl of pleasure, and Mike began pumping her face. Tink fingered herself while pinching her breast, and Mike was all-out face fucking her, causing her to moan every time he bottomed out in her throat. “Fuck,” he muttered, feeling the pressure build. Tink wrapped her tongue around his balls, staving off his orgasm. She opened her mouth wide, and Mike realized that he was so far down her throat that the head of his dick was still stuck in place. Tink swallowed several times, squeezing him. Her wide, innocent eyes looked up at him lovingly, but her long tongue squeezed even harder, trapping his orgasm. She slapped at his hands, and he let go of her horns. Pulling her head back, Mike popped out of the back of her throat. “Not yet,” she chastised him, scooting her hips forward. Mike lifted her by the hips, setting her down on his cock. Her tail swished back and forth, and Mike almost came at the sheer heat of her tight walls. Tink growled at him, trying to force herself down the length of his cock again. “Tink, it’s okay,” Mike told her, but she was having none of it. She turned around, facing away from him. Her ass was like a giant peach from this position, a heart shaped fruit ripe for the plucking. Tink grunted in frustration again, trying to force Mike’s length all the way into her body. “This time, Mike fit,” she growled, slamming into him with long thrusts. She always came up a couple inches short. “Tink, I’m going to come soon,” Mike informed her. The pool of water left behind in the tub bubbled, sending tiny spheres of water into the air. “Not if I can help it,” Naia said, a hand, made of water wrapping around the base of his cock, once again cutting off his orgasm. She emerged from the water, her dress plastered against her body. Tink was panting, fighting off an orgasm of her own. “Naia!” Mike said, shocked to see her. Naia snapped her fingers, the dress on her body vanishing. She put both hands on Tink’s shoulders and gave her a hard push. Mike moaned, his balls aching as he slid in almost half an inch more. “That’s right, lover.” Naia gave Tink another push, but she simply couldn’t go any further. “Is it really that important that he fit inside of you?” Naia asked Tink. Tink nodded, unable to speak. “Then there’s only one choice.” Naia pulled Tink off of Mike’s cock, maneuvering her onto her hands and knees. Mike’s cock was covered in Tink’s creamy fluids, his dick covered in his own precum also. Leaning over Tink’s body, Naia grabbed her tail and lifted it. Mike was treated to the vision of Tink’s puckered asshole, dark green and coated in her juices. “I can guarantee that he will fit in here.” Mike felt a sudden surge from within, his heart beating in excitement. Naia held Tink’s tail up, and Mike positioned the head of his cock at her ass. Tink gasped when Mike pushed himself in, her fluids providing plenty of lubrication. Just as the head of his cock penetrated her, Tink wiggled her ass back and forth, forcing herself back. “Make…Mike…fit…” she declared, working her way steadily down. Somehow, her asshole was even tighter than her pussy, and Mike could feel Tink’s pulse against his own. He only made it halfway in when he couldn’t go any further. Tink let out a frustrated moan. “Don’t worry dear, big sister Naia will help.” A mischievous grin on her face, Naia drew a pattern in the water with her finger. The water sprouted finger-like tendrils which began tickling Tink’s pussy. Her breathe as coming in ragged gasps as her hips lurched back and forth. Tink growled, then moaned, then growled as Mike’s dick worked its way in even further. “Oh god,” Mike moaned, the water gripping him even tighter. He grunted, pulling his dick out and then pushing it back in, trying to get his balls to touch her green flesh with every push. “You need to pay it forward, little sister,” Naia informed Tink. Grabbing onto Tink’s horns, Naia pulled Tink’s head between her legs. Tink greedily lapped at Naia’s bald folds, Naia’s body hovering above the water’s surface. “Yes, that’s a good little goblin.” “That doesn’t seem like little sister behavior,” Mike muttered. “Nymphs don’t follow conventional family rules,” Naia replied, sighing in pleasure. “Uh,” Tink added, stopping frequently as the water fingers penetrated her. Mike shuddered, the sensation of the fingers traveling through the thin wall between Tink’s pussy and ass setting him over the edge. He was certain Naia was working magic on Tink, because the goblin was letting out tiny shrieks every few seconds now, her body tensing up and relaxing. “Nobody cums until Mike bottoms out,” Naia declared. Frantic, Tink was pushing herself backward as hard as she could. Naia handed Tink’s tail to Mike. “Make sure you pull it by the base,” Naia informed him. One hand on Tink’s hip, the other on her tail, he began pulling with all his might, every thrust getting him even closer. He wrapped a hand around Tink’s stomach, feeling the bulge of his dick moving beneath the skin of her stomach. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fuuuck!” Mike felt Tink tighten down, then relax. His dick slid the rest of the way in, his balls slamming against her asscheeks. She tightened up once he was all the way in, grunting into Naia’s pussy. He fucked Tink’s ass with very tiny thrusts, unable to move much farther, and Naia winked at him, touching the water with her finger. The pressure around the base of his balls vanished, and he felt several waves of energy build up simultaneously. Tink came, spraying a milky fluid into the water, and Mike filled her ass, cumming again and again, his stomach aching from the number of times he tensed up. Mike let out a growl of his own, Tink collapsing face first into Naia, who turned her head sideways in her lap. Large tears were running down her face, and Mike worried that she was hurt. Naia held up a hand to stop him from moving her. “They’re happy tears, Mike. Let her have this moment,” she whispered. Mike rubbed the base of Tink’s back, running his hands over her bubble shaped butt in lazy circles. Much like before, Mike started to go soft, but still couldn’t slide free. He grabbed Tink’s shoulders, pulling her up into a sitting position. She let out little whimpers as he pulled himself free, cradling her in his arms. “God, that was so fucking hot!” Naia declared, the faucet turning on. The tub filled up, and Tink slid away from him, facing Mike. “Tink know you make great goblin husband,” she told him. Naia picked up the brush from the side of the tub, and Mike gave Tink a kiss on the forehead as Naia began working the brush through Tink’s tangled hairs. “Tink is a great goblin wife,” Mike declared, smiling at the monsters in his tub. Romancing the Stone Mike yawned, the morning light through the white curtains casting a blissful glow on the room. He scratched the back of his neck, his foot kicking the lump near the bottom of his bed. He sat up, leaning forward to give the lump a playful pat. “It’s time to get up, Tink.” Mike watched the lump slide to the edge of the bed, disappearing over the edge with a thud. “Owie,” Tink muttered, standing up holding her bottom. She was wearing a tank top night shirt, one of the things Mike had ordered through Amazon, as a full dress. She wore her orange goggles too, refusing to part with them, even at night. “How did you sleep?” Mike asked, sliding out of bed in just his boxers. Tink responded with a yawn, her wide mouth revealing dozens of needle sharp teeth. “Tink sleep extra heavy. Mike hog bed.” “I did not hog the bed,” he muttered. After the threesome in the bath, Naia had spent a solid hour brushing Tink’s hair out, and then braiding it tightly against Tink’s head, starting at the base of her horns and running behind her ears. Mike eventually wandered out his front door (with a wary glance at the swing) to retrieve the Amazon packages he had ordered; some replacement shirts for himself, and some clothes he thought Tink would like. Tink had cried when he showed her the shirts he had bought -they all fit her like little dresses, albeit the fit was odd. Naia informed Mike that Tink’s skills extended to sewing as well, and that the goblin would likely alter the material later for a better fit. “Mike hog bed, too much roll over. Goblin husband have bad dreams.” Tink beat him to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She wasn’t wrong-Mike, despite ending the night on the best note of his life, had suffered through the standard reoccurring dreams again. He stared at the scar tissue on his hip, pondering why his brain insisted on living through the worst moments of his life in dream form, his broken mother shrieking at him from the past. “You okay?” Naia’s voice drifted up from the tub. “I’m getting a vibe off of you.” “Just some old memories, I’m okay.” Tink flushed the toilet, but the door remained shut. Wondering what was taking so long, Mike opened the door. The goblin stared at the water swirling in the bowl, her goggles pulled down over her eyes. Mike didn’t dare investigate any farther, preferring to wait. “Bad pipe,” Tink declared. “Water not fast enough. Bad pipe.” She looked at Mike, her eyes magnified through her goggles. “Tink can fix, but need some parts.” “How can you tell?” Mike asked. The toilet seemed slow, but the house was old. “Tink know.” She tapped her goggles. “Tink good at fix, but goggles good at seeing what need fix. Tell Tink big water leak come soon.” “Shit. Is it safe to use again?” “For now, is safe.” Tink strolled out of the bathroom, giving Mike’s butt a slap. “Need fix in couple days, or big mess. Tink look in basement today, check where pipes go.” Her stomach growled. “Tink go after breakfast.” “Yeah, I’ll make us something.” Mike excused himself, peeing in the toilet. The tiny scratches on his arms and legs looked bad, but didn’t hurt any longer, which was a good sign. He walked out of the bathroom, staring into the tub. “Is it weird that I’m just sort of accepting this? The last twenty four hours have been out of my depth.” “It’s what makes you a good fit,” Naia’s voice informed him. “You can handle all of this because it isn’t normal. When you got into a fight with Tink, you thought outside the box to make sure she stayed, even if it meant fucking a goblin. I know you did it partially for me, but you did it partially for the house without realizing it. It works through you, much as it does through me. If you had encountered a horny, human woman down there who wanted to suck your dick, you would have suffered a panic attack and come running inside.” Mike thought about this for a second. Naia was right. Somehow, the sheer lunacy of this whole situation wasn’t even registering on his panic meter. “Did my Great Aunt handle it as well as me?” “In some aspects, yes,” Naia replied. “She accepted things quickly, but she didn’t take your unique approach to tackling problems.” Naia’s tub echoed with her laugh. “At least, not right away. We spent plenty of nights together in the tub, just the two of us.” “Gonna be honest, not sure how to take that news right now.” Mike pulled a shirt over his head. “I’ll see you later.” “Stop out in the garden,” Naia told him. “I would love the company.” “Can do.” Mike left his room, walking silently down the long hall. He pondered every closed door he walked past, seeing each as an inevitable trap. What was hiding here, behind these quiet doors? Eventually, he would open them all, checking each room for another Tink, or even a Cecilia.To be continued. By writerannabelle for Literotica

Natalie: Office Party .  Natalie goes to a work party, and hooks up with a hot guy. by Traumseele. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.  The office kitchen was somewhat cramped. A wall of microwaves, a couple of fridges, and a counter with two sinks was meant to satisfy the luncheon needs of the two-hundred-odd people who worked at this branch of Rodow-Mills Ltd., the corporation for which Natalie worked in purchasing. She was sat a round table, eating out of a box of noodles she had gotten from a takeout place in the neighborhood. “Are you gonna wear that tonight?” The question came from the short-haired woman seated next to Natalie. Lynn, her best girl friend and confidant at work since a long time back. There wasn’t that much contrast between the two, they were very much alike in both looks and manners. Women of medium height, with dark brown hair and eyes, dressed in “business casual” which meant jeans, a blouse, and black leather ankle boots. The main difference between them was in their hair, Natalie’s was curly and shoulder-length, while Lynn always kept it short and straight. Lynn also lacked Natalie’s prominent breasts, being almost flat chested, something she was sure was a common conversation topic among the guys at work. “Why not?” Natalie responded. “It’s an office party. Not like I have any new impressions to make.” It was true. Her job was fairly routine. She knew everybody in her department, and everyone worth knowing outside of it. “Unless you want me to slut up for a night on the town afterwards?” Lynn giggled. “I’m just teasing. You look great as always, Nat.” The short-haired woman took a sip of water from her glass. “I’m just thinking about… you know. I kind of want to hook up with somebody. I haven’t done that at work before. Feels like something I should cross off my list at some point, if I had one I mean.” She took another sip. “Don’t get me wrong but you’re a lot more experienced here than I am. Got any beginner tips?” At first, Natalie felt a bit weirded out by that last comment, but then she realized that Lynn would never judge her for being a “slut” at work, and probably just wanted in on the action. She gave her friend a coy, thoughtful smile. “I don’t really know what to say that, Lynn!” she responded with a hearty laugh. Her friend kept sipping water. She seemed nervous, for some mysterious reason. “Come on. You know it’s true. I want to be just like you, Nat!” The last bit came out with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “Let’s just enjoy the free booze and try to avoid the annoying people. You’re gonna be fine. Besides, if one of these polo-wearing golfer guys were to try to steal you away from me, I would probably have to beat him up,” Natalie responded half-jokingly. Lynn was a real cutie, but Natalie just wasn’t into women in that way, even though she would often masturbate to them. That was different though, women were just sexier than men. Didn’t mean she was gay, not that she had any problem with that. The rest of the working day before the party went by as usual. Natalie sat in her cubicle, sending out purchasing emails and handing invoices over to payments. But mostly, she was just trying to pass time and look busy whenever somebody walked past. She had been to plenty of office parties, at this job and previous ones, and these things just didn’t make her nervous anymore. She felt like she could already predict all that was going to happen that night. Free drinks, some speeches from upper management, maybe a forced “team building” activity or two, but most importantly, free drinks. Her friend’s comment about her slutty work habits had bothered her a bit. Not because Lynn thought her to be a slut, she knew that she did and that was great, but rather quite the opposite. In truth, she hadn’t really been hooking up with any co-workers lately. That was a frequent activity in her mid twenties, but in recent years, the dull routine and general feeling of alienation at the office had pretty much turned off her sexuality completely in that environment. Maybe it was time to live up to her friend’s image of her? Not only was it a matter of principle, the prospect was also kind of exciting to her despite where she was at the moment, trapped in a grey cubicle. “Hey Nat, they got a new coffee maker downstairs. You have just got to check it out!” The cheerful voice was Diego, a tall, skinny, good-natured man with short black hair, olive skin, and a constant worried look in his eyes. He had appeared at the entrance to Natalie’s cubicle to share some minor news about the office, as he often did. It was a welcome break to the dullness of the average day, she thought. Diego was a nice guy, always happy and helpful, and the two of them had formed a bit of a workplace bond over the last couple of years. Doing small favors for each other here and there, spending breaks together, having coffee. “You know what? I might just do exactly that. Wanna come?” she responded, and Diego’s face lit up. She whisked her mug off of her desk, and got up from her chair onto her leather booted feet. Their 2-inch heels made barely any noise as the two of them walked across the wall-to-wall carpet that covered the floor of the cubicle farm, heading for the stairwell. “So… How are things?” Natalie didn’t have to specify the “things” she was asking him about. It was a bit of a sensitive topic, so she didn’t want to bring it up too directly. Diego had recently gone through a divorce, and was now adjusting to life as a bachelor again. It was difficult, as he had been married for a long time, and his meek, super-nice-guy manners weren’t especially suited for living it up as a single in the city, she thought. Nevertheless, the divorce hadn’t changed him much, at least not on the surface. He continued to be nice and cheerful, always notifying Natalie of “exciting” new happenings around the office, but she could tell it was bothering him. “Oh you know… Getting used to it. Got everything set up in my new apartment. It’s a real bachelor pad, haha. Hey, there’s the new coffee maker.” He didn’t seem to enjoy the subject matter very much, so Natalie decided not to bring it up again, for now. As Diego had pointed out, they had arrived at the awesome new coffee maker in the downstairs break room. There was nothing special about it at all, as far as Natalie could tell. There was a holder for your mug, and the usual array of buttons for selecting the type of coffee you wanted the thing to fill it up with. It didn’t really matter. A cup of coffee with Diego in the break room was always a nice and welcome distraction. They both knew that the “new coffee machine” was just an excuse to spend some idle minutes together, getting away from the daily grind. And so they filled up their cups, and took seats at a small round table. “Looking forward to the party?” Natalie asked, half-sarcastically. Diego was as much a fan of mandatory corporate fun as anybody else, she knew, and he especially didn’t like big booze-fuelled parties. They made him feel anxious, he had confided in her once. “You know me,” he responded casually, taking a big sip of coffee. “I’m the party animal around here.” He put the cup down with a somewhat dejected smile, as if part of him wished for that statement to be true. “I’ll stick around for a drink, make sure management notices my attendance, and then sneak out at my first opportunity before things get too rowdy. Got plenty of things to set up in my new place, anyway.” Diego looked wistful, and Natalie felt pity for him. It got worse when he tried to cover up his anxiety with a forced smile. Maybe she could convince him to stay, even help him find somebody to hook up with? Lynn was certainly in the mood, but Natalie had no idea whether he was her type or not. She didn’t really know anything about her dating history, though Lynn knew all about hers, somehow. Besides, convincing him to stay at a loud, booze-drenched office party would be about as easy as convincing water to stop being wet. She dismissed the idea. A few hours later, the party kicked off. Most off the staff had gathered in the lobby for an exciting speech about the branch’s promising future by their local chief of operations, and Natalie was already tipsy from the welcome drink. Something fruity, with booze in it. She didn’t bother to find out more details. A delivery driver had dropped off boxes of pizzas and assorted snacks, which had been opened and left on a counter. A transparent fridge had been stocked to the brim with bottles of beer and wine, and a makeshift “bar” had been set up in the corner of the lobby for mixing cocktails. There, one could find the usual assortment of rum, gin, vodka, various mixers, and more. It would be her next stop when the speech was over, Natalie decided. When the half-hearted applause died down and the music started, she made her way over to the cocktail bar. There was no use being sober at an occasion like this one, so it was time to get herself a gin & tonic, or something equally strong. A small group of people with the same idea had gathered nearby. Thankfully, Lynn was also there, and so Natalie snuck up on her and embraced her from behind. “Hey there sexy,” she said, jokingly imitating a deep, masculine voice, as her arms wrapped around Lynn from behind, meeting just below her chest. Lucky girl, she never had to wear a bra, Natalie thought, as her own breasts burrowed themselves into her girl friend’s back. A startled Lynn let out an exhasperated sigh, grabbing on to Natalie’s arms as if to tear them off of her, but stopping right as her fingers grasped around them, holding them in place. “Oh hi there,” she responded, turning her head to give Natalie a playful peck on the cheek, after which she wrestled herself free. “Booze?” she asked. “Booze,” Natalie replied matter-of-factly. The two friends walked up to the bar, picking out a couple of sizeable plastic cups, and filled them both up with gin and tonic. Getting too sloshed too early at an office party was always a bad idea, so they kept the gin-to-tonic ratio low enough to still give them a decent buzz. “Talked to any hot guys yet?” Lynn asked eagerly. “Not yet… Need to get in the mood first. This office has a habit of drying me up like a desert down there.” Lynn giggled. “I know what you mean.” She took a big sip of her drink. “Unless you have any leads for me?” Natalie asked her friend, who got a strained look on her cute little face. “Yeah right. That means I won’t get you all to myself,” she responded jokingly, with a flirtatious raising of her eyebrows. Her friend seemed to blush after that. “Shit Nat, I gotta go powder my nose. I’ll find you in a bit,” Lynn said, and scurried off. Knowing the habits of some of her co-workers, “powder my nose” could be meant both literally and figuratively. Natalie walked around the office idly for a bit, stopping for small talk here and there, getting a glass of wine from the lobby, trying to figure out some kind of game plan. The booze did a good job at staving off the worst oh her anxiety, not to mention the general weird atmosphere of “forced fun” that office parties tended to have. Still, she found it difficult to loosen up, and seemed to have lost track of Lynn’s whereabouts. She found her friend just outside the main entrance to the building, where people would go for fresh air, and others would go to ruin their experience with cigarette smoke. Natalie was not a fan of tobacco, and thankfully, her friend was in the former group. “Hey Nat! Come here! This is uh… Well, shit.” Her friend seemed to have forgotten the name of the handsome man standing next to her, whose presence Natalie had just noticed. He was about an inch taller than her in her boots, his head topped by slick dark brown hair, and a thin beard that accentuated his chiseled facial features. His broad shoulders were clad in a modest black dress shirt, and on his legs he was wearing a pair of jeans and black leather loafers. The man smiled, his face lighting up as he extended his right arm, inviting Natalie to a handshake. “I’m Konstantin. You must be Natalie I presume? Lynn here won’t stop talking about you!” “Oh, it’s all true,” she said with a laugh as she shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Konstantin.” He was so hot. Natalie normally liked her men to be a few inches taller, but there was something about the way their eyes met almost level as he gave her his bright smile, full of confidence. His handshake had been gentle, almost romantic somehow. Natalie could feel herself starting to melt a bit. Well done, Lynn. The three of them made some small talk out in the fresh evening air, with drinks in their hands. Konstantin worked in sales, and was often out on client calls, which was probably why they hadn’t met at work before. After a little while, Lynn excused herself and went inside, leaving the two of them alone in the midst of small groups of chattering, drunk coworkers. Natalie found herself at a loss for words. It wasn’t typical of her. This hot guy was just beaming with confidence, something she would usually try to take down a notch or two, but he was so nice and considerate at the same time. He was filling in all the silences with questions about Natalie, seeming genuinely curious about her, and she answered as well as she could with brief statements while she tried to think of what to do next. “Do you dance?” she asked somewhat awkwardly, as the music inside got louder. “Love to!” Konstantin responded, still smiling. “Shall we?” The floor of the lobby had been cleared up, and the “office DJ” was running some tacky playlist on her laptop. It didn’t matter so much. Natalie had two left feet when it came to dancing, and tried to focus on not making a fool out of herself as she tried to make subtle rhythmic moves. Konstantin seemed like a fish in water on the dancefloor. He didn’t do anything extravagant, simply moving his body to the music as if it was second nature to him, constantly beaming with that hot smile of his. As the night went on, the dancefloor got more crowded, and Natalie got tipsier. She and Konstantin had been moving closer to each other the whole time, and by now, they were just inches away from each other. Anyone who glanced their way could see what was going on, but Natalie didn’t care. People hooked up in the office all the time, and it’s not like she had some virtuous reputation to maintain. She put her arm around his neck and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Let’s get out of here. My place isn’t far.” Over Konstantin’s shoulder, she could see Lynn standing in the corner of the Lobby, nursing her drink. Natalie felt a little bit guilty about ditching her friend, but the look of approval on Lynn’s face eased her worries. She leaned back, raising her eyebrows and looking into Konstantin’s light brown eyes with intent. He was biting his lip. His hand found hers, and they walked outside. The air was electric as the pair stood in Natalie’s dark apartment hallway. Natalie had just closed the door behind them, and was staring at Konstantin’s silhouette as he took off his shoes, letting the outline of his hard body become clearer as her own eyes adjutsed to the lack of lighting. She pulled off her own boots, and stood on the floor in her ankle socks, anticipating this man’s next move. It came suddenly. With force, he lifted her arms above her head, pressing them against the wall and kissing her passionately. She let out a surprised but excited moan, and tried to grab his head before realizing that her arms were trapped. He let go of her arms and let his ands explore her body all over, clumsily finding their way under her tucked-in blouse, caressing her naked body underneath all the way up to her bra-covered breasts. He squeezed them and dug his fingers under the fabric, trying to find her no doubt rock hard nipples. Natalie kept her arms above her head in the dark hallway, letting Konstantin explore her body at his leisure. He was pressed up against her, hard, grinding away. The bulge between his legs rubbed against her clit through layers of jeans and underwear, but it was enough to make her want more. She wanted him inside of her, badly now. Right then, Konstantin stopped, and took a step back. Natalie felt very confused. Was he teasing her? She wouldn’t have any of that, not tonight. Flustered, she groped the wall, searching for the light switch. Her dark eyes squinted as light flooded the previously dark apartment. Konstantin stood before her, his face glistening with sweat and saliva from their sloppy kisses. He was sucking his lower lip in, hard, while giving her a puzzled look. What was he doing? “Natalie I… I have kind of a thing I want to do with you, if you don’t mind,” he said after hesitating for many long seconds. The thing had better be to fuck her silly until she passed out from orgasmic pleasure, she thought, giving him a sly and expectant look. A nervous look washed over his face, as he continued hesitating. Natalie stepped forward, grabbing Konstantin by the hairs at the back of his head gently. She licked her lips and said, “tell me what you want to do to me,” hoping that the command would dispel his nervousness and hesitation. “I… You’re so hot,” he said, pausing for another few seconds, caressing the side of Natalie’s body up and down. “I’m going to cum in literal seconds if we fuck. Never been good at lasting long. So… I want to do that. I want to cum inside of you, and then eat my cum out of your pussy. It’s… kind of my fetish.” Natalie interrupted him with another sloppy kiss before he could get too lost in his own thoughts. She had never tried that before, and at the moment, she was hot and horny enough to try just about anything. As long as it meant getting some dick in her. She unzipped his pants and dug his throbbing member out of his boxers. It wasn’t the biggest one she’d ever held, but it was firm and already leaking precum. Her pussy was screaming to be filled up, so she unzipped her own jeans, and resumed her previous position, back against the wall with her hands above her head. Konstantin didn’t seem to need any further approval. Within a second, he was back to ravishing her, kissing her neck, hands going all over the place. Her blouse became unbuttoned, and her bra unclasped, while her pants and wet panties slid down to her ankles. She moaned and reached down for his erect cock, jerking it faster and faster. He put one of his legs in between hers, spreading them apart as far as the elasticity of the pants around her ankles would allow for. They shared another sloppy kiss, tongues twirling around each other, as his cock slid easily up and all the way into Natalie’s eager, dripping wet pussy. She could feel it bottom as her throbbing clit pressed against his hard pelvis, tickled by his recently trimmed pubic hairs. With his hands firmly grabbing her hips, Konstantin started fucking her, making sure her pussy got to feel the whole length of his cock, as he slammed hard against her clit with each thrust. Natalie gasped continuously, mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts. Their foreheads were touching, and they made intense eye contact. As he had promised, Konstantin’s orgasm came quickly, after ten or so thrusts. His face scrunched up, and he grunted loudly, as his throbbing cock spilled load after load of hot cum into Natalie’s pussy. She instinctively felt a bit disappointed, as she usually did when her partner came well before she was anywhere close herself. But then, she remembered the rest of his promise, and waited excitedly for his orgasm to subside. When it did, he pulled his dick out out of her, carefully replacing it with a hand, making sure to not let his seed spill out of her too much. Some of it was already dripping down her naked legs. She was a proper mess. Teary eyed, and with saliva glistening around her mouth. Her blouse was fully unbuttoned, and her unclasped bra was hanging around her neck like an albatross from an old poem. Konstantin’s face was beaming. This was clearly his favorite part. Natalie didn’t bother adjusting anything about herself in her current state. She simply kicked her pants and panties to the side, strode on sock-clad feet into the living room, blouse and bra still clinging to her upper body, and lied down with her back half on the couch, legs spread as wide as she could manage, a hand holding the hot cum inside her pussy. She motioned for Konstantin to get down between her legs and get to work, as he had promised. He wasted no time. Within seconds, he was on his knees between her glistening legs, lapping away at Natalie’s cum drenched pussy with his eager tongue, making sure not to waste a drop of his own cum or her plentiful juices that it had mixed with. “Oh fuck,” Natalie exclaimed without even thinking. This was so hot. Maybe she should make all guys clean her out like this if they wanted to cum inside her? She finally knew why guys liked to put their fingers in her mouth after rubbing her pussy. Konstantin was, if possible, enjoying himself even more than she was. He was going wild, moaning and grunting, kissing the inside of her thighs and leaving big hickeys when he wasn’t pressing his tongue between her pussy lips, making sure not to miss a single drop. With the way Natalie’s juices were flowing, he would never be finished. That was fine, she could do this all night. She was pinching and tweaking her nipples hard, moaning like the slut she loved to be, when she almost passed out from a jolt of pleasure emanating from her clit. Konstantin had sucked it into his mouth like a vacuum, and was skilfully flicking his tongue against it in just the right rhythm. Natalie lost her breath as she started squirming, her body contorting on its own, legs wrapping around Konstantin’s neck to force his face into her. Her thighs were pressed together so tightly that she was sure that he was suffocating, but that was a price she was willing to pay. The orgasm washed over her like a tsunami. It was so intense. Her thighs squeezed up so hard that she was scared of accidentally killing Konstantin. Waves of pleasure conquered her body as she lost control. She squirmed around, starting to glide off the couch as her juices flowed, giving Konstantin more and more cum, even though it wasn’t his own. She came to, lying on the floor, a naked, quivering mess. Above her was the hot guy from the office party. His face was beaming again, almost looking proud of what he had done. by Traumseele for Literotica . -

Home for Horny Monsters: A Banshee on the Porch! -  Haunted victorian house has more erotic surprises (part 2) By writerannabelle.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. “Get in the bath with me,” Naia purred. “I can help you relax.” “You still haven’t told me what you get from the link.” “Your protection.” She leaned back, her breasts bobbing on the surface. “This home needs a guardian, a human who won’t expose our secret to the world, one who will care for us until his dying day. When I read your spirit, I knew that you could be the one who protect us.” “Us?” He peeked out into the bedroom. “There are other nymphs?” Naia shook her head. “I’m referring to the house itself. Emily was the last guardian of this place, and it holds many secrets. If this house should fall into the wrong hands…” Naia shivered, though the water was warm. “I’m afraid I can’t be of much help in discovering them, as I am unable to leave this room. That, and I can’t actually tell you.” “Why not?” “It’s the house.” She frowned. “Powerful magic, a Geas. When Emily died, the house’s protective magic kicked in. It’s like being unable to remember someone’s name, even though you are looking right at them. There is something important that I want to tell you, but it floats away from me when I try to focus on it. I’m afraid it will be that way until you can figure out for yourself the real purpose of this house.” “Secrets, huh?” Mike thought back to his college days, low-key hacking into servers just to see what was there. “Sounds like a challenge.” “I wish I could help, I really do.” Naia frowned. “I have huge gaps in my memory, but the main thing I remember is Emily.” “You knew my Great Aunt well?” “She was a good friend. I know you picture her in your mind as some old woman traipsing through the house, but she never looked a day over twenty seven. Not until the day she died, anyway. The magic preserves beauty, but doesn’t prolong death.” “Interesting.” Mike stroked his chin. “So, I’m going to be young forever.” “On the outside.” Naia smiled. “And I think I can make your stay worth it.” “I’m going to be honest. I’m not really good with women.” Mike stared at her naked body, his cock twitching once more. His body and brain were disconnected, his body suddenly ready but his mind hesitant. His mother’s voice was distant, but it was still there. “I saw that.” Naia trailed a finger down between her breasts. “A lot of pain in your past, something holding you back. You’ll find that our new bond will alleviate that somewhat.” “What, are you my therapist now?” “Even better.” Mike hadn’t realized how close he had come to the water. Naia slid her finger into the waistband of his pants, pulling him close. “My magic has created a special bond between us, one that enhances trust, allowing you to momentarily forget.” Tugging the band of his pants down, his cock sprung free, pointing directly at her mouth. “I can teach you to overcome your pain, if you will let me.” She stroked his cock lovingly, her fingers magically warm and wet. She gazed up into his eyes, adoration on her face. “Please let me do this, Mike. Please.” “I…” Mike stared at the woman in his tub, the one who radiated warmth and safety. For the first time he could remember, he had become lost in the moment, the slight heat of her breath teasing the head of his swollen dick. Gone were any thoughts of his childhood, the house, or what had happened earlier. Her eyes were shimmering pools, glowing with an inner light of their own. “C'mon Mike. Let’s do it right this time.” She continued stroking. “With your permission.” Mike was breathing hard, his fingers stroking lightly at her hair. She broke eye contact, staring hungrily at his cock. She was panting now, and his cock tingled with every stroke. “Please,” Mike begged her. “Please.” He couldn’t put the feeling into words, but he needed her. She leaned forward, sucking him in gently, her teeth just barely sliding across his foreskin. He shivered as she took him all the way to the root, one hand stroking his balls while the other slid around his hips. She sucked on him for several seconds, and he moaned softly, unsure what to do. She broke away, a trail of spit connecting her mouth to his dick. “Get in.” Her voice was husky, her hands pulling down his pants. He helped, pushing them to the floor as she caressed his balls, rolling them gently between her fingers. He stepped into the bath, her mouth finding his dick again. She grabbed him by the hips, moaning quietly as he thrust into her mouth. Already, his body felt light, his muscles relaxing as the magic took hold of him. He popped free from her full lips, and she reached up for him as he knelt down, their lips finding each other. He ran fingers through her blue hair, tracing the line of her jaw. She clutched his shoulders, breaking free of his kiss to suck at his collarbone. “Everything feels like electricity,” he told her, meaning every word. His skin was practically tingling, her touch igniting tiny sparks between them in the warm of the bath. “Part of that is my magic,” she whispered in his ear, her breath hot. “The rest of it is me.” His hand moved down her belly, parting the thick folds of her pussy. She was impossibly tight. He worked her cunt this way for a few minutes, rubbing at her clit with his thumb. After a minute of this, he realized that something felt odd. Pushing back from her, he stared down. “Is that a piercing?” He asked. In between her labia was a shiny sphere. “That’s my clit,” she giggled. She stood, sitting on the edge of the tub and spreading her legs. Pulling back her folds, he saw that her clit strongly resembled a pink pearl. He ran his finger across the top of it, causing her to gasp. It was smooth, yet hard. “Is it always like this?” “Only when I’m this turned on.” She said, smiling. “It’s called a Nymph’s Pearl.” “God damn.” He moved closer, taking in her scent. The aroma made his head swim. “May I?” “You’re such a gentleman.” Grabbing the back of his head, she pulled him in. He opened his mouth, gently sucking in her Nymph’s Pearl, moving it around with his tongue as he slid two fingers in her pussy. Naia gasped, digging her fingers into the back of his head as he rolled her Pearl around in circles. Moaning, she wrapped her legs around his head, squeezing him tight. From his position between her legs, her scream of delight sounded like distant thunder. He switched from two fingers to three, her eager pussy gobbling up the extra digit with no effort. He pulled his fingers free, lapping at her inner folds with his tongue, marveling at the salty-sweet taste of a nymph’s vagina. Hands clutched at his neck, her legs trembling uncontrollably as he drove her to the edge. Sucking the Pearl back into his mouth, he slid his fingers back into her, curling them upward. She screamed again, soaking his face with her cum. Three rapid bursts of fluid coated him completely. Startled, he pulled away, wiping his eyes clear. It had the same taste that she did, with just a hint of spice. Naia, reclined on the edge of the tub, was gasping for air, her body suddenly limp. “I’ve… I’ve never seen that before,” Mike told her. His cock was absolutely throbbing. Naia’s eyes glowed from within, the water in the bath suddenly becoming steam. Rolling over, she lifted her ass into the air, clutching the rim of the tub. “Fuck me, Mike,” she hissed, the water’s surface becoming choppy. He wrapped his hands around her hips, staring down at the juicy curves of her ass. Oddly, her prominent pussy was missing its neighbor, the long curve of her labia stretching farther back to where her asshole should have been. Sensing his pause, Naia looked over her shoulder. “Nymph’s don’t need assholes. Now hurry up and fuck what’s in front of- Oh God!” Mike, wasting no pretense, shoved himself inside her awaiting hole. Her body lurched forward as he pounded her from behind, giving no thought to her pleasure at all. Somehow, this didn’t seem to matter to Naia. She panted like a dog, her raspy breath echoing off the tiles of the bathroom. “Holy shit,” Mike shouted, desperately shoving his dick inside. His newfound sensitivity was driving him wild, and he clawed at Naia’s ass cheeks, his excitement building. The water around them bubbled with energy, tiny water spheres taking flight and hovering in the air. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” When Mike came, his vision turned black around the edges, the world briefly losing focus, his back arching as he filled Naia with hot sperm. She let out her own shriek, pushing back against him as her back spasmed, ripples traveling down her spine and legs as she shook uncontrollably. “Oh Mike,” Naia moaned, going limp beneath his hands. She sank into the water, and Mike joined her, the two of them easily floating side by side. “Naia.” Mike was officially spent. He ran his fingers through her hair, sighing to himself as her fingers traced circles on his chest. “That was absolutely magical.” “I’m glad you liked it.” Naia kissed him on the neck. “Consider it a down payment.” “For what?” He asked. “For taking care of me. This place.” Naia’s face was suddenly serious. “If you choose to stay, you will find out that there’s a lot more to do than just live out our days fucking. There are some really bad people out there, people willing to do anything to get their hands on this place.” “Because of you?” He asked. “The man who built this house didn’t just do it for me. He was a collector of magical items. These objects have tremendous power, and he hid them well. My job is to guard the house-because of the spring, I can never leave, so I was the best choice to be its guardian. Every time the house is passed to a new caretaker, I either make the pact like I have with you, or the new owner suffers an accident. Also…” Her face went blank for a second. “Damn. It’s that thing I want to tell you again. I just can’t remember, it’s so frustrating. Anyway, I can’t leave this room, or the fountain, once it’s repaired for that matter.” Naia stroked Mike’s stomach lovingly. “Please fix my fountain. I miss being outside.” Mike stared at the canned lights in the ceiling. Magical artifacts? This night had taken a strange, impossible turn. “It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where these magic artifacts are kept. The house is big, but it’s not that big.” Naia smirked, kissing Mike on the lips. “You keep telling yourself that.” Yawning, Naia stretched. “I’m exhausted. You get some of that muck pulled from the fountain, and you and I can stay up all night if you like.” “Consider it done.” He stayed with her for a while, but the water grew cold. Bidding her a good night, he watched as she vanished beneath the water’s surface, the cool liquid flowing down the bath drain. Drying himself off, he stretched out on the giant bed. Within moments, he was asleep. The bed was probably a hundred years old. God alone knew how old the mattress was. Somehow, Mike awoke from easily the best night’s sleep in years. His body was in the same position it had been when he fell asleep. Yawning, he stepped down on the hard wood floors, his left ankle popping. Rubbing the back of his head, he strolled naked to the toilet to pee. He flushed the toilet, stepping out into the main bathroom. The tub was still there, glistening in the light of the morning sun. “Naia?” his voice quivered, slightly. The events of last night were fresh in his mind, and he wondered how much he would crack if he discovered that it had all been a dream. “I’m still here.” Her voice echoed from inside the tub. “I’m always here. Now go get some work done. You and I can play later.” Mike laughed, leaving the room behind. Breakfast was last night’s pizza, quickly reheated, and some soda. Mike quickly threw together a grocery list, food he would need for the week ahead. He stepped out the back door, staring at the poorly kept yard. The house itself was built near the top of the hill, and Mike realized that the back yard’s high stone walls ensured privacy. A wrought iron gate at the back of the yard led out into the woods behind the home, but someone had strung a chain across the bars, a giant padlock holding it in place. The fountain was in sad shape. No water could be seen in its giant basin, which was now full of silt and dead leaves. Mike sat on the side of the fountain, looking at his laptop. A quick Google search yielded several ways he could begin to restore it, but he was either going to have to look for tools or buy them. “Fuck it,” he muttered, adding the tools to his shopping cart. He didn’t feel like spending hours looking through the house trying to find what he needed, and the local home improvement store had a service counter pickup option, which would get him home and back that much faster. Closing his laptop, he stood up to go back inside. “Jesus fuck!” He nearly dropped his laptop. A stone figure tucked away in an alcove by the back door had startled him. Moving in for a closer look, he saw that it appeared to be a statue of a woman, but other than an ample bust, few details could actually be seen. Covered in creeper vines, he pushed a few of them aside to try and see it better. Failing, he made a mental note to pick up some garden sheers. Kneeling down by her feet, he expected to see a plaque on the pedestal she stood on, but it was blank. “Damn near gave me a heart attack,” he muttered, walking in through the back door. He set his laptop on the kitchen table, listening to the sounds of the house around him. Nothing but silence. His rental car, a green Kia, was still on the curb where he had left it. Leaves had tumbled down from the trees along the street, creating a blanket for it. Pulling away, they spun in circles behind him, creating little leaf tornados in his rear view mirror. Pickup at Mel’s, the home improvement store, was super quick. Mike grabbed an extra pair of work gloves and some garden shears on the way out. Stopping at the grocery store, he picked up some basics, including coffee and a new coffee maker. He had seen one in the kitchen, but didn’t trust it to actually work. He arrived back at the house, gathering up all of his bags in an attempt to make only one trip. Walking precariously between the stone lions, he made it to the front door, setting the bags down to get his key out of his pocket. The deadbolt clicked open, and he pocketed the key, kneeling down to grab his bags. The porch swing creaked. Mike stared, the gears of his mind turning. He thought he had disconnected the swing last night. Yet there it was, swaying in a non-existent breeze. He walked over, unhooking the swing and lowering it to the porch. Shaking his head, he walked inside, putting it from his mind. He stacked his groceries up on the counter and tossed the bag of supplies on the kitchen table. Stocking the fridge, he began organizing the tools from the store. A few scrub brushes, a trowel, and a drain snake were pulled from the bucket he had purchased, as well as a screwdriver. A knock at the door was followed by the sound of the bell. Mike walked back down the long hall, a shadowy figure visible through the frosted glass of the front door. He opened the door to reveal Beth, his Great Aunt’s estate representative, standing on the other side. She was holding a stack of files, but that wasn’t what Mike noticed. Her dark hair still in a bun, she was wearing a bright red blouse, the top buttons straining to hold it shut, with a knee length white skirt. “Mr. Radley,” she greeted him, a warm smile on her face. “I thought I would drop by and bring you some paperwork. There are several things the firm needs you to look over before we can finalize a transfer of assets. May I come in?” “Um, yeah. Certainly.” He stepped back, and she stepped past him, the smell of soap and lavender following her in. He shuddered internally, this human woman somehow ten times more daunting than the mystical creature upstairs. “Here, this way.” He led her to the kitchen, where she set down the pile of documents. “It looks like you’re getting ready to tackle a project,” Beth said, picking up the trowel. “Hopefully nothing the Historical Society would disapprove of.” “Just cleaning some gunk out of the fountain,” he told her. “Hoping to see it running soon.” “Those don’t sound like the words of a man who is still debating keeping the place.” “You’re correct. I’ve decided to stay.” “In that case,” Beth slid one of the folders out, checking its contents. “This was an offer from that group of women I told you about. They call the firm almost every day, they’re absolutely in love with this place.” “I hate to disappoint them, but the place is growing on me already.” Mike smiled, thinking of Naia. “Not sure why, but I feel like this is where I was meant to be.” “I’m very happy for you Mike.” Her smile was genuine, crinkling the skin next to her eyes. “I know what you mean. I’ve been over here several times to make sure the place is being cared for properly by our interim team, and admit I’m a little sad that I won’t get to see it much longer.” “Nonsense.” Mike waved a hand dismissively. “You’re welcome over here anytime. Besides, you’re the only person I even know in this town. My job doesn’t offer many opportunities to meet new people, so I’m afraid you are my entire social group.” “I may just take you up on that.” Beth sat at the table. “I’ve been a bit obsessed with this place since I was a little girl. I was convinced a fairy queen lived here, probably until I was thirteen. I used to ride my bike past every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Turns out that it must have been someone who worked for your great aunt, a young woman who I sometimes caught working in the garden. She had this brilliant radiance around her, almost like she was stuck in an old Disney movie. I half expected birds to circle around her as she broke into song or something. I won’t lie, I tried to figure out who she was once your aunt passed, but there weren’t any records.” She chuckled, stroking the files with a finger. This action pressed her breasts together, causing a tiny gap to form between the buttons of her blouse. Mike stared into that dark space, wondering what color her bra was. “It’s silly, I know, but I can’t help but love this place just a little.” “I’ve only been here one night. Trust me, I know what you’re talking about.” Snapping his eyes away from her chest, Mike leaned forward, opening the top file. “Ugh. This looks like a bunch of legalese.” “In triplicate. These are some additional assets, plus some agreements I need you to sign since you are taking ownership of the home. Per the will, there are a few protective clauses, primarily stating that you can never bulldoze the home and start from scratch. This was per your Great Aunt’s wishes, but I’m guessing that isn’t a problem.” “You would be correct.” Mike slid open a drawer looking for a pen, but Beth had one ready. “You can have an attorney read these over first. I prefer that you would, actually. There isn’t any hurry-now that we have an heir, the clock sort of resets for a bit.” She set the pen on the table. “However, I am just on delivery duty today. I need to get in to the office to begin processing some additional documents. Today is Tuesday. I would be happy to drop by on Friday to pick these up, if you have them done. Otherwise, I can just drop by to make certain you are getting settled. That is part of the provisions as well.” “Um, yeah. Sure. Thank you.” Mike followed her outside. He walked behind her, watching the gentle sway of her ass until they arrived at her car, a cute little convertible he didn’t recognize. Beth gave him a wave and a smile before driving away. He walked back up the walk, stopping to pat one of the lion’s paws for luck. In his mind, he was planning to take the bucket straight out back and see what he could do about that pesky fountain. He was up the stairs, his hand on the door when he heard the swing next to him squeak. Turning his head, he saw her sitting there, kicking her legs gently as she stared across the front yard, her eyes distant. “Hey.” Mike said, moving to get a better view of her. Her skin was unnaturally pale, her hair white. She was wearing a simple white dress with a thick, black belt around her waist. The skirt stopped just above her knees, white stockings visible above a black pair of shoes. The swing creaked as she swayed, coming close to the siding of the house. She ignored him. “Hello? Hey?” He stood in front of her, waving his hand in front of her face. Her slightly milky eyes stared forward. Maybe she’s blind, Mike thought, staring at her now. Her skin was paper white, but her facial features made Mike think of a mixed European heritage. Small breasts pushed against the front of her dress, filling out the top as if it had been custom made for her. Her eyes didn’t budge, her dark eyed gaze settled on eternity. “Now look…” Mike grabbed the chain of the swing, halting its forward motion. The change was immediate. She was suddenly standing, her whole body lurching forward as if a movie had skipped several frames. A blast of cold air assailed Mike as her wild face was suddenly inches from his own, her feet hovering inches above the ground. She let out a blistering screech, her hair fanning out wildly behind her as she raised her hands, fingers curled into claws. Mike, panicking, stumbled backwards, the railing hitting him in his lower back. The icy blast of air pushed him over the edge, where he fell into the scratchy bushes below. Wide eyed, he stared into the sky as the specter leaned over the rail, floating upward. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered struggling to fight his way free of the bushes. She let out another shriek, her suddenly darkened features stretched until her face was a nightmarish mask. “Stop unhooking my swing, fucker!” She cried, poofing out of existence. Mike scrambled to his feet, rolling free of the bushes covered in bloody scratches. Standing in the warm light of day, his heart pounding a mile a minute, Mike stared up at the porch where he had fallen from. The railing was cracked, and behind it, the porch swing swayed gently in the breeze. Mike ran up the stairs, his eyes on the empty swing. He shoved the door open, slamming it shut behind him. “Naia!” He hollered, running up the stairs. “Naia, what the fuck was that?” He shouted, running into the bathroom. The tub’s faucet opened up, pouring a thin layer of water on the bottom. Her head and shoulders emerged as if she was in a lake rather than an inch of water. “What happened?” She asked. “Some woman on the porch. On the swing. Screamed at me. I fell into the bushes.” Mike gasped for air, inspecting the cuts on his arm. “Oh. Oh!” Naia’s eyes flashed. “I remember! That’s Cecilia!” “Who is Cecilia?” Mike sat on the side of the tub, rubbing his eyes. “She’s a banshee. She lives on the porch. She really likes the swing.” Naia sunk even lower, her lips just above the surface of the water. “I’m sorry Mike. I wish I could have told you.” “Is that the important thing? The one you wanted to say but couldn’t?” Naia shook her head, her face moving even lower. Just her eyes were visible above the water. “Naia, what aren’t you telling me?” Mike crossed his arms. The nymph blushed, her words muffled by the water. “What did you say?” Naia rose up out of the water until her lips were visible. “I said that there are others.” “Others? Others like who?” Naia shook her head. “I can’t remember. I’m sorry Mike, but I really can’t. Now that you’ve met Cecilia, I can remember her very well, or at least what Emily told me about her. She almost never came inside. But there are others.” “If you can’t remember them, than how do you know there are others?” “It’s the important thing, the one I couldn’t remember.” Naia slumped. “I think you’re going to be mad.” “I’ll do my best. What is it?” “Remember earlier, when I told you that the man who built this house collected magical artifacts?” “Yes?” “It’s part of the Geas. It’s a fail-safe, a half-truth. He did collect artifacts, yes. But he came across most of those on accident.” “How do you accidentally come across artifacts?” Naia put on her best, fake smile. “You see a lot of them when you decide to start your own monster collection.” “Monsters. The guy who built this house collected monsters.” Mike sat on the edge of the tub, Naia wrapping bandages around the deeper cuts on his body. He wore only his boxers, having stripped away his clothing. He was grateful that the bushes had caught him, but a bit miffed that they had taken their price in flesh. “Yep. It started as an academic thing, but he had a really big heart. The world was changing too quickly for us monsters to adapt, so he rescued as many of us as he could.” Naia rubbed some Neosporin into a cut on his leg. Nymphs could do a lot of things, but healing magic was not one of them. “While there are people out there who would kill for the magic hidden in this house, the monsters here are a magical goldmine.” “How so?” He asked. “Hard to answer. For instance, it wouldn’t be hard to hold a nymph hostage and demand that she share her gifts. Cecilia’s gifts wouldn’t be worth much, because banshees only appear before someone dies, generally.” “Wait.” Mike grabbed Naia’s hand. “What do you mean banshees only appear before someone dies?” “Cecilia is different. She’ll appear to the owner of the house-it doesn’t mean anything. She and Emily used to sit out there and watch the sunset a lot of evenings. Nobody needed to die, so don’t worry about it.” Naia dabbed some more Neosporin on his leg before wrapping it. “Who built this place?” Mike asked. Naia froze, mid-wrap. “I wish I could say.” A tiny tear formed in the corner of her eye. “All I know is that I was extremely happy while he was here. Emily was nice and all, but I had a special bond with the man who built this place. It kills me that I can’t remember him.” “But you remember Emily?” That was a mystery that he was going to have to think on. Why would the former owner need his identity kept a secret? How does one get into collecting monsters in the first place? “Yeah, I do. And Natalie. She was our keeper before Emily. But the real master came before Bethany, and I can’t even picture him.” Naia sniffed, finishing the wrap on Mike’s leg. “I wish I could remember.” “I hope you remember.” Mike meant it. Anything she could remember was something he could use. The sooner the better. Seeing a banshee on the porch had spooked him, and bad. What other surprises did the house have for him? Naia made him feel good in so many ways, but was the trouble worth it? “There. All better.” Naia kissed him on the neck, sending chills down his spine. “Now go unclog my fountain. The sooner you do that, the sooner I can see the stars again.” “Fair enough. Thank you, Naia.” Mike stood, tossing his bloodied clothes in a hamper by the bed. Cracking open his bags, he found a pair of athletic shorts and a clean shirt to wear. Walking down the stairs, he pondered the situation that had developed. Cecilia, the crazy bitch on his front porch, had nearly killed him for touching her swing. How many others like her were there? Was he going to get killed by something that was using a room as its lair? He stared at the furniture, covered in white sheets. The house had been cleaned numerous times, and as far as he knew, no problems had ever been reported. Something to ask Beth. He found himself looking at the fireplace in the sitting room, some stray thought crossing his mind. Before he could focus on it, he heard the creak of the swing out front, the immediate memory of an angry banshee in his face sending chills down his spine. Rubbing his face, he walked toward the back of the house, away from the sound of the swing. He walked to the kitchen table, grabbing the bucket and eager to go out back and deal with a problem he could handle. Lifting the bucket, he realized that it didn’t feel quite right. Looking inside, he saw that it was empty. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He shouted, throwing the bucket angrily. He sat down, putting his face in his hands. Should he go back to the store? It meant walking past the Swing of the Damned currently, and he knew he wasn’t ready to deal with that. With a resigned sigh, Mike walked outside to the garden, hanging a left at the fountain. Key in hand, he unlocked the door to the garage, pushing it in. Beth had warned him about the garage. Apparently his Great Aunt had been using it primarily for storage, and he immediately saw that the boxes had been piled high. He flicked on the light switch, which didn’t actually help that much. The garage itself felt cavernous, somehow bigger than its two car capacity. The maze of boxes had him twisting to maneuver through them, hoping to make it to the other side. He expected to discover a tool bench on the opposite wall, and he was not disappointed. The bench was burdened with several boxes, so he lowered them to the ground. “Fuck, these are heavy.” He cracked open a couple boxes to reveal several paperback novels. The box he was looking in contained old sci-fi novels. He looked through the box, pulling aside a couple of classics that he intended to read for himself. He opened the next box, revealing a pile of romance novels. “Bleh. Never mind.” He closed the flap. Why were there so many books here? Pushing the thought from his mind, he got a good look at the tool bench. It had several drawers, all of which were empty when he opened them. Kneeling down, he opened the cabinet doors to reveal that they were also completely empty. Who had a tool bench with no tools? Mike scratched his chin, double checking the drawers to make sure he saw right. He wondered if somebody had stolen them, but then thought of the girl on the front porch. If this place really had been built to harbor a monster collection, then ordinary thieves wouldn’t have a chance. Looking at the boxes, he debated cracking them open, but was convinced that he would only find more books. “Fuck, it’s hot,” he muttered, wiping sweat off his brow. The afternoon sun was turning the place into a bit of a sauna. He resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to leave the house again. Carefully moving through the stacks toward the door, he heard the sound of metal on concrete. Mike froze in place, listening carefully. He closed his eyes, listening carefully. It was faint, but the sound of light fabric across concrete carried to him from the back of the garage. He moved slowly, quietly, maneuvering around the stacks of boxes. A narrow gap between some boxes concealed a small hallway in the back of the garage. Mike breathed out, barely fitting between the stacks. The hallway U-turned, revealing a flight of stairs that went beneath the garage. He descended the concrete steps, moving quietly. Toward the bottom of the steps, he heard it, the unintelligible mutterings of someone up ahead. The voice was raspy, but feminine. He ducked his head, the space just barely over five feet tall. There was just enough light that he saw the pull-cord dangling from the ceiling. He yanked on it, casting light into the dark spaces beneath. Unlike the room above, this room had plenty of space. Boxes along the edge of the room had been decorated with dirty fabric, and it was immediately obvious that the room was originally intended for working on cars-large pit covers up above were sealed and locked shut. Along the back wall of the room was a tool bench littered with tools, and Mike immediately spotted the supplies he had bought earlier. Off to the side was a tiny bed. The muttering he had been listening to had vanished. Of greater interest, however, was the short figure between him and the bench. It stood at around four feet, dark green skin covered in dirt and grime. It’s hair was so dirty that Mike couldn’t make out any color, but did notice that it had been pulled to the side in a wild ponytail. The sudden light had frozen it in place, casting a comical shadow along the back wall. The figure dropped what it had been holding-the screwdriver that Mike had purchased earlier. Mike tried to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t see-thru, so not a ghost (thank God). Where could he even go from here, now that he had discovered the creature’s den. “Those tools belong to me,” he said, trying his best to sound firm. The creature in front of him turned around slowly, squinting into the light. She wore a dress that looked like it had been stitched together from spare furniture covers. A dirty yellow pair of goggles were on top of her head, and she bared her fangs at him, hissing through her teeth. Her tiny hands curled, revealing claws. “Tools are for Tink.” She growled. “All tools are Tink’s tools.” Mike’s heart raced. The thought of this angry little creature attacking him was simply too much. Still, he couldn’t help but stare at her body. Wide set hips accentuated by small breasts, and the side of her makeshift dress had a split up the side, revealing just the edge of her bony hip and the movement of a thin tail with hair at the end. Her ears were wide and pointy, and a tiny nose made her big mouth look even larger. He had no idea what he was looking at. “Uh, okay. Tink, is it?” Mike held his hands up to show that they were empty. “Look here, Tink. I bought those tools so that I can fix the fountain. I can’t fix the fountain without them. May I please have them back?” Tink bared her fangs. “You challenge Tink. Tink fight. Protect goblin home.” “Whoa, whoa.” Mike backed up. “We don’t need to fight Tink, but I need those tools. There’s no reason we need to do this.” Mike ran through his memory, looking for info on goblins, but he was drawing an absolute blank. “Then man leave. Never come back, or Tink fight to protect goblin home.” Tink hunched forward, tossing her goggles to the side of the room. It was now or never. “Let’s talk about-fuck!” Tink leapt across the room, hands spread wide. She tackled Mike, and Mike fell over backward, slamming Tink’s head into the ceiling. “Oh shit, I’m so-hey!” Unfazed, Tink was clawing at him, grabbing handfuls of his t-shirt. He fought back, not wanting to hit her at first due to her size. Unfortunately, it was like tangling with an angry cat. His bandages were quickly shredded, and Tink was busy trying to wrestle him into submission. The low ceiling prevented Mike from standing. Instead, he began rolling around on the floor, doing his best to avoid her teeth, which did shred away the rest of his shirt. As they fought, her dress ripped too, and Mike was soon grappling with a naked goblin on the floor. At first, the fight seemed a sure defeat, but Tink was rapidly tiring. He flipped her on her back, slamming her rock-hard skull on the pavement. It didn’t seem to faze her, but she slowed down quite a bit. Using the moment to his advantage, he crawled on top of her, pinning her in place with the weight of his body. Tink struggled to rise, but Mike had managed to pin one arm down with his knee while holding the other straight. The rest of his body was on top of her torso, and she flopped helplessly for several minutes, quickly tiring. To be continued. By writerannabelle for Literotica