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Britain's Ministry of Justice has issued guidelines on what constitutes extreme porn, and the new offence that is due to come into force on 26th January 2009 [4 Dec 2008] more
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A new study of 185 students at the University of Sydney, has found that male nerdy science students are most likely to be virgins, and female art students, the least [4 Dec 2008] more
Christmas encourages teen sex
A poll of youngsters aged 13-17, found that a third felt they were more likely to have sex over Christmas [4 Dec 2008] more
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Anticipation -Part II
Leaving the plane, and the plane trip, behind me, I continueddown the long, straight connecting tunnel which led to
the gate. Ahead of me, I could see the brightness of the opening
over the heads of the passengers in front. With every step
it got bigger, and a few of the anxious bright faces of greeters
- friends, family, and lovers (I couldn't help but grin)
- became visible. With every step my excite- ment mounted,
and a thousand questions crowded in my head at once. How
would he look? How would he think I looked? How would we greet
each other? Should I just jump him, or allow him to set the
precedent? Would he be cool, or excited?
Would he still love me?
The low tunnel emptied out into the gate, and I spilled alongwith the rest of my crowd into the open. People were everywhere,
pushing, exclaiming, some hugging joyfully, some crying
tearfully, and some kissing passionately. I searched
for one familiar face. The crowd began to thin as the clumps
of reunions wandered off towards baggage claim. Finally,
I was left by myself amongst a few stragglers, the disappointment
like a lead weight on my chest. He wasn't there.
He was stuck in traffic. He forgot the flight. He was in some
horrible accident somewhere. He was picking up flowers
at the last minute. He was...he was...
Well, wherever he was, he wasn't here. I sighed deeply and
slowly trudged to the baggage claim, my eyes still scanning
the near-empty, late-night airport for him. Nothing.
I gritted my teeth as I passed a couple, passionately intertwined,
obliviously groping each other by a water fountain. Disgusting.
There should be rules against that sort of thing. That should
be ME!
Then as I rounded them I caught a glimpse of the man's face
and realized with a start that it was my former seat-mate
from the plane. I couldn't help but smirk and chuckle to
myself as I thought what a treat his girlfriend would receive
later.
At the baggage claim I picked up my two bags and chose a lonely
marble post to rest at. I dropped my bags against it and negligently
sat on them, chin in my hands, and continued to search through
the dwindling crowd. Hoping, but not expecting, the next
face to come into view to be his.
And then, suddenly, it was. Unmistakably. And the look
of him almost stopped my heart. I knew that anxious look
intimately, as I had had it plastered on my own face for several
minutes now. He darted through the crowd at the baggage
claim, head whipping around, eyes darting furtively.
For me. He was looking for me. He'd missed me. Of course.
I drank in the sight of him before he saw me. I always forget
how tall he is, but he towers over the people around him.
Somehow he looked even larger in his starched, pristine
white Navy uniform, and my pulsed raced at the sight of him
in it. Whoever popularized the phrase I love a man in uniform!
was not kidding. Perhaps it was an implied authority, or
just the rugged manliness of it. But I got almost as excited
seeing him in it as I did seeing him out of it.
I caressed his broad shoulders, powerful chest, strong
arms, thick waist, and long legs with my eyes. He was a hulking
brute, I thought. But he was MY brute.
As I rose stiffly from my makeshift couch, at that moment
he looked my way, and caught my eyes. Wordlessly we approached
each other, silently we met, desperately we fell into each
other's arms. No kissing, no groping, just a long, crushing,
fulfilling hug. I buried my face against his chest, he nuzzled
my hair, and life was good again.
When we finally pulled away, we experienced a moment of
awkwardness. We exchanged the how-was-your-flight,
thanks-it-was-fine pleasantries, while he picked up
the heavier of my two bags, and I took the other. We shuffled
quietly out of the terminal and into the parking garage,
saying nothing more until we entered the elevator on the
ground floor.
Once inside, though, my composure cracked. I dropped my
bag, pulled him towards me, and whispered, Kiss me, Brian,
I've missed you so much... Without preamble, he gathered
me into his arms and kissed me hard, his tongue immediately
delving into my mouth, claiming me. His arms held me close,
and I pressed myself closer, until I could feel an unyielding
hardness against my belly button. It thrilled me to know
I did this to him, inspired this excitement in him by my mere
presence. I ground my hips against him, and he pressed closer,
a moan escaping his throat.
We would have torn at each other then and there but for the
loud DING of the elevator as it came to a halt and the doors
slid open. Mercifully, there was noone waiting just outside
to witness our discomposure. We separated reluctantly,
took up the bags, and trundled to his car.
We talked casually in the car about little stuff, stuff
so little it's not even worth recalling. During the ride
to the motel, though, I derived great pleasure from teasing
him with my touch. His car was a manual, so his hands were
primarily occupied with the mechanics of driving. But
I had no such restrictions. I ran my fingers lovingly through
his hair, I rubbed the back of his neck, then slid my hand
down his arm. I squeezed his hand between shifting gears
and then rested my hand on his thigh. Occasionally, the
car would hit a bump and my hand would 'accidentally' slip
down farther on his thigh, resting lightly on the inner
surface. Another jolt, and my hand moved inwards, until
my pinky just touched the cloth-clad hardness camped between
his legs.
So innocent, so unintended. His light chatter drifted
off into silence, and we both stared out the front window,
he watching the traffic, I watching the passing scenery.
But through the pretense I knew he was wondering how far
I would go with that left hand of mine. So far my touching
had been intentionless.
We stopped at a light, and started again. As he shifted from
gear to gear, I could feel the shifting of his muscles through
my hand on his inner thigh. His strength excited me, and
elicited delicious images of his strength applied to a
more erotic purpose. My thoughts surreptitious- ly directed
my actions, and by the time he had shifted into overdrive,
I had moved my hand to cradle his erection, not overly large
but just as strong as the rest of him. I squeezed him firmly.
His body tensed and I heard the breath hiss out of him. He
said nothing as I squeezed him again, then scratched my
nails lightly over the fabric.
I slowly teased him, taunted him, and me. The promise of
ecstasy under fabric was more than I could bear. I hummed
softly as I deftly fingered the tab of his zipper, and slowly
pulled it down. I reached inside his fly and stroked his
cock through one less layer of clothing, his briefs all
that were separating the heat of his skin from my eager hand.
Brian had always lamented the design of men's briefs, particularly
the annoying overlapped opening in the front. What's
the point of trying to thread your penis this way and that
way to get it out, when you can just pull the waistband down
under it? Normally, he had a point. Right now, I blessed
that silly flap as my hand sank down into his underwear and
closed around his shaft, pressed up against his belly.
I looked up to peer at his reaction, and was rewarded. His
eyes bored straight ahead, intent on his driving, but his
jaw was clenched, and his nostrils flared with his accelerated
breathing. His knuckles on the steering wheel were white
with tension.
My heart thudded with excitement as I stroked his cock,
the satin feel of it making me almost dizzy with desire,
which I voiced. I want this, I said, I want this so badly.
His jaw unclenched, and worked back and forth as if to relieve
a kink, and he finally replied, Jesus, Holly... I heard
the strain in his voice. You know I can't stay with you when
we get there... He was referring to the fact that he had
to return to his classroom and study for his exam the next
day, which is something I had understood and agreed to before
I even bought the plane ticket. But that didn't mean I had
to like it. And I was going to make damn sure he didn't either!
I squeezed his cock again and slowly ran the soft part of
my thumb over his slit, pressing it downward and rubbing
it slowly. I could feel the precum slick the skin of my thumb,
and my heat escalated a notch. So? I said, in my best 1-900
voice. The huskiness of it was so deep it surprised even
me a little.
Brian didn't even look at me, just gnashed his teeth and
clutched the wheel desperately. The car was speeding so
fast I wondered if he had the accelerator all the way to the
floor. He finally worked up a reply, So...goddammit don't
TEASE me like this!! he blurted.
Ahha. So now _I_ had the control. I remembered a similar
circumstance in the distant but recently-remembered
(heh) past when the roles had been reversed. Again I felt
a thrill of power. I was about to say something else when,
with a grunt, Brian braked heavily and turned abruptly,
and with more than a little burnt rubber streaked on it,
left the street. I looked up to see we had arrived at the parking
lot of the motel. Awww...
As Brian parked, I removed my hand from his fly, with excruciating
reluctance. He stared at me silently with eyes of fire as
he brusquely zipped himself up, then unbuckled his seatbelt
and made as if to get out. Instead he lunged across the gear
shift, pinned me to the side of the car, and ravaged my mouth.
His hands slipped up my sides and roughly fondled my breasts
through my shirt for several long moments while he kissed
me. I was in heaven. Part of the pleasure of gaining control
over him has always been the part when he gets back at me.
Just thinking of how he would pay me back later left my pussy
oozing.
Finally, he left me, panting and grinning (both of us!),
while he checked in at the front desk of the motel. As I watched
him walk away from the car, I admired his ass (not a butt -
it takes a special kind of butt to be an ASS), and it occurred
to me that he was parading boldly up to the reception desk
with a raging hard-on, and I grinned again. Another thing
I loved about Brian was that he was never ashamed for people
to notice that he was turned on. While I waited I also dropped
a hand between my legs to gently stroke my damp mound underneath
my shorts. I longed to drop them and help myself to several
orgasms right then and there. Or better yet, jump Brian
as soon as he came back to the car, but I decided to prolong
the agony until later. When I came, I decided, it would be
with his cock inside of me. There was no better way.
To the reader: You're probably wondering by now, after
these several pages of buildup, where the SEX is!! My thoughts
exactly. To this point, I had only had tastes of what was
to come. The lovely orgasm on the plane, and the constant
cock-teasing on the way from the airport, had me primed
so much for sex, so much for a good, hard fuck, that my sex-fogged
brain was struggling all the way from the parking lot to
our room to form a reconciliation between my raging need
which threatened to burn me up from the inside-out, and
the necessity of waiting until Brian could return to me
at the motel later.
Brian set my luggage down on the doorstep to our room and
opened the door with our room key, then set my stuff just
inside the door. Before I could move to enter the room myself,
however, he put one arm around me, stooped, and swept me
off my feet. I stuttered speachlessly, and he quieted me
with a quick, soft kiss. I know it's not our honeymoon,
but it might as well be, he said.
That was it for me. I didn't know whether to come or cry. What
I did do was allow Brian to ease me through the door and set
me gently down, then I reached both arms around him and pushed
the door shut with a slam, effectively caging him against
the door. Then I dove for his neck, my lips and tongue making
a bee-line for his hot spot at the base of his throat. I sucked
and tongued it madly while my hands rapidly undid the belt
at his waist. Before he could object I shoved his pants and
briefs out of the way, and hauled his stiff prick out into
the open. It looked thick and purple-red and absolutely
gorgeous between our bodies like that, and I wanted nothing
more than to just stuff it into my aching cunt and ride him
until I died of pleasure.
Sadly, that was not to be. Even then Brian had just started
to recover his wits enough to try to stop me, unintelligibly
mumbling something about having to get back to the classroom.
I slapped one hand over his mouth with one hand, and stroked
his straining cock with the other, as I efficiently explained
the situation: Brian, now I can't possibly be so cruel
as to send you back to study with THIS, at which point I
tugged gently on his shaft, distracting you the whole
time. You'd never get anything done, and you'd fail your
test tomorrow. I removed my hand from his mouth and sank
down to my knees, so that I was eye level with his glorious
cock. Besides, I said to it, my breath caressing it hotly,
this will only take a minute. Indeed, I fully expected
him to shoot about as fast as a Navy ballistic missile. After
all, it had been three months of waiting, and several, several
minutes of teasing. Finally, my case pled, I closed my lips
over his cockhead and sucked.
The moment my mouth encompassed the head of his prick, Brian's
objections stopped, and he began moaning. Obviously,
he had seen the wisdom of my irrefutable arguments. His
hands found my hair, and wound themselves through the silky
curls, using it to pull my head further into his groin. For
my part, I dispensed with the finesse I usually exhibit
when fellating him. My purpose this time was simply to suck
him off as quickly as possible. Without preamble I swallowed
the entire length of his shaft, lodging his knob firmly
into the back of my throat, and turned on the suction full
throttle. My cheeks caved in, and my tongue plastered itself
to the underside of his cock, rubbing up and down. Brian
went wild, and with his hands still in my hair, began thrusting
his hips against me, fucking his cock into my mouth rapidly.
Reader, I would love to draw this out, long and hot, in apology
for taking so long to get here. But I wasn't kidding about
the ballistic missile gag (no pun intended). Within minutes,
Brian was shooting three months worth of stored cum down
my throat, and I was diligently swallowing every bit of
it as if they hadn't fed me on the plane. By then his cock was
jammed so far back into my throat I literally didn't taste
a thing. Dang.
While he was busy filling my gullet with his hot sperm, I
looked up to watch him. This was, absolutely, the best reward
I could have under the circumstances. Whenever I'm not
cumming myself, I love to watch him. To me, the pleasure
reflected in his face is one of the most beautiful things
in the world. He didn't make a sound. He never does when he
orgasms. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes tightly
shut, and while his face turned bright red, he tossed his
head back and forth from side to side. He looked for all the
world like a baby being born. It would have been a tossup
as to what side of me it truly appealed to, the lover in me
or the mother in me. No matter.
When he was finally done, I gently released him from my mouth.
Brian finally allowed himself to exhale explosively,
his body shuddering one last time, and his head fell back
to bump with a soft thud against the door at his back. His
death grip on my hair loosened, and he stroked my head with
infinite gentleness and gratitude while I licked his shrinking
penis clean with loving strokes. I then carefully replaced
it into his briefs as if I were laying a baby to rest, which
I was. I knew it would wake up later to be fed again. With a
nurturing touch I tucked him in and smoothed his briefs
over him. Finally, I stood.
When I stood fully erect, I looked up to meet his gaze. The
love that I saw there was heart-stopping. My heart did not
stop, but my love for this man was so overpowering it brought
tears to my eyes. A salty droplet streaked down my cheek.
Brian kissed my forehead and pulled me to him in a tender
embrace, and we held each other that way for a long moment.
I love you, he said. I love you too, I said. Cliche,
but true.
Finally, I stepped away from him, and assisted in replacing
his Navy issue trousers to their regulation spiffiness.
I had so conscientiously swallowed his cum that not a drop
marred their pristine whiteness. The only blemish in his
otherwise immaculate uniform was a damp spot, located
approximately over his heart, where some of my tears had
soaked into his shirt. He noticed my scrutiny, then the
spot, and smiled back at me. It'll dry, he said.
He kissed me one last time, promised to be back in a few hours,
and eased out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
From the time he had carried me into the motel room, to when
he shut the door behind him, less than ten minutes had passed.
And already I looked forward bleakly to the next few hours,
and eagerly to his return. My frustrated pussy still throbbed
with denied need, but the orgasm score was now tied. I had
given us both a taste of what was to cum. And I was hungry for
more!
End of Part II - Anticipation
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