Two ?Cabbage Patch? dolls grown in Eru’s own garden in need of re-homing to a place with less light and more brimstone. Must be adopted as a pair. Comes with free glue-on angry eyebrows!
…miután a nádban rejtőzve, a partról megfigyeltél ahogy felfrissültem a hideg vízben, te végül megszabadultál a ruháidtól és mögém surrantál a sekély vízen át.
Hirtelen megéreztem a kezed a fenekemen. Megdermedve maradok abban a helyzetben, ahogy a fotó készült. A kezed megsimogatja a popsimot és lesiklik a hasadéka mentén. A középső ujjad újra meg újra megérinti a végbélnyílásomat, végül a lábaim között tovább vándorol a pinám felé. Benedvesedve az ázott szeméremajkaimtól, te hirtelen becsúsztatod ujjad a fenéklyukamba, ami enyhe nyögést vált ki belőlem.
A másik kezeddel közben megragadtad a hajam és hátrahúztad a fejem. Erős fogással a seggemet a felálló, kemény faszod elé húzod, és hagyod hogy a szeméremajkaim között a hüvelyembe csússzon.
Most a kezed játéka megszűnt a végbélnyílásomnál és megragadtad az egyik csuklómat. Elkezdesz állva baszni, szorosan fogva a hajcsomómat. A melleim egyforma ritmusban lendülnek oda- vissza, felcsapódnak felső testemre és egymásra. Most megragadod a másik csuklómat, a hasadhoz húzol és meghajlítod a hátam. Melleim azonos ritmusban himbálóznak ágyéki lökéseddel. Gyorsabban és keményebben megdugsz… addig míg el nem élvezel és hagyod mellkasodat a hátamra zuhanni. Nehezen lélegzel. Végül kihúzod belőlem a faszodat. A sperma lassan kiszivárog a vulvámból és a combjaimon át az alattunk áramló vízbe.
Akkor elengedsz engem elsurransz mint ahogy jöttél. Néhány percig még remegő térddel állok ott. Mielőtt észrevétlenül eltávolodsz tőlem, még készítesz néhány mobiltelefon-fotót rólam, míg én mereven állok a vízben egy jóleső ijedtséggel, meztelenül…
Once in the bedroom, Marion kissed O so deeply that it took her breath away and O felt her loins melting. She allowed Marion to undress her – first unbuttoning her blouse and pulling it off. As Marion unfastened O’s bra and let it fall to the floor, she looked at O’s breasts. She said, “You know, you really do not need to wear a bra. I know those push up bras you wear make your boobs look bigger, but they are a nice, natural size as is. Besides, without one, your nipples would be noticeable even though a winter blouse; they always seem erect.”
O answered, giggling, “They certainly are now.” And Marion kissed them. As Marion was kissing and caressing O’s breasts, O reached down and unfastened her skirt which joined her blouse and bra on the floor. Marion pushed O onto the bed, then pulled off O’s panties. She looked again at O and said, “And I like the way you shave yourself down there. It’s quite fashionable now. So much neater than when we were in lycée.”
O responded, “I started doing it when I was in Brazil. Everyone there does it. Shave and wax.”
Marion responded, “Well, it suits my purpose.No hairs stuck in my teeth.” And she spread O’s legs and knelt on the bed.
“Not so fast,” said O. “You get naked too. I want to see you.”
Marion quickly shed all of her clothing and got back on the bed. She kissed O again – hard on the mouth. Then worked her way down O’s body – first to O’s breasts, then across her flat belly, down to her hairless sex. O moaned a little as Marion pushed a finger into her. Then O pushed up and rolled over so that she was on top of the larger woman. “My turn,” she whispered. Then O worked her way down from Marion’s mouth to her large breasts with dark, almost brownish purple nipples.
O said, “I can see why you wear a bra all the time, these are monstrous. I bet the models who have had breast augmentation are green with envy when they see you.”
Marion responded, “But they would certainly be green with envy if they could see who I was in bed with. O, you do know that many of the other models want to have you.”
O said, “Yes, but now I have you!” And O’s tongue moved into Marion’s waiting sex. It didn’t take long for Marion to come.
O was a bit of a mystery at La Femme Mediterranean. Her photography work continued to improve, and she was quite well suited for modeling in certain advertisement campaigns, especially for casual sportswear, bathing suits and lingerie. She was friendly enough with the other staff, but rarely socialized with them after work – except with her lycée chum, Marion. But O was aware that most of the male staff wanted to bed her, as did several of the female staff. And, of course, there were those who thought O to be a complete self-centered bitch.
One day, one of the managers came to O and said, “I have a new assignment for you. You seem to hit it off with a certain type of woman and we have an ad campaign for Adore Moi lingerie. The concept is for two models to appear in the lingerie with a very erotic, yet tasteful, encounter. Do you think you might be able to capture that on film?”
O answered, “Certainly.”
“By the way, the two models are Alessa A. and Doutzen. The shoot will be next Tuesday.”
O had heard of both of them. Both were in their late 20’s at the time. Alessa was a brunette beauty and had the reputation of being fairly easy to work with. This was not the case for Doutzen, though. Although she was considered to be one of the most beautiful women in the world, she had a reputation of being difficult to work with. O had read in the tabloids that she was dating a very rich man, Ari M. who was half Egyptian and half Greek. Ari was a well know ladies’ man and Doutzen had the reputation of being very jealous. The tabloids all speculated on how long their relationship might last.
That night O couldn’t wait to tell Marion about her new assignment. She practically ran to Marion’s apartment to tell her. Marion was suitably impressed and told O some gossip she had learned that wasn’t common knowledge. “You know, O, I have it from a reliable source that both Doutzen and Alessa swing both ways.”
O said she didn’t understand what Marion meant. Marion continued, “I mean they are both bisexual, as well as being drop dead gorgeous. I bet if you provide some encouragement – perhaps a little wine and weed, you might be able to get them interested in one another and then you would have a truly ‘hot’ shoot. Management would love it. Sales for Adore Moi would spike, and you’d probably get a promotion.”
O said, “That’s a very good idea.”
To which Marion replied, “And since you and I are between men, let me show you what I’m talking about.” Then Marion took O by the hand and led her into the bedroom.
O continued to work at the magazine doing routine photographs of house models in clothing that the magazine was publicizing – tending towards sporting casual or lingerie. As O had the type of figure that suited this type of clothing, she was also called on to model at times. She was quite happy with this arrangement. But while O was always courteous with the other models and magazine staff, she did not really get close to any of them. This all changed when a woman named Marion, was hired as a secretary for one of the senior managers. Marion was a couple of years older than O, but she and Marion had been friends at Lycee. She was perhaps O’s best friend there after Yasmin. O felt comfortable talking to and confiding in Marion.
O would meet with Marion after work. The two would sometimes have dinner together or go to a bar and have drinks. Sometimes they would go back to Marion’s apartment and just talk. Marion had had several lovers, but was not involved with anyone at present. O was in the same situation in a fashion. O had several short affairs (or one night stands), but still pined for Robert who was most likely dead. O confided to Marion that while she would sometimes have sex with the men she dated, she had never had an orgasm with any of them.
Marion responded that O should masturbate more often. Then she told O that was her ‘hobby’ now that she was in between lovers. When she mentioned this, O thought back to a time when she was fifteen and a student at Lycee. Marion was in her last year at the time; both girls had gone to Marion’s parents’ apartment. O had gone to the toilet and when she returned there was Marion sprawled on a big stuffed chair, one leg hanging over the side ad caressing herself while she moaned in pleasure. O was both shocked and disgusted. She had said, “Marion, what are you doing?”
Marion had answered, “Pleasing myself. It feels so good. Why don’t you try it and I’ll watch.”
Of course, O had declined. But now, seven years later, here was Marion advocating for masturbation again. “O, did you ever masturbate in front of this man, Robert?”
O shook her head and said, “No. Never. He never asked me to. Besides I just couldn’t.” Then a moment later, she asked, “Have you ever masturbated in front of a man?”
Marion laughed and said, “Of course, why do you think I left my last job and came to the magazine?”
O answered, “I have no idea.”
Marion said, “At my last job, I had a private office. One day I was masturbating at work when my boss walked in and caught me.“
“Oh no. Did you run away?”
“No,” Marion answered. “He told me to begin again, but to remove my panties. Then he locked the door to my office and pushed my chair over to the window.”
“Oh my God! Did anyone see you?”
“No. But the thought that someone, anyone really, might be walking by and look up and see me playing with myself really turned me on. I came after only a few moments. Then my boss smiled and said, ‘Good girl.’ Then he picked up my panties and walked out the door. I was fired the next day, but he gave me an excellent recommendation, so I got hired here quite quickly.”
“Amazing,” said O. “I just couldn’t do that. Never in a million years.”
Marion responded, “Oh yes you could. Just wait until your lover asks you to.”
One day on her lunch hour O was strolling along a side street near the La Femme Mediterranean office where she worked as a photographer and part time model. She passed a book shop and looked at some of the titles displayed in the window. One in particular caught her eye., titled ‘Wisdom of the Lash.’ O’s heart raced; it was the same title as the book she had found in a drawer in the bedside table at Humberto’s estate in Brazil, along with ‘The Sex Slaves of the Barbary Pirates’ and a copy of the Bible. The same book that O had read and masturbated to when her mentor and lover, Robert, first went off to do nature photography in the interior. But this book was larger – a hardback not a small paperback. And below the title was a caption that read ‘illustrated by Loic Dubigeon. O stared at it in fascination.
Intrigued, O went into the book shop. It was small and not well lit inside. There were literally thousands of books lining the shelves inside and a large table in the middle of the store with many books piled randomly on top of one another. O saw a copy of ‘Wisdom of the Lash,’ the same book that was in the window. Cautiously she leafed through the pages. As she did so, O’s heart raced. The illustrations were pencil drawings showing women being led in chains, sexually abused, whipped and otherwise tortured. The drawings were so life-like, that they appeared to be almost photographic. The book had sections containing pages of text followed by illustrations. As O turned the pages, she felt a tingling within herself.
Suddenly a voice called out from the back of the store. “Can I help you, Mademoiselle? Have you found something you like?” O looked up and a wizened old man, probably in his 70’s emerged from the back of the store. He looked quite unkempt with graying hair that needed washing hanging down around his ears. O was sure he had been watching her. She steadied herself as a child might do who has been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and said, “This title. I think I have read it previously, but it was not illustrated. I’m a photographer and the illustrations are really quite vivid.”
The old book seller replied, “Yes. Quite.”
O went on, “Is it a republished novel.”
“Oh no. I don’t believe so. It’s rather old. And I have only two copies. Are you interested in buying, or just looking at it here in the store? If you like it, I have similar books – all illustrated – in the back.” The old man said the latter with a sly grin.
O felt uncomfortable when the old man said that but retained her calm.
“No. I’m not interested in any other books. But I would like to purchase this one.”
“Certainly. Would you like for me to wrap in. You know, to preserve your privacy about what you like to read.”
This time O blushed slightly, but said, “Yes. I guess so.”
A short time later, O walked into the La Femme Mediterranean building. Her assistant, Coraline, said, “O, the managing editor wants to see you right away.” O placed the book wrapped in paper on her desk and went to his office. Marion smiled as O approached and said, Go on in. He’s expecting you.” O went in and the editor, a large balding man with a no-nonsense reputation looked up. He said, “O, do you know what BDSM stands for?”
O enjoyed her life as a young Parisian. After all she had a good job as a photographer and occasional work as a model. Sometimes after a fashion shoot, O got to keep the clothes she had modeled. She had reconnected with a friend from her days at the lycee’, Marion. Marion became the close friend that O had not had since she lost touch with Yasime in Brazil. The two women would meet, drink coffee or wine together and either reminisce or gossip. Marion was a little older than O and had a good job in a business. O wasn’t quite sure exactly what Marion did at the business, but she must have been fairly important as she had her own office there.
After work she had immediately gone to Marion’s apartment to tell her friend about the upcoming assignment. Of course, she still had the illustrated copy of ‘Wisdom of the Lash’ with her as she didn’t want to leave it at work.
O had knocked on the door. Marion had invited her in and poured them a glass of wine. O literally gulped down the first glass; she was so excited about her upcoming assignment. She told Marion almost verbatim what the editor, Adolphe had said. Marion was impressed. As she poured O another glass of wine she asked, “And just what do you know about BDSM, O? O responded, “Not a whole lot. I have read a couple of books with that as a theme.” O paused, remembered her copy of ‘Wisdom of the Lash’ that she had with her and said, “But, Marion, I just happen to have a book about it with me. Want to see?”
Marion had said, “Sure,” so O unwrapped the book from its brown paper covering and handed it to Marion who looked at the cover and said, “’Wisdom of the Lash.’ Sounds interesting.” Then she had thumbed the pages scanning the text but concentrating on the illustrations. Marion took a sip of her wine, smiled and said, “O, why don’t we go lie in bed and read this book together?” O had readily agreed.
They read aloud a few passages and studied the illustrations together for a while. Then…
Later after making love, Marion said, “O, you hardly ever come when I play with you, but you always make me have the best orgasms.” O replied, “Yes, I know. I just couldn’t tonight. You weren’t doing anything wrong. And I was just about on the ceiling, but I just couldn’t get over the edge.”
Marion said, “Hmm, I have an idea.” She quickly got up and went to the clothes drawer along the wall of her bedroom. There she pulled out four silk scarves. Then Marion proceeded to tie O spread eagle to the bed, tying her wrists and ankles to the four posts of the bed.
O giggled and said, “Now what?”
Marion responded in a harsh voice, “Shut up, bitch! Or I’ll flog you.” O sensing what Marion was doing responded, Oh, please Mistress. Don’t whip me.”
What she was seeing in her mind’s eye, what she had never been able to forget, what still filled her with the same sensation of nausea and disgust that she had felt when she had first witnessed it when she was seventeen, was the image of Marion slumped in the leather armchair in a hotel room, Marion with one leg sprawled over one arm of the chair and her head half hanging over the other, caressing herself in her, O’s, presence, and moaning. Marion had related to her how she had one day caressed herself this way in her office when she had thought she was alone, and her boss had happened to walk in and caught her in the act. O remembered Marion’s office, a bare room with pale green walls, with the north light filtering in through dusty windows. There was only one easy chair, intended for visitors, facing the table. “Did you run away?” O had asked. “No,” Marion had answered, “he asked me to begin all over again, but he locked the door, made me take off my panties, and pushed the chair over in front of the window.” O had been overwhelmed with admiration - and with horror - for what she took to be Marion’s courage, and had steadfastly refused to fondle herself in Marion’s presence and sworn that she never would, in anyone’s presence. Marion had laughed and said: “You’ll see. Wait till your lover asks you to.”
