An erotic Journey back into the Sea!
The phone was ringing constantly, the type writer under my busy fingers was getting in heat and hot coffee was throwing steaming clouds from my cup. The clock over the door was ticking in slow motion as if having to push its hands through thick royal jelly - but it was just a couple of hours to my holidays anyway!
My job in this publishing house was everything else than boring. Not only because we were specialised in erotic fiction, more because the whole house seemed to radiate an arousing atmosphere that couldn't be ignored that simply. All the people working here: the authors and the agents, the lectors and the typesetters carried an aura of immense knowledge about sex and eroticism as well as an endless eagerness to profit from any further experience.
And I admired the writers who wrote so live-ly about sexuality that it just had to touch you! I tried and tried by myself, but my stories definitely lacked experience! But I promised myself that I would try harder this holidays - to gather experience and to put it on paper . . .
My sixteenth birthday was in March, but my sexual awakening bloomed already a few years earlier, and my virginity is definitely lost. I can hardly recall the pain or the face of the pissed bloke I allowed to do that naughty ne-cessity. All I remember is the rough bark of the tree against my back and the bl**dy mess in my panties. There was absolutely no romance to the deed and it was happening so fast that there is no memory of any feeling left in me.
But I have pretty clear pictures of my earlier curious explorations of the other gender: the doctor games with the neighbour's son on Sun-day afternoons in the potting shed, whilst my parents made siesta or love.
I remember the overwhelming arousal of sneaking into the dark and humid cabin where I had my appointment, the heat in my blushing face when the doctor asked me about the lo-cation of the pain. I pointed always to my belly, and then I was ordered to lay back onto the icy cold stainless steel potting table.
There was never any kissing going on and my young and aching titties never got any at-tention as well. But the sensation, when my best Sunday-dress got pushed up over my hips and belly to expose my already lust-stained little knickers, was just so delicious!
The doctor never found the reason for my malaise around the belly-button and he always suggested that it must be further down.
And whenever he slowly pulled the panties down over my first sprouting hair - I closed my eyes in anticipation to this thrilling mix of sin and sex! I knew it was forbidden, but didn't exactly that made it ever so sweet? What I defi-nitely knew was, that it was for sure one of the most important factors of growing up!
But I didn't find satisfaction in those times: his fingers were cold when he spread my legs and fondled my pubis, and all his instruments were cold as well! That was why I was looking for other excitements to grow up further.
It was a complete new experience for me to be taken out to the drive-in movies by an older guy in his fathers car. Not because of the movies, it was more because of the secludedness and closeness on the front bench, the smells of fake leather, bad breath and transpiration that made me feel like a grown-up.
The endless and wet kissing and his roaming hand under my shirt, the strangle of the pushed-up bra, my nipples hard and swollen. The free-ing feeling when my jeans button came undone and the zipper went down, the searching fingers in my panties and the first petting exploring ra-ther clumsily my tight inside.
But I was sure that there must be more to it than that to be an adult! But in those times I wasn't a wanker, to touch myself didn't excite me at all - I was completely convinced that I was in desperate need for that thing that was commonly called dick, and what the boys we-re hiding away from me so extreme success-fully in their pants up to now!
And that was exactly the moment to come back to the neighbour's son - I had a cunning plan! I told him, that if he wants to play the game again, he would be the patient!
He wasn't all too happy to lose the leading role, but he made an appointment in the end. And even as he declared some pain in his chest, I didn't care. I had a quick look, but then I freed my patient straight away from his pants and undies and directed my undivided attention the the object of my solemn desire.
And there it was: nestled in the rusty-red curls like a huge maggot, flinching to my touch. The two hairy balls underneath were rolling restlessly from side to side - it was a most pecu-liar sight! Was that it? I pulled and rubbed, it grew longer and bigger, and the boy started to moan. A shiny pink bulb rose out of the wrink-led skin, and a tiny drop of dew emanated from the little opening on the tip - like a feed of clear honey for a busy bee.
I was excited, and the patient seemed to en-joy the caress, because his dick got all hard and the glans on top got glossy and darker, like a ripe plum. I didn't know how that would end, but so suddenly the boy jerked and spurted his glue right into my face.
I was on the brink to give up sex forever - this stuff was shockingly embarrassing! I run out the door, sperm dribbling down my chin. But on the other hand I was pretty sure that I made a very important discovery that day!
And when I hung around the disco next night with the d***ken bikers, I was ready for the worst. When one of the biggest guys went around the side into the backyard for a piss I was following him instinctively.
I watched him urinating in a big bow, frozen with fear and desire. Leaning against a tree in the shadow I was shaking between the cold of the night and the heat in my body.
He saw me, came closer, and without any word he pressed me with the weight of his heavy body against the stem. Without a kiss and without a foreplay he ripped my jeans open and my panties down to my knees - and after not much more than thirty seconds he left me there, bleeding and crying, and completely without the satisfaction I was longing for . . .
The door of my office swung open and our new sales manager swept in to take a seat right in front of me on one of the rare free spaces of my overloaded desk. First he looked with un-hidden interest down at my thighs where my tight red dress ended just a few inches higher than it really should!
I ignored his gaze and answered the phone. After I wrote the incoming order down and said politely: Goodbye and thank you very much!, he asked me for a copy of an order from more than seven years ago.
I told him that we stored these relics in the attic room and that I could give him a hand with finding it. But with his eyes nearly falling into the low neck of my dress I regretted that in-stantly. What ever he was thinking was not what I did! But then with a deep sigh I switched the phone onto the common line and showed him the way up the stairs.
And there was that small door with that set of steep steps behind it, going up into the attic. I led the way and was very aware of how much he was going to see of my long legs, maybe even an eye full of my little hairy mouse, then since a year I didn't bother about underwear any-more! First it was uncomfortable, and second I felt so much freer and sexier without it! Just to touch a seat with your bare bottom was an un-believable arousing feeling!
But, yes, a couple of his fingers were alrea-dy high up my left inner thigh for a short but bold inspecting routine! I took two hasty steps at once to get rid of him and when we both we-re standing in the barely lit little room full of filing cabinets and dusty cardboard boxes he just innocently smiled at me.
I pointed to the side where his old order was most likely to be found and we started to rum-mage through drawers and cupboards, chasing some lazy spiders away. It was extremely hot and dusty up there and I sighed with relief when our new manager found a small button to start a fan in the roof.
He murmured that I was wearing too much anyway and that he could help me to take something off. Then he was already behind me, grabbing me by my hips and pulling me back to lean onto something that I recognised instantly as a very hard dick!
He then turned me around and kissed me straight on my mouth. It took me a little while to get accustomed to the fact but then I opened my lips to let his hungry tongue in.
He was kissing me in on-going fury and his hands were already on their way over my bul-ging buttocks. They slipped under the hem of my tiny dress, exploring my bare flesh, sliding over my soft belly downwards to the little patch of moist curly hair, and even further!
Our manager was kissing me constantly as if to take my awareness off his roaming hands. But when one of his fingers suddenly and a bit too eagerly tried to penetrate me, I clenched my thighs together and pulled back.
His passionate kissing though was still going on - and with sunshine, sand and sea in my mind I relaxed again! My passionate lover turned me around again, rolled my flaming red dress up to my waist and bent me over the small table in the middle of the little room.
First he caressed my fully exposed buttocks with appreciation, then he pushed eagerly into me and my upper body was grinding to his rhythm backwards and forwards over the rough surface of the old wooden desk.
My breasts were tickling with excitement and I hid my face in my hands, focussing entirely on my personal inner feelings. And when he nearly reached the point of no return he slowed down, wanting us to come together.
A bell was ringing in my ears - and the phone was ringing downstairs - when he suddenly ex-ploded deep inside me and instantly triggered by that my own orgasm as well.
Then I smoothed down my dress and I tried to look nice. We had forgotten about the silly old order in one of the dusty drawers. He grinned at me so innocently again and wished me all the best for my vacation.
We went down the stairs, still weak at the knees and with an expression on our faces as if nothing had happened at all. Although a treacly remnant of our spontaneous intimate session made its way slowly down my inner thigh.
It was already later than I thought - still not quite time to quit work, but I packed my bag and said goodbye to all my baffled fellows. I left the office and took the bus downtown to meet a friend at the gym. I hadn't known Sibill for long, but she was good fun and today she wanted to play squash with me.
For about half an hour we chased each other around in the small cubical room without win-dows. We were already steaming when Sibill hit a hard ball straight into my left breast. Outch!, I cried out in pain! My friend looked very sorry and apologised. And as we didn't feel like playing any more we walked over to the changing rooms. We groped through our bags for a towel and some douche-gel and I stepped into one of the free cabins. But even before I could shut the door my friend was swiftly slipping in with me. Chuckling she pressed me against the wall, mumbling that she just wanted to have a short glimpse if I was bruised.
She pulled my sweaty training top slowly up and carefully over my still heaving bosom, pre-tending a close inspection: there was a small round red spot and she soothed the pain with a few little butterfly-kisses.
My pink nipples started to harden and so were her's, sticking out through her sweaty shirt like two push buttons, pointing directly at me. She rubbed them with a sigh against my own, expanding our already mounting arousal.
There we stood: tits on tits, nipple on nipple, and our hard pelvic bones were grinding into each other. And behind my moist bush something started to twitch delightfully.
I told her that it was time for a shower, smiled weakly at her and pulled her shirt over her head. She did the same to me and then went straight down to undo the button of my sport shorts, and when they fell to the floor I just had to step out of the white cotton circle.
In a flash she was completely naked as well, she turned the hot water on and giggling we stepped under the steaming cascade. Imme-diately she started to spread gel all over my prickling skin and she massaged it in, everywhere!
Softly over the bruise on my breast, into the little belly-button, onto the two pert peaches of my bum and into the curled fur of my pussy-cat. Our knees were wobbly and we had to hold onto each other in a tender hug until the waves of the following storm were ebbing away.
For a long time we just stood there, kissing, rubbing and hugging, then we rinsed each other off and got dressed.
In the stylish bistro we drank a few beers and consumed a big plate of healthy salads. Already a bit tipsy from the alcohol we decided to go to the movies.
There was a movie on about a scientist woman who was researching the communication between dolphins and humans – and that sounded pretty interesting to me!
Since early c***dhood I had this unexplainable attraction towards dolphins, and they came up frequently in my dreams. I never touched one, but I seemed to know exactly how smooth their skin was and how firm their muscles.
The theatre was dark and the movie was just starting. We squeezed together into the corner of the last row.
Not before long my friend slid down a bit on her chair and rested her head on my shoulder. I reacted with tenderness and put one arm around her.
She placed one hand gratefully on the bare skin of my leg, stroking a few times to and fro. I just imagined, that her fingers moved slowly up my thighs and under the hem of my short red dress. That they reached the part of my groin were the skin is the softest and the most sensitive. I would open my legs in expectation and I would arch my back. And the sensation would be just unbelievable exquisite...
The lady in the movie lived in a huge house with a big pool that was connected to the open sea through a channel. The dolphins swum in and out by their free will. And with pushing a red button with their nose something like a stretcher lifted them softly out of the water up to the second floor. That was amazing! The lady slept there and had all the computer gear to communicate with this clever a****ls...
Entering the busy street life outside the cinema we hugged intimately because of our secret joys and I promised her another game of squash in two weeks time.
When I reached my flat I stretched myself very happily onto my bed and opened my new textbook, I chewed a few minutes on my pen, but then I started to write:
»Suddenly the poor girl found herself lying on a cold flat surface in a white tiled room, strapped by wrists and ankles with both feet far apart. She was dressed in a thin but tight black overall from neck to toe that didn't do much to prevent the icy cold of the table from penetrating her back, which was making her shiver. Around her hovered three silent black nuns without faces but somehow they were staring down at her. The one at her feet held a long pair of scissors and started to cut slowly into one leg of the taut dress-up.
She couldn't believe it and tried to pull away, but the straps held her firmly in place. The cut grew longer all the way up the shin, over the kneecap and up to the thighs. The thin black fabric slid apart and cool air touched the freshly bared skin.
The same procedure took place on the other leg and without hesitation the icy scissors made their cruel way over the pubic mound and tensed belly, and up between her tender titties. When they reached the neck of the dress her whole front was exposed to the freezing temperature in the room.
The strange nuns didn't seem to show any emotion at all, not even when the determined scissors cut with a snap through the straps of the lacy bra and freed her trembling bosom to their missing eyes.
With another two snips the panties fell apart. One nun fastened a wide strap right over her hips. The poor girl wriggled her little bottom helplessly in the restraining bonds and she was shivering from the cold as well as from the thrilling situation.
The nun between my feet rolled two clinical rubber gloves over her pale bony hands and started to fondle the rosy lips...«
No, it just didn't sound right! I gave up the attempt of creation and went to sl**p...