From: Ed Lalribs <testing411@aol.com>
Subject: violent dreams4
Newsgroups: alt.sex.necrophilia
Listen: if you're under 18, don't read past this note - in fact, GET OUT OF THIS NEWSGROUP if you want the net still to be uncensored when you ARE 18!
I don't know how I find these women, or how they find me. Some kind of chemical on our breath of which we are subconciously aware, telepathy, luck. I find myself connected with women -- and men, too -- with a love for death, for ritual, for execution. It's different than bondage, or domination, or pain.
I'm a musician, often on the road. On a long tour throughout the US, a blonde singer, who I will not name, was drawn to me, and I to her. We took our time in falling into bed with each-other, or what felt to us like a long time. Weeks went by, we would talk of intimate and seldom-discussed things - first-time sex, out-of-body-experiences, things that had embarrassed us growing up. Eventually we started necking. We kept our involvement a secret, though there was much speculation among the band and crew. We had no reason to be secretive, we were cheating on no one, but we were jealously guarding our intimacy from the interpretations and advice of our friends.
But none of you care about this - you want to know the sex and the kink. I get eMail asking me to write of only this.
So I will tell you -- what got my lover off, was for me to whisper stories, improvised, into her ear while I slowly made love to her. I learned, gradually, and to my delight, that the more outlandish and dangerous the events of the story, the more her normally relaxed and graceful form would contort and stiffen, the explosive would be her cumming. Any of you only interested in the kink, skip down 'til you see this mark: @*#*@*#*@*#*@*#*@
Now, I'm going to give you a couple of more details you will probably find boring, but I want to include them for my own sense of truth. First: this girl (and at 19, much younger than me) was the kind many men want. I could see this in the stuttering way most males treated her. Her true stories of her own life were filled with men who persue her - teachers in high school, well-heeled, town-hero jocks, friends of her parents. That being said, for some strange reason I didn't find her appearance powerfully attractive. I had been much more attracted to an out-going, lithe dancer with none-to-perfect skin that no one else on the tour seemed to notice. Anyway, I'm old enough not to be attracted by the outside, but by the pith of the person, and as I got to know my little dancer, I found her to be filled with bullshit - kind of a neoConservative spiritualist, and I had no stomach for 'nailing' her, which is how she seemed to view sex. [strangely, I did end up doing some strange form of mutual naked massage that neither of us acknowledged had a sexual base - and in a rare moment of enlightenment, I can say I'm glad I didn't fuck her]. As I got to know this un-named singer, I could sense a feral, fearless sex in her, a pubic self-confidence that turned me on, and made me feel secure that she could take care of herself, that niether of us were going to screw up the other. That's important for road people, or you get hurt. Nuff said. The other unusual fact I'd like to mention is this: one of her breasts was significantly larger than the other. One breast was middling-large, the other a small breast. Both well shaped, just different 'presences'. Relationships are places where we give things without giving them up, and I think the best thing I gave her was to talk to her about her breasts, show her that it had no adverse effect on my appreciation of her, or on my lust for her.
@*#*@*#*@*#*@*#*@ I didn't just jump in and tell her my violent dreams, I built there slowly. And with each story I improvised for her I was learning how to alter my own scenarios to please both of us. As a writer, there is no better feedback than this: I would whisper a new piece of the story in her ear, and feel it's effect, literally. I would feel her slick cunt contract on my solidness up inside her. I would feel her hips rotate to pull my cock farther into her when some detail took her by suprise and stoked her fires. I would whisper of a stranger who would drive into the gas station where she was working alone, late at night, out in the desert. He would make learing, sexist comments while she was changing the oil in his engine, and she would suddenly be self-concious, I would tell her, of how skimpy her top was under her overalls. I'd whisper this in a low, gravelly voice directly in her ear, and feel her moistness increase under my fingers. I'd tell her how this stranger comes up behind her and puts his hands on her hips, and says, 'don't move,' and she can hear in the tone of his voice he is a killer. His hands slip into her overalls and roughly travel to her wetness [and she pulls me on top of her] and his hands travel up to her neck [she groans, and starts to masturbate with the head of my straining cock] He easily holds her throat tightly in one hand [and I hold hers, but gently] with the other he unsnaps her overalls and pulls them down. He's pushing her head down on the hood of his car and fumbling with his fly [and she is drinking me in with her plush young cunt] and for her benefit I draw out his sexual assault - and tonight a try a new twist, one I've been sensing that she hoped I would guess, one that she would be too shy, even with me, to admit she wanted - as I feel her orgasm coming, as she makes those sounds at the back her throat that I've come to expect, at this moment I have her strange assailant roughly grab her chin and the back of her head, and TWIST, and BREAK her NECK, and he's killing her and she's coming, I can feel that rippling, and I'm coming in her, in my condom prison in her hot center.
That this really turns her on is about the only thing we don't discuss. Not because we're afraid to, I hope, but to keep it from being discussed when we are not in passion.
A night or two later, she is the executioner of the strange man. He's sentenced to hang for her murder. I tell her how she strips him naked [and she takes off her own clothes, and mine] in front of the jeering mob. She gets very hot as I describe the gallows itself, the new, blond wood, built just for this death that she [really I] will create. She ties him up. As I describe the way she binds his ankles, she wraps a stocking around mine. So I describe her taking the condemned man's cock in her mouth, and my strategy works - she takes my shaft between her lips. With her thumb and forefinger she makes a noose around the head of my cock and whispers, 'this is how I'll hang you!' and she climbs up my body [I'm on my back] On two levels I'm having trouble extending this story - she's riding me viscously and I desperately want to cum, and she's got him [me] on the trap door, ready to spring - but she's not ready to cum. I start to describe the crowd, licking their lips, waiting for her to crack his neck. For a while, concentrating on the details of the story keep my balls from tightening, but then she's licking my ear, and I can't stop, I jet into her, as she tells me the trap door has sprung. I think she doesn't want to cum toninght, but as I float between this world and the next, I feel her grinding on me. So I change the direction of the story, and throw a rough noose around her neck - two strong men have come out of nowhere and as her rapist struggles against his bonds, twisting on the end of the rope, they center her struggling young body on the trap door next to his. they TEAR her clothing off, and tie HER hands and feet [she's turning flush now] and adjusting the knot behind her left ear. They throw a bag over her head [I cover her eyes] and she can hear the lever turn and WHJAM!! the trap door opens, she is falling weightless [my hands are around her throat] and CRACK! And she is cumming again, she is cumming - and she's got me hard again, and we fuck - we stand up and fuck with her against the wall, and me in her from behind - and I'm hissing in her ear, but I'm hissing what I'm actually doing to her - and I pull out of her cunt and push against her ass, and my slick wet condom breaches her virgin ass and she says no and I start to retreat and she says, it's okay, she says, go ahead, and I work my large and solid dick up her ass and she is fingering herself, and she says, I'm cumming, I'm dying! and my knees go too weak to stand and we drip to the floor as I cum in the tight tight freely given ass of the woman who luvs me to speak her metered death in her ear.
more to come...
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