Date: Thu, 30 Jul 1998 15:14:24 PDT
From: Rose Brooks <rose38@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lesbian Nurse

Lesbian Nurse

Chapter 1

I moved to Guildford two years ago; John was transferred and I had to leave
my job as a secretary for Colson's, a wine importer back in Warminster.  I
had no real qualifications, but we needed the money from both of us working
- and I was getting bored fixing up the new house and window-shopping in
the town centre.  Eventually John bought up my old nursing qualification -
It'd already occurred to me, but I wasn't sure that it was what I wanted
now.  I'd drifted into the classes at 16, with nothing else to do, and
passed the qualifiying exams, then after half-heartedly applying for a
couple of local posts thrown it all up and worked for Colson's for four
stagnant years.

John thought it was a great idea.  "Give them a call tomorrow, love", he
said, nestled under my arm as we lay in bed that night.  His hands were
wandering about in their familiar and welcome pre-sex rounds; I lay back,
relaxed as he gently turned me on, stroking the outline of my thighs, the
curve of my bottom, my stomach.  I saw him looking at my nipples under my T
shirt - he knows how sensitive they are, what they do to me - and I felt
the melting begin in my tummy as he pulled the T shirt up to my shoulders
and sucked the nearest erect nipple between his warm lips, tweaking the
other between the outside of his index and middle fingers.  I lay there
passively, as his suction drove pleasure throughout my body, radiating from
my nipples, my breath deepening.  He lay on his side at my side, now, and I
could feel the heat of his cock throbbing against the cool, smooth skin of
my thigh.  It felt bigger than its seven inches (I've measured it for
him!), hot and blunt; I couldn't stop my bottom shifting in the bed of its
own accord to turn and press my thighs against it, my breasts against his
lightly-haried chest.  Now I felt my usual urgent need to be taken by him,
to be overwhelmed; my open mouth found his and our tongues talked and
chattered.  His large hands ranged down over my bottom, first pressing it
down to push my delta gainst his stiff tool, then to part the globes with
his palms while running his forefinger lightly over my anus, then down,
gently, to make small, gentle circles at the now sticky bottom of my vagina
while his other hand tweaked a nipple sharply.

He shifted, pushing me on my back and rising - I opened my legs to him,
held out my arms for him as he positioned himself above me - in the
half-light I could see the outlines of his cock as it rose past his navel.
I would have it - in me - now!  At the thought I felt an unbearable sticky
itch within me that only his cock could scratch, I murmured, "Fuck your
cock in me, Fuck me!"  With one hand he forced it down, pushed the plump
head up and down in my slick entrance, pressed on the hood over my
clitoris, then, as if tiring of teasing me, he manouvered his stiff,
vein-ribbed dong, it was stiff, stiff, to the inner channel, then quickly,
smoothly, pushed it all, all of the stiff, in my hot, oily tunnel.

Breath whooshed from me as he entered; the feel of the full length of
John's cock stretching me comfortably and juicily made me woozy with
pleasure: before I recovered I felt the brief intimate slap of his balls
against my smooth bottom-cheeks and his hand pulling at my left nipple
again.  The sensations overwhelmed me, rode me up my pleasure, too many to
keep track of.  I could feel all his veins in his cock as it pressed in,
the pleasure-pain in my soft breasts, his weight forcing me, taking me, the
butterball heat-itch in my middle being scratched with his slick, blunt
fuck-tool.  I gasped out, my hair dischevelled, my hands at his chest, my
legs wrapped around his bottom, looking in his eyes as he pounded me now, a
thin sweat on his muscular body - bigger than me, taking me - his thickness
stove in and out, moving my pleasure on, closer to blotting me.

"Cocksucker!" John said to me distractedly, his breath ragged,
"Fuck-Bitch".  I could see he was approaching his orgasm, and I needed mine
- I pushed against him with my thighs, now, and his enraged cock thrust in
a little deeper, he slapped against me, and again - my pleasure neared its
peak as his thrusts became deeper, longer, His frantic fingers pinched my
nipple hard and pulled up on it with a sharp pain - I surrendered to the
body-filling waves of ecstacy.  "Cunt, Cunt!", his breath gasped from him
now, and finally he pressed into me with all his body, and even in my daze
of sensations I felt his spunk jet out from his iron cock, into me, filling
me, his cock still filling my channel, so full!  I held him to me,
savouring the completeness, my vacant cunt filled.

Finally he shrunk, panting, and his heated body cleaved off from our
mingled sweat and clumped down beside me.  Tendrils of pleasure sang me to
sleep.



Chapter 2

Guildford General did have a vacancy for a qualified Staff Nurse, in fact
for two of them.  An interview was arranged for the following friday with
the ward sister, Angela Leighton, just after lunch.  The receptionist told
me they'd had dozens of enquiries from an advert in a local paper, so my
hopes were pretty grim.

I wasted half an hour trying on various outfits - I settled on a
medium-length wollen skirt with a businesslike creme silk chemise, without
the bra - I didn't want them to think I was some old fogey, or whatever.

When I turned up - a little early - I was shown into her little office, and
took a seat nervously.  Angela wasn't there yet, so I sat quietly with my
hands in my lap and tried to think of something else.  Muted chatter and
the clink and rumble of trolleys outside the open door lulled me, and I
relaxed a little.  After a few minutes a nurse in her early thirties with
her blond hair tied severely back stepped through the door with a sheaf of
folders.  "Are you Wendy Stanton?"  I nodded and rose, "Hello, " she said,
with a smile, "I'm Angela Leighton - Anglea, alright?"  I smiled back.  She
sat down and leafed through a pile of folders already on her desk.  "Right
- If I can just get this form...OK. "  She pulled a pen from her breast
pocket.  "OK.  Wendy...Stanton... - what's your address, Wendy?"  I told
her and she copied it down.  "Right - Erm, Female, no, no, yes,
erm... twenty-fifth.".  She went on with questions about my qualifications
and school history.  We covered previous employers, then she rose and shut
the door, and sat down again.  "OK, Wendy, that's, erm, so far, so good.
Now I have to ask you some personal questions, do you mind?"  I said
whatever was necessary was fine by me.

"OK."  She ferreted out a clean sheet of paper and put the form to one
side.  "When was your first sexual experience?"  Well, this took me by
surprise a little.  " Do you mean masturbation, or real intercourse?"  I
asked.  "Well, masturbation counts, I guess," she said, with a gleam in her
eyes.  "When I was fourteen, then," I said.  She made notes on the paper.
"Was that when you were alone, or .. mutual masturbation?"  At this a brief
flash of memory of Claire flashed by, dislodging more feelings with it than
it ought to.

"Actually, it was with my best friend at the time.", I said in a sort of
impulsive confidence.

"A Girl, then?"

"Yes, " I said, reddening and wishing I hadn't been so honest.  Anglea gave
no signs and made more notes.

"What is your sexual preference at the present time?", Angela looked me
straight in the eyes across the desk as she asked.  "I can't believe this
is relevant, " I began.

"I know it seems that way, " said Anglea in a warm tone, "but trust me,
Wendy, it's very relevant to this job.  But if you don't want to say..."
she let it hang.  "Heterosexual.", I said.  "Exclusively Heterosexual."  I
added.  Angela nodded sagely and gave me an appraising look that covered
most of my body.  I looked down in confusion to see my nipples erect
through the silk chemise.  I blushed and looked in the corner.  Angela
coughed and the questions turned to my history of diseases and allergies.

Finally, she finished and we both rose.  She gave me a warm smile.  "I
think you've done very well, Wendy; we'll be in touch."  I felt her eyes on
my body as I left.  Were those questions for real, or was she some kind of
lesbian?


Chapter 3

The 'phone rang on Tuesday morning - it was Angela herself.  "Hello Wendy!
I'm very pleased to say that we've selected you for one of the positions!"

"That's great," I said, pleased.  "When do I start?"

"Sooner the better, I think, " said Anglea.  "Why don't you come to my
house this evening and I'll take you through an idea of your duties?"

She gave me directions and her number in case I got lost, and I said I'd be
there for nine.  I had a long bath that afternoon, and in the middle of it
remembered that John was working late tonight.  I wrapped a towel around me
and called Angela at the Hospital to ask if she'd mind picking me up,
although John'd probably be back by the time we'd finished and could drive
me back.  She was only the other side of town, anyhow.  "No problem, Wendy,
No problem", she replied, "See you at nine.  I'm really looking forward to
it.".

Jeez, what did that mean?  I was beginning to wonder if Angela was a
Lesbian, and she fancied me.  All those questions!  What did I feel about
that?  It reminded me of Claire; but that was a long time ago, now.
Somehow in my mind's eye my image of Claire seemed to be wearing starch,
white linen, now.  I gave a little shiver and finished my bath.

I spent the next couple of hours lounging around, getting dinner and
watching TV, surprising myself a little with my growing restlessness.  I
settled on jeans and a T-shirt, and after some indecision, decided on a
bra.  As nine O'Clock approached, I grew steadily more nervous, and had a
glass of wine from out of the fridge to calm myself down.

The doorbell rang at five to nine - Angela stood there in her uniform.
"You're Ready?" she asked, with her warm smile.  I told her I was, shut the
door and we both walked to her car.

"I hope it's not too late for you, tonight - it's just it's the end of my
shift at 8:30" she said, once we were underway.  I told her it was fine,
and that anyway, I needed the job badly.  We made small talk, and
eventually we pulled up at her block of flats.  She parked the car, and we
got out into an awkward silence.  She led the way to her flat, unlocked the
door.  It was a cosy flat, with rugs on the floor and hung on the walls,
ornaments and nick-nacks everywhere.  "Make yourself at home," said Angela,
and went off to make some tea.  I made for the sofa and looked around while
Anglea made tea-making noises in the kitchen.  She had some photographs
framed sitting on a dresser - there was a couple of a little boy, as a
young baby, then at two or so, then one of Angela with a younger
black-haired girl, standing in front of a tree sheilding their eyes from
the sun, and - my eyes must have bugged out - one of Angela and the black
haired girl kissing.  I looked away, just in time to collect my tea from
Angela - she must have seen me looking, but said nothing.

"OK, " said Angela, and she began to take me through the shift times, and a
quick idea of who I would be working with.  I was half listening to her.
Running through my mind like a stuck record was "Angela licks cunts".  I
stared at her lips as she spoke, unable to not imagine them pushed against
a moist cunt, her nose buried in the pubes.  "Are you free tomorrow
afternoon?  I'll show you around the ward, and introduce you."  I said I
was.

"Angela," I said, hesitantly.  She gave me her full attention with her
green eyes.  "Can I ask you a question?"

She said nothing in a way that was an assent.  "Are you... erm, do you
prefer... other women?"  I croaked out, redenning.

"You mean, 'Am I a Lesbian'?  What made you ask that," she said in an even
tone, giving nothing away.

"Well, the questions you asked at the interview, and, the... picture over
there...", I indicated, and ground into an embarassed silence.  "I'm sorry,
" I began, "I shouldn't..."

"Yes, " she said, cutting me short.  "I am a Lesbian.  Women turn me on, I
love women.  I don't hate men, just prefer women.  By a good margin."  She
looked me steadily in the eyes, I guess I gaped back at her.  There was a
silence built of cast iron.



Chapter 4

"I'm not going to jump on you," she said finally, with her calm smile; I
laughed nervously.  "Look, do you want to go? " she asked, in a way
indicating she would understand, wouldn't be offended.  "No, No," I
insisted, "I just wanted to know."  The silence grew out again, my hand
fidgeted in my lap.

"Wow, you look stressed out!" she exclaimed with a laugh.  I smiled
nervously up at her.  "Since you're staying, would you like something a bit
stronger than tea to calm you down?  Bacardi, Martini...?"  I was aware we
were heading into dangerous territory here, but an ambivilence urged me on.
"Yes, please!"  I said.  She smiled at me and made me a Martini and
lemonade - I accepted it and gulped half of it down.  "Who is your friend
in the photgraph?"  I asked.

"That's Melanie - I guess you'd have to call her my 'Lover'.  We've being
going steady for three years, now.  We don't live together, though."

"Oh."  I said.  Angela eased herself beside me, at the oppsite end of the
three-seat sofa.  She had been sitting in the Armchair across from me.
"Can I ask _you_ a question, now you've satisfied your curiosity," she
said, looking mischevious.  I said OK, and took another gulp of Martini.

"How did you and your friend get together that time when you were
fourteen?"  She certainly hadn't forgotten anything about our interview!
She must fancy me, that's why she invited me over here, she wants to.. she
wants to fuck me, I thought, and my eyes glanced over her breasts.  She
noticed my attention, and now her eyes were bright.

"Her name was Claire - she was a year older than me, much more confident
than I was.  She - she made me do things."  She had mastered me; I had been
her slave.  She had teased me with her too-perfect blonde body until I
begged to lick her perfect little sixteen-year-old cunt for her, tears in
my eyes.  She never cared for me, and finished with me in two weeks, before
moving on to greater victories; I was like some kind of warm up for her.
The last I heard of her, she was high up in a famous woman's magazine in
London.

"She made you just masturbate her?  Did she make you do anything else?"
Angela had edged closer on the sofa.  I felt a familiar warmth between my
legs; I shivered.  I couldn't look Angela in the eyes, somehow, "She made
me, you know, do cunnilingus on her," I stammered out.  I glanced in her
eyes, she was beside me now.  She looked magnificent, strong and confident,
with me the object of her attention, her prey; it was almost too much to
smell her warm perfume.  Her breasts jutted up at me, crowded me.  My
nipples ached against my bra cup, my insides began to melt.  "Did
you... enjoy it?  Enjoy what she made you do?  Did you like being made to
lick her cunt?"  I stammered out some nonsense as I felt her cool hand cup
the back of my neck.  "You like to be made to do things, don't you?"  I
glanced about like a frightened rabbit, but her gaze transfixed me, and I
stared my lostness into her green eyes as she leant closer and brushed my
parted lips with hers.  "Poor Darling," she breathed, and stroked my hair.
"You want to lick my cunt, don't you?  Do I make you wet?  Hmm?"  I
couldn't have replied even if I knew what to say.  I felt so turned on by
her attentions, by not knowing what she would do to me, by her being in
control, I was half out of my mind with desire.

Her hand at the back of my neck gathered my hair and pulled down on it hard
enough to make me turn my face up.  "Put your tongue out," she commanded,
keeping up the tension on my hair.  I gazed at her, and peeped the tip out;
it felt so secret between us, we both imagined it buried in her cunt.  She
laughed, and bent to kiss it, sucking hard on it.  "Lick my cunt, Hmm?
Lick it?"  her warm breath spoke into my mouth, as I gasped back into hers.
She released my hair, her hands were on my breasts now; she jerked the T
shirt out of my jeans, reached inside and unhooked my bra.  My full breasts
spilt forward, to her hands, at first with my nipples burning into her
palms, then intense sensations swept me as she twisted my nipples roughly
between her thumb and forefingers.

Abruptly she let me go, and held out her hands to help me up from the sofa.
I was in a state, my bra half-on, and half off, my T shirt rumpled.  She
led me by the hand into her bedroom, and sat me on her double bed.  The
sheets were cool under me.  "I... I..." I stuttered, but Angela was
unzipping her nurse's uniform.  She unhooked her bra, kicked off her shoes
and her small breasts bobbed free.  She quickly slid her skirt down, then
her panties, revealing her carefully tended mound.  It was cut very short,
and shaved at the sides.  She was evidently a natural blonde.

She stood in front of me, her hands in my hair again, pushing my face into
her warm pubes.  "Lick my cunt, Wendy, put your tongue in.  I'm wet for
you.  Lick me!"  She parted her thighs, and ground my willing face into her
moist slit.  The dark, heady perfume of her juices filled my lungs,
intoxicated me.  She hunched forward, and I craned my head forward, then
squeezed my tongue between her cuntlips, tasting her heat and moisture.
How sweet her moisture was!  With one hand she pressed my face into her
mound, the other was busy at her nipples, pulling them out and letting them
snap back painfully.  "Oh, you tongue me, you slut," she hissed, "you
tongue-fuck my cunt."  She rocked her thighs into my face.  My tongue
pressed into her moist creases, tasting her sweet fresh juices.

Suddenly she pulled back, and tugged at my T shirt, pulling it up and over
my head.  I held out my arms meekly, staring at her breasts with their
stiff nipple-turrets, and she pulled it off, my breasts jiggling, my
nipples taut.  As she leaned over me to undo my jeans, I craned up and
caught a nipple between my lips briefly, then lay back as she took off my
jeans and jerked my panties down.  She pushed me roughly over on my tummy,
grabbed my hair with one hand, and pulled it tight enough to hurt a little.
"Slut! " she said loudly, and her open hand came down hard on my bottom
with a loud smack.  It stung and I cried out, muffled by the bedcovers.
"You want to tongue me, Slut!  Say it!"  She smacked me again, harder.
"Say it to me!"  The burning in my bottom joined with the warmth in my
tingling slit.

"I..."  She pulled back harder on my hair, bringing my head off the
bedcovers, smacked me again.  Tendrils of pleasure-pain felt around by
body.  "I want to tongue your cunt," I whispered.  And I did.  I adored her
strength, the way she dominated me.  I wanted to worship between her legs.
I felt her thumb force its way between my exposed bottom-cheeks, and press
in and out against my anus.  I was hot, hot.  I wanted to be taken.

She roughly turned me over again, on my back, and straddled herself on top
of me.  She moved up until her breasts we above my face.  "Suck my titties,
Slave-Slut," she commanded from above me.  I reached up and caressed them,
then craned up and captured each nipple in turn, sucking the nipples hard,
how I like it.  "Ooooh, feels good!" Angela gasped.  After a moment one of
her hands reached down to roll and tweak my left nipple painfully hard.  I
raised a knee and ground it into her behind, above me.  It felt hot and
sticky.  We continued this way for minute, then she raised herself, and
bought her sweet cunt over my face.  We stared into each other's eyes with
lust and love.  "Tongue me, Slut?" she teased, her perfect blonde quim
inches above my hungry lips.  "Yes, yes," I husked.  Finally, she pressed
her open thighs down on my mouth.  Her hot, sticky moistness enveloped me,
and I was glad.  I opened my mouth so my top lip worked on her clitoris as
I moved my head, while my tongue pressed into her as far as it could go.

She rocked on her kees above me, her hands reaching back to squeeze my
breasts and brush my nipples.  My own cunt ached for her, now.  After a
time her movements became spasmodic on me, and she deserted my breasts.  I
looked up to see her hands clamped on her own, her eyes closed, mouth
parted.  My tongue tasted sweeter juices deep inside her.  She was close.
I nibbled on her clitoris, my hands wanton on her bottom-cheeks, moulding
them, pressing her into my face.  I wormed a finger between them, as she
had done to me, and pressed at her anus.  She gasped, above me, and her
thighs jerked frantcally on my face.  I moved to remove my finger, but a
quick hand darted down and pushed it back into place.  Her anus relaxed
rythmically on my finger, but I kept up a gentle probing pressure with my
fingertip.

After a few moments, she collapsed on top of me, panting.  Her nipples
burnt into my breasts, and mine into hers.  Her mouth sought mine, and our
tongues entwined.  I knew she could taste her own juices from me.  Her leg
slipped between mine and at last her thigh squashed my pulpy slit, to my
pleasure.  Her caressing hand trailed down my body, reached between my
thighs.  She ran her forefinger smoothly up and down my oily channel,
slipping over my raised clitoris and lightly into my vagina.  "Oooh, like
that, Slut?" she breathed.  I ached to feel her within me.  "Fuck me, make
me come!" I gasped.  Her smooth finger slicked up and down.  She leaned
down and covered my mouth with hers.  My thighs parted wider and I
quivered.  Her hand twisted - now her thumb stroked horizontally across my
clitoris, and her slick, oily finger wormed confidently into my bottom.  I
bucked as she pressed her fingetip into my anus, but her weight held me
down, and her tongue licked mine soothingly.  Her experienced finger
slipped in, lubricated by my juices - it's itchy-burning in me connected
with her thumb toying with my clitoris and I caught fire in my bottom and
in my cunt.  My hips jerked, my breath rushed in and out - her finger slid
in my anus all the way to its knuckle.  My back arched, and I came, came in
my cunt and in my bottom, like never before - my whole body was alight, my
tensed muscles sang.

Sensing I was coming, Angela slid down my body, and replaced her thumb with
her tongue.  She splurged her hot tongue into my wet slit, and shifted her
head up and down so the whole surface of her broad, muscular tongue pressed
up and down the inside of my cunt-lips.  Her finger in my bottom vibrated,
tickling deep in my anal canal.  I came again, and again.

Eventually she slipped her finger out of my bottom, and moved up the bed to
me.  As I lay there panting, she embraced me, kissed me tenderly and
stroked my hair.  We lay there, our legs entangled, each feeling the
other's smooth thigh against their soaked cunt.  I felt that she owned me,
and I was proud.

Chapter 5

By the time I got back home that evening John was fast asleep in bed.  I
had cuddled up with Angela for a while after our experience, and she had
reassured me about what we had done.  I was tired, but my mind was in a
turmoil.  I sneaked into bed and dozed off, my mind blurred.

I woke to feel a stiff cock pressed up between my bottom cheeks, it's hot
head butting against my spine.  In my dreamy half-asleep state, last night
merged with now and I thought it was somehow Angela's prick, by some
miracle.  John's familiar hairy legs put me right; I said nothing.  I lay
on my side, with my legs drawn up slightly, John behind me.  I ground my
bottom against him, feeling the dimensions of his cock as I moved against
it, caught in my bottom-groove.  I felt an itch in my bottom from last
night with Angela.  I reached out, swivelling on my bum so it pressed
harder against him, and took the bottle of hand cream from the bedside
table.  John's big hands caressed my breasts as I relaxed back on the bed.
I splurted a gob of handcream out on to my hand, and reached around to take
hold of his cock.  Still with my back to him, I spread the hand-cream over
his dick and ran my hand tightly up and down it, giving him a smooth, slow
hand-job.  His breathing became ragged as I worked.  Afetr a few moments I
said, "Give me your hand."  He held out his hand, and I pressed the
handcream out on it.  "Put your finger in my bottom," I said.  He
hesitated, but I resumed my slow up-and-down motion on his stiff cock and
his hand reached down between my cheeks.

First he ran the side of his hand up and down between by bottom-cheeks,
spreading the hand cream in the groove, teasing my cunt at the end of every
stroke.  When it was all slick, his forefinger pressed against my anus, at
first softtly, then harder.  He wiggled his finger, and entered about
half-an-inch.  I shifted my bottom towards his hand, and continued to jerk
him off slowly.  He took the hint and pressed in more.  Once he was
partially in, his whole finger slipped up there.  I had to let go of his
cock - my other hand was busy flicking and pressing at my clitoris, and I
needed to squeeze my nipples real bad.  "I need your cock." I said to him.
"In there?" he asked, wiggling his finger in my bottom.  "I want to be
buggered" - the word spilled out, how dirty it sounded! - buggered in my
arsehole by his thick stiffpole.  I let out a small noise, my nipples
tingled.  I wanted taking, the taking of me.  He gently slipped his finger
out, and reached over for more hand cream.  He pushed at my thigh to
indicate I should take the doggy position, but it was not right; instead I
turned on my back and stuffed a pillow under my back.  I raised my legs in
the air and gathered them in an arm.  My cunt and bottom-hole were
presented to him.  "No - like this -" I said " - I want to see."

He knelt in front of me, and presented his purple-headed tool against my
tiny button-hole.  He squeezed hand cream on it.  "Stop me if I hurt you, "
he said, looking at me.  I stared up at him, a magnificent sight, with that
thick pole about to bugger me.  "Put it in me!" I groaned.  Heat and itchy
burning in my bottom was driving me wild.  He pushed the blunt weapon at my
anus, it felt good, huge, about to enter, but it wouldn't go in.  He
reached down and wiped the thick head up and down, up and down in my wet
cunt - oh, so nice, but I needed it - I needed - in my little hole,
tickling there - Angela had...

He slipped his dick down between my cunt lips until he was at my anus
again, and pressed once more.  I concentrated on what Angela has done last
night, in my mind, and wiggled my bottom slightly as he pushed, and it
began to enter.  He eased it slowly in, until an inch or so was inside.  I
was stretched; it hurt a little.  He paused.  I used my muscles down there
to squeeze his hard thing.  "I want all your cock in me," I said.  Our eyes
locked.  I rested my upright legs against his shoulders and gripped his
arms with my hands.  I stared into his eyes.  "Bugger me, John, all of your
cock, oh you, big, big..."  As I gazed up at him, clutching his arms, he
pressed forward slowly but surely, until half his cock disappeared within
my bottom.  I moaned out, impaled.  One of my hands left his arm and
fingered my cunt urgently - I was coming, coming on his stiff fuck.  "Fuck
me!" I husked.  The walls of my rectum must have been giving his cock a
powerful massage - I could feel his shifting length in me, taking me.  He
drew it back, pressed it forward, further this time, I felt.  Again and
again he drew it out and pressed it in.  A pulsing pleasure started in my
rectum in time with his thrusts.  It grew - grew - I gripped his arm, it
must have hurt him.  Its fire suddenly spread over my whole bottom and
tummy - I came like never before, his cock in my bottom thrusting.  My
jerkings and inner spasms were too much for him, his stroke grew slower and
stiffer, through my pleasure I saw his face wild, sweat on his brow, as he
thrust his cock in all the way.  He was muttering, but I heard him, woozy
though I was with pleasure, "Take that cock - cock up your ass, boy, ass
suck my cock" His cock slammed in, his thighs hard against mine, soft; this
his last, a pause with a hoarse sniffle and I could feel it pulse
powerfully as he spurted, and the hot, wet slap of his come coating my
insides.  His tense body crouched panting over me as he came, his body
covering me.  His hands reached to my shoulders and his weight pressed down
on me, holding me trapped to him, an insolence of power to keep me for his
come, to make me, but I wanted to.  As I looked up at his body, my fingers
worked at my clitoris and pressed painfully at my nipples, tweaking them
hard until they slipped out from thumb and forefinger on the slippery
hand-cream - I took more pleasure from him.

Finally I was finished; the pleasure drained, his softening tool was
uncomfortable in my stretched anal canal.  I eased forward, away from him,
and felt it slip back, and finally flop out with a warm wet drip of his
come on my thigh.  His big hands reached around and cupped my breasts.  His
juice leaked slowly from my still-stretched bottom, wetting my back.  I
felt detached, completed, pleased but silent.  I had not forgotten the
unguessed-at perversity of what he had said.