Date: Wed, 5 Nov 2003 23:40:18 -0500
From: Christy Hemenway <scry42@cox.net>
Subject: 742 Binghamton Avenue

We are invited to a party.  The invitation gives only the date, the time,
and the address.  And this one knowing, if ominous, admonition - to come
prepared for your deepest desire.

The date arrives.  It begins to rain early in the evening.  We get there
well before the appointed hour.  The address turns out to be a high-rise
luxury condominium building in one of the very nicest neighborhoods in the
city.  Nervous, we drive 'round the block to eat up the extra time.  You
are chafing at the bit, wanting desperately to go in, eager, unsure of
yourself, ready to bolt at the same time...  My stomach churns, and my
fingers drum on the steering wheel.

I try to calm you, but you will not be soothed.  Finally, we can wait no
longer.  I hastily jam the car into a tiny space in the underground parking
garage.  After one last date with my hairbrush, we make our way to the
elevator, and ride it to the 7th floor.  The doors open onto an opulent
white tile foyer - lush green plants in each corner, tall windows on both
sides looking down over the city.  You stop to gaze at your Arian
reflection in the glass.  The raindrops on the glass sparkle like diamonds
in the night.  You look hot, and you know it.  It still fascinates me to
watch you enjoying the swish of a full skirt, to see you kick your hips and
turn to see it flow out away from you.  You spin once, and grin at me, and
then your nervousness returns.  We wonder which way we need to go, at the
elevator we spot a sign indicating that the even numbers go to the right.
We follow its arrow down the deep green carpeted hallway.

Our destination turns out to be at the very end of the hallway - you can
tell that the place must be huge, it spans the entire width of that wing of
the building.  My heart is pounding, I cannot even begin to fathom what you
must be feeling.  My senses are hyper-aware... the swish of the skirt, and
the sweet line of your ass beneath it are amplified beyond all reason.  I
rest my hand on your buttocks as we approach the end of the hall.  I can
feel the muscles working as you struggle to stay upright on spike heels
that sink deeply into the plush carpet with each step.

At last we stand at the door.  I tuck my hand into the crook of your arm.
You look at me, then away, and lift your hand to ring the bell.  The
waiting seems forever.  But soon enough the door is opened.  A tall,
muscular blonde gentleman in beautifully tailored clothing smiles and
beckons us in.  As he moves back to allow us entrance, two dark-skinned men
appear as if from nowhere.  One steps to your right, the other insinuates
himself between us, gently but firmly taking my fingers from your arm.
Resting one hand lightly on your bare shoulder, he and the other man take
you from me, guiding you down a hallway.

The door closes behind me with a terribly final sound.  I turn to see the
blonde man watching me attentively.  I am panicked.  Where have they taken
you?  Why?  What am I to do?  Surely this was a bad idea - you are not
going to be taking this well, why did we come?  He smiles at me and takes
my hand, leading me into the room to the left across the hallway.  Seated
'round the room on leather couches in all colors are more well-dressed
people, mostly women.  They seem very alert, and glance up when I enter,
many of them are sipping tea from elegant bone china cups.  Some of them
are chatting quietly.  All of them are delightful to look at.  The blonde
guides me to a purple leather couch, we sit together.  A tall woman in a
flowing white dress arrives with tea for us.  I have some, looking about at
the people and the gorgeous furnishings, feeling very shy.

Finally the blonde man rests his hand on my knee.  I look at him.  He asks
if I am okay.  I say "Where have you taken my ..."  "Sssshhhhh," he says.
"He is fine.  He is being prepared for an erotic experience.  You will be
there with him.  You needn't worry."  This information does not truly
satisfy, but it seems so rude to insist in this beautiful, elegantly hushed
environment that I fall quiet, drinking the rest of my cup of tea.

As I watch, pairs of people rise and leave the room together at random
intervals.  The blonde man suddenly stands and reaches his hand to me.  I
take it and rise.  He tucks my hand into his elbow, pulling his arm tightly
against his side, trapping my fingers.  I suddenly find him incredibly
arousing.  We leave the room and follow the hallway where last I saw you.
It is difficult to walk, my senses are swimming .  We traverse the hallway,
passing several doors, till we come to a green door, on the right.  At this
one we stop.  He rests his free hand on the doorknob and looks curiously at
me, as if to ask if I am ready.  I have no idea what to expect, yet I
smile, and nod slightly.  He opens the door, and we enter together.

He tightens his grip on me as I gasp, taking in the contents of the room.
Candlelight reflects in several mirrors, and in the dark of the windows.
He pulls me to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms 'round my belly.  I
look at you, bent beautifully over the end of a high antique bed, one side
of your skirt lifted and tucked beneath your hip, revealing one long thigh
to the knee, that knee resting on the top step of the small cherry wood
step stool meant for climbing into this lovely bed.  Soft silver cords
'round your wrists disappear over the edge of the bed, rendering you unable
to rise, barely able even to lift your head.  You look back at me, your
face unreadable.  I know that beneath the skirt, between you and the bed,
you must be fully, incredibly erect, and rigid like an oak.  I want to
stroke you, hold you.  I want to hear your breathing quicken, hear the moan
rise from your throat.  I know you wanted this, I know this is why we are
here, but you look so fragile, so lovely, and so vulnerable, that I want to
protect you from these people, these dark-skinned, muscular men who have
taken you from me, now standing casually about the room drinking in the
same view as I.  He is mine, I think - they cannot have this, I cannot
share him with them.  It is too precious, too fragile, surely this can not
be asked of me, of us.

The blonde man, one handed, finds the clasp on my skirt, and undoes it.  It
falls gently to the floor around my ankles.  His hand tickles lightly
across my belly, his fingers reach inside my panties.  They find their
mark.  Yes, I am wet.  Very wet.  He grins at me, and kisses my jaw, the
side of my neck, my shoulder.  He strokes my clitoris with his fingers and
I cannot help but moan from both the pleasure and the delicious tension.
You watch us from the bed.  A few moments and I am collapsed against him,
coming that first time from so little touching that we are all astonished.

One of the dark-skinned men comes toward me now.  Dangling from his hand
are the fine leather straps of a harness.  They surround a beautifully
realistic dildo.  The blonde holds me away from himself now, and helps the
darker man remove my panties, and then arrange and adjust the straps.  I
feel the base of my new penis pressing against my mound - I reach down and
stroke it, feeling as if it were my very own cock, running my hand up and
down the length of its shaft.

The other dark-skinned man detaches himself from the arm of the sofa, from
where he has been watching, and comes to take my hand.  He guides me to
you, splayed on the bed.  We come up behind you, and together we lift the
rest of your skirt from out of the way.  I caress your sweet round cheeks.
I have always loved your beautiful ass, and its lovely curves.  My cock
bumps against your thigh.  You squirm a bit, and I realize that yes, you
are actually trembling.  This fills me with a rush I can scarce contain.  I
run my hands lightly from your ass cheeks down your thighs, to the backs of
your knees, and feel you quiver beneath my touch.  My cunt surges and
throbs.  I know inside that the size of this cock will please you.  The
thought warms me.  The dark-skinned man steps behind me, putting his hands
on my hips, rubbing his tumescence against me.

Suddenly he reaches round me from behind with a bottle of the sweetest
smelling oil.  His hand on mine, we lubricate my cock, stroking in unison.
A little oil, too, on the tips of my fingers, and I run my fingers between
your cheeks, stopping on your tight rosebud pucker.  We grasp my cock and
slide it up and down your crack, -- part of you would like to squirm away
now, wouldn't it?  But you don't want it to stop, either, and I know you
are anxious to have me inside you, you try to push yourself back against
the head of my dick every time I bring it near the entrance to that sweet
place.  Your breathing is ragged.  I smile, knowing that you know the sound
of your pleasure makes me crazy.  The dark-skinned man guides my cock so
that its head rests again your anus.  He reaches around me and takes you by
the hips.  He begins to push against me.  Gently, but insistently.  I gasp,
watching as the tensed muscles of your asshole slowly yield, clinging to
the head of my dick as it sinks into your little boy pussy.

I resist his pushing, I am afraid that too much, too soon will hurt you and
destroy this moment that was so long in coming.  He is gentle, but he will
not be put off, the force is inexorable, and you strain against your bonds,
torn between wanting and fearing the coming penetration.

Suddenly you take a long, shuddering breath, the tension gives way, and I
am deep inside you.  A long throaty moaning roar gets away from me - I am
overcome with the sheer joy of it, the beautiful lines of your body, the
incredible closeness, the sweet slipperiness of the oil, the feel of you
beneath me, the sight of you, oh my god, the look of you, my angel, so
submissive, so giving, so taken.  I hold more than your beautiful body in
my hands, I know this.  What a gift you are to me.  I silently thank the
Lady for you..

Slowly I recover the thinking parts of myself as the man behind me begins
to slide his cock up and down the full length of my slit.  I have never
been so wet there, so ready, but what I want is you... I want to fuck you
so full of this gorgeous cock that you have to scream.  I want to hear and
feel you wanting more and more of this cock jammed up your cute little ass.
I want to fuck you right in half, to fill you so full of this cock that you
choke on it.  I pull back from you, watching the muscles clinging on the
outstroke, defining the head of my cock, creating that moment of tension
just before it might spring free.  But then I stop pulling, and slowly let
it work its way back into you, ever so slowly, and the next moan is yours.
You strain to meet it, rocking your hips beneath me, your wanting at the
center of my universe.  God, it's lovely to go into you so slowly, so
sweetly.

The other cock between my legs continues that lovely slish, traveling from
my clit to the back of my hole as the beautiful gentleman rubs himself
lazily against me.  Suddenly, just as I have sunk my cock into you clear to
the hilt, he grips me round the waist and thrusts himself into me.  The
moment is blinding.  My cunt clamps down and the incredible sensation of
fullness overwhelms me.  To be so filled, so full, to be spread so wide, to
have been entered by another, penetrated so deeply, and to be at the same
time buried deep inside you is more than I can contain.  I marvel at the
way it feels to have this cock, not even my own, but somehow I am so full
of sensation that surely it must be mine, to have it inside you, knowing
that the sensation of fullness that I am having is one we are sharing.

He strokes my cunt with his big wonderfully human cock, rocking me, working
me in and out of you, too.  You lie beneath me, content to feel yourself
being filled and emptied again and again.  The fucking I am getting builds
and builds, his cock is lovely and it's huge, and then I am coming and
coming, moaning and writhing and screaming with it, as he keeps driving it
into me, sending me deeply into you, god, it's beautiful, fucking you.  I
reach the crest, peak there forever, and then ride down the far side of the
wave, exhausted, spent.  He holds me 'round the waist, stroking me,
soothing me.

But now it's apparent that he is not finished.  He lifts me gently,
carefully, disengaging me from you.  The blonde man hurries over to take me
from him, carrying me easily in his arms.  A tiny whine escapes me, I don't
want to leave you.  But the dark man's cock is huge and throbbing, and his
intent is obvious.  You are still bent over the bed, open and exposed, and
you know, too what's coming.  You try to bury the small moans - are they
moans of fear?  Anticipation?  I can't tell.  When it's us, I love to hear
you like that, and I want desperately to wrap my arms around you, but there
will be none of that.  The dark man will not be turned aside from having
you, the blonde holds me firmly now, on his lap on the sofa, and the
tension is incredible.  The air in the room shimmers.  He steps between
your legs and now he is very liberal with the sweet oil, I see it run down
the insides of your thighs.  His cock is in his hand, and he strokes it
only once or twice before the head of it is resting against you.  He is not
necessarily rough with you, but he is surely not gentle either.  Caught in
a slow motion moment, I find I am watching a lusciously huge and undeniably
real man's cock taking you in the ass, and I know that it has a way and a
feel about it that makes it so that what I can give you is just never ever
going to be the same again.  I feel a tear hovering at the corner of my eye
knowing this, and knowing that what you are feeling must be incredible,
having waited and wondered for so long.  With your hips held in his hands,
he fucks you deeply and fully, his body beautifully rippled in the
candlelight and his face suffused with his arousal.  As he starts to come
he plunges his entire length into you and the waves of his orgasm shudder
through him.

You've said that you have not come from this stimulation before, but this,
this has made the difference.  When I saw you go rigid beneath him, I
feared that you might be in pain, but no, pain was far from your thoughts.
With his cock buried deep in you, him holding you tightly against him, I
watch your orgasm course through you in great spasms.  In some way, on some
level I cannot explain, I come too.  It rocks me to the core, and the
blonde wraps his arms around me as I arch and strain, panting hard.

And then the room is silent, candles flickering, their reflections in the
windows making stars of the raindrops, the tears in my eyes making stars of
the flames.  The blonde holds me against his broad chest as the little
earthquakes gradually fade and finally go still.  He stands and carries me
to the bed, lays me close beside you.  I stroke the long hard muscles of
your back, my love flowing from the tips of my fingers.  The dark man eases
his cock from inside you, the both of you slowly returning to the room and
the reality around us.  The other dark-skinned man is untying the cords
that held you, and gently massaging your wrists.  Together they move to
bend your knees, to turn you on your side, lifting you further onto the
bed, to lay next to me, your back to my belly, like spoons.  You snuggle
deeper into the shape of us with a sigh.  I wrap my arm tight around you,
my heart full of the love of you, kissing your shoulder blade.

The last thing I hear before I drift away is the quiet snick of the door
closing behind the three men and the gentle tap on the windows as the rain
continues through the night at 742 Binghamton Avenue.