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After examining you for a long moment, she reached out to you, but with
her riding crop, not her hand. The touch of it on your cheek brought a
gasp from you, as the cold leather stroked your skin. The leather was
soft, smooth, more like a lover’s touch than hard hide, as she caressed
you. First the face, then the neck, along the line of your arms, then
down over the corset to your legs. First the calves, then the thighs,
then (to your agony and delight) to the space between your legs. With
a sure, steady hand, she stroked you there, as you writhed and squirmed
with delight and lust. Your could feel yourself running down the
insides of your thighs as she teased, prodded, and caressed you. Then,
with a swift motion, she pulled you to her, grasping the crop in both
hands, using it like a bar to pull your body to hers. Then, after a
deep, wet, searching kiss, she pushed you down to your knees before
her. You looked up at her, loving, adoring, asking with your eyes for
her to command you.

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In your surprise, you could do nothing but open your lips to her. Your
mouths touched, and the touch was electric. Her tongue slid in without
resistance, meeting yours, probing, searching. Her body pressed
against yours, and through your dress and corset you could feel hers,
hard and trim. One arm was wrapped around your waist, the other
stroking your hair. You clutched at her back, devoid of thought,
writhing in her grasp. When she finally raised her head, your eyes
were closed, panting. No mere hint of arousal now: you could feel the
moisture between your legs, demanding, begging for more. After an
instant she retrieved her crop, and led you up the staircase. You
followed behind her by one pace, meek, afraid but far too lost in
desire to resist anything. Up the stairs, down a hall, through a door,
another hall, until you were lost in the maze-like mansion, until
finally you reach a door for which she produces a key. (Who is this
woman, you think, who has keys to a house she does not live in.)

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Holding the snifter in her hand, Kathy walked over to the folding doors
at the back of the living room. Opening one of the panels inward, she saw
that the doors gave way to a wrought iron balcony overlooking a splendid
gazebo. She was just about to walk over to the wood covered enclosure of the
spa overlooking the oriental landscape of the backyard when Stephanie came up
behind her.

“Beautiful sight, under a full moon, at four in the morning; isn’t it?”

“Beautiful,” Kathy’s voice was a croak in her throat, “doesn’t do this
near the justice it deserves.”

“And what’s really relaxing,” Stephanie continued, “is a luscious soak
in the hot tub over there.”

“Yeah,” Kathy replied innocently, “if I’d known I was going to be
exposed to all this tonight, I would have put my swim suit in the car before I
went to work.”

“Swim suits be damned!”

Stephanie’s words echoed in Kathy’s ear as she stepped out from behind
her. Her nakedness took Kathy by surprise, her body an elegant picture that
should have been on the front of a magazine.

Stephanie’s body, Kathy quickly noted, revealed that she spent many
hours under the sun without a stitch of clothing on. There wasn’t a cen-
timeter of pale flesh peaking through the richly bronzed tan which covered
every inch of her smooth flesh. Even her pink nipples had been turned crimson
by the ultra-violet rays of daylight, the areolae providing a reddish-brown
platform for their rich fullness. The richness of Stephanie’s tan was
quaintly offset by the manicured thicket of strawberry hair between her legs,
its hue slightly paler than the windswept mane atop her head.

“Come on, strip out of that horribly confining clothing and join me in
the hot tub.”

Stephanie’s words were thrown over her shoulder as she padded across the
porch and immersed herself in the bubbling warmth filling the tub set flush in
the porch flooring.

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Shirll spread her legs and reclined on her bed. The music pulsed deeply, going into her very essence, causing her erotic mood to become highly sensorial. Her fingers traced the smooth lines of her body. Using a knife to cut away her panties seemed more erotically stimulating that simply removing them or masturbating through the … [Read more…]

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November 3 Dear Diary, It’s getting cold outside! I love the holidays, but I have more pressing things to think about right now! Gary keeps wanting to fuck us, and we keep putting him off! I can tell that Emma is really close to giving in to him, she is so in love with his … [Read more…]