'Jemima's Tale'{Jemimaheart}(MM tv 1st mast anal con)[1!1]
Jemima's Tale - A true story by jemimaheart@hotmail.com
Part 1 - Aftermath
I'm exhausted.
I'm still lying where he left me: half-naked, covered in sweat and face-down on my own living-room carpet. The wet patches under my thighs and stomach feel tight and sticky on my bare skin. The wool carpet is itchy against my right cheek and uncovered waist. The whole room seems to distinctly smell of sex - the sweet musk of sperm, to be more precise...
Sweat cools on my forehead as I gingerly move my left hand down, passing the damp limpness of my satiated prick, to reach under my raised left leg, with the aim of trying to gently sooth the dull ache that throbs between my buttocks.
There was no escaping the fact that I had been well and truly fucked...
Images of the previous few hours flit restlessly across my mind, strange memories of new feelings and sensations that I had never known before today. Never before have I had to face myself with the knowledge that my lips and hands and body had touched and caressed and sexually explored another man. That I had played the female for him, first performing intimate sexual acts for his pleasure, before finally letting him use me to satisfy his lust. Even now, half-undressed in frilly white lingerie, I was spread out across a carpet still damp with the evidence of our coupling - not only his semen but also my own.
My cheeks grow warm at the thought that only an hour ago people were walking past my front window - literally just feet away from the scene of my debasement. If their vision had managed to penetrate the obscuring white net curtains, they could have seen me in my full shameful glory: down on all fours in the middle of the floor, desperately thrusting my bare bottom for it was worth back into the groin of the naked blond man kneeling up behind me...
At this image, I once more feel the strong hands round my waist, holding me down firmly, brooking no escape from the stiff demands of his cock. With a remembered thrill of lust, my own prick once more complies obediently with my new-found role, stirring gently against my sticky thigh at my reawakening excitement (...I had let that man - that stranger - fuck me like I was a woman...) and I had loved it. All my unthinkable, long-buried desires had rushed to the surface and come tumbling out at last, clumsy and desperate with the strength of their need. There was no excuse left for me - no-one had forced me to accept his kisses or suck his prick, and neither had I been held down and raped - what I had done today, I had done willingly, unleashing all my hidden lustful fantasies of offering myself to a man to fulfil his every sexual need and desire. No longer could I pretend that my dressing up and my 'special sessions' were just a release of innocent fantasy; now I had exposed myself as someone who derived his greatest sexual excitement from actively playing the feminine role in bed. Gay, queer, homosexual - the words were probably true but my throbbing anus didn't care, it just knew the wonderful, panting, excitement that had come from being opened and stretched by a stiff, thrusting prick.
How long ago it seemed since all I knew was my old world, the solitary world of secret desires and unfulfilled longings...
Part 2 - Preparing for Pleasure
Inevitably, the day had dragged at work, and I was out of the office door and walking home, dead on leaving time. Even as I walked along the street, tempting pictures of the secret hoard that awaited me in the back of my bedroom wardrobe formed in my mind and I was glad that the length of my jacket obscured my burgeoning hard-on from the traffic.
Once home, I rushed upstairs, quickly stripped off my everyday clothing and went into the shower. When I emerged with smooth-shaven legs and behind, perfumed and talcum-powdered all over, it felt like I had finally rid myself of the day.
I went into the bedroom, opened the large mirrored wardrobe door and retrieved the innocent looking box labelled 'photocopy paper'. Inside, carefully folded and wrapped in tissues, numerous items of feminine apparel lay waiting to be enjoyed. Carefully I extracted my intended outfit for the evening and laid it out ritually on the bed: two white satin hair ribbons; a white satin choker; sheer white silk stockings with deep lace tops, pretty white lace strapless bra - full cup and expertly padded, a white satin baby-doll nightdress with matching frilly-backed pants; matching white satin suspender-belt, fingerless opera gloves in white lace; white leather stilettoes with 3-inch heels;
To complete the look, a pair of long clip-on silver earrings and matching ankle-bracelet.
Then I set out the necessary items to complete my fantasy session: a pink latex anal vibrator; a 7-inch long, flesh-coloured, dildo - shaped like a real phallus; a jar of Pond's 'cold cream' and box of tissues; a 12-inch metal ruler; four meter lengths of nylon cord...
My make-up box went on the dressing table, then I put my maids dress, basque, playsuits and other delights back in the box, restoring it to its hiding place in the wardrobe. I sat on the bed and selected the colour scheme for my lipstick and eyeshadow.
My reflection in the mirror watched as gradually normal everyday features became carefully transformed with an application of pale blue eyeshadow, a light touch of mascara and the drawing on of full, luscious, red lips. A hint of blusher to accent the cheekbones and an altogether more feminine reflection appeared in the mirror. This was Jemima - her open, inexperienced, features contrasting with the sparkle of intense longing and passion that shone in her seductively made-up eyes. She wanted to express her feelings and herself so much, but always, when she started to let go, their very nature and strength overwhelmed and frightened her. Only when she really could not stand it any longer, like today, would she allow her inner self out to satiate itself with a few precious hours of guilt and pleasure.
I took the ribbons and tied up my fair-brown, shoulder-length, hair into two cute schoolgirl bunches high up on my head. The lace choker went round my neck, tying at the back with a bow. The delicate material brushed my smoothly powdered chin and I pouted into the mirror, admiring the effect. My heart was already beating a little faster with the forbidden excitement of looking and acting like a girl. I reached for the nail-varnish, and sat naked on the bed, painting my fingers and toes crimson red, to match my lips. They dried quickly in the cool room.
At last it was time to get dressed.
Still sitting, I opened the packet of stockings and unfolded them from the cardboard. The late afternoon sun through the bedroom window gave them a luxurious pearl-like sheen. I took one, stretching it over my hand and gently rolling it up, then bent down to my freshly painted foot - always the right one first - and slid my toes into the weightless ring of silk. This moment always felt the same, seemingly significant or symbolic. I seemed to become slightly light-headed as I pulled the silk up over my heel, and beyond, watching and feeling first my calf, then knee and finally thigh gripped smoothly in a sheen of fine white silk. I repeated the process with the left stocking, pulling it high up my thigh to match its twin. A few inches above the lacy stocking-tops, my prick began to stir with familiar excitement.
I wrapped the lacy bra around my chest, reversing it so I could fasten it easily at the front. Sliding it round to the correct position gave me two beautifully curvaceous breasts.
Next I wrapped the white satin suspender belt around my waist, again securing it at the front then sliding it round. The front two suspenders attached easily; I stood up, the bedroom carpet caressing the soles of my stockinged feet, and turned putting first one foot, then the other, up on the bed, stretching each remaining suspender down under the curve of my buttocks until they gripped the back of the lace stocking-tops.
Instantly I became aroused, feeling the soft, elastic tug of the suspenders holding the silk hose firmly in place. My heart was beating faster as I reached for the panties. They felt like the softest thing I had ever touched, shiny and new, the many frills of white lace making them unexpectedly heavy in my hand. I bent and stepped into the elasticated leg holes. Pulling them up around my waist, I heard and felt the exquisite rasp of satin gliding over stockings and suspenders, then coolly clinging to my bare thighs until finally my buttocks and stiffened prick were deliciously encased in the taut, white garment.
It took seconds to bend and place my feet in the 4-inch heels of the stilettoes; a moment to secure the thin leather straps over and above my ankles. When I again stood the effect was amazing - the angle of the shoes pulling my silk-clad calves and thighs tight and sexy, my bum raised and pushed out invitingly.
Eager to complete my outfit, I pulled the matching white nightie over my head, adjusting the thin lace straps on my shoulders. The sheer satin fell down from the large bow below my bustline, reaching to mid-thigh. It was obviously designed to reveal a great deal of the wearers frilly-pantied bottom. The gloves slid up to cling to my upper arms, leaving red tipped fingers free to explore and caress...
I looked over my shoulder, to critically regard the overall effect in the mirror, and there was Jemima, all dressed to please in white satin and lace and waiting for her man to take her. Her enticing vision of feminine sexuality brought into contrast by the unmistakable male bulge nestling within the frill-backed panties, half-revealed by the shortie nightdress...
Part 3 - Satisfying Jemima
Quickly, I placed all my 'equipment' out on the left edge of the bed, removing the top from the jar of cold cream and laying out a big wad of tissues - in case of accidents...
Satisfied, I lay back on the edge of the bed, my stiletto heels resting deep into the pile of the bedroom carpet. I ran my right hand over my breasts and felt my nipples stiffen lazily beneath the satin and lace. Slowly, I slid my hand down to my satin-encased prick. For a while, I allowed one crimson-coated nail to draw slow sensuous circles of pleasure across the surface of the tautly pushed out material. Then letting it join its companions in firmly grasping the delightfully-imprisoned column, trapping it in a tight fistful of sheer, silky, underwear. They started to sliding the material up and down the swollen hardness, stroking it back and forth, back and forth, in a long, slow, universal rhythm of pleasure.
I closed my eyes and felt my excitement growing more urgent at the many sensations running through me. I began to push down with my feet, freeing my bottom to move up and down off the bedspread, as I masturbated myself through the satin panties.
Through the growing pleasure, I imagined it was someone else's hand - another man's hand - who was working my prick for me like this; imagine if he was trying to get me so aroused that I would do anything for him, let him do anything...
My heart started to beat faster, and I knew that I could deny the familiar, unsatisfied, craving no longer. I lowered my bottom back to the bed and, with a final caress of prick through panties, raised my legs up and back until my knees were over my waist. The points of my stilettoes pointed at the wardrobe mirror, and I looked down between my breasts, through my splayed thighs to see my reflection, lying on my back, legs spread and silken bottom displayed, a woman waiting anxiously for her lover to mount and take her.
I watched my right hand reach over my crotch, down to the seat of the panties, and deftly find the secret hollow hiding beneath its tight satin covering. Frills tickled my knuckles as I pressed, gently at first, then more firmly, pushing the satin against the opening bud of my anus. My legs quivered in the air. Still watching my reflection, I reached out, my left hand found the cool latex barrel of the vibrator. Deftly, I dipped the rounded end of the slender anal 'finger' into the cold-cream. Holding it practicedly between thumb and middle finger, I positioned my forefinger over the switch on the rear end. I put it between my legs.
With my other hand, I pulled the crotch of the panties to one side, displaying my bare anus to the mirror. I teased the eager sphincter with the smooth, lubricated tip of the vibrator, enjoying the glorious sensation of being widened and probed by the slippery head. A push with my forefinger and it slid easily inside, instantly filling my bottom with a warm, satisfying ache of fulfilment. (...ohh please - fill me with it - fill me with your hard cock...) My captive prick strained even harder against its satin enclosure.
The blunt end of the cylinder bumped against the hot flesh of my perineum. I clenched my muscles round the slender but firm invader, strangely proud that I had taken its entire 7 inches were up inside me. It felt so good and so right to be penetrated like this. I let my head rest back on the bedcovers, closed my eyes and switched the vibrator on.
A building sensation of pure, deeply-felt, pleasure buzzed through my entire lower body. In my mind, the sound of the small motor whirring in the still room merged with the grinding pulse of the latex cylinder buried between my legs until they were one and the same. Of their own volition, my hips shifted on the bed, while, helplessly, I reached into the panties and began to wank uncontrollably in time to the waves of noise that thrust and churned inside me. (...yess that's it - give it to me - oh god I can feel it...) My fingers trembled to the rhythm of the grinding latex cylinder; I pulled it out and pushed it back inside of me, giving my hot slippery anus the full benefit of the vibrations, my orgasm started to build, centred exquisitely at the dual core of anus and groin. It was too soon... to soon to fill the soft satin panties with cascades of creamy spunk.
Reluctantly, I pulled the vibrator out of me, switched it off and dropped it on the wad of tissues. My anus felt hot and scratchy, bereft of its welcome invader. I felt flushed and sexy. Sitting up, I turned to kneel up on the bed, desperate to continue and increase the sensations running through me.
I looked over my shoulder at my reflection and sensuously licked my crimsoned lips . I pushed my satin-clad rear out, making a show of ruffling the generous frills that covered it, before taking the waistband of the panties and starting to pull them down over the taut suspender straps. Inch by inch, the pale cheeks of my bottom were completely uncovered. I left the panties stretched tight across my thighs and with my right hand reached down to grasp the shiny metal of the 12-inch ruler.
Jemima was being very naughty and she deserved to be reminded her that such degrading, sluttish behaviour was not to be tolerated. I pressed the flat steel into the skin of my right buttock; appreciating the feeling of the cool metal. Gently I began to tap the ruler against my bottom, making the surface of the flesh vibrate slightly and causing a slight stinging feeling. Still very much aroused by my near-orgasm, I watched helplessly as my hand slapped harder, first one buttock, then the other, feeling myself enjoying the increasing tingling heat building in my cheeks. My knees shifted on the bed with the warm pleasure flooding through my behind. A glance in the mirror showed my flushed bottom taking its punishment like a man...
From under my nightdress, my unfettered prick strained excitedly out in front of me; I smacked harder and harder now, my whole rear flaming redder with each rhythmic slap of the ruler. (...Ahh show me that burning arse - yes that's right, show me how you love it...) Delirious with the combined sensations of stinging pain and ecstatic pleasure, I just wanted relief, to be fucked, to be dressed like a girl and made to come with my prick exploding and my hole filled up with a stiff cock...
Part 4 - Final Release
It was too much. My stomach felt sick with excitement and my thoughts were feverish with sexual images of release. Suddenly I knew what I would do; a special thing that I had previously devised. I would take my dildo and fuck myself from behind until I climaxed over the floor...
I threw the ruler aside and climbed off the bed. Pausing to feel the heat from my reddened buttocks, I carefully pulled the panties down to my ankles and stepped out of them: now nothing would get in the way. Grabbing the dildo, I exited the bedroom, the feeling of cool air moving across my body making me very aware of the gorgeous lingerie I wore.
It felt extremely naughty to go downstairs and enter the living room, in full daylight, made up and dressed to thrill in stockings and heels. The lace curtains prevented anyone seeing in, but the room still added to my arousal by making me feel daringly revealed. In front of me, under the window, I saw what I needed - the brown leather sofa. I caressed my stiff erection, reminding it of what was to come, and knelt down in front of the sofa.
Years of feverish experimentation had led me to discover that it was possible to firmly wedge a long, cylindrical object between the tightly packed leather cushions of this sofa, in such a manner that it stuck out, strong and proud, waiting to be used as an instrument of desperate pleasure. Doggie-style, I would get on my hands and knees and, backing my eager bottom onto the rigid dildo, fuck myself deliciously from behind...
I pushed the end of the dildo into the dark crevice between cushion and armrest. By twisting it slightly, I ensured that it couldn't be pulled out - not even if gripped with the tightest of muscles...
I looked around. "Shit..." I said to myself. In my eagerness, I had left the cold cream upstairs. I felt around between my bare buttocks and fingered my anus - still fairly moist from earlier attentions, but in need of a little extra help. (...oh well - nothing for it but to use the natural method...) Impatiently, I got down on my hands and knees in front of the protruding dildo, leant forwards and placed my lips over the realistic purple glans. Automatically, I closed my eyes and began to run my tongue around the head of the fake penis, making it nice and wet. It was the well-endowed prick of my lover that I took into my mouth, sucking him excitingly, making him ready to take me. Soon I would impale myself deliciously on this hard, thick, shaft, so the slippier it was, the easier it would slip inside...
"Fucking hell." said a quiet voice directly behind me.
Part 5 - Caught in the Act
My eyes snapped wide open. My mouth released the dildo and I looked over my shoulder with a gasp. There, standing in the doorway, was a tall blonde man staring open mouthed at the sight in front of him. How long had he been there? I couldn't move a muscle. I was completely, utterly, exposed: on all fours, dressed in sexy white lingerie, legs splayed wide, bare bottom in the air, and fellating a dildo for all I was worth. (...found out! - I've been found out!...) My secret was out.
I could not seem to think consciously. I remember that it felt like I was living to survive every next second and no more. My mind seemed to absorb the facts that he was well-built, late-30's, blue eyes and a fair moustache, wearing a green T-Shirt, jeans and sandals. Another impression was that this man seemed to possess a distinct bulge at the crotch area of his jeans. (...was it possible? - could he be...?)
"OOh..." I murmured tremulously and something deep inside me, deep inside Jemima, made me wriggle my bottom slightly in my distress. It must have been obvious to him that I was not a girl - for a start, I thought, feeling my face flush at the image, my balls would be visible to him, hanging below my naked bum-crack, but maybe something within him was responding to my explicit signals of sexual submission. My girlish make-up and hair, sexy white stockings and high heels, and particularly the smooth feminine buttocks openly displayed before him, could perhaps be providing enough female sexual signals for him to become aroused.
Still looking over my shoulder, I met his gaze, then dropped mine submissively. "I..I.." I started to try to say something, anything, to make it go away. I knew from the heat on my cheeks that I was now blushing ferociously. I slowly sat back on my heels, removing any male elements from his view.
"Oh God." I finally uttered, and hid my face in lace-gloved hands. "Please..." In my shame, I still couldn't get any coherent words out. I was totally at his mercy.
I felt him come and stand near my right shoulder, and I knew he was looking down at me cowering on the carpet before the protruding evidence of my humiliation.
"So you like being fucked, then, do you?" The "by men" was left unspoken. He asked in a matter-of -fact, obtaining information sort of way, which made it seem a lot worse, somehow. I flinched behind my hands. No answer seemed possible.
"Well?" he said eventually.
"I don't know, I've never done it," I made myself whisper, " I just.." (...fantasise about it, day and night...) my reply trailed off into silence.
"You're queer, though, yes?"
This was really awful. Although he was just asking this stuff straight out, I felt like I was destroying myself a bit more with every reply. "I don't know..." I repeated quietly.
There was a long silence. He came nearer, looking me up and down intently, until his thigh was almost touching my bare shoulder. In a moment, I found that I had turned towards him, and reached around, hugging him to me, pressed my head into his stomach beseechingly. I felt the heat of him through the thin cotton T-shirt. He didn't push me away.
"Please..." I heard myself mumbling into his jeans, "don't tell anyone. Please..I'll do anything."
Unconsciously, my left hand moved from round his waist and rested on his upper thigh. I really had intended no connotations in my simple plea, but when I felt a definite swell of warmth beneath the jeans next to my fingertips, my heart literally skipped a beat. Unknowingly, it seemed that I had truly put any future outcome in my own hands.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to silently cover that self-same bulge in his jeans with red-nailed fingers and lightly stroke the swelling denim. - He can feel me touching him - He neither spoke nor moved away. His breathing stayed slow and regular against my right ear. I was acting on pure unconscious instinct, aware of nothing but the twin textures of smooth, worn denim under my hands and wool carpet through my stocking-clad knees. I remember thinking, as if watching myself from a distance, 'oh look you're feeling his prick', but it seemed to have no bearing on what I actually was feeling. It was if it had all been mapped out for me, long ago. I had been caught pretending to be a girl, so it seemed only right that I should now act like one. I licked my dry lips, tasting lipstick, and deliberately, unmistakably, began to caress him through the pale blue fabric.
Under my fingers, the hidden member hardened, its shape full and obvious behind the zip fly of the jeans. (... oh God, he wants it...) It took an instant to grasp the zip fastener and pull down. I knew I was holding my breath as the prick, covered with its canopy of black briefs, sprang free as much as it could. Still, he said nothing, so I watched my fingers cover the warm bulge in front of me and firmly stroke him through the thin cotton. A gasp from above me and a slight shifting of his hips let me indeed know that, yes, he was going to allow me to suck him off, as though I really was a girl.
Careful only to look directly at his groin, I kneeled up straight and placed a respectful kiss directly on the member intent on releasing itself before me. Awkwardly, I reached for the waistband of his jeans and, finding it strangely unfastened, simply hooked my fingers in his underpants. A single strong pull eased both briefs and jeans well down muscled thighs.
His cock bounced free, just missing my cheek, and swung up to his navel. Immediately I smelt the strong, unmistakable musk of an excited male. I felt the reality of being on my knees in front of another man, his proudly erect cock just inches away from my face. My heart beat loud in my chest as I tried to take in what was happening to me - Take him in your mouth, totally give yourself to him. His prick was sturdy and fat, appearing to curve slightly to my left. It seemed very different to my own, now half-limp, organ - he was circumsized, for one thing. My attention was drawn to the rounded purple-red head as small drops of pre-come oozed out moistly. I felt a strange female urge to lick them off with my tongue. What would they taste like? I wondered absently. - There's only one way to find out.
Part 6 - Jemima's Moment of Truth
I reached out with a shaking hand, the contrast of bare fingers and white lace of the opera glove making the act even more sensuous, and lightly touched the stiff veiny shaft, making it wave to and fro. He gasped and shuddered lightly. I held the aroused manhood in my hand feeling the warm pulses of excitement coursing through it. I felt myself sliding out of control, totally abandoned and depraved. I wanted this so much.
Angling my head, I presented the rigid prick up to my open mouth. I lowered my head and took the tip of him between my reddened lips, distinctly feeling them close around the thickness of the shaft. I remember thinking how amazingly smooth and slightly damp it felt. I received his prick further into my mouth, my curious tongue discovering and intimately exploring the large spongy glans. When I sucked experimentally, he jerked in my mouth and I almost lost him, so I held the stiff cock steady with my left hand, instinctively bringing the other up to cradle the large taut, balls that dangled beneath.
After all the years of dreaming and fantasising about this moment (...I'm kneeling here sucking him...) - finally experiencing the full, sensuous taste and feel of a cock made me light-headed with excitement . Working sideways down the hard shaft, I pushed the head into my cheek and lathered the underside with saliva. The close male smell of him suddenly overwhelmed me and, light-headed with greedy pleasure, I leaned forwards and took as much of him in as I could manage.
Concentrating on trying to swirl my tongue directly over the swollen head, I murmured my approval, savouring the salty liquid taste that filled my mouth. I was a hungry calf suckling the fat and swollen teat offered to me, only dimly aware that saliva was running wetly across my chin. He moaned aloud now and I felt hands close around my head. It felt good to be held like that and I glanced upwards, my mouth now totally full of him, to see his head back, eyes shut tight, as he enjoyed my inexperienced ministrations at his groin.
His hands urged my head back and forth, and I quickly learnt, obediently sliding my mouth back and forth along the whole length of his cock, letting him almost withdraw from between my lips, then swallowing him right up again in a long, firm rhythm of pleasure. Automatically, I reached up and held onto his hips for purchase. Quicker and quicker his prick slid in and out of my mouth, my lipstick smearing crimson over the repeatedly bobbing shaft. He was actively moaning with pleasure now, and I could actually feel his engorged member swelling as it repeatedly bumped against the roof of my mouth.
My reward arrived unexpectedly; his grip on my hair became tighter, and suddenly he was coming, and my mouth filled with spurts of warm semen. Totally surprised, I struggled to accommodate the thick, salty, outpour but the best I could do was to swallow continuously, receiving his male seed gratefully, like a real woman, until the flow ebbed.
I knew from my own prick that after coming it became very sensitive, so I opened my lips and released the shiny wet member gently. It was still hard, the head bulbous and swollen from its recent release. I ran my tongue over my lips: the thought that I could still taste him in my mouth seemed to belong to another person; it really felt like I had changed - become someone else, perhaps truly growing into the person whom I had named Jemima - someone who enjoyed taking a man's cock into her mouth and making him climax. And worse than that, as Jemima I knew that I would gladly repeat the performance whenever I was allowed...
I stood on shaky legs and turned away from him to look at the window. Through the net curtain, two youths passed by noisily, I felt a thrill of pleasure from imagining that they might have observed my very first attempt at a blow-job. Things really had changed.
I felt a touch on my bare bottom and gasping, I gave a little jump. I started to turn but thought better of it and remained with my back to him. His hand wandered firmly over my left buttock, its owner drawing nearer to me. I shivered at the caress and pushed back ever so slightly, enjoying the sensation of the warm palm sliding across my cool, naked, flesh. Then he was behind me, both hands intimately exploring my rear. I was glad that I had taken time to ensure that it was as soft and feminine-smooth as possible. My heart started to beat faster again and I hoped that he was being aroused as much as I was. His hands moved up, round my waist and he pulled me back against him, simultaneously reaching his hands round to cup the curves of my breasts.
It was the stuff of my most intimate fantasies; I moaned out loud, surrendering to the vivid images in my mind, my excitement jutting out proudly from under my shortie nightdress. I felt his chest against my shoulders, his stomach against my back and for the first time in my life I felt the sensation of a man's erection pressing into my naked behind. Suddenly I was aware that a mutual decision had been made - he had decided that he didn't care whether I was a woman or not (... he's going to fuck me anyway...) and I was going to let him...
Part 7 - The Ultimate Submission
My head in a whirl, I leaned back against him fully, pushing my rear encouragingly against the newly-hardened prick. I felt its wet, exciting, hardness settle between my bottom cheeks as though it was the most natural place in the world for it to be. I surprised myself by immediately imagining an even better place for it to go...
Now totally aroused, I didn't care. I looked back over my left shoulder and was almost shocked as he kissed me, hard and open-mouthed, with a taste of smoke and mint. I murmured aloud with the pure sensuality of it, giving myself up to his male urgency, hungrily accepting his thrusting tongue, suddenly desperate in my desire to be totally mastered by him.
It went quickly then. He broke the kiss, leaving me momentarily gasping and confused; firm hands on my shoulders pushed down and obediently I dropped to my knees. A push in the small of my back propelled me forwards on outstretched arms. I felt the weight of my breasts as they hung towards the floor, the tug of the suspenders on my waist. The carpet was soft on the palms of my hands and I vaguely noticed the neglected dido still protruding from the sofa on my right.
He knelt down between my legs and used his knees to nudge mine further apart. Hands pushed my nightie up my back and caught me firmly by the waist. It was all going very fast and I felt totally dazed; I looked back and caught a glimpse of his intent, furrowed, brow beneath a blonde fringe, then I felt his efficient, shameless, fingers sliding up between my buttocks to rest directly over my anus. Gently but insistently, a finger probed my tight hole and, finding it still moist from the attentions of the vibrator a lifetime earlier, slid easily inside. I gasped at the delicious feeling of penetration and in an instinctive, female movement, raised my bottom up higher to aid its progress. A faint but distinctive smell filled the air and my face grew warm at the thought that it was coming from me. Trembling there, on outstretched hands and knees, I felt utterly open and vulnerable to this man behind me, as he began to explore the very core of my body. I knew now that I would let him do whatever he wanted to me, I was totally his, a sexual plaything for him to use however he liked.
The finger moved in slow circles, widening and stretching with a calculated erotic intent that brought my prick up hard and stiff below my bare stomach. Another finger joined it, moving in and out of the gripping muscle, a firm rhythmic glimpse of what was to come. I lowered myself forwards, my elbows resting on the soft carpet, and moaned in my abandonment. My knees spread wider apart and I could not help tipping my bottom up even further to meet the wonderful thrusting going on inside me. When I felt three fingers working into me my heartbeat leapt like I was going to die, I began to breathe heavily, sweat braking out on my forehead as the masterful digits pushed and stretched - making me ready to perform the ultimate sexual submission - to accept his stiff maleness inside my body.
The fingers withdrew and I felt my anus close around the sudden emptiness. Then I felt something both soft, yet strangely hard, run slowly over my open rosebud, before teasing it gently with little probing pushes. (...feel it - it's his cock - waiting to open you up...) He raised himself up behind me and his hands came up to steady my hips. I distinctly felt the large, sticky, head of his prick pressing directly against my raised entrance. Light-headed, and with excited anticipation churning in my stomach, I literally felt like I would faint, there on the carpet in front of him.
"Does that feel good, then?" Another little push of his prick opened me slightly, emphasising the tease in his question.
I was helpless to do anything but gasp back weakly: "..oh yes.. ...YES..", before he thrust his hips forward, pulling me back onto his prick in a single, powerful, movement. I cried out loud, feeling my anus stretching to accept the engorged thickness of his shaft; then suddenly, easily, he was inside. My head went back and my eyes closed with the intensity of the feelings within me. My arms and legs were trembling so much I could barely support myself.
The pressure in my bottom mounted and I could not help trying to bear down on the invading shaft. I winced momentarily at a sharp, burning pain, then it was gone and all I could feel was the slow but inexorable progress of his cock working its way into the deepest recesses of my body. (...fucking you - he's actually fucking you...)
I felt like I truly belonged to him now; this man whose stiffened prick was intent on wedging itself ever deeper between my open buttocks. I started to wriggle with the effort of taking it all in but the firm hands around my waist ensured that there was no escape - he was making me accept each and every inch of him. >From far away I heard luxurious female noises of appreciation and knew that they escaped from my own lips: "Oh... oh...OH!...ohh please!..."
Then all my dreams became swooning reality: a final push and his shaft slid inside completely. Cool, male thighs pressed firmly into my trembling backside; wiry pubic hair nestled up between my sweaty bottom cheeks. I swallowed hard, my thoughts on fire with the knowledge - and, oh yes, the feeling - that I had taken the entire length of this man's prick up deep inside my bottom, letting him totally possess me.
For a few moments we stayed still like that. Maybe he was giving me time to get used to the exquisite feelings that rippled through the very core of my being. My only thoughts were that it felt so good and so right to be taken like this, and the longer it went on the better and better it felt. The feeling of being totally filled and stretched by his wonderful prick grew stronger and stronger, matched only by my mounting arousal.
I threw back my head and began to pant, my excitement fuelled by the sudden thought that the same stiff column of flesh that was buried to the hilt inside my bottom, had minutes earlier been thrust between my rouged and eager lips. He was really and truly making me his...
Unable to help myself, I once more resorted to trying to clench my muscles around the rampant, invading shaft. This time there was no discomfort; instead I suddenly became so completely aware of the entire wonderful length buried inside me that I moaned in sheer pleasure and literally squirmed on the end of his prick. This seemed to give him the cue to withdraw slightly from me before returning, exquisitely filling me once more. I found this movement extremely arousing and he repeated it, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. As his slippery rod slid back and forth into my yielding anus, I realised that, gently but firmly, I was now properly being fucked...
My rear was on fire from this new assault. The gorgeous man behind me pushed harder and harder into the accommodating cheeks of my bottom; each slap of the powerful thighs pounding against my quivering backside forcing an answering gasp of utter pleasure from my open, panting mouth.
Over my shoulder, a hissed groan let me know of his own enjoyment and sent violent surges of warmth blasting through my groin. I was acutely aware of his thick cock thrusting into me, his strong arms supporting me, the backs of my stockings sticking sweatily to the front of his own thighs, the silk hem of my nightie falling to brush the head of my own straining prick...
Suddenly it was all too much. Arching my back and choking out a cry of absolute ecstasy, I jammed my bottom right back against him and came all over the carpet beneath me, my prick squirting jets of spunk uncontrollably, as I writhed in the grip of the greatest orgasm of my entire life.
Helpless in my climax, my muscles locked in a steel reflex round his cock. I briefly felt him shudder before he slammed his groin into my rear with a thrust that lifted my knees from the carpet. An arm scooped beneath my waist, pulling me back tight against him. He grunted in pleasure and I squealed my encouragement, actually feeling his prick jerking wildly inside me. Then, for the first time in my life, I knew the incredible sensation of a man ejaculating into my anus. Warm semen spurted into me, completely flooding my insides. I moaned out loud, totally overwhelmed with the delicious sensation of his come pumping inside me, deep and strong.
It seemed to go on for ages. I felt totally depraved, wantonly pressing my buttocks back onto him while he finished inside me. It felt so totally right. I felt like I wanted to be Jemima all the time... I would live only to dress up in sexy underwear and be fucked by this strong, masculine, man... but above all, to receive this warm sticky fulfilment of his lust up between the cheeks of my bottom, over and over again...
Part 8 - Jemima's Future
Finally he was done. He groaned once more and eased his grip on my waist. My knees at last gave way and I slumped forwards to the floor. The movement caused his prick to withdraw, and I gave a little cry as it bounced stickily along my bottom-crack and away.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, I rested my cheek on the soft carpet and winced slightly, my softening and sensitive member now trapped beneath my stomach. I became aware that I was lying in a significant amount of damp patches. Now exposed to the air, the entrance to my anus felt distinctly wet and sticky with his sperm. I closed my eyes and marvelled at how I was feeling: now that I had finally done it, how satisfying it had felt to be made love to bu a man. What was strange was that my orgasm had not diminished my excitement by one iota - already I found myself excitedly wondering if being fucked in a different position would feel different, maybe on my back like a woman so I could kiss him as he took me - a whole world of possibilities was opening up for Jemima to explore her secret lustful fantasies...
He knelt down in front of my face and I opened my eyes. I was surprised to see that he was already fully dressed. His hand reached down, tilting my chin up to look at him. I felt myself blush again, thinking of the intimacy that I had just shared with this stranger, feeling vulnerable yet terrible aroused at the same time.
His steady gaze held mine and I heard him say: "I've got to go. Be here next week. Same time..." His blue eyes flickered over my lingerie-clad body and my heart missed a beat as he added: "...and be ready for me."
Then he stood and was gone.
As I drifted off to sleep, vaguely aware of the kitchen door closing (...is that how he got in?...) behind my new lover, (...you don't even know his name...) I knew that my life had changed forever. Twenty-eight years of repression and denial had been brought to a climax - literally - by letting Jemima, myself, express those deepest longings to make love to a man. Now that it had finally happened and I had lost my virginity for a second - and maybe third - time, I knew that it no longer mattered whether it was 'strange' to enjoy adopting a particular type of feminine sexual role. It was neither right or wrong, it was just how it was.
All I knew was that I derived the most unbelievable excitement from being taken by a strong demanding male, teasing and pandering to his wildest sexual fantasies, then pleasing him and also myself, by acquiescing to his unleashed lusts. I had always imagined that this was true, and now I had real experience to back it up.
I had a whole week to plan my appearance for this next rendezvous. Just enough time for a mail-order purchase to arrive... or should I stay all-innocent in white, now that I knew how well it worked? Maybe he'd appreciate my lovely, frilly, maids outfit?...
He wouldn't know what hit him...