Short Story: And You're Welcome

I propped my head upwards and laid on my side, watching you as you laid on my pillow, sound asleep, probably too tired from what we've done together tonight. I observed as each breath of air entered and exited you, your breasts rising and falling under the light of the rising sun, the dim light illuminating your nakedness.

I raised my hand to stroke your hair, soft and thin, much unlike my own thick and wavy hair. You did not stir, and you seem like a statue, a mannequin for me to appreciate to my heart's content. Your face was warm to the touch of my cold hands, the residue of a blusher put on by unskilled hands. Yet there was a beauty there, a beauty in imperfection, one that reminded me of my youth and innocence so very long ago.

I leaned in to take in the scent of your shampoo, the floral scent delightful to my nose, a warm and homely smell that laid on my pillow. I sunk my head into your hair, each breath deeper than the last, as if I was trying to breathe you into me.

My hand continued to caress you lightly, holding your head in my hands, protectively. I followed the curve of your cheekbones to come to the nape of your neck, brushing my thumb against your jawline as I went lower.

I planted a kiss on your forehead, and yet you did not stir, save for the rising and falling of your chest within each breath of air you take.

My hands reached your collarbone, which was visible under your skin due to how skinny you were. It seemed a little absurd, really, that despite how skinny you were, you had shapely round breasts. Not as big as other girls, I suppose, yet they were large for someone as slim as you were. Better yet, they moulded perfectly into my hands, which I just did.

I felt the soft and tender flesh under my fingertips, and my hand followed up and down with each time you inhaled and exhaled. With the stimulation, I felt your body shift a little, perhaps you were at the edge of coming back to reality.

I propped myself up, lowering my head to your breasts. I let my long hair fall on you, the tips grazing against your skin as I went lower. I looked up close at your nipples, a pair of protrusions that looked almost different in almost every girl, as far as I know. Yet all of them reacted the same way, this I know.

Bringing my lips to your breasts, I stuck out my tongue and gave your nipple a lick, tasting you, taking in your feminine scent. I lowered my mouth to cover your nipple, swirling the brown tip in my mouth with my tongue, gently and slowly, much unlike how guys would often turn into savages when they do so. After all, I'm not in a rush, and your pleasure is all mine.

I hear your moan rumble through your chest with my mouth upon your breasts, an unsure squeak, a gentle whimper. I teased you a little with my tongue, going up and down your nipple, flicking it within my mouth. I gave your nipple a gentle suction, all while moving my hands all over your torso, slowly rousing you.

I feel your hands on my head, unsure hands that patted my hair. I turned my head upwards, gazing past my fringe at your puppy eyes looking down right at me. You smiled a weak smile to say good morning, and I simply smiled back in reply, because no words were needed.

I returned to my task at hand, leaving a trail of kisses around your breasts, slowly moving back upwards. I held your soft mounds in my hands, massaging them, from time to time giving your nipples the much-needed attention.

I kissed my way upwards to your neck, leaving suction across your bare skin. You arched your back and moaned from the sensation, my soft lips upon your sensitive region. I twiddled your hardening nipples, feeling your heart beat fast against my body.

With my knee, I felt for the region between your legs. In an effort to intensify your arousal, I pressed against you, allowing you to grind your vagina against my thighs. I felt the moistness of your arousal, the wetness spreading across my leg.

I broke away from kissing your neck to admire you once more, observing how you just lay there with expectant eyes, your breasts heaving with each quickened breath of air that rushed through you. Your cheeks were flush, forehead glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Most of all, you looked young and demure, a look I appreciated. Somehow, it felt like I was taking away your virginity, your very first love.

I got up and proceeded to the kitchen, still fully in the nude. Most of my family members don’t wake up till past 9am anyway, and the sky is only just lightening up to the morning sun. I placed a frying pan on the stove and turned on the heat, drizzling a bit of olive oil onto the pan. Breakfast for two, it seems.

You came after me, standing in the doorway, wearing my shirt from the night before. While it may be more of a girlfriend tee than a boyfriend tee, I felt that it still looked cute. Oh how you must have marvelled at how confident I was naked, watching as I hurried around the kitchen. I cracked eggs into two distinct sides of the pan and turned the fire low, letting the eggs slowly cook.

I went over to you, as naked as I was, and hugged you around your waist. I gave you a light peck on your lips, savouring your sweet morning breath. Easily, I lifted you and pushed you against the countertop beside my stove. Well, I guess I can have a little breakfast appetiser. I smiled as I went down on you once more, my hands spreading apart your thighs upon my countertop.

You shut your eyes in anticipation, letting me do what I wanted to do. It felt like you were a willing pet, obedient to my wordless commands. I bent forward, my hair grazing your inner thighs, causing you to sigh breathlessly above me, enjoying the sensation of me between your legs.

I lifted my own shirt high enough to bare your bellybutton, viewing your private mounds and the untamed patch of hair above your lady parts. I placed my cheek against your belly, feeling you tense up beside me, not knowing what I would do next.

The eggs continued to sizzle even as a different form of heat filled the kitchen, the aroma of cooked eggs and your arousal mixed together in one. I kissed downwards and you leaned back, exposing more of your vagina to me, your vulnerability and most treasured possession, one which I owned just overnight.

Your lips were already moist in expectation, your clit poking out a little, screaming for my attention. My tongue went onto your vagina lips, going from one side to the other, licking up and down, up and down, and up and down again. I taste you on my tongue, your sweet innocence, a sweet delight to me.

I feel your breathing get quicker above me, yet I had to distract myself once more. I moved myself to the pan, flipping both omelettes, looking at you all the while. How adorable and lovely you looked, like a little flower sitting upon my kitchen countertop. Your cute eyes staring right at me with longing, longing for me to hold you, to make you mine.

Easily, I flipped both eggs onto plates that I set aside earlier, and I returned to you once more. You tried to hold my face in your hands, as romantically and as sensually as I have held you so many times before that night. I knew, deep within, that the touch of a girl like me would be so much different from all the guys that you have had, their roughness, the selfishness, their need for ego and satisfaction and sex, more often than not leaving us girls unsatisfied.

I held you again, and you leaned onto my shoulder, hugging me tightly like a little girl, as if I would leave at any moment. I smiled, a smile that you could not see, but I felt bliss in that moment. I slithered my hand downwards to your vagina once more, feeling your moist privates.

I slipped my fingers into you, feeling your tender flesh and soft insides. I thought you couldn’t hold me tighter, but you did as I started to move my fingers inside you, swirling and bending my finger in the ‘come here’ sign, massaging your sweet and sensitive spots. You moaned beside me ear, a sound that I have come to get used to during the night of love making.

Faster and faster my fingers went, and then I felt it. Your tightening insides and a warm gush of liquid hitting the palm of my right hand. I felt your body tense up and your weight fell upon me to support, as you lost control of your muscles. You stopped breathing for a moment as you feel the ecstasy flow through you, the first orgasm of the morning.

I left my fingers within you, feeling the spasms come and go inside, till it subsided to a mild throbbing within. I held you at arm’s length and smiled at you, my usual warm smile. I eased you into the wooden chair that sat beside my dining table, allowing you to catch your breath as I served you your breakfast and a cup of warm milk to chase the cold of the night away. Not that it was cold last night though.

Beside the well-done omelettes that were beside you, you look kind of dishevelled, your hair in a mess and your breaths still coming short. Yet you looked at me, your eyes seemingly in a trance, a look of a lost puppy, now found and well-loved. Despite the tiredness of the night and the intensity of the orgasm that I just delivered to you, I feel that you still look beautiful.

Short Story: Its My Pleasure

As we entered the dark house at about 4am in the morning, I cannot help but be amazed at the tidiness of the house. Not an item seemed to be out of place, the cushions on the sofa were set perfectly straight, the floor was sparkingly clean. I felt the smooth marble flooring of your living floor as you guided me into the depths of your house, passing by closed doors.

Your room was just like the rest of the house; neat, tidy, everything arranged almost clinically. You sat me down on your bed and asked if I would like something to drink after the long night. I nodded, and you left for the kitchen, leaving ne to marvel at how your room depicted your meticulousness. You returned with a cup of water for both of us, and I was thankful for the liquid that flowed down my throat, cooling the heat from all the liquor earlier.

You smiled at me, a smile that seemed so warm and natural, and I smiled in return. You stood in front of me and placed your hands on me, kneading my stiff shoulders from dancing all night. I closed my eyes and sighed, allowing your gentle caress to soothe out the ache in my bones.

As you continued to massage my shoulders, I placed the empty cup of water on the desk beside me, moving my now empty hands to hug your waist, feeling the arch of your back. I pulled you in closer, my face now against your stomach. I took a deep breath and breathed in the smell of your perfume, your scent.

With your body closer to mine, I felt you bend downwards, one of your hands moving down my back, reassuring and comforting. Your other hand reached for my head and stroked my long hair, gently patting my head with the palm of your hand. I felt a warm fuzzy feeling within me, a purr building up somewhere deep inside.

I touched your bare arms, feeling your soft and smooth skin. I reached for your back and slipped my hands under your shirt, feeling more of your bare skin, this time also feeling the stiffness of your arched back, the well-toned muscles underneath your skin. I pulled upwards and you lifted your hands off me for a moment, for me to lift your top up and above your shoulders, above your head and then off you. I was faced with a flat stomach that I could be jealous of, and skin that was just as flawless as that on your arms.

You returned your hands to me, bringing my face close to you once more, gently running your hands down the small of my back. I automatically lifted my hands up as you reached for the hem of my top, lifting them off me as I did so to you. I shivered a little at the cool air against my skin, yet I was still warmed by all the alcohol that I took in earlier. I suddenly became very self-conscious, knowing that my figure was not as good as yours.

With one fluid motion, I felt the clasp of my bra release as you placed your hands on me once more, and my breasts fell forward without the support of my bra holding them in. You reached back and undid your own, your breasts spilling forward just like mine. Your nipples were light brown and almost symmetrical, your nipples erect against the cold of the air just like mine are.

I realised that I was holding my breath, appreciative of the beauty in front of me. Your hair was thick yet luscious, flowing around your head and unto your shoulders, stopping just short of your soft mounds. Your breasts were firm and bounced lightly, and they seemed like perfectly shaped globes. Your body was just as well-defined as the rest of you, and you had v-lines that dipped down into your jeans. I have never felt so attracted to someone of the same gender before.

I was greeted by your smile as you moved towards me once more, gently holding my head in your hands, so loving and so tender. I have never experienced this with any man in my prior relationships. Somehow, I felt like you knew my body better I did, holding me in all the right spots as I sat there not knowing what to do with my hands.

I placed my head between your soft breasts and hugged you around the waist, placing my fingers into the hook of your jeans. I pulled them down and revealed your v-line further, lines that disappeared into the pair of lacy thongs that you wore. I never dared to wear something that looked so adult, so feminine. I shuddered to remember that I was only wearing a pair of usual cotton panties underneath me.

You pushed me back onto your queen-sized bed, my body gently laying down at where you must have laid a thousand times before. I felt the depress of the bed as you got on top of me, you lips inches from mine, your light brown and warm eyes staring into my very soul. I was enticed and seduced, a warm fuzzy feeling developing within me that I knew was not because of the alcohol.

With my weight on the bed, you reached below me and pulled my bottoms off, more of my nakedness revealed before you. You did not look down to make me self-conscious, but you placed your hands upon my stomach and moved downwards, ridding me of my cotton panties.

I looked into your eyes as they moved closer, your lips suddenly barely inches away from me. I felt my lips graze against yours, both our lipsticks sticking together for a moment before your lips touched mine, pressing against me softly, gently, very much unlike men who just jammed their faces against my face. Even your kisses were perfect, and it felt like your lips were moulded to fit mine. It was soft and sensual, teasing me, making me want more.

Your hair cascaded around me, your fragrance mixing with my very own. One of your hands held mine, your fingers entwined around, holding me in comfort and security. Your other hand traced my skin, skin that was not as perfect as yours was. Yet in the heat of the moment, my insecurities regarding the many bumps around my body disappeared, and for that moment I felt as pretty as you were.

I never knew touching could make me feel this good. Your fingers moved about my torso, fingertips running across my stomach, upwards and upwards, till I felt them right at the bottom of my feminine mounds. I was still entwined in my kiss with you, your lips now gently nibbling on mine, parting for a moment and going back at them again, as if I was an appetiser in a fine dining restaurant.

Your hands circled my breasts and held them gently, your fingers occasionally drifting across my sensitive nipples. In those moments, I felt the purr within me escape momentarily, and I felt your smile on my lips as these little squeaks of pleasure escaped from my lips. I felt like a child in your hands, a child that was loved and appreciated.

I tried to hold your head as you held mine earlier, but I know my attempts at mimicking you must have been clumsy, as you giggled between kisses. Your hands now moved downwards slowly, and I arched my hips upwards, my lower body craving for your touch, ready to me made yours. How I willed for your hands to move faster, for your mouth to press hard against me, your tongue to ravage my mouth. Yet you were still soft and gentle, slowly increasing my desire for you, my lust.

I felt your hand above my pubis mon, circling the few strands of unkempt pubic hair that were untamed. I felt warm between my legs, and I wanted to badly to touch myself, release myself of the sexual stress that was building up deep within me. You broke away from the kiss, staring into my puppy eyes for a moment, admiring how desperate I must have looked.

You grabbed both my hands and held them above me, pinning them own with your left. Then again, you moved your head towards me, but this time going lower than my lips. I felt your soft hair on my chest as you descended upon me, your mouth against the nape of my neck. I could barely catch the purr as it came on the way out, my mouth opening with an O and my eyes shut, enjoying your soft lips against my neck.

Your free hand moved between my legs, gently stroking my thighs upwards and upwards, and moving on to the other thigh before it reached the top. Every fibre of me felt like I was like that of a drawn bowstring, ready to be released at any moment. I swear, in that moment I could feel the moisture of my sex slowly oozing out of me, a trickle of fluid flowing from the folds of my vagina down towards the crevice of my ass.

Yet you did not relent in teasing me, your mouth moving downwards towards my breast. As you took my nipple deep inside your mouth, I felt like a jolt of electricity run through me, and I was very sure that I could not catch the moan that now freely escaped my lips. As I arched my back, I could feel some of the stress within me being released. My body tensed up and let go, my first orgasm of the night ripping through me like a bullet. I shuddered as pleasure rocked my body, yet you continued to kiss me around my nipples. I did not know I could even cum without touching myself between my legs.

I felt myself panting as the last reveries of orgasm left me, and I was sure that you knew I came. You lifted your head off me as you smiled at me, a smile that was reassuring, a smile that knew that in that moment, I was already yours.

You released my hands and laid against me, watching each breath of mine, your fingers playfully twiddling with my pubic hair above my feminine parts. I placed my arms around you and hugged, and it was indeed a different feeling, hugging another girl like myself.

You leaned your head against my breast, possibly listening to my heart that beat like a sledgehammer, my breath that came in short gasps. The aftermath of the orgasm still rocked through me, and I was dizzy from the pleasure. I even felt like there was a sweet taste on my lips, a taste that I could not describe.

As your hand cupped my mound, I knew my night was far from ending. I wanted to tell you that I was tired, that you can stop, that that was the best orgasm of my life already. Yet, a part of me wanted more, that desired still the need to be filled, and so the whole of me laid there, waiting.

You placed your middle finger against my folds, and I finally realised how wet I was, my entrance entirely soaked through with my stickiness. I felt your finger slowly parting my lips, lips that parted easily due to my arousal. My wetness invited you in, allowing you to slip into my warm flesh.

With a tired gasp, I moaned is you entered me, your finger that was not as thick as a penis, yet it felt more fulfilling, filled with the emotion of trust and security, of comfort and of love. I knew I could crave this feeling more than the filing any penis could grant.

Easily, your slipped another finger into me, feeling my depths and wetness. I gasp as your fingers started to move. I was too tired to control the sounds that came from within me naturally. I simply held on to you as I parted my legs wider in the hopes of feeling you explore me deeper.

Your fingers felt better than my own, slipping in and out of me so naturally, as if it was your own vagina that you were fingering. Between each thrust, I turned to see you watching me as you drew me nearer to my second orgasm, eyes twinkling with playful pleasure, warm, brown eyes that captivated me.

I hugged you closer as I felt my body tense once more, and as I released, I clamped my thighs around your hand, willing you to stop as my second orgasm overtook my senses. Nevertheless, you did not stop, but continued to move your fingers against me, pressing your thumb against my swollen clit and your fingers pressing against what I knew was my g-spot, a spot I never knew existed.

Despite the beautiful orgasm I felt earlier, I never knew it could feel even better. I closed my eyes as the second orgasm started to rock me, your fingers moving about deep within me. Your mouth found mine as I moaned, or maybe screamed, my shrill voice covered with your mouth. Your tongue pushed between my lips, twisting and turning within my mouth as your fingers now moved deep within me.

With that, I felt myself lose control of my body as another orgasm rode upon my second orgasm, pleasure combined with pleasure, my mind blank and my body totally yours, under your control. I felt a gush of warm liquid exit the folds of my vagina, wetting my thighs that were still shut around your fingers, experiencing my first ever squirting experience.

I never knew a pleasure like this, a pleasure I could get drunk on, get addicted on. I broke away from our kiss and opened my eyes as I felt my body subside from the orgasm. I took in the beauty of your face, your hair falling upon me, your warm brown eyes. It was like I was experiencing love all over again. I felt my consciousness fading away, tiredness taking over, and your face was the last thing I recall as I blacked out.

Short Story: Graduation Celebration Dinner

It was supposed to be a casual weekend dinner. Since my niece recently graduated from university a couple of weeks back, the family wanted to get together for a short dinner together. Not that we had gatherings usually, since everyone was always busy with work and their own lives.

Since my house was the biggest, we all agreed on using my house for the dinner together. Despite it being a celebratory dinner for her graduation, my niece offered to cook for all of us. I was thankful for her offer, since I did not know how to cook myself, and I did not want to splurge money on ordering food for the whole family.

I watched from the kitchen door as she went about preparing the food for the dinner that we were going to have later. The rest of the family were still busy with their weekend plans, so both my niece and I had the house to ourselves.

Seeing her grow up over the years, my niece developed a rather nice figure for herself. From what I saw on social media, she joined some dance team while in university, toning her already slender figure and womanly features. She often wore well-fitting clothes in her outfit photos, clothes that highlighted her slim waist, her slender legs and of course, the two beautiful breasts of hers.

I was already married, but my wife never had the body my niece has right now. More often than not, my niece’s photos were the source of my masturbation material, and sometimes, I imagined that she was the one I was making love to when I was having sex with my wife. To see her in front of my, in my kitchen, was already like a wet dream come true.

I continued to observe as my niece semi-danced about the kitchen, chopping vegetables and slicing meat with grace that I never imagined possible from cooking. The way she prepared the dishes seemed like an artform itself. My focus was not on the food, but from the times she swirled about, her skirt rising just a little, revealing a little more flesh. When she bent over, my eyes travelled downwards from her neck downwards to her chest, or rather, the cavity that formed between her well-developed breasts.

“Uncle, would you like to help?” I was shaken out from my daze as my niece called me over, asking me to sit in front of her and help slice some cloves of garlic for later.

As she bent forward to show me how it should be done, my eyes moved over from the chopping board to her, my eyes between the gap created by her tank top as she leant over. With me in a sitting position right in front of her, I could look all the way down, see her milky breasts heaving with each breath that she took, covered by her bra. I could see further, down her torso and see her slender skin about her waist, unblemished by stretchmarks or age.

If my niece had caught me staring, she did not care to give anything away, not even a falter in her instructions and no effort to hide the excellent view from me. She just smiled at me as she left the garlic to me to mince.

Then, she returned to the stove, her back towards me now. I chopped the garlic as she instructed, mincing them into small bits for frying. Between each chop, I looked up towards my niece, observing how her ass swayed with each movement she made.

From time to time, she would turn around and give me one of those sweet smiles of hers, making sure that I was still chopping the garlic. With my utensil drawer below the stove, she also bent down often to retrieve the wok and utensils, her skirt rising each time she did so. My eyes widened as she bent over, more skin being revealed then what I saw earlier. Her thighs were as fair as the rest of her, and I sweat I could almost see the bottom of her underwear if she bent over any more.

Once done with the garlic, I passed it to her and sat there like a dimwit, not knowing how else I could help out in the kitchen. I just sat there, watching as my niece continued to work about the kitchen.

Then, she proceeded to go behind me to another set of drawers that was behind me, instructing me to look after the stove while she was preparing dishes behind. I stared at the fire, thinking about the beauty behind me, how close she was. I swear, I could almost smell her feminine scent with her within such proximity to me.

Then, without warning, I felt her hands upon my shoulders, and she leaned her weight onto my back. I opened my mouth in shock, but no words came out. I felt her as she leaned forward, her hair draped over one of my shoulders, her mouth beside my ear, her sweet breath falling gently on my cheek.

“Uncle, did you like the view I gave you earlier?” I felt her hands move forward, travelling down my body slowly and surely. Slender hands tracing down the front of my shirt, till it reached the waistband of my shorts. I felt her lips on my ears, each warm breath of her seemingly warmer than the warmth of the kitchen.

My niece moved her hands to my groin, placing her hands lightly over my hardening member. She moved her lips downwards as well, kissing my neck in such a way as my wife never did so. It felt pleasurable, her soft lips upon the back of my neck. I did not know that kisses on my neck could feel so good.

I felt her breasts on my shoulders, her hands replacing themselves on my inner thighs, spreading them apart, as if I was a girl. Yet, somehow it felt good as she moved her hands on sensitive spots that I never imagined, spots that my wife never found despite us being together for so long. It felt like my niece was an expert, knowing where would turn me on.

My cock strained against my tight underwear, hard like I have never felt so before for a long while. As my niece moved her hands back to cup my groin, I could feel precum oozing out of my manhood, wetting the front of my underwear. I never knew I could be wet as well.

I groaned as she continued to tease me through my clothes, her mouth delivering pleasure through light, gentle kisses on my neck.

Not being able to hold off any longer, I took off my shirt, standing up in the process. I looked down at myself, my cock forming a large bulge in front of my shorts. I turned around to face me niece, who had a sheepish grin upon her face, her mouth gently sucking on her index finger innocently.

I took off my shorts and underwear in one smooth action, revealing my full cock to my young niece. I have never seen it so swollen, or so angrily purple before, my cock standing full at attention. Yet my niece did not falter, nor seemed shocked that her uncle just stripped before her.

Not missing a beat, she knelt down before me and took my cock into her mouth. I have never received a blowjob from my wife, save my birthdays, and those blowjobs were nothing compared to how my niece was sucking me off right now.

Her tongue moved all about the head of my member, her lips fully wrapped around my rod of flesh. I placed my hands upon her head, feeling my hands full of her soft hair, not dry and thick like my wife’s. I felt as her fingers moved all over my balls, cupping them and gently kneading them with her fingers. It really felt like I was in heaven, and it seemed like she wanted to milk me dry.

I felt uncontrollable pleasure as her tongue moved below my cock head, her hands stroking whatever that was left of my cock outside her mouth. She stroked me hard and fast, fast in a way that I could not control the pleasure.

Soon enough, I felt the unmistakable pleasure as the first wave of orgasm hit me, my warm semen shooting out into her mouth, mixed with her saliva. I looked down at her as she wrapped her lips firmly around my cock, not moving on inch, taking each drop of my semen into her mouth. Her hands continued to stroke me and knead my sack, and I continued to cum, each spurt taken by her without a complain.

As the ravages of my orgasm left me, my niece loosened her mouth about my cock and kept them closed. Grabbing an empty bowl from the table, she spit out my cum, mixed with her saliva, into the bowl.

My cock still stood hard, I was quite surprised that it did not grow flaccid after my explosive orgasm.

Without a word, my niece lifted herself up in one fluid motion and sat on the set of drawers behind her. She sat there and reached out, her hands grabbing me by my shoulders. She pulled me towards herself and slid her hands down to my hands, where she motioned for me to reach under her skirt.

Lifting her skirt up, I was surprised to find her vagina cleanly shaven, her privates totally bare under her skirt. My cock throbbed with excitement as I realised what she wanted me to do next.

I placed my cock at her entrance, my cock seemingly a giant in front of her tiny slit. I could see her slit glistening with her juices, slowly being joined by my own mixture of fluids on my cock head. I eased my cock between the folds of her skin, sliding myself gently into her warmth.

I felt her flesh slowly envelope me into its embrace, the tight young cunt slowly gulping me into its tight crevice. It felt like she was sucking me in slowly and gently, taking my cock deep inside her. It felt like a totally new experience from the sex I am accustomed to with my wife. In fact, after this I was sure that sex with my wife will never feel the same ever again.

My hips made contact with her, and she moaned with a sigh of relief as I was all the way inside her, filling her young pussy up within. I felt like I was having my first sex all over again, and my niece gave me a look as if she was experiencing the best feeling in her life.

I started to thrust into her, stroke after stroke, slowly picking up speed. I hear the wet sound of our bodies hitting against one another, my bare shaft slick with her juices, without the interference of a condom between the both of us.

My cock felt sensitive, having cum before, and the sensitivity made me feel weak in the knees, like it was too much to handle. I have never continued having sex after having orgasmed, but this girl was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I was sure I could not miss.

My cock went deep inside her and she grabbed me by my shoulders, pulling me in after each time I pulled out. I slammed my hips into her with force, exploring her depths, seeing how far my cock can go within her.

Soon enough, I felt another wave of orgasm about to hit. As if on cue, my niece pulled me in and gave me a kiss, a kiss unlike any of those given by my wife before, even at the peak of our passionate moments. I felt her tongue rape the caverns of my mouth, swirling inside me like a whirlwind.

With my lips taken by her, I could not utter a warning as I feel the familiar warm liquid rush through my cock, filling my niece up deep within. I felt the warm fluid gush out, each thrust now pushing a mixture of liquids out of my niece and onto me. I felt the gooey substance stick to my pubic hair, get onto my ballsack.

As the last waves of orgasm left me, I felt myself stumble backwards onto the table behind me, my now flaccid cock flopping out of my niece with a plop sound. With my knees weak, I felt myself slide down to the floor, my old body fatigued from the intense sex that I just experienced.

My eyelids fluttered and I felt sleep taking me as I sat on the floor. Before I went to sleep, I swear I saw my niece gathering up the fluids that were now leaking out of her, and slowly trickling each drop carefully into the bowl that she spit into earlier.

.

.

.

Moments later, I woke up to the sound of people talking right outside the kitchen. I awoke with a start, realising that I was still naked on the floor, my nudity on display for all to see. I panicked as I knew that I could not leave the kitchen without anyone noticing.

To my surprise, I found a stack of clothes, neatly stacked, right beside me. “For you, my dear uncle.” Flipping through the clothes, I found no underwear. Urgh. My cheeky niece. Nevertheless, I heaved a sigh of relief as I put them on, thanking my niece mentally in the process.

I exited the kitchen and greeted my family, my niece already seated at the table. She smiled at me her usual innocent smile and came over, guiding me to my seat. As I sat down, her hands went all over my inner thigh, grabbing my cock through the fabric of my pants. I jumped a little, the contact sensitive and my cock, for the first time, painfully sore from sex.

My niece only gave me a smile and presented me with a dish of my own, telling my family that it’s a way of saying thanks given that I helped out in the kitchen with her today. Revealing her dish, it appeared to be fried fish with salted egg yolk sauce, to the jealousy of my other relatives at the table.

Was it really salted egg yolk sauce? I swear the sauce smells just like my niece… And also of me.

Welcome Back

Hello again all,

A warm hello to my old and loyal followers, and an equally warm welcome to all my new followers reading my blog. I haven’t been writing for a while, which explains why I decided to post 3 stories before writing something for myself. I feel like I owe some long overdue stories to those who have been eagerly waiting for me to come back.

For those who have met for for the first time, I am currently a graduate from a local university. I like to cook, bake, read and watch drama, and of course, writing erotica. In reality, I am a very quiet individual, someone who blends into the background, someone that you probably will never notice.

In today’s post, I shall answer some frequently asked questions that I have encountered so far since my return:

1. Hi.
Yes. Hello.

2. Are you dtf / send nudes / rate my dick (with attached photo - which I shall not upload to ruin your eyes) / meetup / FwB / Sexting
Nope.

3. How do I contact you?
You may contact me through my email at jezebel.ira@gmail.com. I prefer not to use instant messaging apps unless I’m super comfortable with you. For those who are new to writing emails, take note that e-mail writing format is different from Whatsapp writing format. Please include in your email:
- Polite greetings
- Introduction
- Purpose of emailing me (Your purpose should not be a subset of Q2)
- A proper sign off
Only then will I reply you! Otherwise I don’t know why my email always ends up being redirected by my hand to a folder that I created called “Spam Inbox from Weird People”.

4. Are your stories real?
Just like most novels out there, stories are often written with some basis of reality, with a dose of the author added into its inky pages. So yes, the stories can be real, but only to some extent. Which also means, yes, the stories are fake, and also to some extent. That’s what fantasy is about isn’t it? Realistic dreams.

5. Where do I get my inspiration from?
Imagination.

6. Appreciation messages
Thank you for your kind words! I will take note all your recommendations and feedback as well. Do continue to follow for more stories!

Lots of love,
Jezebel

Jezebel’s Diary 11: Reading

This is a story of a girl. A wallflower, someone who did not draw too much attention to herself. Someone who sat quietly in class while the boys threw paper balls around the classroom, while girls gossiped about the latest couple in school. This comes from a time, when smartphones had yet to be released and when MSN messenger was the go-to platform for ‘project meetings’.

This girl was a plain Jane, so we shall call her Jane in this story. Just an average girl in an average secondary school. Her grades were decent, but not good enough that it drew attention. She had no interesting hobbies, nothing on her that people could gossip about. In fact, the most interesting thing about her was that she was a bookworm, never to be seen around school without a storybook in her hand that was thicker than any of her textbooks.

Once the school bell rang, Jane was always one of the first students out of school, disappearing right under her classmates’ noses. No one notices her, not that anyone bothered to anyway. Jane rushed to the bus stop, and always manages to grab a bus which was not infected with students who just ended school.

She makes her way to the library, a home away from home. She had one of those stepdads who abused her and her sister frequently, so Jane spent as much time as possible at the library, claiming to be studying. Yet, her real reason to be here was to be with her friends, her fictional friends from lands far away, where snow, floods and earthquakes were common, where magic flowed in people’s veins.

Being in secondary school, no one bats an eyelid as Jane heads up to the adult section, where there were no kids screaming and where there were thicker books that appealed more to her. Jane picks up a new novel today, not sure of whatever she was reading, not sure who she will be meeting today.

Sitting down in a quiet corner of her choosing, Jane opens up her book and allows the words to welcome her into its ink-based world. She opens this book without realising that this book will change who she is, a book that will create someone new within her.

Being a book catered to the older crowd, Jane was still unaware of the themes these books carried within, themes that she was not ready for. Today, that book was one such book. A book set in Ancient Greece, set in the midst of a war.

Jane continued to read word after word, the printed words forming images in her mind like that of a movie. She watched as characters were portrayed sexually, when the heroine herself was raped, where men revealed their deepest and darkest sexual fantasies.

“… The general stood facing the captured princess and king, both of whom were held in chains underneath the deepest dungeon that their castle had, a castle that they once called home.”

It was as if Jane was with them, feeling the cold of the dungeon against her skin, seeing the princess in her ragged clothes and the king with his frayed beard.

“Giving an evil smile, the general once again asked the king to beg for mercy, to surrender his castle and ask his troops to lay down their arms against the rebel forces. The king lay silent, not wanting to break the morale of his men, loyal men fighting for freedom, fighting for their homes.

The general shook his head, annoyed by the king’s stubbornness. He walked over to the princess in chains, noting how beautiful she was, even with her clothes in such a disarray. In fact, the dirt and grime in the dungeon only served to let her beauty stand out even more.

Taking his spear, he prodded it under her chin, lifting up her head to observe his beauty for himself.”

Jane felt her chin being tilted upward by the words, and she felt for herself the point of the spear just above her throat.

“She was a beauty indeed. The tales did not lie. With one swift stroke, the general brought his blade down the front of whatever remained of the princess’s garments, her bare skin revealed to the general, skin untouched by the eyes of mere men.

The king expressed an expression of shock, looking away from his daughter’s state of undress. The princess closed her eyes, ashamed of her nakedness. The general only laughed, his eyes aflame with evil intentions.”

Jane felt for herself the state of the princess’s undress despite still having her uniform on. She traced a finger down the front of her clothes, as if a blade was being drawn down the centre of her torso. She tried to feel for herself what the princess would have felt, naked before at least two men in a dark dungeon, only lit by torches.

“The general grabbed the princess by her throat, pulling her upright till she stood on tiptoes, her eyes still closed in defiance, defying the inevitable. With his other free hand, her brought down his fingers upon her face of beauty with a loud and audible slap, one that echoed through the dungeons.

The princess only gasped from the pain, while her father stay knelt upon the cold stone, his body shaking with anger and tears flowing from his eyes. The general only slapped her once more, feeling triumphant at the helplessness of the royal family before him.”

It was as if Jane was being slapped herself, having been beaten by her stepdad before. Yet, she was aware of the nakedness of the princess, and she felt like she herself was being abused and humiliated, right before her very own father. She felt a tingle down her bare skin, and a flush rushed to her cheeks, reddened as if she was really slapped.

“A full-grown man, the general was well-aware of the weaknesses of the human body. If force could not break her, perhaps pleasure would. With force, he tore apart whatever remaining cloth there was on the princess’s body, allowing her to stand fully naked in front of her father.

The princess stood shivering from the cold, shaking from the pain dealt to her cheeks. She felt her nipples harden with the cold air upon her bare breasts, sore and erect with blood. The general only laughed at her helplessness, and softly drew his fingers over her naked chest.”

Jane felt as if she herself was molested. Nipples that she never felt before were suddenly very sensitive to her, pushing outwards from her chest. In the cold of the library, she felt the soft fabric of her training bra touch against her nipples, the general himself was there, touching her young body.

“He continued to touch her, totally ignoring the kneeling king barely an arm’s length away. He dragged his fingers across her mounds of flesh gently, feeling the smooth skin under his callused fingers. He observed as the princess seemed to relax a little, yet she still pursed her lips, maintaining silence. Without warning, the general gave the princess’s nipples a pinch, causing her to give out a little cry of pain at the sudden pressure upon her already sensitive nipples.”

Jane jumped a little at the sudden development, moving her hands upwards to cover her breasts on instinct. This, as she would later know, was not a good move to make. Her hand’s pressure on her breast also felt like something new to her, and thankfully she managed to bite down upon her lips just in time to muffle her moan into a squeak. This feeling was new to her, unexplored, unknown.

One would think nothing of this young girl in a school uniform, just someone who was really absorbed into the thick novel she was currently reading, barely able to contain her excitement. Little did they know.

“The general traced his hands all over the naked princess, each stroke getting lower and lower…”

Jane moved her fingers down, slowly touching herself, her other hand holding the book firmly, turning the page when necessary.

“He came to a rest before her navel, his hands inches above her naturally grown public hair, hair that was just as lush as the hair upon her royal head. He lifted his fingers up and bent down to see her better, and to get a better view of her lower body. He continued his gentle strokes once more, starting from her knees upwards…”

And Jane followed, placing her free hand upon her knee, gently.

“He stroked upwards, gently moving his old hand along her smooth inner thigh.”

And Jane also moved her hands up, up her school skirt. She felt a warm flush, her skin more sensitive than it should be. It felt forbidden, wrong, yet it felt good.

“He reached her private region, which seemed to be oozing a different sort of heat compared to the rest of the body. Being a full-grown man accustomed to lots of sexual pleasures, he could distinctly smell the scent of arousal in the air in the deep, dark dungeon. The princess moaned – the first audible sound she made – in pleasure, sensing feelings she never experienced before.”

Jane moved upwards to cup the mound of her young pussy, feeling warm between her legs. Her skirt was hitched up by her arm, but no one was around to see. She felt the slight moisture upon her privates, and somehow she knew where would feel good. She moved her hands in circles below herself, imagining herself being touched instead.

“The general then stroked her privates, running a finger along her thin, unused clit, untouched by any man.”

Jane shifted her panties to the side to gain access to her privates, her bare hands a different feeling altogether from being touched over her panties. She groaned a little moan as she stroked her fingers up and down upon her slit, feeling the new sensation of wetness upon her fingers.

“The princess continued to moan despite being fondled by her captor, her body a slave to her own erotic desires.”

Without care for her surroundings – not that she needed to – Jane continued to stroke herself, feeling her first touch of her engorged and aroused clit. Knowing how it felt exceptionally good there, she continued to touch herself there, running circles around her little button.

“Then all of a sudden the general tilted his finger and plunged it deep inside her. The lubrication of her arousal allowed his finger for easy entry, and she did not feel the pain, only pleasure as she was fingered by the kingdom’s sworn enemy right in front of her father.”

Jane tried for herself, lowering her wet finger slowly to the entrance that was inviting her. It was easy to find, the source of the wetness, the source of the womanly warmth between her legs. She eased her own fingers deep into herself, stifling a moan as she felt herself being filled up by her fingers.

She started to discover herself, feeling for herself the soft, sensitive spots deep within her. She continued to stroke, feeling the pleasure build upon pleasure created by an earlier stroke, pleasure building up for some sort of great release.

“The general wiggled his fingers deep inside his captive princess, his fingers exploring her unexplored caverns, her untouched innocence. He was forceful yet gentle at the same time, and with each time he plunged his finger deep inside her again, the princess moaned, her cries of pleasure drowning out the sobs of her father just barely metres away.”

And then Jane felt it, the first wave of unexplainable pleasure and release. Underneath her school skirt and with her fingers knuckle deep within her, her pussy gave out a spasm as the first wave of orgasm hit her, then another and another was the words on the book rolled into an image of pleasure on her imagination.

She was unaware if she actually let out a moan, but she was shaking from the overbearing pleasure that wrecked her over and over again, her knees pressed together and her fingers wet inside her, feeling every time her young vagina clenched its soft muscles around her.

When she finally did recover from her climax, Jane could feel each pump of blood that flowed through her, and she felt light-headed and faint. She felt her vagina still throbbing, the vestiges of her first orgasm leaving her.

Her breath came in quick breaths, and she slowly placed her panties back to where they below, and she cleaned her wet fingers upon her school skirt.

Jane shut the book she held, marking where she stopped reading and where pleasure took over. Walking to the book borrowing machine, she could feel her moist underwear between her legs, and a slight stickiness of her bodily fluids upon her inner thigh.

She scanned the book, and carried the book in her hands, leaving the library with no one taking a look at her, just like the way she entered, just like the way she went everywhere else.

And that, is the story of how a plain Jane found her first orgasm, and many more to come, with a book – A book with a heroine named Jezebel.