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When Finally We Meet
Dear John:
This is the last e-mail you will receive from me before we meet. You had read my previous story, "Visit to an adult store," in which I had my first gay experience with a much older and stronger man and was forced to wear a sexy, off-the-shoulder, bare-midriff harem outfit while he ravished me.
Over the last several months, you and I have gotten so close through all our e-mailing back and forth. I love the fact that you are considerably older than my 22 years and bigger than my 5-7, 147-pound frame. You describe yourself as masculine and aggressive. That turns me on, as does you writing that you have a beard and moustache.
I've confided in you that with my tiny waist, curvy torso, feminine facial features and long, straight blond hair that I have been crossdressing almost exclusively for the last five months.
I have been taking female hormones, and have begun to develop soft, small breasts.
But your most-recent e-mail has led me to believe that I may have unintentionally given you the wrong impression about myself. You described what you wanted to do to me, and you seemed almost arrogant.
I'm not a notch on anyone's belt. I'm not an easy conquest. (I just stopped typing this, stood up and looked at myself in my off-the-shoulder nightgown in my full-length mirror. With my hair hanging straight down over one eye like Veronica Lake and my slim figure, I don't think any man could resist me right now. I am soft, yet firm and curvy. I am a knockout.)
I am also a lady.
If you want me, you're going to have to earn me, darling.
First, we would arrange for you to meet me one late afternoon at my apartment. You've never told me your real name, preferring to call yourself John Smith. That's fine with me. The mystery is intriguing. You would, of course, be very excited at the prospect of making love to me. Knowing how thoughtful you are, I am not surprised when I see that you have brought me flowers. But when you knock and I open the door, you are surprised to see that I am not wearing a sexy dress or penoir.
I am wearing a high school cheerleader's outfit. My blond hair is in pigtails. The only bare things are my arms, a little bit of my tiny waist and my trim, shapely legs, as my plaid skirt only comes down to mid-thigh.
"Robin?" you ask.
"No, silly." "I answer. "I'm Robbi, Robin's younger brother. Are you Mr. Smith? Robin told me you'd be coming. She asked me to keep you company until she got home. Are those flowers for Robin? She's going to love them. Please, Mr. Smith, come in and sit down while I put these in water."
You look puzzled as you come into my neat, one-bedroom apartment. I ask if I can get you anything, but you say no and sit down on the living room couch. The TV is showing VH1. Out of the corner of my eye, I see you studying me while I put the flowers into a vase. My movements are so youthfully feminine that if I hadn't told you I was Robin's brother, you would definitely think I was a young girl.
I sit down next to you on the couch with my knees underneath me. I smell and look fresh and look you right in your eyes as we chat about this and that. Your trip to see Robin. The weather. My high school. How sometimes -- like today -- I stop by my brother's apartment on my way home from school. I'm sitting a good foot away from you. You notice my blue eyes and how my trim upper body almost imperceptively shimmies while I talk and how the edges of my pig tails rest on my bare, young shoulders.
I ask you if you work out, and you ask me why I asked. I say that you seem to be in very good shape for your age. Then, realizing I had said something that could hurt your feelings, I bring both of my hands to my mouth and my eyes get very wide. I say I'm very sorry. I didn't mean it that way.
I reach out and touch your bicep, and you smile and make a muscle for me.
"My," I say. "You are awfully strong. I'm sure you must be stronger than the boys at my school."
I adjust my body so my legs are no longer under me. I'm not certain, but I think I spot you sneaking a glance at my thighs as I just happen to sit a bit closer to you. When I lean back on the couch, your left arm is behind me. You're very nonchalant as your fingertips begin to play with my bare shoulder.
My voice gets a bit nervous as I ask whether you like VH1. You say it's all right, but not your favorite.
"You know," I say shyly, "Robin has some tapes she won't let me see because she says I'm too young. But I guess that since I'm here with an adult, we could probably watch one."
You nod your approval, and I get up to fetch a tape and put it into the VCR. I come back to the couch and kind of snuggle up against you as the tape begins to show an older man and a young man making love.
"Do you like that?" you whisper in my ear as your arm again goes around my shoulders.
My blue eyes are wide and innocent as I stare, mesmerized, at the TV screen. The older man is sucking the youngster's dick while ramming two fingers up his rectum. The boy is in ecstasy, moaning and grabbing the man's gray, balding hair with both hands.
"Do people really do that?" I ask with a hoarse whisper.
Your hand applies more pressure to my shoulder, drawing me toward you. Then, you take my face in both your hands, tilt your head and place your lips on mine. I move slightly to withdraw, but you hold me fast. For a moment, my lithe body moves into yours and you can almost feel my lips start to open.
Then, suddenly I tear my mouth from yours and my trim body from your grasp. I quickly rise, gasping.
"Mr. Smith, no!" I say, my little chest heaving. "I'm only in high school. Why ... you're old enough to be my father."
You stand and put one arm around my tiny waist and the other around my back. As you crush me to you, my arms are helplessly on either side of my head.
"Mr. Smith, please ... "
I struggle, leaning away from you, but your strong arms hold me fast. You kiss me and I begin to melt. My arms slowly go around your neck. Our mouths open, my upper lip feels your moustache, and you suck my tongue into your mouth. Your tongue then invades my sweet mouth, and I moan as your hands begin to explore my tight, undulating body.
Then, you strongly grab my ass.
"NO!" I shout. Once again I tear myself away from you. I turn my back and I begin to cry. "Mr. Smith," I sob, my slender body trembling in the cheerleader outfit. "I'm just in high school, and you're a grown man."
"But you're so beautiful," you say as your right hand goes around my body. I can feel your erection on my back. Your left hand grabs one of my pigtails and tilts my head to the side. Your mouth goes to the opposite side to my bare neck and nuzzles it. I can feel your moustache and beard on my delicate skin.
"You know you want it," you say confidently.
I struggle, but I begin to weaken. Your mouth at the base of my neck is making me swoon. You turn me around. Your face is arrogant, overpowering. My will to resist is buckling, but then you take my dainty right hand and place it on your crotch.
"NO!" I shout, and this time you can tell I mean it. I break away from you, run to the door and open it.
"Get out!" My voice is low as I try to compose myself, my chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. "Come back in an hour. Robin will be home by then."
You look puzzled, but you walk toward the door.
"Don't tell Robin I let you kiss me," I say as I slowly regain my composure. "She likes you, and I don't want her feelings hurt."
You nod, look at me, a bit disheveled, yet so beautiful in my cheerleader outfit, and leave the apartment, wondering what to do for the next hour.
The next 60 minutes seem to crawl by for you. You drive off and find a McDonald's. You sit with a cup of coffee and stare into space, trying to figure out what had just occurred. It's almost dinnertime, so the McDonald's is fairly crowded. Lots of kids, moms and dads and a few businessman types who are probably padding their expense accounts with big meal charges while actually eating a Big Mac.
Your eyes wander aimlessly until someone catches your attention ordering at the counter. She's wearing a bathing suit top with the straps around her neck. Her little white shorts begin low on her trim hips. Her very-thin, curvacious torso seems to go on forever. Her straight, thick blond hair hangs halfway down her bare back. Her perfect posture with her shoulders back complements her toned, yet soft arms. Her legs go all ... the way ... to the floor with her feet in a sexy high-heeled clog. You aren't the only one to notice her. Every man in the place -- including the dads -- has his eyes on her. You wonder if her face is as beautiful as her body, but you can't see it. She orders only a milk shake, and as she turns to leave the restaurant, you catch a glimpse of her face.
Her features are soft, almost delicate, very lovely ... and somewhat familiar. If you didn't know better, you would think it was Robbi. Yet, this person was older, certainly by at least a few years. Robbi was a girl. This was a woman.
Suddenly, she was gone, out the door. A couple of businessmen at another table smile and raise their eyebrows at each other as if to say, "Wow! Wasn't she something."
You look at your watch. You still have 25 minutes to wait.
The minutes creak by until it is finally time for you to return to my apartment.
You knock on my door, it opens, and before you stands the "woman" from McDonald's. I'm still wearing the shorts but have changed out of the bathing suit top and into a cut-off T-shirt. It's cut almost halter close to my neck. My arms are bare except for my long hair cascading over them and reaching down over much of my long, bare torso.
"Robin?" you say tentatively.
I smile, take both your hands in mine and bring you into the apartment. "Of course," I say, "and you just have to be John."
I reach up and kiss your bearded cheek, then take one hand and lead you over to the living room. You notice how small my hand is in yours and how good my subtle perfume smells.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived," I say. "I hope Robbi kept you entertained?"
You mutter something about him being very entertaining. You don't know what's going on. Is this the same person? Can it be?
"I only missed you by about 10 minutes," I say. "Robbi said you had an errand to run and would be back. He seemed kind of upset about something, so I went out and bought him a milk shake before he went home to our parents' house. It's hard to figure him out sometimes. Oh, by the way, thank you for the lovely flowers. That was very sweet of you."
I reach up and put my perfect arms around your neck and kiss you. Your hands go to either side of my tiny waist. I break the kiss momentarily.
"I've been wanting to do that, darling, ever since your first e-mail," I say. My arms are still around your neck, my T-shirt riding up my curvy torso. "I wanted to be all dressed up for you when you came here. I hope you're not too disappointed."
"Disappointed?" you say incredulously. "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen!"
I sigh and reward you with the most tender kiss of your life. You've never felt lips so soft, yet so passionate. This is not a normal kiss. This is a meeting of two souls -- one needing to dominate and the other needing to be dominated.
Up on my toes with my arms around your neck I surrender my flesh for you to despoil. When your hands grasp my bare sides and caress me, my body reacts almost involuntarily. It's the same everywhere you touch me, little jolts that send my lips harder into you as my moans are muffled by your passion. Your mouth and fingers can't get enough of me. As for me, I'm thinking that my body has been created just to give you pleasure. My soft, little breasts can feel how hard your chest is through our clothes. I'm so glad I'm pretty and you find me attractive.
You hesitate a moment, remembering what happened with "Robbi," then you grab my ass cheeks. To your delight, I moan and open my mouth to kiss you in abject surrender to your strength and overpowering will.
Our minds are both swimming. I can feel the hardness of your trapped penis as your right hand on my butt grinds me into you. As I lean back, your left hand plays with my hair. Finally, you break our kiss and move to lift my shirt and nibble on my nipples.
"Wait," I say, moving away from you. My little chest is heaving and my arms are palms-out with my elbows at my sides. You've never seen anyone you've wanted more.
"We're going out," I say with an impish grin. "You're going to take me out to dinner and dancing."
You stutter some words of protest, but it's too late. I duck into the bedroom and you hear the door lock from the inside.
You are very frustrated, and don't I know it. I'm terribly turned on, too, but I don't want to surrender to you too soon. You are too special to me. I lean my back against my side of the door.
"John, darling?"
"Yes," you reply.
"Do you want me?"
You reply that you do.
"Well ... you can't have me, at least not yet. You're very overpowering and I love how you kiss me, but I think we should get to know each other. Let's go out to dinner so we can talk, OK, darling?"
You say, all right.
"John, I'll just be a few minutes," I say. "I want to make myself beautiful for you. Why don't you watch some TV, and I'll be right out."
You hear the shower spraying and reluctantly walk over to the couch, sit down and turn on the TV. The tape you were watching with Robbi is still in the VCR, but when you turn it on you notice it has been rewound. The young man is a student and the older man his professor who tells him there is only one way he's going to pass the course. The boy has short, dark hair and is very thin, while the professor in a three-piece suit is sturdy-looking with a ruddy complexion. The boy stands, mortified, with his hands clenched at his sides while the professor unbuttons the boy's shirt and removes it ... ever so slowly ... over his thin shoulders. The older man hynotizingly looks the boy in the eyes and rubs his fingertips over the boy's sensitive nipples. Then, he orders the boy to remove his pants and underwear.
With the boy naked and ashamed in front of his fully clothed professor, the older man slowly approaches and rubs his hands lightly over the boy's chest and arms. He finally puts his arms around the boy and kisses him while the clearly miserable boy's arms hang limply down his sides. Stepping back, the professor takes one of the boy's hands and places it on the boy's penis. They exchange a glance. The boy is almost surprised to notice that his penis is hard and pointing almost straight up. Smiling, the professor forces the youngster's head down.
Your mind begins to wander as the boy opens the man's fly and takes out his fat penis. Soon, haltingly at first, he's sucking on the old man's cock. The boy is very attractive, but there is no escaping the fact that he is, indeed, a boy. You begin to wonder about me. Beneath my clothing, could I possibly be a girl?
Not that it matters that much to you. If I'm a girl, then you'll try to fuck me, anyhow, but you were all psyched up to make love to a boy.
You hear my shower stop.
"Robin!" you call out after a few moments.
"Yes, John," I reply in a soft, feminine voice.
"Robin, I don't know how to ask you this ..."
I peek my head out the door.
"Stay right on that couch and don't move," I say.
Then I open the door slowly and stand in the doorway. I am wearing only a white, mid-thigh-length terry cloth robe. It is open off my thin shoulders, revealing almost all of my softly taut chest. You can see the beginnings of my modest cleavage. The robe's terry cloth belt is tied twice around my impossibly thin waist. I pose with one foot ahead of the other, revealing a good deal of thigh, and place my hands on my very trim hips. From the couch, you can see droplets of water on my beautiful, soft shoulders and pretty chest.
I seductively shimmy my shoulders. You have never seen anything nearly half as lovely as the blond beauty scant feet away from you.
Slowly, ever so slowly, my left hand leaves my hip and grasps my robe at thigh-level. I smile shyly as I open the robe a bit, and out pops about 5 and a half inches of erect penis. After a few seconds, I cover it again.
"There, darling," I say, teasingly shimmying my bare shoulders even more prominently, "does that answer your question?"
Your eyes are filled with lust. I retreat back into the bedroom, and you hear the lock click again.
You can't help but have an erection, and you are getting very tired of being kept from what you want ... what you need.
You look at the television, and the naked boy is sitting, facing the professor on his lap. The professor is still fully clothed, but it's obvious his cock is out and buried deep into what had been a virgin ass. The professor's hands run all over the youngster's back while the boy -- eyes closed -- bobs up and down. This goes on for a very long time, and when the professor forces an open-mouthed kiss on the boy, he eagerly responds and begs for more.
You open your own fly and take out your huge, pulsating cock. You know you need relief, and you need it very soon. You hear me rustling near the door and you quickly put your hard-on back into your pants.
When the door opens, your breath is taken away by the sight of the classiest, sexiest person you've ever seen.
I am wearing the staple of every woman's wardrobe: The Little Black Dress. It has short sleeves, a moderately low-cut neckline and ends very high on my shapely thighs. It is so tiny that you don't see how anyone could get into it, but you can tell every time I move that my curves fit beautifully and comfortably. I am wearing tasteful silver earrings and part of my hair hangs straight down over my left eye like Veronica Lake and the rest flows down my perfectly postured back.
You are mesmerized as I slowly walk toward you, undulating under that little dress with each little step. As I come close to you, I turn my back. There are a few inches left unzipped near my regal neck.
"Be a darling and zip me up, will you?" I say as I lift my hair so it won't be stuck in the zipper.
You take hold of my arms and bring your lips to the back of my neck. I instinctively back up and I can feel your hard cock on my back through your pants. As your wet mouth continues to nuzzle my neck, I shudder and involuntarily let out a little groan. My eyes are closed.
"Come on, John, darling," I say plaintively. "We're going out."
Your voice is commanding as your hands run up and down over my curvy torso.
"No," you say, sternly. "We're not going out."
Your left arm pulls me tightly into you and your right hand runs slowly up and down the inside of my right thigh. Your mouth is doing wondrous things to my neck.
"We're ... we're not?" I whisper.
You turn me around, grab me around the waist, your hands going almost completely around it, and look intently into my blue eyes. My hands are lightly up against your hard chest.
"You've been teasing me ever since I got here," you say. "I'm through being played with. I don't care how beautiful you are. You are still my boy and you're going to do what I tell you to."
You kiss me -- hard. I struggle, but you're far too strong. Your tongue invades my mouth and soon you can tell my resistance is melting. My body slowly begins to undulate into yours. Finally, I am able to free my lips from yours.
"Let me go," I say.
"You don't mean that," you say confidently. You love being in control of such a beautiful, classy person. You lick my left earring and then run your tongue into my ear. Your hands are all over my body, finally settling on my ass, which you grasp repeatedly.
"Awgghh," I cry, then move my head rapidly to bite your right earlobe. My lust is battling my sense of propriety. "Please let me go." I beg like a child.
You have no intention of letting me go.
"You're mine," you say.
The only part of my body that hasn't surrendered to you is my mind. My eyes are closed and I'm not even certain what I'm saying.
"But I'm beautiful ... and ... and ... and everyone wants me. YOU want me. When you were through with college I was only five or six years old, and now you can't keep your hands off me."
I start to sob.
"Please stop. Please let me go."
You release me and take a step back. The little amount of makeup I wear has run just a bit, but it doesn't take much to straighten up my little black dress. I try hard to compose myself.
"All right," you say. "I'll stop. But I'm tired of being jerked around. I'm leaving."
"No!"
My cry is almost involuntary. I hang my head, my long, straight blond hair cascading down.
"Please," I hear myself say. "Please don't leave me."
You walk toward me, put both hands on my face and tenderly kiss my lips.
"If you don't want me to leave," you say, "then suck my dick."
I shake my head and look at you pleadingly.
"Please don't make me do that," I say.
"Suck my dick," you say, "or I'm leaving right now."
You almost can't believe your good fortune as the most beautiful and classy-looking creature you've ever seen slowly goes to his knees, unbuckles your belt and unhooks your pants. My earrings tinkle as my right hand tentatively reaches for your hard penis.
You close your eyes and remember how sexy I looked at the McDonald's and in my robe, but somehow, this is better, totally high-class. You have bent this incredibly desirable person to your will.
You can feel my sweet breath on your pre-cum laden penis. I look up at you with my eyes capturing your total attention. I'm about to lower my mouth to your cock when you grab my hair and pull me away.
"Stop," you say quietly.
I look up at you, puzzled, wondering if I had done anything wrong. You smile.
"If you would have touched it with your mouth," you say, "I would have shot my load right away."
I rise and tenderly kiss your lips. My fingers run through your hair.
"I turned you on that much?" I say.
You reply that you just need a few minutes.
"OK," I say. "I'd like to use the bathroom, anyway."
You watch as I mince my way into the bedroom and go into the bathroom.
You enter the bedroom, sit on my bed and try to think of other things to distract your cock away from what you would consider a premature ejaculation. What happens a few minutes later isn't going to help.
The bathroom door opens, and I walk out barefoot. I am wearing what can only be the harem outfit I described in my first story. I have washed my face, and my hair cascades over my beautiful bare shoulders. Taut and bare are most of my torso, my tiny waist, and you can see through the sheer pants that I have an erection.
I walk up close to you. Your eyes are almost disbelieving.
"Do you see anything, darling," I say, "that you like?"
It takes you a couple of moments to catch your breath. You notice for perhaps the first time how flawless and fresh and pretty my face is, framed by all that thick, blond hair. My eyes are so blue and looking up at you adoringly. My lips, with just a trace of light-red lipstick, are parted. I have removed my earrings, leaving you unimpeded access to my regal neck whenever you choose to nuzzle it. Even my collarbone is enticing. You don't quite know what to do first.
Your hands almost instinctively go to my bare shoulders, kneading and caressing them. You know how much that turns me on.
"Uhhmmmmm ..." I moan as I shimmy my shoulders slightly in appreciation of your manly hands. "Please don't stop."
I take a step forward so that our bodies are almost touching. With your hands still on my quivering shoulders, I take both my hands and put them on the lowest button of your shirt.
"Silly," I say softly with a pretend pout, "your pants are off, but you're still wearing this shirt. Wouldn't you be more comfortable if we took it off?"
You nod.
With your hands still on my shoulders, I begin to thrash about, rubbing my exquisite body up against you as I unfasten one button after another. My blond hair is whipping about, and as I reach for the top button, you know you have a tigress on your hands.
My hair is all over my face, but you can still see my eyes as they are locked onto yours. With my shoulders -- still in your grasp -- hunched close to my body, I slowly remove your shirt over your muscled shoulders and back. You have to release my shoulders to let the shirt fall to the floor.
I take a step back and look at your now-naked body. You have an erection that a porn star would envy.
"You're ... magnificent!" I say. My body is actually undulating in that harem outfit. I can't wait to be in your embrace.
Then, a thought occurs to me.
"John, if you would prefer me to dress like a boy, I'll do it. I can just wear some jeans and a T-shirt and put my hair up under a cap. If that would turn you on more, I'll do it for you, darling."
"Robin," you reply with your breathing getting heavy, "you couldn't possibly turn me on any more than you're doing right this minute. I'm just worried that I'm going to cum too soon."
I am very glad you like me in my harem outfit. I feel so sexy when I wear it.
"Don't worry, darling," I say as I begin to writhe around just out of your reach. "You won't cum any sooner than you want to. I have an idea."
My writhing turns into a slow, sensual dance. My movements seem to defy the laws of physics, moving at angles you didn't know existed -- totally feminine and vulnerable, lush and soft, yet angular and lithe. All the while, my eyes never lose contact with yours. I turn my back to you, and then I notice that your eyes are running up and down my exquisite young body. When you finally return your glance to my face, I am looking at you fetchingly with my chin touching my bare right shoulder.
Even if you wanted to resist me -- and you don't -- you wouldn't have a chance.
Moving toward me, you grasp my shoulders from behind, pulling my back into your erection. Your mouth goes to my neck. Your moustache is sweaty -- your beard scratches my bare flesh.
And I love it.
Your assault on my neck sends delicious chills all through my body while your hands grab for every inch of bare flesh they can find. I can do nothing but lean back into your hard nakedness and joyously surrender to your overpowering strength.
You slowly turn me around to face you and smile confidently. I gently take your right hand with both of mine, submissively hunching my alluring, thin shoulders toward my beautiful body. The motion causes my little breasts to bunch together under my transparent harem top. I tenderly take your index finger and ever ... so ... slowly ... suck it into my mouth.
"Ummmmm," I murmur, my eyes closing as you force your finger into and out of my mouth. My hands release your hand and drop palms out, helplessly at my sides. My lovely arms shimmy and my bare torso follows suit as your left hand grabs my ass cheeks. With your right hand at my mouth and your left on my ass, you have taken your rightful ownership of your boy.
The fingers of your left hand find the slit in my harem pants. As you knead my buns, my soft breasts under my top rub sideways against your hard chest as my arms hang at my sides and my bare shoulders shimmy to and fro. Your middle finger finds my anus and you notice that I have lubricated it so much that your finger slides into my tightness fairly easily.
"Ohhhhh ..." I murmur with my eyes closed. Suddenly, I open them, release your finger from my mouth, smile and throw my arms around your strong neck. "Here's my idea, darling."
With my arms around your neck, I leap up and wrap my legs around your waist. I feel very tiny. You are so strong. I give you a kiss -- slow, sensual and passionate.
Your hands simultaneously knead my ass cheeks and support my weight. My arms are wrapped tightly around your neck and my voice is barely above a whisper.
"You see, darling," I say, pausing momentarily to mouth the tip of your moustache and give you a quick, gentle kiss, "I know I don't weigh very much (little kiss, then another), but I figure if you (kiss) are carrying me, then you probably won't cum too soon. (We kiss, then my teeth gently linger on your lower lip, stretching it out before releasing it slowly.)
You lift me higher and place your hard cock at my anal opening.
"I want to fuck you now," you say evenly. "Is that all right with you?"
"A man," I say with my eyes looking lovingly into yours, "never has to ask for what is already his."
Your steely hands spread my cheeks and lower me down onto your rock-hard penis.
Gravity and all that lubrication allow your 7 1/2 inches to slide right up into me, but it has been so long since I have had a man inside me that your cock feels very, very tight. My eyes are wide with surprise and shock at how totally you have filled me up. I have never been in this position or felt anything like this.
You are in complete control as you raise me and lower me again and again onto your dick. My anus opens up for you and I hang on tight, my lips pressed wetly to yours, my hair bouncing along behind me. I have never felt so helplessly dominated and so grateful to be the object of another's lust.
As for you, supporting my weight has had the desired effect. You are aroused, rock-hard and not even close to cumming. In fact, you feel you can go on forever, even as you pump me up and down on your cock again and again like a beautiful rag doll. "Even his ass is perfect," you think as you knead it.
You carry me over to the bed and with your cock still buried deep inside me, you lay me down gently near the headboard. My arms are still around your neck and my legs are still wrapped around your waist.
For the first time, I feel your weight on top of me. Your cock continues to ram me in and out.
"Kiss me, John, darling," I plead. You kiss me forcefully, invade my mouth with your tongue and run your hands over my body again and again. You are actually making me tingle.
I am yours. You know it, and you know that I know it.
Your hands travel up my body, finally settling on my bare shoulders. You begin pumping into me rapidly, our bodies pistoning in almost perfect unison. Each time you slam into me, I emit a breathless "uhhh."
My arms release your neck and move impotently to either side of my head. Your mouth is on the nape of my neck, nuzzling, chewing, kissing and sucking it. My left hand plays lightly with your hair. Your beard is scatchy and your moustache is wet when you turn your face to kiss me ... hard. You run your wet tongue across my collar bone, then kiss my lips possessively and commandingly. Your tongue takes up residence in my little mouth.
I can't believe your stamina. You are ravishing my lovely form, sweating and grunting for what seems like forever. The friction of your manly body on my small penis has it aroused. You suck hard on my neck, biting it, then running your bare teeth over to my sexy, frail right shoulder, causing chills to run up and down my body.
Still fucking me like a demon, you run your hands down over the silky material of my harem top, fondle my little breasts, then grab onto my impossibly thin waist and lift my torso. That turns me on so much that I cry out. My arms go around your neck. My anus is being savagely violated.
I am in ecstacy.
I feel my orgasm building. I want us to cum at the exact same time.
"I'm ... going ... to ... cum," I say between your powerful thrusts. "Please ... cum ... with ... me, darling."
You're having none of it, though. You have never felt so hard and so in control. This is the fuck of your lifetime, and you're not anywhere near ready to cum yet.
You sneer at me, grab my waist even harder and slow your thrusts to gain maximum friction.
"Go ahead, boy," you command. "Cum, you little girl slut."
You kiss me slowly, yet forcefully, leaving little doubt who is master, and who is maid.
"Cum, you little cunt."
"I'm ... not ... a ... cunt," I say, but at this juncture, I'm not absolutely certain. "I'm ... a ... lady."
But with your right hand squeezing my narrow waist, you bring your left hand up and grab my blond hair, forcing my head back and exposing my neck. As your teeth bite down, pinching my lovely skin, my shoulders shake and shimmy. I scream.
I cum as I have never cum before. Your big cock feels my sphincter clamp down on it as I shudder through an orgasm that would easily be a 10 on the Richter scale.
As my orgasm slowly subsides and I begin to sob in exhaustion and silent gratitude, you continue to pump into me, a little more gently, but still strong and deep. There is a lot more you want to do with me before you shoot your load.
I breathe deeply in and out, and my body goes limp with my arms at my sides. You withdraw your massive cock from my anus, causing me to shudder and emit a little cry. You move over me, almost as if you were doing a pushup, and try to kiss me. But I turn my pretty head.
"I'm sorry, John," I murmur. "After I cum, I kind of lose interest." I sink back into almost a sleepy state.
Well, you haven't lost any interest. Quite the contrary. I am your boy, and you must be pleasured. You notice my robe on a chair near my computer, and you reach for it. You remove the terry cloth belt and sit down on my thighs, your big prick sticking out in front of you. You take my hands and push my wrists together. I'm so overcome by having been so thoroughly fucked that I hardly notice until you start wrapping the belt tightly around my thin wrists.
"What are you doing?" I ask, alarmed. Your weight on my thighs prevents me from moving away and your hands are so much stronger than mine.
"Shut up," you say, and continue to wrap my wrists. You tie a knot, leaving about two feet of the belt remaining. From your perch on top of my waist, you look down at my helpless form. My harem top is still off my shoulders, forced to hunch in by my wrists being bound. My hair is everywhere. My beautiful neck bears the marks of your mouth's assault. In my blue eyes, you see something you hadn't seen before:
A trace of fear.
"What ... what are you going to do to me?" I ask.
You bend down for a kiss and note that I make a face. You grab my head with both hands and force a kiss onto my resisting lips. You don't stop until I allow your tongue to pass into my mouth.
Sitting up again, you lightly run your fingertips over my bare chest and shoulders.
I hate you. I fear you. But mixed in with the disgust I feel at your touch is just a trace of renewed desire.
"What shall I do with you?" you say as your fingertips continue to play with my bare skin. "I think I know."
You take the end of my robe belt and lean forward to tie it firmly to the headboard. this forces my arms to reach way up, stretching my torso. The concave from my rib cage to my tiny waist is now even more pronounced. You move off me and can't resist running your big hands up and down my torso while I writhe violently in protest.
You notice that the bottom of my harem outfit is sticking to me because of my orgasm. You remove the transparent bottom garment and use my robe to wipe me off. Except for my little harem top, I am naked. You have never seen such a beautiful body -- male or female. You sit on my chest and thrust your flaccid penis toward my lips. I try to free my arms over my head, but it's hopeless.
"Suck me," you command.
It is the last thing I wish to do. I have lost sexual desire after reaching orgasm, and the thought of having your big penis that had just been inside my ass in my mouth is disgusting and abhorrent.
"Please John ... John darling," I plead, "don't make me do this. Maybe in a little while, OK?"
"No," you say, grabbing my hair. "Not OK. What part of 'suck me' didn't you understand?"
With that, you bring your cock to my mouth. Your hand grasps my hair -- hard. My arms are stretched out over my head. There is nothing for me to do except obey.
I open my mouth and you thrust your cock inside. I hate myself and I hate you, but you don't care. My little mouth can't possibly accommodate all of your massive shaft, but I do the best I can, sucking and releasing, sucking and releasing. I can smell your sweating body as you pump into me, your eyes looking down on me in total dominance.
"That's it, boy," you say softly. "Suck that cock." You thrust hard, and I gag a few times, but after a very long time, I start to hate it less and less. It almost seems like the natural progression of things. You are the dominant male and I am your beautiful and dominated boy.
After what is easily 20 minutes, you finally remove your dick from my mouth and get off my chest. You slide down the bed and lay at my side. Your hands delight in running over my bare, stretched-out torso. Your mouth kisses mine, and I don't mind so much as I did before. Then, your hands reach under my harem top and reveal my soft, tender breasts.
You smile confidently and slowly move your mouth to my left nipple. I can feel your moustache and beard up against my lovely chest. Your teeth assault my nipple, and I writhe violently, but the belt holds my arms high up over my head.
"No! Ow! Please don't!" I cry. But my writhing and protestations only spur you on to bite me harder. You go from one nipple to the other again and again, biting hard while your hands despoil my bare torso. I flail and cry, but you are like a man possessed. Somehow you can tell that despite my pain and begging you to stop, I am once again beginning to be turned on.
Your moustache is sweaty and your beard wet with your own saliva as you finally leave my sore, raw nipples and kiss my lips. Your hands go up and down my torso and you can feel my body respond to you.
I am also kissing you back, sucking your tongue into my mouth and murmuring your name. Your mouth lingers on mine for several erotic minutes. My body, of course, is still stretched out and your hands are having a wonderful time. When your hand cups my scrotum, my little penis begins to awaken.
I'm almost sorry when you untie the robe belt from the headboard. My arms come down, but my wrists are still tied together, and you get off the bed and lead me off it by the belt. You pull me over in front of the bedroom's full-length mirror. You raise the rope to your shoulder level and make me look at us in the mirror. My blond hair is dishelveled, my harem top unevenly baring my shoulders, and the rest of my cute body is bare.
Holding the end of the belt, you are sneering proudly at your possession.
We are two men. No, a man and a helpless boy with his wrists tied in front of his lovely, vulnerable body.
I have never felt so humiliated.
"Get on your knees, boy," you say with a nasty grin, "and suck me off while I watch you in the mirror."
It is too degrading. I close my eyes and shake my head, "no."
In response, you yank on the belt and pull me behind you like a slave while you walk into the living room. You take me to the front door, casually drop the belt and get behind me. You straighten my top so it is properly off my soft shoulders. I don't know what to think.
"I want you to look your best, Robin," you say, "when I push you outside the door."
I am horrified when you put one hand on my back and the other on the doorknob.
"No!" I shout. "No, please, I'll do anything you say. Please ... don't. Don't let my neighbors see me like this. Please!"
I place my tied wrists around your neck and kiss you passionately, over and over. After your hands explore my trim body and cruelly tweak my sore nipples, your fingers grab my naked butt cheeks.
"That's a good boy," you say as you move my arms from around your neck. "Now, pick up the end of the belt and hand it to me."
My face turns red with humiliation as I am forced to aid in my own submission. With my wrists tied so tightly, it isn't easy, but I take the end of the belt in the fingertips of both hands and offer it to you. You take it without a word and lead me back to the bedroom. We are once again side-by-side in front of the mirror. You stare at me without any expression on your face, and I know what is expected.
My blue eyes look pleadingly at you as I slowly sink to my knees in front of you. Your cock is soft, but still big as I hold it in my fingertips and suck it into my mouth. Both of your hands move to my head, pumping it into your hardening dick. You look at us in the mirror, and you soon can see your full 7 1/2 inches of glistening penis go in and out of my mouth.
As for me, I don't want to look in the mirror, but when I finally do, I see a beautiful blond with lovely shoulders eagerly taking his man's cock into his mouth, guided by my hands bound by a terry cloth belt. It is so erotic. Your hands are on my head, playing with my hair. My shoulders shimmy, and I'm making little, appreciative noises. I am being utterly dominated by a strong, powerful man and I don't ever want it to stop.
But you don't care what I want. You are in charge here.
After a very long time, you remove your dick from my mouth, stand up and yank me up by the belt. You place my computer chair in front of the mirror, get behind me and bend me over the chair. With one hand on my left hip and the other lining up your massive prick, you prepare to enter me from behind.
Our eyes meet in the mirror. Yours are dominant and purposeful. Mine are wide and apprehensive, but submissive to you. With a grunt, you plunge your prick into me. I arch my back and cry out as you begin pumping into my already-sore anal passage. Both your rough hands are on my slim hips now, pulling me into you again and again and again.
I look at us in the mirror. Your eyes are hard, cold, business-like. My shoulders erotically shimmy in rhythm with your thrusts as my supple, overpowered body absorbs your hardness. I can't stop looking at us in the mirror. You are so massive behind me, I look so sexy with my harem top and blond hair. My face is mesmerized but still soft-featured and beautiful, until, that is, your hands move to my breasts and pinch them, hard. I writhe, trying to escape your cruel fingers, but it is no use. After what seems like an eternity, you take your right hand and push my head down, as if to emphasize your domination. Your left hand lightly traces its way over my twisting, bare torso as you pump into me.
"I own you," you whisper in my right ear.
"Yes," I reply. "I'm yours. I am your boy, and you are my man for as long as you want me."
Right now, you want me for a very long time, pumping into me from behind for the next 40 minutes. I'm a rag, my nerves almost deadened by your marathon assault on my anus and your hands running all over my body again and again. Your fingers settle on my tiny, little waist, controlling me easily with your strength. Finally, you lean on top of me and bite me -- hard -- on my bare right shoulder.
I cry out, a mixture of pain and ecstacy. You are thisclose to cumming, but this isn't the way you want me. At long last, you remove your pulsating prick from my butt, grab the belt and lead me to the bed.
You lift me and place me on my back ... and slowly untie my hands.
My shoulders bare, my eyes staring into yours, I silently reach out my arms for you. You move on top of me, and my dainty hands gently press against your chest. My knees go around your waist, and your manhood once again plunges into me.
We are lovers now, moving in perfect unison. My little penis is again hard. My hands play with your hair while you grab me around my waist. You kiss me, so tenderly, as if it's the first time.
I moan, and urgently launch my lithe, exhausted body up into you.
"Please, darling," I cry as my little penis cums for the second time. "Make me yours! Make me your boy!"
That does it. Your cock explodes inside me as your hands manhandle my helpless, pliant body. You pound into me again and again and again until finally, you utter a loud, gutteral sound and collapse on top of me.
In seconds, you are asleep, blissfully unaware that minutes later your wet cock slowly slips out of my worn and weary rectum.
You sleep through what's left of the night. When you awaken, it is daylight and I am lying next to you. I have showered and washed my hair, which is now in pigtails.
I am wearing the high school cheerleader outfit.
It clings to the curves of my torso. My arms and a trace of my midrift are bare, and my cute, little skirt reveals my lovely thighs. The nape of my neck is red in places from your rough beard and moustache. I have four or five hickeys, a bite mark on my neck and another on the back of my right shoulder. My lips are sore and raw from all your kisses. My breasts and anus ache.
Yet, as you look over at me, laying back with my arms at my sides, I am the most fresh-looking, serene and beautiful person you have ever seen.
"Come to me, Mr. Smith ... please," I say softly.
You move on top of me. Your dick is hard. My breath is minty. Yours is terrible, but I don't care. Your hands grasp my bare arms and you can see that I am wearing nothing under my skirt. You mount me and plunge into me as my knees part for you. We kiss, slowly and passionately.
"Ohhhh ... Mr. Smith," I murmur as my body undulates under you.
Later, you will leave and go off in search of other conquests. But not yet, my darling.
Not yet.
THE END
The author welcomes your comments at oberon_52@hotmail.com