Chapter 1
*Katherine*
Knowing my interest in the subject a friend had told me about an exhibition I should see, a group of six photographic artists were showing their work at a small, private gallery. It was mid evening by the time I got there and by then there were very few people left in the place so I was able to view the items without the usual noisy gaggle that often attends such exhibitions. Each artist’s work had been grouped and as I found most of it relatively unexciting I had been strolling through the displays, but when I turned a corner and saw the hands I stopped dead in my tracks.
There were twenty or thirty photographs, of men and women’s hands, and although all the work was excellent it was not surprising that it was the female ones that really held my attention.
I had been there for several minutes before I realised something about one particular pair, I looked closer, and felt sure I was right. Then my concentration was broken by a voice.
‘You seem to like them.’ she said.
I turned to see a young, very attractive woman standing beside me. Her face had a fey, almost elfin look, wide set grey-green eyes, a small, up tilted nose and a full-lipped mouth. Her dress was a dark jade green, buttoned high to the neck and tailored to fit her generous bust line and slim waist before flaring out from her hips. But attractive as all those features were, at that moment the really distinctive thing about her was her hair. Its colour was itself quite remarkable, a rich, glossy auburn. But in addition to that was its unusual style, cut and shaped to follow the line of her head, then slicked down, making it look somewhat like a burnished, copper helmet.
‘Yes I do, very much.’ I finally answered. ‘Are they your work?’
‘Yes they are.’
‘You have a wonderful eye, and the lighting is marvellous.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Am I mistaken, or are these a ballerina’s? I can’t remember her name.’ I asked pointing to the photograph that had caught my attention.
‘Kerry Anderson, yes you’re quite right. How on earth could you tell? Hands and feet are usually the least memorable parts of other people’s bodies.’
‘I have seen several photographs of her before, and I suppose I’m what you might call a hands person, you know, the way most men are classified as being tits, legs or bums people.’
‘Oh really, that’s very uncommon. What kind of work do you do?’
‘I’m a graphic artist, purely commercial.’ I added.
‘Another visual person.’
‘Yes, though my work’s not as artistic as yours.’
‘Just because it’s commercial doesn’t necessarily mean it’s less artistic, or vice versa, my pictures are for sale too.’
‘I’ll certainly see if I can get this one of Kerry Anderson.’
She gave me a broad grin and said. ‘I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, none of them has gone yet. But anyway I could always print another copy for you. So how artistic does that make me?’
I said that was fair comment, introduced myself, and having discovered her name was Katherine then asked if she would mind explaining how she achieved the different effects in a couple of the other photographs.
Until then she’d been standing with her hands held behind her but as she started answering my question she needed them to point out technical differences between the two pictures. And as she did that I seemed to stop breathing and felt my heart thumping in my chest, because her own hands were far, far more beautiful than even those in the photograph.
The skin was so white it seemed almost translucent, the long fingers slender and tapering, tipped with perfectly shaped nails that were lacquered to the same coppery red as her lipstick.
But they weren’t just beautiful things to look at, it was the way she used them that really held my attention. Their movements were gracefully fluid, their gestures positively sensual, and even as she pointed out the effects she had achieved, lightly brushing them over the photographs, I found my head spinning.
We talked for several minutes, sharing several technical and artistic problems and solutions, and exchanging the odd anecdote about work we had recently done. She smiled and laughed easily, was able to tell a story against herself with humour, and I’m sure she could immediately tell from my own reactions how strongly I was attracted to her.
So, when the gallery owner came over and said there was somebody from one of the art world magazines he would like her to meet, I guess she wasn’t surprised when I asked if she would like to join me for a meal after closing. But I was both surprised and delighted when she said she would.
‘I’ll need to be here for about another half an hour, but there’s a little Italian restaurant just around the corner, why not go there and wait for me. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
On the way out I gave a cheque for the photograph to an assistant then walked to the restaurant Katherine had mentioned.
She was quicker than she said she might be and I really had only enough time to explain I was waiting for someone, glance through the menu, and order a bottle of wine, before she arrived.
I spotted her as soon as she came through the door but even in the short time I had to watch as she made her way through the tables towards me I was struck by just how beautiful she was. It wasn’t just her face and figure, though they were quite stunning, it was also the way she moved. ‘Like a dancer!’ I thought.
Having settled herself I poured us both a glass of wine and we ordered our meals, then we went straight back to where our previous conversation had been interrupted. The food arrived, we ate and drank, and still we talked. There seemed to be few things we didn’t share an opinion on, and even when we disagreed about something the other’s point of view seemed perfectly relevant. It was marvellous to find we had many things in common and could share our thoughts so easily.
But although I was able to keep my end of the conversation flowing, at times I found it extraordinarily difficult. It was having those hands so close that was the problem, the way she sometimes used them to accentuate something she was saying, and even the way she held her knife and fork. But most disturbing of all was the habit she had of toying with her glass, running her fingers up and down the stem, stroking the bowl, then circling the rim with the tip of one finger.
Try as I might, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head of how indescribably wonderful it would be to have her doing those things to me, to my cock. Of course it hadn’t taken long for those thoughts to bring on an erection, which simply refused to subside, and then in time begin to feel positively uncomfortable.
Of course sooner or later my preoccupation became apparent, and after a particularly long pause in our conversation she asked if anything was the matter.
‘No, nothing’s wrong, I’m sorry if I seem a bit distracted Katherine. It’s your hands.’ I added, almost guiltily.
‘My hands? Oh, I see, you find them, distracting?’
‘Very. I can’t keep my eyes off them.’
‘Yes I had noticed that, but of course you said you were a hands person. I wonder why that is?’
‘I have always been fascinated by them.’
‘Since you were young?’
‘Yes, well certainly from my early teens.’
‘Is that just from the artistic viewpoint, or sexually too?’
I hesitated before answering. ‘Yes, I find them sexually exciting too.’
‘I wonder, did something happen when you were young?’
There didn’t seem any point in trying to cut-off the way the conversation had headed, so admitted. ‘There was a woman, an older woman. She was very good with her hands.’
‘Ah, I see, it all makes sense then doesn’t it. Tell me, have you been imagining what my hands would feel like if I touched you, perhaps stroked your penis?’
I felt myself actually starting to blush at her directness, and had to clear my throat before answering. ‘I’m sorry if that offends you, but yes, yes I have been.’
She gave a low, deep laugh. ‘No Craig, I’m certainly not offended. Perhaps flattered. I certainly understand your proclivities and preferences. I have my own too, which tend to be oral actually. But tell me, is your thing about manual stimulation exclusive of other sexual activities?’
‘Oh no, it’s not an obsession, hands are not a fetish. It’s just something I like very much.’
‘Good. We have even more in common than I first thought, that’s excellent. As I’m a photographer it’s not really surprising that I’m a very visual person. And I happen to think that the sight of a really nice cock, I mean when it’s fully erect, is one of the most visually exciting things, and of course it’s rather difficult to see it when it’s up inside me. So, and quite apart from the many other things about it, seeing a man come in my hands is extremely arousing.’ she added with a meaningful smile.
‘Unfortunately there are very few men who are satisfied with just letting me do that for them. It’s silly really, most men will admit they get a much stronger climax when they do, but they still prefer fucking. Odd, isn’t it.’
‘And your preference is for oral sex?’
‘Yes, most definitely. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy the regular variety, but for preference, definitely a combination of manual and oral.’
‘We certainly do seem to have the right things in common Katherine. Are we going to do something about this situation?’ I added in a lower tone of voice.
‘I certainly hope so.’ she replied, then paused. Her eyes held mine with a steady gaze and I could tell she was considering something, perhaps evaluating me, then after several long seconds, she continued. ‘I actually came over by cab this evening, so if you could give me a lift home, well we could continue our personal comparisons there, if that suits you?’
When I later replayed the bits of the conversation I remembered I had to admit its progress had been amazingly fast and the outcome actually seemed a bit impersonal, almost cold-blooded. But at the time, after being continually aroused by the sight of those soft, seductively erotic hands, I couldn’t have imagined a more exciting conclusion to what had at one stage threatened to be a rather dull evening.
The silence in the car during the short drive to her flat was in sharp contrast to the easy fluency of our conversation over dinner, her communication restricted to little more than directions as to which turnings to take. But then as my own head was filled with a confusion of thoughts I contributed even less.
Her apartment was on the outer fringes of one of the more fashionable shopping areas of town, on the first floor, above what was obviously her photographic studio. Once she had closed the door behind us she said. ‘Come and talk to me while I make us some coffee.’ So I dutifully followed her through to the kitchen and then as she began getting things together she started talking again.
She said that in her experience it seemed that artistic people tended to also be more creative in their sexual preferences, and gave a couple of what seemed to me to be quite weird examples. But although I was trying to listen to what she was saying I was only participating with half my brain, the other half was totally absorbed in watching her hands.
Every time she picked something up I was reminded of the way she had toyed with the wine glass, her long slender fingers lingering on whatever she was holding, following its shape, almost caressing it. Even as she measured the coffee into the pot one hand was sensually running up and down its sides, as though she was stroking some ridiculously massive penis. The effects I’d felt in the restaurant returned, but as I was then standing so close to her and could also smell her subtly distinctive perfume, they were very much stronger and my still swollen cock quickly re-stiffened.
I suddenly realised she’d stopped talking and when I looked up I found her watching me, there was a questioning look on her face but her eyes were sparkling mischievously. ‘Well, do you?’ She asked and I realised she’d been waiting for my answer to a question I simply hadn’t heard.
‘I’m sorry, I was miles away. What was the question?’
‘Oh I don’t think you were that far away Craig, and that particular question wasn’t important. But this one might be.’ she added, as she dropped her hand to my crotch.
‘Aah yes, I was right.’ she said as her fingers found the hardened length. ‘The new question is, do you want me to do it now, or wait a while longer?’
Even as she was asking me the question she was unzipping and unbuckling me, then pushing her hand inside my trousers.
‘Oh, briefs. Never mind, but if we’re going to see each other from time to time I suggest you get yourself a few pairs of boxer shorts. I know many women think they’re very unsexy, but they do make a man so much more, well, accessible.’
Slipping one hand down under the waistband then turning it and using it to hold my cock flat against my stomach, she tugged the briefs down with the other. ‘There, that’s better isn’t it. Not much fun being all cramped up like that. Now let’s see what we’ve got.’ she said as she pulled them lower, then, as my fully erect cock sprang free. ‘Oh yes, I like that! Big, and nicely shaped. A very nice specimen. And from the look and feel of it, I think it had better be now.’
Not giving me time to answer, or object, she moved round to stand behind me and, reaching both her long arms around my waist, slipped one hand under my balls and curled the fingers of the other around my cock.
‘Now let’s see what sort of a performer you are, I’m sure you’ll rate at least a ‘good’, maybe even an ‘excellent’. I’d like to think so.’
She started ordinarily enough, one hand slowly stroking back and forth while the other cupped my balls, fondling, rolling and squeezing them. But her fingers were so extraordinarily soft and their timing and actual movements so lazily sensual that what I felt was far from ordinary. Closing my eyes I let myself drift off in a haze of selfish pleasure, ignoring the odd surroundings and concentrating on the sensations coursing up through my body.
It must have been several minutes before I realised the feelings I was getting had changed dramatically, had become much more intense. Looking down I saw that she had released my balls and was using both hands on my cock, one around the shaft, the other concentrating on the more sensitive, already plum coloured head.
The hand curled around the shaft maintained a sort of background beat, slow and steady, its rhythmic stroking punctuated with occasional much stronger squeezes. But the other hand provided a truly virtuoso performance and the sensations her fingers generated were incredible. Their movements were fluid, yet purposeful, sometimes fluttering lightly, sometimes tightening almost imperceptibly as they caressingly teased the increasingly bulbous head.
Most of the time she used just the very tips of her fingers, lightly stroking the tautly bulging surface, running them around the deep groove behind the head or brushing them up and down over the rim. But she increased the intensity of the sensations I was feeling by occasionally changing the pattern of what she was doing, sometimes using the soft centre of her palm, at others making a loose circle with her fingers and slipping them backwards and forwards over it.
She quickly turned something that had already been a full-sized erection into a massive one. The shaft was thicker and harder than it usually was, the veins darkly knotted and the head had turned a dark purple, the skin stretched tight and made even more glossy by the drops of pre cum that had started seeping from the eye.
‘Ah yes, quite magnificent.’ she said in a low voice as she pressed herself tighter against my back and looked down around my shoulder. ‘You are going to let me photograph it some time, aren’t you?’
‘If you’d like to.’ I answered in a tightly hoarse voice. ‘Handle me like this and you can do whatever you like with me.’
She chuckled, a low, warm sound. ‘I’d be careful of what offers you make to me Craig, I’m quite capable of taking you up on them.
Tightening her grip around the base of the shaft so the volume of blood trapped inside made it quiver and throb, she paused for a moment then, using just the very tip of one finger-nail, she slowly dragged it down along the entire length.
It was as though her hand was connected to a power supply, firing off each nerve ending in turn, the electric thrills surging up through my jolting body, and then exploding inside my brain.
I heard myself give a series of deep, guttural grunts as she repeated the action, then almost doubled over in exquisite agony as she did the same thing to the even more sensitive head.
‘Ah yes, I thought you would like that.’ she whispered, then did it several more times, each one extracting equally powerful reactions from me. Then, as though taking pity on my tortured, shuddering body she calmed the overworked nerve endings by releasing her grip, lightly pressing the palms of both hands around it and gently stroking my cock from end to end.
But if I thought she was then going to finally release me by simply getting me off, I was mistaken. Once she saw the intensity of my reactions had lessened she gave my cock several powerful pumps, then again using one hand to grip the base, started to repeat all the things she’d done before.
But by then she had already driven the pressure inside me too high, had excited the nerve endings to the point where they were just a mass of wildly firing connections. ‘Katherine, please! Please!’ I managed to gasp a few minutes later after a particularly powerful jolt had left me virtually breathless.
‘You mean you want to come, already?’ she asked with an almost mocking tone in her voice.
‘Oh God yes!’
‘As you’ll find out if we see more of each other, I usually like to wait longer than this, but as it’s our first time, well, let’s see if this does the trick.’ she said, then, maintaining the grip one hand had around the base of the shaft, she made a ring from her thumb and index finger of the other, tightening them until the circle just skimmed the rim of my cock-head. Then she began to flick it back and forth, gradually moving her hand faster and faster.
I wouldn’t have believed it possible but, because the stimulation was so localised, the intensity of the thrills were even greater than those I’d felt before, and the pleasure centres in my brain were simply overloaded.
As my swollen balls finally tightened she loosened the grip she’d had of the shaft, and used that hand to cup them, pushing several fingers hard up into my groin as they retracted. I felt her squirming herself even more tightly against my back, and the mass inside me churning, quickly building to criticality. Then felt my muscles tensing, my body arching back against her as the pressure inside me rose even higher and higher.
Realising just how close I was to climaxing, while her circled fingers continued flashing back and forth over the rim, I felt the other hand finally began to pump me, and although her voice seemed to come from somewhere far off, heard her saying. ‘Ah yes, any second now!’ Then urging. ‘Come Craig, come now!’
And, as though I’d been waiting for her permission, I did. I heard myself give a loud gasping grunt, and, as the rest of my body locked tight, my hips jerked forward and the first scalding jet ripped through me.
My eyes were clamped tightly shut as it blasted out of me so I didn’t see it go, but from the feel of it I’d erupted more powerfully than ever before. Then I heard her excited shout. ‘Oh, that’s five, no six tiles, a positively ’star’ performer.’ she said with a catch in her voice as her hand pumped even more strongly.
I spouted several more, almost equally powerful gouts before the pressure behind each surge began to lessen. But even after those monstrous bursts, still it came, each time her hand pumped she was rewarded with another spurt of semen.
But, almost thankfully, I finally felt it coming to an end, and as she milked the last few drops from me she said admiringly. ‘If you’re as good as this in other ways I think we’re going to get along especially well. Just look at all that!’ she added, pointing to the number of large, wet splotches on the kitchen floor.
Ignoring both the mess I’d made and the fact that my cock was still dripping semen I turned, took her in my arms, pulled her close and kissed her. She returned the kiss with passion, squirming herself tight against me, her tongue probing inside my mouth, twining with mine.
As the kiss continued I slid one hand down her back, over the tight curve of her bottom and managed to gradually pull her skirt up enough to get my hand under it. Her legs were bare, the skin warm and silky smooth and my fingers seemed to tingle as they stroked it, slowly working their way higher and higher.
‘That was the most incredibly intense climax Katherine. You have positively magical hands. Now, what about you?’ I said when we finally broke for air.
‘You have a gorgeous and quite remarkably responsive cock Craig, I assure you it was my pleasure too. But a performance as powerful as that does get me turned-on, if you would like to return the compliment, I’d be very grateful.’
I certainly didn’t need any more encouragement and going down on my knees I reached up under her skirt and pulled down her panties. As I got up again I pushed her skirt up to her waist then with a quick lift, hoisted her up and sat her on the edge of the kitchen bench.
As I squatted down she lifted her legs and rested them on my shoulders, giving me a clear view of her pussy. The mound above it was full and fleshy, thickly covered with more of that rich, copper coloured hair, trimmed and clipped to form a neatly thick mat. But I was thrilled to see that the pussy itself, and the skin immediately surrounding it were bare, obviously freshly shaved.
Her pussy-lips were already partially swollen, a dark pink, glistening moistly, and leaning forward I pressed my mouth against them, slipping my tongue between them. As I tasted her the scent of her arousal filled my nostrils and I heard her give a soft sigh as my tongue slid deeper, then, as I felt faint tremors running through her, she slipped her hands around my head and pressed me closer.
She held me there for some time and with my mouth pressed against her what I could do for her was somewhat restricted. But from her responses it seemed that by alternately sucking her pussy-lips and probing between them with my stiffened tongue I was able to continue building her level of excitement.
When her hands loosened their grip a little I gave myself more room to move by slipping mine up and easing her thighs even further apart. Then, pushing one under her bottom and wedging my fingers in the crack between her cheeks, I lifted her a little, at the same time using the thumb and index finger of the other hand to ease back the hood of her clit.
She gave a squeal of surprise when I blew the first gentle puff of air over the exposed tip, then began to squirm herself down against my hand when I followed it with a few more. But knowing the intensity of feelings that produced I didn’t keep it up for too long, relieving them by pressing my mouth against her pussy and gently sucking it.
Then, using slow, but very positive movements I began to lick her. Starting below her pussy and swiping my tongue upwards, I worked up around one side then the other, then, sometimes lightly and sometimes more deliberately, I repeated those moves over and over again.
I felt the tension in her body lessening as she gave herself up to the sensual pleasures my tongue was producing, every now and then giving a low sigh as a particularly strong wave of delight flowed through her.
Although I could see the head of her stiffened clit still peeping out from beneath its protective hood, as I wanted to give her as slow a lead up to her climax as she had given me, I was careful to avoid touching it directly. But apart from that, I used my mouth, lips and tongue as skilfully as I knew how to, and from her steadily increasing sounds of pleasure, presumed I was doing exactly what she wanted.
But when I finally heard those sounds turn to harsher, almost rasping moans I recognised she was finally building up towards her climax, and lightly slid my tongue up over the reddened spike.
Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightened around my head and she leaned back, lifting and pushing her pelvis forward. Knowing exactly what she needed then I increased the speed of my tongue, flicking the tip of it up over her jutting clit, licking faster and faster until finally I heard a harsh, hissing sound coming from between her tightly clenched teeth, felt her almost claw-like fingers digging into the back of my head and, as she arched herself higher, the contractions began.
Her hissing changed to a wailing groan as a series of violent spasms coursed through her and as they rolled on, wave after wave, she clamped her thighs around my head, pressing her spasming pussy against my mouth and holding me so tightly that I began to find it hard to breath. Somehow I managed to suck and swallow most of her freely flowing juices but she was producing so much that I felt the surplus running down over my chin.
She held on to me for so long that I really began to think I was going to suffocate but, just as I was actually starting to get a bit desperate, I felt her relaxing, just enough for me to get my hands up and push her thighs further apart. Her body was still shuddering from time to time from the force of her orgasm and when I looked up I saw that her face and neck remained flushed, the white skin tinged a dark dusky pink.
It was clear that even after, or perhaps because of what I had done for her, she was still strongly aroused, not yet fully satisfied.
I had been concentrating so intently on maximising Katherine’s pleasure that I hadn’t noticed the effect her excitement, plus the feel and smell of her, had been doing to me. So, when I happened to glance down I was surprised to find that in spite of the phenomenal climax I’d just had, my cock was either still, or again, fully engorged. Remembering that she’d said that a combination of manual and oral sex were only her strong preferences, I momentarily wondered if she might enjoy me giving her a second climax with it.
But as I really knew so little about her, in spite of the strength of the temptation, I decided that as I wanted to experience more of her very special skills, it would be better to continue doing what I knew pleased her. But not in the cramped and uncomfortable position we were in.
Slipping back from between her legs I quickly stripped off and as I got up and began undoing the buttons down the front of her dress she opened her eyes. I saw they were still misty with her unfulfilled need and said. ‘Let’s go somewhere more comfortable Katherine. That was much too quick and not fully satisfying for you.’ Pausing to give her a gentle smile before adding. ‘But before I let you come again I want to kiss every inch of the rest of your beautiful body.’
‘I’d like that Craig.’ she replied softly, unzipping and removing her dress then reaching behind herself to undo her bra and slip it off too. She had lovely breasts, not overly large but firm and beautifully shaped, and when I saw that her nipples were still stiffened I couldn’t resist bending to give each of them a kiss and brief nibble.
For a few seconds she pressed herself against me, then pushed me away. ‘I can take as much of that as you like to give me, but you were right, let’s go somewhere more comfortable,.’
As she slid down off the bench she glanced down and seeing the state my cock was still in, gave me a tight smile. ‘It looks as though you’re nearly ready for a second helping too.’ she said, reaching out and giving it an affectionate squeeze before leading me through to her bed-room.
We must have spent over half an hour, kissing, caressing, licking and sucking just about every part of each other’s body. At first I took control, pressing Katherine down on to the bed, pushing her hands away from me as I did as I had said I would, slowly working my way over every inch of her gorgeous, and super-responsive body. But once I had given her a couple of apparently body numbing orgasms she squirmed out from underneath me, flipping me over on to my back then kneeling astride my legs.
Pushing herself forward until her pussy was jammed against the base of my rearing cock, she leaned down and kissed me. As our lips met and her tongue snaked into my mouth, I slipped my arms around her, pulling her lower, running my hands up and down her back and the tight curve of her arse.
‘I hope we’re going to see a lot more of each other Craig. You’re a very sensitive lover.’ she said when we broke for air. ‘Thorough too.’ she added with a grin. ‘But now let’s see if I can do the same for you. I’d like to give you another as powerful as the first was.’
With that she straightened up and, with her pussy still pressing hard up against it, began stroking and caressing my cock.
She took her time, again turning it into a massive, quivering pole then spun herself around, straddling my face, giving me her pussy to lick and suck while she added the expertise of her lips and tongue to what her hands had already done.
Neither of us was in any rush, each doing our best to prolong the feelings we were getting, both giving, as well as receiving the absolute maximum amount of pleasure. In spite of what she had said she wanted to do and the way she was going about it I very much doubted that I could produce anything like the volume of semen I had the first time. But right then the intensity of the thrilling pleasures I was getting were all that actually mattered.
So as I wanted to prolong those for as long as possible I tried to ignore the physical effects of what she was doing for me by concentrating on what I was doing for her.
I felt sure that the way her hips and stomach swayed and flexed indicated that my busy mouth and tongue were giving her at least the same intensity of pleasure that she was giving me. And that seemed to be confirmed by the increasing wetness of her pussy, the overflow of bitter-sweet juices starting to drip down on to my face.
Adding to the other things I had already learned about Kathryn I discovered that she had far more control over her body than I had over mine. Even when I could feel her approaching orgasm she managed to continue stimulating me, and apart from tightening her grip and pausing for a few brief seconds when the first rush hit her, she continued through the two or three peaks I was able to give her.
But even though I was reasonably successful in holding back my own her special skills continued sending incredible sensations coursing up through my body, and eventually I felt the inevitable urgency behind my reactions getting steadily stronger. As the tension and pressure inside me rose still higher I felt my hips starting to jerk, thrusting my cock up to meet her down-swooping mouth, trying to get even more of it deep inside that velvet warmth.
Realising I was finally approaching my own orgasm Kathryn suddenly stopped what she was doing, and for a moment I felt a flood of panic when I thought she was going to spring yet another surprise on me and leave me like that, twitching and jerking in tormented frustration.
But of course I had misjudged her, she had only stopped so she could lift and turn herself around, then with one hand curled firmly around my throbbing shaft, she lowered herself, pressing her sopping pussy up against its base. ‘Your choice now Craig. Do you want me to do it for you, or do you want to actually fuck me?’ she said.
Frankly, at that moment I didn’t really care, by then all I wanted, needed, was the relief of orgasm, so I guess my response must have come from my sub-conscious. ‘You do it!’ I heard myself gasp.
‘Good!’ she said somewhat hoarsely, then moved her free hand behind herself to take her weight as she leaned backwards. ‘Now, hold yourself quite still.’
When she had spun around and straddled me her knees had pinioned my arms to my side, so there was in fact very little I could do. But even so, if she had told me what she was planning I would have said it was almost impossible, and even though I was watching I still found it hard to believe.
Uncurling the hand that had been gripping the shaft and using the palm and extended fingers, she pressed my cock back against her pussy, then began to move her hips up and down. Her pussy-lips were so puffily distended from what I had been doing for her that they folded around half the girth of the shaft, and the sticky mix of her juices and my saliva provided a slickly sealing lubricant for both them and her hand.
So as she pushed her hips up and down the sensations I was getting were similar to those I would have got from having my cock buried in either her mouth or her pussy. Similar to, but because she had stronger and much finer control of her fingers, which she used with all her consummate skill, ten times more powerful.
The thrills I was experiencing were so awesomely different to any others that I wished she had done what she was doing much earlier, before the pressure inside me had reached the critical level it had. But it was too late for wishes, and what she was doing to me was far too effective, and the groaning grunts I was making let Katherine know just how close my orgasm was.
We both stared unblinkingly at the thing my cock had become. The rock-hard shaft quivering from the still rising internal pressure, the head so engorged it looked more like some over-inflated balloon, and the drum-tight skin glistening from the mix of her pussy-juice and my steadily oozing pre-cum.
Katherine had positioned her hand so she had the heel of her palm pressing lightly against the base of the head and her fingers pointing straight down the shaft, so when she saw my climax approaching it took only the slightest change to actually trigger its onset. Curling her thumb back around the shaft she began to move her hand up and down in time with the movement of her hips, letting her wrist rub against the sensitively tender ridge of flesh beneath my cock-head.
After everything else she had done to me four or five of those movements were more than enough to do it. I felt the churning rush, and a split-second later felt my body convulse as the all the accumulated power stored in every single muscle and fibre was suddenly released, then howled as my tortured cock spewed the first gout of semen.
‘Yes! Ooh yeeesss!’ Katherine gasped, and then I felt her hips and hand jerking up and down even more strongly, urging a series of equally powerful jets from my throbbing, pumping cock.
When she was absolutely sure there was no more to come she finally released the slowly wilting length, and as in that position there was nothing I could do to help, I watched, mesmerised by the actions of her magically seductive hands as she took care of herself.
She slid one up through the sticky mess of semen that had splattered her stomach and the undersides of both breasts, her fingers glistening with it as they fondled and squeezed herself, and pinched her stiffly jutting nipples. Meanwhile the other was busy below, flashing back and forth as they briskly stimulated her clitoris.
Until then I hadn’t fully appreciated just how re-aroused she had got from what she had been doing for me, but she must have already been on the very brink of it because in spite of the number I had already given her, it took her hardly any time at all to reach yet another orgasm. After only a minute or so I heard her give a loud gasp, then she threw back her head, and as he entire body arched backwards I watched in amazement at the force of the tremors running through her entire body.
It took both of us some time to completely recover from what we had shared then Katherine suggested I might like a quick shower before heading home. Although I would have preferred not to have to I understood and took the hint, but as I was leaving she gave me a large envelope. ‘Don’t open it until you get home please Craig. I’ll be away for the next few days, so this is just in case you get lonely. Obviously it’s not you, but I’m sure you can imagine it is. Ring me on Sunday evening if you get time.’
It was only when I was getting into my car that the thought struck me. I felt that in some way I had been auditioned! I didn’t know what role I was supposed to play but, if the intensity of pleasure she’d given me was a sample of my reward, I knew I would have no hesitation in taking it.
I replayed the events of the evening and the sensations I’d experienced in my head as I drove home, and in spite of the massive draining she’d given me, felt my cock trying unsuccessfully to come back to life. But when I got indoors and opened the envelope she’d given me I felt a sudden rush of blood surging into it. The photograph was a large one of her hands, doing to someone else’s cock some of what she had so recently done to mine.
But, and even though of course I had never seen my own from such an angle, the one I was looking at gave me more than a twinge of envy. It looked enormous! Both its girth and length were clearly far greater than mine, and although Katherine had said she had been impressed at my performance, I doubted it would stand too much comparison with what a piece of equipment like that would be capable of.
But then I remembered what she’d said when she gave it to me. ‘It’s not you, but I’m sure you can imagine it is.’ I wasn’t too sure about that but although I was too drained to do more than collapse into bed that night, the following evening I found myself staring at it and recalling the things those wonderful, magical hands had made me feel. And when I finally went to bed, with the photograph propped up against the bed-side light I tried to recreate some of those feelings. I couldn’t of course, but although it was nowhere near as powerful, I did give myself a reasonably satisfying climax before drifting off to sleep.
Since child-hood, whenever something of interest caught my eye I had always made drawings or paintings of it, and even if the things that had happened between us had not taken place, her looks alone were so exceptional that I would have wanted to make some of Katherine. But because of those things, and a sort of premonition that this woman was going to be different in other ways too, I opened a brand new sketchbook before attempting even a rough drawing of her.
When I rang her on the Sunday evening we chatted about the gallery opening she had been to, and although she said it had been successful it was clear from the sound of her voice that the trip had also been a tiring one.
I found myself wondering if she had been conducting other auditions while away, and was surprised to find that just the thought of that was immediately followed by a very strong twinge of jealousy.
Having decided to keep the conversation brief I was about to hang up and let her get to bed when she suddenly asked. ‘Did you like the photograph?’
‘Well to be honest I was bit daunted by its size, but of course the photography is brilliant. Who is he?’ I asked, unable to completely hide the note of envy in my voice.
‘That doesn’t matter Craig, and I wouldn’t be too worried about comparisons. But did you find it, well, useful?’
‘It helped.’ I replied cautiously, but then my spirits rose when she said.
‘I thought it might. But I really do want to take some of you, I’m sure they’ll be even better than that one. You will let me, won’t you?’
‘I said I would.’ I answered more brightly.
‘Good. But now, when are we going to meet again?’
‘What about tomorrow evening?’
She gave a deep-throated laugh then said in a slightly mocking tone. ‘So soon, feeling in need of attention are you?’
‘Yes, but I was hoping the feeling might be mutual Katherine.’ I replied with just a little more confidence.
There was a fairly long silence before she replied, but when she did the tone of voice she had used had gone and had been replaced by a huskier one. ‘You could be right Craig. Why don’t I come over there, see where you live. If that’s all right?’
‘Fine, I’ll cook you something to eat. What time?’
‘Is about eight o’clock OK?’
I said it was, gave her the address and an idea of how to get there then we wished each other goodnight and hung up.
My brain immediately went into over-drive, one part of it skimming through the repertoire of dishes I was confident of cooking, another checking what work simply had to be done the next day and what could wait, another thinking about the magical things she had done for me.
Sorting out my work priorities was quick and easy. Then having decided that a seafood pasta followed by fruit and cheese would be appropriate, extremely flavoursome but not too heavy, I made a mental note of what I would need to buy the following morning. That left my brain free to concentrate on recalling the details of the all too brief time Katherine and I had spent together, and trying to imagine what might yet lie ahead.
So by the time I was ready for bed I had an erection that simply refused to die down of its own accord, and with the thoughts and images whirling through my head was in no need of the aid of the photograph she had given me. But the relief I got from jerking myself off was only temporary and my dreams were filled with images of Katherine and I together in a variety of positions and situations.
Chapter 2
*Belinda *
She arrived dead on time and although from the strength of her kisses when I took her in my arms I got the impression she was as hot for me as I was for her, she suggested we eat first. ‘It’s been a long and busy day Craig, and as I’ve had no time for lunch it’ll be much better for both of us, if we curb our other needs for just a little bit longer. Is that OK?’ she asked as she broke free of my encircling arms.
‘Of course, I hope you like what I’ve got cooking.’ I replied, only a little disappointedly.
It was obvious from the relish with which she ate that she was indeed hungry, and also seemed to be enjoying what I had prepared. ‘This is delicious Craig. Finding a man who is both an exciting lover and a good cook is something most women only dream about.’ she said, taking another sip of the wine I had chosen to go with the pasta.
‘Was it one of yours too?’ I asked with a grin.
‘Possibly.’ she replied with a low laugh.
‘Sounds promising then. But before we explore the possible implications of that, tell me about the exhibition.’ I said, not wanting our conversation to get too specific too quickly.
She became quite animated as she gave me a run-down of the details of what had been on show, naming several prominent artists, and a few well thought of critics who had been there. When she then told me she had also sold several items I topped-up our glasses and gave her a congratulatory toast, which made her both laugh and blush with almost girlish delight.
When we had finished and cleared the things away she said she needed to use the bath-room and having shown her where it was I finished tidying up in the kitchen and then went through to my bed-room. I had no sooner turned on the small bed-side light and turned down the bed-cover when she appeared at the door-way.
‘So this is your bed-room.’ she said as she moved past me and stood looking around. ‘I have often thought how lucky we all are that walls can’t actually talk. If they could I bet these would have a few stories.’ she said with a wicked grin, then laughed when I replied.
‘But I bet mine would be nowhere near as interesting as those yours would have to tell.’
‘Ah, I should have guessed.’ she said as a print on the wall opposite my bed caught her eye. ‘Of course you would have a Degas.’ Adding in knowing voice. ‘And I bet I know why it’s hung where it is.’
The picture was classic Degas, of a young, chestnut haired ballerina who was bent double as she retied the laces on her dancing shoes. Although her slender, youthful body was itself quite overtly erotic, for me the key aspect was of course her hands. They were exquisite, very white, with incredibly long fingers, fingers that curled truly sensuously as she manipulated the laces. But of course whenever I looked at the picture I imagined those fingers curling around something quite different, imagined their slender softness gently curling around my cock.
‘I imagine that’s been used more times than you can count.’
‘True, it’s helped me through many a lonely period. I’m very fond of her.’
‘She does have really beautiful hands, have you given her a name.’
‘Belinda.’
‘Not exactly French, but I like it, she looks like a Belinda.’ she said, turning to face me, then adding as she moved closer and slipped her arms around me. But although I’m sure she’s very good with her hands why don’t we try the real thing instead.’
Much later, when we had completely both sated and exhausted each other and were quietly lying side by side, she said. ‘Tell me about your fantasies, with Belinda I mean. How long have you had the print?’
‘Oh, years now, it was given to me by an ex girl-friend.’
‘Really!’
‘Yes, as a sort of parting gift. Although we’d never discussed it she twigged to my preference, she thought I was weird and decided to cut her losses. Left this parcel outside my door with a short, very sarcastic note attached.’
Katherine gave a low chuckle. ‘Well at least she left you something she not only knew you would like, but would also find useful.’ she added with a laugh. ‘I think I would have liked her.’
‘She was a very strong willed lady, she liked to dominate, and not just in bed.’
‘You can tell me about her another time, let’s get back to Belinda. Who is she? In your fantasies I mean.’
‘That varies, most often she’s the friend of one of my nieces, Susan, they attend the same ballet class and Belinda lives not far from my sister and brother-in-law’s place. They go overseas for a couple of weeks, on business and can’t take Susan with them, so because the hall where she has her classes is just a few streets away from here, they have asked me to collect the two girls a couple of times a week and give them a lift home.’
‘How old is she? Belinda I mean.’
‘She’s usually a year or two older than my niece, just turned eighteen.’
‘Usually?’
‘Sometimes she’s just a little bit younger, not often.’ I added guiltily.
‘When she is, does that change what you do together?’
‘Not really, just what we say to each other and how I feel about us doing it.’
‘Feeling a bit guilty adds excitement to the experience?’
‘Mmm, yes it does.’
‘Unlike the girl who gave you the picture, I’d like to hear what happens in some of your fantasies Craig, will you share that with me?’
‘If you’d like me to, yes.’
‘I mean tell me everything, in full detail, lots of juicy four letter words please.’
So I did as she asked and started by saying. ‘First I’ll tell you how it all begins.
It was the second week of Susan’s parents’ trip, I had arrived a bit early and as the class was still going and because it’s a very small hall the only place to stand waiting is against one of the side walls.
Nothing happened the first week, I picked up the girls and drove Susan and then Belinda home. The first evening Susan sat in front and Belinda in the back, so I only caught occasional glimpses of her through the rear-view mirror, but even so, I thought something about her face was vaguely familiar. For most of the trip the girls were so busy chatting about the evening’s work they said virtually nothing to me, until Susan said thank-you when she got out. Then, although Belinda didn’t live far from Susan, she said the route was complicated, so she got into the front seat to guide me - and that’s when I noticed her hands.
I have always loved Degas’ work, mainly because he was such a master at painting the girls’ hands, and when I saw Belinda’s face in profile I immediately knew where I had seen her before, in this picture of the dancer tying her laces.
On and off during the next couple of days I found myself thinking about her, about her hands I mean, and, so I’d have a chance to have a proper look at the rest of her when I went to pick them up the next evening I got there a little earlier than necessary.
Because she is a little older than most of the other girls Belinda is not only a bit taller but her figure is more developed, and although I try not to, I find it hard to keep my eyes off her. Both she and Susan obviously see me arrive but although after giving me a quick smile Susan’s attention returns to what she is doing, I notice that Belinda keeps glancing across to where I’m standing.
Then, during the drive to Susan’s place, it’s clear she is doing her best to include me in their chatter, from time to time giving me a knowing smile when Susan seems determined to just prattle on. This time it’s Susan who is sitting in the back of the car so I have a better chance to see Belinda’s hands. They really are extraordinarily beautiful, long, slenderly tapering fingers and skin very much like yours, so white it’s almost translucent, allowing the veins running along their backs to show clearly through. But, again just like yours, they are not just beautiful to look at, I discover that when she uses them to highlight what she is saying they are also very expressive.
After I dropped Susan off Belinda made a comment as to how difficult men must find such childish babble, then, although I was concentrating on remembering the complex route, I got the feeling she was watching me, closely.
But she said very little during the rest of the drive and apart from giving me a rather wistful smile when we arrived and she thanked me for the lift, she got out and disappeared indoors.
Again I found myself thinking about her during the intervening days, picturing her as she sat in the car with me, feeling her watching me. And then picturing her hands, imagining what delightful things such beautiful, expressive hands could do for me.
So it’s not surprising that the next time I again arrived a little earlier than necessary, and took the opportunity to watch Belinda’s lithe but shapely body in action. Then the class came to an end and Susan came over and asked if I would mind waiting a bit longer. She explained that they have been rehearsing for an end of year show for the girls’ parents and the instructor wanted a run through with the girls having principal roles, and Belinda is one of those. I said it wasn’t a problem and while Susan went off to get her things, I continued to stand watching.
It wasn’t a dress rehearsal but even without costumes it was immediately clear from the music and the girls’ movements that the piece had an oriental theme, so there was even more arm and hand movement than there would be in a classical work. When Belinda started dancing I became quite mesmerised by her movements and then found myself again imagining what her hands might feel like. So it wasn’t long before I realised I was developing a hard-on and by the time they came to the end of the piece I had a full-blown erection. Although I tried to make it less obvious by discretely adjusting its position I wasn’t sure that I had been completely successful.
Anyway, the girls finished, collected their things and with Belinda again sitting in front next to me we got on our way. After I dropped Susan off Belinda asked if I liked the piece she was rehearsing. I told her I liked it very much and that I would like to see it in costume.
‘It’s quite different to what we normally do, you know, classical stuff. It’s much more sensual, quite sexy don’t you think?’ she asked.
I said I agreed and then she said. ‘Could I ask a very personal question?’
I had no idea what was coming and told her she could, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the question she asked.
‘Did you get aroused during the piece? I mean, you know, physically.’
To cover my embarrassment I blustered something about that being a bit too personal, but she said I was being silly and I suppose I thought I really had no choice but to say that I did. At that she gave me a broad grin and said. ‘I thought so, I didn’t think I was wrong about what was causing the bulge in the front of your trousers, it really was very obvious. Did you get that from just watching me?’
‘Yes I did, you’re very attractive, and have beautiful hands.’ I blurted.
I could tell from the tone in her voice that she was as surprised by my reply as I had been by her initial question. ‘Beautiful hands? You were watching my hands?’
‘Yes, as well as being beautiful they’re very expressive. Their movements were, well, almost hypnotic.’ I add.
‘And you got an erection from just watching them?’
‘Mmm, yes I did.’
‘That’s amazing!’ she gasped. ‘I thought you were probably thinking about something else, but you were just thinking about me jerking you off, weren’t you?’
The explicitness of her language took me by surprise and I could only nod in reply.
She paused for a moment, obviously considering something, then, as she edged closer, she said in a much softer, lower tone. ‘Would you like me to actually do that?’
I was still wrestling with how to answer her when she quite literally took matters into her own hands, leaning across and pushing both of them down between my legs. Although the erection I’d got in the hall had obviously lost some of its rigidity, having her next to me in the car had kept my cock hard, and the moment her hands closed over it I felt fresh blood surging into it.
She must have felt the movement and pulling my leg to one side with one hand, she pressed the other down more firmly, trying unsuccessfully to curl her fingers around the shaft. ‘I’d really like to do it for you, so why don’t you just find somewhere quiet to pull over.’ she said.
I did as she suggested and that was the first time, in the car. While I was unzipping and pushing down my trousers and pants she got some tissues out of her bag and then without any fuss, very efficiently got me off.’
‘That doesn’t sound very exciting.’ Katherine said.
‘No, the first time isn’t, I don’t go back to it very often. But in my head it sort of, well, sets the scene I suppose. Explains how all the others come about. If you know what I mean.’
‘Yes I do. But now tell me about what else happens, and remember, I want all the juicy details please.’
‘I’d better explain something about her background first. Belinda doesn’t have a father, well at least he doesn’t live with them, it’s just she and her mother. Naturally her mother has to work and occasionally her job keeps her late, so that creates opportunities for Belinda and I to be together. Sometimes she comes to my place after school, less often I go to hers, and sometimes we go out somewhere. But most of the time we meet at the rehearsal hall. If Belinda wants to do some extra practice she will stay on after everyone else has gone and because she is older the teacher trusts her to lock-up afterwards. On those evenings she rings me and when she asks if I can give her a lift home, I know the coast will be clear for us.
She usually likes to dance for me for a while, telling me to take my clothes off first, so she can watch my reaction to her, see how long it takes me to get an erection. She has previously told me how much she likes to see it growing, getting longer and fatter, then getting harder and slowly jerking upwards. Told me how excited she always gets when she watches it getting bigger, that she likes the feeling she gets from the fact that it’s her that’s making me react so strongly.
Then after we have been seeing each other for quite some time she adds an extra dimension to what we are doing by leaving her tights off. Of course at first I don’t know she has done that, she’s wearing a diaphanous skirt, but its long and pretty full and as I’m busy watching her hands and the rest of her body I don’t notice that her legs are bare.
At first she’s careful to dance in a quite restrained style, but then she does a fast but particularly energetic spin, which make the skirt whirl upwards, and as it does I get a momentary flash of her bare bottom.
My initial reaction is to suppose I have made a mistake, thinking she must be wearing a particularly sheer pair of tights. Of course even that idea is arousing. But when she does a more complicated move, holding the hem of her skirt as she turns while lifting one leg really high, I see the dark brown patch of pubic hair, and get a glimpse of her pussy.
Her eyes are fixed on my cock and she gives a tense smile when she sees the strength of my reaction, then tells me to sit on a nearby chair so I have a better angle to see her from.
Having discarded the skirt she dances for me, her lower half completely naked, flaunting herself proudly, doing everything she can think of that will show her pussy off to me. Just watching her is unbelievably exciting, I can feel my heart pounding, and the blood surging through my veins. And of course my cock is behaving like a wild thing, throbbing and jerking about quite uncontrollably.
She tells me later that it’s doubly exciting for her. There’s the excitement of seeing my response, seeing my cock getting so massively engorged, reacting so powerfully. But she tells me she also gets a real kick from having me looking at her pussy, finds it exciting to be showing herself off like that.’
‘I would too.’ Katherine said softly.
‘I beg your pardon?’ I said, not sure I’d heard her properly.
‘I said I would find that exciting too, showing myself off to you like that.’
‘Really?’
‘Mmm, but let’s talk about that later, please carry on with your fantasy, I like it.’
‘OK. Let’s see. Of course she’s not naked every time but whether she is or not, and just like you, she likes to tease me. She not only makes her movements really raunchy but sometimes uses other tricks too. For instance, when she’s dressed in her tutu she dances closer, making the edge of the stiffened lace graze the head of my cock each time she pirouettes in front of me, things like that.
But whatever she does she always watches my cock really intently, and although normally I’m not allowed to touch myself, sometimes she’ll ask me to, ask me to stroke it, but tells me to do it very, very slowly. And she always makes me wait a long time before she finally touches me with her hands. Then what she does to me depends on how she feels at the time. Sometimes, if she knows she has teased me beyond endurance, she’ll do it really quickly, but usually not, she usually prefers to do it slowly, watching the effect she has on me as the pressure inside me grows stronger and stronger.’
‘Apart from having her handle you, do you ever do anything else with her?’ Katherine asked.
‘Sometimes.’ I replied.
‘What sort of things? Do you have sex with her?’
‘Not very often, there have been times when she has really needed me to. I usually either get her off with my hand, or go down on her. What sometimes happens is that when she starts to handle me I tell her how wonderfully soft her fingers are. Then when she replies - ‘There are parts of me that are even softer.’ - that’s when I know she wants me to do it for her.’
‘When you do have sex with her, is she a virgin?’
‘Not physically, but I am the first man she’s had sex with.’
‘And where does it happen?’
‘The first time?’
‘Yes.’
‘In the rehearsal hall. She was dressed like that.’ I said, pointing to the picture.
‘Ah, of course, tell me about that time please.’
‘Although I had no idea what it was I knew from the way she went about getting me aroused that time that she had something different in mind, something planned. She kept me waiting even longer than usual, getting me even more steamed-up. When I felt I just couldn’t take any more she told me what she wanted She said. ‘I want to know what it feels like, what it feels like to have it inside me, and especially what it feels like when you come.’ And what happened next confirmed my suspicion that she had planned the whole thing.’
‘How?’
‘First I must explain that although the hall was used by all sorts of people, for a variety of activities, on one wall the ballet teacher had got them to install a short length of exercise bar, and so the girls could check their movements, there’s a full length mirror behind it. Belinda took my hand and led me down to that end of the hall, then, facing the mirror, she bent forward and put my hand up between her legs. I could feel her, her pussy I mean, there was nothing between it and my fingers, and it was wet, warm and wet.
As I had previously seen the low shimmer from her tights I was confused, confused but thrilled, she told me later that she had carefully cut the crotch out of them, so we wouldn’t have to waste time getting her dancing gear off.’
‘Smart girl.’ Katherine said with a low chuckle. ‘She not only knew what she wanted and how to get it, she also didn’t want to risk giving you time for any second thoughts.’
‘I still had a few of those, but they vanished when she positioned herself. Holding on to the bar with both hands, she spread her legs wide apart then bent herself even lower, and as she lifted her arse she said. ‘Do it this way Craig.’
‘Was she good, I mean as a virgin performer?’
‘Well by then I was so steamed up I don’t think it would have mattered whether she was or not, but yes she was. But even though I was as wound up as I was and I was very tempted to simply use her to get myself off as quickly as possible, I didn’t. At that stage I only suspected it was her first time, I didn’t know for sure, but even so I wanted to make it good for her too.
Her pussy was incredibly tight and if she hadn’t been so aroused, so wet, I might have had trouble getting fully inside her, but after a bit of effort I did. Then I held myself there while I reached one arm around her and found her clit, gently rubbing it as I began to move my cock slowly back and forth.
She started squealing with delight almost immediately, then as what my fingers and cock were doing steadily increased her excitement, her cries turned to moaning gasps and she tried to force me deeper by pushing herself back at me. Her first climax came remarkably quickly, and I ignored what was going on inside myself, just continuing what I had been doing until I felt its impact waning. Then, recognising that any more direct stimulation of her clit might start irritating her, I gripped her hips with both hands, and finally started to fuck her.
Her reaction was immediate and amazingly powerful. She started to push herself even more forcefully back on to my cock, crying. ‘Yes! Oh yes, that’s what I want now! Get it deeper inside me! Do it harder, much harder!’
By then I was more than happy to do what she wanted, and felt her body opening up for me as I began to thrust deeper. Although the passage itself became less constricted her pussy’s grip of my cock still remained incredibly tight but I gave her at least one more orgasm before mine hit me and she had another as I began pumping semen into her. Then when we were finally done she told me how wonderful the experience had been. ‘Even through everything else that was happening to me I could feel you coming.’ she said excitedly. ‘I could actually feel your jism squirting into me!’
‘You like to know that, do you?’ Katherine asked, her voice bringing me back to reality.
‘I suppose so, but I’m not sure why.’
‘Maybe it confirms your climax is actually as strong as it feels it is to you.’
‘Yes maybe that’s it. Or maybe it’s a way of letting me know the woman got as much out of it as I did.’
‘Whatever the reason, I’ll remember you like that. And I like your fantasies about Belinda, thank you for sharing some of them with me. But now, how about concentrating on reality for a bit.’ she added before turning to kiss me.
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