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From: Philip Harris <pharris_online@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 19 Sep 2003 09:24:50 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: {ASSM} Kim (MF, F-solo, light bd)
Date: Fri, 19 Sep 2003 20:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Kim.txt" begin>
Kim (MF,F-solo,light bd)
by Philip Harris
Kim's story: A lot of boys were after me when I was a
teenager because my breasts were big, my hair was blonde,
and I was pretty cute. Besides, I was friendly toward
them. I smiled, and made myself approachable and acted
"girlie" and told them they were clever even when they said
stupid things. I liked to talk dirty, too, which seemed to
draw boys to me.
By the time I was 15 my boobs were overflowing my blouses
and it felt so good when boys touched me that I just sort
of let them do it. Soon there was a lot of pressure on me
to go all the way. I wanted to wait a few years, but
pretty soon I gave into one boy--it just sort of happened--
and after that I kind of felt I'd be selfish if I didn't
give into other boys too. My high school years seemed like
constant sex, sex, sex. I didn't have time for any
schoolwork at all.
After finishing high school I got a job as a receptionist,
and that was the first time I had sex with an older guy.
Mr. Bartoni wasn't really old--I think he was maybe 35. He
treated me pretty well and let me take days off whenever I
wanted and mostly I just had to give him oral and let him
make his "daily check on the twins," as he called it.
Having boobs seemed a lot better than having brains, in
those days.
Then I started putting on weight. My metabolism changed,
or something. I was never a skinny girl, but from about
age 19 I started getting heavy in a lot of places. Boys
were still friendly toward me, but they stopped calling me
up for dates. I remember the first time a boy didn't want
to have sex with me; our date ended early and I found
myself at home alone, crying. I felt terrible about myself
after that and promised myself that I was going to slim
down, but I just kept gaining weight.
That was the beginning of a long dry spell for me. It was
as if all the boys and men in the world were through with
me. Mr. Bartoni wasn't even playing with the twins
anymore, and soon afterward he let me go from my job.
I found other jobs after than, and learned to spend my
evenings alone at home, comforted by a dildo. I still
had a passion for sex. I really needed it. I became a
frequent masturbator. I'll tell the truth: I did it at
least once almost every night. Some nights I did it a lot
more than once.
I had fantasies of living with a dominant man, of being very
sexually submissive toward him. He'd make me dress in only
a nightie around the house, with no underwear so that he
could always see through to my bare boobs and pussy. And
he would always be touching and caressing them--possessing
them. Just in passing through the kitchen he'd stop and
cop a feel, squeezing my boobs, and then reaching between
my legs, finger-teasing me and chastising me if I wasn't
sex-ready.
But that was all fantasy; my own fingers were the only
touch I felt. And I was ALWAYS sex-ready.
I lived like that for a couple of years--on my own, very
lonely at home.
When I was 23 I decided that I'd better go back to school.
I started going to college at night. There were dreamy-
looking boys all around; their trousers bulged. But the
other girls were terribly pretty and skinny and young. I
smiled and was nice to everybody, but it ate me up inside
with envy whenever I'd see a tall boy whispering to a
pretty girl, holding her shoulders as he talked to her,
their body language conveying that later that night she'd
be getting exactly what I very desperately needed.
Then in my senior year I had to take a graduate class
because an undergraduate class I needed was filled. The
graduate students were different. Most of them were older.
Many of the women were mothers, their bodies rounded and
chubby. The men were older too, losing their hair, and
some with bellies.
One guy who sat next to me was very friendly. We clicked
right away. He was okay looking--not great--eight years
older than me, and a bit chubby himself. The first evening
of class was on a hot day in September and I wore a low-cut
blouse. I saw right away that he was sneaking peeks at my
cleavage. He was pretty clumsy about it, looking down my
blouse so far it was comical.
After class I went home and--well I'll confess that I was
rather bad--I dildoed myself three times that night.
The next week we both took the same seats in class and we
talked to one another quite a bit. It went on like that
for several weeks, with us talking, him x-raying me with
his eyes, me being naughty at home, but nothing else
happening. Then just before the midterm exam I told to him
that I needed help with my studying.
"Would you like to study together after class?" he asked.
We studied in the library, and then I asked him over to my
apartment for more studying on Saturday afternoon, and he
accepted.
That was on a Tuesday night. All that week I was busy with
my dildo. I kept fantasizing about how I should approach
him. I thought about simply meeting him at the door in a
sheer nightie, explaining, "Oh, this is the way I always
dress when I'm at home. It's comfortable." But I didn't
even own a sheer nightie.
I thought that maybe I should say that I always study in
bed. At that point in my life just having a man in my
bedroom and on my bed with me would be a thrill. I
fantasized about us locking eyes, sweeping our textbooks
off the bed, kissing passionately, then undressing, and
fucking like beasts. That fantasy got me off three times
on Tuesday night.
I even thought about somehow getting some Viagra and
slipping it into a Coke for him. I wonder if that would
work? Can you imagine a man in a woman's bedroom, on her
bed, suddenly getting an erection totally beyond his
control!
Would that drive him wild with lust? "No, no, please
don't," I'd plead as he pins me down to the bed and forces
his hands inside my clothes. "You're raping me, you're
raping me," I'd cry as he forces his Viagra-crazed cock
between my kicking legs. On Wednesday night I dildoed my
pussy numb with that fantasy.
No, a gentler approach would be wiser. While we're
studying, I'll just reach between his legs and casually
stroke his cock bulge, without saying anything. "What are
you doing?" he'd ask, but I wouldn't say a word. I'd just
continue coaxing. "Don't you want to study?" he'd say.
"Don't you want to fuck?" I'd answer. On Thursday I tried
that gentle approach between my own legs and it certainly
worked for me.
On Friday night I realized that my boobs had been his most
obvious interest. I tried several T-shirts, with bra and
no bra, and some plunging-neckline blouses. Standing
before my mirror in panties and bra I didn't like the body
that I saw, but my panties were soaked with hopeful
anticipation. I began to feel desperate--I really needed
service from this man. I tried to control myself, but
within ten minutes I was back to self-servicing. I wonder
if men ever get so desperate?
On Saturday I decided upon a tight T-shirt torn in front to
slow a slutty amount of cleavage, with my bounciest bra
underneath. All morning and into the afternoon I waited
anxiously for him to arrive. At the very last minute I
panicked when I realized that I had absolutely no birth
control in the house. It had been so long that I'd thrown
out my old diaphragm, and I didn't have any condoms or
anything. Was there time for a quick run to the drugstore?
No, I didn't want to risk not being home when he arrived.
I decided that I wanted it so much that I for the first
time since high school I was going to go bareback.
To my tremendous relief he was exactly prompt. He was
dressed more causally than at school. He wore shorts and a
T-shirt. He looked cute, but I was momentarily
disappointed that he hadn't dressed up for a date. He was
carrying his schoolbag. I had kind of hoped that he'd have
plans to take me out after studying. I felt disappointed,
and immediately abandoned my plan of taking him into my
bedroom to study, as being too obvious. I felt a sinking
feeling that this "study date" wouldn't work out as I'd
hoped.
But when he came into the apartment his eyes immediately
gave me the full-body x-ray, with an extra gawk at my
boobs.
"Do you live alone Kim?" he asked, looking about my
apartment.
"Yes," I said.
He put down his schoolbag and suddenly grabbed my boobs
through my T-shirt, pulling me to him by them. He kissed
me full on the mouth, squeezing my breasts powerfully.
"I don't know what you had planned," he said, "but you're
going to spend the afternoon fucking instead of studying."
He kissed my mouth again before I could answer him. I was
completely taken aback, but recovered my wits quickly and
returned his kiss.
"My bedroom is that way," I said as soon as my mouth was
free, but he pushed me over to my couch and sat me down.
"We'll fuck in every room," he said, "but we'll start here.
Show me your boobs first."
I quickly pulled my T-shirt off over my head and unhooked
my bra, releasing the twins. He took handfuls immediately
and twisted them painfully.
"You've been teasing me with these from the first day,
haven't you?" he demanded. "Haven't you, you slut!"
I didn't expect this from him at all, he seemed so mild
mannered in class. He was truly hurting me--cruelly.
"Yes, yes," I said.
"You're a slut aren't you? You love being fucked, don't
you?" He let go of my breasts and immediately pinched my
nipples, jerking them upward so roughly that I jumped out
of my seat.
"Yes," I said.
He jerked my nipples downward, forcing me to sit again.
"Say that you're a slut and you love to be fucked," He
demanded.
"I'm a slut." I said. "I love to be fucked."
"You're too rough," I added. "Ahh!"
The last was a scream of pain as he pinched my nipples and
jerked them so hard it felt like he was trying to rip them
off as souvenirs.
"Take off your pants and fuck yourself while I watch," he
demanded.
I stripped off my jeans double-quick, dropping my panties
at the same time, and started rubbing my clit.
"Spread your legs and show me," he said. "Finger-fuck
yourself. Show me that you want to be fucked. Show me
penetration."
I did as he asked, spreading my legs and finger-fucking
myself there on the couch. I'd done this hundreds of
times, but never while being watched. He was being far too
rough with me, but it was an incredible turn-on to be made
to do this.
"Don't cum," he said, "but fuck yourself faster." He
released my nipples and the sudden end to the pain felt
terrific.
"Fuck yourself faster and harder, but don't cum," he said.
He began undressing in front of me while I sat spread-
legged before him, my boobs bouncing as I finger-fucked
myself frantically.
"That's it, that's it," he urged. "Do it more."
"I have to cum," I pleaded.
"Don't you dare!" he said. "From now on you only cum when
I say that you can. If you're alone here and you need to
cum, then you call me and ask me and you let me listen to
you do it."
"Stop now," he said, just in time, just as I nearly
exploded from stimulation.
"Please don't be so rough with me," I begged him. "I'll do
whatever you say. I want to fuck you. I wanted to fuck
you tonight."
"Stroke my cock," he said, sitting himself naked beside me
on the couch.
I stroked his cock with my vagina-juiced hand. It felt
marvelous, the first cock I'd touched in years. His body
was not great but I felt ecstatic to be having real sex
again.
He fondled my boobs, gently this time, while he kissed my
lips, then his mouth went down to my nipples while his
fingers entered my pussy. We played with each other on the
couch for a long while. He kept me near climax for a long
while, making me say, "there, there" and "fuck me, fuck me,"
to indicate when I was right on the cusp of cumming.
He came from my hand job, which was a disappointment because
I wanted him to cum inside me first. His cum shot onto my
carpet, and some of it splooged onto my coffee table. He
made me wipe the rest of it onto my boobs, and then lick it
off. He slapped me cruelly on the left nipple when I tried
to rub a little of it into my pussy.
When I'd tongue-cleaned my boobs, he took some handcuffs
from his schoolbag and made me put my hands behind my back.
"No, please," I pleaded. "I'll do anything, but please
don't use handcuffs." He used them anyway, and now I was
naked on my couch with my hands bound behind my back.
He reached into his schoolbag again and I heard tiny
jingling bells.
"Oh no, please, please," I pleaded again when he took some
clamps with Christmas bells on them from his schoolbag.
"Please, I don't like to be hurt."
He tightened a small clamp upon each of my nipples,
stopping just short of hurting me. The bells jingled
merrily whenever my boobs jiggled.
"I'll tighten them when you've gotten used to them," he
said, "now kiss me to show your willingness."
He kissed my mouth for a long time, but while he was doing
that he reached beneath us and tightened each of the nipple
clamps until tears came to my eyes. He flicked the bells
to make them jingle gaily.
"Please loosen them," I asked when he stopped kissing me.
He grabbed the little bells with his fingers, tugging on
them, which made the clamps hurt much more.
"This is to establish our relationship," he said. "You
give me pleasure, and I choose whether to give you pleasure
or pain; understand?"
"Yes, yes, yes," said as he turned each clamp a little bit
tighter and shook my boobs to make them jingle again.
Then he put me over his knee and spanked my bare bottom
until it was a sore as my jangling nipples.
"Now you're going to cum for me," he said, while I was
still upside down over his knee. He began rubbing my pussy
up and down very gently. I was already very aroused, but
my pussy was overworked from before. He deliberately under
stimulated me. "Let yourself cum, let yourself cum," he
coaxed.
Very gradually he increased my stimulation. He'd slow or
stop whenever he saw that I was again near climax. He
penetrated me with his fingers and pressed his fingertips
against my G-spot, making me confess where it is. He
pressed hard, pressing his thumb against my clit too. Soon
I was moaning with frustrated need for climax. No man had
ever done this to me before. All the men I'd had when I
was younger simply got themselves off quickly and let me
cum naturally.
"Are you ready to cum for me?" he asked.
"Yes, please, please," I said.
"Jingle your bells to let me know that you want to cum."
I shook my boobs back and forth to make the bells ring for
him.
"Okay," he said. He took his fingers from my pussy and
pushed me off his lap. "Find a way to make yourself cum,"
he said.
I was naked, achingly horny, desperate, but with my hands
still bound behind my back. I thought of my dildo, and
headed for the bedroom with him following along behind me
as my boobs jingled the way. Using my hands behind my back
I opened my bedside table drawer and took out my dildo,
turning on the vibrator.
"Will you please take down the coverlet from the bed?" I
asked him, "I don't want to ruin it."
"You have to do this all yourself," he told me.
I carefully placed the dildo on my bedside table, where the
vibrator drummed against the wooden tabletop. Working
backwards, I pulled the coverlet and blankets down from the
bed, stripping it to the sheets. Then I placed the
vibrator upon the bed and climbed in beside it. For a
minute I rolled about futilely, eventually getting myself
into a sitting position with the vibrator against my clit.
He watched amused as I hip-humped the vibrator, my boobs
shaking and jingling, and pitiful moans escaping my mouth
until I finally came for him, my wetness spreading through
the sheets.
I'd fantasized all week about cumming while he fucked me,
but he'd made me cum to my dildo again.
"Will you please take the bells off my boobs," I pleaded.
"My nipples are very sensitive and they hurt awfully."
"I love the way you moan to the bell chorus when you cum,"
he said, "and I want to hear you do it again."
He joined me on my bed, spreading my legs and bringing his
face between them. I'd craved this pleasure for years. He
used only his tongue on me, very skillfully, making me moan
and jingle in orgasm for a very long time.
"What's the most times you've ever cum in one night?" he
asked as he wiped his face clean between my boobs.
"Three times," I lied. I had to taste myself on his lips
and tongue as he kissed me. Just to make sure, he dipped a
finger into my pussy and then put it in my mouth.
"I'd much rather taste you," I told him.
He got into 69 position, but this time he only finger-
teased my pussy, while I sucked his absolutely delicious
cock with enthusiasm. In one afternoon he was giving me
many things that I'd craved and craved for a long while.
He pulled his cock out before cumming. "Are you ready for
me to fuck you?" he asked.
"Very ready! Please fuck me!" I pleaded. "But could you
please take the bells off my nipples? They hurt!"
He jiggled my breasts again as he mounted between my legs.
"I like you wearing the bells while we're having sex," he
said. "You'll have to have them clamped on until you get
your nipples pierced with rings for me, okay?"
I didn't want to do that, but he was teasing my pussy with
the tip of his cock and I was desperate for pleasure.
"Okay," I said.
He was a very good fuck and it felt wonderful to have him
cum inside me. I'd always been afraid of becoming
pregnant, but the feeling was so good that I simply didn't
care. I wanted him to cum in me--a lot. He was being very
cruel to me, and I was falling deeply in love with him.
He undid the bells while he was laying on top of me
afterward, his cock still inside me. It felt so good! My
boobs felt so good, my pussy felt so good! I felt very
satisfied by having his cum inside me. It wouldn't have
felt nearly as complete if he'd used protection.
"Thank you, thank you," I told him sincerely, forgiving him
his cruelty in my relief from pain and frustration.
He stayed all that night and until late the next afternoon,
and he never let me put any clothes on. I couldn't walk
across the room without him feeling my breasts or caressing
my pussy. We fucked six times, and me made me cum a lot
more often than that. He made me dildo myself while he
watched, he fingered me while making me stand up against a
wall, he handcuffed me and belled me and made me bed-fuck
the vibrator again.
He put me outside of my apartment naked and made me stand
in the hall like that for ten minutes, frightened out of my
wits that somebody might come along and see me. "Just for
fun I'm going to make you walk naked across campus some
night, just to see how many guys rape you," he teased.
Holding my naked body to him felt very good. He hugged and
held and caressed and coaxed me almost constantly throughout
the whole weekend. He spanked me often, and tied me up
sometimes, but more often he kissed and fondled me kindly.
He made me be sexual to myself and to him continually.
That was last weekend. Now it's Monday night and he's left
me alone. I can't wait to see him in class tomorrow evening,
and I'm dying for him to come over again next weekend. Now
I've got my dildo out and I'm very horny, but I've got to wait
for him to get home from work so that I can phone him and ask
his permission to make myself cum while he listens.
-end-
More stories by Philip Harris can be found on http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/pharris/www/.
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