lisa
- 4 years ago
- 45
- 0
I suppose that it was pure chance, a lucky throw of the dice, and a case of right time, right place, that I met Lisa. The circumstances were hardly usual; in fact shock was possibly the first reaction she evinced from me. Definitely shock. Intrigue and wanton lust also added to the brew of emotions that she caused. The experience of her though, was a life-changing event, one that would never ever diminish in the memory and would alter my perspective on life from that time onwards.
I had been called by a man who's name reminded me of an out-board motor. Popolopoulous or something similar, merely trying to pronounce his name sounded like a four-horse-powered engine on the back of a little boat. He wanted a full survey of the outside walls of his house in Maida Vale. A few days later, armed with digital camera and measuring beam, I was "on site", taking notes and sketching the layout of the building. He had an idea he wanted to build a carport on the side with provision for a vine to grow over a steel trellis.
An electronic controlled gate separated them from the busy road that ran through to Paddington Green. From the street level, it was not possible to see the property, completely hidden by the dense growth of honeysuckle that draped over the top of the slatted wooden fence over a raised brick wall. Once inside the front garden and with the gate shut, London and its snaking and pollutant traffic were shut out completely. Not even the roar of diesel engines or the whine of small motorbikes penetrated over or through the barrier of brick, timber and foliage.
The house and its grounds were a sanctuary of quietitude. Closely mown lawn, laid in concentric arcs, split by gravel paths and brick built raise flowerbeds flowed like waves of alternate green, grey and colourful waves up to a Carrerra marble portico with three step as a demarcation from the gravel covered drive that swung in a graceful sweep from the gate at the north side to another supposed gate at the south end.
The starkness of the marble contrasted with the deep redness of a clay-brick, two-storey height, Georgian front house with symmetrical bow front windows at ground floor level, on either side of the portico.
My professional eye dated the place and took in the condition of the house. Although it wasn't a remarkable property for the area, the level of maintenance and quality probably added a couple of hundred thousand to the purchase price. I orientated my self and walked along the gravel drive to the right hand side, or south facing gable as it turned out to be. It was at a gap between the gabled end and the partition wall that separated the neighbouring property that the client wanted to erect the carport, under a mature London Plane tree that offered shade.
Measuring and pacing took only a little while and then a quick sketch took a short while longer. Engrossed I missed the small, half opened sash window at the side. Music coming from the raised bottom half first attracted my attention and then, my curiosity, because I was supposed to be on the premises alone.
I ignored it, marking the position for when I measured that section of wall to precisely plot the chimney flue that protruded on the flank.
I suppose I forgot about the window, letting the music drift into background noise until I got to that section, between the front corner and the chimney flue where the window broke up the uniform brickwork set in a Flemish bond.
The open window was at eye level. The music became recognisable as something by Rachmaninov. A heavy scent came from the gap at the bottom sash and as I approached, a softer noise under the notes of music. I hooked the end of the tape to the corner of the house and stretched ti to the box of the window. It was at that point I saw her and the tape unhooked and sprang back as if it wanted to eat my trapped fingers. I hardly noticed the sharp pain.
She lay on the floor at an oblique angle, naked. Her paleness was in stark contrast to the dark floor covering. Golden hair flailed out and spread over the carpet as if a cushion was under her head. She lay on her back, knees drawn up while her busy fingers pinched and pulled at She moaned slightly and her head rolled from side to side in a languid rocking motion. Small moans of pleasure escaped from her parted lips.
I couldn't gauge her age from my vantage point. She appeared to be young, perhaps in her teens, but difficult to determine. Both hands were engaged in pleasuring her nipples. Stroking them in loving fingertip swirls and then pulling the tips cruelly up between thumbs and forefingers, which drew a moan from her throat.
She was beautiful. That much was plainly evident. Slender and hairless at her pubic mound. Her face, even in a rictus of pleasure, was unmarked, flawless and lost to the intense sensation her nimble fingers were causing.
Her eyes were closed and her perfectly even and white teeth were biting her lower lip. She drew breath sharply through them as she pinched her hardened and deeply reddened teats and her long neck arched, forcing her shoulders off the floor and pushing her breasts forward as if enticing her fingers to punish the little nerve centres further.
One hand travelled in small circles over the skin of her flat stomach, while the other fell almost lifelessly to the floor at her side. Her knees straightened and her legs parted slightly.
Anticipation was adding to my already painful arousal. I visualised what she was about to do and the excitement went immediately to my engorged cock. From my vantage point, I could see her vulva, slick with her juices and swelling with mounting need. I wanted, no, actually needed to plunge into her body, possess it, ride her and bury my myself between her parted thighs, but as any voyeur, I remained a silent witness to her self pleasuring, frightened that any slight movement or noise would spoil the magic of the unfolding scene before me. Besides, I knew well enough that, contrary to the popular male belief that a woman in such a position would, upon spying her audience, invite him in to join in, my intrusion would end in my eviction, most likely with a stream of verbal abuse.
Her fingertips had found her moistened lips and parted them slightly. It seemed she was being careful not to touch that most sensitive nub of nerve endings, perhaps leaving it till she was ready, or delaying the moment in self-torture. Carefully her tips separated the swollen lips and her forefinger slipped easily between to disappear into the hidden canal beyond.
Another sharp intake of breath announced her invasion of her pleasure pool. The single finger entered and exited in a slow, rhythmic tempo that matched her breathing. She unfolded a second finger and it accompanied the other in its travels into her depths that were hidden from me in shadow.
The pace increased and her back arched as her pleasure mounted. Her fingers fucked her hairless sex in a relentless and increasingly bruising drive towards an orgasm. Her chest rose in staccato as her breathing became ragged. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her parted lips. Her head thrashed from side to side with her eyes screwed tightly shut.
She lifted her passive hand from the floor and a finger slid straight to her budding clit. The first touch brought forth a rasping gasp that seemed as if it must tear her throat. Mercilessly she rubbed her self while finger fucking herself. The torment to her clit was becoming a rapid tattoo, her legs quivered in uncontrolled rapture. Cries escaped her lips as her orgasm approached. Then she pinched her clit, drawing it forward, pinching the sensitive bud bringing a sharp gasp of indrawn breath between her clenched teeth as if her fingers were red hot and she had burned herself and then, a scream that climbed through an octave shattered the air and she squirted her slickness over and between her fingers to pool on the carpet, before seeping away. Her fingers quickly were sucked dry of her juice, one by one, each finger slipped between her rose coloured lips to be drawn into her mouth and cleaned thoroughly.
My heart rattled and banged in my chest, seeming to hit my ribs from the inside as if it was trying to escape. My own breathing coming in short gasps as I watched her legs twitching in diminishing waves as her orgasm receded, each wave just slightly less powerful than the last.
Then all went very still, breathing, heart, everything as she turned her head, opened her eyes and looked straight at me. Almond shaped azure orbs orientated on the open window and my freeze-framed face, surrounded by painted window frame and sash.
I was mortified and desperately wanted to run and not stop until I was far away, but my legs refused to follow the instructions my thoughts were telling them. I was transfixed by her stare like a moth on a collector's pin. A mixture of shame and self-loathing overcame me. But, then, she smiled, just an upward twitch of the ends of her perfect lips and a slight wrinkling of her nose. We looked at each other, neither moving in a frozen tableau until her smiled broadened and her pink tongue tip licked across her top lip as if tasting the air.
I thought I saw her invite me in with a twitch of her head in a come here movement of her head. I thought that was what I had seen, but was too stupefied to move. She repeated the action and emphasised the motion theatrically.
I took the broad hint and pulled back to find the door. I couldn't see anyway in and turned back to shrug with open palms in a silent plea for directions. She understood and pointed to my left.
I found the back door, ajar and opening onto a small vestibule with a couple of doors, painted white leading off in opposite directions. I opened the left hand door that lead towards the front of the house. She stood in the centre of the room, still naked, standing in an unconscious pose with her head tilted to the left shoulder, arms hanging limp at her side and her feet planted slightly apart.
Her beauty stunned me momentarily. Her golden hair hung over her shoulder, straight until it revolved in ringlets at her waist, partially covering her small, high left breast. Her knee bent and the smile inviting and worrying at the same time. Her skin was flawless an almost pure white except the pinkness of her nipples and lips and a slight darkening tone at her mons. When I had watched her lying on the floor, I had guessed she was a beauty, but now that she was standing in her full glory, her true loveliness could be appreciated. She stood, perhaps five foot three or four inches in her bare feet. Her breasts were small, not under developed, but small and high on her chest. She was slender, but proportioned to perfection; hips flared, but not overly, more a subtle change of width from her narrow waist.
Her mons was slightly darker in tone, but she appeared hairless rather than shaved.
I suppose I stood there, looking at her for a little too long, because she placed a hand on her hip and asked me if I was just going to stand there all night. Even in her slight frustration at my apparent ineptitude, her voice seemed to tinkle into my tympanic nerve and caress my hearing in a soothing invitation.
But even then, the intoxication of her had me in thrall and movement was beyond me for a moment. The sight of her perfection and the fact that she had invited me in was just too much for my senses to believe.
It was she who broke the spell by coming to me and grasping my hand before pulling me into the centre of the bare room. It was only then I realised that there was no furniture of any kind, just a soft woollen carpet on the floor.
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Sam knocked softly on Bex’s door. It was late, but he knew from the light creeping out from under the door that she was up. “That you Sam?” Bex’s muffled voice filtered out into the hall. “Yeah.” Sam bunched his toes in the carpet. “You ... alone?” “Yeah,” Sam said. “Come in.” Sam opened the door and slid into the room. He closed and locked the door behind him. His eyes took a second to adjust to the light. Pussy. His sister’s room smelled like pussy. “Are you?” Sam blinked. “Yeah.”...
i have a very experiance with casual dating sites the lady's ask you for a O.D.P ONLINE DATERS PASS that you as man never will get that you wants to on a Phishing fake site that look for your credit card parts and what you get is a membership that you have payed, for example 60 euro's kost get the lady 30% off it that is 15 euro from that sitei am looking for real dates and not a dating scammer that ask you for a ITUNES GIFT CARD OR MONEY OR A AMAZON GIFT CARD the most of these profiles are...
“I miss having sex with a man sometimes.” We were sitting in Gato del Sol, our neighborhood Mexican restaurant, having what passes for Sunday brunch, just like we did nearly every Sunday. I was skimming through the ads in the weekly alternative paper when she looked up from her iPhone and said that, breaking a good five minutes of comfortable silence. “I mean, I can’t handle a real relationship with a guy. No way I could trust them like that, I know,” she said, then smiled impishly. “But...
InterracialHarry Reid often had strange dreams likely brought on by some of his fast food dinners. One recurring one was that he was a test pilot whose jet develops engine trouble so he has to eject before the aircraft crashes. It all seems so strange as the parachute brings him down gently onto gently rolling fields of hay and sleepy cattle and sheep. He hides the parachute not knowing what to expect for a reception as he tried his best to pilot the stricken machine away from any housing areas. He seemed...
All week at work in the home center, I thought about last weekend. God, Shari was just amazing. And then she brought up the other girl, Kim, the slender little Oriental girl. The virgin. Yeah, I had a hard on all week. Well, last weekend Shari had asked about what I masturbated about. This weekend, I could tell her. Everything! I realized I was surrounded by women. Well, it was no different than usual, but now I noticed them. All ages, all body types. I was just on a testosterone...
This story is based on a game “Who Wanna Be a Bimbo” created by Dahakma; it can by found on TF Games. The game, despite its simplicity, is really absorbing and entertaining. It turns out, it can be inspiring as well. I have already published all of the episodes on Literotica, so you can read it all there as well.
(Wrote for fun, enjoy) * I’m softly treading water looking at the eye of the Dragon as it rises above the edge of the horizon. The soft orange glow of the moon at quarter phase as it appears over the tree line. My father always told me it was a Dragon watching us from the dark. I believed him at the time. It looks just like that. I swim in the warm water over to the floating platform in the middle of the small lake. By the time I reach it my arms have grown tired. The effort to pull...
** Legal Age of Consent Disclaimer** The story and characters within it are entirely works of fiction, and any resemblance to anyone in real life is purely coincidental and unintentional. All characters within the story are assumed to be of legal consenting age if said character is involved in a sexual act of any nature, whether it be implied or explicitly described.** "Bad Luck Bitch" (BLB) is a collection of stories based around our main character, Britney Swallows. These stories are only...
Jack made his way along the oak panelled passageway cautiously. He was regretting being one of the few who had decided not to come to the party in a costume as his dark suit, far from making him inconspicuous, made him stand out among the weird and wonderful crowd. Naturally shy, he found the decadence of the whole affair rather alarming and he tried to keep a low profile. This had been unsuccessful as his boyish good looks and strong powerful physique had attracted many admiring glances from...
Note: This story has its origin in "The Virus" by The Joker Naturally, a number of myths and romanticized stories have grown up even in the few short years since the beginning of the New Age. Many of these concern the first critical moments that made all the difference. Did it really happen just that way? Maybe not, but so the story goes... Dr. Mercedes Silva was doing a routine gene sequence when the wail of the All Seal alarm froze her heart. Putting aside false hopes that it was only...
Before I went crazy with lust like Shelia, Harry pulled from my gaping anal opening. He walked over to the bed where Shelia was still twitching and forced his cock back into her stretched cunt. This time Harry gently screwed Shelia as she babbled and twitched. She was conscious enough to know that she was having sex. She slowly lifted her legs to Harry's back and whimpering, took hold of Harry's bald head and rubbed it as Harry kissed her neck and sucked her nipples. Shelia was trembling and...
We were all told to meet at the Embassy Suites in shorts and t-shirts. I’d put my game uniform and gear into a duffle bag. Most of the guys had done the same, but a few still had their uniforms in the clear plastic bag they’d been given them in yesterday. We were ushered into a large ballroom where we were met by all the coaches and staff. We were then assigned teams. I was put on the team called Pride, along with twelve other boys. Once the teams were announced, our coach pulled us all...
Linda and Richard cleaned up and got dressed. It was now almost two o'clock. After obtaining information as to the location of Sea World, Richard drove with Linda, down the main highway and got off at the Sea World off ramp. After purchasing their tickets they walked in and began looking at some of the different shows and exhibits. Richard was surprised when Linda hesitated walking through the underground shark tank. It seems as though she had seen "Jaws" when she was a little girl,...