The Entrapment of Susan Andrews
- 4 years ago
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We were lying in bed in Deirdre's hotel room recovering from a bout of mind-blowing liberating sex, at least from my point of view. I had wanted to make slow sensuous love to this woman who had suddenly become the focus of my life. Instead I lost my head and it turned into a long hard monkey fuck.
It was a mistake. I don't know what happened. One minute I was this guy trying desperately to impress the woman of his dreams. The next minute I was primal man staking his claim on Eve in the Garden of Eden.
Is it right to want someone that much? Is it healthy? What have I gotten myself into? Christ, the woman is going to be gone in two weeks never to be seen again.
I told her this afternoon when I accepted her invitation to try to work off the sexual tension that had developed between us that I would probably hate myself in the morning. I wasn't kidding.
I'm starting to hate myself right now, for two reasons. First I may have pissed away the opportunity of a lifetime by losing control during our first (and maybe only) lovemaking session. Second, I've fallen in love. I've got feelings for Deirdre that run deeper than I thought myself capable of. It's a hopeless consuming passion. I'm addicted to her like the worst crack junky to his dope. And I'm lying here knowing she will be gone in two weeks. I'm a complete idiot.
Deirdre had been laughing at some little play on words that she somehow had the presence of mind to make through this emotional morass I find myself in. Let's be honest, maybe she isn't in the same emotional morass.
I had apologized for fucking her brains out. When I asked her what she was thinking, she said "Why, Andrew, I'm not thinking anything. I have no brains."
And then she laughed. It was that warm infectious little laugh that I had grown to adore. It infected me and I laughed too, defusing my anxiety a little.
Suddenly she stopped laughing and came into my arms. Our bodies touched for the first time. Well it seemed like the first time. The last time I was in such a state of unbridled lust that I hardly noticed her body. Now she molded herself to me and our lips met.
Deirdre is soft, indescribably soft. Her skin is like nothing I've ever touched before. It's so soft it's barely a solid. My hands roamed her back as we held each other. Her kiss was one that poets try to describe with no success. The softness of those lips, the electricity in her touch, the warmth, the gentleness of her embrace were all sucking me down into a permanent abyss of unquenchable romantic love. It was like part of me was outside myself, watching me drowning in Deirdre.
Have you ever said to yourself, "This is going to kill me" and went right ahead and did whatever it was anyway? That was me with Deirdre. This relationship was going nowhere. Deirdre doesn't do relationships. My life was going to end in two weeks. This is going to kill me.
But she was with me now. I would have to make it feel like eternity.
Our kiss seemed to last an eternity. Neither of us wanted it to end, maybe. I know I didn't. When she finally pulled away, her eyes were shining. She has this thing with her eyes. There is some kind of internal switch thing that she seems to be able to turn on and off. When the switch was on there was a light in her eyes that was mesmerizing, beautiful, dazzling. I thought it only happened when she smiled.
She said, "Thank you, Andrew. That was the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me."
I was still apprehensive. "I wasn't too rough with you?"
She smiled a little, a lovely warm smile. "No, you weren't too rough. You were a bit overwhelming. But sometimes it's wonderful to be overwhelmed."
"I promise that if we do it again, I'll take my time and be gentle. Something came over me just now. I wasn't myself."
She laughed. Her laugh was rich and melodious. Her eyes, her entire face, seemed to be laughing. "If that wasn't you, I want to meet that other guy who just about killed me."
Deirdre was a playful, delightful lover. Humor is such an integral part of her person, and it seemed to come out even more in the bedroom. She has a sweet relaxed way of dealing with everything.
We held each other and talked. I wanted to know about her. All I knew were these basic facts: she grew up in the South; went to Duke; worked for a big consulting firm; was beautiful; was the person I've been waiting for forever. Maybe she didn't feel like the person I've been waiting for forever.
My arms were full of Deirdre as she told me a little of her life. I was right where I wanted to be, forever.
"I'm from Savannah. Well, from a town outside of Savannah. Daddy was a doctor. Momma was a housewife. I've got a sister named Donna, but we call her Donnie."
I was pleased. "You mean there is another woman who has your bloodlines? Wow. Is she at all like you?"
"Yes, we are very much alike. We're about as close as sisters can be. I talk to her all of the time, and we tell each other everything."
I made the semi-obligatory leering grin and said, "Everything?"
She laughed again. Deirdre didn't giggle. She had none of the nervous mannerisms I was used to in the young girls I had dated. If she thought something was funny, she laughed. If she was nervous, she admitted it. She never giggled.
"Yes, everything. She is going to love this story."
I was a little flip with her. "Oh, you tell her about all your love affairs, huh?"
She took the bait. Her eyes flared with a different kind of spark, and I knew that this was as close to angry that I'd ever seen Deirdre.
"I don't do relationships, Andrew. And I don't have casual affairs. I never tell Donnie about my love life because I have no love life. I don't have time for a love life."
She seemed to calm down a bit as this came out. I held her even tighter and I could feel her tenseness relax.
"I'm sorry, Deirdre. Maybe I'm a little vulnerable right now. This thing we are doing here, I know you don't do relationships, so it can't be a relationship. But it feels like a relationship to me."
I heard her whisper, "Dee Dee".
"Dee Dee?" I questioned.
"Yes the people closest to me call me Dee Dee."
"Who calls you Dee Dee?"
"Momma, Daddy and Donnie are about it. I don't have that many people I'm close to." Deirdre was snuggling her head into my shoulder, kind of like a kitten rubbing against your leg. It felt wonderful.
I said, "You wouldn't mind if I called you Dee Dee?"
"I'd like it." Deirdre wasn't looking at me. Her face was buried in my shoulder.
I brought my hand to her chin and lifted her face next to mine. "Thank you, Dee Dee", I said, and then I kissed her, a soft gentle kiss of gratitude. I know it sounds ridiculous. She merely let me call her by her nickname, no big thing. But I felt like some threshold had been crossed. This private woman with no friends was asking me to be her friend. I wanted more, but every journey starts with the first step.
I wasn't horny. Jeez, I'd just had the greatest sexual experience of my life a few minutes ago. How could I be horny? But my mood was romantic. I took her face in my hands and planted a soft kiss on each cheek. Then I kissed her lips. It was one of those languid, no hurry kisses; the kind that seem to reach down to your heart and set it on fire.
I slid my lips down her throat and began kissing her neck. God, it was a beautiful neck. I felt myself sucking on that neck, trying to make it mine. I finally came to my senses and let up the pressure, seconds before placing a serious hickey on the neck of a thirty-five year old business woman.
She didn't seem to mind. Her eyes were closed and a soft lazy smile was on her lovely face. I worked my way down her chest. I was finally at her breasts. They were small and perfect. It was if she had been the model for the champagne glass rather than Marie Antoinette. They were round, soft, white, and perfectly symmetrical, with small dark, perfectly suckable nipples. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
I devoured those breasts. I made gentle love to those perfect nipples, softly licking them, gently biting them, then forcefully sucking them. By this time our previous encounter was a forgotten memory and my dick was as hard as a rock. But Dee Dee just lay there happily, allowing me to slowly worship her body. When I nibbled on her nipple I felt her body shudder and her chest pushed its way deeper into my mouth.
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The Red Thing was just standing against the wall, trembling. It is hard, very hard, to stay furious and defensive at something weak and terrified. Menolly wanted to. The gods knew that. She wanted to hate this thing. Hate it with every fiber of her being, drive it back into whatever reality it was from. Death should be invisible. You should never have to see it coming for you. It was Canth that decided it for her. As the seconds passed, the red skinned girl just standing there, unmoving,...
Death By Snu Snu Reddit, aka r/Death_By_SnuSnu! Have you guys ever watched Futurama? Most of us have, and I have to say that I absolutely loved watching that show. My favorite episode? You guessed it! The “death by snu snu” one. It’s actually called Amazon Women in the Mood and it was the first episode of the third season in that show. It was pretty hilarious, and it featured these powerful women with bulky bodies and thighs where they would kill men by fucking them and crushing their penises....
Reddit NSFW ListDeirdre's Story Our little girl has changed our lives. Something - hypnotism, magic, psychic brain surgery - has moved our relationship to a place we never knew existed. It's what I suspected about our children all along. But I never expected it for my husband or my sister or myself. We long ago had recognized that the children 'touched' each other with their emotions. Andrew calls it telempathy. But I must say that I was the first one of us to recognize the implications. I had guessed...
Andrew’s Story Our little head-to-head confrontation with the government, fleeting and ethereal as it was, has finally opened my eyes. Emmy almost brought down the entire US government and she didn’t even try hard. I asked her to zap the A.G. and zap him she did. In the meantime she was still trying to hit the tennis ball closer to the net, training the puppies to be guard dogs, doing essentially graduate work in six different languages, taking her naps, annoying everyone who came in...
Another fellow teacher, Tony, lived a few doors down from me. He rarely ate with us but would pop into the cafeteria here and there for coffee or fried dumplings. Tony was another ninja, like the Tasmanian, who’d been in China over a decade, and was also a teacher you wouldn’t see much of anywhere, aside from his classes. I saw him more than others because I lived near him, and we’d struck up a few conversations in the hallway, became fast friends. He was around two decades older than me,...
The Year 50 Donnie's Story Old. I used to complain that I was getting old. But now I've been old seemingly forever. I sometimes feel very tired. Nowadays I often sit remembering. I've seen children and grandchildren, things I never expect to see. I have the love of a wonderful man. My sister still lives, still my other half. Who could have asked for a better life? I only despair that it started so late. I was all of thirty-five before my life really began. Still, today thirty-five...
I said, “I think igniting passions is the only thing we have not done till today.” She said, “Yes, but now I don’t care about what Chetan thinks. I am sorry, Vinay. I hope you will forgive me for whatever I have done to you and made you feel ignored and alone for so many years.” I said, “It’s fine, Maya, let us leave the past behind and start afresh.” I looked at Maya with a male perspective for the first time. She had grown to fully blossom woman, smoking hot and deliciously sexy. Her boobs...
IncestDeath I slowly run the knife across my neck leaving a red trail in its wake. My hand falls down as i feel a stabbing pain from my neck. I move my hand to my neck and feel the sticky liquid that now covers my neck and soon my chest. When i pull my hand away i see a bloody hand. I smile knowing in a few minutes my blood will be all over my chest and soon I’ll be a dead body. laying in my bed. My sheets will soon be covered in the red liquid and look as if they where red and not white. But as...
CHAPTER 1 Romance, oh why couldn’t he experience romance? Just the once would do, thought Tom O. Bates whose trail of mixed-bag seductions lay in his wake like feathers of a rooster attempting to escape the red-faced farmer’s wife wielding an axe and intent on having her sleep interrupted by only one cock at dawn. Tom was an unsuccessful writer of sexy novels, rejected because his sentences were unacceptable. Too long. Another reason was although his hero and heroine met in the first chapter...