They Call Me Barbi Ch. 01

I sprang up on his prone body so we were face to face. I wanted to do something to him that I had dreamt about. I leaned down and smothered his face in my breasts. For once they were not going to be an embarrassment. They would be my twin towers of love. I had crossed my ankles across his stomach to prevent intrusion.

"Now tell me," I said, using the threatening voice that quelled my little brothers, "what do you mean by 'six six'. Or you won't breathe again."

Of course he just lifted me up by my shoulders and grinned as he chose which breast to lick first. I was helpless, suspended in midair, then he started to render me helpless with pleasure. But not in the way to crush my spirit because I could feel myself start to float in his arms, arms that gave me so much security that I felt as safe as I had been in my mother's womb.

"Sarajevo. You know Sarajevo."

I knew about the siege but shook my head.

"Olympics of winter nineteen eighty four. On ice."

I tried to concentrate on the arithmetic while he applied his mouth around my nipples and eventually said, "You are too young."

"Movie," he had broken off sucking me, "watch dancers on ice, Torvill and Dean."

He was kissing me hard again now. Mostly it was my breasts listening to his mouth.

He held me up a a little more so he could study my breasts before he carried on.

"Stupendous! They came out like two birds mating on the wings." Something I know twitched. "Always touching and turning and flying over the ice like air, and the music, They dance to the music," he tried to sing to it but just named it.

"Ravel's Bolero. Then all the judges vote."

"They get two votes, one to six, each judge. Then each judge holds up 'six' one hand 'six' the other hand. Extremely perfect. And we all cry."

So I was extremely perfect.

He laid me gently on my side with a leg pushed up in front of me and his thigh over it so keep me still. I promptly fought my way round till I was looking towards his face. Then I realised that front to front with an amorous man puts a girl at risk and wriggled until I was safely facing away from him.

One or two of his fingers went to that place which is no longer private to him and he quickly found what he was looking for and I was now longing for. I felt very glad that he knew his way round a woman's body even in the dark, even lying behind me.

One hand was exhilarating me, the other was calming until he took it away from my breast and let me suck his fingers. I never realised what he would do with them till I felt the first one probing at my back passage. But I was feeling too good to object and all he was doing was just tapping at me till I surprised myself by opening up to it. It was sucked inside with no help from my conscious mind. His thumb started pressing me at the front.

My stomach started to send up little thrills of excitement. They were faint but they were soon beginning to shoot up to my waist and affect my breathing.

It had become short and sharp, so much so that I was not taking enough of a breath to get new air to my lungs and I knew that unless fresh oxygen got into the lobes there would be no gas exchange and I would effectively suffocate myself. Already my heart was beating faster in it's attempt to get oxygen to my brain and into it's own muscle. I was going to have a heart attack.

"No!" I called, but it came out more like, "Oh" and he did not relent.

I lost track of him in my orgasm. When I came back he was holding me tight, smoothing my skin and I discovered he had used the time to send up another finger. We were exciting each other's bodies, I knew it. I could feel it. Now he could do anything with me that he wanted because I wanted it too. And he had promised to leave me a virgin.

I reached back and wrapped my fingers around the first cock I had ever touched. I was shocked at how big these things are! Still, I reasoned, not so big as the baby they would produce and if my mother could let one pass I too would learn. That is what I was thinking as I felt his stretchy satin skin, sliding up, down and round the hard shaft. I would have thought more about how I would care for it had not another wave of orgasm distracted me.

Vaguely I became aware that he had placed a third hand between my breasts and even more slowly realised what had happened. My hand flew back round to grab at empty air where his cock had been.

"Oh no," was what I said, or sobbed. My body was trembling. No more than that, shaking.

"You stay a virgin girl," was what he said and the pressure stopped. My hand found his cock and it was oily and slippery. I wiped it off on my bum and quickly he hooked my fingers round the cheek and pulled me further open.I relaxed again only to feel another thrust beginning. I clamped down on him and again the pressure eased. Another thrust, stopped when I clamped him.

But then his hand was back on my breasts searching for a way to hold me calm.

So calm that I took my attention away from him and thought only of my breasts. Until now they had brought me embarrassment and shame by their size. They attracted unwanted men to me like flies.

Their only good point was how, in a crowd, I could push other women aside with them and they did not demur, knowing it was their lot to be obedient.

This was something I only discovered by many incidents, like being able to claim the last remaining pair of jeans when a crowd was fighting over them, or getting under a shelter if the rain came on. A grudging sort of respect I imagine.

Brad was so successful with my breasts that I did not realise he was still verging slowly inside me until I felt the pressure of his body across my hips and abruptly I stiffened.

That made me clamp down on his penis, my body had not yet come to terms with it being inside me. Then, while my eyes felt as if they were popping, he grunted deeply and this time I felt him pulling back out of me.

I breathed in and he felt it as a sucking from inside and a relaxing anus. His slippery penis came in with controlled determination.

Automatically this made my sphincter grip him but he had already put most of himself inside and when my body felt his thrust it gripped him harder and locked him there.

He cried with a rasping cry and I wanted to loosen up on him. I knew he had the strength to forge right in. My head was fighting one way with my body screaming the other way. But after I had done so I started to enjoy him being in me even as he penetrated me further.

He had hooked me and I felt was on him. We were almost perfectly united and I wanted perfection.

He had better finish me now he had started. Between sobs into his greatcoat I started urging him to go deeper with cries of "Take me." He obeyed.

His hair started to annoy my smooth cheeks and it made me try to wriggle. It let him push in further then pull out only to push back into me again. Then this feeling started to build in my stomach and sparked down to his penis which made it bounce back up again spraying every organ, every nerve and up my spine to my brain. It was not hair I was feeling on my skin any longer, it was mains electricity, the kind of current that can paralyse your muscles or lock them rigid.

And then I wasn't simply floating. I was the rowboat when the over-vigorous oarsman missed the rowlocks. Suddenly adrift on the lake with neither control nor controller and the man I had been carrying a moment before writhing about helplessly in my bottom. Whether he was in agony or ecstasy I did not care.

When I came round I was both frightened and triumphant. My eyes were wet, I was shivering but I knew I had made a wonderful man cum in me.

He rolled me on his stomach and let me rest, holding my feet high in the air. I wanted to kiss him and he knew but all we could manage was a timid attempt. He still had something hard inside me to amuse us with as he stirred me around, laughing softly at my indignity. So I grabbed his testicles and squeezed a little.

Now it was my turn to laugh out loud when he threw us up in the air till I realised that big hook of his was still embedded in me. When he came down below me he leaned back just a little to make me fall on it so I was impaled frighteningly deeply.

As I struggled up he forced me down, my legs balancing against his arms, my bottom trying vainly to hold him still.

How easily I made him cum again that dark Greek night, not by trying but rather by self-preservation.

He softened and held me cradled in his arms, holding me the way a drunk man holds a pole for support and gradually I realised that he had fallen asleep still inside me.

With this realisation I was left feeling so lost and lonely. I had never been so vulnerable in all my adult memory yet somehow this was a moment of triumph for me, I had quieted the savage beast that had ranged in me and around me. I even removed the used condom.

By the time the sun began to light up the sky we were lying face to face again and I realised my danger. So I just held it pointing to the ground and brought him off as he awoke. When he opened his eyes he soon discovered why I had the wickedly innocent look in my eyes. So I let him put his big arm round my shoulders and kiss me while he made up his story. It was very simple.

"Not all Greek Virgins," he told me, "Sparta in particular. The girls all virgins when they married and all of them anally active long before."

That was a new one on me. Spartan men were soldiers on bad rations, so bad they would rather die than retreat back to camp. Each one a qualified murderer, that I also knew.

So much for his ancient history. What I was now looking forwards to was next to a murder. It was going to be the end of my independent life, so soon.

I had never intended to let myself be taken: never on this project, far less so easily. I was having to rewrite my future life plans. At least he would not have made me pregnant with child, though what he had put inside me had changed me utterly and I could not define why. For a brief moment I felt I hated him.

Hate is a bad feeling. It does not belong in the heart of a Christian, that I knew from childhood, but I also felt I had done very wrong last night. How was it possible for me to allow a man to take such advantage of my position? I had slipped badly.

He had to get ready for work. I staggered to my feet and held him to get my body in balance and put my head against his chest. Holding on to him I managed to tilt back my face and look up to him.

"Six, six," I told him and prodded his chest.

In Greek terms this man from the East had come in through my Hot Gates and from now on it was up to me to control him more closely as my act of my love for him. Yet for the moment I felt so unsteady when I stood up, even to the point where I did not want to walk. My priorities were a sip of water, ablutions and food. Now was the time when I really appreciated the Greek toilets combined with shower.

Afterwards I thought it was worthwhile to spend a lot of my money and have a burger: my stomach knows what to do with them. I needed my strength to work out how to control Brad.

Now I thought that if I got him to visit Bradford Castle as a tourist when my program in Greece was finished it would give me a few weeks alone with him and the chance to make him mine.

All that the next month required was to keep him on the boil while I studied him, just to examine him more thoroughly and to make certain of my plans for him. Basically I suppose that I had already decided.

He had certainly been able to look after himself without a woman and I did check that he did not have one hidden away somewhere. My feelings about his independence without me were mixed. On the one hand he was a mature adult yet on the other, I felt that he ought to need me and know that he needed me before I made my pitch.

Certainly he wanted my body and I made sure he could not have anyone else's. Other girls tended to shrink away from my breasts. They could not compete and now I revelled in that knowledge.

However it meant that my underwear got moist more often, each time I had fun facing down a possible threat.

Of course, he needed to have relief. As seldom as possible at this stage I thought. But he was hungry for me and I surprised myself that month, for I was eager for him.

His body was a temple and his penis was its pinnacle. I was in danger of worshipping it alone. However he did not try to penetrate me at every opportunity and this counted in his favor.

Nearly a week later I was ready to take him in me again. He promised not to violate me, just to take me the same way as before and now I knew what to expect. There was no cause for fear. But it came as a disappointment to me.

It did not seem to be the same although he did much the same.

I could have shaken him and demanded he tell me why it was not so special and yet he looked so, I will use the word, Satisfied.

He rolled on his side to rest and from what I have learned about men, would probably have fallen asleep. I pushed him flat on his back and lay on his chest with my arms around his neck.

Despite his strength he would be unable to go anywhere until I let him know he had not fulfilled me. My tears falling on his cheeks did the trick. He turned from satisfied to curious and curious to worried.

He was worried that he had not been as good to me as I had been to him.

I know that troubled him to the extent of stimulating his body from near torpor to a man once again determined to conquer his woman with love as well as zest and skill.

I adore being loved.

This incident was an important lesson to me, at least. It backed up the ideas I had formed years earlier about firstly having the confidence to know you will succeed before you communicate. And it enforced the need for communication with one you are very close to physically.

I got a shock when I tried to make travel plans for us.