Unique

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She likes unique things.
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,909 Followers

"I knew you were unique as soon as I saw you in the club."

She clutched his arm firmly, her head resting against his shoulder. The fact that she held his arm against her left breast was a nice bonus to the close physical contact.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do I have a dark aura or something?"

She looked up at him, smiling sweetly, her red-painted lips making that small facial gesture all the more prominent underneath the street lamp. "If you do, then I can't see it. But the moment I first saw you, I just 'sensed' something unique about you, only I just can't put my finger on it."

The traffic light changed to green, the white Walk symbol activated, and he led her across the intersection. "It must be the fact that I have three left feet," he observed.

She laughed openly. "True, you're not the most graceful dancer I've ever seen!!!"

"Gee, thanks. I think."

She laughed again, inadvertently pulling his arm even harder against her breast. "But you still looked so cute trying to dance!"

"In my case," he noted somewhat flatly, "'trying' seems to be the operative word when it comes to moving to music."

Reaching the opposite sidewalk, she tugged his arm into her breast again as she turned to the right, leading him toward her apartment. "Dancing aside, I still can't place my finger on it, on what made you stand out so much against the throngs of people back in the club."

"Well, if it means anything, it was more than just your beauty that attracted my attention to you," he stated honestly. "It was the way you seemed to react to me, even before I was fully aware of you striding toward me."

"'Even before?'"

"I had noticed you at the bar when I first made it to the dance floor," he admitted. "But I didn't think much about it at the time. I was just there really to get out of my tiny apartment for the night, to put my Ph.D. Qualification Exam studying behind me for a while."

"Ph.D., huh?" They passed a narrow alleyway, and both looked into the darkness when they heard a sharp feminine gasp of ecstasy coming from between the buildings. He smiled to himself, returning his attention to the young woman clutching his arm to her breast.

"Not much further," she assured him, a noticeable lilt in her voice. "That's my building just past the next intersection."

"It looks more like a really tall brick house than an apartment complex," he observed aloud. "I like it."

"The inside certainly feels more like a traditional apartment complex," she admitted, "but that doesn't matter to me, although I did find the exterior to be rather unique. What I like most about it is that the walls are rather thick inside, so there isn't much noise that flows from one apartment to another... at least, not through the walls. But if the neighbors above me start making a lot of noise, like during this year's Super Bowl, it almost sounds as if they'll drop through my ceiling and land on me."

As she fished her keys out of the right pocket of her skin-tight black jeans, her continued to hold his arm against her left breast. While he certainly did not mind such contact, he did find it a little unusual that she would continually "force" such contact with her chest. Even once they were inside the building, she used both arms to hold his arm against her breast, continuing the small talk until they reached her door on the third floor.

"I hate the sameness of everything in the corridors," she commented absently, "but putting anything on one's door violates the lease and is an evictable offense. And the very prominent brown color of the corridors is almost nauseating to me."

She finally unlocked the door and nudged it open, finally releasing his arm from her breast (unfortunately, in his opinion) and allowed him to enter her apartment first. The first thing he noticed was the bust atop the bookshelf opposite the door – not a traditional bust, but truly a feminine bust, wearing an actual black bra with a print of bloody white roses on each cup.

"I like unique things," she commented as she closed and locked the apartment door, "and as soon as I saw that in a catalogue, I simply had to order it!!!"

He studied the bust carefully. It was essentially a section of a human female's torso, from the lower ribs up to about halfway up the neck, chopped off after the first three inches of each arm. It appeared to be made of a grayish stone, but he had a feeling that a much lighter material had been used and simply painted or somehow modified to have the aesthetic of stone.

She clutched his arm, again pressing it against her left breast as she stood beside him, following the amazed gaze of his eyes to the bust. She laughed softly. "Like I said, I like unique things. And yes, it is anatomically correct, and yes, it is wearing a 34B bra."

Fascinated, he lifted his free arm to touch the bust, but suddenly thought better of it, which made her laugh openly. "Go ahead. She can't bite!"

Smiling at her statement, he reached out to the bust, touching it just to the left of the neck. It was definitely not made of stone, but he was unfamiliar with the material used. His fingers meandered to the bra strap, then trailed downward to the left cup, then gently tugged downward to expose the slightly-raised areola and the prominent nipple.

"Like I said, I like unique things."

"Fascinating," he whispered to himself as he returned the cup to its socially-acceptable position. Then he turned to her: "You certainly know how to get a guy's attention!"

She laughed, then tilted her head in a silent, telltale gesture, her eyes closed. They kissed, slowly and respectfully, the contact with her breasts now shifting to his own, less-interesting chest as they held each other.

"You don't try to stick your tongue down my throat at the first opportunity, and you don't suddenly start groping me once we're in private," she observed with a happy sigh. "I knew you were unique. You actually appreciate and respect us girls, don't you?"

"Definitely. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't."

She was lost in thought for a moment, then took his hand and led him into the small living room, the main lamp having been left on during her absence. She invited him to sit on the sofa, then she sat in his lap, leaning against him as his arms enveloped her. "You are definitely unique," she whispered, followed by a kiss to his neck.

They sat in silence for a long time, simply caressing each other. It took a while before he at last felt the courage to touch her chest without her prompting, and she seemed almost relieved when he finally did. He then turned his attention to her breasts, kneading each in turn, using slow and reverent motions.

"Did you grow up with a lot of sisters?" she finally asked quietly.

"Not at all," he replied, "but I was the only guy in my age group in the apartment complex where I spent my early years. The next oldest guy was about twelve years older. Even in the surrounding neighborhood, the next oldest guy was maybe seven years older than me."

"And after your early years?"

"We moved to the suburbs, and it just happened that the girl-to-boy ratio in the entire school was nearly three-to-one. That had dropped to two-to-one by the time I reached high school, since there were multiple neighborhood elementary and middle schools but only one high school. But still, perhaps it was just the way I was raised, but I never could identify with the guys who would brag about 'banging' a 'bitch,' or slapping their girlfriends around, or whatever. That may also be why most of my friends throughout my life have been girls."

"That's unique," she replied. "That's really refreshing to hear, and I can tell that you're really sincere about that. Thank you." She kissed his neck again, then slowly made her way back toward his lips.

Their foreplay was long and slow, respectful and romantic. Despite having met only hours earlier, there was no sense of a one-night-stand, no hurry to strip each other and engage in carnal delights, no feeling that each was simply using the other for short-term gratification. Somehow, on some intangible level, they clicked, their minds on the same wavelength, as if they had been predestined to meet on this particular night.

When at last they were fully nude, he sat on the sofa and she mounted him, reassuring him that no condoms were needed. She rose and rocked slowly, their eyes always locked, their hands always exploring, until at last her need surged through her being, her body slamming fiercely into his until her eyes rolled back in her head, her labored breathing the only audible sign of her powerful climax as she clutched his shoulders roughly, her fingernails burrowing into his skin.

One she had recovered from her body-trembling orgasm, she looked into his eyes again with deep amazement. His manhood was still thick and lengthy inside her, filling her quite nicely, yet he did not seem even close to approaching his own orgasm. He clearly had incredible staying power, to so expertly fend off his own climax while enduring the results of hers. Although his breathing had also quickened well beyond a normal rate, he simply kissed her sweat-covered forehead and hugged her close.

"You certainly are unique," she whispered into his ear. "I have never known a guy to be able to hold back when I cum around him."

"Well," he suggested, "try again."

"Gladly, but take me to bed first, please."

"Your wish is my command."

Moments later, he carried her into her own bedroom, lit only by the aquarium-style screensaver of her laptop on the small desk opposite the window. With great care, he deposited her upon the black sheet, her head perfectly centered upon a black-cased pillow. Even in the darkness, he spotted the black leather cuffs atop her dresser and motioned his head in that direction. "Shall I?" he inquired.

"Please," she whispered.

His erection bobbing before him, he retrieved the cuffs, returning to the bed to buckle them around each wrist and ankle. "Do you just have these, or are there other items I should know about, like ropes or chains or hidden attachment points?"

"You are so perceptive," she observed with a smile. "I keep the chains in a box underneath the bed. There are also special bolts near the foot of each post. The chains have clips at each end so I can be freed quickly if need be."

"You've thought this out quite well," he noted, dropping to the floor to search for the box.

"You seem to know what you're doing," she returned as he pulled out the box and noted the various items – chains and otherwise – inside.

She was soon secured to the bedposts, the chains rattling softly as she tested her bonds. Another pillow had been placed under her, lifting her sex to a nice position for when he was ready to penetrate her once again.

But he first straddled her chest, rearranged the pillow beneath her head, and slipped his meaty phallus into her small mouth. He moved slowly, never pressing deeper into her warm wetness than he thought she could handle without choking, pausing a few seconds on occasion to allow her to breathe normally before penetrating her again. The entire time, his hands stroked her hair, caressed her face, or reached back to fondle her breasts and gently pinch her prominent nipples. She occasionally hummed softly around the oral invader, or tested her bonds again in an effort to reassure herself that she was unable to escape, that she was completely at this unique man's gentle mercy. Through it all, they gazed upon each other as if they had been lovers for decades, with an intimacy entirely unexpected for two complete strangers who had met just hours earlier.

"Not only are you unique," she whispered as he finally withdrew from her mouth and dismounted her, "but you're also incredibly gentle and kind. You're so different, caring. I like it. I like you."

"Thank you." He slipped off the bed, retrieved the whip he had found earlier in the same box with the chains, and stood again, noting the sparkle in the bound woman's eyes and the smile spreading across her face.

He placed the handle of the whip before her mouth. "Hold this in your teeth," he instructed, and she opened her mouth to comply, closing her teeth gently around the hard-rubber handle. "If the whip falls out of your mouth," he threatened with a smile, "I'll have to hurt you with it."

She grinned at his threat, her eyes flashing mischievously. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he returned his attention to her chest, thinking of the bust atop the bookcase and noting the similarity between the bust's nipples and her own nipples, noting the similarity in body size and cup size, wondering if the bra on the bust was actually one of her own bras.

But certainly, the bust could never "react" as she did when he tugged a nipple with his teeth. She gasped softly, thrusting her chest skyward in a silent plea for him to tug harder and further, pulling at her restraints with more need as he complied with her unspoken request. One hand reached up to her face, the fingers pinching her nostrils shut, forcing her to breathe through her mouth while the fingers of his other hand slithered down her taut body to her sex, gently spreading the desire seeping from her torso and occasionally plucking her clitoris as if testing a guitar string, yet despite the pinching of her nostrils and her inability to escape if the building should suddenly start to burn, she felt no danger, no worry, no nervousness from his actions.

His mouth left her chest and sought her lips. His fingers still pinching her nostrils shut, she could not breathe except for his exhalations, and she accepted them happily, taking his breath into her lungs, making it part of her. His mouth retracted, and she could breathe fresh air again, but only for a few seconds before he kissed her again, his breath filling her lungs just as his fingers hand left her clitoris to fill her sex. She accepted his fingers and his breath – did she realistically have any other choice? – and savored both equally as her limbs instinctively fought against her bonds despite her heart's perfect absence of fear.

With a final lunge of his tongue deep into her mouth, he withdrew his lips and released her nose, allowing her to breathe normally on her own again. He continued to plunge his fingers into her until he was positioned between her spread legs, looking fondly up her body, enjoying the rise and fall of her breasts before applying his tongue to her clitoris, feeling and hearing her shudder from the contact.

Withdrawing his fingers, he attacked her savagely with his mouth. She quickly fought anew against her restraints, but this time for a completely different reason. With a soft cry, she finally released her deluge of liquid passion, coating his face and soaking the pillow beneath her, still whimpering from the beautiful aftermath when finally his sex was mated with hers for the second time.

He was, in a word, relentless. His pace was immediately fast and furious, his powerful plunges into her body seeming to reverberate within the small bedroom as well as throughout her body. It took almost no time at all for him to force an orgasm upon her, and then another, and then another. She was still screaming from the carnal lust and animalistic pleasure when he suddenly withdrew from her dripping body and unleashed a veritable torrent of his own passion upon her, jet after jet after jet arcing through the air to land upon her stomach, her chest, her neck, her face, even the headboard of the bed, his loud grunts joining hers in an erotic duet with each volley of white.

At last, he knelt between her thighs, both of them still gasping loudly for breath, both covered with sweat. She was still bound to the bedposts, and in his eyes there was no prettier sight than seeing her restrained, hair disheveled, body covered with sweat, and his own semen practically puddled upon her.

She finally spat the whip from her mouth. "Holy shit!" she finally exclaimed, her semen-soaked breasts still rising and falling rapidly. "I knew you were unique!!! You must have the cum of some twenty guys in you!!! I've been in a bukkake film with a dozen guys before, and even together they never covered me as much as you just did!!!" Emphasizing her point, she extended her tongue and licked away some of his semen from around her lips.

He simply shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I had a feeling that you would enjoy being covered like that." He rose up on his knees, tracking her eyes to his flaccid penis, and took it into his hand, pointing it toward her. Another powerful torrent erupted from his manhood, landing on her right shoulder and breast as she squealed in amazed delight.

"I've just found the ultimate unique person!" she told herself aloud, smiling and laughing. "Spray me again! Spray my face!" He complied, pouring ever more of his essence upon her as she gulped down as much as she possibly could, her head spinning from her giddiness at her most unique find.

*****

They sat at the table in the morning, chatting over coffee and bagels, learning more and more about each other. Finally, she asked the question:

"How?"

He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I wish I did, but all I can say to explain it is, 'It's magic.' I do know that if I've had a lot to eat or drink, then I can pump out even more."

"But the second time last night, you were completely limp when... That wasn't the right thing to say..."

He laughed quietly. "No worries. I know exactly what you mean. I don't understand it either, but somehow, all I need to do is imagine myself doing it, and it happens, whether I'm aroused or, as you say, 'limp.'"

She smiled with her eyes as she took another sip of coffee, her foot sliding along his lower leg underneath the table. "Well, next time, you can blast away inside me all you want, because I'm unique also."

"How so?"

She hesitated a moment before answering. "I was born without eggs, and I've never had a period and apparently never will. I have everything else I should have inside me, but those two things have baffled every doctor who's ever looked at me. One even went so far as to call me 'a true freak of nature,' which really crushed me for weeks since I was barely fifteen at the time... and my mother also didn't take too kindly to his unprovoked comment.

"But," she continued, changing the subject, "what are the chances of two 'freaks,' two unique yet complimentary individuals ever meeting? I suppose the planets are all in alignment right now... or, at least, they were last night."

She had cut her bagel in half and spread cream cheese on each half, but had only eaten one half of her bagel. An idea suddenly came to his mind, and he stood and approached her, fully nude since his clothes were still on the floor in front of the sofa. Equally nude, she set down her coffee and turned toward him, opening her mouth, ready to take his flaccid penis into her mouth to be fed.

But instead, he turned to the table and added his essence to the cream cheese upon her bagel, then he returned to his seat and nonchalantly resumed drinking his coffee.

Surprised, she stared at her semen-coated breakfast for several long heartbeats, her eyes blinking quickly in disbelief. But at last, she picked up the bagel and took a bite, feeling his eyes upon her. The taste of bagel and cream cheese and semen was odd, but definitely not unpleasant. Their eyes locked, she ate the rest of her breakfast, then washed it down with the rest of her coffee.

"You have a very unique way of thinking," she complimented him with a smile. "Thank you. I would have never considered that."

"Actually, neither would I," he admitted, "if I hadn't recently seen a Japanese porn film where the girl had to do that several times. I'm glad to see that it can happen in reality, outside 'the movies.'"

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,909 Followers
12