Liquid Chocolate

"I lay back catching my breath, but Tillie only paused for a moment. Her lips began working my softening prick, right away again, before, even, it had a chance to relax – recoup. Her fingers scrambled up my chest, frantically reaching out for my nipples. 'Oh, God!' she repeated over and over again, around the meat filling her mouth and growing once again with her ministrations.

"Yep, I was up again." While he had, up to this point, kept his visage very neutral, I could see a hint skepticism creep into Matt's eyes. I lifted my head, getting a little more earnest in my recounting. "I know it sounds too fantastic, but as unbelievable as it sounds, that was the effect Tillie's ultra-sexuality was having on me – me and my performance. I mean, suddenly, I could come a couple or three times over the frenzied course of only a few hours. Not only that, but I could keep up the pace for days on end. And remember, this particular occasion was at the end of a short hiatus. Didn't matter, though; her arousal was contagious, her excitement infectious. My own sexuality was charged by an energy field surrounding her – the field generated by her uninhibited obsession.

"I could go on for ever. It was so intense – going from one crest to the next with hardly time to breathe in between. At one point, I leaned back on the pillows, heart pounding, breathless as if I'd just run a race. As she came after me again, a raw, feral look in her eyes, I said, 'No. Give me a minute. Just use your fingers for a few minutes.' She hesitated, a look of confusion briefly washing her features through the sheen of sweat and come, beneath her wild, and matted tangled of wet hair. 'Yeah,' I said, putting a hint of dominance in my voice, 'sit back and make yourself come. Put on a show for me.' By her twitching smile, I could see that the suggestion was not only accepted, it was even further arousing.

"Tillie's eyes seemed to lose their intensity to a far-away glazing as she settled back, spreading her legs – her breath already becoming ragged, again. One hand clasped to her breast, twiddling and twisting her nipple, she fed the other hand, tentatively at first, to her sex. Dragging her fingers softly up her slick slit, her hips began to hump the moment she touched her clit. Panting and puffing through pursed lips, she suddenly, and violently drove three fingers deep into herself, hopping with her butt, pushing herself onto her hand, frantically; eyes fixed straight ahead, her other hand squeezed and mauled her breast, pulling and pinching the nipple mercilessly. Her climax came upon her so abruptly the breath caught in her chest, and she froze for the tiniest moment like a rocket at its apogee. Motionless, she was, for just that instant, as a glowing red tide swept over her; then, thrashing and screaming, she toppled over the edge. Flailing and writhing, her head back, mouth agape, fingers a blur, she plummeted once again into the viscous sea of erotic pleasure that words fail to describe.

"'Great show!' Catching her breath, she smiled and nodded to my praise, finally stilling her fingers. 'Hey, but I'm not quite ready, yet, sweetie,' I complained, 'so, how 'bout you give me another one, eh? There must be more where that came from.' A look of pleading flashed across her face, but her hands stayed fixed in their places, and taking a deep breath, she began the inexorable journey toward auto-fulfillment, once more.

"I suspected she wanted a rest, even needed a rest, but, somehow, I knew that she had relinquished control. I'd seen hints of it before, but now I was quite sure. When she got into that manic space, as she moved from climax to climax, recovering from or approaching orgasm, she seemed to give up her self-control, surrender her free will. She became a slave to her sexuality, not just open to lewd suggestions but bound by them. And by her responses, relishing them.

"I watched with admiration, slowly becoming aroused again by the stunning tableau. Strumming fingertips, bouncing buttocks, short, sharp gasps punctuated by piteous whimpers. I stared, pleased and intrigued, as once more she brought herself to a soul-shattering orgasm. I could see – and I believe, hard as it may have been for her to admit it, she, too, was discovering – that directed self-stimulation was a very powerful aphrodisiac for her. Indeed, while she lay, limp in the afterglow, virtually drained of her vitality, there was a look of supreme satisfaction settling on her lips and in her eyes. And I'd done that, I thought to myself. Indirectly, perhaps, but I'd brought her to that particular orgasm. And there was something of a feeling of power in that.

"I decided to run with it. 'Let's playSimon says,' I announced as she settled back to earth. I couldn't begin to relate all the details – you know: 'Simon says give me some head.' 'Simon says stretch both your nipples way out – with only one hand.' 'Simon says touch your cervix.' Well, that was the first time, and it was a runaway success. As tired as she was, as worn out from sexual excess, I played her like a fiddle. Before long I had her wound up like a spring, ready to explode. 'You mustn't climax until Simon says you can,' I cautioned. 'Simon says suck me off and don't spill a drop.' That was hard for her, because she was so very close herself. Squealing and panting around my dick, she took me deep, slurping and gagging, bobbing frantically, while trying desperately to stave off her own imminent climax.

"I came like a freight train, holding her by the ears and filling her mouth to overflowing. As soon as she'd collected the last stray drop on her tongue, all the while fighting off the torturous insistence of her impending orgasm, I barked, 'Sit up straight! Hands on your head!' She couldn't have looked more shocked if I'd cut off her nipple – still, she quickly complied.

"'Please,' she begged.

"'Please, what?' I teased.

"'Please let me come,' she whimpered.

"'In time, in time,' I promised, 'but don't you dare get there untilSimon says!' I gloated to myself at my control. I held her for a moment longer in virtual bondage, then I said, 'Simon says touch your clit with your left hand. But don't come.' I smiled as she tentatively accepted my double-edged sword. 'Simon says hang on to a nipple with your right hand.' I could see her quivering on the edge, struggling to keep the rising orgasm at bay.

"'Okay,' I whispered, 'Let yourself go!' Immediately Tillie's orgasm overwhelmed her like a tsunami. Wailing like a hurricane, she convulsed the length of her body. Her violent quaking shook her fingers from their purchases, and she instinctively clawed them back. Flopping about like someone in seizure, she mewed and shrieked by turns.

"As she slowly regained her composure, her chest still heaving, her body glistening and quivering, I looked down at her and laughed. 'What are we going to do with you?' I smiled indulgently. 'You didn't wait forSimon says.... I guess, we'll have to devise some suitable consequence, won't we?' Well, as they say,Begin at the beginning, said the king gravely.... Hence, we got into a bit of corporal punishment. I draped Tillie across my knee and began to spank her. At that point it was just token smacks on her bare buttocks, but even then, before we took it any further, it became very obvious that corporal punishment, for Dear Tillie, was no punishment at all. Quite the opposite, for right away she became increasingly and conspicuously aroused with every swat to her derriere.

I took a long pull on my beer, wiping my mouth on my sleeve, lost in the reverie.

"And...?" Matt queried, bringing me back.

"Yeah," I snorted, shrugging my shoulders. "Oh yeah." I heaved a heavy sigh, before continuing. "Suddenly, rapidly – faster than either of us could understand – we progressed into a sort of do-it-yourself dominance/submission relationship. It sort of became my duty to make her climaxes, the climaxes which she craved, contingent on her carrying out increasingly outrageous demands. In a weird, almost scary way, it was fun and exciting, if somewhat childish. I – we – found ourselves falling way, way too quickly, way too deep into the murky waters of sexual excess. And these were places, strange waters I had only ever fantasized about, and even then, in only my wildest, most secret fantasies. I dunno, suddenly we had stepped out of the realm of sexual relationship. Suddenly everything was much more complicated. We were not just becoming addicted to these indulgences – yeah, me, too." I looked up at Matt and shrugged in a sort of what-can-I-say way. "We seemed to be becoming addicted to each other. How we both kept our jobs during that period is beyond me. Perhaps our jobs were our lifelines – the only part of our lives that were still," my fingers drawing quotes in the air, "normal – keeping us tethered to the rest of the world.

"In any case, the speed at which our burgeoning – whatever: obsession, fixation, mania – whatever was taking off made my head spin. It was all I could do just to hang on. And hang on I did, watching, objectively, as my life – my life and Tillie's, the young woman from the chocolate shop – our lives flourished into a manifest fantasy – real life, real time.

"We both, still, protested our innocence often, declaring with astonishment things like: 'This has never happened to me before.' 'I've never ever felt like this – or behaved like this.' 'It would be frightening if it wasn't so wonderful.' So we continued.

"But it was Tillie much more than me. I'm not trying to duck any blame, but I was more the catalyst. I kept her cooking, kept her craving – sometimes deliberately, sometimes blithely. And with that in mind, it's sort of amazing that it took almost three months to actually take her anally.

"We had been playingSimon Says, again – we did that a lot – and I had her bouncing herself over – or onto – a rather large dildo, while mauling her own tits. 'Simon says lick your own nipple.' Now Tillie didn't have big tits – although I suspected they had gotten bigger during those last couple months, probably due to all the stimulation they had received. Whatever, she couldn't actually reach her nipple – well, only just with the tip of her tongue, lifting her tit from beneath. A cartoon picture flashed through my mind, and I snickered, 'Simon says hook yourself in the ass with your other hand and lift yourself up to meet your lips.' Well, right away, Tillie began pushing a finger into her sphincter. I leaned over and squirted a little KY into her hand, and watched her finger disappear up her butt. That's when the idea hit me. I couldn't figure out why it never had before. I guess I'd just been too busy tasting all the other sweets in the shop, but regardless, I launch into my ad hoc plan.

"'Simon says hold that dildo with your box, and lean forward.' When she'd complied, I went on commandingly. 'Simon says spread your ass cheeks.' I paused just a sec then added, 'Push two fingers into your ass.' I watched, enthralled, as Tillie struggled to follow my directions. Remember, this was not something we had done before. Holding her cheek out with her left hand, she worked the first two digits of her right hand in up to the second knuckles, before I smacked her other cheek, then leaned over to whisper in her ear, 'You didn't wait for Simon to say.'

"'Oh!' she exclaimed, dislodging her fingers hastily and collapsing onto her chest. 'Oh, oh, I...'

"'Now what?' I asked.

"'I have to be punished,' she hissed, barely audibly.

"'That's right,' I replied, giving her beautiful, upturned bum a smack. 'So, for your mistake, you'll need to reach beneath yourself and pump your rubber cock with one hand, while stroking your clit with the other. But you mustn't come until I say.' My already solid erection seemed to stiffen and harden even further, the glans all tight and bright. Leaning over her back, I whispered in her ear, 'I'm going to sodomize you, my sweet,' then, licking the sweat off the back of her neck, I pushed firmly against her backdoor. I heard her grunt, as the residual KY allowed me to slip inside her tight ring. I held there for a moment, bouncing lightly against the resistance. Tillie mewed – due to the anal pressure or due to her building orgasm, I don't know. At that point I didn't really care. I just slowly leaned my weight against her grasping sphincter, and gradually, inexorably began to slide in. Once I had the head lodged fully inside her, I took short, sudden thrusts, retreating slightly in between. I could feel the mass of the dildo through the membrane of her rectum, moving slightly, as she remembered to pump it.

"And then I was in, balls swinging against her knuckles, pubes scouring her crack. 'Keep those fingers moving,' I prompted, 'but don't climax.' I began saw myself slowly – in and out, accelerating ever so slowly, taking longer and longer strokes. Soon, I was thrusting full-length – pulling back until my helmet tugged at the inside tightness of her rosebud, then pushing in, smoothly and steadily, as far as I could go. Tillie began to rock back, meeting me on the in-strokes. I could hear her breathing becoming laboured; I could feel the increasingly heavy strokes of the dildo; I could detect the rapid vibrations of her fingers strumming her clit. Her butt began to quiver, grabbing at me as I pulled back, and trembling violently as I sank in deep. Suddenly her rectal temperature seemed to skyrocket. The tugging and squeezing of her bottom on my throbbing cock ignited an electric charge at the base of my spine. Flashing up behind my eyes the arc seemed to short-circuit, exploding in my loins, and sending torrents of jism splashing and scalding deep into her ass. I almost swooned myself, but that same moment, I heard her gasp and sob, and remembered. 'Simon says COME!' I almost screamed, and the result was instantaneous.

"Tillie writhed and bucked and shrieked and swore. Pushing back against my impaling member, she squirmed her ass against my pubes, her vocal track winding down to a repeated, 'Oh, oh, oh, oh...' Like someone receiving continual electric shocks, her whole body twitched and jerked. I could feel her rectum spasming around my tool. Dripping with sweat, she laid her head down on her arms. Her buttocks, her legs, her shoulders and her back all continued to quiver and shake for long, long minutes. Until at last she went limp. Balancing on her hands and knees, she hung precariously from my stiff cock – still stiff, still planted deeply in her bum.

"'You all right?' I asked softly.

"A satisfied 'Mmmmmm...' was her only reply.

"And on and on we went. Tillie had become like one of those rats, hooked up to pleasure-centre stimulation – totally addicted. She craved it, just like a junkie; she couldn't help herself. While the back of her neck remained her most sensitive trigger, she could be ignited or re-ignited by attention to any one of her erogenous zones. Not only that, but as our experience progressed her whole body seemed to be turning into one big erogenous zone. A touch anywhere; in fact, it got to the point where even just the simple suggestion of a touch, a breath, a threat, could get her fired up. She had become so incredibly hyper-sensitive, that, by the cold light of reality – which neither of us could see at the time – in retrospect, it was destroying her life." I chuckled, wryly, "But what a way to go.

"And I was changing – being changed, too. As much as I loved Tillie – or at least loved to lust for her, I loved the whole – what – situation, I guess – I loved the whole, novel, wild situation more. It became a power thing, and the power went to my head, or to my dick, corrupting any decency it happened upon – any decency or morality or rationality.

"We were past the point of no return and we didn't even know it – in fact we hadn't even considered... though, I suppose I can only really speak for myself – I hadn't even considered that any return to normalcy needed to be an option. So there we were, committed, by chance, to this steep, steep dive into the morass of depravity. Looking back, even from this still quite close perspective, I should have seen the sign: 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter!'

"We had already done everything either of us had ever fantasized about; now we were onto spontaneous whims, activities and positions we had never, ever considered, even in our wildest dreams." I looked up at Matt, again. He was watching me intently. "You want an example?" I didn't wait for a reply. "Here's an example:

"One time, as a punishment, I don't even remember what the transgression was – not that it matters anyway – it was all bogus. Anyway, this one time I fitted Tillie with a jerry-rigged gag-like harness holding a latex cock in her mouth. I must have thought it up earlier, for I remember I had everything ready, just waiting for her toearn some discipline. A strap, attached to the back of the gag/harness and pulling it tight, ran down her back, along the crack of her ass and up into the front, where it fastened her bound hands to another thick dildo which was insinuated deep into her vagina. Pushing the rubber dong even deeper into her cunt, released, slightly, the pressure on the shaft in her throat, and vice versa. She was instructed to frig herself for fifteen minutes, without coming. If she came too soon, the clock would start again. She lasted about an hour and a half – about eight or nine orgasms. It was bizarre."

I shook my head at the recollection, and sipped my beer. Matt just sat, silently enthralled with my story. "But it gets better – or worse," I interjected, waiting a moment before continuing.

"You know those little butterfly, clitoral vibrator things? I got her one of them with a wireless remote control. I'd sit in the mall, outside her shop, watching her surreptitiously, randomly turning it on. Well, it was random at first. I'd switch it on when no one else was in the store, and watch her deal with her arousal. I'd let her build, then shut it off – especially if a customer came in. It was evil-mean, but it was fun to watch. As soon as the customer left I'd fire it up again and watch her stand stiff behind the counter, quivering through her orgasm.

"Of course, that didn't last long. Soon I was bringing her to the edge, over and over, then leaving her hanging; waiting until she was dealing with customers before letting her – forcing her – to climax. She got plenty of puzzled looks, I'll tell you, suddenly going stiff – shivering and whimpering in the middle of a transaction. I'm sure the customers thought she was having a seizure or something.

"But even that eventually – surprisingly quickly, actually – got boring and predictable; so I replaced the butterfly with a vibrating butt-plug." I amazed myself at how matter-of-fact I was in the retelling of these intimate, kinky details. Matt leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The anal stimulation," I explained, "is slower, but more inexorable, and, in the end, more powerful. It was quite a challenge to keep her on the edge for, say, an hour or more, then bring her off at just the right – just the most inopportune moment. I know it sounds almost sadistic, but she would invariably rave about it to me after work.

"One of the last anal orgasms we did at work, she almost collapsed. Her knees went to jelly, and she had to hang onto the counter for support. The customer, a twenty-ish young fellow, thought she was fainting and rushed around the counter to assist her. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. 'I was so fucking aroused,' she told me later, 'that I was trying to will him to fuck me. He tried to set me down and asked if he should call for help. I told him that he was all the help I needed, but when I grabbed at the front of his pants he got scared and fled. Shit!'