The Black Book of Sex Pt. 01

It took a little longer this time, and though he felt exhausted already, he strained against her fist as she massaged and twisted it upon him, sending him again into ecstasies heretofore unknown. He climaxed a second time, his balls tight against his body. He gave a long, low groan and arched his back up off the bed. He trembled with anticipation, knowing that he may never feel this torrent of pleasure, not like this at least, ever again.

Her hand was becoming dry and she deftly replaced it with her other hand, still squatting over him, and he felt fresh moistness... a welcome relief to his overstimulated skin, only now threatening to become sore. She had used her other hand to retrieve lubrication from her own sex and this made her hand slip nicely and pleasingly over his tortured member.

She then began to stroke him lightly, and he made light noises, as of a beast that had given in, but was also somehow begging for more, frightened to continue, frightened it might end. _Like an animal caught in a trap_, the mysterious author's words. With her other hand she reached up and grabbed one of his bum cheeks, tensing and hard from thrusting upwards in his ecstasy. She grabbed his cheek hard, then ran a probing finger all along the top of the crevice, and then down, sliding around the outside of his anus. He was nearly apoplectic with urgent joy. She slipped the fingertip of a still wet finger just inside the periphery of his anus, and with her other hand formed a similarly tight ring, her forefinger curling around his cock... and began to milk him. It didn't take long before she finally got the response she wanted. His chest was heaving as he strained against her, and she gently pressed him down onto the bed, commanding him to relax. He collapsed onto the bed, his member spasming inside the ring of her forefinger, and then a single drop of liquid appeared on the tip. She quickly and greedily closed her mouth over the head of his penis, lapping at the little dot, and she made a sound of extreme pleasure.

I sat back and put the book down, and sipped at my tea.

What had I just read? Some of the word choices made by the mysterious author... they were... odd. I chalked it up to them trying to evoke a certain "ye olde time" style.

Despite the tea, I went off to sleep quickly and found myself visited by the witch, and Martyn, in my dreams. I was standing in the clearing watching the pair of them, as the story unfolded before my eyes. I somehow knew I was dreaming, a lucid dream! What a rarity! And she was there, with her ample bosom barely clothed beneath a see-through material, he with his youthful face staring up at her. Those blood-red lips, the slight smile, a delicate hand leading him inside.

I found myself peering through the window at them as they undressed. The beautiful round curves of his youthful buttocks, her curvaceous figure and tender touch caressing him viewed through bubbled and warped glass. Then I was in the room, and I could smell the scent of sex. She pushed him down onto the bed, caressing and playing with his light pink nipples. Then I was next to them, looking down on them. She had both her hands holding his chest as she rocked against him, both thumbs rubbing concentric circles around his nipples. They gazed into the eyes of the other, and somehow, also into mine. Desire. Lust. Wanton abandonness. Then I felt them against my sex, his slick and wet cock and her dripping vulva, coated in juices, slipping and sliding against my own hardness.

I awoke the next morning in a daze, my pyjamas soaked and sticky in front; something that hadn't happened in years and years, a wet dream. The memories of the dream came back to me in a flood. I remember their lovemaking, me watching close up, the smell of them. His urgent sounds, her gasping, the pleasant sounds of sucking and release, driving me nearly mad. I remember multiple sets of hands upon me, like the exhibitionists, there seemed to be more hands than people present, caressing, touching, gripping, stroking. A nipple in my welcome mouth, another mouth closing over mine at the same time, tongues probing and looping over one another. I felt mouths over my sex, sucking and driving me to distraction, the head of my cock caressed by a long tongue, while another mouth sucked on my balls. Heaven.

And then I started to stroke myself as I remembered feeling his cock against mine, touching and rubbing together in the most delicious way, her expert hands stroking us together, frotting and... I began to rut. Our world become our two cocks, encircled first by a mouth, and then a narrow slit that engulfs them both. I remember exploding over him, the warm salty wetness, slick and viscous, coating him as he slid against me inside her. I started to cum as I remembered how vivid the dream became, feeling his balls tight against him while she laughed pure and utter joy. Then a three-way kiss, with her pendulous tits pressing against me on one side, and his lightly muscled and lithe body on the other. I had never before thought of such things in broad daylight, but the promise of them lingered.

I looked at the book, fresh cum in my hand, my dick growing finally limp and sore, and felt as if the book were looking back.

End Part One