The Thirty Fourth Position

I'd seen contortionists in variety shows. The males hadn't done anything for me, but the women had me on the edge of my seat. It wasn't so much the knots they tied themselves in, it was the way they bent right over backwards and pushed their crotches right out at the audience and then brought their heads forward between their legs. If you knelt down in front of them and kissed their mouths, you'd be only a few inches from their other mouths. I couldn't have been the only male having lascivious thoughts like that, surely.

All I could do was imagine what one would be like stripped---stark naked instead of in bra and tights---in my bedroom at home and waiting for me to slide into that protruding crotch.

So a year or so later, when I was introduced to a five foot ten elegantly stacked blonde named Sharon at a party and she said she was a professional contortionist, I nearly blew it. But I managed to cover up, and the conversation naturally got round to whether she was married and what she did in her spare time and did she tie herself in knots for her husband.

"Not married," she said. "Give me time. Besides, I don't meet many men socially, and most of those seem to think there's something queer about being double-jointed."

"I don't," I said eagerly. "It sounds fascinating. I wish you'd do it for me."

"Do what?" she countered archly. And I knew I was half-way there.

"Do your act," I said. "Show me all the contortions you get into. It sounds real sexy."

She smiled in a superior way. "I wondered when the conversation would get round to sex." "What have you really got in mind, sex or seeing my act?"

I jumped right in. "Both."

She looked me straight in the eyes, and said nothing. At least she hadn't refused, or walked away. "There must be something wrong with those other guys," I said. "I fell in love with you on sight."

"At five foot ten? Don't I intimidate you?"

I looked down at the cleavage leading to where her breasts were forcing out the material of a tight stretched blouse. Breasts? They were tits, beautiful tits with pointed tips where her nipples showed plainly through her blouse . "If you want to talk measurements, I'm more interested in thirty six inches than five foot ten."

"Thirty five, actually, but thanks for the compliment." She smiled at last. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

I licked my lips and looked her in the eye. "I'd like the

opportunity to notice in more detail."

"C-cup," she added.

"It's not figures I'm interested in," I said. "Except yours. I'd rather find out for myself."

Well, I think I had it made all along, but we jousted for a while more before she finally gave in. "You really want to see me do my thing? Or is this just to get me into bed?"

I hesitated. Then, "Both. Very definitely both. How about coming home tonight"

"Not tonight," she said. "Anyway, if you really want to see my act I'll have to have my costume. But my room mate's away on Tuesday."

My mind flashed back to the costumes I'd seen on stage. Brassiere and tights usually. Better than fully dressed, and we'd see how long it took to get her out of them. I could hardly believe she was serious. But I spent the next three days imagining what those tits would look like thrust out of her torso as she bent over backward. And whether whoever had invented the thirty three positions had thought of fucking a girl who could almost lick his balls at the same time.

It was a novel experience going to a girl's apartment. I'd always finished up taking them home to my place. It was somehow more intimate, being among her things, with her perfume about the place. And she seemed more confident as she poured me a drink in the tiny kitchen and smiled at me over the glass. "I really wasn't sure whether you'd come. Or whether you'd really want to see my act. So I didn't get all dressed up in case. I'm glad you're here."

She seemed quite anxious to perform for me, and I wasn't about to delay her. She went into her bedroom to change, and I looked through a scrap book of her photographs. It was almost like looking through a porn magazine. Her tits had been almost bursting her blouse at the party, but the tasseled bras she wore in the pictures hardly covered them at all. Thank god there were no tights, just skin tight panties that only just covered a crotch that I couldn't take my eyes off. After the first two pages I had a hard bigger than I'd felt in weeks.

There was a burst of music as her bedroom door flew open, and nearly six feet of bare flesh cart-wheeled into the room. It was a very professional performance, I suppose, but I wasn't concerned with that. All I could concentrate on were two long shapely legs that kept wrapping themselves round every other part of her, two thighs that disappeared up inside the briefest of panties--no tassels, so I guessed the panties were not really part of the costume but especially for my benefit---a gap between the thighs that I knew I could get my face into, a jewelled navel and an expanse of naked belly that swelled out from the panty top that hardly covered her pubic mound, and oh my god! those gorgeous thirty-five C's that I had only been able to guess at were threatening to burst out of two tiny sequined triangles as they rolled and thrust and hung their way through the act.

And then, with her back arched backward and her hands clutching her ankles from behind and her face looking at me from between her thighs, she walked to where I sat, and deliberately moved her feet apart till her thighs were spread wide, and the narrow strip of material that covered her crotch was stretched tightly over the crotch that I could have leaned forward and pressed my face into if I had dared.

Then slowly she turned till her tits were facing me, beautiful white globes that hung away from her belly so that the undersides were uppermost, nothing concealed by the sequins but the nipples I could only guess at. Her torso shook from side to side, and her tits quivered. inches from my face. Was she teasing me? Was she inviting me? I didn't care which. I leaned forward and put my fingers under the pearly string that held the two triangles together, lifting it and dragging the pasties off the protruding tips of those pointed mounds. And there they were, nipples to die for, large nipples befitting the magnificence of the breasts supporting them, red nipples as big as raspberries projecting from dark swollen aureoles.

Instantly I was on my knees, my mouth fastened to one of thosethe raspberries and my fingers caressing the other. Those fantasies from years before came into my mind. I was actually living them. But the body was turning, dragging that delicious nipple out of my mouth. I kept my fingers playing round and round the other until that, too, was out of reach. But now her face , ludicrously looking at me from between her own thighs, turned toward me, and she was talking.

"How d'you like the act?"

I didn't want to talk, and there was nothing to be said. I fastened my mouth on hers and explored it with my tongue. But there was another mouth just above that needed my attention, and I drew away so that I could look at the wide open thighs and the space between. I put my fingers under the top band of her panties where the pubic hair was peeping out, and pulled it down. I could get it down to the bottom of her love mound and her blonde bush surged out, but her open thighs prevented it going lower. By this time my prick was clamoring inside my y-fronts and nothing was going to stop me. I put my fingers inside one leg-vent of the panties, across her mound and out of the other, and ripped the flimsy nylon that was between me and the open cunt within.

She gave a little scream, but she made no objection. Her wide open crotch was naked, exposed for my pleasure. And for hers too. Her outer lips were open, either pulled apart by her open thighs or an indication that she was already plenty horny and ready for games. Labia majora, the name came unbidden into my mind, and I banished it quickly because it was the labia minora that I was hungry for. I pressed my mouth to that open flower, opening it more with my tongue, and two more petals forced their way into my mouth, soft,warm, moist delights that seemed to swell as I sucked them,

I felt like a bee, feasting on the nectar in the depths of a flower's sexual secrets, and I wanted to stay and drink all night. But it was the sexual secrets in the depths of the flower that Sharon was thrusting at me that drew me further into her cunt, opening it with my tongue and exploring within. Then I felt Sharon's hands behind my head, forcing my face against her crotch till my tongue probed the wetness of her vagina. She gave a little shriek from the other mouth that was so close below my face, and I guessed that perhaps I had touched her G-spot.

Sharon pulled my head away so that I could look at her face, and whispered, "Fuck me, please darling, I can't wait any more."

For as long as I had watched contortionists on the stage I had dreamed of adding one more position to the so-called thirty three positions for love---it had seemed to me a fantastic position for fucking.

I stood up, unzipping my fly and dragging out a throbbing, swollen prick. That beautiful naked cunt had become an open tunnel, the tumescent lips hanging free and the interior of Sharon's vagina glistening with the nectar waiting to lubricate the prick that was about to probe her very entrails. And then my knob was entering, opening it wider, sliding inside. I put my hands behind her to hold her from falling backward, instinctively feeling for her buttocks, but it was her breasts that my hands clasped, breasts incredibly where her ass cheeks should have been. Greedily I grabbed them and pulled her toward me, feeling the hard nipples in my palms. And that hot wet tunnel opened to me and sucked me into the depths of her, till my belly was pressed hard against hers.

I wanted to fuck her properly, to withdraw my prick and thrust it back into her hungry vagina, to feel it sliding in and out and watch her reaction .But I had waited too long. I was almost cumming by the time I entered her, and the feel of her tumescent nipples and the pressure of her vaginal muscles took me over the top.

As I kneaded one tit and squeezed the other nipple, pulling her tightly against me, I could feel the semen surging from inside me in great throbs to pour deep into her willing cunt. I wanted to pull out and feel the friction of that tight canal, but all I could do was force my prick as far up inside her belly as it would go while I gave myself up to the intensity of my cumming.

It was not a long lasting fuck, but the orgasm was like none I had ever experienced. It must have been that thirty fourth position that did it. Sharon and I will be trying it out again, but there are thirty three others to experiment with as well..

-The end-