Tiger Tiger Burning Bright

She giggled, reminding him of her daughter. She raised one eyebrow as she looked up at him, "Wanna get safe before pizza?"

He smiled, liking that they we're speaking the same language. "Safety first indeed."

She bent at the waist to check the oven window. it gave him a chance to check out her small, well rounded ass, looking as good covered by denim as it had in the bikini bottoms. Again her caught a glimpse of a tattoo but could not identify it. She turned off the oven with a flick of the wrist and a "that'll stay warm."

After topping off their glasses with the thick ale, she opened her sliding glass door, revealing an dark opening surrounded by thick green leaves. "Follow me, young man."

He shook his head. "How did you get those two to rent you this unit? They always left it vacant so they could keep this place private. I don't think the other tenants even know its here."

"They don't. I owe a lot to your aunt and uncle." She paused and her voice dropped to a whisper, almost to herself. "They've been good to me, especially Marta, better than I could imagine."

He could already feel the moisture on his body, sweaty like a sauna. At her words he felt his temperature rise and trickle of sweat rundown his spine. He almost twitched at the images that came to him from her simple statement.

Uncle Steve, his mother's brother, had married a strong, tall woman, several years his junior. She had been a competitive beach volleyball player and swimmer. They had met when Steve was a visiting business instructor at UC San Diego and she was a graduate student. Steve would always say in way of explanation, "She forced herself on me and I couldn't resist."

Marta would usually shush him then, or just shake her head. "You shouldn't go telling stories, you bad, bad boy."

He had only seen Uncle Steven back here a couple times. This was Aunt Marta's retreat. She liked it tropical, sultry. And Marta generally got her way.

Sandi lifted the seat of one of the teak chairs, revealing a hidden compartment, and pulled out a small tray with some crumbled pot on it and pack of papers. She sat and carefully crease the paper, then piled a health amount of green on top and started to roll the joint. It would be a fatty.

As she busied herself, Steve's thoughts went back to his first stay here, how his tall hard-bodied aunt looked in this spa, her athletic cut aqua blue two piece clinging wet to her body, and how she had taken his virginity. Taken was the right word, as she gave him little choice in matter. Not that he would have said no if she'd asked.

That summer and the years following she taught him how to please a woman, and many ways a woman could please him, but he had eventually also learned that he liked much the same thing Marta did. They both liked to be in control, in different ways. She liked to use more 'toys' to get that control; he just preferred to feel dominant. Shortly before he was to leave, the next to last time he had sex with his Aunt, he had taken control from her for the first time. Done what he'd wanted, positioning her how he could best get it.

She had taught him well, making it easy to turn the tables on her. It was still one of his peak experiences, and often images from that day cropped up in his fantasies. Even after he realized she had still been in charge. Leading him on to help him recognize something important about his own wants and desires.

The sound and flicker of the lighter in the dim, filtered light brought him back to the present, and the beautiful athletic woman, much shorter than Marta, he was with now. He was aware of the arousal his memories had brought with them.

"I hope you don't mind second hand smoke," she said as she walked over to him, then drew hard on the fatty, causing the end to glow brightly as she inhaled.

"Not this kind," he replied. "Did you get that term from Aunt Marta too?"

"I got a lot from your Aunt Marta." Her voice sounded constricted as she held the smoke in. He caught her smile in the half light as her eyes flicked to the far corner of the enclosure where a thin curtain no doubt still hid a comfortable daybed. A daybed equipped with some surprises to aid Marta's 'games.'

The first time he had experienced her idea of 'second hand smoke' his wrists had been cuffed to that day bed. After endless teasing, Marta had sat back and taken a long slow inhale of pot. She'd leaned over his face, stroked his cheek and whispered in the same tight voice Sandi had just used to speak without exhaling, "Open your mouth and inhale, slowly."

Then she had covered his mouth with hers, timing her exhalation with his inhale to blow the pot smoke directly from her lungs into his. "Good boy. Now hold it in as long as you can."

Marta's tongue had teased his lips then as he held it. When he tried to meet it with his, hers pulled back. Kissing, like everything else, was always on Marta's terms.

He took a long gulp of the strong ale and set the glass down.

Sandi reached up on her toes and tilted her head back, her lips parted. Her hand that was not holding the joint went lightly to the back of his neck. Without their lips touching, he inhaled as she exhaled, breathing in her breath. Anyone watching closely could have seen a thin column of smoke passing between them.

He held his breath in as she held his head. After he couldn't hold it any longer he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, rather than into her face, already feeling that familiar warm feeling coursing through his blood. It had been a while. And Marta always had killer buds. Back home in Ohio, he had only been able to get really good stuff like this once, last Fall, visiting a friend who lived near Athens. Lush hills perfect for growing herb.

His lips found hers. His hands went to her hips as his tongue flicked lightly over her upper lip. The kiss deepened, but stayed soft and comfortable as their tongues lightly met, slid over one another. His fingers found belt loops and tugged her hips tightly against him, his thumbs tracing over the smooth bare skin of the belly he had glimpsed coming down the stairs, now slick with a sheen of sweat. With her hips held to his she could not miss the bulge pressed against her. She leaned in further.

Almost inaudibly, she moaned, like a sugar-loving dieter savoring their first chocolate morsel after weeks of denial. "Mmmm." He could feel the vibration more than hear it.

After a moment she used one hand to gently push herself back, enjoying the feel of his chest under her palm, and looked up at him. He still held her lower half against him, forcing her back to arch. "Thanks. I needed that; it's been a while."

Pushing him away harder, with almost a slap to his chest, she cocked her head to the side as her brow furrowed. He released her hips from his grip. "You didn't kiss my daughter like that, did you?"

He laughed, more aware of the growing bulge the second kiss had brought on now that it had no one to press against. "No. She was too...urgent. Quick out of the gate and in a hurry to deliver the punch line. Probably lasted about a second."

"Good. She has more ideas than she does experience. But enough curiosity to get into trouble. Fortunately Johnny, her boyfriend, was a late bloomer too. So from what I gather they are still at the awkward fumbling stage. What scares me is she's a quick study once she sets her mind to something."

She grabbed his hands, entwining her fingers with his while pulling them low against her thighs, leaned in and kissed his cheek, then sent another thrill to his groin when he felt her teeth ever so lightly nip his jawline. "Well, enough about you kissing other girls. Ready to eat?"

"Almost," he replied. With a quick twist he pinned both hands behind her lower back and pulled her to him. He covered her surprised gasp with his mouth and kissed her hard. She pulled briefly against his grip then pressed into him, her groan louder this time. Yes, Marta would like this little one.

He released her hands, one of his going up to her neck, pulling her head against his chest while the other arm tightly circled her waist. He felt a shudder run through her body before she relaxed, leaning heavily against his frame.

Now it was his turn to push her back, enough that he could kiss her forehead lightly. "Almost ready. How bout another hit first?"

Another second hand hit and what followed led to the idea of of soaking in the large spa again before eating. He had stripped down to his boxer briefs; Sandi slipped off her vest and jeans, but left on her T and simple cotton panties.

He had gone down the ladder into the hot water first and stood in the middle of the round spa. She had had eased herself down the ladder facing him, forcing her chest to push out against the thin cotton. Standing just in front of Steve, she dunked herself under, then stood upright again.

Once wet the T hid little, accentuated much. Her breasts were tiny but perfectly shaped. He could clearly see the shape of a bar piercing her left nipple. She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him with a frenzy that contrasted with the comfortable closeness from earlier. She was hungry, and not for pizza.

Wrapping him tighter in her arms, Sandi hopped up in the shallow water and slung both legs around his hips, locking her ankles behind him. Steve caught her with an arm hard around her slim waist and the other hand cupping her ass cheek.

She pressed hard against him and her tongue got more frantic as he felt her nipples, so hard they felt almost sharp, poke his chest. He was completely hard now, trapped between them.

His head was spinning. Mainly because of this beautiful sexy little creature who was grinding against him, combined with a lack of sleep, mental exhaustion, strong scotch ale, and good Cali green bud.

She lurched as her hips pushed harder against him and he stumbled back in the water. His knees hit the spa bench behind him and he sat, surprising gracefully. Sandi had unwrapped her legs as he fell back, so she ended up standing facing him. Her breasts were right in front of his face, beautifully enhanced by the thin, clinging wet shirt. Smiling, he slid both hands under her top and up, until each cupped a perfect little tit, amazed by how hard her nipples felt under his palms. Steve groaned. He slipped his hands back down to the hem of the shirt and started to pull it up and off her.

Sandi pushed back away from him and his hands. Momentarily, he thought he had crossed a line. Then she crossed her arms and grabbed the hem herself, pulling the soaked T up and over her head. She turned to throw it back onto dry land by the ladder.

He gasped. When she turned, he finally got a good look at her tattoos. He had never seen anything quite like it, and he could feel the sight sow how confirm his compelling attraction to this woman.

Nine paw or claw prints ran up either side of her spine. That in itself was not unusual. It was the detail. These weren't simple paw prints. The shadowing, the detail, made it look like an animal, with nasty claws, had pressed the imprint deep into her back. Each paw ended in dark shadowy holes where each claw would have dug in, piercing her flesh. The illusion was incredible.

He stood again and leaned closer.

Each print was beautifully wrought with tiny lettering and symbols forming into almost conventional looking tiger paw prints, but shaded to make it look like they were really walking up her back, pressed into her flesh. He could not make out the words, written in letters which would have been completely invisible if viewed from more than a couple feet away.

He placed both hands on her back, a little spooked by the appearance of the mystic-looking details. One hand fell on either side of her spine, each covering one paw print. He ran a finger over the claw marks, almost expecting to feel the holes left by the beast.

Suddenly he seemed to know that the beast was a tiger, and the tiger's paws were his paws, claws mainly retracted into pads pinning her down, pressed hard into her flesh. He was the tiger, and she was his.

He saw himself pounding into her from behind with a very human cock while he had to fight the urge to bite her at the joint between her shoulder and neck with all-too feline canines. Without thought he growled deep in his throat. The vision left as quickly as it came.

He felt light headed, and sat back on the submerged seat in a daze. Sandi backed up to him and sat on his lap. She leaned back against him, her back to his chest, then pulled both his limp arms around her waist. He responded by hugging her tighter and resting one cheek against her back. He felt suddenly drained.

She started to speak. "You're the first man to see my marks in a very long time."

She paused before continuing. Steve's mind and body were slowly recovering from whatever had happened. Her voice was low, with more than a trace of bitter sarcasm. "He would have Pan Lo, this old Thai wise man fly in and give me one tattoo each time I earned it, he said. The ten step path to the ultimate, when the ten mystic secrets of tantric pleasure would manifest themselves. It took nine tattoos and too many years for me to wizen up enough to realize what an asshole he was. It took five more years before the rest of the world realized it."

"Huh?" Steve was still feeling tired and high, but more normal. Sandi was leaning back against him as they sat and she had to feel his raging hard on between the first two paw prints just above her ass. He hadn't realized how acutely turned on he was. He pulled her back a little more and rested his chin on her shoulder from behind. He could see over her shoulder to the glint of metal on her tiny nipple.

She explained 'he' was Richardus Martin, the cult leader suspected of all kinds of things before being convicted of extortion and witness tampering. He had been courted by politicians and pop stars before the truth came out.

She shivered. "I don't know why I told you that. I never talk about him."

"Well, I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. There had to be a story behind those tattoos. He held her closer.

"Thanks for making me feel safe." she said, before she leaned up and back and kissed him softly. As she moved back against him his hands slid over her. The left hand went down her belly under the spa waters, the right ending at her left breast, first brushing the pierced nipple with his palm, then cupping the perfect small orb from below while his thumb and first finger gave her nipple a slow, slight pinch. She moaned and flicked out her tongue, finding his. His pinch turned to a rolling action. He could feel the metal inside her sensitive flesh. The unpierced right nipple had crinkled into a tiny button under his touch. She squirmed back against him.

She kissed him deeply, for only an instant, then twisted away, ending up facing him just outside his reach, her mouth open and eyes wild.

" Are you sure I'm safe with you?" she asked, staring into his eyes.

He smiled and glanced over toward the half joint on the table nearby. "I can get you safer if you want, but I can assure you that, yes, indeed, you are safe with me."

"Thanks." She moved back to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her fingers running through his thick wet hair as she knelt over him, one knee on each side of him on the submerged spa bench. She bent down to kiss him and whispered. "I needed to be sure. I hardly know you but something keeps telling me not to stop."

The tip of his cock, still rock hard and half convinced it was attached to a horny tiger, bumped into her thigh before sliding up to find the thin fabric of her panties. He heard a soft 'mmmm' sound and felt her move down on his lap enough that his cock slid up between them, bouncing against her belly before she rose up enough that the tip again just pushed against her cloth covered opening.

Hands still in his hair, she pulled his head forward to her chest. His mouth eagerly sucked in her pierced nipple, not gently, flicking, sucking, kneading. He could feel her sensitive flesh and the metal underneath it with his lips and tongue.

Her hands tightened in his hair, her lower body thrust forward, trapping his cock between them, pressing so hard he could feel her lips wrapping around him through the thin wet cotton.

Without using his nails too much, he dug all 10 fingers into her black like claws, raking down from her shoulder blades to her hips while pulling her in to him forcefully and rolling her nipple harder between her lips and tongue. Again, a growl like a tiger escaped him without conscious thought.

She came. She groaned, pulled his hair, whispered "No, I can't, I can't." Her body racked against his in wave after wave as he struggled to hold her. Her back arched, her sudden movement pulling them together off the bench. Her legs wrapped around his hips again and her arms surrounded him squeezing. "I can't stop."

He held her tight, whispered, "Don't stop. Let it go. I've got you." And she did let go as she convulsed again and again, the full-body spasms finally diminishing until she just shook in his arms, gently stroking her hair, floating together now in the middle of the spa.

He felt her lips soft on his neck. "Wow. . I don't usually...I mean it takes more...I think I should be embarrassed, but I'm too relaxed."

Still, she pushed her hips against him, focusing on where he pressed back so hard against her. He heard laughter in her voice at her own line she said, "Well, enough about me."

She reached down between them with both hands, gripping his hard cock and pumping it through the wet fabric with one while the other hand reached under his waistband. "Let's learn a little bit about you."

Steve's stomach chose that moment to gurgle so loudly they both heard it above the sound of the spa. They both made the same mock surprised face, laughing.

Sandi looked down at his face more closely. "You're not going to pass out on me are you?"

Steve seemed to droop as he considered. "I don't think so. But I am so tired. As bad as I want to pick you up and carry you over to Aunt Marta's bed - my bed now - then throw you down and do unspeakable things to you, I'm running out of gas."

He explained his afternoon's lack of napping, and it dawned on him he hadn't eaten anything since a drive through breakfast near Magic Mountain. They agreed it was time for pizza and both demanded and received promises to continue later where they left off.

An hour later, they reclined together on the couch, watching reruns. Pizza happily digesting. Steve's thoughts wandered again to those tattoos. Tiger's claws. He knew. Somehow.

Just like he knew how it felt to dig those heavy claws into struggling flesh, to open wide the huge toothy jaws of the jungle cat.

Sandi looked up at him, laughter in her eyes. "Is somebody ready for Round

2?"

Tent pole. His crotch was the circus Big Tent. A small hand explored his outline through his pants. It squeezed a bit. "You're awfully hard, young man. Does it hurt?"

He couldn't resist a slow pitch strike like that. "Not if you go slow and use lubricant."

She unzipped his fly popped the button. With his underwear in her dryer, nothing stopped the tent pole from popping straight to vertical. She laughed and grabbed it, bringing it to her mouth. "I can't promise but I'll try."

She got most of the head past her lips the first try, the ridge around the base wet with her saliva with the second, and found room for half his length somewhere in her mouth with the third.

She reared back and sucked in a deep breath, and then pushed herself to stand above him. "Stay here, I want to show you something. But I need to rinse off first. Wait for me."

She turned at the door. "And when I get back, whatever happens, please try to be gentle. I think I like you."