Pammy Submits Ch. 04bylawn©
So, the bitch passed out. Her head lolled back, eyes closed, mouth slack.
'Damn, woman,' I spat. I had plans for a drunk girl all giggly and feeling good. She needed to vent that steam. She needed to prance around and laugh and enjoy being her. I was going to let her off the hook for a night. She'd earned it. Too fucking bad. I'd drain her out another way.
Now, I had not a flashing, chortling, dancing, party girl, but snoring meat on a slab -- well, meat on a couch. Pammy was well-dressed meat on a couch, however. I had to admit that. I had her put on the black business suit and sheer tan pantyhose we'd bought earlier. It still looked tailored enough as she lay on her side, head back, legs at an angle and knees together trailing off the couch to the floor, her plump feet pressing against my coffee table. If you would put thick black glasses on her and she would look like a sleeping librarian. Her right arm fell back next to her face palm up, her left down draped across her tummy. Her skirt, already short, had ridden up from her teasing me before she passed out showing a lot of leg. What were the woman's last words before she slept.
'Don't be mad. You can do me while I sleep. You can...' Yeah, something like that.'
Men are dogs. I pushed the coffee table away from the couch. Her feet, made slippery by her pantyhose, slid forward straightening her legs. The shift of balanced caused her hips to roll flatter on the couch. Her legs splayed out and parted. I gave her a good long look. I felt a stirring in my cargo shorts. Men are dogs.
I stepped over, took a hold of her face, and shook her. One last chance for Pammy.
'Pammy, hey!' I shook her again. 'I'm gonna do you in your sleep, hear me?'
She moaned and sort of smiled. Okay bitch. I was pissed but I was horny. Still, there were things I liked and this could be a chance.
Now, sleep sex is a great fantasy. I'd seen some of it online and was titillated. It is a fantasy but some of the things those pics and films showed were stupid -- especially in real life. Some of the things depicted required cooperative models that were not asleep -- not for real. Any fool dumb enough to put his dick in a drugged girl's mouth asked for a circumcision and I was already cut.
That did not stop me from pulling at her jaw to peer in her open mouth. I pushed her mouth shut and tickled at her chin. Maybe another time we can play pretend, I thought.
I stepped over Pammy's legs and sat beside her. I looked her up and down and thought about things.
Sleep sex seems to be about the forbidden. It seems to be about a chemical magic that grants to a man access to what is forbidden. It gives power over those that forbid. Well, Pammy did not forbid me. The girl forbad me nothing. However, I could play it that way for a moment. I've seen the porn sites.
Touching comes first and I liked to touch. I loved touching women's legs in nylons and I picked the pair Pammy wore just for me. I reached out to cup the knee of Pammy's closest leg. I ran my hand up her thigh loving the smoothness, loving the warmth beneath, loving the look I got of Pammy's flawless skin. I ran my hand up along the other leg splayed out from the first as the extended from the couch straight and slightly parted. Back to the first leg, I attended to the inner thigh of the leg nearest me making sure to go up under her black skirt until I touched where they met.
Like all leg men, I assumed, I had a favorite leg part. Feet for some men, knees for others, thighs or ass, for me it is the inner thigh. I let my hand -- my eyes -- explore that inner thigh, Pammy's skin is surely her best feature.
Next in the fantasy is seizing a view of that that is forbidden. Always, it is the pussy that is forbidden.I lifted Pammy's skirt. Her shiny pantyhose tightly encased her hips pressing and darkening her red-haired bush. However, her legs were still too close together.
I slid my hand down her thigh again taking the time to enjoy touching her. I pulled that leg toward me until her thighs parted. The slick sheer nylon seemed to grasp tightly at Pammy's pussy. It pressed on her pubes making a dark tangled patch of color. My hand came up to cup her pussy. Held so tightly, her flesh was firm under my hand, firm and slick, not wet though. Holding my hand on her pussy, I looked again at Pammy's sleeping face. No reaction to my touching those tender part showed.
I pondered a moment. What came next in those porn sites. The Americans always seemed to think it was time to shove their dicks into the girls mouth. Not me. I have trust issues. She might clamp down with those teeth. The Japanese knew better. Time to take a pet and a look at sleeping tits.
Reaching up under Pammy's hips, I straightened her a bit and moved the arm laying across her tummy to rest along her side. This caused her to lay more on her back than her side. I unbuttoned the bunched jacket and spread it wide. The prim gauzy white shirt stretched tightly across Pammy's torso. The shadow of her nipples and areolas showed through the fabric, nipples causing little bumps. I went to kneel on the other side of Pammy's splayed legs close to her.
'Idiot,' I whispered looking on her face. There would be repercussions.
My fingers stretched forth to rub at Pammy's nipples. I pressed at the softness of her breasts. I cupped the breasts and squeezed them. Slowly, one at a time, I fumbled at undoing each button of her shirt. Pulling the shirttails from where they tucked into Pammy's black skirt, I spread the shirt wide. The breasts trembled delightfully as they were freed from the press of the cloth. They lolled apart finding the set on her ribs gravity provided.
My eyes explored those breasts, trying to see them as if I'd not seen them before. Soft, smooth, gentle, hand-sized masses of contentment. Skin flawless. Nipples pale. Unable to resist, my hands began to play, to stroke, to squeeze, to tweak. I bent down to press my face on them, to smell them, to lick and suckle them.
With a mouth full of nipple, I let my hand feel its way along her ribs and across her belly. I pushed down passed the woven material of her skirt and explored the press of nylon covering her pussy. I petted those pantyhosed thighs as I sucked nipple.
With some effort, I reached up under that skirt, found the waistband of her pantyhose, and forced my hand over Pammy's bush. It took a little squirming to work my hand to her pussy. Her flesh was softer and squishy no longer held so tightly by the nylon. I massaged her pussy. I probed. Sleeping Pammy was dry. I rubbed the surface slowly in small circles for a moment. No wetness came. No reaction on Pammy's slack face. My hand slid out and I made an effort to straighten the pantyhose as it stretched across her belly. Then I replaced the skirt --for the moment.
Having Pammy knocked out and spread out on my couch, I admitted to myself, gave a certain amount of pleasure. As did having her snoring form waiting for me to do anything I wanted. I stood to pull my shirt over my head and drop my cargo shorts to the ground. I straddled Pammy's right leg and knelt. My balls touched her thigh just above her knee. I moved, rotated, slowly letting those balls brush across her pantyhose. That was delightful.
I picked up Pammy's knee making sure to smush my balls with it and drag it along my stiffening prick. I propped up the leg at crotch level holding on to her thigh with both hands to steady it. My hips shifted back and forth to drag my prick back and forth across Pammy's knee feeling the contours of it. I was fully hard now. So, for a few minutes I treated myself to a knee job courtesy of sleeping Pammy.
It was nice to drag across her knee. It was nice to grasp her thigh feeling her warm flesh encased in those shiny smooth pantyhose.
I squirmed to kneel between both her legs and enjoyed stroking her thighs with the palms my hands. I looked at her up and down, her sleeping face, tits showing from the open shirt, belly, skirt, legs. Nice.
I bent down to her legs. They smelled good. The chemical waft of the pantyhose, a hint of sweat, the warm scent of flesh, the shadow aroma of Pammy's pussy, all blended into sensory heaven. I ran my nose along her thighs inhaling deeply letting my nose touch and feel her. I kissed her thigh tasting the chemical saltiness with my tongue. I moved up into her crotch pushing up her skirt with my face. I pressed my mouth tight against her nylon-covered pussy. I kissed. I licked. Pammy's thighs pressed firmly against my cheeks and ears. Her inert body was mine and I indulged. In a moment, my mouth, her pussy, were sloppy wet.
This was fun enough but my prick began asking for some attention. I straightened. I lifted and propped Pammy's other leg. I folded her legs together with my prick between them. Holding them together with my hands, I humped slowly between her knees giving myself a leg job.
Men are dogs.
I pushed her legs apart and, like a supplicant, shuffled up between them to awkwardly lift her skirt and shove my hand under her pantyhose. Poor ol' sleeping Pammy remained peacefully dry. Now, I'm not really a lube man if it can be avoided. Flavors' not withstanding lube doesn't taste that great and it's greasy. Horny as I was I was stumped. Looking and feeling ran its course.
A night of blue balls suddenly presented itself in my mind. Shit.
I shrugged surrender. Pammy slept surrendered. I stood, stepped, and then sat next to her on the edge of the couch. Tugging her up by her jacket's lapels, I started undressing her. No mean feat keeping her upright while hauling her jacket and shirt off her arms. She sort of smiled while I did this maybe awake enough to be aware she was being -- what was her word -- 'done' as she slept. I let her slide back down to straighten and fold her clothes to lay them across the back of the couch.
I removed the skirt more easily. Unhooking and unzipping caused a struggle for the zipper hid itself beneath her. I worked the skirt down her hips and pulled off her legs. Those shiny tan pantyhose stayed on.
Pammy is not a petite woman. Good that she slept. I strained and grimaced picking her up. I carried her to the bedroom and draped her across my bed. She looked quite alluring lying there, like those expensive Japanese love dolls.
So, let's play dolls. I stretched her arms out beside her doing nice things to the shape of her tits. I pulled her legs apart noting what that did to the muscles of Pammy's thighs and calves, to the contours of her knees. The light shining in from the living room made very sensual shadows. With a discouraged sigh, I moved her nearest arm across her belly and lay beside her. I tucked a pillow under my head, cupped her breast, and thought about things. Almost on its own volition, my knee drew up to rest over Pammy's hips. I felt her pantyhose encased bush pressed beneath my leg.
I needed a solution for Pammy -- for myself. The center cannot hold. I knew what she wanted and tried to pay for with her submission. However, there was no place for her in the dangers of my life.
I felt up her sleeping form as I mulled things over. She felt good under my exploring hand. The probe and brush and squeeze of that began to stir my prick. I became aware of the texture of her leg and nylon as my prick pushed upward along her thigh. The thigh felt nice.
Men are dogs. And, like a dog, I dry humped Pammy's leg. The most sensitive nerve endings noted the weave of the nylons, the heat and firmness of her flesh. My hand caressed Pammy's cheek, her neck, her shoulder, her breasts. I bent to suckle at her nipple. I humped.
All too soon, I blew my load up the side of her thigh. I felt the slick wetness of it cover my glans adding to the intensity of my orgasm. I came, I came, and I came. Endless, it seemed. Damn... Good...
Then, in the still warmth of the afterglow, ideas came.
Tonight I must work. Tomorrow I must travel.