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From: Rafael Sumatra <rafaelsumatra@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 20 Dec 2003 08:29:57 -0800 (PST)
Subject: {ASSM} Newspapers and Handcuffs (Mf, span)
Date: Sat, 20 Dec 2003 19:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "NewspapersHandcuffs.txt" begin>

Handcuffs and newspapers

It was one of those freak weather things in early autumn. One
minute it's sunny and warm, the next, there's a biblical rain
flood pouring down on all the poor, unsuspecting people outside.
Including, I guessed, the girl who delivers my evening paper,
something I eagerly await every evening after coming home to
work. I should probably point out that there are two reasons why
I await the paper so eagerly: one is the paper, because it's an
excellent paper, the second is - of course - the delivery girl.
Oh my, the delivery girl. Sixteen-and-a-little, tallish, slim
including her hips, brown skin, not tanned but natural. A figure
that most supermodels would die for (and most of them probably
almost do) but small breasts whose nipples occasionally are
trying to negotiate their way through whatever she's wearing at
the moment. Brown eyes, slightly almond-shaped, and dark hair
that barely reaches her shoulders. Curiously for someone so
good-looking, she's very shy. Every time I spoke to her (meeting
her in the hallway or for the 'voluntary' Christmas tip) she
struggled to look me straight in the eye and seemingly could only
manage to utter a few half-mumbled responses. I also met her at
an art course I took last year and got to know her a little as a
bright young girl, she seemed to like me too, and seemed to trust
me, occasionally asking me to pick her up and bring her home.
Although I like her, I wouldn't want anything to happen to her
and I certainly wouldn't want to be the one that does her harm,
so in that respect her (and her stepparent's) trust is justified.
That's her then, the paper-delivery girl, I mean it's really her,
I can hear her slide the paper through the door.

I rush to meet her, feeling sorry for her and being incredibly
aroused by what I saw when she walked to the door downstairs, she
somehow always gets in although I live in an apartment block and
she also somehow always walks all the way up to my floor to
deliver the paper. In this case it's probably a welcome change
from pouring rain. She startles as I open the door and try not to
stare at her body. She shyly says 'hello' and looks away, giving
me the chance to take in the sight of her for a moment. Yellow
tank top, yellow jogging-like pants, but with hip bell-bottoms
and a black stripe down each side all soaking wet and closely
hugging her perfect form. The fabric doesn't show her skin, but
it does show her perky breasts and the rock-hard nipples proudly
showing themselves. Her pants hug her slim legs and show her
incredible ass, and give me an insight into the black thong she's
wearing underneath that seems to be made mainly of shoelace, but
for the front and that sit low on her hips. All that beauty to
take in in just a second. Oh, and she has a fashionable and
incredibly soaked shoulder bag with her. I cordially greet her
and, guessing that I'm the last in the paper round, suggest that
she comes in and dries herself up a little. She seems not to know
what to say, so I throw in a nice cup of coffee or tea
(figuratively speaking). She agrees and comes in. I decide to be
decent and not to jump her, so I suggest that she takes a shower
and puts on some of my clothes until hers are a little dryer than
soaked and she herself is a little warmed up. I discreetly leave
her to herself in the bathroom after donating a pair of cargo
pants, a belt and a t-shirt.

A couple of minutes later she emerges from the shower in my
clothes, which are of course too large, but look somehow
incredibly sexy on her. She re-iterates her earlier concerns
about me minding her being in my clothes, I can only truthfully
assure her that I really, really don't mind. To test the water, I
pay her a compliment about the way she looks, even in this
outfit. The reaction is a mixture of shyness, pride and feeling
flattered, as far as I can tell. The next moment she stumbles on
her shoulder bag, knocks it over, rushes down to pick it up, but
manages to turn it upside down in the process, so the complete
contents of the bag fall on the floor. Nothing very special, if
it weren't for what was in the bag: a pair of black handcuffs, a
small leather whip and a black dildo of average size. Being only
moderately perverse myself, I immediately turn about the same
colour beet-red as she does and I clumsily help her gather
everything back in the shoulder bag. She seems slightly relieved
at my shyness and bravely smiles, I smile back, but the situation
remains embarrassing until I suggest to go into the living room
and have some tea. Meanwhile I can't stop wondering whether she
likes to cuff or be cuffed, or if she's maybe running some
strange errand. Halfway through the tea, she tries to get up too
quickly to help me get some cookies and spills tea on the sofa.
She immediately gets into a fit of guilt, pleading and
practically sobbing, while I, a little alarmed at her state, try
to put her mind at ease. She eventually does calm down, but seems
preoccupied while mopping up some of the tea. Eventually, she
softly confesses she sometimes likes to fantasise about events
like these and how they play out, especially her punishment. I
show interest, how could I not, a gorgeous sixteen-year old
confessing she has fantasies about being punished... We talk
about it a little bit, about it being not entirely serious, but
very exciting, about not inflicting pain and about respecting
each-others boundaries. I am astonished at her candidness and the
level at which she has thought these fantasies through. She
confesses to having read quite a few bondage magazines and
feeling attracted to the strange security of being a 'slave'.
That answers my earlier question then: she is the one being
cuffed. I indicate my arousal at the whole prospect, as does she,
and she asks me to get out of the room while she readies herself,
not forgetting to mention that the keys to the handcuffs are in a
side pocket in her shoulder bag. I walk out, feeling like I've
just witnessed something that went way too fast for my brain to
understand.

When I come back in, after being called, I still feel a bit
dazzled by the sight. There she is, sixteen, smooth and gorgeous,
in nothing but her thong that makes her look even sexier (my
penis, which was already half-erect is now at full war strength,
throbbing against the inside of my jeans). She is perched over
the sofa, with her hands in the cuffs around the dinner table,
which stands snugly against the sofa. I can't help but wince at
the sight. She looks back, with an incredibly exciting mix of
fright and arousal in her eyes and - calling me 'Sir' - invites
me to punish her. I get out the whip and position myself behind
her, I check once more how far I should go with her and lash out.
Not too hard, but she should be feeling something by now, she
cried out softly. My whipping left a little mark on her behind,
but it disappears quickly, I whip some more and she moans and
wriggles incredibly sexily in response. I stop for a second to
feel her taut ass and the smooth, now burning skin on it. I slip
down between her legs as she moans and opens them a little,
letting me feel how soaked the front of her panties are. As I
caress and apply a little pressure, she looks like she's in
heaven. I suddenly lash out again with the whip, mixing pleasure
with pain, the cry she makes is accompanied by a grin that is
trying to split her face in half. I repeat the routine, getting
up behind her and pushing my by now aching penis against her
backside, rubbing a little, worrying that I will come then and
there in my pants, rubbing her between the legs and lashing out
again. I ask her if she's learnt her lesson, to which she says
yes and grins back at me, submissive and victorious, somehow. I
say I don't believe her and all of a sudden a hint of fear
appears in her eyes. I smile back reassuringly, sort of. I caress
her again and begin to peal at her thong, slowly pulling it down,
revealing all of her intimacy. I work the thing down but decide
to rip it off as she moans impatiently. I then caress her some
more and tease her by sliding the whip through her asscrack,
slowly moving towards her pussy. She shudders instinctively as
she fears I will hit her, but I move away quickly and repeat my
promise to respect her boundaries. I replace whip with hand and
feel myself coming very close to an orgasm just touching her
bare, smooth and soaked cunt. Pushing away the lips, probing her
vagina and caressing her clit. The sounds she's making suggest
that she is having very much fun, so I continue, groping her
small breasts with my other hand and kissing her back. It doesn't
take long for her to start shivering and jerking involuntarily.
After this orgasm she's exhausted and she falls onto the sofa. I
go and get the keys to release her hands from the handcuffs and
squeeze in beside her, holding and caressing her. She turns round
and kisses me on the mouth.

After some time she starts caressing me, feeling the bulge of my
still very hard penis , seductively smiling, she gets up and
pulls me out of the chair. She unzips my jeans, as I remove my
t-shirt, and pulls them down along with my boxer short, releasing
my penis and looking at it with an almost greedy look in her
eyes. She lays down on the sofa, on her back, with her legs
pulled up above her, revealing her still very wet and very red
pussy. I kneel down in front of her and move my penis toward its
target. I tease her and myself by touching her vulva with the tip
and rubbing it across, mixing my precum with her vaginal fluids.
Then, trying very hard not to come at once, I slowly penetrate
her. I can feel the soft, hot tightness engulf me. She lets out
several almost ecstatic moans and looks at me, encouraging me to
go on. Pausing frequently, still to prevent an early orgasm I
work my way in, accompanied by very sexy moans from the gorgeous
girl who is offering herself to me. Finally completely in, I
relax and wait a little. Feeling securer that I won't immediately
reach orgasm, I slowly start fucking. She moans even louder and
closes her eyes to concentrate on the feeling. I get hold of her
legs near the hips and pull her onto me, then push her off again,
almost completely leaving her cunt. This is accompanied by
disgruntled moans, turning into sighs and moans of pleasure as I
move back in, burying my member to the hilt in her young body. I
move her legs back and apart to open her further and try how deep
I can go, obviously approved by her as she helps pulling her legs
apart and slides down the sofa to meet me. I bend over a little
and increase the pace, moving from slow, long fucks to shallower
but more furious ones. I keep increasing the pace until I feel
myself almost coming. I move her legs apart again and bury myself
in her as my orgasm takes over. Moaning and jerking, I empty my
balls in the young girl who gets sent over the edge by my orgasm
and experiences her own, involuntarily contracting and releasing
her vagina around my spurting member. We remain locked together
for a little longer and then squeeze in together in the sofa to
gather our breath. We agree that the whole thing was absolutely
awesome and she thanks me. To which I can only stammeringly reply
that I should be thanking HER.
<1st attachment end>


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