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From: a425couple <a425couple@hotmail.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.d,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.cuckold
Subject: Re: {ASSD} The Babe {Paco Andante} (MF hand cheat)
Date: Mon, 04 Feb 2013 08:23:10 -0800
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"Paco Andante" <graf.von.muschi@gmail.com> wrote in message
> Title: The Babe
> Author: Paco Andante
> Keywords: MF hand cheat
> Date: 03 February 2013
Nice story. I hope there are sequels. Thanks.
> Author's prologue:
> Has this ever happened to you? I wrote "Hired Hand" (posted to ASSM
> on 10/15/2012, also on ASSTR in my Authors' page) without a thought to
> the background, how the situation arose, etc., just that it was an
> "interesting" situation. But it grew to gnaw at me: What was the student
> like, how was it he was so pliable in the hands (sic) of the woman, and
> how
> did he come to be doing what he was in the den, and not working in another
> part of the house, where he was supposed to be? I didn't know, and it
> bothered me, and it bothered me that it bothered me. So I sat down to
> write the same story, but from the PoV of the student, hoping that
> some sort of answer would be revealed.
> The story wrote itself, as though I was some sort of Medium, just an
> extension of the keyboard, and I found out the answers as the words flowed
> onto the screen. A weird experience, and one I would be glad to have
> again!
> The story, I think, will stand (or fall) on its own, but is actually
> a "companion piece" to "Hired Hand." May you enjoy reading it as much as
> I did as it appeared under my fingers!
>
> Copyright by the author. Permission granted to archive, repost,
> or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives of alt groups.
> Permission granted to publish in periodicals and anthologies of this
> type of material if attributed to the author.
>
> Disclaimer: Do not read this story if you believe fantasy stories
> should not depict situations undesirable in real life. Be warned that
> you may not be comfortable with the sexual situations. Do not read this
> story if you are less than 18 years of age.
> -----------
> The Babe
> Paco Andante
>
> I hardly believe what happened, and I don't know what to do next.
>
> I guess I'd better start at the beginning. You're not going to
> believe it even when I do.
>
> See, I answered this ad in the school newsletter; a couple in town
> wanted some help, "handyman work," it said, around the house and yard.
> So I answered it, since I could use some dough, and my sophomore year
> class load wasn't as heavy as everyone said it would be.
>
> Well, it turned out that Mr. and Mrs. Branleur had a load of work to
> do, and the worst was discovered when Bill, that's Mr. B's name,
> expecting some electrical trouble, pulled down some paneling in the
> rec room. Seems the previous owner thought he could do stuff, but was
> a regular shithead. You should see the mess inside the walls that he made
> when converting what used to be a porch into that rec room! And the
> electrical - I'm surprised they hadn't had a fire!
>
> Anyway, Bill wanted to fix it the right way, and needed help. After
> negotiating a wage - he wanted to pay me minimum like he had for the yard
> stuff - we set to work. The more we exposed of "Mr. Fixit's" work (that's
> what we wound up calling the previous owner) the worse it got. So after I
> left I got to thinking about the place, and the possibilities, so I made
> some sketches of what I figured could be done to make that rec room really
> nice without spending a fortune.
>
> I liked Bill, he was not a lot older than I, and a really nice guy. I
> liked
> the rest of the house, too, it was comfy, so I got involved, you know?
>
> So a few work visits later I went over there and brought along my sketches
> to show Bill. He was enthusiastic. He really liked what I showed him, so
> he
> called to his wife to come see.
>
> So in walks Mrs. Branleur to look. And she is a drop-dead knockout BABE!
> Despite that she is dressed to go out, her serious business-like outfit
> couldn't hide her tall, slender figure or the curves underneath it. And
> she
> had long, Titian hair and the biggest green eyes that seemed to see
> everything, including that a woodie almost instantly sprang up in my
> jeans.
>
> I looked at Bill to see if he had noticed, but he was busy telling Mrs. B.
> about my ideas. In his enthusiasm he barely remembered to introduce me
> to her.
>
> "Oh, honey," he says, "This is Jack from the college. These are his ideas
> you know. Jack, this is my wife, Carol." He bubbled with excitement.
>
> I stammered something like "Pleasedta meetcha," trying not to show how
> flustered I was.
>
> So she grabs one of my drawings with her long, graceful fingers, looks it
> over, smiles at me - _smiles_with_a_gleam_in_her_eyes_ - and points at it
> and makes a suggestion. I have to admit, her idea was really good. I
> didn't
> just agree, you know? It might have been shit and I might have agreed
> anyway,
> she was such a knockout, but it _was_ good. So I quickly drew her idea
> onto
> the drawing already on the sheet and she and Bill liked it.
>
> So Carol - Mrs. Branleur - smiled again, thanked us both and walked out of
> the den. If you can call that walking. She glided, but everything moved.
> Undulated. Rippled. Flowed like a sweet song. I thought for sure Bill
> would notice me; my tongue must have been hanging out, but he just went on
> about the drawings, and how well his wife's idea fit in with my scheme,
> and so on.
>
> So we started to work, Bill and I, but now with a firm plan in mind. And
> gradually what was uncomfortably firm in my jeans subsided. We got most of
> the tearing down done before I had to leave.
>
> Over the next week I got to work over there several times, a little here
> and
> a little there, but I didn't get to see "The Babe" as I started to think
> of
> Carol - Mrs. B. - at all. Bill put a key in a hiding place so I could let
> myself in to work when I had a chance and he wasn't home.
>
> But I kept seeing The Babe in my daydreams, and wishing I could actually
> see more of her. And getting jealous of my new friend and employer, Bill.
> Imagining how it would be to crawl into bed with Her, The Babe, every
> night!
>
> You can guess how my daydreams led to my wanking myself.
>
> So, one afternoon I was over there working, when neither of them was home.
> And I discovered that I had forgotten to bring my long tape measure, and I
> needed one. I thought I remembered Bill having one in the den, so I went
> in
> there to look.
>
> Searching through the desk, I found a photo album. I put it aside on top
> of the desk - none of my business, I thought - and kept looking. I found
> a 16 footer, long enough, but when I went to put the album back, the Devil
> made me open it. I swear I wasn't going to, but I did.
>
> It contained photos of them on a trip to the beach. Of course, I ignored
> the pictures of Bill, but there were more of The Babe than of him.
> Understandable.
>
> There was a really cute one of Her sitting at an outdoor table in a little
> green sundress and a wide-brimmed white hat, showing Her slender but
> muscular arms and some cleavage between Her pair of perfect-looking boobs.
> And those huge green eyes seemed to be looking at me right out of the
> photo.
>
> I almost closed the album. But I turned pages instead.
>
> There was The Babe in a one-piece suit on a towel in the sand. Then one of
> Her in a bikini, wading in the water, that started my woodie growing.
>
> But the photo that knocked my socks off was of Her, topless, in just that
> same bikini bottom, leaning over a railing with Her gorgeous, round, perky
> ass sticking up, Her long, slender legs going right up to the delicious
> under-curve of Her ass-cheeks, with one of Her bare boobs in clear profile
> under Her arm, pointing at something off camera. The erect nipple of that
> perfect-looking breast was surrounded by a small, dark areola.
>
> God! To say, "beautiful" would be in insult, no words I could conjure up
> would do. I was in awe and harder than I ever remembered being before.
>
> There were more great photos of Her in the album, but none to match that
> one. My hands actually shook. I put the album down on the desk and tried
> to go back to work, measuring and marking, measuring and marking, but my
> woodie wasn't going away, my hands were still shaking, and the mental
> image of Her, posed like in the photo, kept swimming behind my eyeballs.
>
> Finally, I went back into the den and opened the album to The Picture. My
> woodie, still hard since before, was starting to hurt trying to stand up
> straight while confined in the leg of my jeans. I had to sit down to give
> it a little relief.
>
> Staring at The Picture of The Babe, even sitting down was no relief, so I
> closed the album and put it back in the desk. It didn't help any because
> not only was the image engraved on my mind, but I had begun to fantasize.
> Of my lips on that nipple, my hands massaging Her perfect boobs and the
> round cheeks of Her incredibly gorgeous ass. And, God help me, of my dick
> disappearing in the warm and wet folds of what was under and between them.
>
> My cock could no longer stay pressed against my leg, even sitting down. I
> had to let it get comfortable, so I opened my belt and jeans to let it
> spring up, but as I touched it getting it loose I squirted all over my
> briefs. Well, at least I didn't come on their furniture!
>
> But I couldn't get the image out of my mind, even after having come, and I
> sat there on the chaise, my pants and splattered boxers around my knees,
> my aching cock still half-hard.
>
> What was I going to do, for God's sake? The house was empty, Bill was at
> work, and The Babe, the object of my desire, was out somewhere. My boxers
> were already messed, so I let myself indulge. I closed my eyes and
> imagined Her, not just topless but totally nude, bent not over some
> railing, but over my bed, and not my hand but Her warm pussy surrounding
> my slowly recovering woodie.
>
> I was thoroughly lost in my daydream when I became aware that my hand was
> not the only thing caressing my cock! My hand was on the shaft, but
> something wonderful was happening on its head!
>
> My eyes snapped open, and there was The Babe, Carol, herself, not the
> image
> in my head, not naked but fully dressed in a tailored suit, not bent over
> my
> bed, but kneeling beside the chaise and with those graceful fingers
> _On_My_Cock!_ Somehow She had come home and I hadn't heard a thing!
>
> I gasped, "God! Mrs. Branleur! Oh, shit!" and I could feel the blood
> leaving my cock and rushing to my face. I'd been caught, and not just by
> anybody, but by the very Babe I had been fantasizing over! I could just
> have dropped dead!
>
> But instead of chastising me, She said, "Quiet!"
>
> I was paralyzed, my hand still on my softening cock, riveted by those
> huge,
> piercing, beautiful green eyes.
>
> She said, "Lie still. Put your hands behind your back and lie on them."
>
> I didn't know what else to do, so I did as She commanded. But a cold sweat
> of fear had started on my back where I was lying on the chaise. What was
> She
> going to do? What will Bill do when he finds out?
>
> "What are you going to do?" I heard my trembling voice ask.
>
> With a voice as stern as any coach's, She commanded me again to be quiet,
> then amended Her order, now ordering me to put my hands under my butt, and
> saying, "Do what I say and there won't be any trouble."
>
> All the while Her long, beautiful fingers were doing wonders on the head
> of my cock, and it didn't seem to care that the rest of me was scared
> shitless.
>
> Before I could gather two words in my head, never mind saying anything,
> She
> gathered the hem of Her fairly tight skirt up over Her hips and sat Her
> incredible, round, sheer-panty clad butt right down over my stomach,
> facing my feet. And Her hands were working magic on me - She seemed to
> know all the best and most sensitive places, and just how hard or how
> lightly to stroke and touch. I could hear myself groaning. Her hands
> felt so soft!
>
> I couldn't help myself, watching Her incredible ass sitting on me while
> Her
> hands were doing Magic, and my body started to move under Her.
>
> Torture! She stopped!
>
> "Lie still," She commanded, and She didn't move Her hands until I relaxed.
>
> I don't know how long She worked on me then, it seemed like a long,
> delicious, incredible time. My cock had never felt so big, so hard, so
> _wanting._ She seemed to know just how much would make me crazy without
> putting me over the edge. But at last I felt release boiling up and just
> before it became inevitable, She let go of my cock and started to fondle
> my balls!
>
> It would have been The Worst Thing In The World if She had just dropped
> my cock, but Her playing with my nuts made it tolerable, and even dragged
> out the sensation of being Right There!
>
> I don't know what all I whispered, then. Whisper was all I could manage,
> since my voice seemed to have left me. I think I took the Lord's Name in
> vain, but I really don't remember, but She told me to be quiet, whatever
> it was I said.
>
> As if the "massage" of my cock wasn't enough, I began to smell the heady,
> stirring aroma, indescribable (and not at all fishy), of Her own arousal,
> an odor that seemed to go straight from my nostrils to my sex centers.
>
> As if She could feel what I was feeling, She started on my cock again just
> as the urgency was ebbing, but She also kept on doing wonders to my balls.
> That was just incredible. I think She must have been using lube of some
> kind, Her work was just so gentle, even when She was squeezing my cock
> hard.
>
> She was turning me into jelly, never mind what She was using. I don't know
> how many times She took me to the cliff's edge but kept me from falling.
> And surely it must be into the night by now, it was going on so long!
>
> God forgive me for what I might have mumbled.
>
> I was just a quivering mass, dying to come at last, when She turned Her
> head to smile at me. Did I say how sensuously enticing Her mouth was?
>
> I begged. Shamelessly. I so badly needed to come.
>
> Her smile broadened, Her huge eyes sparkled and She turned Her head away
> with a swirl of Titian tresses. I thought for sure She was going to string
> me out some more when She briefly let go of me, but then She set to work
> with a vengeance and almost immediately I came.
>
> Must I say I came hard?
>
> You can guess it was like a freight train! My whole body jerked in huge
> spasms, I must have bucked under Her like a wild bronco! And through it
> all, She kept working my happy cock, and even after I was empty, She kept
> it up, each stroke making me jump. I was completely spent, there was no
> energy left, all my juice was gone. But She knew how to let me down easy,
> eliciting from my exhausted body every last dreg of pleasure, every last
> jerk and spasm.
>
> I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. At last there was no more, I couldn't
> even react anymore. Both my cock and the rest of my body were limp as a
> cooked spaghetti. She got up off me then. I saw the huge wet spot on Her
> panties and could feel the wet on my belly where She had been sitting.
>
> Despite that, cool as a cucumber, She told me to put myself back together
> and go back to work. Then, with Her skirt still bunched around Her waist,
> She left the room. I barely managed to wipe the lube off myself with some
> Kleenex She left behind. It was a few minutes before I could summon the
> energy to pull my pants up.
>
> I was surprised to see the clock; not even forty minutes had passed,
> though it had seemed like days.
>
> I stood up, shakily, and as I staggered back toward to rec-room-to-be I
> heard little outcries of pleasure coming from the bathroom.
>
> I did manage to get a little work done, but I finally decided to gather my
> tools and go. I wondered how I was going to face my new friend, Bill?
>
> As I was leaving, She appeared, looking like a Vision of Beauty, leaning
> in the doorway, Her arms crossed under Her robe-covered breasts.
>
> She asked me when I would be coming again. Did I hear a subtle emphasis an
> the word, "coming?"
>
> My mind was not fully functioning yet, so I answered as I would have had
> this afternoon not happened, "Tuesday afternoon."
>
> God! She winked, no imagining on my part, She winked! Winked at me as She
> closed the door behind me, Her single parting word ringing in my mind,
> "Good!"
> -----
> <1st attachment end>
>
>
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