Path: not-for-mail
From: Incest Man <familyincestfamilyincest@yahoo.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.hetero,alt.sex.stories.d
Subject: "The Heat" pt.7
Date: Fri, 03 Feb 2006 13:25:56 -0800
Organization: http://groups.google.com
Lines: 520
Message-ID: <1139001956.404457.279760@g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 213.184.235.124
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
X-Trace: posting.google.com 1139001962 12723 127.0.0.1 (3 Feb 2006 21:26:02 GMT)
X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 3 Feb 2006 21:26:02 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/0.2
X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; ru; rv:1.8) Gecko/20051111 Firefox/1.5,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe)
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: g14g2000cwa.googlegroups.com; posting-host=213.184.235.124; posting-account=iMbkYAwAAABEzvBc57qWV1UoWr6vHxuA
===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/heat.html
The HEAT
7
Two weeks passed. They passed slowly, but hardly peacefully. The
daytime temperature remained in the 100's, and things were heating up
in
more ways than one:
The Willyville Nudist Society, despite warnings from the police,
persisted in their activities. Walks, swims, gardening, any outdoor
activity that could be was performed in the nude in the scorching
sunshine.
After the first fifty busts or so, the police decided it was a lost
cause
and just ignored the whole thing. After all, they still had the
air-conditioner thieves to catch. The nudists were easy to spot even
with
their clothes on, as they had tans so deep they bordered on sunburns.
But
then a medical segment on the local news mentioned something that put
the
whole thing into a new light...
Skin cancer.
Terror spread through the naturist community as fast as the phone
could carry the news, and the next day the Willyville Nudist Society
disbanded, only to be replaced by the Willyville Overcoat Society.
That's
right, every single one of the ex-nudists were bundled up in long coats
and
large hats every time they set foot outside. Within 48 hours the
hospitals
reported 19 cases of heat stroke. The doctors and nurses of the
Willyville
medical community were beginning to wish they had the luxury of taking
long
overdue vacations...
On a more positive note, the Willyville air conditioner crime wave
ended in a rather spectacular way. Elmo Burns had taken a sick day from
the
sawmill and was busily enjoying X-rated videotapes in the privacy of
his
own home (as was his constitutional right) when he heard strange noises
coming from the direction of the air-conditioner. Already suspicious,
he
pulled up his pants, grabbed his over-and-under shotgun, went out the
front
door, and snuck around to the back of the house. Sure enough, there was
a
man standing on a short stepladder, trying to lever the air-conditioner
loose with a crowbar. Obviously, he thought Elmo was away at work,
overlooking Elmo's Ford 4X4 sitting square in the driveway. Elmo
figured
that the subtle approach would just be wasted on someone this dumb, so
he
announced his presence by letting the would-be thief have it right in
the
ass with both barrels at close range.
Elmo's shotgun had been loaded with hand-made shells containing,
not
buckshot, but rock salt and bacon rinds, which had been his daddy's
solution for kids who stole crops from the fields. The attack was not
lethal, but the crook was still quite immobilized (to say the least)
when
the police arrived. The detective in charge of the thefts saw that a
golden
opportunity had arisen to bring this mess to a halt once and for all.
He
took the wounded thief downtown instead of to the hospital and directly
to
an interrogation room. There, being held down on a hard wooden chair by
two
burly officers, it took the screaming thief less than fifteen seconds
to
decide to roll over on the rest of his gang. Within the hour they were
all
rounded up, along with a small warehouse full of air conditioners,
which
had turned out to be a bit harder to fence that they anticipated.
The chief of police announced the news from the steps of City Hall
to
a cheering crowd of over a thousand sweating theft victims. But there
was
one small snag. Somebody asked when the air conditioners would be
returned
to their anxious owners. The chief paused for a second, swallowed hard,
then confessed that they would all have to be held over as evidence for
the
trial--which was scheduled to begin in six weeks.
The riot that ensued would best be left to the reader's
imagination...
---
"Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Michael crooned, sitting
crosslegged in the middle of the floor.
"Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Harold aped, sitting in
an
identical position in across from him.
"Repeat after me." Michael said quietly. "Owha..."
"Owha..."
"Tajer..."
"Tajer..."
"Kiyam."
"Kiyam."
"Now repeat the whole thing." Michael said.
"Ohwa... Tajer... Kiyam..." Harold droned, eyes closed.
Michael got up a bit stiffly, and said, "I'll be back in a few
minutes. Keep repeating this, a little faster each time, until I
return."
and closed the door quietly behind him. He limped down to the kitchen
(that
lotus position gets harder on the knees every year) and grabbed a
couple
beers.
As expected, when he got back, Harold was not chanting. Instead he
glared at Michael with all the indignity he could muster. "Very funny."
Michael sat in the recliner. "That, my dear boy, was the Tibetian
Mantra for Self Realization." He grinned, "Sorry, I just couldn't
resist.
Besides, if you really were a jerk, you would have still been chanting
when
I got back, and then I'd have *known* there was no hope for you."
Harold glared a moment longer, then they both broke up laughing.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Harold said, "Still, it was a cheap shot."
Michael leaned forward, offering Harold a beer. "Actually, it was
intended to illustrate a serious point. To wit: just because you've
fooled
yourself into believing something, that doesn't mean it's true."
Harold popped the top on the can, which promptly foamed into his
lap.
"Shit." he grunted, looking around for a towel. "You mean I've been
wasting
my time this last two weeks with all this meditation stuff?"
"Not at all. You are becoming quite adept at controlling your
voluntary reactions and senses. You haven't complained about the heat
here
at all for the last several days." Now that Harold thought about it, he
really wasn't feeling the heat at all. Michael continued, "In fact,
I've
never seen anyone advance so fast. No, I'd say you're well on your way
to
conquering your ejaculation problem. It's your other problem I'm really
concerned about."
"Oh? And just what problem is that?" Harold asked suspiciously.
"I think you know what I'm talking about. Your insistance that you
define your sexual abilities by the ability to postpone orgasm. I think
you're going to find that that doesn't mean very much in the real
world.
What you're really lacking is confidence and self-knowledge. You need
to
know your capabilites and trust in them in order to BE capable. Being
able
to have intercourse as long as you like is a fine thing, but you're
going
to find that not that many women are going to be impressed by that
ability
alone."
Harold was shaken. "You mean this isn't going to solve my
problem?"
Michael rolled his eyes upwards. "At last he begins to see the
light.
I talked to Julie the other day and she says-"
"You've talked to her?" Harold interrupted anxiously. "Where is
she?
How's she doing?"
"Calm down, calm down. She's doing fine, she just has a few things
to
work out. She actually called to see how you're doing. Apparently that
night you shared together has affected her as strongly as it did you."
Harold's eyes became dreamy "Wow."
"Anyway," Michael continued drily, "as I was saying, Julie
commented
that your abilities were quite remarkable. Yet you persist in believing
that you are inadequete, just because one person told you that you
were.
That shows a very serious lack of self confidence. Do you see what I'm
saying?"
Harold thought it over a long moment. "Maybe... But how do I get
this
confidence?"
"You have to know yourself." Michael concluded. "And doing this is
not
the easiest thing in the world. You have to go out and do things. You
have
to explore. If you just sit around being a mass of untapped potential
then
you will never know what that potential is. You cannot be confident in
something you do not know."
"Okay," Harold said, a bit confused, "So what's all this got to do
with what's going on right now?"
"I'm glad you asked. I think it's time we tested some of that
potential right now." Michael got up and opened the door. "Diane," he
called. A moment later one of the most stunning women Harold had ever
seen
in his life walked in. "Harold, this is Diane. Diane, Harold."
Diane offered her hand and Harold took it briefly. "Hello,
Harold."
she said, in a low, husky voice. She stood about six inches shorter
than he
did, and had a lithe, well-proportioned body. Harold felt almost
helpless
to prevent his eyes from travelling downward, from her shoulder-length
auburn hair to small, pert breasts contained in a red tank-top to long,
tanned legs, very well set off by her rather brief white shorts.
Suddenly,
self-consciously, he jerked back up where her beautiful hazel eyes met
his
in a penetrating gaze. She slipped her hand from his and walked over to
the
window, hips swaying just the right amount to hold his attention
captive.
Then she turned back to him and stood there, one hand on cocked hip,
fixing
him again with that gaze.
Harold swallowed hard and shoved one hand in his pocket, to
conceal
the bulge that was growing there. There was nothing physically
remarkable
about this woman. All her power and sexuality was in the way she moved,
the
way she held herself. As Tom had often said: "It's not what you got so
much
as how you show it." A wave of pure lust swept over Harold. He wanted
this
woman more than any he had ever seen in his life, yet her self
assurnace
frightened him, as if telling him this was more woman that he could
ever
handle.
Then Michael cleared his throat and the spell snapped. Diane
relaxed
and became a mere mortal again, leaning against the windowframe and
grinning like someone who had just played a grand joke. Harold felt as
if
he had been doused with cold water from the inside out and the bulge in
his
pants quickly receded. He swallowed drily. "That's... some act."
"Thanks." She said, her voice now quite ordinary. "I always get a
kick
out of doing that. Before I came here, guys used to ignore me in
droves.
Now I can get 'em drooling any time I please. I don't do it very often,
but
it's nice to know that I can."
"Diane came here about four years ago." Michael said, in his best
college professor voice. "Her circumstances weren't all that different
from
yours, in fact. She felt she had all kinds of faults and deficiencies,
but
her biggest problem was that she simply didn't know herself. Under my
guidence, she quickly learned who she really was and what she could
do." He
turned to her and asked, "What was it you were doing before you came
here?
I forget."
She appeared to ponder it for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot
about it. I was waitressing down at Ptomaine Palace for minimum wage
and
living with this guy who would slap me around because he said sex with
me
was 'boring'. Finally the fucker ran off, leaving me with a lease I
couldn't afford to pay. My fondest fantasy is to track him down someday
and
put his ass in the hospital." A feral gleam suddenly appeared in her
eye
and Harold felt a chill running down his spine. "Anyway, after the
landlord
threw me out a friend introduced me to Michael. After hearing my story
he
gave me free room and board for as long as I needed it, and lectures
every
day. After a while I quit resenting it and started to really listen to
what
he was telling me. Now, in a couple months I'll be starting my junior
year
at the university with a major in Engineering. And I owe it all to
Michael."
"Bullshit." Michael growled, sitting back down in his recliner.
"You
owe it all to yourself. I just gave you a kick in the ass that got it
started. No excuse for letting yourself go to hell like that. None at
all."
He paused for a moment. "Do you still want to do this?"
She looked Harold up and down appraisingly. "Sure. Might be
instructive all around."
Harold suddenly felt very alone and outnumbered. And a little
worried.
"Um, somebody want to let me in on this?"
"Well," she said, walking over to Harold, "Mikey and I had a
little
talk last night, and I had this idea to, you know, prove just how far
along
you had come in conquering your little problem." She placed a hand on
Harold's shoulder and traced it, feather light, down his shirtfront to
his
belt buckle, which she hooked a finger into and tugged gently.
Harold swallowed hard, wondering just how far he had gotten over
his
head here. He looked over at Michael. Michael, who had winced visibly
at
"Mikey," simply looked back and said nothing. No help there.
So he turned back to Diane. "Um, you mean here? Right now?"
"Sure." she said, tugging on his buckle again. "Why not?"
Then she was rubbing up against him, her arms around his neck.
Their
mouths met in a long, breathtaking kiss. Harold's cock was as stiff as
a
railroad spike, and it didn't help that Diane was grinding her hips
against
his. She broke the kiss and ran her tongue slowly along Harold's
jawline.
Planting little kisses along his neck, she slowly slid down his front,
maintaining maximum contact with her hands a body all the way. When she
was
on her knees, her face level with his crotch, she began to work at his
belt
buckle.
Oh, jeez, Harold thought, as he looked around frantically. Michael
was
still watching, only his expression was intent. Harold got the distinct
feeling he was being *studied*.
Diane got Harold's belt unbuckled, undid the snap, and pulled the
zipper down. A white bulge immediately poked through, as his erection
strained to be free of his shorts. His pants fell to his ankles with a
jingle of change as Diane placed a hand on his covered bulge, massaging
it
gently while she looked up into his eyes. Harold already felt waves of
massive pleasure surge up from his groin. She put her mouth over the
tip of
the bulge and exhaled gently. Harold clearly felt the heat of her
breath on
his cock, and moaned imperceptibly.
Then she grabbed the waistband of his briefs and began to slowly
pull
them down, uncovering his erection inch by agonizing inch. The pounding
in
his cock was matched by the pounding in his head as he felt the elastic
drag down along the length of his penis.
Then he was free, his cock standing stiffly erect for all the
world to
see. He glanced over at Michael, but Michael didn't seem to be as
interested in the action as he was in Harold's face. Then Harold forgot
all
about him as Diane extended her tongue and ran it up along his cock.
Then, without warning, she plunged it into her mouth. All the way
in.
While Harold wasn't exceptionally large, he had still never met a woman
who
could deep throat him before. The feeling was nothing short of amazing,
as
the warm, slick wetness of her mouth enveloped his entire cock. The
feeling
was intensely erotic, and Harold closed his eyes with a moan and rolled
his
hips as he prepared to explode into her mouth.
A sudden, hard slap rocked his face. Shocked, he opened his eyes
to
stare at Michael, who had bounded off his chair and stood just behind
Diane. "Harold," he said quietly, "if you ejaculate in her mouth, she
will
bite your penis off."
At that moment, he felt a brief, sharp pain at the base of his
cock as
she dug her teeth in very slightly, just as a hint, before resuming her
sucking with double the intensity.
Cold horror gripped Harold's heart. He had been a fraction of a
second
away from coming before Michael slapped him, but the slap had brought
him
well back from the edge. Still, Diane's oral talents were nothing short
of
extraordinary and it would not be very long before he was back again.
She
slid his cock in and out of her mouth while lightly caressing his balls
with one hand. The other hand slid between his legs and began to tease
his
asshole with a finger. Already the pressure was beginning to build as
Harold frantically thought of a way to stop it.
In the midst of panic came a voice of calm. Your training, you
idiot!
it said. That's it! Harold replied. He began to repeat the mantras
Michael
had taught him over and over in his mind. Slowly, the real world began
to
fade into the distance as he entered a trance. The sensations beneath
his
belly eased to the point where he could contemplate them or dismiss
them
altogether. His heart slowed and his pupils dialated as his mind
entered an
alpha state. Within an amazingly short time he became pure ego,
floating in
a sea of peace and serenity.
After what seemed a brief yet endless time his hindbrain became
aware
that something changed and he resurfaced to conciousness, gazing at
Michael's gently smiling face. Harold looked down and saw that Diane
had
stopped, and was sitting at his feet, massaging her jaw.
"Jeez." she said, "Thirty fucking minutes. Nobody's ever outlasted
me
before." She looked up at him ruefully. "Mister, you are nothing short
of
amazing."
Laughing, Michael clapped Harold hard on the back, almost making
him
trip over his pants. He quickly pulled them up and refastened them.
"Well,
my boy," Michael said, "I guess I'd pronounce you cured, at least by
your
own standards."
Harold stood there, amazed. "I.. guess I really did it. I never
thought I would."
"I had no doubt." Michael said. "You have found one solution to
your
problem. Not the best one, in my opinion, but a solution all the same.
With
practice you shall find others, I'm sure."
Harold helped Diane to her feet. He looked her in the eye and
asked,
"Would you really have...?"
She just smiled and said nothing.
Harold gulped and looked over at Michael. "Would she have?"
Michael just shrugged. "Beats me. And I suppose I should know if
anybody would. After all, she's my wife."
Harold's jaw dropped open. It stayed that way for a moment, until
Diane reached up and gently closed it. "You look cute when you're
shocked."
she admitted. Then she gently tugged him towards the door.
"What are you doing?" he asked, still flabberghasted.
"I think we can find a more suitable place to finish what we
started..."
"But... but..." he looked over at Michael helplessly.
Michael just shrugged again, palms up. "She does as she wishes.
And I
wouldn't have it any other way. You have passed an important hurdle
today,
and a difficult one. You deserve a reward. Enjoy yourself. Both of
you."
Harold was silenced, at least long enough for Diane to drag him
out of
there and to his well-earned reward.
And what a reward it was!
Wanna more porn stories? >
http://www.incesttabooo.com/heat.html