My Weekend in Portland -- Chapter 2 of 15 (MF FF MFF)

By Chaz Thain

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WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
----------------------------------------------------------------


"Forget that order," I said, as Ruth reached hesitantly for my
fly, I have another idea."

"Yes, master," she said, and I shook my head impatiently.

"Don't call me master. That makes me feel like I'm in some stupid
sitcom." Then I recalled the eagerly submissive way she acted
toward her boss, invariably addressed as "Mr. Tucker."

"Call me Mr. K-----," I said, substituting my last name for
Tucker's, and she nodded.

"Yes, Mr. K-----," she said.

Taking Ruth by the hand, I sat her down in a wing chair by the
fireplace and settled into a facing chair. Then, for more than an
hour, I grilled her quietly but insistently about every detail of
her sex life. She was intensely embarrassed through much of my
interrogation, alternately blushing and turning pale as I
extracted her most intimate secrets. Once or twice I had to
remind her she was my slave, so she was not entitled to withhold
any secrets. Ruth tried to sit still, but sometimes squirmed in
her chair, and her nipples were often erect.

I learned her breasts and pubic hair began to appear when she was
10, and she started menstruating soon afterwards -- much to her
baffled horror. Her family was one of those that didn't discuss
sex. By 14, she was wearing C-cup bras and fending off groping
hands from classmates, teachers and even her parent's friends.
Ruth lost her virginity at summer camp when she was 15, to a
counselor who dumped her while his load was still dripping down
her legs.

Unfortunately, she got pregnant from that brief encounter and her
furious parents insisted on an abortion. They also severely
restricted her contact with boys through high school. Away from
home for college she had several brief relationships before
connecting with a guy almost as repressed as she was. For two
years their sex life consisted of him mauling her breasts and
pussy through her clothes, while she jacked him off through his
clothes. She was convinced they would get married after
graduation, but he dumped her instead.

Over the ensuing years, a series of relationships ended when the
guys involved found they couldn't get past first base -- ever.
One of those relationships ended in a date rape she had been too
horrified to report to police. Horrified because she hated being
forced, and enjoyed it at the same time.

Ruth began to cry silently while telling me about the date rape.
Most of her tears rolled down her cheeks, but an occasional
droplet fell onto her full breasts. I loved the way her teardrops
followed the curve of her tits.

"I WANTED to make love with him!" she said of the rapist. "I
really cared about him. I tried to go a little farther each time
we had a date. He played with my breasts a lot. But whenever he
tried to get inside my pants, I just froze. I panicked and made
him stop.

"At first he was understanding, but I could never explain why I
couldn't go any further," Ruth said quietly. "He stopped calling
and I got desperate. I called and told him I wanted to go all the
way. He came over and we started making out on the couch. He
opened my blouse and my bra, and that was okay. It was wonderful
when he played with my nipples. He took off my pants, and that
was fine. But when he tried to take off my panties, I panicked
again and stopped him.

"He just looked at me for a minute, then grabbed me by the hair
and dragged me to the bedroom. I tried to fight but he was too
strong. He threw me on the bed, ripped off my panties, and forced
himself inside me. I was so wet, it didn't even hurt. He came in
a couple of minutes."

"What then?" I prompted.

"I was furious and I was humiliated," Ruth said. "I thought about
calling the police. But I kept remembering how good it felt when
he first pushed inside me, and the next time, and every time.
After a couple of weeks had passed, it made no sense to call the
police.

"I waited and waited for him to call again," she said, "but he
never did."

Ruth's mysterious transfer from New York City to Portland
resulted when her boss there became sexually obsessed with her.
When he degenerated to the point of groping her breasts in
meetings, she sued and won a considerable cash settlement along
with a promotion and transfer to the West Coast. Her obsessed
former boss had been "exiled" to a sales district in Florida
where he spent most of his days golfing with clients.

"Have you ever sucked your own nipples?" I asked, noticing that
she clearly could.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't. That would be too nasty," Ruth said, blushing
deeply.

"Have you ever sucked a man's penis?"

"No. Except ... "

"Except what?"

"The man who raped me made me suck his penis when he was
finished."

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes ... no. I mean no."

"Do you ever masturbate?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"How often?"

"Once or twice a week. Whenever I can't stand it."

"Can't stand what?"

"Can't stand not touching my pussy."

"Do you come when you're masturbating?"

A pause, "No. Once."

"Can't you make yourself come more often?"

"I can't. It's too ..."

"You just stop when you get close to coming?"

"Yes."

"What do you do then?"

"I dress and go out somewhere public, or do aerobics, or
sometimes I drink a couple of shots of tequila. I force my mind
onto something else."

"Do you like tequila?"

"No, it makes me sick to my stomach."

"Has any man ever made you come?"

"No ... I don't think so. I think I was close a couple of times."

"Was one of those times the time you were raped?"

"Yes."

On and on I went, my dick straining in pants, wanting to drive
deep into the pussy three feet from me, her large mound demurely
covered by lacy white panties. Then things REALLY started to get
fun.

"Have you ever had sex with another woman?"

There was a long silence. Finally I asked, "Why don't you
answer?"

"It's been such a long time," Ruth sighed. "I put it out of my
mind."

"What happened?"

"It was freshman year in college. My roommate came home drunk,
late one night. It was hot. I was sleeping in panties, no covers.
She just took off her blouse and fell on top of me and started
kissing me. I remember how rough her bra felt against my skin. I
didn't know what to do, so I just laid there, pretending it
wasn't happening.

"She sucked my nipples for a long time, like she was hungry. I
felt like I was going to explode. She sucked me and bit me. Then
she just pulled my panties off, pushed my legs apart and started
eating me. I didn't even know what it was called, just that it
felt like heaven. I felt I was on fire. I came and came and came.
I think she did, too. She was moaning and crying out while she
was licking me. She had her jeans open and one hand inside her
panties. Afterwards she fell on her bed and passed out. We never
said a word about it, and she flunked out at Christmas. I heard
later she went home and got married."

"You still think about her?"

"Yes. Sometimes."

"What do you think about?"

"Just ... you know ... doing things to her ... that she did to
me."

"Is that the only time someone else has made you cum?"

"Yes."

"Stand up."

Ruth stood up hesitantly, and I beckoned her to stand close in
front of me. I told her to take off her delicate white panties,
and she slid them down her legs.

"Spread your legs."

Staring up into her eyes, I gently explored her crotch with my
right hand. Her dark pubic hair was dense and coarse over her
mons, thinning a little around her labia. A thin line of tiny
dark hairs descended from her navel until they merged with her
tangled pubes. Her hands hung by her sides, fists clenching and
unclenching as my fingers probed her opening. Her outer lips were
already engorged, fat, gaping open. Her inner lips were soft and
slippery wet.

My fingertips traveled gently up and down her slit, discovering
her beauty, while my eyes held hers -- dark and fearful --
exploring another kind of beauty. I found her opening, followed
the rim all the way around, then slowly pushed a finger inside
her, encased in warmth and wetness. Her mouth fell open and she
was panting now, her hands restlessly wandering.

"Put your hands on your breasts," I ordered. "Play with them."
Then later, "Play with your nipples," and she did, sighing
deeply, her areolae puckering.

I pulled my finger out of her and suddenly the smell of her pussy
was sharp in the room, delicious. I still held her eyes with
mine, except when hers drifted shut under a wave of pleasure.

"Ruth," I said, and her eyes opened. "I'm going to make you come
with my long, fat dick pushing in your pussy," I said, speaking
clearly so she could understand every word. "I'm going to make
you come with my tongue on your clit and my finger up your big,
sweet ass. I'm going to make you come in ways I haven't even
thought of yet, and now I'm going to make you come with my
finger."

Staring down into my eyes, Ruth's mouth twisted and she gave a
long, quavering moan -- I hadn't even really touched her. Then I
was sliding my slick, wet finger up her slit to rub lightly over
her hooded clit. Then I slid my finger down, rubbing her clit the
other way and repeating the motion. Now she was gasping for air,
her unfocused eyes staring wildly, straight ahead.

Pulling my finger up her slit, over her clit, then pushing down,
sliding over her little button on the way down. A little faster
and I looked up to see her tugging cruelly at her long nipples,
her head back and her mouth open. I speeded my finger and
suddenly she was coming, coming hard, crying out uncontrollably
and dropping quickly to her knees, her knees spread wide and her
weight back on her heels, her hips thrusting. I leaned over, put
my free hand behind her neck, and kept my finger sliding up and
down her slit.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! AH! AH! AH! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" came
from her open mouth, then, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, FUCK, FUCK
me!" like a fervent prayer for release, and she knelt in front of
me jerking, groaning, dripping, spasming and altogether
beautiful. I continued gently fingering her wet gash. Strength
gone, Ruth finally collapsed backwards onto the floor and I
followed her down, one arm around her bare shoulders, my hand
still cupping her hairy soaking pussy, my middle finger inside
her warmth.

She was whispering something inaudible, and I leaned over to put
my ear next to her mouth.

"Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod," was all she said, over and over.


(End of Chapter 2)

----------------------------------------------------------------
WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
----------------------------------------------------------------

