My Weekend in Portland -- Chapter 6 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.
----------------------------------------------------------------


It was still raining steadily when I woke up alone, and a watery,
gray light was filtering in through Ruth's bedroom curtains. I
heard the shower running.

"Jeez!" I thought, "I'm going to ORDER her to quit bathing
without asking. Every time she starts smelling sweaty and sexy,
she takes a shower!"

At least her bed retained the powerful, musky smell of sex. I
burrowed in and dozed for awhile, until Ruth turned back the
covers on one side and slipped in next to me, delightfully nude.
But she smelled like scented soap. I stretched out and wrapped
her up with my arms and legs.

"Hmmm," she murmured contentedly. "I think I've died and gone to
heaven."

"Why did you take another shower?" I muttered grumpily.

"I thought you might like me clean," she said quietly.

"I DO like you clean," I insisted. "But I also like you sweaty
and wet and smelling wonderful. Next time you want to take a
shower, ask me first."

I flung off the covers on my side and walked into the bathroom
for a piss and a drink of water. I quickly brushed my teeth. When
I returned, Ruth was lying in the same spot, a worried look on
her face.

"You're not mad at me are you?" she asked.

I looked at her, considering.

"Maybe you could use a little discipline," I mused, "a little
reminder that you DO need to take orders." She was silent, eyes
downcast.

I found a pair of scissors and a drawer full of panty hose, and
in a few minutes Ruth was tied to the bed, spread-eagled on her
back. I was careful not to cut off her circulation, but my knots
were still good enough to hold her nearly motionless. My old Boy
Scout skills came in handy. I stood surveying my handiwork, but
the expression on my face must have been ambiguous.

"What are you going to do?" Ruth asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure ... but something will come to me," I said.

My eyes fell on a brandy snifter on her dresser. It held odds and
ends including a small, white feather that might have come from
an old-fashioned boa. I sat on the bed next to Ruth's motionless
form and she watched me closely as I leaned over and kissed her
deeply. She sucked my tongue while it searched her warm, hungry
mouth. After awhile I sat up and slowly dragged the feather over
her skin from her wrist down the exposed underside of her arm to
her armpit, under her breast and down to her waist. She shivered
and shrunk away when I hit the "tickle" zone over her ribs.

I concentrated for awhile on her left breast, drawing the feather
slowly along the rounded underside then up between her mounds and
over the top. I was pleased to see the nipple slowly stiffen,
while her areola began to contract. Ruth closed her eyes and
turned her head away, breathing deeply. I drew the feather
slowly, right over the nipple, and Ruth stretched, arching her
back to thrust upward. I drew the feather back over her nipple
the other direction and she sighed.

For five minutes or more I worked on Ruth's breast with the
feather, until her nipple and areola were engorged and dark and
she was panting with desire. "Ohhh, suck me baby," she pleaded,
"Suck me please!" I ignored her entreaty.

Then I stood up and moved to the other side of the bed where I
began teasing her right arm, side and breast. This time I took
even longer, concentrating on her reaction to each touch, making
sure her level of arousal swelled up and up. I glanced at Ruth
and found her face and neck flushed a delicate pink, her eyes
screwed tightly shut and her mouth gasping for air. Her arms
strained against their bonds, fists clenched.

"Please. No more. PLEASE!" she moaned. I didn't answer.

Briefly I stroked her neck with the feather, then I trailed it
lightly down between her breasts, down the groove in the center
of her stomach, into her belly button. After teasing her belly
button for awhile, I replaced the feather with my tongue, with
teasing soft touches. Ruth thrust her hips up eagerly when the
feather passed lightly through her pubic bush. Then I was
dragging it slowly down the inside of one thigh, then up the
inside of the other. She twisted her hips and legs, whimpering,
trying vainly to escape.

Still I slid the feather slowly up and down her inner thighs,
almost touching the puffy outer lips of her pussy where her
thighs met her sex. She was still trying, straining to escape my
light, feathery torture. I forced myself to continue, minute
after minute.

Finally, then, I tossed the feather away and knelt between her
outspread legs looking down at her bound and straining form. My
dick stood out straight, painfully hard, bobbing slightly. She
stared up at me, panting, a light sheen of sweat covering her
face.

"Now!" she whispered eagerly, lifting her head. "NOW!"

I leaned over and rested my weight on my elbows, my face only
inches from her crotch. I pursed my lips and blew on her pussy,
fanning the thick hair, enjoying the smell of warm skin and sex.
I turned and stroked the creamy skin of her thigh with the wet
tip of my tongue. Ruth gasped.

I turned my head the other way and trailed my tongue tip up her
leg, starting just above the knee and stopping an inch short of
her crotch. My nose brushed her coarse pubic hair and I heard
Ruth give a brief moan. Using short strokes, I licked my way up
the top of her thigh to the little crease where it joined her
hip. My tongue followed the crease down until I reached her hair.
Then I turned my head and did the same on the other side of her
sex.

Ruth's pussy looked delicious, through her thick hair I could see
her darker outer lips swollen open to reveal the delicate,
glistening pink of her inner labia. I slid my hands under her
buttocks, lifting and positioning her hips to begin feasting.
First I ducked my head and delved through her pussy hair to lick
the tiny patch of skin between Ruth's pussy and her tiny,
puckered asshole. She tensed. I drew the tip of my tongue slowly
up one side of her pussy, tracing the thick outer lip, then I
returned to the bottom and traced up the other lip. Her hips
jerked upward and she moaned.

"Please, please, PLEASE!" she insisted.

For a long time I teased the sensitive skin of her crotch with my
tongue, roaming from her asshole to the dense hair at the top of
her slit, occasionally turning my head to nip lightly at her
smooth inner thighs. I made long strokes up and down, coming as
near as I could to her slit without pushing inside. Ruth
responded first by helpless gasps, then long frustrated moans as
she thrust her hips again and again, seeking contact and relief.
Suddenly I stopped and raised my head.

"What do you want?" I said.

Momentarily confused, she didn't answer, and I repeated my
question.

"What do you want?"

"I want you," she said softly.

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do," I said.

"I can't say it!" she complained weakly.

"Say it or I'll stop right now," I threatened.

"I want you to lick me," Ruth said, voice low and quavery.

"Where do you want me to lick you?"

"I want you to lick my pussy," she said, gaining strength.

"What else?"

"I want you to lick my pussy and put your tongue inside me, and
... and suck on my clit!" she said.

"Say it again!"

"I WANT YOU TO LICK MY PUSSY AND TONGUE ME AND SUCK MY CLIT!" she
demanded.

I answered by driving my tongue, finally, between her outer lips,
pressing apart her thin, soft inner lips and plunging deep into
her slick, wet opening. The delightfully tart taste of her pussy
juice was on my tongue. I pulled out and drove my tongue inside
her again, and again, and again. She cried out with each
penetration, and I could feel her body straining against her
bonds.

Pausing a moment, I licked around her opening, then penetrated
her again, pushing my tongue as far inside her as it would go,
again and again. My face was wet with her juices from eyebrows to
chin. Finally I stopped tongue-fucking Ruth's pussy and began
licking my way in short strokes up the channel from her opening
towards her hooded clitoris. Reaching the top of her pussy, I
licked a wide circle around her clit, careful not to touch it.
Then I licked around it again, a slightly smaller circle, and
again, the edge of my tongue touching her bump. She gave a low,
short moan, her hips jerking.

Wrapping my arms around the tops of her thighs, I locked my mouth
at the top of her slit and continued circling her clitoris with
the tip of my tongue. Then I switched and began flicking my
tongue tip back and forth across her little bump, touching it so
lightly that I sometimes missed altogether. Now Ruth's whole
moaning body began to stiffen, her back and legs arching to hold
her hips suspended off the bed, offering her sex to my mouth. I
could feel the muscles in her lower abdomen tighten until they
were hard and flat. At the same time, I increased the flicking of
my tongue across her clit and slowly pushed my first finger into
her pussy and my slick, wet middle finger up her asshole.

For a breathless moment there was no reaction, then Ruth's body
began to convulse and she screamed a hoarse, wordless scream that
filled the room, stopped, then filled the room again.
"AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH!
AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH! AAAAHHHHHH!" I had to struggle to keep my
mouth on her pussy, my tongue flicking her pearl, as she
repeatedly threw her lower body completely up off the bed. Her
wildly bucking hips effortlessly lifted the weight of my upper
body.

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OHMYGOD! she shouted hoarsely.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKK!!!"

It seemed her climax would never end, but Ruth's shouts and
screams eventually turned into moans, then sighs, then silence.
Her body went limp and her convulsions subsided into tiny,
uncoordinated hip thrusts before she became altogether
motionless. I kept my mouth on her pussy, but now avoided her
too-sensitive clitoris and contented myself with short licks in
her slit and opening, tasting her flowing juices.

I lifted my head, finally, from her damp crotch and moved up to
straddle her waist. Ruth's face was relaxed, her mouth slack,
tear tracks running down from the corners of her eyes. Taking the
scissors from the nightstand I carefully cut the bonds on her
wrists and ankles. She remained spread-eagled, limp. Lying down,
I pulled her onto her side, into my arms, her face pressed
against my throat and my left thigh pressed up between her legs
into her soaking crotch. I pulled the covers over us and held her
like that, motionless. After 15 or 20 minutes she began to
whisper, so faintly I could barely hear.

"I feel like I've been hit by a tidal wave and survived, somehow.
But all my strength is gone. I've washed up on the beach and I
can't move."

She was silent again for awhile.

"Do other women feel like this?"

Before I could think of an answer, I heard the doorbell ring
downstairs.


(End of Chapter 6)

----------------------------------------------------------------
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.
----------------------------------------------------------------
