Dear Readers,
This is neither a tale of romance nor a drama. Rather it is an adventure! A rather unbelievable one if I manage to bring out my ideas in words! I hope you will like it. The sex, well, it is there because two of the main characters (both women) are quite nymphomaniacs. They add to the fun too in the later stages. This story can be read with pictures at http://sites.pornographytimes.com/erotica/series/cateyes/chapter1.htm
Regards
Cellinis (cellinis@pornographytimes.com)
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Latest Reviews from Readers:
Jan 21, 2005 by Jasmin: Interesting start! But I hope you won't let this one hang in the middle like a couple of your other series! |
He brandished his knife with apparent glee. Nothing turned him more than the rubbing of metal on the stone. Once satisfied with his work, he placed the knife in the sheath under his right leg. He checked the calendar once again. Five months had passed. From his drawer he took out the photographs. He looked again at the twinkling eyes, the charming smile and the lovely blonde hair of the person in the photo. Bringing it to his lips he kissed the photograph gently. Slipping the photo into the right hand pocket of his jacket, he locked the drawer and hid the key in the secret pocket of his jeans. Pulling up his Von Dutch jacket, he strode out to his bike with confidence. It took him a couple of kicks to start it. It too had been designed by Von Dutch, when he had been alive. A smile spread across his lips as the jew boy next door came out, sporting a Von Dutch cap. People just plain didn't read history. He zoomed off into oblivion.
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"Did you get my fax?" Winston shouted at his counterpart at J.P. Morgan Chase. He didn't mean too, but there was too much noise around him. He was sitting in his favorite restaurant, eating his favorite lunch. A tuna sandwich with loads of pickles. No one else made them but here. And here they made it because he just wouldn't have anything else. For a good customer, anything, even if weird.
"Yes I did and I am not very happy." Came the sedate reply.
"What the fuck do you mean you are not happy? What's there to be happy about?"
"Look Winston. We can't issue the credit to Stanley and Co. without some sort of assurance. We are not in the same position as you guys."
"Oh crap!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Dropped my fucking pickle." A laughter came from the other side of the phone. Winston's love for pickles was famous everywhere. "Okay. What about Lilith on Adam?"
"What about them?"
"Didn't you get the second page of my fax?"
"I did. They are good. Nothing stopping them."
"Great. I'll talk to you later then." He hung up. His greasy hands spoiling the phone as he touched the proper buttons. He didn't care. Not from the first or even a long second look could anyone make out that this man was one of the top sharks in Investment Banking business. He wiped off his hands on his 5000 dollar suit. He got up non chalantly and paid his bill, leaving behind a rather generous tip. So generous that it cost him more than his sandwich.
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Christine woke up late again. It was becoming a habit. Her night time strolls into the big bad underworld of drugs and stripping would end up taking toll of her beautiful body. But for now she was in perfect shape and happy with herself. Christine didn't think further than her eyes could see. A gift to some and a disaster to others. Besides, it wasn't sitting in with her books that she would satisfy her lust for cock. The mere idea of having a stable boyfriend turned her insides. She would become someone's girl only if she met someone who was as sexed up as her. So far, the people she had met had trouble satisfying her for a night. She didn't even consider spending life with them.
The first job of the morning was to go to the toilet. Taking the latest issue of the Vogue with her, Christine sat down on the pot. She loved the feel of early morning piss bursting out of her pussy. The fact that it was certainly mingled with the cum from the night (or morning) before excited her even further. Several times, in one of her dirtier moods, Christine had cupped her hands and drunk the piss that flew out of tight cunt. Not today however. Still, feeling the pee come out of her bladder, sprinkling lightly all around when she forgot to open her pussy lips, excited her a lot. Today was no different.
Once she had emptied her bladder, Christine ran her 18 year old hand on her pussy under the pretext of cleaning it. Actually, she just wanted to feel her pussy. Pissing had excited her enough that she wondered if she should not finger fuck herself to a fantastic orgasm right there. One touch on her pussy later, she had given up the idea. She had completely forgotten to shave her crotch! The hair were now hurting her hand as she touched them. Just like a three day old beard to a man. She spat out her cough like a seasoned smoker and got her shaving things ready.
Getting back on the toilet seat, she lathered all over her crotch, taking her own sweet time to do it. She loved the feel of shaving cream on her genitals. She preferred her hands and fingers to a brush and it took her a couple of minutes to get the lather properly going. It also ended up exciting her even further. She could still smell her own piss on her naked legs. She loved it. It made her feel dirty. And she adored being dirty. Her fingers slipped accidentally into her pussy with increasing frequency. She wanted to make herself cum but she couldn't afford to be late. It was a long drive down to Vegas.
She dipped the Gillette razor in water and brought it near her crotch. It was the part she feared the most. Not for the cuts that it might cause as she was much to expert for that. But rather the feel of the sharp blade on her sensitive skin caused her intense excitement. An excitement she could do well without. She didn't want to spend a couple of hours making herself cum all by her own. Apart from the obvious delay that it would cause, she preferred a nice and hard cock to her own small and dainty fingers.
The first touch of the cold blade sent shivers up her spine. She felt an immediate need to fuck herself but she controlled herself yet again and set the blade in motion. She decided on doing the outer hair first. By the time she had reached near her pussy lips, her juices were in full flow. Her large brown nipples were hard. As hard as they had ever been. A tingling sensation in her tummy urged her to take care of her immediate needs. She started shaving around her pussy lips, forcing herself to think of something else. Much though she tried, the only thing she could think about were the couple of large cocks she had sucked yesterday evening. Her favorite pastime. She would sometimes suck of the homeless alcoholics at five in the morning. They were the only ones she could find at that ungodly hour.
The closer the blade came to her clit, the more excited she got. Even with her eyes open she could see a nice pair of balls right in front of her. People hallucinate on drugs, Christine hallucinated on lust. By the time she had finished shaving her twat, she was dripping of pre cum. It was even seeping down her thighs, tickling her on the way down. She immediately went to the bathtub and showered cold water on her pussy area. Only, it had the exact opposite effect.
As the first streams of water hit her recently shaved cunt, she could feel lust surge into her. In a last attempt to take her mind off sex, she drenched her entire body in the ice cold water. But the desire just wouldn't leave her. It was time to go with the needs of her body. Squatting down on her knees she turned the shower onto maximum. Then she brought it right above her protruding clit and started rubbing her pussy with her fingers.
The effect was immediate. The sharp stings of ice cold water hit on her over sensitive clit repeatedly. It was as if someone with a very rough tongue was licking it for her. Maybe a dog. She had always wondered how that would go. Her fingers worked the rest of her teen pussy into frenzy with constant caressing. She started applying more and more pressure on her cunt, inserting a couple of fingers inside. She was soon jerking off herself with all her expertise, inculcated over the past few years since she had first discovered sex.
She now lay back on the wet floor, her back against the cold marble of the walls. The stinging showers of cold water had turned her on more than she had expected. She stopped fingering herself. Instead she stretched the skin around her pussy as tightly as she could with her fingers and directed the cold water straight on her clit. Within a few moments she could feel the muscles of her legs and hips tighter as an enormous orgasm hit her lolita body. Her hips bucked all over the place and she hit her knee on the tap several times. None of it prevented her from cumming again and again until her tired body slipped limply onto the shower floor.
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48 year old Mrs. Vette humped back with all her energy onto the cock of her young garden boy. He couldn't have been more than 18 years old, but then she liked them young. She was bending over the table that was until recently her husbands. But he passed away 2 months ago, poor dear. And so now it served as support to her very large breasts that this young stud couldn't take his eyes off. It had led him into her spacious pussy. Thankfully he was rather well hung so both of them were enjoying themselves to the utmost.
Her blonde hair flew all over once very attractive face. Of course even now it was hardly what you can call unattractive. She had made excellent use of her husband's money to remain in top shape, even if slightly chubbier around the cheek. It was those very well trimmed hips that pushed back at the youngsters cock right now. She could feel his wide sex slip in and out of her well lubricated cunt quite easily. He was even managing to hit the right spots! She knew that she and he were both very close to the orgasm. Just then the doorbell rang. The couple jumped up and rushed to put whatever piece of clothing they could find.
Mrs. Veronica Vette opened the door in her loosely hanging bathrobe. It was the grumpy Mr. Stevenson, Mr. Vette's family lawyer.
"I am sorry Mr. Stevenson! You caught me at a rather bad moment." she welcomed him in.
"My apologies Mrs. Vette. But I have some good news that I know you would like to hear immediately." He could smell her juices even from five feet away. He didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what she had been up to. But then Mrs. Vette was famous for her loose character and he plain didn't care.
"What would that be?" she asked, her curiosity risen.
"We have finally managed to get the approval from the board of directors for opening your husband's private safe."
"Ah! Finally!" It was indeed good news. She wondered what he had hidden there.
Together the two of them walked down to Mr. Vette's study and on to the large Fresco that hung on the wall over his black leather chair. Between the two of them they lowered the painting down. Mr. Stevenson also managed to get a nice and long look at Veronica's breasts, but he hid his lust with the admirable charm of a seasoned courtroom lawyer. He produced a key from his briefcase along with a slip of paper. As he read the numbers, Mrs. Vette moved the dials to their proper places. When finally she heard the click, he inserted the key in the lock and turned it. The old safe opened with a crunching sound and together they went over the contents.
There had been loads of papers that only the lawyer could make any sense of in the safe. There were also some additional insurance policies, life, theft and such. A box of jewels that had at once incited her interest and couple of rather strange looking boxes. But it was neither of them that Veronica Vette was now bending over, her bathrobe open in front and her 38DD breasts literally touching the carpet. In one of the smaller boxes marked 'For Veronica and Mark' she had found a very old parchment and a small notebook of eight pages. On each of the pages were some phrases that could only be riddles. She knew that her husband had loved riddles. The map, of course, was much more interesting. On the left corner was a large X. Even to Veronica, this X could only mean that there was some sort of a treasure hidden there. But she had absolutely no idea what this map represented.
After three very careful hours of thought, she finally picked up the phone and placed the call. It was time to let someone new in the secret.
"Winston Hicks." Came the booming voice, followed by, "Not again!"