Quick Story 10

Quick Story 10

A new story. Kinder and gentler. Hope this one works for those folks on "alt.pantyhose" who found my recent QUIKstories boring, racist, and offensive.

Ah, the text! What ho, the text is thing!

QUIKstory #10 -- A Kinder, Gentler Story -- by Footman -- Part I

Now if it was me, she said. Yes. If it was me, I'd be naughty. She put her elbows on the table and leaned in toward me. Her perfume smelled sweet -- it was a scent I recognized and liked. How naughty? How naughty would you be? Listen, I'd write something raunchy. And do you know why? No. Because you write something raunchy and people will get angry. Her hand touched mine. Long fingers, long red fingernails. Then that's what I should do. People will read that, they will say: I hate this, I hate that, but so what? They will hate it because it is good and real. Yes. And why? Why will they say that? Because, she said. Because it's naughty. Some will call it racist. They will say it is inappropraite. They will be bothered by it, she said. She sipped her martini. She said, Is that what you do? You write dirty stories? Yes. I spend eight hours a day doing that. And there's good money in that? I explained that there was good money if they were sent to Penthouse or Oui or Hustler or Screw. But some I do for fun, I told her. Freebies, she said. And then I explained the Internet. The newsgroups on the Internet. I explained about the group "alt.pantyhose." And what is that about? she asked. Is that something you like? She lowered her voice. Yes. You're a man who likes pantyhose? Yes. She looked at me. She had blue eyes. Her hair was blonde, done-up carefully, in a severe style. She was an older woman -- in her late fifties, maybe. Sexy, so sexy. Her hand tightned on mine. And what happened, she asked. What happened with the story and the group you posted it to? Was it a naughty story? Yes it was, I said. It was a very naughty story. Was it explicit? Yes, I said. And what was it about? And then I told her. I told her about the asian woman in it, the names the narrator called the asian woman, names like "slut" and "bitch" and the way that the narrator treated the asian woman. I told her that it contained things that were naughty and difficult to write. I explained that it was interesting to write those difficult things because it meant I could write anything. I was a writer who could make up anything and write it. I told her about the bondage in it, the way the narrator treated the woman in the story. Some men and women find a story like that very exciting, I said. I know that because they wrote me nice letters and said so. They said that they read it with their girlfriend and boyfrind and then had the most wonderful sex they'd had in a while. Others wanted more of my QUIKstories. One man even offered to post it to THROBnet for me. Another said he appreciated the reality in the story, the fact that it was written well and was real and read smoothly. Others said it was too real and racist and some of worst crap they'd read in a long, long time and that it belonged on some obscure "alt.sex." group. She said: My oh my. I wouldn't expect that from someone like you. Are those things that people like to read? Some, I said. One man e-mailed me and said the writing style was garbage. I doubt that, she said. Another said I was a sick fuck. He threatened to turn me over to the FBI for writing pornography. He said I was one sick fuck who should be behind bars for writing a story like that. He said he'd already called the FBI and contacted the anonymous sever which I used and the FBI had my name and would soon be contacting me. I grinned. I said: But I've been sitting right here writing and the FBI has not yet come. I will be waiting for them, though. Do you know why? No, she said. She was looking at me. Tell me. Because. I sipped my drink. Because I'm a sick fuck. She liked that. She smiled. She said it again: Is that what you are? Maybe. You're just naughty, she said. I'm a writer. A naughty writer. Yes. How naughty are you? She lowered her voice. Would you tell me? She squeezed my hand.

---

She lived on the edge of town in a big house with three garages and a pool out back. I followed her inside and into the living room and then she set her purse down on the couch and slipped off her fur. She apologized for the mess. It's no mess, I told her. But it is. Can't you see? I'll have to clean this. She took my coat and her fur and went into the closet along the far wall. I watched her walk. She wore a white silk blouse and dark slacks and black nylons and high black heels. The heels swooped to a point. She looked comfortable in those heels, as if she'd walked in them often and owned quite a few. She told me to sit and I did and she went into the kitchen. I paged through a House Beautiful and then an Architectural Digest and when she returned she was carrying two martinis. She sat down beside me and offered me and then sat back and let out a sigh. What a day, she said. Has it been a day for you too? Yes, I said. A long day. It's so nice to come home and to be with someone and relax. I relax so seldom. She slipped off her shoes and I could see that her toes were painted red and her feet looked lovely with high arches. Her black nylons were sheer and across the top of her foot I could see the faint glimmer of the light above. She reached for her drink and said: Do you like it? Do you like your drink? Yes. And then she stuck her finger in my glass and stirred. Here, she said. Is that good? She held her finger out and I took it my mouth and tasted the drink. Taste it. She moved her finger in my mouth slowly and then pulled it out. You like that? What a good drink, I said. I like that. It tastes good? Yes, I told her. Yes. And then I did the same with my finger and she took it and held it and I felt her tongue press against my fingertip. She held my hand gently and slowly pulled my finger from her mouth. I make a good martini don't I? she said. The best. We were close now, our lips not quite touching. I feel drunk, she said. That's not good. No, it's not. But I have my facilities. She kissed my nose. Do you have your facilities? I think so. I think I do. We'd be naughty if we did anything without our facilities. That would be politically incorrect, I said. Oh my yes, she said. Yes. That would be just the sort of thing your friends on "alt.pantyhose" might object to. You might write a QUIKstory in which the narrator takes advantage of a woman who is bereft of her facilities. That's a no-no, I said. I tried that with QUIKstory #9 but many found that offensive and politically incorrect. They assumed that I, the writer, possessed the same qualities as the narrator of the story, and therefore drew the erroneous conclusion that like the narrator, I, the writer, would do something as terrible as taking advantage of someone who had too much to drink. These critics are not very savvy when it comes to making the distinction between fact and fiction. It's as if they've never heard that the narrator of the story is not the same person as the writer of the story. Maybe they should go back to LitCrit 101 and rethink their hasty conclusions. Literature is a complex thing and for some of my "alt.pantyhose" detractors it is perhaps too complex. Their idea of a good book is Robert Waller's "Bridges of Madison County" or Stephen King's "Nightmares and Dreamscapes." I feel sorry for them. They must have such boring, unimaginative lives. Oh my, she said. There are even rules to erotica now. It's so unfair. She took another sip and swallowed. Your friends on alt.pantyhose sound like snobs. No, I said. I wouldn't say that. They're just uptight, some of them. They feel as though they must police their little corner of the internet and censor everything they don't like. She leaned close and whispered: But you *do* feel a little giddy, too, don't you? Yes, I said. Yes. And then I kissed her nose. I felt giddy but about me had my facilities. And then I felt her hand slide around my neck and slowly pull me close and we kissed and for a long time our tongues touched. I moved my hand around her smooth blouse to her back and pulled her close. And when I pulled, she pulled me even closer. She broke away and said: My oh my. Are we naughty? Is this something you'd put in a story? She slid her hand to my crotch where my rock hard cock pressed against my bluejeans. My, she said. That feels giddy, too. You are giddy. I feel naughty. Oh baby, she whispered. She kissed my cheek. Not too naughty. No, I said. I feel very naughty. She closed her eyes and rubbed my crotch and said: That feels so big. That feels so big. Is it too big for me? I undid my snap and then she looked down and pulled down my fly. She smiled softly and I could feel her fingers gently pulling me and tugging and working my gently until it sprang forth. Oh my, she said. She wrapped her soft fingers around my cock. That ius quite naughty. She knelt down on the floor and positioned herself between my legs and then took my cock and with her thin lips kissed the tip and then slid out her tongue and worked up and down the side slowly. Her fingers were low on the shaft near my balls and her palm pressed into my balls. I watched her face. She'd closed her eyes and licked it slowly, each time pausing to run her tongue around her lips and take another deep breath. Is this something, she said and then took the cock in her mouth and then slowly let it out. Is this something that might be in one of your stories, baby? It could be, I said. Is this naughty enough? Was this in that story about the asian woman? Yes, I said. Yes but. And then I stopped because she was holding my cock in her mouth. She had taken the hole thing and when I opened my eyes and looked down I saw her cheeks bulging and both her hands on my thighs and could hear her breathing slowly. I took hold of her head with both my hands and gently pulled her deeper. She grunted and I took that grunt to be one of satisfaction because she slowly lifted her mouth from my cock and when it was free she said: That's sweet. That's so sweet, baby. And then she stood up in front of me and slowly took off her blouse. She watched me with slow, carefree eyes and I sat with my rock hard cock before me and watched as her long fingers undid the blouse one button after the other and then watched as slid the blouse from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor atop her high black heels. Now she stood in only a black lace bra and her black slacks. The bra was thin and I could see through the lace to her red nipples. They were hard and stood as hard as my cock and she slowly brought her fingers to those nipples and her titties and touched the nipples first and then when I grunted held her titties and said: Let's be naughty tonight. Let's be naughty and wet. And then she turned so that her ass faced me and undid the snap to her slacks and said: I've got a little surpirse for you. She pulled down her slacks and I saw that she was wearing french-cut lace-pantyhose, the sort advertised in Victoria's Secret. Her ass was small and tight and looked delicious in the dim light. I watched as she let her slacks fall to her feet. She said: Do you like my pantyhose? Yes. She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees so that her ass was not far from my face. I put my hands on her hips and kissed one cheek and then the other and then ran my tongue and up down the seam which ran down her dark crack. It smelled sweet and felt smooth on my tongue and I liked that. That's naughty, she said. I turned her round so that she faced me and her pussy faced me and I saw that the hair of her pussy was trimmed in a straight line so that she could wear tight bikinis and I liked that and told her so. It's nice, isn't it. Tell me it's nice. I told her. I moved her close and kissed her and the hair of pussy bristled through the nylon weave of the pantyhose and rubbed against my cheek. She took hold of my head and pulled me close. I looked down her dark legs to her feet and saw her toes poking out from the pile of her slacks still arounnd her ankles. I ran my fingers down her legs and kissed the inside of her calves and then touched her feet. You're a footman, too. You like my feet? She slid her feet out of her slacks and then kicked the slacks atop her blouse and high heels and then lifted her foot so that it was in my lap. She touched my cock with her toe and touched it again. I watched it and watched her pantyhose. She sat down on the edge of the sofa and the swiveled herself so that she was lying down and brought her toe to my lips and nose and said: Lick my toe. Do it right now. I took her foot gently and pressed it against my lips. I licked her big toe and kissed it. Stick it in your mouth. I did and held it and against my tongue and lips felt the weave of her nylons. Then she took it out and said: Rub it. Give me a massage. Yes, I said. I will do that. And in my hands I rubbed her toes and her soles and her heels and her ankles. She had smooth heels and I lifted one and kissed it and then bit it in a playful way. I did the same with the other. She moved her toes gently as I massaged and she occasionally pressed them against my cock which was still rock hard and on it I could see the veins up and down the shaft. I took her feet and pressed them against the cock. She watched me. You like that? Yes. You have a big cock. She squeezed her feet togther and I closed my eyes because it felt good. I leaned my head back and let her feet for a while work my cock. Then knelt on the sofa and took my cock again in her mouth and said: It's so big. I lay back and watched her work. I felt her slide her lips over my cock and hold it in her warm mouth. She looked up at me. Now tell me about that story. She held the cock with both her hands. Tell me what was so naughty about it. The narrator in the story raped someone. My, she said. That's not nice. But it's just a story. And while he raped her, he called her names, I said. What names? Bitch, I said. He called her a bitch. She watched me and then reached down and touched herself. Would you like to call me that? Can I be a bitch? I don't know. I took my cock again and slid her lips down and held it and said: I'll be your bitch. Will you let me do that? Only if you want to. Say it, she said. Say I'm your bitch. I said it. She took my cock again. Yes, she said. I watched the cock slide in and then looked up and saw her feet dangling off the edge of the sofa and thought of those feet in my mouth. I thought of my holding those feet gently and licking her toes and the stockings and then taking the stockings off. I thought of myself licking her warm soles and then backs of her toes. Say it, baby. Tell me what I am. What did the narrator of that story do to his ... she hesitated and then looked at me and smiled ... to his bitch? He tied her up. That's not very nice. And then she began to take my cock harder and licked it and then took it in her mouth and worked quickly and moved up and down and up and down and began moaning. I watched her back move and her cheeks bulge and her pantyhose covered feet dangling off the edge of the sofa. I felt my toes arch and then I came. I came hard and into her mouth. She held on and I heard her swallow and then swallow again and then she moved away and looked up at me. Cum dripped from her lips and she closed her eyes and swallowed a third time and then with the back of her hand wiped her mouth and opened her eyes. She climbed next to me and kissed me and whispered in my ear that she wanted to be my bitch and slave. But just for the night, she said. We will trade off, would you like that? Yes. And then you can be my slave and take care of my feet and lick my pussy and dress me in the clothes that make me a good girl. Yes, I said. Yes I would like that. But tonight, she said. She stood up and took my hand. Tonight, she said. You can fuck me and call me what you want and tie me up. She took my finger in her mouth and held it. I'm all yours, she said. I'll wear pantyhose if you like. And then she led me into the bedroom.

end part I.

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From rz.uni-passau.de!fauern!xlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!sunic!trane.uninett.no!news.eunet.no!nuug!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Wed Dec 1 19:14:03 1993 Article: 14891 of alt.sex.stories Message-ID: <084312Z01121993@anon.penet.fi> Path: rz.uni-passau.de!fauern!xlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!pipex!sunic!trane.uninett.no!news.eunet.no!nuug!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: an31972@anon.penet.fi X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous contact service Reply-To: an31972@anon.penet.fi Date: Wed, 1 Dec 1993 08:38:57 UTC Subject: QUIKstory #10--A Kinder, Gentler Story--Part II Lines: 279

Part II of a kinder, gentler sort of QUIKstory. At the behest of my "alt.pantyhose" critics, I have toned this down considerably. I feel this now fits in well with the calibre of stories posted previously on alt.pantyhose. (Note: This is not to denigrate any story previously posted. I especially like each part of "Black Stockings." That story is rendered strongly and is rife with careful detail. Kudos.)

You'll of course remember the first part of QUIKstory #10: the narrator falls for an older woman, and this woman -- whose name is Betty -- takes the narrator home to her house. A mutually consented upon erotic encounter ensues, and Part I ends with Betty naked but for a pair of sheer black pantyhose leading the narrator into her bedroom. Now for those critically impaired readers on "alt.pantyhose," let me once again remind you that the following is a work of fiction. It is written by a writer who has decided to use a first-person narrator to tell the story. Any similarity between the "writer" and "narrator" is a possibility but not an inevitability. The "I" of the story's narrator is not the "I" of the story's author. If any further critical assistance is needed, please don't hesitate to drop me a line. Moreover, let me remind those same readers that you possess the option of pressing "n" on your newsreader. If you are using either the "rn" or the "nn" newsreader, pressing "n" will skip this post in its entirety. You are empowered, in other words, and need not function as a newsreading automaton, merely tapping the <SPACEBAR> and reading each and every article that comes down the pike. Internet is a wonderful thing and there are many wonderful options. I encourage those "automatonic" readers to pick up any of the recent Internet guides -- _Internet for Dummies_, is a good one -- in order to learn the little tips and tricks which can, in only a few hours, lead to empowerment. Again, this is just a remedial reminder for those folks who don't quite realize that skipping this or any other article is an option.

Remember: Just Say No. And Just Press "n"

QUIKstory #10 -- A Kinder, Gentler QUIKstory--by Footman -- Part II

She led me to the bed and held me and we kissed and I could taste myself inside her mouth. She went to her closet and opened the door and I saw a wide selection of shoes and clothes. She said: Now you want me to wear something don't you? I sat down on the bed. I saw shoes of all sorts: heels and flats and pumps and mules and slingbacks in all different colors. I watched her in the dim light and stared down at her long legs in those pantyhose. The lace gripped her ass in a nice way. She didn't look as old she was and I liked that. I said: I want something nice. I want you to wear something a nice girl would wear. She bent over and I studied the curve of her ass and up she came with a pair of modest black pumps with a silver buckle on the toe. She stripped out of her pantyhose and set the shoes on the carpet and pointed her long toes and stepped into them. Her calves looked so good and smooth and delicious and she stood still for a moment. Like these? These are good shoes. I work in these shoes. Yes, I said. I like those. She walked toward me slowly with an exaggerated lilt of her ass and let her arms dangle down low and calm. She watched me and then stood before me. Say it, she said. Say what we said we were going to do. I don't want that, I said. I don't like saying that. She kissed my forehead. You're nice, she said. You're too nice. I lay back and pulled her with me and she moved on top of me. She took hold of my large cock and admired it and then asked if she could mount me. I said I'd like that and she did. She pulled the cock slowly inside of her and it went in smoothly and felt warm. Her pussy was tight. I held onto her ass and pulled her close. We'll make love, I said. We'll do it in a nice way. Her head was back and her eyes were closed and her hands touched herself, they touched her titties and her breasts and down her stomach to her pussy. She touched her pussy and then slid both her hands behind her so that they were touching my legs and then balls and with her finger slowly slid into my anus. Mmmmm, she said. You like that. Yes. My god, she said. She said: My god my god and rocked on me. I felt her finger move gently inside of me and with my hands pulled her close. Deep, she said. Deep like that yes. Yes. And we found a rhythm and I watched her legs and leaned out slightly so that I caught a glimpse of her shoes, her modest black pumps with the small heels. She saw me and said: You like that, don't you? You like watching me. Yes. She rolled her head back and relaxed and we fucked and then slowed and then made love and we kissed and she ran her hands over her body. Fuck me, now, she said. That's right. I pulled her and went deep and she said: yes, yes, yes. And then I heard her moan and groan and felt her shake and she said: Yes! And then she came. I felt it because she stopped moving suddenly and sucked in her breath and then moaned out loud. I held her. She lay still. I pushed deep and she moaned. My god, my god, she said. That's so deep. That's so deep, she whispered and then eased herself up and out and we both looked down at the cum which dripped from her pussy. She looked down at me and smiled and said that was the best she'd felt in a long time, a long, long time, and then tenderly went down on me and licked and held me. She licked my cock and balls and held them both. Her hands were warm. Then she slipped her shoes off so they thunked beside the bed and lay beside me and told me to sleep. Sleep tight, she said. There's more to come. And after a while we both fell asleep. Against my chest I could hear her soft breathing in my dreams.

And then what? I don't know. This character is an older woman, she said. Yes. An older woman sleeping with a younger man. Like myself, I said. A much younger man. Yes. But you're writing this story and now you're stuck. I can't think of what might happen next. It needs conflict. The biggest problem with these QUIKstories of mine is conflict. She moved her hand over and touched mine and slipped her fingers through mine. We held hands and did not say anything for a while. You need something to spice it up, she finally said. Yes. Something dangerous. Anything. The two of us were sitting in a small restaurant not far from we're we'd gone on our first date. We'd come here often, usually after I'd finished a day of writing. I felt frisky, very much so, and oftentimes she would stop by my apartment and knock and then come in and make herself comfortable. She worked downtown and she'd be dressed in the clothes in which she worked, professional clothes which had gotten very sexy. We spent weekends shopping and she bought quite a few nice things -- stockings, shoes, suits with skirts that were quite short. I liked it all and told her so. There's been danger when you've been at my place, she finally said. She looked at me. Did you know that? What danger? Stephanie, she said. Who? The daughter of my first husband. She lives with me. You didn't know that. That's something you could put in your story. The lovers have to be quiet because there is someone else there. You didn't know that. No I didn't. She comes home late most nights. She leaned over and kissed my nose. We just haven't heard. We've been busy. She sleeps there? She lives there. I felt her toe pressing up my leg. She moved it up slowly. That's dangerous, I said. That's a good conflict. Add that to your story. Have your friends on the newsgroup said anything about your new kinder, gentler story? They will. I just posted it this morning. Baby, she whispered. Her toe eased into my crotch. Let me tell you about Stephanie. She's a bad girl like me. Is she? Baby, she whispered. Just you wait.

Betty has told me about you, Stephanie said. I said I hope it was good. Stephanie looked at me. She watched me and then let her eyes drop to my crotch and then back up to my face. Very good, Betty said. Stephanie smiled. She was dressed up for a date: a tight black cling dress and black slingbacks. Her pantyhose were seamed and along the backs of her legs the seams were not quite straight. As we talked, she straightened. Betty had stopped by my apartment after work and we drove out to her place. She'd slipped off her shoes and was now dressed in a gray suit and a white blouse. Suntanned pantyhose which she knew I liked and which she now wore without a crotch. We'd gone downtown a day ago and into a small boutique and Betty picked up several pairs in several colors. Stephanie turned round so that I could see her legs and ass and her black pantyhose and her tiny heels in her slingbacks and asked if everything was straight. Close your eyes, Stephanie said. Betty, she said. Make sure his eyes are closed. Close them, Betty said. She's shy. Very shy, said Stephanie. I closed them but peeked anyway. Stephanie reached behind her and with her small fingers took hold of the nylon and pulled and pulled and then lifted her skirt and suddenly I caught a glimpse of her ass behind the pantyhose and saw that they too were crotchless like Betty's. Stephanie took hold of the top seam and moved it and straightened it and then smoothed her skirt down. Betty was watching me and when I moved my hands away, I saw that she was smiling.=. Stephanie turned and faced us both and said: I'll be late. Don't wait up. We never do, said Betty. She came to bed in a satin green chemise with sheer bodice and a pair of black stockings with lace garters. I ran my hands over the chemise and kissed her lips and then slid my hands beneath the chemise to her titties which were warm and her nipples hard. She said: I feel naughty. I want you to be naughty. And then she knelt on the bed and said: Fuck me in the ass. I want a hard fuck in the ass. She closed her eyes. I lifted the chemise and stripped out of my bluejeans and then knelt behind her with a thick, hard cock and first kissed one ass cheek and then the other and with the tip of my cock gently pressed into her anus. It was hard and she was not wet and she said it did not feel good. Then she turned and took my cock into her mouth and slicked it down so it glistened. Mmmm, she said. I love your cock. I love it because it is so big. Is that naughty? Yes, I said. And then she smiled at me and stuck her finger into her pussy deep and then began slicking down her anus with her wetness and then turned back on her knee and took hold of her ass with her fingers and spread it and said: Fuck me. Go ahead now. Fuck me in a naughty way. I pushed in and when I did she moaned and said yes, this was naughty. You're a naughty boy, she said. Her smell rose above us both and I sniffed deep because it was a sweet smell and because her smell was one that I loved. I loved the fact that she was on her knees, an older woman before me and me with my thick cock up her tight ass, her feet so perfect and delicious in their black nylons, and her body so curvy and tight and lickable and sweet. She had titties and nipples that rose hard in the dark bedroom when I touched them and bit them and held them between my lips. I loved that she walked always with a look that looked rich and I loved that she wore clothes that were always rich and delicate and soft and feminine. I pushed deep and she screamed out. She said it was so big and thick and that she wanted to be fucked. Fuck me, she said. She spoke out of breath and her voice was low and guttural. Fuck me hard because I've been. Because I've been. Fuck me. I've been a bad girl. Oh god oh god. She was yelling out. Oh god oh god. And when I came I came hard and pushed her forward and she fell face first into the pillow. I pulled out slowly and from her sweet ass she dripped cum. She took her fingers and wiped it from her cheeks and then engorged herself on those fingers and panted hard into the pillow. Oh god, she whispered. Sobbing, almost, quietly sobbing. Oh god. Baby, you're sweet. I touched her gently and kissed her bare shoulder so pale now in the light of our bedroom. I kissed it and said that I loved her. I said I loved her for being a bad girl and a good girl. She reached and fumbled for me and took my gently and held me. I love you, too. She was out of breath and spoke with her eyes closed, her face and lips into the pillow. Yes. Later that night we awoke and made love slowly, the both of us naked in the dark, me on top and moving tenderly. We moved and kissed and she said: Sweet sweet sweet. She whispered it over and over again, her hands touching my lips and cheeks and her fingers running through my hair. She came first and when she did arched her back and said nothing. She kissed me and relaxed and whispered my name. And then I came and moved gently and after a moment we lay beside each other and kissed. Night baby, she whispered. I whispered the same and held her.] I awoke and heard Stephanie downstairs. Betty lay still. I heard Stephanie climb the steps and then stop outside our door. I listened for a long whole and saw beneath the door her shadow. She stood there and did not move. And after a while she went on down the hall. I listened and heard her pull her door shut and close it softly. Betty did not stir and I kissed her on the cheek. She was beautiful and I kissed her again and then she stirred and fluttered her eyes and in the dark bedroom looked up. Baby, she whispered. Shhhhh, I said it softly and then kissed her again. Sleep, baby. Sleep.

end part II.

From rz.uni-passau.de!informatik.tu-muenchen.de!zib-berlin.de!netmbx.de!Germany.EU.net!EU.net!sunic!trane.uninett.no!news.eunet.no!nuug!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Wed Dec 1 22:08:08 1993 Article: 14907 of alt.sex.stories Message-ID: <175321Z01121993@anon.penet.fi> Path: rz.uni-passau.de!informatik.tu-muenchen.de!zib-berlin.de!netmbx.de!Germany.EU.net!EU.net!sunic!trane.uninett.no!news.eunet.no!nuug!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: an31972@anon.penet.fi X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous contact service Reply-To: an31972@anon.penet.fi Date: Wed, 1 Dec 1993 17:51:35 UTC Subject: QUIKstory #10--A Kinder, Gentler Story--Part III Lines: 286

The story thus far: - Narrator falls for Betty. - Betty and narrator partake in erotic acts. - Betty, an older woman, has a step-daughter, Stephanie. - Betty has beautiful feet. - The narrator loves Betty in pantyhose. - Betty likes being naughty. - Stephanie, the unknown quantity, provides a tidbit of dramatic tension.

What will happen? How will it end? Who's to blame? And what's with the overgrown gerbil? (Censored for the benefit of those readers in "alt.pantyhose" who mightn't be able to stomach the gerbil incident.)

I beseech you, fair readers. Read on! Partake freely in my bright little fictional world!

QUIKstory #10--A Kinder, Gentler Story--by Footman--Part III

Betty married my father and then they divorced. It was that simple. How long did they stay married? Long enough for her to fall in love with someone else. I see, I said. Stephanie and I were sitting in a small coffee shop uptown. She was wearing a long sweater and a black mini and black pantyhose and a pair of leather flats. Her perfume smelled like Betty's and I liked it. Betty's great, though, said Stephanie. She lowered her voice. I really like Betty. A lot. She's wonderful. I see you two. I see what's happening there. Stephanie took a sip of coffee and then smiled at me. She leaned close and said: Really, you two should quiet down. Are we loud? Stephanie laughed at that. We'll quiet down. No you won't, Stephanie said. I've been around long enough to know that. You won't do that. With Betty that's impossible. Stephanie grinned at me. She said: Betty does that. She does that. I know about Betty. And then Stephanie looked up over my shoulder out the window across the street and said: And you, said Stephanie. She looked at me. Betty's told me about you. What about me? I asked. Stephanie closed her eyes and leaned her head back slightly and said: Oh my yes. She shook her head. Mmmmmm, she said.

Betty offered up her arms and I wrapped her wrists with a black scarf. She moved her head to the side and moaned and said: Be gentle. Promise you'll do that. I can't promise. Please be gentle, baby. I'm asking you. Beg me, I said. I'm begging you. I pressed my hard cock against her nose and then her lips and told her to open wide because here it comes. Wider, I said. Wider. And when she was open I looked down at her open mouth and the tongue and then pressed my cock deep. She took it and started to gag but when she did I pressed it even deeper. I was naughty about it, not nice, and she grunted out. I held it deep and finally she quieted down. I moved in and out. All of it, I said. Her bulging cheeks, lips tight and red around my thick shaft. Take it all. Is this what you want? It is, I said. You want this. You want it bad. She was still wearing the clothes she'd worn all day: her suit and suntanned pantyhose and black pumps. She sat on the sofa with her legs immodestly spread and the skirt, short as it was, up around her hips so I could look down and see the cotton crotch of her pantyhose and a part of the stitched topseam which ran around her hips. Her shoes were still on and I looked down at her ankles and saw that they looked thin and sleek in the living room light. I shoved my cock deep and as I did watched her shoes, her black pumps, and her legs which looked so sleek in the light. Get it wet, I said, and I pulled it out. She breathed out, out of breath and did not open her eyes. More, she said. Go ahead. Fuck me. I've been bad. I've been naughty today. How come? Oh baby, she said. I wanted to wear flats instead of heels this morning. That's bad, I said. Yes, I've been so bad, she said. And then I took hold of her blouse and pulled it open and when I did the buttons popped. Don't hurt me, she said. Please don't hurt me. I'll give you anything. Like what? I'll suck your cock. I'll suck it and swallow and be your slave. I felt her roughly through the creamy-lace bra and said: You're already that. You're already my slave. No, she said. No. But instead of looking away she moved so that she swallowed my cock and then held it gently and I pushed forward. Mmmm-hmmmmm, she said. Mmmmmmmmm. Up and down the wet shaft, up and down. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around me and I heard her kick one shoe off and then the other. She set her stockinged feet back on the floor and I looked down at them, the nicely painted nails. The high arches. I moved away and then knelt down between her legs. What is it, baby? What is it? Shhhh, I said. I lifted her foot and sniffed and liked that sweet smell, the warmth of her feet and the leather from her shoe and rubbed that across my nose and my lips and my cheeks. Yes, she said. You like that. You like that. I told her to keep quiet and then I took the other foot and lifted it and took her toe in my mouth and held it and sucked. I felt the nylon. And then I slipped it out and lifted it high so I could look at her soles, the seam across the bottom of her toes. I kissed that seem and then her sole and lifted her foot up so that I could press the heel to my lips and so that the bottom of her foot covered my face. I sucked at that heel, sucked at sucked, and then spread her legs wide and sunk my head and lips into her cotton crotch. Betty moaned. I'm so wet, she said. And she was. She was wet and through the cotton-crotch smelled sweet and then I poked my tongue and teased her and she pressed her legs to my head and squeezed tight. Suck me, she said. I'm so wet. And then I stood up and pulled down her pantyhose and when I did I saw strands of her wetness string out from the cotton crotch as I inched down the pantyhose to her heels and then pulled them off her feet. Then I spread her legs again and picked up her bare feet and kissed the toes and pressed the nails against my cheeks and kissed the warm soles. I licked her toes and over her fingernails and stuck her big toe in my mouth and then others and then tongued inbetween each toe. And then I ticked her bare soles. I tickled her and she tried to yank away but couldn't. Baby, she said. I pressed her soles to my cock and they felt warm. Still warm from the day, standing for the day, sitting at her desk, walking about. Still warm and sweetly smelling from wearing high heels and sheer pantyhose. I liked that and told her so and she said nothing and moaned. I tickled those soles and she tried to kick but couldn't because I held her feet firmly. She then stopped and lifted both feet and gently pressed them to my lips. I sucked and sucked until her big toe was wet and her toenail glistened. I sucked it slowly, sucked it the same way she sucked me, in and out, in and out, and watched her. I held onto her foot, my fingers squeezing her arch, and sucked until I tired of sucking that foot and switched to the other. Her feet were long and her toes were long and I brought those neatly manicured toes to touch the tip of my cock. I pressed my cock into her sole and watched her feet. I stared down at the arches and pressed them into my cock, against the shaft. They were smooth feet. I ran my fingers to her heels and cupped both heels inside my palms and held them gently and brought one foot to my lips and kissed it and then brought the other and kissed it and did that three times, one foot and then other. Long toes pointed out, soles against my fingertips warm and sweet. And then I moved forward and dug my face back into her pussy and kissed it and licked it. I stuck my tongue in deep, as far I could stick it, and while I did that I ran my fingertips down her smooth legs and held onto her heels. I held her bare heels and tongued her pussy until I felt her thighs press against my face, harder and harder, until she jerked forward. Her thighs opened and closed on my face and her heels kicked up from my hands. She'd come hard and said so. Oh baby, baby. I rose to my feet and stood and then knelt on the sofa and straddled over her. She kissed at my chest, took one nipple and then the other, and sucked at them. My oh my, she said and looked up at me. My oh my. And then I reached behind her and untied the black scarf and she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me and held me close and said I was the one. You're the one, she said. Do you know that? Her eyes were wide open and blue. You are too, I said. And then she hugged me and gripped me around the ass and when she did I closed my eyes. But I did not think of Betty's sweet feet. I did not think of Betty's long legs and tight ass. I thought of Stephanie and I imagined her face moving down, her mouth open slightly, and the first warm rush when her wet lips touched the head of my cock and when she took my cock into her mouth and held it. I thought of Stephanie's long fingers holding my cock gently along its wet shaft, holding it softly and licking it with a slow tongue up and down, up and down. You're the one, Betty whispered and her fingertips moved up and down my back and touched me in a serious and gentle way.

Jesus. It's me. Betty said you were out. I was. Stephanie set her packages on the coffee table. I was, she said. But now I'm in. She looked at me. I looked at her. You know what I got? she asked. What? She picked up a box and started for the stairs. I want to show you something, she said. At the foot of the stairs she turned and looked at me. She opened the box. Like it? She held a black teddy to her chest. You think this is me? Is this my look? I watched her. She kicked off her heels and stood in her stocking feet. She wore a black leather mini and sheer black stockings. Say it, she said. Be a good boy. Say that you think it's me. I said it. She started up the stairs. Just so you know, she said. It won't be as easy as you think. What? I had risen to my feet. You're gonna have to work for it. I'm not like Betty. So don't get that idea. At the top of the stairs she stopped and quickly undid her blouse and then turned so that it fell open and revealed her two titties, both of which were large and both of which had nipples as hard as my cock. She touched one red nipple and pursed her lips and looked at me with a pouty grin. She blew me a kiss and said: If you want some sweet sugar, you'll get it. But, baby, you're gonna get on your knees and work at it. And then she turned and walked the hall to her bedroom.

I showered quickly. I scrubbed and scrubbed and then dried myself off and when I went into the bedroom Betty was happy to see me. We kissed and she kicked off her shoes and we lay back on the bed. What a day, what a day, she said. Her eyes were closed. I sat beside her and picked up her warm feet and held them and began rubbing them. Has it been a bad day for you? she asked. It's been relaxing, I said. I kissed her toe. I had a good day. I kissed her other toe. Well that's good. She sighed and I moved and kissed her lips and she hugged me and then kissed my cheek. Baby, I'm so tired. I'm just so tired. I watched her for a while. I watched her eyes and her face. And from outside in the hall I heard footsteps. I heard Stephanie walk past the door and then down the hallway and then close her door softly. Betty looked up at me and smiled. Come here, baby, she said and slid her hand underneath my bathrobe and held me. How are you? Mmmmmmm, she said and squeezed gently. You're fine as ever.

Now I like that. Yes. Here. Here. Take... Mmmmmm. I like that. Harder. Do it harder. Here. Mmmmmm. Are you a good boy? Is that what you are? Are you my good boy? Yes. Yes. Say it. Go ahead. I'm your good boy. Now take this foot. Take this foot. Yes. Thank you. Suck it. Suck it all. The toes. Suck it all. Mmmmmm. You're my good boy. Yes. Oh my yes. Gently. Work slowly. Yes. There. You like that? Huh? Yes. Yes. I like it.