All CFNM Stories: 2008-01-20

Saturday

The CFNM Brunch Society - Ch. 2

CLICK HERE FOR CFNM VIDS & PICS OF THIS TYPE OF SCENARIO!

Having crossed her Rubicon, Amy relaxed, snagged a pastry, and nearly groaned as the subtle hints of chocolate and almond flooded her mouth. She sipped her coffee, leaned back, and asked, "So. What's new with you?"

They chatted idly, pausing to refill their cups and, occasionally, lobbing a stray bit of pastry at Tom's ass. Pastry, however, proved difficult to aim. Changing weapons, Valerie delighted herself, and Amy, by scoring a direct hit on Tom's balls with a strawberry. After a while, Amy took pity on him. Snagging her fruit cup, she walked over and laid one hand on his ass. "Kneel up," she commanded, and took a strawberry from her cup. With a quick look and a grin at Valerie, Amy spread her legs slightly and maneuvered the strawberry under her short skirt. She had, in fact, foregone any panties, and it was a matter of moments to delicately stroke the berry over her pussy lips, still wet from her arousal. She made sure to coat the fruit as well as she could with her juices before withdrawing her hand and walking around in front of him.

"I've added a special—flavoring, just for you," she said. "No panties." Amy knew a secret delight as Tom's eyes grew wide. "Open." Popping the berry into his mouth, she watched as he rolled it this way and that, cheeks bulging as he tried to savor every drop of her nectar. Finally, he chewed and swallowed, the strong muscles of his neck working. "Good boy," she said, patting his cheek. "Head down, again." She trailed her fingers down his back and then gave his ass a few smacks as she left.

Returning to the table, she asked, "That was fun, but I feel like I'm leaving you out. What would you like to do next?"

Valerie glanced at her watch. "It's only ten, and I don't have to be at work in the mall until one. That gives us plenty of time, and I've got plenty of imagination. But, he's yours. What would you like to do with Mr. Studly? What would turn you on?"

Amy shivered. "Everything turns me on! I still can't believe I'm doing this, much less with you here."

"And I can't believe you only started yesterday. Where have you been hiding this new Amy?" She reached into her purse, withdrew a cigarette and elegant gold lighter. Amy realized there was no ashtray and started to rise. "Relax! Mr. Studly will be happy to fetch an ashtray, or anything else we want." She raised her voice. "Tom! Go into the kitchen and bring an ashtray from the drawer to the left of the fridge."

Amy watched with admiration as Tom rose gracefully, rocking back on his heels before rising without the use of his hands. "At once, Miss Valerie."

"No!" Valerie snapped. "Five minutes."

"As you wish, Miss Valerie." Tom bowed, and left.

"He seems... different, somehow." Amy couldn't quit put her finger on it, but found the change disturbing.

"He sees himself as being under discipline right now, Amy. His needs don't matter. Well, they do, of course, but right now he's totally fixated on serving." Valerie lit up, blew a long stream of smoke. "I might have to flick an ash or two on your patio, but he'll sweep it up. You know, I really wonder who trained him, and what happened."

"So... when he's—what did you call it? Under discipline? When he's under discipline he can't joke around, or lighten up? Not even laugh?"

"Of course he can, if he's given permission. You don't know anything about this stuff, do you?"

"Hardly anything," she confessed. "How come you know so much?"

Valerie laughed, a pure peal of delight. "Oh, hon, we all have our hidden sides. I've had a boy toy or two myself, and if Tom wasn't yours, I'd sure as hell think about having another one. He's very well trained. And gorgeous."

"You never told me!" Amy exclaimed indignantly.

"And how would you have reacted if I had? Until today, you seemed—forgive me, but you seemed awfully quiet and timid. Maybe a little naïve. This change in you is really impressive. And, having seen it, I have to wonder why haven't I ever met him before? I mean, you've known both of us for years, and you've hardly even mentioned him. Were you maybe keeping him for yourself?"

Amy fell silent. Had she been keeping Tom totally for herself? Was she afraid of competition from her girlfriends? And if so, why? After all, he had to meet dozens of attractive women at work, or out on the town. Abruptly, Amy realized that in the four years she'd known him, Tom had never talked about other women, had never even mentioned going out on dates. Had he been keeping himself for her? "I, uh... I think maybe I was." She told Valerie her thoughts, and then leaned forward to place a hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry! I never realized!"

Valerie patted her hand. "There's nothing to forgive, hon. I'm just glad you found each other and finally recognized what you have. The question is—are you going to keep him?"

Amy sputtered, "For Christ's sake, Valerie! He's not a pet! You don't just—keep—people! This is my friend we're talking about, here!"

Valerie drew back slightly. "Your friend... and a lot more, if you want. But, there's no need to rush things. It's not like you have to make up your mind right now, particularly since you don't know much about what you'd be getting into."

Amy hesitated, then admitted it was true. "So how do I learn?"

Valerie leaned forward eagerly. "I have a—suggestion—that might prove to be most instructive." She grinned, her eyes alight with pleasure.

***

Thirty minutes later, Amy drove through the enormous but completely deserted back parking lot of the OakCrest Mall. Following Valerie's instructions, she counted the nondescript beige metal doors from the west end and pulled into a parking space opposite the third. Valerie's car was nowhere to be seen; Amy experienced a moment's apprehension until she recalled that Valerie had to drive considerably further to pick up some "toys", as she called them, for this field trip.

"You take the Boy Wonder to the mall," she had said, "and I'll join you after I swing by my place. I've got some goodies—let's call them toys—that should make this little outing a lot more interesting."

Oddly, Valerie had insisted that Amy change from her sandals to sneakers; she had no idea why. Shrugging, she had complied. After a minute's hesitation, she decided to leave her panties off. Valerie had assured her that the mall's back hallway, used strictly for loading freight, would be completely deserted at that hour.

Beside her, Tom stirred restlessly. "You have any idea what Miss Valerie has in mind?" He sounded a bit gruff, not at all subservient, and Amy turned to look at him. His face was pale, and she saw frown lines. His fists were clenched where they rested on his thighs.

He was scared, she realized with a shock. Confident, nothing-fazes-me Tom was spooked. Her heart melted, and she reached over with her right hand to grasp one clenched fist. Reluctantly, it seemed, he let his fingers uncurl until she could hold his hand. "I don't have any idea, Tom," she said quietly. "But I promise you this; you've told me that you can't risk embarrassment or public exposure, and if either of us thinks this is a bad idea, we won't do it."

He stared rigidly straight ahead. "I... I don't want to disappoint you, is all."

Taken aback, Amy didn't know what to say. He was worried about her! Tears began to well, but she ruthlessly fought them back. Now was not the time. Not knowing where the words came from, she said, "This is about both of us, not just me. You want me to be happy, and I want you to be happy. We're reasonably smart people. I think we can find ways for both of us to get what we need. So, no, I won't be disappointed if you refuse. I would be disappointed if you went ahead with it when you know it's too risky."

He gusted a sigh, and his other fist unclenched. "When did you get so wise?" he said, turning to her with a faint trace of his old grin.

Impulsively, she leaned over and softly kissed him. When, after a heart-stopping moment, he responded, she snaked her free left hand into his lap and gently squeezed his bulge, barely hidden behind the shorts he had reluctantly donned when they left. He froze at her touch, and then he sighed into her mouth and began to swell in response.

Pulling away slightly, she whispered, "You're such a good boy." And was rewarded by the feeling of his cock growing to rigid attention. She gently eased down the elasticized waistband of his shorts, baring his cock to the air. Wrapping her hand firmly around his length, she stroked slowly, lovingly, hearing his breath catch as she drew each stroke out to the very tip. Within moments she detected the slipperiness of pre-cum and changed to swirling her fingers around his engorged head, spreading the lubrication until her touch glided over the soft skin.

"Please," he begged breathlessly. "Please."

Never before had Amy felt such incredible power, and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Please, what? May you cum? Is that what you want, Tom? Or do you want me to suck your cock? Take your entire length into my warm, wet mouth? Suck you dry? What do you want?" She squeezed the very tip of him, allowing her fingernails to gouge his tender flesh.

Tom bucked, straining against the seatbelt with his mouth widened in a silent scream. She immediately backed off the pressure, wondering if she'd gone too far. She needn't have worried; he collapsed in his seat and immediately started to thrust his cock, now iron-hard, against her hand. Grinning, she gripped him firmly and then leaned down. Sucking him deep, she reveled in the feeling of him sliding over her lips and tongue, in the absolute control of his sex. Despite his frantic efforts she kept the pace slow, raising her mouth from his straining cock, switching her grip to allow her left hand to cup his balls, slowly squeezing and releasing as her tongue swirled and dipped and teased and her right hand controlled his movements. Tonguing his slit, she dimly heard his breathing quicken, and hurriedly raised her head, allowing her hand to loosen until she barely grazed his straining cock and he thrust nearly at empty air. A wail of frustration escaped him, and she fought back a smile as she lifted her head to see his eyes screwed shut, a tear trickling down his cheek as his chest heaved

"So long," he whispered. "So damned long."

Startled, Amy wanted to ask what he meant but before she could speak, a cheerful voice through the open passenger window interrupted. "Well! I was going to suggest that we warm him up beforehand, but it looks like you've taken care of that!"

Not releasing Tom, Amy slowly raised her gaze. Valerie crouched by the side of the car, grinning like a madwoman, one hand on the door, the other out of sight.

"You couldn't have cleared your throat or something?"

Valerie let out full-throated, belly-shaking laugh. "What, and miss the show? I'm telling you, girl, you're a natural! Isn't she, boy?"

Tom slowly turned his tear-streaked face. "I believe you are correct, Miss Valerie." he said softly.

Amy was beginning to recognize in that stilted, formal tone. Why did he use it with Valerie, and not with her? Then she remembered the previous night when she had asked him whether he didn't want to cum, and his reply, ""I would never dare presume." She nearly grinned, but stifled it. Whatever Tom saw in Valerie, he saw in her as well. She was startled to recognize the beginnings of moisture between her nether lips; somehow, the knowledge that he viewed her as he did Valerie turned her on even more than sucking his beautiful cock.

Valerie raised her hidden hand into view, and Amy was shocked to see it glisten as she reached over and wiped it across Tom's lips. He responded like a hungry dog, eagerly licking and sucking her fingers as Valerie turned her hand over, making sure his tongue cleaned every surface. Had she been fingering herself while she watched? Amy found herself half-repelled, half-excited at the thought of providing Valerie with a show.

The worst thing was that she wasn't sure which bothered her more: feeling repelled or excited. She tightened her grasp on Tom's cock and stroked slowly.

Valerie's eyes grew wide, and she retracted her well-licked hand. Brightly, she asked, "Shall we go? We've only got about ninety minutes before people start showing up for work, but that'll be plenty of time if we get started now."

Releasing his balls, Amy leaned back but continued to hold Tom firmly. "Before we go any further, Val, what do you have in mind?"

Valerie displayed a devilish grin. "I thought a little excursion might be nice. The back hallway of the mall is only used by employees, and there's no freight stored there, so no video cameras. The system logs people in and out, but it'll just look like I showed up for work early. And I do own the boutique, after all, so no problem there."

Amy considered, pretended reluctance. "What if one of the guards comes around? We won't do anything that would put either of us at risk."

"They don't make rounds in the back hallway this close to opening. Anyway, the only one on duty right now is a friend of mine, and she'll be cool with whatever, trust me."

Amy released Tom's still-rigid cock. "What do you say? It's your ass that'll be naked in there."

Tom shuddered as her hand was withdrawn. Blowing out a huge sigh, he said, "I trust you. If you think this is a good thing to do, then let's do it."

She leaned over and softly kissed his cheek, simultaneously tugging his shorts back into place. Snagging her purse, she said firmly, "Then let's go."

After returning to her car, Valerie joined them at the steel door, a vinyl carrying bag in one hand. Like Amy, she'd switched to tennis shoes. Keying in a code on the touchpad, she swiped a card through the reader. As the lock released with an audible click, she swung the door wide and gestured them through. Although visibly nervous, Tom reached to hold the door and stood aside. "After you, ladies."

The hallway was nearly fifteen feet wide, surfaced with smooth gray concrete. At that hour, illumination was provided by scattered hanging light fixtures that cast bright pools of light but left shadowed areas between. Amy was startled at the length of the hallway; although she'd known, having shopped there many times, that the mall was huge, she hadn't expected a corridor that stretched for hundreds of yards, its end disappearing from view in the dim light. The back wall was festooned with electrical panels, conduit, and pipes; at various intervals along the other wall, locked doorways gave rear entrance to the stores.

"Tom," said Valerie, her voice echoing slightly in the emptiness, "I know that you're concerned about doing anything that could put your job at risk, so I brought something to make sure that you'll never be recognized." She reached into the bag and brought out a black leather hood. "Crouch a little. You're so damned tall." She stretched the hood over his head, maneuvering it to ensure that the holes lined up with his startled eyes. Carefully, she aligned the cutouts for his nose and mouth.

Amy was intrigued to see snaps riveted into the mask and wondered what they were for. Valerie pushed at Tom's shoulder until he turned around, and she briskly cinched up leather laces running through the back of the mask, drawing it snug. Spinning it around again, she asked brightly, "Comfy?"

Tom's eyes were wide. "Yes, Miss Valerie. Thank you."

"Excellent. OK, off with your shirt, please." And when Tom pulled his t-shirt off, she continued, "I'm in fashion, you know, and it's so important to accessorize. Fortunately, I have just what we need to complete your ensemble. Hold out your hands."

She pulled out heavy black leather cuffs, which she buckled around his wrists. A wide black leather belt, sporting a number of metal rings, was cinched around his waist, and she connected the cuffs' D-rings to it at his sides using quick-release clips. "Try to free yourself." When he struggled and failed, she smiled broadly. "Perfect! We're almost ready. Just two finishing touches."

Reaching again into the bag, she brought out another piece of leather. She handed it to Amy and asked, "Would you do the honors?"

Curious, Amy examined it. A rectangular piece about three inches high by four wide, it had snaps that matched those next to Tom's mouth. Turning it over, she saw that something wide but fairly short projected from one side; startled, she recognized it as a stubby dildo, exquisitely modeled as a cock. Then it hit her. "A gag?"

"Of course! It's what all the best submissives are wearing this season."

Grinning, Amy brought the gag close to Tom's mouth. "Open," she said shortly, and gently slid the dildo into place. Struggling a bit, she managed to secure all four snaps. "Can he breathe around that?"

Valerie shrugged. "Ask him."

"Tom? Are you OK?"

"Ehh, Mmm Meee."

She interpreted this as, Yes, Miss Amy, and was reassured. Stepping back, she considered him. "You know, that's a good look for you. I might have to get something like it." To Valerie, she said, "But something's still missing."

"Oh, of course! Forgive me." And with that, Valerie snapped a blindfold into place on the mask, hiding Tom's startled eyes. "Now's, that's perfect! Oh, but Tom..." She reached over and jerked his shorts to his ankles in one swift movement; a slight push to his chest made him step backwards involuntarily, and she leaned down and snatched them from the floor. "Those shorts really don't go with the outfit. And that t-shirt was hideous; good thing we got rid of that, too. Don't you think so, Tom?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. Bemused, Amy studied him: hooded, gagged, blindfolded, helpless—and rock-hard. She felt her own arousal, her nipples hardening, moisture between her legs. She leaned over to Valerie and whispered in her ear, as softly as she could, "This is SO fucking hot!"

Nodding, her eyes bright, Valerie whispered back, "I know! And now the real fun begins! Remember, he can't see anything!"

"That's right!" Silently (so that was why Valerie had insisted on sneakers!), Amy stepped behind Tom. Without warning, she stabbed her nails into his right butt cheek. He jerked, bucked once, and then spread his legs wide. She reached around him, knowing that he had no idea whose hands were on him, and seized both nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She twisted, pinched, and rolled those tiny nubs without mercy. His entire body went rigid, but otherwise he remained immobile. She snaked one hand down between his legs and grabbed his balls; continuing to torment his nipple, she squeezed slowly, carefully, until his knees buckled slightly and the faintest mewling sound emerged from behind the gag.

Amy felt a deep sense of satisfaction, of rightness, in having him totally at her mercy, completely under her control. She felt a trickle of moisture high on one thigh. Without thinking, she reached under her skirt and wiped it away. Moving back to face Tom, she carefully held her fingers just below his nostrils, tormenting him with the aroma of her juices. She saw his chest heave, and his entire body shook.

Suddenly, Valerie reached out and gently grasped her wrist, pulling it away. Startled, Amy turned to face her and was shocked when Valerie gave a knowing wink and slowly bent her head to take Amy's fingers in her mouth, tongue working softly as she licked. For a second, something flared inside, white-hot and nearly blinding, and Amy found her breathing ragged, her whole body aching with need. She snatched her hand away.

Valerie leaned over to whisper, "Easy, hon. You're not a lesbian. You're just incredibly horny from the power, right?" At Amy's nod, Valerie continued, "Then let's go play with your boy. Get his flip-flops. We want him absolutely naked except for the hood and belt."

To be continued...

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Thursday

The CFNM Brunch Society - Ch. 1

CLICK HERE FOR CFNM VIDS & PICS OF THIS TYPE OF SCENARIO!

Amy had never seen Tom glowering before, but he was now.

Standing in her entryway with his arms crossed over his gray t-shirt, he fixed her with a withering stare and said, "Tell me again. Slowly. Everything."

She drew in a deep breath and tried to order her whirling thoughts. "OK... I was lying in bed last night after, uh..." She tried not to blush. "After you left. And I was thinking about how much you like being naked in front of women, and how the girls are coming over this morning, and it just seemed like a perfect fit, you know? I mean, how they could have this gorgeous guy serve them naked... while he's naked, I mean, not them, and how this gorgeous guy could get off on being naked in front of four women, and hard, and how much I'd get off on having my gorgeous friend naked and hard and serving my friends, and—"

"Stop. Tell me what you actually did." If anything, Tom looked even more pissed.

"I...called the girls and told them that I could have a drop-dead gorgeous naked man serve us brunch."

He slowly uncrossed his arms, his fists clenching. "And you didn't think to ask me first. You never thought that I might have something to say about it."

Amy didn't know how to react to Tom being upset with her; in all the years of their friendship, he'd unfailingly been both kind and patient with her catastrophes, self-doubts and crises. That he was glaring at her told her she might have done something really wrong this time. She felt tears begin to well up, and desperately wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, to run into her bedroom and slam the door on him. Knowing that she might have wronged him, though, she seized her flagging courage, drew herself up and looked him square in the eyes.

"No," she admitted quietly. "I took your friendship for granted. I had no right to do that, and I'm truly sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

Without a word, Tom brushed by her and headed for the sofa. Her nerve broke, and she hurried after him, crying. "I'm sorry! I really am!" And stopped, suddenly speechless.

He was pulling off his t-shirt. As she watched, mouth agape, he folded it neatly and laid it on the arm of the sofa. He kicked off his flip-flops, slid his shorts down over his slim hips without having to unfasten them, and turned to face her, naked and grinning. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Amy could feel her mouth working but no sound emerged. Finally, she threw herself at him, fists flailing against his bare chest. "Ooh, you...bastard! You were just playing me!"

He caught her hands effortlessly, still grinning. "That'll teach you not to take me for granted!"

She sobered immediately. "Tom, I really am sorry."

He released her hands and caught her up in a gentle hug. "It's OK, hon. I just have to be careful about going naked in front of people I don't know. If this got back to my work, I could find myself pounding the pavements, and I really don't want that."

Amy pushed herself free and sat on the sofa, looking up at him. "I see. I know these girls, and I trust them, but you don't know them at all." He was slightly hard, she noticed idly, and stifled a grin. "Come here, would you?"

Tom arched an eyebrow, but silently moved to stand just in front of her knees. She reached out and gently cupped his smooth balls. "I absolutely promise never to volunteer your services without checking with you first. OK?" At his nod, she continued, "But for giving me such a fright..." She squeezed suddenly, and Tom's knees buckled slightly as he groaned. Her other hand wrapped his shaft, stroked; in a matter of seconds he sported a raging erection. "Don't ever do that to me again, buster!"

"Or what?" he asked softly.

She considered. "Well, maybe this..." Her tongue flicked out, laved the sensitive underside of his cockhead. "Or this..." She slid her hand from his balls to his perineum, gently massaging it before continuing on to press at the entrance to his asshole. She slid just the tip inward, resulting in a great inrush of breath and another groan. Satisfied, she released him, stood up and headed for the bedroom. Over her shoulder, she tossed back, "Or maybe none of them, ever again."

"Where are you going?" His voice was hoarse.

Amy stopped in the doorway, turned, and noted with pride how his straining cock bobbed in time with his heartbeat. "To change my panties, of course," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh." As she began to close the bedroom door, he said, "Amy? Leave them off, would you? I like the idea of you being naked underneath while your friends are here."

She considered briefly, then winked at him. "We'll just have to see, won't we?" And quietly closed the door.

Thirty minutes later the first—and as it turned out, only—guest arrived. Amy opened the door and threw her arms around Valerie, her oldest and dearest friend, who was dressed to kill in a diaphanous white blouse over a shockingly short black skirt. Patent leather fuck-me pumps completed the outfit.

Hug completed, Amy pushed Valerie to arms' length and regarded her outfit. "A little dressy for just brunch at home, don't you think?"

"You should talk, missy." Valerie gave Amy the once-over in return. Amy was acutely conscious of her tight tank top—sans bra—over a barely-legal tan skirt. She wore no hose, and her bare feet were revealed by strappy sandals. "Looks like we both decided to make this a special occasion."

Amy felt a blush beginning and ruthlessly pushed it down. "Wait until you meet him. He's worth it, believe me. Where are the others?"

Valerie's face fell. "They can't make it. Jill is tied up with something for church, and Bev has a sick kid. I guess it's just us. But, hey," she added brightly, "that means we get wonder boy all to ourselves!"

Amy laughed, but felt a flicker of disappointment. For herself, or for Tom? She wasn't sure, but remembered how his face had lit up at the prospect of serving four women while naked. She hoped that he would still enjoy himself with just two, but... Ruthlessly, she pushed the thought away. He had certainly enjoyed himself with just her. Two had to be at least twice as much fun. "Come on in, and let's get this party started."

Obediently, Valerie followed her but stopped abruptly in the living room. "I have GOT to pee before I meet Mr. Studly. Be right back." She disappeared into the bathroom but immediately popped back out, an expression of wonder on her face. "You have live-in maid service now? I've never SEEN such a clean bathroom!"

Amy smiled, a satisfied Cheshire grin. "I owe it all to Mr. Studly the Wonder Boy."

Valerie's eyes got wide. "Oh. My. God. You've gotta tell me everything." The door closed behind her.

Laughing, Amy entered the kitchen, where she was treated to the sight of Tom, one bare foot on her kitchen counter, trying to reach a pitcher on top of the cabinet. Her breath caught at what the position did for his already tight buns, and how his cock and balls swung in time with his movements. For a moment, she considered reaching out to cup him, but contented herself with watching. Finally, he stretched far enough to snag the handle. With both feet firmly on the floor, he turned and caught her licking her lips.

"Thirsty?"

"Or something, yes." She moved closer. "I've got good news and bad news, I'm afraid."

He searched her eyes. "Tell me the bad news."

"Two of the girls have had to cancel for this morning. Valerie's the only one who could make it. You'll meet her in a minute."

Relief lit his face. "That's the bad news? Tell me the good news."

"Put the pitcher down." She moved closer and reached out, one hand gently seizing his dangling cock, the other coming up to tweak a nipple. Over his inrush of breath, she said, "The good news is that the two of us will just work twice as hard to make this memorable for you." He was beginning to respond to her stroking, his cock swelling in her hand. She pulled gently with the hand still twisting his nipple and guided him with pressure on his semi-rigid cock until he backed into the corner of the base cabinets. "Hop up." With her hand still firmly stroking him, he eased his cheeks over the edges. "Good boy," she said softly. "Now put your feet on there, too." Back firmly against the top cabinets, he drew his legs up. "Heels wide apart. Spread 'em, boy. One leg along either counter." He was limber enough to rest each leg comfortably; the position put his legs 90 degrees apart.

Amy stepped back and considered. He was perfectly exposed, his balls dangling nicely over the vee where the cabinets met, and his cock rose and fell with each heartbeat. Still, something was missing. "Put your hands under your ass." He rocked slightly, slipping them beneath his bare cheeks on the Formica. No, that wasn't it. "Lace your fingers behind your neck." And when he complied, his elbows going back against the upper cabinets, she caught her breath. He was perfectly vulnerable. Perfectly delicious.

Now, she was thirsty. Turning away, she found a glass, began filling it from the water dispenser in the refrigerator door. Seized by a sudden idea, she quickly calculated the angles and the length of her skirt, and pulled the glass out. "This thing seems to be running slowly," she muttered, but made certain he could hear. Carefully balancing the glass, she stepped back, toward him but slightly to the side, and bent forward from the waist to peer at the water dispenser. She could feel the back of her skirt slide up her bare legs, and grinned fiercely as she heard a soft groan come from behind her. "Can't see anything wrong. Maybe you can look at it later." Straightening, she turned to find his cock pointing nearly straight upward; lifting her gaze, she discovered that he was breathing hard.

"Did you like what you saw?" She idly sipped her water while she waited for him to answer.

"Very much, yes." His voice was hoarse. "You left your panties off."

"Did I? Or was that a thong? Hmm. How will you ever know for sure?" She stepped forward and held the glass to his lips, tilted it. As will happen the first time two people try such a thing, some dribbled out and ran down his chest. Pulling the glass away, she leaned forward and trailed her tongue along his chest, lapping up the tiny rivulet but making a detour to tease, nibble, lick and torment a nipple. She bit down slightly, both heard and felt his gasp, and felt a trickle of moisture between her legs.

Without warning, clapping came from behind her. She spun around to see Valerie leaning on the doorjamb, face flushed, nipples up, and beating her hands together for all she was worth.

"Damn, girl! I never would have suspected. You're just full of surprises!" She stopped applauding, strode forward to stand with one hip brushing against Tom's leg. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" Her eyes hungrily drank in Tom's straining cock, his swollen balls, and finally tracked upward to his face.

"Valerie, this is Tom. Tom, this is Miss Valerie." Amy was astonished by how normal and unstrained her voice sounded, even having been caught licking the chest of a hugely erect naked man sitting on her kitchen counter.

"I'm most pleased to meet you, Miss Valerie." If anything, he sounded hoarser than before.

Valerie laughed. "And I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you, Tom. All of you. Looks like I was right to name you Mister Studly." She deliberately tracked her gaze downward, then slowly back up again. "Under the circumstances, let's dispense with shaking hands. I find I like you just as you are." She stepped closer, reached out. "Of course, that doesn't mean we can't shake." Turning to Amy, she raised an eyebrow in question.

Stifling a grin, Amy replied solemnly, "Of course. What's mine is yours." She watched, fascinated, as Valerie wrapped her fingers around Tom's straining cock and pulled it forward and down.

"I find that the art of shaking has been eroded over the years, don't you, Tom?" Valerie was gently, slowly, working his cock up and down and stroking. "People nowadays just crudely, uh, pump away, don't they? I mean, in the old days, a man would gently hold a woman's hand—" She stopped stroking him but continued to speak as she slowly bent forward. "Then gracefully bow, and place the lightest of kisses"—her tongue snaked out and barely flicked the tip of his pre-cum covered cock—"just so." Rising with an absolutely straight face, still holding him, her other hand reached beneath, gently cupped his balls. "Of course, a gentleman who was truly smitten might use both hands." She squeezed, slowly, steadily, increasing the pressure.

Tom sat rigidly, eyes tightly shut, body shaking. Eventually, he seemed to realize that some response was required and after several tries and much throat-clearing, managed to reply, "I would have to agree, Miss Valerie. And may I say what a pleasure it is to find a woman who understands these things."

Valerie released him, stepped back. "Amy, you're right. He is quite a find."

She was surprised to find a streak of—was it jealousy? possessiveness?—rising up, but told herself firmly that she didn't own Tom. And, she had invited Valerie and the others to share. "I think so, too. But I did invite you for brunch. Would you like some coffee? And we've got the best pastries from Antoine's."

"That would be marvelous, hon. I bet the patio is just wonderful right now. Shall we?"

"We shall." To Tom, Amy said, "We'll take brunch on the patio. Unless you and the counter would prefer to continue your relationship, of course."

Tom stared at her, eyes wide, as if he saw her for the first time. "Of course, Miss Amy. Brunch served on the patio, at once." He gently lowered himself to the floor, and Amy drank in the sight of his throbbing cock nearly upright against his belly, pre-cum still glistening at the tip. Mentally shaking herself out of her fascination, she led Valerie through the living room and onto the patio.

"Where in the hell did you find him?" Valerie asked once they were comfortably seated beside a circular glass-top table.

"We've been friends for years. And then, last night, something—something happened." Amy described the entire sequence of events, from first seeing Tom nude while he cleaned her bathtub, to his revelation that he loved being naked in front of women, to her first fumbling attempts at, for the first time in her life, holding and using power. As if from a great distance, she listened to herself as she described requiring Tom to bare every inch of his flesh, even his asshole, how she had squeezed and stroked his cock and balls, had paddled his ass and swatted his cock, and how this very morning she had sucked that same cock while violating his ass with her finger. She listened and marveled at how she'd changed in a mere 18 hours. The woman she had been would never have spoken like that, much less done those things.

And now her nipples were hard from just talking about it. She'd changed, and she liked the new person she'd become.

Amy fell silent as Tom bore a heavily laden tray onto the patio, which he deposited on the table opposite them. Avoiding eye contact, he unfolded linen napkins (which appeared to be ironed, Amy marveled—when had he found time to do that?) and carefully draped each of their laps. His cock, only slightly diminished by lack of attention, continued to bob before him as he moved, at times less than a foot from her lips. She was treated to glimpses of his ass cheeks as he turned slightly, and only just stopped herself from reaching out to sink her nails into the tender flesh. He unloaded a thermal carafe, cream and sugar containers, small china plates, cups and saucers, silver flatware, cups of mixed fruits, and pastries carefully arranged on a serving plate. That done, he stood with his hands clasped behind him, nearly a "Parade Rest" position, one nipple still faintly reddened from her teeth, and simply... waited, his cock swelling under their combined gaze.

All the men Amy had known would have been demanding release, a hand job, a blow job, a fuck. But not Tom. Sucked and stroked, tormented and teased, hard and aching, Tom still asked for nothing, was content to wait knowing that she would use him again for her pleasure, and his.

This is mine, Amy realized. Mine if I want it. And found she could not speak.

Valerie seemed to recognize her problem. "Tom, fetch a broom and sweep off an area four feet on a side, right there." She pointed to a spot on the edge of the patio that was within easy viewing of them both. "Then fetch three bath towels."

He drew himself to attention. "Yes, Miss Valerie."

After he left, Valerie poured coffee for them both, then turned to her. "Who trained him?"

"What?"

"Who trained him? Who was his Mistress before?"

Amy shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She added cream and a bit of sugar, stirred.

Valerie sighed, exasperated, and leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. "You really don't know what you've got here, do you? Hon, he's been trained to be a submissive, to serve flawlessly, and to tolerate pain. That's not something a guy does by himself. Some woman took him in hand and molded him to be what she wanted."

Amy found herself resenting the phrase, "Took him in hand" but decided not to mention it. "I don't know. I thought—well, I guess I thought that this is just the way he is."

Valerie emitted a most unladylike snort. "Not a chance, believe me. Everything he's done for you, and for so little in return—"

"It didn't seem like 'so little' to me!" Amy protested.

"You've barely scratched the surface, Amy. There's so much more, if you want it."

The uncanny echo of Amy's earlier thought sent her mind whirling. While she struggled with her confusion, Tom returned and efficiently swept the designated area clean, then departed, presumably to bring the towels. He was still hard, she noted, fondly watching his ass cheeks as he walked. "Why didn't he just bring everything in one trip?" she wondered aloud.

Valerie sipped at her own coffee, then replied, "He's doing exactly what I told him to do—no more, and no less. What does that tell you?"

"He HAS been trained!" she exclaimed. "Fuck me!"

Valerie laughed. "That, too, and much more, hon. I can tell."

Tom must have parked the towels just inside the door, because he abruptly returned, neatly folded towels in his arms, to stand on the spot he'd just swept. "Good," said Valerie. "Unfold one completely and lay it with the narrow end towards us. Then use the other two, folded, to cover it." In a matter of moments, it was done, and Valerie asked, "How do you want him, Amy?"

She had the sense of something momentous looming toward her, that the decision she made, the next words she spoke, would determine her course, and perhaps Tom's, for years to come. She didn't know if she was ready to make that decision, or for the responsibility that she instinctively knew would accompany it. Then she saw Tom, waiting, trusting her, and her mind was made up. She would not let this get away.

Frightened but determined, shivering, but not knowing why, she said, "Hands and knees, facing away from us. Head down on your hands, ass in the air. Knees spread." He complied immediately, the position allowing a clear view of his ass, balls and cock, delightfully contrasted with the vibrant green of her lawn and the riotous color of a flower bed.

Valerie laughed, delighted. "One of my very favorite positions. You're a natural."

To be continued...

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Tuesday

Reader-Submitted Story: The Physicals

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Healing Love Cfnm Style, Chps. 3-End

When I started posting this story, I got caught up in it so much that I didn't realize how off-topic from CFNM it ends up going. So, since this blog is strictly devoted to only Cfnm stories, I won't be posting the last 2 chapters of the story. HOWEVER, I'm making it available for download on Your File Host in text file (.txt) format. So, if you'd like to read the non-Cfnm ending (which includes ALOT of exhibitionism, sex & group sex), CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SMALL FILE FOR FREE. Let me know if ya liked it too!

Scroll down for previous chapters to this story as well as a NEW reader submitted story!

Sunday

Healing Love Cfnm Style, Ch. 2

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We managed to get through the rest of the day and that night, but I still didn't get to sleep in my own bed. Without the pain-killer that the hospital had given Matt, sleeping was almost impossible for him. I stayed awake as much as I could, forcing him to stay on his back whenever he tried to roll onto his right side. When the sun came up, I was exhausted.
I climbed out of Matt's bed and dressed in a bathing suit and robe before I woke him.

In the shower, as I removed my robe, Matt saw my bathing suit and smiled, "I thought you said we had to throw modesty out the window for a while?"

"We did -- yours! I'm the boss and I get to wear a bathing suit. Especially after getting soaked last time."

Matt and I both shared a silence, no doubt because of the double meaning of my statement. Not only had I gotten wet from the shower splashback, but Matt had definitely added his juices to the problem. I turned red and quickly started up the shower to break the uncomfortable moment.

As the shower progressed, Matt became hard again. After washing his genitals, the skin on his eight-inch penis was taut and was glowing pink. I was stuck about what to do. Part of me wanted to turn the shower off and dress him, while the other part sympathized with his predicament.

Without saying anything to Maatty about my thoughts, I grabbed one of my moisturizing lotions and began rubbing it on his chest.

"This should feel good, and it will keep your skin from drying out."

Looking only at my hands, I rubbed more on his thighs and then, finally, his penis. The lotion was warm and slippery and Matt began ejaculating almost immediately. Again, huge amounts came spurting everywhere. Again, as if it was magnetically drawn to my tits, the majority of it landed there. I waited for him to finish, watching the huge spurts of cum splattering against my bikini top and exposed flesh. I was mesmerized watching him shoot, almost in slo-mo as the heavy wads took flight and landed on me. I was amazed at how much he could produce and how far it launched, hotly landing on my skin. But I couldn't dwell on it long as I didn't feel right about it, so I quickly rinsed him off. An uncomfortable silence washed over both of us.

After I had dressed him, I showered and that was the last thing I remembered until I felt Matt shaking me and almost yelling, "Hey! Hey! It's the phone. Dr. Fox is on the phone and wants to talk to you!"

I woke up and realized that I was lying on my back on my bed, stark naked, with my wet towel still in my hand and my feet still on the floor. I had fallen asleep as I was drying myself after my shower!

Matt was standing next to the bed, shaking my arm and shoulder with his foot, and watching my jiggling breasts with his eyes. His pajamas had an obvious tent at his crotch. He was getting an eyeful of his naked adoptive mother, and seemed to be really enjoying it!

"How did you answer the phone?"

"Speakerphone."

"Oh, yeah. Matt? You can stop shaking me, now. I'm awake."

"Oh, sorry!"

I stood and slipped on a robe to take the call. When I got downstairs, I asked Matt if he was hungry.

"Starving! But you needed the sleep. What did Dr. Fox want?"

"Well, he wanted to see how you were doing, which was nice, but very surprising for an Emergency Room doctor, and even more surprising, he asked me out to dinner, sometime."

Matt smiled, "I'm not surprised. In the hospital, he wanted to know all about you. If you were married or divorced and if you dated much. He told me that he thought you were really hot looking."

"Oh? And what did you say?"

"I agreed and said I thought you were really hot looking, too."

"Matt!"

"Well, it's true! All my friends think so, too. Why do you think Ryan and Todd always hang over here at our pool all Summer?"

I knew I was in pretty good shape for 33, but I never thought of myself as flaming the fires of pubescent masturbatory fantasies. Brown hair (still with no gray!), large blue eyes and good skin, I knew I was (at the very least) pretty. With the help of aerobics and my exercycle, my body was still holding up pretty well, too. I knew men liked looking at (and playing with!) my large, round breasts (34D) and great legs, but I was also proud of my flat stomach, firm ass, and small, tight waist. Sure, I could admit I was attractive, but I didn't go out of my way to make a big deal out of it. Now, I was embarrassed thinking that I was the subject of teenaged boys' comments! No wonder they liked spending the summer around our pool in the yard!

The next day was Monday, and I called Matt's school. Since Matt had been injured playing a school sport and there were only a few weeks left in the school year, the Headmaster offered to let Matt miss the remainder of the year, and take his current marks (one "B" and the rest "A's") for his final grades. I agreed and thanked him for his time and understanding. As for my class of third graders, I had a ton of vacation saved up, so I called my school and they said they would obtain a substitute teacher for my classes until I returned or the school year ended.

On Monday and Tuesday, Matt's big erections quickly yielded to my pseudo hand- jobs in the shower. On Wednesday, however, he was still hard and throbbing in my hand well after I applied the lotion on his skin. If I rubbed him any more, it would be obvious that I was intentionally jerking him off, rather than him just ejaculating as a result of me washing or "oiling" him. I was again in a quandary and didn't know what to do. I decided that I should just leave well enough alone.

"Okay, time to rinse off"

"Uh...? Uh...do you think...ah... Never mind."

"Would you like me to rub you a little more, Matt?"

"It's more like needing it. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I'd gladly do it myself, if I could."

I filled my hands with more lotion and began rubbing them along the length of his eight-inch erection. The skin was warm and smooth and felt wonderful in my hands. I squeezed his rod as my hand slipped along its length, and I cupped his tight balls in my other hand. "I understand, Matt. Don't be embarrassed. Every man in the world masturbates. Do you do it every day?"

Matt's whole body blushed a bright red as he answered, "Yeah. At least two times, usually more, before this happened."

"Wow, okay, well, just relax, now. I think I'm almost done."

Just then, Matt exploded with his orgasm, shooting his cum the length of my arms, splashing four large strands of it it on the cleavage showing above my swimsuit. He saw that and his body jerked out of my hand and he almost fell. I grabbed him and sat him on the side of the tub.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I just never had one that strong before!"

"Yeah, you really shot hard that time!"

And that became our routine. We didn't talk about it, we just did it. Every morning in the shower, I would give my adopted son a hand-job. Every time I ended up with at least some of it on my breasts, or neck, twice it actually landing on my face as well. I couldn't really try to hide what I was doing, nor could he-- we both instinctively knew, but said nothing about it. It was like an unspoken treaty we'd brokered that would have to be broken if we acknowledged it was really happening.

On Thursday, we got a call from Allen, Matt's adoptive father. He decided to fly in and see Matt for the weekend. I also got a call from Dr. Fox. He offered to stop by on Saturday and check Matt's progress and asked if he could take me to dinner. Since Allen was going to be here and could babysit Matt, I accepted his offer.

I met Allen at the airport and he was as friendly as ever. I saw him checking me out as he approached and I quickly turned my cheek as he bent down to kiss me.

"Jessica! You're more beautiful than ever! How have you been?"

"Just fine, Allen. I see you still like to throw the bull." I have to admit that when I was 18 years old and a freshman in college, I was totally and absolutely taken by Allen's smooth charm. Ten years older than me, he was a broker on the fast track and I think my youth and looks appealed to him in a "trophy" sort of way. We were married and I was pregnant before either one of us had really thought about it. Of course, the wonderful thing was that we had Matt -- the only success Allen and I had in our almost-twelve years together. I finished college and started to teach. Allen stayed on the fast track, making the mega-bucks he was hungry for, but also spending a lot of it on wine, women, clubs, and cocaine. I tried to hang in there, but finally gave up. Typical of Allen, he ran away with another woman -- to California. He sent us a big check every month and saw Matt for a few weeks in the summer, but they were more like buddies than adoptive father and son, and that was all there was to his commitment. He was a successful, charming, shallow man with an addiction problem.

He stared at my legs as I drove him back to the house, and at my body in obvious stares for the rest of the evening, so I really wasn't surprised when he knocked on my bedroom door that night. I was sitting up, reading when he opened the door.

"Dating anyone, Jessie?"

"I'm seeing someone, but it's not the real thing or anything."

He moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "Is he keeping you happy? Meeting all your needs?"

"Allen, I'm not going to fuck you, if that's what you're leading up to. Why complicate the perfect relationship we've finally worked out after all these years?" I said sarcastically.

"Okay, but you can't fault a guy for trying. How about, if we're not going to get physical, you at least give me a look at your goodies? You're so fucking beautiful and sexy! No touchies -- I promise!"

I laughed and swung at him with my book, "Get out of here, you prick! You're incorrigible!"

Allen got a little edge to his voice -- somewhere between anger and a whine. "Come on, Jessie! It's not like it would be the first time, or anything. You're not a goddamn virgin! All that money I send you every month ought to buy me some privileges."

Now I was angry. "Allen, that's gross! The money that you send doesn't hurt you a bit and it buys your son the house and school and lifestyle he's had all his life. I'm not your hooker and it doesn't buy my body, you asshole!"

Allen shook his head and walked out of the room, wearing a major pout and slamming the door. His problem was that I had seen that pout too many times in the past.

On Saturday, I woke Matt and dressed him in a pair of swimtrunks. Without either of us saying a word, he understood. We were just finishing his shower when Allen walked into the bathroom and dried Matt.

Early in the evening, Dr. Donald Fox arrived and examined Matt, declaring his recovery satisfactory and then whisking me out to his car for dinner. We ate in a small restaurant in Little Italy, and then toured a few clubs, looking for a band we could dance to. It was after 1:00 a.m. when we got home.

Out of sheer reflex, I invited Donald in and he accepted. Declining a coffee, we sat on the sofa and chatted for a few minutes, until he pulled me close to him and kissed me. His tongue pushed into my mouth, spreading my lips and teeth open, finding my tongue. We kissed for a while, and as his mouth worked down to my neck, his hand rose to my breast and he gently cupped my tit through my blouse and bra. It soon progressed into a full make-out session, and contrary to my normal habit, I permitted it continue, until Donald opened his zipper and placed my hand on his hot, pulsing cock.

Normally, I would have stopped well before this point, but I was feeling particularly naughty. Maybe it was because it was our first date. Maybe it was because my very pissed-off ex-husband was in the house as it was happening. And -- although I wasn't ready to deal with the significance of it -- maybe it was because it had been a while for me and Matt wasn't the only one getting turned on in the shower every morning.

Instead of stopping, I opened my blouse and unclasped my bra and placed Donald's hand on my naked breast. As he began to squeeze my nipple between his fingers, I moaned and lowered my mouth down over his cock, sucking him between my lips.

We were both hot and went totally with the passion (or maybe it was just lust) we were feeling. But as my lips slurped up and down Donald's rigid pole, I heard something. Without stopping, I glanced up at the doorway and saw Matt standing back in the shadows, watching his adoptive mother give a sloppy blow-job to her date!

I couldn't believe my horrendous luck! The first time I ever did anything like that in the house since my divorce, and I was caught! But at the same time I was feeling guilty, I was also getting even more excited.

Donald's breathing quickened and he soon tensed and came into my mouth, some of his cum dripping down my chin to drop on my cleavage. As much as I wanted to continue and feel my own orgasm, I felt that Matt had spied on quite enough for the evening, so I sat up and rebuttoned my blouse. I walked Donald to the door and kissed him goodnight as he promised to call me.

Still angry with Matt for spying, but still turned on and needing some release, I went to bed and buried my fingers in my pussy, squeezing my nipple and clit between my fingers. Smelling my own wetness and still tasting Donald's salty cum on my lips, I slammed into an intense orgasm, moaning my passion through my clenched teeth as I bit into my pillow to muffle my screams. I released my clit and fell asleep almost immediately.

By the time I woke up on Sunday, Allen had had made breakfast. We sat at the table and I couldn't look Matt in the eye. I don't think he could look straight at me, either. Allen explained that he was going to have a very busy Summer, and maybe next Christmas week would be better for Matt's trip out West. Matt agreed and soon after that, Allen left in a cab for the airport and his flight back to California.

Matt and I spent a very quiet and tense Sunday together.

On Monday morning, when I went in to wake Matt, I found him already awake.

"Hey, I'm sorry for what I did the other night. I know you saw me and I know it was wrong."

"Yes, you're damned right it was wrong, Matt! How could you do that to me? I think I deserve a little more privacy than that."

"Well, I was just going to get something to drink in the kitchen, and I saw the two of you kissing, and I couldn't stop looking. I'm sorry and it will never happen again."

I calmed down a little as I realized part of my anger was addressed at myself, for getting so excited when I saw my adopted son watching me. I wondered if I even put a little extra enthusiasm in my show for my secret audience, Saturday night as I tried my best to deepthroat him. It seemed that our relationship was getting a little blurred at the edges since Matt's injuries.

"It's okay, I guess. I saw you watching. I could have stopped. I SHOULD have stopped. Do you even know what was going on?"

"Oh, jeeeeze! What kind of dweeb do you think I am? You were giving Dr. Fox head...er...oral sex."

"Yes, we called it a blow-job in my day. Uh, h-have you ever had one?"

Matt blushed and looked down at his toes. "No, but...No."

"But what, Matt?"

"Well, at our graduation party from eighth grade, Becky Stone got pretty drunk and said she wanted to do every guy at the party like that. She did do almost everybody, but she passed out before it was my turn. Some of the other guys and I tried to wake her, but she was OUT!"

I laughed at the thought of these horny, desperate boys and their attempts at reviving the unconscious girl. Becky Stone also reminded me of myself when I had been her about her age! But alot had changed for me since then, I thought.

"Matt, it's no big deal. You'll soon have your turn."

"The way Dr. Fox was acting -- he sure made it look like a big deal."

"Well, you have all the time in the world. And everything will come in its own time. Come on, let's shower."

As usual, Matt was extremely erect as I washed him. As I was sitting on the edge of the tub, Matt's erection was almost eye-level. I poured lotion in my hands and he turned his eight-inch penis towards me. Only this time, instead of applying the lotion, I leaned my head forward and sucked my adopted son's raging, hot hard-on into my wet mouth. I just thoughtlessly went for it.

He moaned as his taut skin rubbed over my lips and teeth and tongue, and I cupped the twin globes of his ass in my hands, forcing him deeper into my mouth, filling the crevice between his cheeks with my oiled fingers, seeking his anus, finding it, stroking it with a slippery finger, feeling him explode in my mouth, swallowing his warm goo, still sucking, feeling him begin to soften and then harden, again. It wasn't until my jaw ached with the stretching it had to do to accomodate such a big cock that I became aware of what I'd just done. I'd actually sucked the dick of my adopted son!

To be continued...

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