Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories


Gentle Hands

Canadian Tease

All Rights Reserved



Anita was up early. She didn't have to be at work until late afternoon, but she wanted to get some shopping done downtown. By getting an early start she wouldn't have to rush, and could take her time browsing and just generally relaxing.

She was dressed very casually in jeans and a modest jersey. She could change later for work with the clothes she had packed into her shoulder bag. It wasn't much, and she had decided she didn't need to lug her large carry-all along today.

She went to the window and looked out. The day was bright and sunny, and she spread the curtains wide and opened the window to let in the fresh air. The fountain in the courtyard below sparkled in the early sun, and patrons were sipping coffee and reading their morning papers at the outdoor tables of the Cafe au Coin. Madame Fleury, the owner of the cafe, was chatting with her customers as she passed among them with carafes of coffee and hot milk. She was a pleasant woman of about forty, energetic and outgoing, and she bustled from table to table, efficient but never missing the opportunity to flirt with men who appreciated her buxom figure. She was also Anita's landlady, who owned with her husband the trio of two-story apartment buildings that surrounded the courtyard. It was a quaint, old-world arrangement of buildings, forming a horseshoe around the cobblestone courtyard with its garden and central fountain. The cafe was at the corner of the courtyard and the street it opened out onto. Anita liked Therese Fleury, and she liked living in this neighborhood. It was more French than the rest of the city, and although a bit inconvenient to downtown, it possessed a sensual charm and unhurried approach to life that appealed to Anita.

Below in the courtyard a boy was riding his bicycle in a circle around the fountain. Anita recognized Pierre, Madame Fleury's young son, who lived with his parents in the apartment directly across the courtyard from Anita. Anita looked at him for a moment, then turned and went to her closet. She took from it a strapless yellow sundress with a pattern of small blue flowers, which she laid on her bed while she removed her jeans and jersey, stuffing them into her shoulder bag. She removed her brassiere and put on the dress, then, after examining herself briefly in the full-length mirror on her closet door, she left the apartment and headed down to the cafe.

Emerging from the apartment building entrance at the back of the courtyard, she walked toward Pierre, who was standing straddling his bicycle next to the fountain.

"Good morning, Pierre!" she said brightly as she walked to him, flashing a brilliant smile.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Anita," he replied, smiling shyly as she walked past him. When she had taken a few steps toward the street she stopped and half turned, raising her hands to shade her eyes as she gazed at the sky.

"What a beautiful day!" she exclaimed. The morning sun was still low in the sky, and its light was shining directly into the courtyard. Anita was between Pierre and the sun, and her tousled blond hair shone like an aura of molten gold around her pretty face. The light was streaming through the thin dress, illuminating her in profile. With her arms lifted her breasts were clearly discernable in silhouette, large, firm globes that curved upward to delicate nipples pressing against the front of the dress. The illuminating sunlight revealed that she wasn't wearing anything under the dress, except for tight panties that clung low on her hips. Their decoration of small pink hearts was faintly visible.

She turned to look at the boy, her hands still lifted and shielding her eyes. "Aren't you enjoying this sun, Pierre, after all the rain we've had? I just love it, don't you?"

It took him a moment to respond. "O...oui, Mademoiselle," he murmured, lifting his eyes to her face. He was blushing furiously.

"Well, time for breakfast," she said, turning back towards the cafe. "Have a wonderful day, Pierre!" she called over her shoulder as she walked away from him. His eyes followed her as she left him, graceful hips swaying slowly from side to side with her easy gait. Her panties, clinging tightly to her firm derriere, made a small triangle where the sun shone through between her thighs at the top of long, shapely legs.

Most of the morning crowd had left when Anita sat down at a small table. Madam Fleury arrived almost immediately with the cafe au lait and croissant that Anita always ordered.

"Bonjour, Anita!" she greeted, sitting down at the table. "It is early for you, no?"

"Hi, Therese," said Anita. "Yeah, I'm going downtown to do a little shopping this morning. It's such a nice day, I'll enjoy walking around." She crossed her legs and took a nibble of the croissant.

Therese leaned to the side and peered around the table at Anita. "Oo la la, with a dress like that I think that maybe you will have a lot of attention when you walk," she said, wrinkling her nose and grinning playfully. "The men love such dresses."

Anita laughed. "Well, that's OK with me. They can look all they want."

"Oui, as long as they only look!" cautioned Therese. "You be careful where you walk, chérie. You must take care, n'est-ce pas?"

Anita looked down at her legs, which because of the shortness of her dress were exposed almost to the top of her thighs. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Pierre was still watching her as he stood with his bicycle in the courtyard.

"Oh yes, I'm careful," she assured. "But I'm not terribly worried. Most men are like little boys: they just like to play with you and with their toys."

Therese threw her head back and laughed long and loud.

"Ah oui, c'est vrai!" she cried. "So true--my Daniel, he is never so happy as when he is playing with my toys!" She looked down at her ample breasts and squeezed them, lifting them high as she laughed. "...Except when I am playing with his!"

Anita almost choked on her coffee. It was a long time before the women stopped giggling.

"Speaking of your husband," Anita said finally, "where is he? I almost never see him."

"Eh bien, he is traveling, always traveling on business. It is not only you who never sees him." Therese looked off into the distance.

"I'm sorry," said Anita. "It must be lonely for you."

"Ah, oui," admitted Therese, "it is sometimes, but one finds other...entertainments."

"Entertainments?" Anita questioned.

Therese looked wryly at her. "How does one say in English? Pas des questions, pas des mensonges...?"

"Ah," said Anita. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

"Exacte!" exclaimed Therese. "The world has many toys."

Anita smiled. "Speaking of little boys," she said, "your Pierre is a delightful child, so polite."

Therese beamed. "Ah yes, he is my treasure. But he grows up so quickly, I wish he would remain my bébé."

"How old is he?" Anita asked, sipping her coffee.

"Twelve--oh, mais non! He has a birthday next week; he will be thirteen."

"Really! He's becoming a little man," Anita said.

"Yes," replied Therese, lowering her voice, "and in more ways than one. I learn from the laundry that he is discovering new things about himself... Tu comprends?"

"Oh yes, I understand!" said Anita. "But that's only natural, and healthy."

"Oh oui, d'accord!" said Therese quickly, "I agree, I am glad he has learned to please himself, to know a man's pleasure."

"And I imagine he's starting to get interested in the girls at school now," Anita remarked.

Therese smiled. "Oh yes, but you must know, chérie, that he has a big, how do you say, a big crush on you, too!" She lowered her voice, "I hope it does not make you uncomfortable to know this?"

Anita laughed. "Oh, that's so sweet! No, of course I'm not uncomfortable about that. Besides, I knew it already; little boys or big boys can't hide secrets like that from naughty girls like us!"

Therese nodded and grinned. "Ah, mon chér Pierre! He is very smart, you know. He is going to be a scientist, I think. He is so interested in things out there," she waved her hand at the sky, "les 'toiles, the stars, l'astronomie. He reads books, and he is always looking from his window up at the moon. I don't know where he gets his wise head, not from me, certainement! But my Daniel, he is smart, too."

Anita listened with interest.

"But you too are smart, Anita," Therese went on, "studying at the university, learning to be a...a psychic. You have been there for many years, no?"

"A psychologist," corrected Anita, smiling. "Yes, I'm in graduate school now, and it does seem that I've been there forever."

"Your classes begin again soon, n'est-ce pas? The summer is almost over."

"Yes, I'll be leaving my summer job soon, after I visit my family in the country this weekend."

"Ah oui, ah oui. Tell me Anita, your summer never told me what you do."

Anita looked down into her coffee cup as she drained it, and then stood up. She regarded Therese with a playful smile.

"'Ask me no questions...'" she said, her voice trailing off.

Therese looked at her blankly for a moment, and then burst into laughter once again.

"Ah oui, touché, touché," she said with a sigh. "We are both Mesdames Mysterieuses, eh?"

"Yes," said Anita softly as they embraced and kissed cheeks, "mysterious ladies indeed." Taking up her shoulder bag she started up the street towards the bus stop. Walking toward the boulevard she became aware of Pierre, who was tagging along with her on his bicycle.

"Mademoiselle, is it true what my Maman says, that you are going to school?" he asked.

"Yes, Pierre," she said. "I study at the University."

" you like to go to school, even now when you're a...a grown-up?"

"I do, yes," she grinned at him. "It's fun learning new things. Don't you enjoy school? Your mother tells me you're very smart."

He made a face. "I don't like it so much. It's OK, I guess." He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "When you go back to school, will you go away, and not live near us anymore?"

They had reached the boulevard, and the bus was just pulling up. Anita smiled at him and reached over to brush a lock of his wind-blown hair from his brow.

"No, I'm not going to move," she said. "I like living across the courtyard from you and your mother. I expect that you'll be seeing a lot more of me."

He beamed as she began to ascend the steps into the bus.

"I'm glad you're not going away," he called out.

She turned and smiled as she waved good-bye to him over her shoulder. He watched her as she climbed the steps in her short sundress until the door closed and the bus pulled away from the curb. Then he slowly pedaled back home.


* * * * *


Gentle Hands owed its great success to location, location, location. It was set in a small side street just around the corner from Sex d'Argent, one of the city's most notorious strip-clubs, known for its extraordinarily beautiful girls and their seductive dances. Patrons who left the Sex d'Argent after hours of being excited and teased by those girls were often led by their unsatisfied lust around the corner, where Gentle Hands awaited them to relieve their frustrations, or to excite them further.

For Gentle Hands was a massage parlor, and for men who had just been driven to near madness by sexual tease, its allure was irresistible. Here they were assured that their tormented erections would receive tender loving care. The two establishments complemented each other nicely: men out for a night of striptease were often happy to find by chance a place around the corner where girls were waiting to please them, while other men used Sex d'Argent solely to become aroused and primed for a visit to Gentle Hands.

Anita had been working here during her summer break from university. She had started as a dancer at Sex d'Argent, and so had developed deep insights into the erotic obsessions of men, especially the sexually frustrated men who frequented the club. Francois, who owned both Sex d'Argent and Gentle Hands, was quick to recognize her talents, and offered her an open-ended job at the massage parlor, where she had a room permanently reserved to her, and was free to work according to her own schedule as she saw fit. He was rewarded with a growing clientele of men who became addicted to her--they came ever more frequently to the club, and then to Gentle Hands afterwards, with a growing sexual hunger that tormented them but was never satisfied. Sex d'Argent and Gentle Hands had them, quite literally, coming and going.

Anita never permitted these men to have intercourse with her, although she would often lead them on in thinking they might. Her job was to create needs and desires for what was always held just out of reach. They received exquisite pleasures from her hands, and sometimes her lips and tongue, but always done in such a way that it somehow increased their need for more. Even after explosive orgasms, when they were at home in bed alone or with their sleeping wives, they would soon be experiencing that insistent nagging between their legs, a need for more of the tantalizing tease Anita had subjected them to.

After spending the morning and better part of the afternoon shopping, Anita arrived at Gentle Hands in late afternoon. Most of the activity at Sex d'Argent and the parlor took place at night, of course, but those who sought out Anita would often arrive shortly after they left work. In all likelihood they would have been thinking about her all day as they fondled themselves under their desks, living for the moment when they could hurry to Gentle Hands to find her, or, failing in this, go into Sex d'Argent to work up their excitement to fever pitch before trying once again to get time with her. Actually, Anita purposely did not stick to any fixed schedule--she preferred to keep her customers off-balance and frequently disappointed. This added to the urgency of the unsatisfied lust they experienced when they watched the stripteases and to the intensity of their orgasms under her gentle touch if they were ever lucky enough to get time with her. Or of their frustration if she decided she was in the mood to deny them.

Entering through a backdoor, she walked down the corridor of rooms where most of the girls worked and let Erica, the busty receptionist, know that she was in and would be ready for clients in five minutes. Then she climbed the narrow staircase that led to her suite of two rooms. She thought about leaving on the sundress she had been wearing all day, since it had drawn a considerable amount of attention from the horny teenagers and dirty old men who hung around at the mall where she had gone shopping. But she decided instead to change into a more "professional" outfit: pulling her hair back into an efficient ponytail, she put on a white nurse's smock that extended down her thighs about a third of the way to her knees, and white stockings held up by a white garter belt. Because of the shortness of her skirt the tops of her stockings were exposed, and the top four buttons of the smock were open. She wore no brassiere, so her ample cleavage beckoned enticingly.

The room Anita used to entertain her customers was not at all sterile, as is often the case in such establishments. Aside from the professional massage table in the center, it was warm and intimate. The lighting was indirect, from a pair of floor lamps, and several oriental throw rugs were scattered about the wooden floor. There was a table and a couch against one wall, and on the opposite side of the room two comfortable chairs were arranged for easy conversation, with a small coffee table between them. Anita always offered her guests a glass of wine as they chatted, especially at the start of a first visit. This relaxed them, and gave her a chance to get to know them and what they needed from her. It didn't take her long to understand a man's sexual desires, and what his erotic triggers were. She was very good at reading body language, and between the lines of conversation.

After about ten minutes a chime rang indicating that Erica was sending a customer up, a new client. He would have already paid the base rate for a straight massage to Erica; for any "extras," he would have to tip Anita directly. She went into the back room to wait for him. This was always part of her routine: she wanted a man to sit in her cozy room waiting for her, letting his anticipation build. Then, when she greeted him, she wanted him to be seated; he would be forced to look up at her, at her voluptuous body and provocative outfit; at the same time, her position above him would subtly underscore the fact that she was the one in control.

When she heard the man enter the other room, she called to him to sit down, that she'd be with him in a moment. After about two minutes she went in to greet him. He started to rise, but she told him not to get up and went over to introduce herself. Smiling brightly, she leaned over to pour wine for the two of them, giving him an enticing view between her breasts in the process, then sat down to chat. He was Will, she learned--or that at least was the name he gave. He appeared to be about forty, of average build and height, dressed in a business suit, though without his tie, and was distinctly nervous to be there talking with her. But she managed to put him at his ease, smiling warmly at him, and encouraging him to relax and sip his wine. She pretended to drink along with him, but in fact took very little. Finally she addressed business.

"So, Will, have you just been next door?" she asked, running a fingertip around the lip of her wineglass. He glanced at her briefly, and then looked down somewhat guiltily, blushing slightly.

"Uh, yeah, I was there for a little while," he stammered. "I saw a card on the table" There were cards advertising Gentle Hands on each table in Sex d'Argent.

"So now you need a little relaxation, right?" Anita said brightly, putting her glass down on the coffee table. "A nice massage to work out the kinks after a long day at work?"

"Uh, yes, that would be real nice," he replied a little uncertainly. He was obviously inexperienced in what to expect.

"Good," she said, standing up. "I'm going into the other room to get my oils. While I'm gone you can get undressed, and then lie down on the table. You can cover yourself up, if you like," she said, indicating a towel that was lying on the table.

She went next door, returning in about a minute with a bottle of scented oil. Will had undressed as instructed, and was lying face down on the table, with the towel covering the lower part of this body.

"OK," she said briskly, "let's see what we can do about those tight muscles." Starting at his shoulders, she began to work his neck muscles and deltoids with strong, deft hands. Anita was actually a skilled massage therapist, having taken courses in the art, and her customers were often surprised at how relaxing and pleasurable sessions with her were, even without the "extras." Although it was those extras that kept them coming back, time after time.

After thoroughly working Will's back and arms, down the backs of his legs from his buttocks (still covered) down his thighs and calves to his feet, she had him turn over and worked on his pectorals. Finally, she went to the foot of the table and kneaded the balls of his feet and each of his toes. When she had finished with this, she laid her hands gently on his shins and slowly moved up the front of his legs. She noticed that the towel had started to lift slightly over his groin, although she had not spent any time in that area. Her hands continued to move upwards, finally coming to rest at the top of his thighs, with her fingertips extending a fraction of an inch under the towel.

"There," she said, "all done. Did you enjoy that?" Her hands remained resting on his legs.

"Oh, yes," he sighed. "That felt really nice."

Anita moistened her lips and looked into his eyes. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do for you?" she asked softly. Her full lips were parted slightly, and her fingertips remained just under the towel, idly moving from side to side.

His breathing grew noticeably shallower. "Yes," he stammered, "I...yes, please..."

Anita smiled seductively down at him, and began to pull the towel lower, very slowly, pulling the soft fabric down along the bulge in his groin that was now tenting upwards.

"Let's have a look at this, shall we?" she said, pulling the towel aside to reveal his straining erection. His penis was of average size, but was lengthening steadily and already projecting upward at a forty-five degree angle. She studied it for a moment, noting the light pink color of its swollen head, and the somewhat darker shade of the shaft. It was circumcised and strongly veined, and was visibly throbbing as it continued to grow under her gaze: each beat of his heart caused it to bob slightly, moving up and down a fraction of an inch, tremulous. His scrotum was slightly wrinkled, enclosing two large testicles, but was becoming smoother as it tightened with his mounting excitement. The pubic hair was fine and light brown, and covered his scrotum and the base of his penis, forming a feathery circle from which his smooth, hardening phallus emerged. The glans was now thoroughly engorged and glistening.

She pursed her lips into an "O" and frowned, while she ran her fingertips gently up along his inner thighs.

"Oh my!" she said, looking up and down the length of his erection. "Those girls next door really teased you, didn't they? They've gotten you so excited! I'll bet they made you want to fuck them real bad, didn't they? Those nasty girls! Getting your cock so excited and hard when you couldn't do anything about it. ...So frustrating." Her hand was now gently fondling his testicles. "Is that why you've come to me?" she asked softly. "Would you like me to continue where they left off?" A single finger traced a tantalizing line up the underside of his stiff penis. "Do you like it when a girl teases your cock?"

"Y...yes... Ohhh." Will was breathing harder now, almost panting, and his heart must have been racing. He clearly wanted her to touch him badly.

"This will cost you more, you know," she informed him gently, with a little pout. Her finger continued to move along his shaft, light as a feather. "If you're good to me, I'll be very good to you..."

Will swallowed and licked his dry lips. "Yes, I know," he responded, looking towards the chair where his pants lay folded.

Anita smiled and went over to the chair and retrieved his wallet from his pants. Reaching into it she withdrew a fifty dollar bill; she paused, and then took out a second fifty. She looked over to him and raised her eyebrows in a question. Will swallowed again, and nodded. Placing the two fifties on the coffee table, Anita smiled and moved slowly back to him. Her hands reached up to loosen the ponytail, and her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders. She undid another button on her smock, so that her breasts were now almost completely exposed.

"Thank you," she said. "Now I want to show you how grateful I am..."

Placing her hand under Will's quivering penis, she cradled it gently in her palm while the single finger resumed its exploration of the underside of the rigid shaft.

"Ohhh, you need this so much, don't you?" she purred. "You need someone to be nice to your big hard cock, someone to touch you. ...Like this..." Fingertips enclosed his shaft and lightly drew up over the head, making tantalizingly brief contact with his most sensitive areas. He moaned loudly and raised his hips in a vain attempt to prolong contact with her hand.

Anita smiled at his obvious need. She intended to make it much worse.

Reaching down between his legs she slowly drew her fingers up to his scrotum, gently scratching in slow circles all around his testicles. While she manipulated his balls with four fingertips, her thumb reached up and lightly flicked the cleft below the head from side to side. She moved her hand slowly up and down, the pads of her fingers pleasuring several of his most sensitive areas simultaneously. Continuing to tease his balls with her fingernails, she brought her other hand into play, delicately feathering the underside of his erection along its entire length, very lightly, at a maddeningly slow pace. She kept her touch light, just enough to tease him along and make him desperately need more. His urgent whimpering told her she was succeeding in that.

"Mmmmm, we're going to have such a nice time together," she whispered. "Does this feel good? Do you like what I'm doing to your big, warm cock? I love how it feels in my hands, and I love doing this to you. ...I'm going to give you so much pleasure, and it's going to last for a long, long time. But first, we have to make you really need it..."

What followed was an hour of erotic torment that drove him nearly mad. Anita's special talent was to probe and test a man's genitals to determine his most sensitive areas of pleasure, and then to single-mindedly harry and worry him in those places, but in such a tantalizing way that it was always just short of what he needed for release. With her hands, and her lips and tongue, she coaxed and toyed and teased, never giving his enflamed cock a moment's respite. Her tongue flicked lightly and incessantly in rapid little licks on his sweet pleasure spots, taunting him, showing him she knew just where he was most vulnerable, showing him that she could, if she chose, send him into a delirious orgasm with just a single swirl of her tongue which, of course, she never did. Whenever she sensed that he was reaching the helpless point of no return she would stop abruptly, and watch dispassionately as his hips bucked and he groaned in dismay at the sudden removal of pleasure. She would pout and coo sympathetically at his frustration, while she gently and soothingly caressed him, inches from his throbbing penis. Then, when his erection had almost completely subsided, the maddening cycle would begin again: cock-teasing to the very brink of orgasm, then cruel withdrawal, repeated over and over again. She held him in an agony of sexual frustration, deaf to his pleading and whimpering. She was relentless and totally without mercy.

It was very satisfying to Anita to use the need for pleasure to make men suffer like this. She found it fascinating that something as exquisite as sexual pleasure could be used to cause such agonizing distress. She didn't dislike these men; she just enjoyed teasing and tormenting them, it was as simple as that. It was true that she thought about these men and how they reacted to what she did to them in the context of her psychological studies at school, the courses she'd taken on physical and emotional dependence, in particular. But her interest in psychology was not what caused her to take such enjoyment in manipulating men's sexual desires; if anything, it was the other way around. She had always enjoyed using her sexuality to get men excited and to tease them; what was it about men, some men at any rate, that led them to crave this, and even pay money to have it done to them? That was something worth studying, she felt; and who knows, maybe she'd learn something that she could use to increase their sexual need still more, something that might drive them closer to erotic madness. She knew that these men came to her because they craved what she did to them, but if she could make them truly addicted, and unable to do without her, that would be even better. Better for business, of course, but also better because the distress and agony caused by her little games of tease and denial would be more excruciatingly intense. And that excited her.

After nearly an hour of exquisite sexual tease, Anita decided that is was time to finish him off, not because she wanted to have mercy on him, but because his time was up. She reached for the bottle of massage oil and poured a small pool of it into the palm of her right hand, then rubbed her hands together to make them both slippery. Will's cock was by now deep purple in color, and painfully engorged and rigid. Anita grasped it in her left hand and drew slowly down from the head to the base in one squeezing stroke. Holding it immobile and stretched taut, she placed the palm of her right hand flat against the glistening bulbous head and began to rub her palm in circles all over the sensitive surface of the glans. The almost unbearable intensity of sensation that this produced caused Will to curl his toes and shiver. When he was at the point of crying out in real distress, her hand slid down from the head to grasp the shaft just below. She held it still for a moment, allowing him relief from the over-stimulation she had just inflicted on him. Then slowly, very slowly, she began to twist her hand back and forth, rotating her grasp on his penis just below the head, simultaneously massaging the area of sweet pleasure below the cleft, and the rim of the glans she had just been torturing. That torment had been deliberate, for it had enflamed every nerve in his genitals, and his entire body was now raging in response to the motion of her hand, every stroke and twist driving his throbbing cock mad with mounting pleasure, as she slowly and irresistibly masturbated him to an explosive climax. He cried out and writhed in ecstasy and relief as his swollen prick erupted in huge ejaculations that sent his sperm shooting three feet into the air. As the penis bucked and spurted, Anita pumped and stroked it with both hands, lavishing on it the voluptuous erotic pleasure it had been denied for the past hour. His semen flowed copiously down his cock and over her hands, and she used it as additional lubrication while she skillfully milked him, timing her squeezes and strokes to match the rhythm of his spasms. When his exhausted penis had finally completed its throes, and his cries had subsided into soft whimpers, Anita gently cleaned him with a soft cloth she had readied for the purpose. She smiled to herself as she tended to him; this, she knew, would be a repeat customer.


* * * * *


It was about eleven o'clock when Anita arrived home that night. The deserted courtyard was quiet as she crossed through it to the entrance to her building. Light shone from a single window in the facade across from her apartment--the Fleurys were still up, evidently.

When she entered her apartment she tossed her shoulder bag onto a chair to be dealt with in the morning. Tonight she just wanted to shower and go to bed. She stood in front of her mirror for a half a minute, appraising the sundress that she had put on again before leaving Gentle Hands. Perhaps I should wear this at work sometime, she thought. Fresh, virginal--that might strike a chord with her clientele. Maybe, we'll see.

Looking to the side she noticed that the curtains on the window facing the courtyard remained apart from when she had opened them in the morning. She walked to the window and looked out into the night. The light in the Fleury apartment had gone out, and the courtyard was lit now only by moonlight. As she gazed absently into the darkness, she reached under her dress to remove her panties, lowering them to her feet and kicking them to the side. The dress was secured at the top by two thin straps which tied at the shoulder. She untied each of these, and the dress would have fallen completely off had the bodice not been stopped by the swell of her breasts. She yawned and stretched, then stood for a few moments with one hand idly massaging the back of her neck while the other caressed a hip. The dress began to slip further down, and she reached up to close the curtains. Fifteen minutes later, after a quick shower, she was in bed.


* * * * *


The next day was another fine one, and she was up early, busying herself for the holiday with her family in the country. It was to be at the rather large rustic compound belonging to her Uncle Jack. She was looking forward to seeing her parents and her sister Michelle; Jack was another matter, but she could put up with him for a couple of days.

When she was ready to leave she went to the open window and looked out. Across the courtyard she saw Pierre moving about in his bedroom through the window opposite hers. His window was open, too, and she called out to him.

"Bonjour, Pierre!" she cried, waving to him. "Ca va?"

Pierre came to his window and leaned out.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Anita!" he replied, smiling shyly. "Oui, ca va bien."

"Listen, Pierre," Anita went on, "I'm leaving on holiday in a moment, but I have something for you. Meet me in the cafe in a moment, OK?"

"Oui, d'accord!" Pierre responded brightly, and disappeared.

Anita closed the window and curtains, then gathered up her travel bags and headed down to the cafe. Pierre was there waiting for her. She smiled and shook his hand in greeting. Then, reaching into a plastic shopping bag she carried, she produced a long package, wrapped in gift paper and a ribbon.

"Joyeux anniversaire!" she exclaimed, handing him the package.

" birthday?" he replied in surprise. "But it's not until next week!"

"Oh, Pierre!" Anita said, putting her hands on her hips in mock exasperation. "It's only in a couple of days, and I may be away then. Go ahead, open it!"

Pierre grinned happily, and eagerly began to unwrap the gift. Opening the long box, he withdrew a metal tube, almost a meter long.

"It's a telescope!" he said in amazement, looking up at Anita in open-mouthed wonder. " did you know that I ..."

"Your Maman told me about your interest in the stars," Anita interjected. "The man at the store said you can see stars and craters on the moon with this. He even said you can see the moons of Jupiter, although I really don't know what that is."

Pierre held the telescope to his eye and looked up and down the street, then pulled the instruction manual from the box.

"I'm going to go and read all about it now!" he said excitedly. "Merci, merci beaucoup, Mademoiselle Anita! This is so cool!"

"You're welcome, Pierre," Anita said gently. "I really hope you enjoy it." He grinned happily and ran back into the cafe to head for his room.

Madame Fleury had been watching as she served tables. She went to Anita as Pierre ran by her.

"Anita, you didn't have to do that! You will spoil the boy!" She shook her head and wagged a finger at Anita.

"Oh, don't be silly, Therese," Anita responded, "it makes me happy to do it. I think it's important to encourage a young boy's interests, don't you?"

"Well, thank you, chérie, it was very sweet of you. He will love you even more than before!"

Anita smiled and embraced Madame Fleury, kissing her on each cheek.

"Well, I'm off!" she announced, and took up her travel bags. "I should be back in a couple of days."

"Bonnes vacances, chérie," Madame Fleury called, as Anita headed for the bus that would take her to the railway station.


* * * * *


Anita's Uncle Jack was married to her mother's younger sister Abigail. No one could understand how they had wound up together as a couple, since they were as different as night and day. Abigail was small and delicate, and very reserved. Jack, on the other hand, was outgoing and aggressive. He was a large man, with a substantial belly, which provoked speculation as to just how Abigail was able to survive in his bed. Anita and her older sister Michelle often giggled together as girls, wondering why Aunt Abby wasn't pressed flat as a pancake, or torn apart when Jack snorted and rooted around on top of her. They hadn't had children, and it was well known that Jack had an eye for the ladies, especially the younger ones. So, Anita and Michelle had decided early on, there probably wasn't much activity to speak of in Uncle Jack and Aunt Abby's bed; in other words, Jack didn't get much at home, and probably found his pleasures elsewhere.

This holiday was to be a family reunion at a woods camp that Jack owned, on the edge of a large Provincial Park. It consisted of a large log house and two guest outbuildings, surrounding by fifty acres of woods. Jack had bought it as a vacation home, and to entertain business associates, at least those who enjoyed fishing as much as he did.

Anita was met at the railway station by Michelle. They had been very close as girls, and the half-hour ride to the camp gave them an opportunity to catch up, and talk about old times.

"So, who's arrived so far?" Anita asked.

"Mom and Dad are there," answered Michelle, "and the cousins. Oh, and Auntie Abby too, of course."

"How about Jack?"

"Oh, he won't be there until tomorrow. He was delayed by some business in the city."

"Right," said Anita sardonically, "business. Some business between a slut's legs, I bet!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised," Michelle laughed. "Poor Auntie Abby, I don't think she gets any attention from that jerk. I feel bad for her."

"I know," agreed Anita, "me too. God knows why she's stayed with him for so long. Roof over her head, I suppose. Well, it's her life. Guess she's found some way to deal with it. Probably involving batteries."

Michelle made a face. "You're bad, Anita! Not everyone's a sex fiend like you!"

Anita laughed. "Well, I don't think she's getting any action from him. He probably saves his stuff for sweet young things. He always was a dirty old man; and we should know!"

Michelle nodded. "Remember how he used to come into our room at night when we came here, when we were kids? That used to scare the shit out of me! We probably should've told Mom about it."

"Oh, I don't know," Anita said, yawning. "It wasn't such a big deal. He was too chicken-shit to really do anything. Telling Mom would've just blown the whole family apart. And we wouldn't have been able to come out here for vacations anymore!"

"Jesus, Anita, you really are terrible! Is that all it meant to you? That pig had his hands all over you before you were even a teenager! God!"

Anita shrugged. "He never got what he really wanted, not enough anyway. I made sure of that."

"Yeah," said Michelle, "I remember those little games you used to play. He never got anywhere with me because I'd scrunch up in a ball under the covers and pretend I was asleep whenever we heard him coming--no fun at all. But you! God, the way you'd get yourself posed 'in your sleep,' with the covers off and wearing nothing but panties, your arms thrown back and your little tits sticking up, sucking your thumb--sucking your thumb, for God's sake! I could see him by the night-light, tip-toeing over to you, looking you up and down while he stood over you, all heavy breathing. Do you know he actually jerked off sometimes when he was looking at you?"

"Of course I knew," Anita laughed. "That was the whole point. To get him hot and bothered when he couldn't do anything about it."

Michelle sighed. "Did you ever think, Anita, that maybe you made things worse for Auntie Abby by getting him excited like that? That maybe his lust for you caused him to ignore her?"

Anita frowned and shook her head. "No, he was a pig long before we came along. I don't take responsibility for how he treated Aunt Abigail, or for his drooling over little girls. I just made sure he was punished for it, that's all. Besides," she went on, "I wouldn't be surprised if Aunty Abby got more action when we were around than when we weren't; nothing like a couple of sexy little Lolita's to get him going!"

Michelle shook her head and laughed. "Same old Anita," she said. "Well, let's enjoy this weekend, anyway. All that's in the past now, right?"

Anita smiled and looked out her window. "Sure," she said. "Maybe."


* * * * *


The next day Anita and Michelle decided to take some wine down to the stream and sunbathe while their cousins were off antiquing. A path led from the house through the woods to a secluded, grassy clearing on the banks of a rushing brook, where their Uncle Jack liked to go trout-fishing. It was a sunny area, ideal for picnicking or just sunbathing.

The girls spread a large blanket on the grass and lay down next to each other and chatted. The weather was warm, and they luxuriated in the bright sunshine. Michelle had worn her bathing suit, and she removed the top to work on her "lineless" tan. Anita had on a light Indian-print cotton skirt that came down almost to her ankles, and a white spaghetti-strap t-shirt. She was lying on her stomach and had pulled the skirt up over her bottom, exposing her bikini panties and the backs of her legs to the sun as she and her sister talked and laughed together.

After about a half hour they heard a voice calling to them as someone came down the path.

"Well, here comes Jack," Michelle groaned. "Guess the peace and quiet was too good to last." She reached for her bikini top and got it on just as Jack appeared in the clearing, but not before he got an eyeful of her tanned, naked breasts.

"How're my favorite nieces," he said, rubbing his hands together as he came toward them. "Don't worry about getting yourself decent. After all, we're all just family here!"

Michelle didn't say anything and looked at him rather sourly, but Anita jumped up and ran to greet him, clapping her hands in delight.

"Hi, Uncle Jack!" she said brightly, giving him a hug and pressing her breasts against him. "Gee, it's so good to see you after so long!" She stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, while Michelle stared in disbelief, shaking her head.

Anita put her arm around his waist, holding him close against her, and led him to the blanket. He beamed at her as they walked, and reached down to give a lingering pat on her bottom. She just grinned at him and wrinkled her nose.

"Come have some wine with us, Jack," she said. "We were just talking about you!"

"All good, I hope," he said, easing himself down onto one end of the blanket.

"Of course!" Anita chirped. "We were just wondering when you were going to finally come and see us. It's great being out here at the camp and all, but it's no fun without naughty Uncle Jack!"

Jack beamed with pleasure, basking in the attention he was getting from Anita. Michelle just rolled her eyes and looked away.

They chatted for a while about what each of them had been up to since they last saw each other, which had actually been a couple of years. Jack was stretched out and reclining on his elbow on one side of the blanket, while the girls sat at the other end. Anita had pulled her knees up and was resting her chin on them, with her arms clasping her legs as she listened to Jack. The hem of her skirt was just below her knees and hung loosely to the sides, giving Jack a clear view under her skirt of the bottom of her thighs, all the way from her bent knees down to where white panties peeked out from under her bottom. After a while she shifted her position, leaving her right knee up, but extending her left leg out to the side. The hem of her skirt now formed a triangular window, clearly exposing her sheer bikini panties, stretched tightly across her crotch as she sat with her legs apart. She seemed not to notice as she chatted away, but Jack's face was flushed and his eyes were glued between her legs as he unconsciously licked his lips.

Jack finally managed to pull his eyes away from Anita's crotch, and said hoarsely, "Ah, so, Anita, I hear you've been working in a massage parlor. Great job for a pretty girl like you!"

Anita's eyes opened a bit wider. "Oh!" she said. "Well, yes, it's just a summer job. I'm working as a massage therapist. But I have to quit soon since school is starting up again."

"Therapist," he said hesitantly. "So you just give...massages?"

"Yes," she replied, "therapeutic massages. I took a course and I have a license and everything! I like helping people. Getting out muscle kinks and aches and pains and all that."

Jack thought for a moment, then sat up and stretched.

"Well," he said, "how would you feel about giving your old Uncle Jack a sample? My back's been hurting lately--tight muscles from work stress and all."

Anita regarded him with a level stare for a few moments. Then she said brightly, "Well, sure, Uncle Jack! Why not? I'd be glad to!" She jumped up and looked down at him. "So, just take off your shirt and get comfortable face down on the blanket."

Michelle got up and replaced her bottle of suntan lotion in her tote bag. "Well," she said, "I think I'll head back up to the house. Guess I'll see you at dinner later."

"Hold on a sec, Mickey," Anita said. She ran up to her sister and whispered something in her ear, while Jack removed his Hawaiian shirt and grunted back down onto the blanket. Michelle then turned and disappeared up the path to the main house.

Anita returned to the blanket and looked down at Jack. He was wearing blue boxer-style swim trunks, and he had arranged himself on the blanket with his elbows projecting to the sides, and his head turned with a cheek resting on the backs of his hands. His legs were fairly muscular and pale, although the rest of him was out of shape and plump. His back was very hairy.

"OK," said Anita as she stepped onto the blanket, kneeling on either side of him as she straddled his back, preparing to go to work. "Let's see what we can do about poor old Uncle Jack. Gee, you're furry!" she giggled.

She started as she usually did, working on the muscles of his neck and arms, then working down his back on either side of his spine. As she began to manipulate the lateral muscles along his sides she lowered herself until she was sitting on him, her legs straddling his rump. She moved lower to knead his buttocks through his bathing suit, moving to the side and tightly straddling one of his legs as she worked. She then shifted to the other side, similarly mounting the other leg. He could feel the warmth between her legs as she straddled him, and he had to shift his weight a bit to accommodate the erection that was starting to press against the blanket under him.

Eventually she worked her way down to his feet, and she raised herself up onto her knees, kneeling as she massaged the muscles of his legs. She worked on each leg separately, moving upwards from his feet and massaging vigorously with her fingertips until she reached the top of a thigh. She had gotten him to spread his legs a bit more, and as she continued to work the muscles on the back and side of his leg with one hand, the fingers of the other reached just under his swimsuit and lightly brushed up and down along his inner thigh, millimeters from his netting-encased testicles. He shifted his position again, as his erection grew larger.

"OK," Anita said finally, "all done on this side. Now flip yourself over."

Jack complied, trying surreptitiously to smooth out the bulge at his crotch as he lay back down on his back. He was not very successful in this, and his erection was obvious, struggling to tent upwards against the constraints of the netting inside his trunks. Anita paid it no notice as she kneeled next to him, waiting for him to adjust himself.

"Whew!" she said, "it sure is hot today! You don't mind if I take some of this stuff off, do you, Uncle Jack? After all, we're family!"

She stood up and proceeded to detach the skirt from around her waist, then crossed her arms and pulled the t-shirt up over her head. Jack stared open mouthed as she stood over him in only her tight cotton panties and lacy half-bra. The little bikini briefs were cut very low and clearly showed the contours of what lay beneath, and the brassiere just barely managed to hold her full breasts, covering only their lower halves while the rest swelled voluptuously above.

"There!" she exclaimed happily, "that's much better! Now let's get back to work on you..."

She continued massaging his legs, this time the muscles on the tops of his thighs. As she moved up and down from his knees to his hips she completely ignored the bulge between his legs, which was becoming increasingly obvious. After this, she stood up and climbed over him again, straddling his large belly while she leaned forward and massaged the back of his neck and his forehead. He stared at her breasts, which bobbled right in front of his face as she vigorously kneaded his shoulders and deltoids. She didn't look at him while she did this, focusing instead on the work of her hands, the tip of her tongue stuck at the corner of her mouth while she exerted herself with a little frown of concentration. Then she had him spread his arms out to the side, and proceeded to run her hands along them, from his wrists to his shoulders and back again. Each time she leaned down to reach his wrists her face came very close to his and her breasts squeezed against his chest. "Peek-a-boo!" she chirped, grinning at him, then rose up again as her hands moved back to his shoulders. He could smell her skin, a fine sheen of sweat covering her breasts as they rose and fell before his eyes. Behind her his erection was starting to lift the elastic band of his trunks.

After she was done with this, she sat up straight and moved back a little on his belly while she started to manipulate the pectorals of his chest, what she could reach of them under their layers of fat. Suddenly she gave a yelp as she began to slide down his belly.

"Yikes!" she cried, recovering her balance. "That was a surprise! Just like skiing backwards down a big hill!"

While still straddling him she had slid down the lower slope of his large belly, and had come to rest with her spread crotch pressing directly on his throbbing erection. She looked up at him and laughed.

"Well, that was fun," she said, "sure didn't expect that!" Reaching behind her, she grasped his knees and leaned back, arching her back and looking up at the sky.

"Gosh, what a beautiful day!" she sighed. "Doesn't it feel soooooo good to be out here?" She closed her eyes and smiled up into the sky, while she stretched and writhed in pleasure under the warm sunshine.

Jack was almost drooling now as her warm crotch rubbed against his hard penis, trapped and excited almost to the point of bursting inside his trunks. He looked up at her gorgeous body, from her hips and the maddening sight of her crotch grinding into him, just barely covered by her thin panties, up her toned belly to those incredible breasts, almost escaping from the tantalizing brassiere. For several seconds she remained stretched back with her eyes closed, smiling while her uncle was staring at her and going mad with lust.

Finally she straightened up and kneeled between his legs, her hands on her knees as she rested back on folded legs.

"Well," she said, "that's the end of the massage. So, how was it? Did it feel good?"

Jack was open-mouthed, speechless for a few seconds. When he finally managed to speak, it was in more of a croak than a voice.

"Yes," he forced out, panting. "Yes, but..."

"But?" she responded, her eyes widening. "But what?" she said with a little pout. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Oh god, oh yes, Anita, but..." He bit his lips and finally managed to get control of himself.

"What I mean, Anita, is that if you...I mean I think you could, you know, make a lot more money in your job if you, well, you know, if you sort of...sort of went a little further?"

"Further?" Anita said, frowning in puzzlement. "How do you mean, Uncle Jack?"

"Well, I mean that sometimes men can get very, ah, you know, excited, when a pretty girl like you gives them a massage, when she touches them so nice the way you do, and...well, if you, ah, if you touched them some more, you know, in a way that...that sort of relieved their excitement, then I think they would really like it and..."

He trailed off and Anita looked at him for a few seconds, seeming not to understand what he was saying to her. Then her eyes flew open and her mouth dropped in astonishment.

"Oh! You mean, if I massaged"

She reached forward and placed her hand directly on his bulging erection. Her hand remained holding it lightly as she looked enquiringly into his eyes. Jack breathed in sharply and let out a barely suppressed whimper. His penis jumped, but Anita didn't move her hand.

"Y...yes, yes," he panted, "yes, right there, I...I think you could do very well in your job if you did that..." His face was flushed and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Anita removed her hand and looked down at the ground, frowning.

"Gee, I don't know, Uncle Jack. I don't think I could do that."

Jack could not hide his inward groan of disappointment and frustration.

"I think you could do it, Anita, I think you'd be...I think you'd be really good at it. Just think, could pay for all your school books with the extra money you could make!"

Anita thought about that, and then looked up at him shyly. "But...but I've never done anything like that before. I wouldn't know what to do."

Jack was getting more excited now. "It wouldn't be hard for you to learn, Anita, it's real simple. You just need someone to show you, that's all."

"Well...well, I don't know," she said softly. Suddenly she seemed to get an idea.

"Uncle Jack, do you think you could...oh, I shouldn't ask you...but...well, you think you could show me how? If you wouldn't mind? Since we're family and all?"

"I...I'd be happy to Anita. Anything for my favorite niece!"

Anita rose to her knees and looked down at the bulge in his crotch.

"Well, I guess I have to see what it looks like first. Can I look at you, Uncle Jack? Please?"

"Yea...yeah," Jack said, licking his lips. His eyes were burning. "Go ahead, get a good look at it..." He spread his legs wider.

Anita reached forward and pulled the elastic waistband of Jack's swim trunks down until his cock and balls leapt free of their confines. She hooked the waistband under his balls and left it there, leaving him completely exposed.

Jack was hung like a horse. His erect cock was eight inches long, and its tip had extended completely out of the foreskin. The head was dark red and glistening, and looked almost angry in its quest for more stimulation and excitement. His balls were hoisted like a hairy bag of tennis balls held high by the stretched waistband.

"Wow," said Anita, "you're so big! I...I don't know where to begin!" She cupped his balls in her hands, and gently held them, slowly caressing his sac.

Jack's breath was catching with excitement now. "Well," he said, panting hard, "just take your hand and--"

"It's all veiny!" Anita interrupted, running a fingertip along one of the prominent veins that formed a network on Jack's engorged penis. "Wow, that's so weird! It looks so big and swollen. Are you sure it doesn't hurt with all these veins sticking out like that?" She continued running her finger up and down the bluish veins that covered his quivering erection. Glancing at her watch she asked, "So what should I do now?"

"God, no, it doesn't hurt, it feels just so fucking good! All ya gotta do is just...ohhhhhh!"

"Look at how this big ridge runs up and down," Anita had interrupted again, "all the way from here..." she put her fingertip on his scrotum, "...up to here...," running up the shaft to the head, lightly feathering his cock along the underside, up and down.

"Ohhh my god!" moaned Jack, struggling to speak. "That feels so..."

"So what should I do?" asked Anita, removing her finger and looking up at him expectantly.

His labored breathing was making it difficult for him to speak. "Take your hand, sweetie," he finally managed hoarsely, "and put it around my cock. Then move it up and down..."

She reached out and gently clasped his rigid penis in her soft hand. "Like this?"

"Mmmmm, oh yes, just like that," he panted.

"And I move this?" she asked again, and slowly began to slide her hand up his cock, holding it lightly, barely touching it, very, very slowly up and down...

"Ohhhhhh god yessss!" he groaned, closing his eyes in ecstasy as his pleasure mounted.

"Am I doing it right?" Anita asked softly. "How long should I do it?"

"Ohhh you're doing just perfect!" he panted. "Just keep going, keep doing it until I cum..."

"Just like this?" she said, looking again at her watch. "Does it really feel good?" She began to move her hand faster, but loosened her grip slightly, so that what he was feeling now was pure, tantalizing tease.

"Oh god, oh god..." he was babbling now. "Please, oh please, just a little tighter, sweetie, please, just a little more..."

Anita studied her watch. "Tighter?" she cooed. "Like this?" She tightened her grip on his ravished penis and continued stroking it very slowly, coaxing his pleasure higher and higher. As her hand passed up over his swollen glans, she squeezed it gently, causing it to expand still further under her fingers, purple and glistening. Pre-ejaculate was oozing from the opening in the center of the flared knob, lubricating Anita's tormenting hand and making the sensations it was creating even more exciting and thrilling. Jack was being irresistibly driven towards a delicious orgasm, each maddeningly slow stroke bringing him closer...closer...closer...

"Yoo hoo, you still down here? Mom wants everybody to come for dinner now." The voice was Michelle's, and she was coming down the path to the clearing.

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed Anita, as she jumped up and quickly pulled on her skirt and t-shirt. "Well, I guess the lesson is over for now, Uncle Jack!"

Michelle appeared in the clearing, and Anita winked at her.

Good old Mickey; Anita had whispered to her to come back in thirty minutes, exactly thirty minutes. And Michelle had complied, almost to the second.

Jack's face was on fire, and he hastily pulled up his swim trunks, holding his hands in his lap to hide his now truly enormous problem.

"Uh, you girls go ahead, I have, uh, something to do here. I'll join you in a minute."

Anita put her hands on her hips. "Oh, no you don't, Uncle Jack! When Mom says now she means now--so come on!" She walked over to the blanket and pulled him to his feet. He quickly snatched up the blanket and held it in front of him.

"Good!" said Anita. "You can carry that and I'll take my bag. Now, let's go!" She motioned to him to go ahead, while she and Michelle followed behind.

As Jack hurried up the path, Michelle stopped Anita. "Now what was that all about?" she asked.

"Well, let's just say there'll be no jack for Jack today!" Anita answered. When Michelle looked puzzled, Anita laughed. "I'll tell you later," she said, and they continued on up to the house.


* * * * *


After dinner that night, when Anita was leaving the kitchen after helping with the cleanup, Jack caught up with her and asked if he could talk with her for a moment in his den. She smiled and followed him into the room. He shut the door and turned to her.

"Anita, that was really a great massage you gave me today," he said, a little nervously.

"Why thank you, Jack," she replied. "I enjoyed doing it, it was my pleasure!"

He nodded and smiled weakly, then continued. "And...and I was thinking that since we were, ah, interrupted in the middle of the lesson I was giving you, maybe we could continue later tonight, or tomorrow maybe; whenever you want. I, ah...I owe you that much. There are a lot more things that I could, uh, that I could show you that, know to help you in your job and all, and--"

Anita interrupted him and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, Jack," she said tenderly, "I couldn't ask you to do that. It's so sweet of you to offer, but I really don't want to impose on you any more. But thank you, though."

Jack shook his head vigorously. "Oh no, no," he said, his voice rising in pitch, "it wasn't an imposition, Anita, not at all! I was really happy to help out, honest I was! It's just that, uh, well, things were going really good, and you were doing so well, and I, uh, I think that if we finished...I mean if we continued with the lesson I could show you, I mean I could explain to you how you can, uh, you know, how you can help your business, and--"

"No, Jack," Anita interrupted again, "you've done enough already, honest you have! I really think I've gotten the gist of what you were showing me, and I know I can figure out the rest for myself. And I'll have you to thank for it. Believe me, Uncle Jack, when later on I'm at work making some man very happy, I'll be thinking of you. And I hope you'll be thinking of me, too, thinking about what I'm doing with what you taught me..." She kissed him again, this time on the lips, very gently.

"Well, ta!" she said brightly. "I'm off to talk to Mickey about taking me to the station tomorrow morning. I'm leaving early, so I probably won't see you again, until my next visit. Sweet dreams, Uncle Jack!" And with that she was off, leaving Jack red-faced and sweating.

Later, walking outside in the darkness, Anita told Michelle about what had happened down in the clearing. Michelle shook her head slowly and smiled ironically.

"So that's why he was mooning around you tonight, like a rutting stag."

"Yeah," said Anita, "I really got him going! You should have seen it."

"Well," Michelle put in, "it's like the French say."

"And what's that?" asked Anita.

"Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose," answered Michelle.

Anita laughed. "Oh, that. Yes, it was like old times, that's for sure, except this time I wasn't 'asleep!'" She thought for a moment. "And you know what?" she asked.

"No, what?"

"The way I left him, I wouldn't be surprised if Aunty Abby gets something nice and hot and hard between her legs tonight!"

Michelle almost choked.

"God, Anita," she laughed, "you are bad, you are very bad!"

"No," protested Anita. "I am very good--very good at being very bad!"

Then, each with an arm around the other's waist, the two laughing sisters walked back to the house.


* * * * *


Two days later, Anita was thinking about Uncle Jack as she watched the bound and gagged man under her struggle and writhe. Oh, yes, she thought to herself, smiling. This is what Uncle Jack wanted. I'll bet there isn't anything he wouldn't give for a little piece of this. Too bad he'll never get any, not from me at any rate.

The man Anita was straddling was securely bound to the massage table. At the beginning of his session Anita had watched while he stripped completely, and had then imperiously ordered him onto the table, where she proceeded to tie him down in a way that rendered him totally helpless: tight straps bound him to the table at his waist and chest, and his spread legs were held securely at the ankles and knees; his arms were extended above his head and strapped at the elbows and wrists; and because his cries and pleadings were likely to become annoyingly loud, his mouth was gagged. Only his head and neck were left free. There was nothing he could do by just moving his head, and it amused Anita to watch him thrash it about in agony and frustration.

Then she had gone to work on him. There was no actual pain, but the distress she inflicted upon him was intense and unbearable. Insanely sadistic tickling was mixed indiscriminately and unpredictably with bouts of slow cock-tease. One particularly effective technique involved a combination of tickling and genital manipulation: while gently fondling his cock in an extremely arousing way she would simultaneously begin to tickle his feet or his ribs. If he thrashed or cried out, or otherwise reacted to the tickling, the erotic fondling would stop instantly; only if he steeled himself to the onslaught of frenzied tickling convulsions and bore them in rigid silence would the sweet sexual pleasure of her cock-play continue. He was emotionally torn to shreds by instincts raging in opposite directions within him. Anita was very good at making this last for a long, long time.

This had gone on for an hour, after which Anita had stepped up onto the table and straddled his hips facing him, with his tormented penis bobbling between her legs. She had started this final phase of his "treatment" by gently masturbating him to the brink of orgasm, and then viciously slapping his agonized member, deflating it before it could ejaculate. She had done this several times, and his poor cock was bright pink from her repeated assaults.

She had removed her costume, so that the bound man had the added stimulation of her nude body lasciviously displayed to him as she worked to alternately arouse and frustrate him.

"Ohhhhhh my god, you want to fuck me so badly, don't you? " she whispered urgently. "Doesn't it just drive you crazy that you can't? " She rose up on her knees to give him a clear view of her naked body. Licking her lips, she smiled tauntingly down at him as she caressed herself, running her hands all over her body, squeezing and lifting her delicious breasts to his lust-filled gaze. She moved forward on her knees and gently drew his erect penis towards her, pressing it between her legs against her soft, downy pussy.

Raising her eyebrows and looking into his eyes, she whispered, "Or, maybe you can..." She reached down and took a bottle from the table, and carefully squeezed out one drop of massage oil onto her fingertip, and rubbed it around the glans of his penis in slow, sensuous circles, coating its entire surface with the slippery, glistening oil. Looking at him with a seductive, open mouthed smile, she gently grasped his cock and positioned herself directly over it. Then, slowly and carefully, she lowered herself until the tip of his erect penis just barely penetrated the warm, moist entrance to her pussy.

"Does that feel good? " she asked. "Do you like that? Want a little more? " With her hands on her hips, she began to move her lower body in circles, causing the head of his cock to nuzzle in the lips of her vulva, but never getting deeper into her. The man groaned through his gag, and Anita giggled at the frustration showing in his face.

"Aww, what's the matter? " she cooed, "That not enough? You need to get your poor little cock in deeper? " She put her hands behind her head, which caused her breasts to jut out voluptuously, and smiled tauntingly down at him. "How's this; this better? " Never taking her eyes off his, she lowered herself another half inch onto his cock. She was still for a moment, then started a gentle up and down motion, a slow bounce that moved the tip of his cock in and out of her pussy over a stroke of barely an inch, just enough to engulf his cock head in her slick warmth, but which left the sensitive area just below the cleft out in the cold and neglected.

"It's not enough, is it? " she taunted. "You need just a little more, don't you? Awww, poor baby! " The man began to writhe under her, trying desperately to raise his groin higher, to penetrate more deeply into the tantalizing pussy that was being held just out of his reach. Anita laughed delightedly at his futile struggling, and continued to mock and taunt him about his unsatisfied need.

"Mmmmm, it's so hot and wet up inside me, just imagine how it would feel if you could get your poor cock up inside there! Ohhhhhh, think about it, think about how that would feel. You need the pleasure soooooo much, don't you? " She frowned and bit her lower lip in mock sympathy for his agonized frustration. "And it would be so easy to let you have it, too. All I would have to do is this..." She allowed herself to descend a full inch lower and moved up and down slowly, giving the first two inches of his penis three slippery strokes inside her. But then she raised herself and continued with the frustrating bounce. "...But I'm not going to let you have it; that was all you get..."

The man moaned frantically through his gag in lust and frustration, and thrashed against his bindings, trying to reach up higher, just a little higher, to get just a little more stimulation from that tantalizing, warm pussy. Anita responded by teasing him more with little tastes of exquisite pleasure quickly snatched out of reach.

Finally, when he had exhausted himself with futile thrashing and writhing, Anita lifted herself from him and sat back to regard the slick, rigid erection extending up his belly. After a few moments she smiled and looked at him.

"Tell you what," she said, "I'll make a little deal with you. I will let you fuck me with your cock all the way up inside me for as long as you want, as fast or as slow as you want, your hard cock sliding in and out of my hot, wet pussy just the way you've dreamed about, the way you love it, if you can go for the next minute without cumming and exploding your hot spunk all over yourself. And I promise I won't use my hands, or my mouth, or my tongue..." She grinned and ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. "...And you know what? I'll even give you your money back; this little visit will be my treat! So what do you say, wanna try? "

He stared at her with desperate eyes, and managed to nod his head. His eyes shifted nervously, not knowing what to expect.

"Goody!" exclaimed Anita. "This will be fun!" She rose on her knees again, and reached for the bottle of oil. Squirting a generous amount into her hand, she reached down and massaged it into her pussy, all over her inner and outer lips, making a glistening, slick channel between her labia all the way from the bottom of her cleft to her pink clitoris at the top. Grinning wickedly, she moved forward and lowered herself until the man's excited cock was nestled between his belly and the slippery channel of her cleft. When he saw what was about to happen to him he began to struggle again, attempting to escape from the pleasure chamber that Anita had just placed him in. His eyes closed, as if trying to block out what was coming.

Then she began to move, slowly, sensuously, she moved her crotch back and forth over the imprisoned penis, sliding her warm, lubricated labia up and down the underside of his enflamed erection, stimulating every part of it with thrilling erotic sensation. As she rose to her highest point his glans slid past the opening at the bottom of her pussy, almost entering into that hot paradise, then glided up between her labia as she lowered herself, until the ultra-sensitive point at the top of his shaft was nudged and tantalized by her little pink clitoris as it slid by at the top of her slit.

Anita was enjoying the stimulation her clitoris was receiving from her movements, and she intended to use the man's trapped erection for her own pleasure. Hints of her approaching orgasms rippled through her as the engorged glans rubbed up and down under her little pink nub. She watched the expression on her victim's face to judge just when she should move to finish them both off.

The man was straining to control himself so that he could claim the prize of a full fuck with Anita. His eyes were closed and he struggled to think of anything but the incredible flood of pleasure he was feeling as her slick pussy slid up and down his cock. It was unrelenting, and was driving him closer and closer to orgasm. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tight in concentration.

Anita saw this, and when just a few seconds remained in the minute, she suddenly ceased her movements. The man, not understanding what had happened, opened his eyes and looked up at her. She looked into his eyes in pleading supplication, and began sliding against him again, this time harder and faster.

"Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna cum!" she moaned. "Please...please make me cummmmm...!" Her face showed desperate surrender to her impending climax, and her full breasts swayed and jiggled inches from his face, their pink nipples swollen and erect, as she rubbed her hot, slick pussy up and down his excited cock. The tops of her breasts were flushed, and sweat stood out on her brow as she trembled and whimpered and begged in the throes of the rippling waves of her approaching orgasm.

It overwhelmed him. The sight of the woman on top of him in helpless surrender to her own lust, as she deliberately ravished his cock with her own hot pussy, the sweet, irresistible pleasure burning between his legs--it was too much: he gave it up, and spurts of hot semen burst from his cock, reaching all the way to his forehead and gagged mouth. Anita grabbed the bucking penis and worked it until it was totally spent. When it was over, she clapped her hands and grinned at him, and raised her fists in triumph.

"You lose!" she sang in a playful giggle, and jumped lightly to the floor, leaving him groaning in his restraints. She went into her back room to tidy herself, and put on a robe before she finally returned to release him from the table.


* * * * *


On her way home she had dinner in a small Italian cafe that stayed open late. She read while she worked on her Frutti di Mare at a leisurely pace. Two middle-aged men were ogling her from where they sat in a corner, but she ignored them. She knew that Giovanni, the owner, wouldn't stand for anyone bothering her. The men were obviously trying to look up her short skirt, but that, as far as she was concerned, was their problem.

Tomorrow would be her last day of work before returning to school, and she was glad of it. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy what she did, far from it; it gave her the opportunity to be creative in what was essentially her own private sexual laboratory. But the change would be welcome, and she was looking forward to picking up where she had left off with her professor friend John, the only man she knew who deeply understood (and personally appreciated) her erotic predilections. In fact, the book she was reading was for the course she would be taking with him during the first semester.

It was late when she arrived home, although there was still a light shining in the window of the Fleury apartment overlooking the courtyard. Pierre must be still up, she thought to herself.

Entering her apartment, she turned on the lights and kicked off her sandals, then tossed her bag onto a chair and went directly to the window. She parted the curtains and pushed open the casement window to let in the warm night air, fragrant with flowers from Madame Fleury's courtyard garden. All was dark in the apartment opposite, and she smiled as she pulled her University sweatshirt up over her head, removing it and tossing it on the bed beside her. Then she lowered the zipper of her denim skirt and stepped out of it, tossing that onto the bed as well. She hadn't been wearing a brassiere under the sweatshirt, and stood at the window now wearing only pale yellow bikini panties. Reaching up, she stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She put her hands on the back of her neck, and began to flex her upper body to the right and left to relieve the tensions of the day, her large breasts swaying and bouncing with the motion. Looking out into the darkness, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and began to push them down over her hips. But then she stopped, reached for the window curtains, and pulled them shut.


* * * * *


Last day of work before the start of the fall semester. She rarely made an appointment with a client at Gentle Hands, but she had done so with Thomas. Thomas was special, and he interested Anita. If he hadn't, she wouldn't have bothered with the thought and preparation that he required. She would meet him tonight at 8:00. After that, she was done.

Until then, the day was her own. She spent it preparing for her program at the University, organizing reading lists and schedules of the projects she would be working on. And, of course, there was her wardrobe to consider. Although she was strictly all business when it came to her studies, she knew very well that her presence often created interest among the male members of the University community, both students and faculty. So, she thought, if appetites were going to be whetted anyway, there might as well be hunger to go along with it. In other words, cocks were meant to be teased, and her choice of clothing was guided by that maxim. Her friend John was too wise and knew her too well to be taken in by her wiles, but the rest of the male faculty was fair game.

At one o'clock she went down to the cafe and had a leisurely lunch with Therese Fleury. She spoke briefly about her weekend and her family, including Uncle Jack, but only about his lechery, not what she had done about it. Pierre was off visiting with a friend for the day, Madame Fleury told her. He had taken the birthday present Anita had given him to show it off. "He is so proud of it, " Therese explained, "he takes it everywhere. Even to bed I think!"

Anita smiled and said, "I'm glad."

Later that evening Anita was working with her computer, putting the finishing touches on a collection of files she had been assembling. She put a blank CD-ROM into the machine and copied the collection onto it. She then got her laptop and put it and the CD into her large tote bag along with her outfit for the evening, and set off for Gentle Hands.

Thomas had been coming to see Anita all during the summer, sometimes several times a week. He was almost never permitted to have an orgasm with her, even after extended sessions of penis fondling, in which she would bring him to the brink of release, only to send him on his way unsatisfied. She sought to control his masturbation, as well, instructing him to pleasure himself at home but never to grant himself relief. That, she promised, she would give him herself. Sometime. Next time, perhaps. Maybe. And on rare occasions she did, but most of the time he was kept in a state of simmering sexual frustration.

Fairly early on in his visits with her, during an extended session of slow, maddening cock-tease, she had coaxed from him a secret, a secret that had led to what she claimed was a program of treatment for his "problem." For Thomas had gotten into trouble with the law, and was now under strict orders never to go near schools or playgrounds, or any other place where young girls might be found. No longer able to seek excitement from exposing himself to little girls, or watching them on the off-chance of getting peeks up their skirts, he sought to indulge his fantasies with women who would oblige him with naughty role-play. But in Anita he found something unexpected: someone who would "help" him to deal with his underlying psychological problems.

Anita convinced him that it was necessary to learn how to control his impulses. If he could be strong in the face of temptation, then things would go much better for him. And she was more than happy to provide him with the sort of piquant temptations that got him trembling with illicit lust. Learning to deal with them was up to him. Being denied orgasm when he was so excited would help him; it was just part of the treatment, you see.

When Thomas arrived that evening, at eight on the dot, he found not an empty room where he was expected to wait, but instead, Anita herself, waiting for him on her couch. She was dressed in a schoolgirl uniform, with a white blouse, pink and blue plaid pleated skirt, suspenders, black patent leather shoes and ankle socks. She was lying on the couch with her back propped up on a cushion at one end, and her knees were up and spread wide apart, revealing tight, white cotton panties. Her hair was tied in two ponytails, and she was sucking on a lollipop. Thomas stopped up short when he saw her, unable to speak. She regarded him silently for a few moments, her tongue making slow swirls around the red lollipop.

"Hi," she said. "Come on over here and sit down." She motioned to the couch. Thomas complied, and sat down next to her, sitting stiffly with his hands clasped between his knees. He tried not to stare at her, but his eyes shifted about nervously, always returning to between her legs. She smiled and kept licking her lollipop.

"Go ahead, you can look," she said between licks. "I don't mind; I want you to." She spread her legs wider, causing her panties to press more tightly into her crotch, clearly outlining her well-defined pussy. She giggled when she saw him blushing.

"You like to look, don't you?" she said, turning her head slightly and smiling at him with her lips parted, watching his excitement rise as he stared hungrily between her legs. She began to move her knees together and apart, swaying them back and forth. "It gets you hot when you can look up a girl's skirt, doesn't it? Especially when you can get a good look at her panties. You love that, don't you?" He nodded slowly, mesmerized by her panty tease. She giggled and kept her legs spread for him.

"And I bet you wish you could touch, too, don't you?" She licked her lips and looked at him with a tantalizing leer. "Ever wish you could get your hands under those teasing little girls' skirts and feel them up? You'd love to stroke their pretty little pussies, wouldn't you?" He was breathing faster now; he licked his lips.

"Go ahead, touch," she offered. "You know you want to. Go ahead, I'll let you. See how nice my warm pussy feels hiding in my tight little panties. You can touch me. Just a little..." She squirmed her hips around to encourage him, keeping her legs wide apart.

Thomas reached out tentatively, and lightly stroked his thumb up and down her crotch, feeling the curves of her labia under the thin fabric of her panties, feeling her warmth and moistness. Anita watched him, sensing his growing excitement.

"Mmmmm, that feels so good, Thomas," she cooed, biting a knuckle as she watched him groping between her legs. "Pretend I'm a little girl in the playground. ...Wouldn't you just love to touch her like this?"

He let out a low whimper and began to fondle her with both hands. She sat up and moved her feet to the floor when she sensed that he was about to put his hands inside her panties.

"Ohhh, Thomas," she moaned.  "This just makes me want to touch you! Can I, please?" Without waiting for an answer, she set to work opening his belt buckle, then unzipped his pants and freed his throbbing erection. He gasped with surprise and pleasure as she began to fondle him with exciting caresses. She sat very close to him and looked into his eyes as she slowly and expertly masturbated him.

"You know what I want to do?" she said in a little girl's voice.  "I want to have a lollipop contest! I wanna see what's the best lollipop!" Jumping to her feet, she quickly slid his pants and underwear down and off, then positioned herself on her knees between his legs. She held her lollipop up next to his erect penis.

"There!" she said, "two lollipops! Hm. They're both kinda red." She squeezed her lollipop and then his cock with her thumb and index finger. "And they're both real hard. So I wonder how they taste..." Looking up at him, she gave the lollipop several slow licks, finishing by swirling her tongue all around it.

"Well, that one wasn't bad. Now let's see about this one..." The slow licks were repeated, this time along the underside of his erect penis. When she reached the tip she grinned up at him, and swirled her tongue all around the rim, lightly, teasingly.

This game went on for several minutes: first she would demonstrate on the lollipop what she intended to do to him; then, after a few seconds of kissing, licking or sucking on her candy, she would switch over to his cock and give it the same treatment. Sometimes she hesitated just before giving him what he was expecting, grinning up at him wickedly with open mouth or extended tongue. She giggled at his frustrated whimpers.

Finally, she sat back on her heels and held the lollipop at arm's length next to his penis, which she grasped at the base. She frowned and concentrated.

"Hm," she said, "this is a tough decision. They were both sooooo good! But I think this is ... the winner! Yaaayyy!" She tossed the lollipop aside and wiggled his erection as if it were a little flag.

"Oh, but look," she said, moving closer to his cock. "It got all sticky from my lollipop. Well, we'll just have to do something about that..." Leaning forward she took his penis into her mouth and began to suck it along its entire length, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As her wet lips sucked and caressed his shaft up and down, her tongue was busy lathing and swirling around the head inside her mouth. Thomas moaned in helpless ecstasy.

When she sensed that he was nearing the point of orgasm she stopped and stood up. He groaned in frustration at the removal of pleasure, and looked up at her, his eyes pleading. She looked down at him with her hands on her hips, and grinned mischievously.

"Well," she said, "since you were the winner, I have a special prize for you. So come with me..." She took his hands and pulled him off the couch and led him to the massage table, where he was made to lie down on his back with his wrists strapped at his sides.

"We're going to have a little picture show," she said. "One that I think you will really, really like!" She walked over to her table and returned carrying two pillows and her laptop computer. Placing the laptop on Thomas's chest, she arranged the pillows under his head and shoulders so that he could see the display screen. Then she pressed a key on the computer's keyboard, and a slideshow began, of the image files she had prepared earlier on the CD. She smiled at Thomas's sudden intake of breath when he saw the first picture.

"My, she's pretty, isn't she?" Anita whispered into his ear. "Such a sweet smile, and such a pretty little dress. I wonder if she's all dressed up for a party." The pictures advanced automatically, and Anita watched with Thomas, whispering her comments softly to him.

"Oh my, look! Her skirt has gone up a little. Doesn't she have pretty legs? How old would you say she is?" Thomas didn't answer; he licked his lips and began to perspire. The picture changed again.

"Ooooo, her skirt has gone up more! You can see her little panties now, can't you? You know what I think? I think she's teasing you on purpose, Thomas, what do you think? Such a naughty little girl!" Thomas was panting now, and his fingers were flexing as he automatically tried to move his hands to his aroused penis. But the straps on his wrists made this impossible.

"Awww, poor Thomas! Were you trying to touch yourself? But you know that's not allowed, you bad boy. You've got to learn to control those nasty urges of yours, or you'll get yourself in trouble again. " She reached under the table and produced an old-fashioned furniture duster, made of extremely soft and fluffy feather down. "I know pretty little girls like her make you want to touch, Thomas..." She drew the feather duster up between his legs, over his balls and up his quivering erection. "...But you have to learn to control those desires, don't you? No matter how good it feels to touch, you must never, never do it..." She continued moving the fluffy feathers up and down his agonized cock, teasing, tantalizing, frustrating... "Feel that?" she whispered softly. "It feels so good, doesn't it? Well, that's a no-no, Thomas; we have to train you to do without that."

The picture changed again, and Thomas moaned and whimpered in frustration.

"Oh, now I know she's teasing you on purpose, Thomas! Look at how she's spreading her legs! And her panties are so tight; I bet you wish she didn't have them on, don't you? And I bet she knows you're wishing that, too." The feathers continued to flutter around the head of his rigid, quivering cock.

"I wonder if her parents know that she's posing like this," Anita said, disapprovingly. "They must not know how pictures like this affect men like you, Thomas," she said sadly, "how they get you all excited and wanting something that you can never have." She moved down to his lap and looked at his erection. "Or maybe," she said, "maybe they know exactly what it does to you..." She began to run her fingertips lightly and rapidly all over his genitals, following the contours of his cock and balls as if she were molding their shape and size out of the air, touching him everywhere, but lightly, lightly. "Maybe this is just how they want your cock to be when you look at their little girl, Thomas. They want you to get excited and masturbate while you look at her. ...But we're going to fool them, aren't we, Thomas? No matter how much she teases you, you're not going to touch yourself, are you?"

The picture changed, and Thomas stared at it hungrily and groaned in frustration, while Anita continued to whisper softly into his ear.

"Ohhh, Thomas, look at her there; look at how she's posing for you! She really knows what you want, doesn't she?" The feather duster was again being drawn slowly up between his legs, brushing his inner thighs. "She's so young, but she's such a clever little tease, isn't she? Look at her, Thomas; I want you to remember how pretty and exciting she is, and at the same time I want you to remember this..." The soft, downy feathers came brushing up the underside of his cock, and remained fluttering around and around the engorged tip, tantalizing it and driving it mad with fleeting wisps of pleasure.

"Mmmm, doesn't that feel good, Thomas? When you look at pretty little girls like her I want you to remember how good this feels, and how much you need it. Doesn't it make you want her even more? Well, that's why you can't have it, Thomas. The more excited you get looking at little girls, and the more you suffer thinking about this pleasure that you can't have the stronger you will become. That's your treatment, Thomas; that's why you've come to me."

Anita pressed a key on the computer and the slide show ended. She removed the CD and slid into an envelope, then shut the laptop and put it back into her tote bag. Returning to Thomas, she freed him from his restraints and watched him as he began to dress.

"Here's what we're going to do," she said, coming up behind him and pressing herself against his back. She reached around him and handed him the envelope. "You're going to have a homework assignment! This CD has more pictures of that naughty girl, and lots of other girls, too, doing all sorts of exciting things for you to watch. You're going to take it home and put it on your computer. Get yourself really turned on." She moved a hand down and held his cock. "But you can't touch this, Thomas; just watch it get hard while the girls tease it. It'll drive you crazy, honey. But that's the idea; you have to learn to be strong, remember? It's all part of your treatment. And tomorrow come back to me, and while you're telling me all about how the girls made you feel, I'll touch you just the way you need."

Thomas took the CD from her, and continued to fumble with his clothing. Anita came around to face him and watched with amusement. Just as he was about to zip up his pants she interrupted him, gently moving his hand away from the zipper.

"Here, let me," she said.  She got down on her knees in front of him and gently pulled his penis out through the fly of his boxers, its erection finally having subsided. Holding it up, she leaned forward and gave it a soft, delicate kiss. It was starting to swell again as she replaced it in his pants and pulled up the zipper. She stood up and gave his crotch a gentle pat.

"There," she said, smiling. "Now it's time for you to go home."


* * * * *


Anita was thinking back on the past week, and forward to the coming school year, as she turned onto her street on the way home. She thought of Thomas and smiled. It wasn't that she had forgotten to tell him that this was her last day at Gentle Hands; he just didn't have a need to know, that was all. He would find out soon enough when he came looking for her tomorrow. He'll probably come back day after day looking for her, but she'd never be there. I wonder what that will do to him, she thought to herself. Will the stress result in the blooming of some new facet of his complex? It would be interesting to know, if she ever saw him again. Well, at least he'll have the CD to keep him company; those girls will really do a number on him. He'll be masturbating non-stop before too long. I wonder if he'll get into trouble with the police again; must remember to check the papers. Interesting case, I'll have to tell John about it. Maybe someday I'll write an article about it for a journal.

The Fleury courtyard was quiet as she crossed it. All the surrounding windows were dark, but moonlight bathed the fountain and the garden. A glint caught her eye, and she looked up. Something was extending upward from an open window. She smiled in recognition: a telescope.

In her apartment, she turned on the light between her bed and the window, and drew the curtains apart. She pushed open the casement and looked down into the courtyard. Then she turned and headed for the bathroom.

Five minutes later she emerged with a towel wrapped around her, holding another with which she was vigorously drying her hair. She walked to the open window and stood before it, looking out into the darkness. She continued drying her hair for another minute, then tossed the wet towel aside. The towel that was wrapped tightly around her just barely contained her breasts, starting an inch above her nipples and extending only to the tops of her thighs. Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms and stretched luxuriously, smiling out into the night. Then, crossing her arms in front of her chest, she grasped the top of the towel and slowly un-wrapped it from her body, leaving her completely nude in front of the open window. She lifted her arms again and yawned as she continued her pleasurable stretching.

With a contented sigh, she dropped her arms to her sides. She looked down at her voluptuous breasts, enjoying the caresses of the night breeze that roused her small, pink nipples. Her hands moved up and she squeezed her breasts gently, closing her eyes in sensuous pleasure. She fondled herself slowly, feeling her contours from underneath, lifting her firm globes and squeezing them together, then separating them as her hands moved up between them and closed on her erect nipples to give each a gentle pinch. They responded by becoming yet more erect and tumescent, small strawberries nestled on puffy pink cushions.

She looked out into the night and smiled, licking her lips lasciviously as she moved her hands down her sides and over her hips. Her hands came together between her legs, and fingers slowly traced along the creases between her thighs and her downy vulva, framing her mound and pouting lips. Looking down at herself, she parted her labia to reveal her tiny glistening clitoris peeking out at the top. With the middle finger of her left hand, she began to caress this bud of pleasure in slow, tantalizing circles, while her right hand returned to lift and squeeze her breasts, passing back and forth from one to the other. She closed her eyes, and soon she was moaning in passion, her face displaying an expression of helpless pleasure and urgency. Her left hand continued to massage her clitoris with increasing speed, and her right returned to between her legs, where she inserted a finger between her lips into the moist cavern of her pussy. Her mouth fell open as her finger plunged in and out of her dripping passage, while her left hand increased the speed of its assault on her ravished clitoris. Soon she was crying out in the throes of orgasm, and grasping herself between her legs with both hands. When it was over she raised her arms and clenched her fists behind her head, looking upward while her breasts heaved with her panting breath. Finally she lowered her arms and smiled dreamily out into the night. Stepping back, she closed the curtains, turned out the light, and slipped into her bed.

She smiled to herself as she drifted towards sleep. "Men," she murmured dreamily. "Just like little boys..." And then she was asleep.


* * * * *


"Pierre? Mon enfant, are you all right?" Madame Fleury was outside her son's bedroom door.

"Oui, Maman, I...I'm OK."

"Oh," she replied uncertainly. "I heard a sound; I thought you cried out."

"I...I think maybe I had a dream, Maman. I'm all right."

"Well, go back to sleep, then, " she said. ;"And this time just sweet dreams! Good night, chéri, je t'aime."

"Good night, Maman... I love you too."

Pierre settled into bed, pulling the covers back up, and resolved to remain quiet. Then he closed his eyes, and his small, gentle hands resumed their play.






Erotic Stories

Erotic Stories eBooks

Erotic Stories Links

Ciana's Erotic Stories Banners


Erotic Stories Home

Email Ciana