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Caught in the Shower by Lizbeth Dusseau

Caught in the Shower by Lizbeth Dusseau
From the novel: An Innocent Obsession (c) all rights reserved.

Steam billows from the bath, rolling like warm mist off the ocean. Leaning against the door frame, I stare through the shower stall at Alan’s body whitened by the fog. Rivers of water run down the glass, and down his thighs, and through the thick, dark hair on his chest and legs. Savoring his tight ass—like rounds of grapefruit I could pluck—my body quickens.

If he knew I was here, he’d invite me in.

So certain of that fact, I wander on tiptoe across the emerald-green tiles, inviting myself inside his shower. The door squeaks and he turns around, startled. Then his smile brightens as he sees the water soaking through my tee shirt. The sexy truth appears from beneath that clean, plain white. My broad aureoles bear lazy nipples at their centers—the buds tiny and teasable. These mounds look as though they are made of white cotton suspended on air inside my translucent shirt, floating toward him begging. I beg for what I want, wondering if he’ll accept the seduction or send me away. This is only the second time I’ve sneaked into his apartment and I worry that he’ll be mad.

With his scrotum in my fingers, I move the liquid sac across my palm as I stare into his brown eyes looking for approval. His cock begins to harden, throbbing rapidly to an erection, and then he tears away my nylon shorts, letting them drop like a wet rag to the shower floor. So, now he has my crotch in his hand, like I have his in mine—though his hand grabs while mine caresses. I don’t need more approval than that. Alan’s other hand squeezes my ass until I feel a painful, pleasurable surge of satisfaction, and slipping from his grasp, I drop to my knees, water falling from overhead like raindrops to drench everything still dry.

“Good bitch,” he says hissing, a hand running through my wet curls. I like him talking nasty, hearing the edge in his voice, as though he were demanding I serve him like a slave. I do this on instinct, the experience a natural one, as if my life were meant to be understood on my knees, gazing upward.

Now, my eyes rest on the organ beating at my face, as the swollen spear sticks up straight, pointing somewhere skyward. Wiggling into his crotch, his night musk lingers in the air about my nostrils and I breathe in its mysteries—he hasn’t yet washed the fragrance away.

He doesn’t smell clean, and I wonder where he was last night. And who he was with? Is that another woman’s perfume I sense, or did he just jack-off to porn? I smile thinking all these things, then swallow that smile as I swallow his cock. With my lips opening, the head glides inside. Drawing back the skin with my hand, my fingers slide along the stalk, moving up and down, while my tongue laps away the last of the salt and sweet cum I taste there.

He purrs hungrily as an animal would, winding his hands through my hair and pressing himself deeper down my throat. He’s anxious, wanting me as much as I want him.

We get to rocking inside this slippery stall, so hard he finally takes his hands away and grabs for the sides while I work the climax from him. Does he really understand how well I manage him? He thinks he’s in control, but I know better. So what if I have to do this from my knees, and listen to his crude conclusions about my soul when we’re not having sex.

I know he thinks I’m a whore, though he doesn’t have the guts to say so. It wouldn’t matter to me. I know what I am. Whore doesn’t fit, but the slut word does. I’d never take cash for what I do; if I can’t enjoy screwing my men without money then they aren’t worth my time.

In the center of this driving rainstorm of water, I taste something sweet; and although it quickly drowns away, there is the fresh sexual scent of him as he begins to erupt. I let the cum spurt down my throat, pulling it inside me as though I need it to live. I know my survival hinges on this. Hummm, sweet cream. Like I could nurse at this erection all day long. Were that so, I’d find one man and stick with him. But since the anatomy of my life doesn’t work that way, I keep moving from one man to the next.

“Get on the bed and stay on your knees,” he says while slapping my water-soaked face. Impishly crawling from the shower stall, I inch my way along the emerald tile and the dark carpet covering his bedroom floor. Scampering like a puppy to the top of his mattress, I wait, heinie waving like a red flag; cunt and everything else about me dripping wet. When he comes to me, ambling slowly from the bathroom toweling his face, I know he’s admiring my ripe flesh, almost wishing he hadn’t cum so soon. He would have liked poking that rod deep in my belly, shooting himself to the ends of the channel as though he were making babies. I’m surprised he even bothers with me now; once Alan’s had his fix, he rarely spends the time required to get me off.

Today, I’m lucky. He presses his hand at my snatch and begins to play. I know I don’t have long, but I only need a few quick moments until I’m far from the planet, mindlessly ecstatic. My randy home bursts. The muscles in me crunch down wishing for meat, but are content with a few deft fingers. I squeeze, bear down, squeeze more, and clench with my half-loaded pussy, while my ass grinds on air. His thumb moves higher, pressing at my anus. It’s too much to hope that this will be some drawn out venture. It’s come and gone in less than sixty seconds, but well worth that swaggering journey across his emerald tile.

“So, did I leave my door unlocked?” he asks.

“Un-huh,” I answer as I pull off my wet tee shirt and sit naked on his bed.

“What are you going to do about your clothes?”

“Borrow yours,” I conclude. “Or stay here long enough to use the dryer.”

“Can’t. I have a meeting in…” he consults the clock on nightstand, “in twenty minutes, Clarise.”

“Then a tee shirt and shorts will do.” Alan’s slim enough that we can share clothes; though, I’m sure it won’t be a habit—not with this man.

He stares warily my way.

“Come on, hon, I can’t go out of here like this,” I whine a bit.

“I think you look just fine,” he tells me smirking.

“Of course you would.”

I wait as he searches through his dresser and pulls out what I need. Blue nylon running shorts and a tee shirt from the Boston Marathon, 2005—faded but wearable. Might even improve my image.

“So, were you planning to seduce me, or was this an accident?” he asks.

“Sort of planning.”

“Horny?”

“Of course, and I thought of you first.” I lie, and he probably knows this, but we’re not worried about that sort of thing. Lovers like us always lie. I think the ego stays intact better that way. I was actually thinking of Joseph this morning when I woke up, but he’s away on business for a week and I can never see him this early. Stockbrokers wait until the last bell sounds for sex. I have been hungering for him lately—more than the others, and I don’t understand why. He’s aloof, inconstant and sometimes brusque, while I treat him like royalty. Anyway, Alan, the book editor, had to do. He’s rarely ready for work before ten. Too bad he has a morning meeting or we might have done it right and spent an hour in bed.

“You look good,” he manages the compliment while I’m shaking out my hair. The curls are like little rivers, with the muddled colors of my streaked brown hair becoming more noticeable when they’re wet. When my hair is dry, it sort of floats together like it’s natural—as though I don’t spend hours with Ziggy, the hairdresser, getting it right.

I’m vain about just this one thing—my hair. If my body is a little plump by current standards, it doesn’t matter. I have a theory about bodies, that size doesn’t matter, or shape, or even comeliness. Only energy matters, form without substance is lifeless and can never be sexy. I know my form generates warmth, and that the look of everything about me—wild hair, full breasts, and a hip-rolling ass—turns men on. I have plenty of men—falling into relationships I don’t ask for as easily as walking down the street. They like how I look and even better how I feel. Choosing the ones I want, I go with men who alarm me, and make no promises.

“Thanks,” I say in the wake of Alan’s compliment. He hasn’t stopped staring and that’s an even better compliment. “And thanks for the unlocked door.”

“And if it hadn’t been?”

Sporting a cocky grin I say, “I would have waited until you were out of the shower.”

“Then I would have been late.”

“Then we would have had to fuck fast,” I rejoin smiling as I jump off his bed.

“This was fast,” he reminds me.

“But it was good,” I sway myself past him looking for my sandals.

“You’re always good, Clarise.”

“Thanks.”

“But try to keep a lid on this sort of stunt.”

“Oh?”

“I mean not so often in the morning.”

“It’s only been twice.”

“And what if I’m here with another woman? That’s a strong possibility.”

“New girlfriend?”

“No. But I have other women and it could get awkward.”

“It doesn’t have to. I’d sidle up to both of you.”

“I wish,” he says disparagingly. “Women I date don’t do women.”

“How would you know, have you asked?”

“Trust me. They’d be giving up too much control.”

“Really? I would think that giving up control is what sex is about. Makes sense to me.”

“But not for some.”

I laugh. “Suppose that’s why you have me,” I quip while I’m starting for the door.

“Clarise,” he calls.

I turn back. “The office this week?”

“You have a message you want me to deliver?”

“I’m sure I can find one.”

We stop the banter there and I leave thinking it was a pretty good morning.

I’m always on a high and relaxed after good sex. My bicycle moves under me like I’m part of it. After great sex, I can’t ride at all, since I’m too removed and unfocused. That’s why quickies work during the day.

But for today, this is just what I need.

Bedtime Story – Lost & Found by Nat Cameron

Lost & Found by Nat Cameron – Paperback & Ebook

Before I start my story, I just want to remind you…I love you,” John says as he and Sam lie in bed. It’s warm outside but not hot enough for the air conditioning so they can hear the breeze blowing and the calls of exotic birds and animals unfamiliar to them.

“I feel so good being here with you, so happy. It’s such a contrast to when Aidon, Kate and I went to Hawaii shortly after the divorce. We all wanted a great Christmas holiday in the sun but the trip was also an escape from everything that reminded them about how much their lives had changed. I remember being there, and trying really hard for them, but I knew they were hurting and so was I. I saw families, and couples everywhere at our resort and I wanted what they had, or appeared to have. I felt so bad about taking their home from them.

But now, I know they’re happy again and here we are. We have so much together. You are a real partner, the one I was looking for and I never want to let you slip away.”

Sam is delighted to hear John express himself so freely. She always knew he was a good communicator, it was one of the things that attracted her to him, but he is like other men in her life; able to talk about how he feels, but not conditioned to do it, so it doesn’t always come easily.

“That story you told me this morning was so exciting. I’ve been having fun thinking of a story for you,”

he continues. “I kept imagining how hot it would be for you to be Pam’s Pet Girl and how exciting the whole scenario would be for me to observe as a fly on the wall. So that is where I am going to start.”

“Mmmmm, yummy” Sam says, turning off the light and settling in, under the sheet.

John begins:  “Pam has arranged to take you to her house for a sleepover. She comes to my place to pick you up. I greet her at the door. You are fully dressed because you are ready to go, but you are kneeling on the floor with your head down when she arrives.

“John, good to see you man!” she says “I am so excited about having Fifi overnight. As per our talk on the phone the other day, my friend Andrea is coming over for dinner and she knows I’m borrowing Fifi, so that’s all good, right?”

“Perfect, now, I want to be very clear about the rules for Fifi. She is to be a Pet Girl the entire time. Any failure on her part, any talking or, God forbid, talking back, will be met with severe punishment from you and I will back you up 100%. I have already explained these rules to her but she might need some discipline to help her to remember. Isn’t that right girl?” I stroke your hair and you leave your head down.

“Let me show you what’s in her bag. I have her food and water dishes, her leash and collar and of course all kinds of toys and restraints for you to use at your discretion. Any vocalizing from her that you don’t approve of, or any at all, will result in punishment, a gag or both. How does that sound?”

“Amazing! I am so excited, I can hardly wait!”

“One last thing, I’m going to restrain her hands behind her back right now if you are okay with that and you can drape her coat over her like a cape, okay? I just think it’s good to establish your authority right away. I’ve got Zap Straps in there, so feel free to use as many as you want to. They are excellent restraining tools.”

Pam takes you out to her car. You sit in the backseat. “Head down” she says as she straps you in. I’ve put a light cotton tee shirt on you, no bra.

“Oh, look at you, all trussed up like a good little slut” she says as she strokes your nipple through the thin cotton, watching you harden under her touch.

“Be good, or I’ll be sure to let John know about it. Do you understand?”

You nod your head.

“Good ”

When you get to Pam’s place, her friend has not arrived yet. She leads you into her house. As soon as she has you inside the door, she orders you to get on to your knees. You kneel at her feet.

“Such a good little pet” she says as she pats your head and then runs her hands through your soft hair.

“Come” she beckons you to the chair she has just sat down on. You walk on your knees to where she is. She takes your coat from your shoulders and looks at your body. She loves seeing those lovely little breasts of yours under the tee shirt I’ve dressed you in. She can’t resist stroking and fondling you through the material.

“Mmmmmm you’re getting such hard little nipples aren’t you? I’m hoping there are some nipple clamps in that overnight bag of yours…if not…I have plenty here we can play with. Lie down” she orders, and you rest compliantly on your side at her feet while she relaxes, finishing an article in the newspaper. After a few minutes, she goes into the kitchen where she places the bowls down, puts water into one of them and leaves the food one, empty for the time being. She goes upstairs to her bedroom and opens the bag. On her bed she places the handcuffs, a package of zap straps, a ball gag, the vibrator and a pair of nipple clamps. She then takes out the thick, black leather collar and the silver chain and goes back down stairs.

“Good girl” she says as she sees you lying down on your side the restraints still holding your hands behind your back.

“Kneel,” she says as she places the collar on your neck and tightens it. She attaches the chain and then she orders you to walk on your knees. She leads you into the downstairs bathroom.

“Pee?” she asks, you nod.

“Alright, stand up,” she says. You stand

“Head down” she says making sure that even though you are standing, your subservience is maintained. She unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down. She then pulls your panties down. While you pee, she takes off your socks and shoes. She then slides your pants and panties off. You are now sitting on the toilet wearing only your tee shirt, and the thick collar with the chain attached.

“All done? good,” she says as she takes toilet paper and wipes you off, taking her own sweet time. She knows she is exciting you.

“Up” she says as she washes her hands at the sink. She uses nail scissors to cut off the plastic restraints around your wrists and then she orders you to raise your arms above your head. She takes off your shirt and you stand before her naked.

“Keep that head down” she orders as she runs her hands over your body, appraising you, stroking, pinching and fondling you freely, with complete control.

“Turn” she says. You turn around and stand with your back to her. She strokes the skin on your back and fondles your ass, kneading you, stroking you, reaching around between your legs to feel your lips.

“Open, that’s it, good little slut,” she says because she knows exactly how turned on you are already.

“My!….how wet you are, my beautiful, slutty girl. Turn back this way.” You comply immediately, partly out of a desire to please her and partly to avoid punishment. She kneels down.

“Open, wide this time.” She takes a good look at your pussy, so smooth and pink. She runs her hand over the bare skin of your mound.  Her fingers re-acquaint themselves with all of your secrets. She opens your outer lips, pulls and spreads your inner lips, briefly slides two fingers inside you and then rubs them teasingly, all wet and slippery on your clit. You work hard not to make any noise.

“Down! right down, on all fours like a good pet, now!” she says firmly. You obediently comply and feel the cold floor on your knees and your hands.

“Such an excited girl,” she washes her hands again. “You keep my fingers so wet baby, what a good girl you are,” she says. She leads you out to the living room where she tells you to sit. Obediently, you do as you are told. She places a soft fleece blanket on the floor with two large cushions and orders you to lie down. You walk to your bed, your chain dragging on the floor behind you.

Pam goes to the kitchen and you hear her open a bottle of wine and pour it into two glasses. You hear her as she prepares a meal. She puts some music on.  Not long afterwards, your smell garlic and herbs and many other good smells coming from the kitchen. The door bell rings. Pam goes to the door and calls through it.

“Is that you Andrea?”

“Yes”

“Give me a minute, I want to have everything just right.”

“Okay”

Pam approaches you. “Come!” she says as she walks you to the door. Pam places you beside the door and orders you to kneel.

“I want Andrea to be able to get a good look at you, beautiful pet.”

“Head down again now, that’s it.” She strokes your hair for a moment then opens the door.

“Hello, I am so glad you’re here!” Pam says as she and Andrea hug each other.

“Me too, thank you so much for inviting me, I am so excited about meeting your pet!” Andrea says.

“And….we get to have her all night. Her master won’t be picking her up till noon tomorrow.”

“Mmmmmm,” Andrea says, “so I guess we can be her Mistresses until then, how exciting!”

Andrea approaches you, raises your chin, looks at your face appraisingly. You know better than to make eye contact. She lowers your head and then crouches down to run her hands over every part of your naked body. She touches your upper arms.

“Nice toning” she says to which Pam agrees.

“He keeps her in really good shape.”Pam says

“I can see that, turn around girl! turn around Fifi!” Andrea says, already in complete control, showing firmness and absolute dominance. You turn, allowing her to look at your toned back and beautiful, round, athletic ass.

“Magnificent, alright, look at that! she has the backside of a twenty year old sprinter” Andrea says with appreciation.

Pam jumps in ”….which reminds me….I want to make sure we have some good things on hand with which to spank her, should she need discipline or punishment. I have strict rules from John, who has been very clear about his expectations for her. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll fill you in and we can make sure we lay out a good paddle for that lovely bottom of hers.”

“Stay!” Pam commands and she and Andrea disappear upstairs. The room is a little cold from the opening of the door. Your nipples harden but you stay still, eager to show them both, how good you can be when you put your mind to it. They come down, go into the kitchen without looking at you, get their wine and take it into the living room. They chat and get up-to-date a little, ignoring you entirely and establishing their complete control over you. Eventually Pam calls you.

“Here girl” she calls absently, as she continues to laugh and talk to Andrea. “Good wine isn’t it? and it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg,” Pam says as you walk compliantly to where she sits.

“Come here! What did I tell you about your head!? hmmmm? What did I say? Bad girl! You keep that head down! Now! That’s better!”

She takes your chain, wraps it around her hand several times and pulls it hard. She roughly manoeuvres you, so that you are in front of her on all fours.  She orders you to put your head right down on the carpet. You comply immediately. Andrea watches all of this, completely captivated by the spectacle she is observing. She sees you with your side to her, ass up in the air waiting for whatever punishment you have coming to you, to be delivered decisively. Pam gives you several hard spankings. You feel completely humiliated, your face flushes bright red and you feel as if you are going to come, right then and there.

“I’m sorry Andrea, that our conversation had to be so rudely interrupted by an impertinent girl who seems to be having great difficulty understanding her place at this moment. “

“Not to worry……I’m sure we can think of several different ways to reinforce that message as the evening progresses. I look forward to it.”

“Me too, but let’s keep her on a short leash in the mean time, there really can’t be too much discipline in this situation. Now, what were we talking about?”