Journal Of A Timid Temptress Read online

  I swear, it felt like Philippe had half a dozen arms, like those statues of the deities in India. His hands were everywhere. My shirt came undone, peeled off and fluttered to the floor. Then the clip came out of my hair, freeing it to fly in every direction with super-charged exuberance. Bra followed shirt. Then one or more hands massaged my boobs, feeling every bit as good as I had known they would. I couldn't keep my eyes open as sensory overload kicked in.

  My nipples beaded as the tender skin began to tingle. Another hand undid the front of my jeans, then slipped down inside, a firm, warm pressure on my belly and gradually lower still. Moving my hips in a totally involuntary grind, I made a helpless sound, a mixture of whimper and moan, about that time.

  The answer came in a sharp crack. My eyes flew open to see what had caused it. Linds was apparently getting impatient. She now held what looked like a scaled down cat-o-nine-tails, which she'd snapped against her boot. When she did it again, Philippe shoved me forward. My jeans were sagging around my knees, so I stumbled. In desperation, I kicked them off. That left me in only my panties, a red thong.

  Linds reached for me, as if to catch me should I actually fall, but I didn't. Still, I was none too steady on my feet as I approached her. She caught my arms at the wrists. For an instant, she hesitated, looking at me sharply.

  "You're doing this of your own desire, aren't you? Entering into the game as a consenting adult?"

  I wasn't quite sure what this was about, but I gave a jerky nod, not sure where my voice had gone. I finally found it. "Yes. Er, yes. I think so. I'm twenty and no one kidnapped me, although I came with some assumptions that have proved to be wrong. But that was just me, my fault."

  "Good. I assure you that you won't be hurt or injured. If, at any time, you become frightened or the pain is too great, just say 'stop.' If you're a good girl, perhaps you can play the mistress next time. Phil and I take turns since we are both a bit of the dom. Would you like that?"

  I shrugged. I wasn't at all sure that would be a role I could fill, although it seemed to suit Linds. I couldn't quite picture myself in black leather.

  Philippe laughed again, close behind me. "It's all right, Geri. I promise you'll not be abused or harmed in any way. You may find the game as arousing as I do. It can be very exciting to be helpless, to surrender completely to the demands of a master or mistress, letting them do with you whatever they will."

  Before I could shape a reply, Linds picked up one pair of the handcuffs, which had the wrist bands wrapped in plush fabric. She snapped them deftly over my wrists, then pushed my hands up above my head. Now it was her hands that toyed with my tits. She pinched the nipples until it hurt, but then changed swiftly to a silky caress with the tips of her long, red-nailed fingers. Screaming red nails? That didn't fit my image of her, but then none of this did.

  Next she lifted my face with one hand tangling in my hair, brushed away the wild strands veiling my face with the other and brought her mouth to mine. I decided at once that Philippe kissed much better, but it wasn't hard to endure. After a moment, she drew back, snatched up a square of silk from the bed, and rolled it into a band which she tied around my head, covering my eyes.

  About that time, I felt warm skin against my back, followed by the thrust of a cock, slipping between my cheeks. There was a prickle of hair against my bare back, then a larger pair of hands came around from behind to cup my tits, fondling them. Awash in sensations, I started to lower my own hands because they were beginning to tingle from want of circulation.

  The little cat sliced sharply across my bare stomach. "No! You were not told to bring your hands down." I bit my lip against the whimper, shocked at the sudden rush of heat and moisture between my legs that followed hard on the heels of that sting. A shove from behind had me staggering a step before I fell forward onto the bed.

  The coverlet was not smooth, but a harsh, rather prickly fabric. Linds told me to move forward, closer to the head of the bed, but reminded me to keep my linked hands above my head. About all I could do that way was to kind of wiggle and slither. That rubbed my sensitive, normally protected skin against the fabric. It didn't quite hurt, but almost. That, too, was arousing.

  A moment later, my legs were grabbed, one from each side, and spread wide. With heavy cords, each ankle was anchored to a bedpost. The handcuffs hooked conveniently on a recessed hook in the headboard. There I was, trapped, totally helpless. A mixture of fear and incredible excitement washed over me. Tiny, fine shivers coursed over my nearly nude body as I lay there, face down, stretched just short of the point of actual discomfort. And helpless, utterly and completely helpless.

  What have I gotten myself into? It was terrible, yet I had never in my life been so totally hot, so aware of my body, each and every bit of it from the hair that still crackled out around my head clear down to my toes, but especially all those erogenous zones--exposed and available to not one person but two. Vulnerability was a new and potent sensation.

  My breasts ached. My pussy clenched and throbbed. It was all I could do to lie still and remain silent. I was pretty sure I should not move or make a sound without permission, and none had been given. If I rolled my pelvis just a little more I could probably press my twitching clit against that rough fabric on which I lay. And if I did that, I'd probably come in a few seconds. As badly as I wanted to, I didn't dare.

  Before I became utterly frustrated, the bed shifted as Philippe sat on one side and Linds on the other. I identified which was which by scent and sounds. Philippe had on his now-familiar woodsy aftershave, while Linds wore some kind of musky perfume, heavy and extremely sensual. The rhythm of their breathing was different, too, as were the small sounds everyone makes without realizing it.

  Surely more than four hands then began to touch me, to caress, pinch, poke, stroke, tickle, and rub. Wild energies hummed through my nerves. The textures of those touches changed from skin to fluffy softness that felt like fur, like feathers, like chamois or velvet. In between there were little stings, slaps, pricks and nips, piquant and bright, like a dash of lemon to freshen the palate in preparation for another gourmet dish. I could only lie there and endure--enjoy and endure, for there was pleasure in it, some of the most intense I had ever felt. My body was on fire. I could only shiver, tremble and shudder as voracious need seared through me.

  Foreplay had never been anything like this before. No wonder none of my fumbling Lotharios had ever brought me to climax. They'd not even begun to awaken my body.

  It was awake now, more aware than it had ever been before. I was slickly wet with my own juices, while every atom of skin was alert, attentively waiting for what came next. I'd never before thought of my entire skin as an erogenous zone, but it was. No matter where the touch was--on my soles, my legs, my back, my shoulders or spots normally more responsive, every contact was arousing.

  Dimly I realized that my ankles had been freed. A hand--I think Philippe's--lifted the link of the cuffs off the hook. I was too limp and weak to do it myself, but, with an assisting push, I rolled onto my back.

  I was free to move, but I still didn't dare. The blindfold remained in place. I'd started to understand that sightlessness added a new dimension to the other sensations. Now what?

  Linds and Philippe conversed briefly, I think in French. At any rate, I could not understand what they said. It sounded like a bit of disagreement, words hissed and spat in taut whispers.

  "You haven't said 'stop' yet." Philippe's tone held amusement, but no surprise. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself. "Does that mean you want to continue?"

  "Please," I replied, hoping the question gave me the right to speak. I knew what I needed, a big O in the worst way. I could not even touch myself to ease the fiery ache between my legs.

  The bed rocked then. Someone had come up over the foot and moved between my legs, which remained sprawled apart, even though they were no longer fettered. Then a hand clasped my right ankle. Wait, whoever knelt between my knees could not be doing that also
. Which one was where?

  My question was answered almost instantly. I felt the kneeler bend forward. Then warm lips closed over my left nipple, stiff and swollen with my state of arousal. The cheek and chin that brushed my skin held a hint of stubble; the scent that floated up to me was piney instead of musky.

  Philippe. Yes, oh, yes! Fuck me. Now! Please!

  After laving both my breasts with eager licks and laps, he began to work his way downward, trailing elegant loops and swirls of moist heat, as if writing love notes on my body with his talented tongue. Finally he nuzzled into my crotch, peeling the triangle of my panties away to open his path to my pussy. As his tongue quested between the labia and began to lap the juices I released, I could no longer stay silent and motionless. I writhed and moaned, half expecting a slash, but none came.

  At that very instant, another set of warm lips closed over my big toe. I let out a yelp of surprise. No one had ever sucked my toes before! It tickled excruciatingly, but, coupled with the stimulation of Philippe's mouth as he explored my secret places from clit to anus and back, I was overwhelmed with sensual stimulations.

  This time there was no stopping. The shudders started deep within my body and flowed to the opening where a warm tongue now probed. I jerked as if shocked, twitched and bucked and writhed as wave after wave of shattering climax rolled through me.

  Every time I thought it was almost over, something else would set me off again. Philippe sucked at my clit; Linds licked up my calf; Philippe thrust two fingers into my cunt and worked them around; Linds pressed my foot between her tits where the stiff material of her bustier abraded my sole and then rubbed against it so I felt her hard nipples. My toes curled involuntarily. She laughed then, as sexy a sound as I'd ever heard.

  I think I am going mad--stark staring crazy-insane mad!

  Chapter 3

  I lay there too shattered to move when they both finally stopped. The bed rocked again and I sensed that the two of them had changed places. Oh my, was Linds going to eat me also? Perhaps I tensed slightly at this notion, suddenly resenting the blindfold that kept me from seeing what was going to occur.

  No, I was sure it was Linds between my knees, but something warm and larger than fingers pushed at the opening of my cunt. It certainly felt like a cock. My head spun with confusion. No, it couldn't be. Was Linds a cross dresser, a male in disguise? But what...

  Then she leaned down to rest her body against mine and I felt her nipples, jutting from the bustier to press against me. The leather or vinyl of her skimpy garments was slick and felt almost cold against my heated flesh, although her skin was warm. Yet there was no question that a cock was probing into my pussy.

  My hands were still linked by the handcuffs and I still held both arms above my head. I wanted to use my hands to try to discover just what was going on, but there was no way I could. I rolled my head back and forth in frustration, even as I felt another orgasm starting to build inside me. I'd never been fucked quite so deeply before. It almost hurt, but the pain was exquisite.

  All at once a picture from one of the naughty magazines leaped into my mind: a busty woman wearing a harness that held a make-believe penis! Was Linds doing me with a strap-on dildo? It must be. But it felt so real, so life-like.

  I'd rather it was Philippe, but damn, the pleasure was amazing! Linds moved in such a way that the dildo seemed to twist and rotate every direction in my channel. Obviously she was getting off too because her breathing kept getting faster. Then she began to moan as tremors wracked her body. I felt that clearly as she rested atop me. I think we both climaxed at the same time. She lay there panting for a few seconds and then drew away, pulling her faux cock from me as she went.

  I pictured Philippe watching us and had to wonder what he was thinking. He'd made me come first, but I'd have expected him to want to fuck me immediately after that. Perhaps he had to let Linds get off first, though. It seemed they had some kind of arrangement about all this and had done it often enough before. The whole idea still boggled my brain, but I was having a fantastic time and gaining some amazing lessons toward my real education. How could I complain?

  Again the bed shifted and I caught a whiff of his distinctive scent, coupled with the pungent odors of sex, an instant before his furred chest rubbed against my bare tits. New excitement shimmered through me then. His hands slid along the sides of my face, holding my head still. "Would you like your eyes back, Geri?"

  I nodded. "Please," I said.

  He yanked the scarf away, pulling hair in the process, but I was so happy to regain the use of my vision that I hardly noticed. Next he reached up and pushed something on the side of the cuffs so they released as well. My arms were almost too numb to move, as if I had slept on them.

  He rubbed my hands between his, first one and then the other. "Your hands are like ice. Why didn't you say something?"

  "I didn't think I was supposed to. And you said I wouldn't be injured. It didn't hurt anyway."

  He shook his head as he muttered something under his breath. I think it was a foul word in French. Then he scattered butterfly kisses all over my face, eyes, nose, cheeks and finally my lips. As if from a distance, I heard Linds hiss something. I think he told her to shut up. My attention was fading fast, though because now his cock was finding its way into my pussy. If I had thought the dildo felt good, this was a hundred times better! He was big and powerful and hard as steel.

  I wanted to watch his face as he entered me for the first time, but my eyes kept falling shut. The room was dimly lit anyway. The glimpses I got, he looked very focused, very intense. Just as he completed the first long, deep thrust, the bed rocked again, in a way that was definitely not caused by our movements. He'd paused in my depths, filling and stretching me, so we were both almost still for an instant. When I pried my eyes open again, I saw Linds kneeling behind him.

  At first I could not figure out what she was doing. She was very close behind him, red-clawed fingers digging into his sides, just above where my legs wrapped around him. Finally it dawned on me. She was going to fuck him in the ass with the dildo! The shock of that almost stopped me, but I was too close to shut down.

  How we all managed to move in the same rhythm I have no idea, but we did. I would never have believed I could come three times in less than an hour either, but I did. We all yelled, more or less in unison, with the climaxes that rolled from me to Philippe to Linds in a tidal wave of titanic power. No wonder people make so much of sex. I never knew, never guessed it could be like this. What a surprise! What a trip! What an education!

  Sometime near daybreak, Philippe drove me back to my place. I was so sore and exhausted I could barely stagger into my apartment after he kissed me tenderly and told me to rest for the remainder of the weekend. My education was well and truly underway.

  * * * *

  April 21

  Well, I have actually babysat Becky a number of times now, as well as spent a couple more weekends with just Philippe and Linds. I have slowly come to feel some sympathy for her. She lets little things slip, enough I can sense she's always felt as if she were a misfit, always kind of dangling between worlds. Not really a lesbian, she enjoys the status of being a married woman, but she has some kinky tastes. She dotes on Becky as much as Philippe does, and she doesn't get along with her blue-blooded New England family too terribly well. I'm sure she knows she's not beautiful and never will be, but she can be striking when she dresses right, and I told her so. I've made a few suggestions and I think they've actually helped her. I mean we are kind of partners here, so I felt obliged.

  Philippe and she met when they were both in college some years ago, both kind of part of the hippie scene it seems. Somehow they reached an arrangement that suited both of them. A wife is almost a necessary appendage for a professor, and one with academic credentials of her own is most impressive. Imagine my amazement when I learned Linds is a scholar of French literature. She's actually been to the Sorbonne and the Louvre! I am so envious. The cachet of that
is just awesome.

  I still help Philippe by grading tests, finding books and other little errands I can run for him. He rewards me with a few minutes here and there, a quick tête-à-tête in his office or slipping off for a quickie when he's bringing me home when I have actually babysat Becky. Yes, you can do it in the Triumph, although the Volvo station wagon is a bit more convenient.

  I am dreading the end of the semester now, to be honest. Going home to Maizeville is going to be such a let down. There is not one single man in that entire county worth spending even an hour with. They simply can't compare.

  Now that I have known erotic pleasures so far beyond the fumbling lust of farm boys, I'm sure I'm spoiled forever. I still prefer one-on-one with a skilled lover like Philippe to a ménage and I am not greatly interested in a long term affair with another woman, but I have learned so much. I'm sure it will serve me well in time. My future mate will not have to train a naïve country girl in the amorous arts, at least.

  * * * *

  May 12

  Oh this is fabulous, better than my wildest dreams! I do not have to go back to Maizeville for the summer after all. Thanks be to all the gods. Linds and Philippe are going to France for ten weeks, both of them to work on their doctorates. Of course they'll take Becky and, since they'll both be quite busy with their research, they need a nanny. Naturally I'm first in line as the obvious candidate for the post.

  I actually get along with Becky splendidly, and I'm already planning some of the fun things we can do. Whether or not there will be time and opportunity for any more parties of three, I don't know, but I can hardly imagine living in the same house with the two of them and not ever engaging in any of the games we've been perfecting the past two months. I generally play the sub to their two doms, which is just a bit peculiar, but it works for all of us. I still prefer the times when I have Philippe to myself, but the variety keeps things fresh and exciting.