1. The Writer and The Wretch


    Date: 6/17/2016, Categories: First Time, Author: vauntaray, Source: LushStories

    small a head,” he told her. “I am actually working on this story about a character called The Wretch. I saw her in a dream. Now I’m trying to take it forward.” “Interesting. Maybe I should help. You see that golden fountain pen inside the casing … kept for display? I will get that for you.” “Whoa! Thanks a lot. And where do –” “You write on my skin,” she cut him short. Dobbin’s mouth fell open. And so they began. The palms. Then the fingers. She did flinch when the first stroke poked at her skin. From then on, she looked away impassively. When Dobbin got done with the hands, he looked up at her. “Ms. Rita.” She awoke with a start. And then right on cue, the sweatshirt was lost to reveal a loose white sleeveless top underneath. Simultaneously, some exotic perfume hit the air, and his olfactory nerves. Dobbin felt his dick knock, and again! Half-way through the arm, and nearing closer to her shoulder, and that beauty bone, Dobbin realized he was repeating the same three lines over and over again. Ms. Rita sat by him, staring blankly at a spot in the distance, breathing slow and deep. Dobbin bent forward and pushed his nose into her armpit. “What are you doing?” “Does that tickle?” he shot back, immediately replacing his nose with the fingers. “Don’t get any ideas!” she said with a grin. “It’s impossible not to get any!” Shit! Did he just say that out loud? She smirked. But kept quiet. It was the turn of the feet now, and then the legs. Ms. Rita started folding her pyjamas; ...
    Dobbin helped her pull those up till the knee. The legs were slender and smooth, the feet soft and sensitive. No wonder Dobbin spent an extra few minutes teasing that gentle arch of her feet, varying the pressure on the pen, as well as the speed of writing. At one point, she let out a hysterical sigh, and Dobbin felt she had orgasmed. But Ms. Rita was holding on. “Where now?” he asked. “I think” she said, “You should take the back now.” “And I think” he said carefully, “You’ll need to lose your top then … Ms. Rita.” She stood up suddenly, took a good look around the floor, and then turned to face Dobbin. “It’s your lucky day.” Swish! Ms. Rita settled flat on the table – bra-trapped boobs pushed against the wood. Dobbin sat by her and began exploring her back, a mole here, a mole there, and the warm skin of a woman. He nearly rushed through the act this time; waiting in palpitation for the next. “These guards, they don’t come inside, do they?” he asked as Ms. Rita turned on the table. “Naah! Except under exceptional circumstances,” saying this she undid her booby-trapped bra and leapt back on to the table. “OH MY MY!” Dobbin shrieked, then stood with his hands up. “I need some time… or … or I’ll burst.” “Ha! Inexperience!” Dobbin was breathing, panting more like. He forced himself to look around, distract himself. “Why are you here at the library today?” He was trying to make small talk. “Nobody at home. No invitations either. Home would be a sad place to spend the night. Now, now ...