Amy’s Abduction
Introduction:
Kidnapped from the Institute
Amy’s Abduction
Andy looked depressed when I picked him up on the way to work. Normally he was an outgoing person, but today he was quiet and moody making the short drive a very long one. It wasn’t until lunch time that I was able to coax him from his shell to learn his beloved twin sister had been committed to the mental hospital outside of town. I had met Amy at several family functions over the past several years and she, unlike her brother Andy, was shy and reserved. Unremarkable in appearance, Amy hid behind large framed glasses and conservative attire far more suited to a spinster librarian than the legal secretary position she filled at the county courthouse. The medical report claimed that she was found by two coworkers, sitting in front of her fried computer staring at an empty monitor.
Andy had always confided in me since the day we met when we were both hired on the same as system analysts. Since I was the only single guy remaining in the office, Andy invited me to many of his family functions where we grew to be best friends although his wife never really hit it off very well with me. She was always kind of aloof anyways, and I learned that she was not only self-centered but below zero frigid also, a combination that lacked any personal appeal from myself, and provoked grudging tolerance from most of the other folks in the family. Andy persevered, hoping she would gradually change, but would always confide in Amy or myself when his commitment began to wane. Now, with Amy in the hospital, Andy became more and more despondent with each passing day despite my best reinforcing efforts. So a week later, when I dropped Andy off at the hospital, I parked the car and escorted him in a gesture of solidarity.
I really wasn’t prepared for the bevy of “loonies” we encountered on the way to Amy’s room on the third floor although I suspect that if I was forced to stay for any length of time, I’d be crazy too. The walls were all unnaturally white and undecorated, with the overpowering scent of bleach permeating the aging structure. It was difficult to determine the difference between staff and victims outside of the staff’s unimaginative uniforms. The residents displayed behavior I’ve only ever seen in “B” movies and beyond, making me wonder if it would have been better to remain in the car. As a side note, who in the hell names a mental hospital “Whispering Meadows?”
After dodging an army of “Twilight Zone” wannabes, an orderly resembling “Lurch” from the Adams Family let us in to Amy’s room. She was laying on a gurney; face up staring at the ceiling without blinking. Covered with a thin white cotton sheet, she could have easily passed for a fresh corpse in a morgue. Andy broke down immediately upon seeing her and I surveyed the austere room with nothing but a small window and a single plastic chair strategically placed by Amy’s side. Listening to Andy’s sobs as I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder was heart rendering. I could only imagine what had passed between them through the years, and felt helpless. The door opened and a pudgy nurse with a well practiced smile advised Andy the Doctor wanted to speak with him about his Sister. With a slow nod Andy regained his composure somewhat and shuffled from the room with the nurse. The door closed with a definitive “click” that filled the tiny chamber leaving me alone with someone (or something) I regrettably had never taken the opportunity to really know.
My mind was still awash with all the sensory inputs I’d just encountered. I looked down at the almost lifeless form of Amy. She really was attractive without her glasses with her dark doe eyes offset by creamy alabaster skin. Not fat, she was well structured with firm little breasts that made well defined cones in the sheet covering her motionless body. Here was a young and vibrant creature that was probably writing something secretive to a friend on Facebook one moment, then turned into a mindless vegetable in the next. What could have traumatized a person so severely on a computer monitor? I had studied a little entry level psychology in college to fulfill my humanities requirements, but didn’t wander too deep into the science as some of the negative behaviors hit pretty close to home. But this behavior was off the charts for me and I just sat in stunned silence waiting for Andy to return.
Her incessant stare became unnerving, and before long I was staring at the same spot on the ceiling. It was a quarter sized yellow discoloration that was barely detectable in the otherwise unremarkable sea of off white. Feeling my neck strain, I swung the chair around and lay my head adjacent to hers for more careful study. “I remember doing this as a kid,” I remarked aloud, “You can see anything you want – I see Aunt Mabel’s naval!” From the corner of my eye, I saw her blink.
Just then, a nurse straight out of the horror movies came in with a tray with a small translucent cup filled with pills, water and a bowl of gruel. Maybe gruel isn’t a very good description; it looked more like a bowl of recycled green pea spew from the Exorcist. Without a whisper of greeting, she cranked the bed so Amy was in a sitting position to feed her the pills and force some water down her throat. Her administration was way to clinical and made me cringe as Andy slowly wandered in with an ashen face.
“Amy’s not responding to therapy,” Andy muttered on the verge of an apparent crying jag.
“You wanna feed her?” The wicked nurse of the north queried unceremoniously.
“Sure,” Andy volunteered as he sank heavily into the chair I had hurriedly vacated when the nurse arrived. I excused myself as the fight or flight response kicked in. For one thing, I couldn’t watch Andy force feed his beloved Sister with that stomach churning slop. For another, Andy’s depression was similar to my own, and I needed some fresh perspective. Weaving my way through the captive loonies, I darted through the side door and into the fresh air of freedom. Alarm horns that I had apparently set off with my fire escape exit were blaring amid muffled exclamations from within the brick fortress.
A short distance from the institute was a burger joint that tempted my patronage when we arrived earlier, and I beat feet to its welcoming smells and offerings. I ordered some burgers and fries to go and paced nervously as the employees scurried around behind the griddles. With my heartfelt thanks, I stuffed the gut bombs in my shirt and ran back into the institute brushing aside the flustered security goon who was still trying to calm several of the victims. Darting up the stairs in a seldom seen display of my athleticism, I raced into Amy’s dungeon. Apparently stunned, Andy was still sitting next to Amy with a spoon held close to her tightly sealed lips. Quickly closing the door, I spilled the burgers onto Amy’s tray grabbing one for myself.
Andy gasped and I froze as Amy slowly reached for a burger and gingerly unwrapped it. As she took her first bite, she smiled. Andy started to cry as Amy and I finished our burgers.
Let’s get her out of here,” I stated emphatically.
“Amen,” breathed Andy with obvious relief. He quickly scooped her from the bed as I stuffed the remaining burgers into my shirt and opened the door. We darted into the hall and out the same exit I had used earlier as Amy slipped from her Brothers grasp and dashed barefoot down the stairs taking the lead. Horns were blaring, and people were yelling as we crammed ourselves into the car and made a squealing tire, made for the movies getaway.
We headed back towards town, taking the side streets to minimize detection while we caught our breaths.
“Let’s do that again,” exclaimed Amy and we all broke into laughter. Through the rear view I saw her peel off her flimsy gown and unfasten her bra releasing a deluge of partially digested pills onto the floor and giving me my first glorious view of her perfectly formed tits. Barely handfuls with delightfully tiny nipples that begged to be nibbled, they stood out firm and proud. Her eyes caught mine in the mirror and she dropped her arms so I could focus on their natural beauty. Damn near drove off the road until Andy hurriedly reached over and straightened the wheel.
“What are we going to do with her,” Andy queered as Amy quickly donned her unflattering gown and I rapidly returned to reality.
“Ask her,” I retorted.
“I want to go home,” Amy offered meekly. “Mom and Dad will take me back and anyone else will have to prove their innocence to kidnapping charges.”
“You shouldn’t be alone for awhile, Amy,” I offered.
“Why don’t you and Andy take turns staying with me,” she replied. “That would work,” I replied as Andy agreed with nod of his head.
“What happened, Amy?” The question escaped despite my resolve to wait until she felt like talking about the incident.
Amy stared silently out the window for a few moments while Andy and I held our breath collectively in anticipation. A faint thin blush travelled up her neck to cover her face as the silence became almost unbearable. “My friend Sherri sent a picture in my e-mail of a man’s ‘thingy’ that was as big as my arm. As I looked at it the computer made a strange sound and I don’t remember anything after that until I saw you staring at the ceiling next to me. Who is Aunt Mabel?”
I hesitated for a few minutes, trying to visualize King Dong terrorizing innocent unsuspecting victims on the net before I responded. “She lives in Kansas and is fat enough to squash people merely by sitting on them! She always wears these bikini tops and shorts during the summer exposing a stretch marked cavern where her bully button is hidden. She stepped on my foot once and it looked like Daffy Ducks paw for several weeks.”
“Graphic,” Amy muttered between giggles. “She should work for the highway department as a steam roller!”
“Always thought she could be a can crusher at the local recycle center; you know, just roll around with a cupcake in her hand,” I countered.
“Or maybe even. . .” she was cut off by Andy.
“Come on guys, surely she has some redeeming qualities.”
“She’s a great cook if you get to the cookies before she eats them all,” I offered as Amy and I broke into another round of laughter.
“Good thing were home,” Andy stated as we drove into the parking lot of Amy’s apartment; “I’d have to turn you in to the SPCA!”
Amy dug around in the loose dirt under her bathroom window until she found a little canister with a spare key in it. We all entered the apartment and Amy threw open the windows as I collected the petrified garbage and Andy cleaned out the moldy items in the refrigerator. Amy broke out a bottle of red wine, and we sat around making plans for the future. As it started to get dark, Andy headed out to get some groceries, and I fiddled with the TV, finally settling on reruns of the “Golden Girls.” Amy snuggled next to me, finding solstice under my arm.
After a long silence Amy turned to me inquisitively. “I want to see you’re thingy,” she murmured trembling slightly.
I choked on the sip of wine I had just taken. “Amy, you know what happened last time you gazed upon a man’s reproductive apparatus. Granted it was probably a grafted elephant trunk, but nonetheless. . .”
“Please, I need to see a normal man.”
“Surely you’ve seen. . .” Her hand was on my fly and ‘no’ was apparently an unacceptable response. Fumbling with the zipper unsuccessfully, I finally eased her hand back to her lap and released my trousers, pushing them down over my knees. She gasped, and took my thickening organ in her hand, studying it intently. Her fingers probed the glans and shaft, tracing the veins and squeezing the girth tentatively, even probing the pee slit with her tiny forefinger until I shifted away from her with discomfort. Her gentle explorations brought me to throbbing fullness as my gonads crept tightly towards my groin.
“Is that as big as it gets,” she queried breathlessly.
“Pretty much,” I replied, awash in her gentle stimulation.
“That’s manageable,” she replied stroking the shaft in apparent fascination of the way the head moved back and forth. “I think it would feel wonderful in me.”
“I’m sure it would!” I said and smiled as her gaze met mine. “Everything OK?”
“Could be better,” she quipped, still stroking the exposed flesh with gentle up and down motions. “When will Andy return?”
I suddenly chilled and quickly pulled my pants up over my rapidly wilting meat. Somehow, I wasn’t ready to have my best friend walk in on his twin Sister doing the tango on his best friend. Almost on queue, Andy strolled in the door with his hands full of grocery bags and a stick of licorice hanging out of his mouth (he loved black licorice twists). I scrambled to help with the remainder of the groceries still in the car while Amy sat glumly on the couch and focused on the unfolding TV drama. We talked a bit about the weekend and Andy thought it would be best to get home before his old lady threw a fit. He promised to return alone in the morning. With a gentle peck on Amy’s cheek, he was out the door and headed home. Amy and I were alone.
“I’ve never been with a man before,” she stammered as a delicate blush crept into her face. “I’ve slept with a few girls but never with a man.”
I was at a loss for words and at times that’s a good thing. I plopped down on the couch next to her and framed her face with my hands before planting a soul full kiss on those beautiful lips. She melted like a chocolate bar in the Sahara and pulled me in for another lip lock. It was quite easy to slide the gown off her shoulders but a bit more of a challenge to pull down the moistened panties. Her pussy was beautiful and obviously tight. As my hand spread her moistened labia partially obscured by a thick crown of hair, she sighed and closed her eyes, spreading her thighs with anticipation. I quickly removed my threads and dove onto the two breasts that had plagued my active thoughts from the moment I first gazed upon them in the back seat of the car. They tasted better than I could ever have imagined. Her throaty moans attested to their sensitivity and years of improper attention. Impulsively, she grabbed my head and damned near pulled me into her chest cavity as her pussy rubbed frantically against my thigh. Two ear shattering orgasms later, she finally released her grip on my head and her body collapsed in exhaustion. I finally was able to take a deep breath of air. Never could figure out those guys who got off by strangulation much less women who got off simply by having their jugs sucked on!
Expectations would get thrown into the recycle bin that night as she rolled me on to the floor, and positioned herself over my torso in the throes of unbridled lust. Guiding my cock into the fur covered folds, she slowly lowered herself on to my defenseless organ with her head thrown back and her eyes tightly shut. It is hard to describe the sensations a virgin pussy can bring to the sensitive glans of a passion driven penis. Smooth, silky, warm, delicious, tight are just a few of the sensations that swept through my groin as Amy slid slowly down my organ. Although it was the first intrusion into her femininity, she handled the invasion stoically; trembling only slightly as my hypersensitive organ slowly tore through her hymen and into the previously unexplored depths of her womanhood. Fighting every muscle in my body, I lay still as the overwhelming stimulation triggered an extremely powerful cum shot into her throbbing womb. Damn it felt good.
It felt even better as my essence filled her virginal void and she shrieked and her vaginal walls contracted unmercifully signaling another orgasm. A thin stream of her essence squirted from somewhere deep within her folds and bathed my torso. Neither of us moved. The pain/pleasure was way too intense and lasted way beyond the final orgasmic twitches our bodies released. So intense was the stimulation that I remained hard even as she began to move slowly on my torso several minutes later. With just a few brief strokes, she went over the top again and again until her delicious body collapsed on top of me, knocking all the air out of my lungs. Exhaustion set in.
Sometime later, as I held her trembling body close to me she whispered “Is this your idea of therapy,” in my ear.
“With a few modifications, it is,” I murmured, as my penis slipped from the heavenly orifice with a gush of blood, cum, and her fragrant female essence. She moaned longingly and slowly rose to her knees, her hand cradling the sticky stump that had so recently filled and fulfilled her orgasmic longings. I rose with her and we showered together before climbing into the warmth of her flannel sheets to make them sticky.
Morning arrived too soon with Amy snuggled in my arms and my cock safely nestled in the new found sheath it now considered home.
“I could get used to this,” Amy murmured as she nibbled my ear.
I caressed her smooth shoulders and silky hair.
Even though lost in lover’s bliss, I jumped when Andy came through the door and discovered us wrapped up together. He smiled and took off his shoes before climbing onto the bed next to Amy.
“The Family wants to see you as soon as you feel up to it,” he offered quietly.
“I don’t have to go back to the institute?”
“No, I explained what happened and they seem completely sympathetic. Dad says he’ll get it straightened out with the authorities. So Amy, what do you wanna do?”
“I want to live with your friend and make babies,” she replied meekly.
Andy turned to me and smiled. “Ball’s in your court, stud.”
I winked at him and said; “Babies aren’t all that bad if they like hamburgers.
Andy looked depressed when I picked him up on the way to work. Normally he was an outgoing person, but today he was quiet and moody making the short drive a very long one. It wasn’t until lunch time that I was able to coax him from his shell to learn his beloved twin sister had been committed to the mental hospital outside of town. I had met Amy at several family functions over the past several years and she, unlike her brother Andy, was shy and reserved. Unremarkable in appearance, Amy hid behind large framed glasses and conservative attire far more suited to a spinster librarian than the legal secretary position she filled at the county courthouse. The medical report claimed that she was found by two coworkers, sitting in front of her fried computer staring at an empty monitor.
Andy had always confided in me since the day we met when we were both hired on the same as system analysts. Since I was the only single guy remaining in the office, Andy invited me to many of his family functions where we grew to be best friends although his wife never really hit it off very well with me. She was always kind of aloof anyways, and I learned that she was not only self-centered but below zero frigid also, a combination that lacked any personal appeal from myself, and provoked grudging tolerance from most of the other folks in the family. Andy persevered, hoping she would gradually change, but would always confide in Amy or myself when his commitment began to wane. Now, with Amy in the hospital, Andy became more and more despondent with each passing day despite my best reinforcing efforts. So a week later, when I dropped Andy off at the hospital, I parked the car and escorted him in a gesture of solidarity.
I really wasn’t prepared for the bevy of “loonies” we encountered on the way to Amy’s room on the third floor although I suspect that if I was forced to stay for any length of time, I’d be crazy too. The walls were all unnaturally white and undecorated, with the overpowering scent of bleach permeating the aging structure. It was difficult to determine the difference between staff and victims outside of the staff’s unimaginative uniforms. The residents displayed behavior I’ve only ever seen in “B” movies and beyond, making me wonder if it would have been better to remain in the car. As a side note, who in the hell names a mental hospital “Whispering Meadows?”
After dodging an army of “Twilight Zone” wannabes, an orderly resembling “Lurch” from the Adams Family let us in to Amy’s room. She was laying on a gurney; face up staring at the ceiling without blinking. Covered with a thin white cotton sheet, she could have easily passed for a fresh corpse in a morgue. Andy broke down immediately upon seeing her and I surveyed the austere room with nothing but a small window and a single plastic chair strategically placed by Amy’s side. Listening to Andy’s sobs as I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder was heart rendering. I could only imagine what had passed between them through the years, and felt helpless. The door opened and a pudgy nurse with a well practiced smile advised Andy the Doctor wanted to speak with him about his Sister. With a slow nod Andy regained his composure somewhat and shuffled from the room with the nurse. The door closed with a definitive “click” that filled the tiny chamber leaving me alone with someone (or something) I regrettably had never taken the opportunity to really know.
My mind was still awash with all the sensory inputs I’d just encountered. I looked down at the almost lifeless form of Amy. She really was attractive without her glasses with her dark doe eyes offset by creamy alabaster skin. Not fat, she was well structured with firm little breasts that made well defined cones in the sheet covering her motionless body. Here was a young and vibrant creature that was probably writing something secretive to a friend on Facebook one moment, then turned into a mindless vegetable in the next. What could have traumatized a person so severely on a computer monitor? I had studied a little entry level psychology in college to fulfill my humanities requirements, but didn’t wander too deep into the science as some of the negative behaviors hit pretty close to home. But this behavior was off the charts for me and I just sat in stunned silence waiting for Andy to return.
Her incessant stare became unnerving, and before long I was staring at the same spot on the ceiling. It was a quarter sized yellow discoloration that was barely detectable in the otherwise unremarkable sea of off white. Feeling my neck strain, I swung the chair around and lay my head adjacent to hers for more careful study. “I remember doing this as a kid,” I remarked aloud, “You can see anything you want – I see Aunt Mabel’s naval!” From the corner of my eye, I saw her blink.
Just then, a nurse straight out of the horror movies came in with a tray with a small translucent cup filled with pills, water and a bowl of gruel. Maybe gruel isn’t a very good description; it looked more like a bowl of recycled green pea spew from the Exorcist. Without a whisper of greeting, she cranked the bed so Amy was in a sitting position to feed her the pills and force some water down her throat. Her administration was way to clinical and made me cringe as Andy slowly wandered in with an ashen face.
“Amy’s not responding to therapy,” Andy muttered on the verge of an apparent crying jag.
“You wanna feed her?” The wicked nurse of the north queried unceremoniously.
“Sure,” Andy volunteered as he sank heavily into the chair I had hurriedly vacated when the nurse arrived. I excused myself as the fight or flight response kicked in. For one thing, I couldn’t watch Andy force feed his beloved Sister with that stomach churning slop. For another, Andy’s depression was similar to my own, and I needed some fresh perspective. Weaving my way through the captive loonies, I darted through the side door and into the fresh air of freedom. Alarm horns that I had apparently set off with my fire escape exit were blaring amid muffled exclamations from within the brick fortress.
A short distance from the institute was a burger joint that tempted my patronage when we arrived earlier, and I beat feet to its welcoming smells and offerings. I ordered some burgers and fries to go and paced nervously as the employees scurried around behind the griddles. With my heartfelt thanks, I stuffed the gut bombs in my shirt and ran back into the institute brushing aside the flustered security goon who was still trying to calm several of the victims. Darting up the stairs in a seldom seen display of my athleticism, I raced into Amy’s dungeon. Apparently stunned, Andy was still sitting next to Amy with a spoon held close to her tightly sealed lips. Quickly closing the door, I spilled the burgers onto Amy’s tray grabbing one for myself.
Andy gasped and I froze as Amy slowly reached for a burger and gingerly unwrapped it. As she took her first bite, she smiled. Andy started to cry as Amy and I finished our burgers.
Let’s get her out of here,” I stated emphatically.
“Amen,” breathed Andy with obvious relief. He quickly scooped her from the bed as I stuffed the remaining burgers into my shirt and opened the door. We darted into the hall and out the same exit I had used earlier as Amy slipped from her Brothers grasp and dashed barefoot down the stairs taking the lead. Horns were blaring, and people were yelling as we crammed ourselves into the car and made a squealing tire, made for the movies getaway.
We headed back towards town, taking the side streets to minimize detection while we caught our breaths.
“Let’s do that again,” exclaimed Amy and we all broke into laughter. Through the rear view I saw her peel off her flimsy gown and unfasten her bra releasing a deluge of partially digested pills onto the floor and giving me my first glorious view of her perfectly formed tits. Barely handfuls with delightfully tiny nipples that begged to be nibbled, they stood out firm and proud. Her eyes caught mine in the mirror and she dropped her arms so I could focus on their natural beauty. Damn near drove off the road until Andy hurriedly reached over and straightened the wheel.
“What are we going to do with her,” Andy queered as Amy quickly donned her unflattering gown and I rapidly returned to reality.
“Ask her,” I retorted.
“I want to go home,” Amy offered meekly. “Mom and Dad will take me back and anyone else will have to prove their innocence to kidnapping charges.”
“You shouldn’t be alone for awhile, Amy,” I offered.
“Why don’t you and Andy take turns staying with me,” she replied. “That would work,” I replied as Andy agreed with nod of his head.
“What happened, Amy?” The question escaped despite my resolve to wait until she felt like talking about the incident.
Amy stared silently out the window for a few moments while Andy and I held our breath collectively in anticipation. A faint thin blush travelled up her neck to cover her face as the silence became almost unbearable. “My friend Sherri sent a picture in my e-mail of a man’s ‘thingy’ that was as big as my arm. As I looked at it the computer made a strange sound and I don’t remember anything after that until I saw you staring at the ceiling next to me. Who is Aunt Mabel?”
I hesitated for a few minutes, trying to visualize King Dong terrorizing innocent unsuspecting victims on the net before I responded. “She lives in Kansas and is fat enough to squash people merely by sitting on them! She always wears these bikini tops and shorts during the summer exposing a stretch marked cavern where her bully button is hidden. She stepped on my foot once and it looked like Daffy Ducks paw for several weeks.”
“Graphic,” Amy muttered between giggles. “She should work for the highway department as a steam roller!”
“Always thought she could be a can crusher at the local recycle center; you know, just roll around with a cupcake in her hand,” I countered.
“Or maybe even. . .” she was cut off by Andy.
“Come on guys, surely she has some redeeming qualities.”
“She’s a great cook if you get to the cookies before she eats them all,” I offered as Amy and I broke into another round of laughter.
“Good thing were home,” Andy stated as we drove into the parking lot of Amy’s apartment; “I’d have to turn you in to the SPCA!”
Amy dug around in the loose dirt under her bathroom window until she found a little canister with a spare key in it. We all entered the apartment and Amy threw open the windows as I collected the petrified garbage and Andy cleaned out the moldy items in the refrigerator. Amy broke out a bottle of red wine, and we sat around making plans for the future. As it started to get dark, Andy headed out to get some groceries, and I fiddled with the TV, finally settling on reruns of the “Golden Girls.” Amy snuggled next to me, finding solstice under my arm.
After a long silence Amy turned to me inquisitively. “I want to see you’re thingy,” she murmured trembling slightly.
I choked on the sip of wine I had just taken. “Amy, you know what happened last time you gazed upon a man’s reproductive apparatus. Granted it was probably a grafted elephant trunk, but nonetheless. . .”
“Please, I need to see a normal man.”
“Surely you’ve seen. . .” Her hand was on my fly and ‘no’ was apparently an unacceptable response. Fumbling with the zipper unsuccessfully, I finally eased her hand back to her lap and released my trousers, pushing them down over my knees. She gasped, and took my thickening organ in her hand, studying it intently. Her fingers probed the glans and shaft, tracing the veins and squeezing the girth tentatively, even probing the pee slit with her tiny forefinger until I shifted away from her with discomfort. Her gentle explorations brought me to throbbing fullness as my gonads crept tightly towards my groin.
“Is that as big as it gets,” she queried breathlessly.
“Pretty much,” I replied, awash in her gentle stimulation.
“That’s manageable,” she replied stroking the shaft in apparent fascination of the way the head moved back and forth. “I think it would feel wonderful in me.”
“I’m sure it would!” I said and smiled as her gaze met mine. “Everything OK?”
“Could be better,” she quipped, still stroking the exposed flesh with gentle up and down motions. “When will Andy return?”
I suddenly chilled and quickly pulled my pants up over my rapidly wilting meat. Somehow, I wasn’t ready to have my best friend walk in on his twin Sister doing the tango on his best friend. Almost on queue, Andy strolled in the door with his hands full of grocery bags and a stick of licorice hanging out of his mouth (he loved black licorice twists). I scrambled to help with the remainder of the groceries still in the car while Amy sat glumly on the couch and focused on the unfolding TV drama. We talked a bit about the weekend and Andy thought it would be best to get home before his old lady threw a fit. He promised to return alone in the morning. With a gentle peck on Amy’s cheek, he was out the door and headed home. Amy and I were alone.
“I’ve never been with a man before,” she stammered as a delicate blush crept into her face. “I’ve slept with a few girls but never with a man.”
I was at a loss for words and at times that’s a good thing. I plopped down on the couch next to her and framed her face with my hands before planting a soul full kiss on those beautiful lips. She melted like a chocolate bar in the Sahara and pulled me in for another lip lock. It was quite easy to slide the gown off her shoulders but a bit more of a challenge to pull down the moistened panties. Her pussy was beautiful and obviously tight. As my hand spread her moistened labia partially obscured by a thick crown of hair, she sighed and closed her eyes, spreading her thighs with anticipation. I quickly removed my threads and dove onto the two breasts that had plagued my active thoughts from the moment I first gazed upon them in the back seat of the car. They tasted better than I could ever have imagined. Her throaty moans attested to their sensitivity and years of improper attention. Impulsively, she grabbed my head and damned near pulled me into her chest cavity as her pussy rubbed frantically against my thigh. Two ear shattering orgasms later, she finally released her grip on my head and her body collapsed in exhaustion. I finally was able to take a deep breath of air. Never could figure out those guys who got off by strangulation much less women who got off simply by having their jugs sucked on!
Expectations would get thrown into the recycle bin that night as she rolled me on to the floor, and positioned herself over my torso in the throes of unbridled lust. Guiding my cock into the fur covered folds, she slowly lowered herself on to my defenseless organ with her head thrown back and her eyes tightly shut. It is hard to describe the sensations a virgin pussy can bring to the sensitive glans of a passion driven penis. Smooth, silky, warm, delicious, tight are just a few of the sensations that swept through my groin as Amy slid slowly down my organ. Although it was the first intrusion into her femininity, she handled the invasion stoically; trembling only slightly as my hypersensitive organ slowly tore through her hymen and into the previously unexplored depths of her womanhood. Fighting every muscle in my body, I lay still as the overwhelming stimulation triggered an extremely powerful cum shot into her throbbing womb. Damn it felt good.
It felt even better as my essence filled her virginal void and she shrieked and her vaginal walls contracted unmercifully signaling another orgasm. A thin stream of her essence squirted from somewhere deep within her folds and bathed my torso. Neither of us moved. The pain/pleasure was way too intense and lasted way beyond the final orgasmic twitches our bodies released. So intense was the stimulation that I remained hard even as she began to move slowly on my torso several minutes later. With just a few brief strokes, she went over the top again and again until her delicious body collapsed on top of me, knocking all the air out of my lungs. Exhaustion set in.
Sometime later, as I held her trembling body close to me she whispered “Is this your idea of therapy,” in my ear.
“With a few modifications, it is,” I murmured, as my penis slipped from the heavenly orifice with a gush of blood, cum, and her fragrant female essence. She moaned longingly and slowly rose to her knees, her hand cradling the sticky stump that had so recently filled and fulfilled her orgasmic longings. I rose with her and we showered together before climbing into the warmth of her flannel sheets to make them sticky.
Morning arrived too soon with Amy snuggled in my arms and my cock safely nestled in the new found sheath it now considered home.
“I could get used to this,” Amy murmured as she nibbled my ear.
I caressed her smooth shoulders and silky hair.
Even though lost in lover’s bliss, I jumped when Andy came through the door and discovered us wrapped up together. He smiled and took off his shoes before climbing onto the bed next to Amy.
“The Family wants to see you as soon as you feel up to it,” he offered quietly.
“I don’t have to go back to the institute?”
“No, I explained what happened and they seem completely sympathetic. Dad says he’ll get it straightened out with the authorities. So Amy, what do you wanna do?”
“I want to live with your friend and make babies,” she replied meekly.
Andy turned to me and smiled. “Ball’s in your court, stud.”
I winked at him and said; “Babies aren’t all that bad if they like hamburgers.
