"Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 4. Date: 19 Apr 89 06:41:12 GMT CONTENTS: A Letter from the Editor Reflexology Spread-Eagle (mild bondage) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- A LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Ugh... TAXES! Well, better late than never I guess. I almost feel like this issue isn't really needed given the recent resurgence of talk about SEX in alt.SEX (difficult to believe, but fortunately it is true). This issue is somewhat smaller than previous issues since I've heard that the 32K+ issues might not be making it through some of the gateways (too fat to fit through the door, so to speak). Also, I posted an intro to alt.sex recently. Some of the information, particularly the information about the maintainer of the back-issues archive, wasn't quite correct. The new intro is as follows: Commonly Asked Questions about "Electronic Erotica" 1. What is "Electronic Erotica" (aka eEros)? EEros is a periodical of reader-submitted erotic fiction. There's nothing wrong with true stories, but I will assume that everything I publish is fiction. 2. How can I get it? EEros is published once a month (currently near the middle of the month) in the 'alt.sex' newsgroup on usenet. 3. Is there a mailing list? Yes, but the resources are VERY limited for supporting it. The issues will always be posted in 'alt.sex', so if you can read the newsgroup, DO NOT ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE MAILING LIST. 4. How do I get back issues? I don't have the time or resources to fill requests for previous issues, so don't ask. At least one kind soul on the net has offered to make back issues available for anonymous ftp from unocss.unl.edu (129.93.1.11) in the 'pub/altsex/eros' directory. The maintainer of that archive is Tim Russell or . If you don't have ftp access, I'm sorry. Maybe someone will set up a way to request back issues via email. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- REFLEXOLOGY I had finished the last of my Friday reflexology classes, and had my certificate in hand. The crudely-executed Gothic calligraphy in which my name was etched was smudged peacock blue on the right side, but it bothered me little, as this wasn't something I was going to have on the wall of my law practice. Things were going smoothly in general, and my girlfriend and I had plans for that evening. The phone had rung at home Wednesday night, as I was slipping in and out of light napping to the melodies of an old Tull record I found in the basement. I groaned in unison with my joints as I stumbled up from the easy chair to the telephone. "Hello," I murmured. "Hi," came the sultry voice from the other end. Kari may not be a swimsuit model--a bit too thin--but she has a voice that could launch a thousand ships. Or whatever sort of playthings the top brass are using nowadays. "I'd like to see you." "I'm free Friday after about five. S'that okay with you?" I fumbled for the iced tea in the refrigerator as I balanced the cordless phone against my shoulder with the side of my head. It hissed as I closed the refrigerator door and turned to the counter. "Sounds good. Pick me up about seven?" "Sure thing, babe. Oh, and I got my reflexology certificate for massage today. I think I'll have it framed. It's got that fresh-from-the-computer-printer look." "Sounds great. You want to try out your new skills?" she said breathily. Wow. You ever have one of those conversations when you'd just get an erection from talking sweet with your lover? Well, it didn't matter WHAT we talked about, her voice did that to my poor hormones ALL THE TIME. "I'll surprise you. Love you." I paused, remembered I forgot the ice. Could have melted it in my hands anyway at this point. "I love you too. See you Friday night." "Be there with bells on." I turned toward the fridge and the phone spat angrily at my ear. "That makes for an interesting mental picture," she said; we lauged and hung up. We almost always end short conversations with those lines; it's just something that clicks. I put the ice cubes in the half-full glass of tea and filled the rest of it up. I took a sip, traced over the "Ball" etching on the side with my middle finger, and mulled over my plans for Friday. I got to her house at a few minutes before seven (I always liked to chat with her folks for a while as she finished doing whatever it is she did before going out--it keeps 'em guessing). Kari got downstairs at about a quarter after, gave her parents quick goodbyes and hugs, and we pulled out of the driveway. After seeing some really poor mystery movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Pee Wee Herman, we ended up going back to my house. My parents had taken one of their infamous weekend boating trips with my brother and sister; that put them out of the picture for the time being. We stepped in, and after closing and locking the front door behind us, I took Kari's jacket and hung it on the rack in the corner. I think this was the point at which I realized that Kari was serious about this massage thing, since she had no bra on under the clingy tank top she had on. She NEVER goes without a bra unless she means for something to happen. She turned around, noticed what I had noticed, and lowered her eyelids seductively. From between slightly parted lips, she intoned huskily, "Now, how about that massage? I've been waiting forever for you to finish those classes." I smiled a bit in return, and slipping an arm around her waist and cradling her chin in the crook of my other hand, planted angel kisses on her forehead, her nose, her lower lip. I led her to the couch in the living room. Without saying a word, she pulled off the tank top, her round nipples hard and jutting from small, firm breasts. She shed her boots and pants, and then spent a long and, I must say, greatly appreciated moment removing her panties. I knew, though, that if I remained in control, this would be quite a memorable experience for both of us. She lay down on her back in the soft upholstery of the couch and sighed, "Do my feet-- I LOVE foot massage." She lifted her right leg in invitation. Sitting down on the couch by her legs and putting them in my lap, I began. Here is where all those tedious reflexology classes, taken with women going through mid-life crises and looking for some way to unwind, paid off. Starting off slow, I traced the curves of her foot, as she lay contentedly back with her hands over her head, baring herself to my ravenous gaze. When I finally got some unmistakable body signals from Kari, I decided to turn up the heat a little. I knew where to hit the crossnerves that triggered in her breasts and thighs, and over the course of about five minutes, she began to sigh and moan, licking her lips sensuously. After about ten more minutes, I moved to her left foot. I had hardly gotten past the sole of that dainty extremity when she sat up, grasped my neck, and dragged me down to the warm, soft repose of her bosom. "Take me," she groaned ecstatically. Who was I to argue? I moved my hand up her side, lightly feathering my touch up her calf and hip, fluttering to her breast. I took the nipple in my mouth, cradled it between my teeth and tongue, and then sucked it with my lips. She cried out softly, and I gazed quickly at her to make sure I hadn't been leaning too hard against the leg in my lap. (We were still at that stage of experience where things like that happened, and I had no intention of ruining this situation.) I saw a look of nothing but unbridled bliss on her face. This only served to send my penis to an almost unbearable hardness; but I was determined to wait it out. I moved to the other nipple, and her hands moved down my back. "Take off your clothes, darling," she cooed, and I complied readily. Moving back to her side, I kissed her firmly. She began to pant as I circled her ear with my lips, moving down her neck to the crook of her collarbone, where I ran my tongue across to her shoulder. My hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, between her legs and over her curly pubic hair, cupping her swelling mons, massaging her tenderness. I traced a little trail with my lips down to her erect nipple, and she stifled another cry with her hand as I circled down to her navel. She tried to move my head between her legs to her eager sex, but I gently took her hand, kissed the palm, and began running my tongue down the inside of her thigh toward her calf. I finished my circuit of her leg by planting kisses on her toes and sole, and she gasped as I moved quickly up her thigh again, this time going for the one. I licked my lips. She made no effort this time to cover her scream of pleasure with her hand as I kissed her moist clitoris, bringing it up into my mouth with deliberate slowness. I sent my tongue probing deep within her, ever so slowly, trying to balance my member's urgence against my desire to tease. I pushed and prodded, probed and punished for what seemed to be eternity, breathing her need, enveloped in her lust, as her breath hitched and loped like a crazed runner. She begged me to enter her, and finally I acquiesced to our heated passion. I moved up against her, and kissed her pert breasts, and I noticed that I was starting to pant heavily. She ran her finger over my lips and down my torso to my throbbing penis, sighed as I placed it against her heated thighs. I entered her again with carefully timed leisure, and though she moved her hips up and in to meet me, I held back to stretch the entry time. She cupped one hand on my buttock and held the other to her head, crying out, "Oh please, I want you inside me." Finally, I had hilted her, and drew back slightly faster. I cycled this way, slowly, in, out with almost torturingly slow motion, until I could stand it no longer. I plunged into her greedy vagina with reckless and long- denied fire, and she kneaded my buttocks, looking into my eyes with smoldering wet embers; drew me down to drown in her lips. I don't know exactly how long we moved against each other; ultimately I slowed again, and speeded up, trying to draw out the impending climax (I believe at one point I had to resort to going through my grade-school multiplication tables in my head to avoid that onrushing freight train of sensation). She ran her tongue over my earlobes, begging me to fill her again and again, and, unable to bear the grasp of her heated passion any longer, I spilled deliciously over the brink of orgasm, inhaling the musk of our union, finding solace in our bodily connection. We let that secret part of ourselves fly free; we intertwined in that moment, and it seems that the room could have been lit solely by our frenzied emotion. We collapsed together, and I took her in my arms, whispering to her, "I love you so much." She echoed, nibbling my ear, "I love you," and we simply lay there for a while, silently contemplating each other's forms. And then we slept. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- SPREAD-EAGLE You take my hand and lead me across the large, dimly-lit, unfamiliar apartment into an even darker room. I can barely distinguish the outlines of a brass bed in the corner. You push a switch and the room fills with a soft, warm light. We walk toward the bed. I take off my over-sized black T-shirt, and I am naked underneath except for the gold chain around my neck. You gently push me onto the bed, tie a silk scarf around my left wrist, and tie the scarf to the bed-post. You move over me on the bed and tie up my right wrist. You kiss me gently on the lips and stroke my hair for a while. Then you move down and tie my ankles to the two posts at the foot of the bed. I am filled with a strange mixture of feelings: expectancy, helplessness, tension, fear, and surging, overflowing desire. I turn my head toward the wall, close my eyes, and lightly bite my lower lip. *** I tie your right ankle to a bed post. The silk scarf gently brushes against your silky flesh. And I can feel uncontrollable desire rising within me. I then tie your left ankle. I bend down and softly kiss your foot. Inside the arch at first, then I let my tongue slide between your toes. Back and forth. You begin to strain against the scarves. A gasp. I move upward along your leg, dropping kisses as I go along. It's an interminable journey that ends up where your wonderful, smooth... But not yet. I lick your clitoris once, ever so furtively. And move on. Your breasts. Firm, perfect half-spheres. Your nipples. Very, very hard. I gently kiss one, then the other. I lean on you, pin you down as you lie naked, defenseless, spread-eagled. I suck on your nipple. You turn toward me. Then toward the wall. Then back. A giggle. A sigh. A gasp. I suck, lick, kiss, then ... lightly ... bite just once. You shriek. But your wet lips and misty eyes tell me you want me, just as much as I want you. I start licking you. Just one long, long lick. From your nipple ... to your arm pit ... along your arm ... the palm of your hand (You're in mine. I love it.) ... I suck your fingers one by one. You tug and strain. The old brass bed won't let go. You smell of desire. *** I am made of desire. It is as if everything else has disappeared. I want you, I keep wanting more of you. I keep wanting more of everything you do, but you move on. You leave me up there, on the edge of a scream. I want to hold on to you, to guide your hands, your mouth, but I am helpless. I strain against the scarves, and thrust my hips forward. You pin me back down. I feel your finger between my labia, gently stroking while your mouth slides up my belly. You kiss my breasts, and give my left nipple another gentle bite. I want to scream but you won't let me do even that. You cover my mouth with your lips. My scream becomes a long, helpless moan. I slide my tongue into your mouth, our tongues meet for a moment, then you pull away from my lips. I beg you with my eyes. "Please don't," I whisper, "please, I want to kiss you." But you won't listen. I close my eyes again. Your finger is joined by your thumb. You stroke my vulva rhythmically, giving my clit an occasional gentle squeeze. I begin to move my hips to your rhythm... I am ready to explode. Then, suddenly, you are gone. I open my eyes and search for you among the shadows. You are leaning against the farther wall, your arms crossed, watching me with a not-so-gentle smile on your lips. I writhe madly. I can't bear the helplessness anymore. I beg you with all my might to come back to me. But to no avail. *** I leave you to your misery and go to the kitchen. I come back with an ice cube and show it to you. You start writhing with anticipation. You beg me not to. I hold the ice cube with the tip of my fingers, just above your smooth, velvety pussy. As it melts slowly, I watch a drop form underneath, then fall. You gasp. It runs down your lips and disappears among your luscious folds. What I would give to be a drop of water now. Another one forms, hesitates a while, then takes a plunge. I move the ice cube around, taking special notice of your most sensitive spots. Then I lower it and touch your mons. I play with you a while, then glide it up, into your belly button and out again. You shriek and squirm. I move the ice around your nipples. You try to move, but you cannot. I put the ice in my mouth, then take it out and start eating you. Cold. Wet. I love eating you. I love it. I slide up towards you and without warning enter you. Ohhhhh. I bend down and start licking your nipples, playfully torturing them as I thrust in and out. First slowly, deeply, as you like it best. Then I speed up. You start wriggling madly. "Stop!" you gasp, "you are driving me crazy!" I slow down, but in my own time. I kiss your smooth arm pits, kiss your neck, suck on your ear lobes, tongue your ears. I pass my fingers through your hair, grab your head and start smothering you with kisses. As I thrust deeper, you start moaning. I can see your hands straining against the scarves, you are slowly tensing up. But I do not want you to come yet. I stop, smile at you -- no, no, a very gentle smile this time, loving, adoring, but playful -- and slowly pull out. You loose control and scream for me to stay. Too late... I'm out. *** I beg you in every language I know to let me come. "No," you say. "I'm afraid that is not possible right now. But you are allowed to make another wish and who knows, it might be granted." How can I wish for anything else when I am so consumed with the need to end this torture!? But then I realize that there are two needs, not one. I need to come, but independently, I want you close, I want to feel you inside me. "O.K.," I say. "Let me eat you, then." You look into my eyes, searchingly, for a moment; then you nod. I'm happy, but I wish I had my hands free to play with myself while I eat you. I know it is out of the question, so I don't even ask you to untie my hands (At least one? No, I don't think so). You kneel over my head and pass your feet under my outstretched arms. Then you lower yourself over my face and slide your cock into my mouth. This is a brand new sensation for me; I am so used to being in control while I eat you... Now I can't even move -- I am totally at your mercy. I feel more helpless and vulnerable than I have ever felt before. You slightly lift my head with one hand while holding on to the bed-post with the other and move slowly at first. I feel your hardness inside my mouth... I can smell you... it drives me mad! I squirm helplessly for a while, then my hips fall into rhythm with your slow thrusting. But I need more -- I need to be touched, to be helped... I moan. I open my eyes for a moment and look up at you. What I see turns me on even more than I already was (I had thought that was impossible). I would give anything to be allowed to come right now. Suddenly, your rhythm changes. You begin to move faster, to thrust deeper into my mouth. *** I hold your head and slide in and out of your mouth. I peek at your outstretched body. Very, very naked. Very, very taut. Your wrists fastened to the bedposts, your hands in helpless fists. Your ankles tied to the bedposts, stretching the scarves. Your hips imperceptibly arching, heaving, your bare pussy swollen and beckoning. I catch you looking at me. This will not do. I reach for another scarf and gently blindfold you. You want to protest, but with me in your mouth, you can only moan. I continue to thrust in and out. Your tongue... your tongue... How do you do that..? I am losing control. Shall I come? Not yet. I slow down. You want to keep moving, but I don't let you. The time is approaching. I slide out of you and move back, all the way to the edge of the bed. I stare at you. Your mouth half open, wet, glistening. Your chest heaving up and down. Your hips trying so desperately to move... and so unsuccessfully. I caress your legs, brush against your pussy (you are so wet!), cup your breasts (they are so hard!). You moan. The time is here. I love you. I want you. Now. *** I squirm and writhe desperately while I try to figure out what is to happen to me next You have moved away, I can't see you. I cannot take this anymore. I want you inside me. Now. You pull off my blindfold. You are on top of me once again. Our lips meet. I have an uncontrollable urge to wrap myself around you...my arms around your neck, my legs around your waist... But I can't. I writhe and press my pelvis against you, instead. You slide inside me in one smooth easy thrust. For a moment, I feel myself forced open...you are so hard and so thick... We continue to kiss passionately as you thrust inside me. Your rhythm quickens. I feel a wet warmth start up around my pelvis and slowly envelope my whole body. I feel like a stretched bow, ready to snap. You raise yourself on your hands, thrusting deeper and harder. I can feel the tension building up inside you, your eyes closed, your head thrown back. A scream escapes my mouth with the first convulsion, and is muffled as you gently press your hand over my mouth. I hang there for a few seconds, in sheer torment, unable to move as my instincts urge me to, and then the rest of the orgasm comes, so violently that I can feel tears running down my eyes. You tense up, let out a long moan as you come. I respond to every move you make inside me with yet another convulsion. How long does it take? I really don't know but by the end, I am almost unconscious. You lower your body over mine, breathless. We stay like that for a while, again, I have no idea how long. Then, you get up and untie me. As I curl up in your arms, in a swoon, I am already more than half way into planning my revenge. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of "Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 4. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [] Daryl VanHorne, editor, "Electronic Erotica" (eEros) SUBMISSIONS TO: eeros@dbnv.midgard.mn.org OR: {any backbone}!bungia!midgard!dbnv!eeros ALL FLAMES TO: /dev/null