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I flew into LAX and when I came through the gate I saw Brittany standing there. She was even more beautiful than her pictures had allowed me to believe. I approached her and the closer I got to her the more intimidating she became. I watched her face light up in a smile that I interpreted as one which said, ‘this is going to be easier than I thought to break this one into little pieces.’ We hugged and I thought she was going to break my ribs or knock me out right there in the airport; but, she eased up and whispered in my ear, “that was just a little sample of my arm strength. I’m going to destroy you with them and then break you in half with my long, strong legs. You belong to my muscles.” I could only smile and respond as any male would when that close to a beautiful, powerful woman.

We walked down to get my baggage and Brittany made sure that she walked in front of me so I could watch the flex of those gorgeous legs of hers. We talked while waiting for my bags and she would verbally tease me every chance she got. My bags finally came out and I pulled them off of the conveyor belt. They were heavy and I suggested we find a porter to take them out for us. Brittany said, “don’t be silly, I’m stronger than any of them ever thought of being. I’ll carry the bag you think is so heavy; do you think you can manage the camera?” And she picked up my bag as if it were empty and off we went. When we had the bags loaded into the car she took my hand and placed it on her arm then she flexed. The muscle exploded and my hand could not fit around it. Brittany said, “this is what a real arm feels like and you are going to be feeling it a lot around your scrawny little neck and weak body as I crush you into unconsciousness.”

We arrived at my hotel, checked in and the bell man took us to the room. I had gotten a suite as Brittany had instructed me to. After the bell man had been tipped and he left Brittany walked over to me; wearing her 4″ heels she stood about 6’2″. I looked up into her smiling face as she raised her right arm and flexed her muscle in my face. She then grabbed a handful of hair and wrapped her arm around my neck in a headlock. “Put your hand on my arm and feel how hard my female muscle gets as I knock you out.” I touched her arm and the next thing I knew was Brittany straddling my body as I lay on the floor. When she saw me open my eyes she laughed and said, “You only lasted 3 seconds but I won’t put you out so fast from now on. I want you to squirm and cry and beg some. Now sit up and put your neck between my thighs. You may feel them as I crush you out again.”

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“Ohesotte nani?” I asked on the way to the bathroom, examining my navel. Beth, reading on the floor, ignored the question.

From the door of the bathroom, I looked down at her for probably twenty seconds before I said, quietly with a hint of humor, something completely out of character for me: “Spread your legs.” This she reacted to, but only barely. She lifted and spread her knees so I could peer down her skirt. She continued to read.

Beth and I had taken to [tag]teasing[/tag] each other and, behind her book, I could see a slight mischievous grin. Turnabout being fair play, I turned my back and closed myself into the bathroom. We were going to be late for an important Japanese quiz, but I didn’t much care. I counted to two hundred after I had flushed, then made my exit.

She was still reading.

Still lying with her legs apart, she waited about five heartbeats before looking at me. My belt was still unfastened, and she, with the book held nonchalantly in one hand, said “Do you want some help with that?”

“Spread your legs wider,” I suggested; it was not an order.

Still holding on to the book, she pulled her skirt up enough to allow her to comply. Her mischievous grin was not so slight anymore. “I’d very much like help with this,” I said. She arched an eyebrow. “Please,” I finished.

She rose to her knees and ran her hands up my thighs to my belt. She ignored the belt and opened the buttons on my jeans. I tried to take a scolding tone, but my smile leaked through: “You’re going to make us late for our quiz.” Her only response was a “hmm” and her fingers slowly rubbing me through my underwear.

While continuing to softly stroke me, she maneuvered me into a chair. One hand slid over the top of my underwear and grasped me firmly, her hand cool against me. She began to work me very, very slowly while looking straight into my eyes with the look that she knew drove me crazy.

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Jerry Gilman yawned and wiped his face with a towel. He stared blearily at his watch. Slowly, his eyes focused on the face. 2:30 A.M. He carefully put down the soldering iron and stared at the device on his bench.

The Amplifier didn’t look like much. A tangle of wiring and integrated circuits. In the center was one of the new room-temperature superconducting chips. He’d had to scrounge it from the University’s Supplies Department…well, he thought…steal it, really.

The idea had come to him one day as he worked on his PhD thesis. He was working on a double doctorate, Cognitive Science and Electronics. His thesis had to do with ‘coupling’ to brain signals. Originally, he’d expected the work to lead to better EEG machines.

But a breakthrough had happened. Jerry had realized that there were two sides to communicating with the brain. And the new superconductors…He had been working like a fiend for two months. He hadn’t mentioned it to his thesis advisors–the implications were too huge. So he’d had to pretend to be working on his original thesis. This amounted to two full-time jobs, and the effort was beginning to tell on him.

He shut everything down and went to his apartment to crash. He slept for 48 hours straight, then returned to the lab.

In the light of day, the Amplifier looked even less imposing. His calculations and tests said it should work. But would it?

He placed the Amp into a small plastic box and put the unit in his pocket. In the other pocket went the heavy battery pack which would power it. Grunting, he made a note to work on minimizing the power requirements. A fine wire ran under his shirt, up his neck, and to a small adhesive patch on his temple. He covered the patch with a cap.

Inspecting himself in the mirror, he decided the set-up was unobtrusive enough. Only the thin wire was visible. He strolled outside onto the campus. It was a sunny, bright day, and the green quadrangle was filled with students. Jerry switched on the Amplifier. He staggered, almost fell to his knees. A wave of thoughts and emotions surged through his mind. Frantically, he fumbled for the gain control. At last, he had adjusted the Amp so that he could deal with the input. (click to read entire story…)

My wife and I like to keep our sex life varied. We think it keeps our marriage hot, exciting and alive. One of the things we like to do from time to time is show her body off to other men. I’m not totally sure why, but it seems to reinforce our knowledge that she is still attractive to others, and I know it turns us both on. We like to think of it as a great form of foreplay. We also like to think that it’s our little way of making the world a happier place, because it also gives pleasure to others.

Once she even got a temporary job as a topless Go-Go dancer in a little, out of the way bar in a town about sixty miles away where we were sure she wouldn’t be seen by anyone we know. The place was pretty loosely run, in that the local management allowed the patrons a great deal of leeway in stuffing their one dollar tips well down the front of the dancers’ G-strings and grabbing a quick feel of their tits while they were at it. She only worked there for a week, and I used to sit right there at the bar during all her sets, closely watching her reactions and those of the male patrons. It really got me hot to see them touch her like that, and she told me it used to get her turned on as well, but that’s another story.

Arlene is a petite little woman, with long, naturally auburn hair and a picture perfect 36B-24-35 body that she’s kept in perfect condition over the years. As a matter of fact, I think her body looks better now that it did when we were first married. She keeps it in shape by carefully watching what she eats and exercising strenuously, both vertically and horizontally. When she’s in the right mood, which comes pretty often, she has an almost insatiable appetite for sex and anything related to sex. I’d like to tell you about what happened one of those times. (click to read entire story…)

Chapter 4

Both men were working as a team now. One with finger busy slipping in and out of her cunt, while the other petted the clit standing from the soft lips of her pussy. Lisa was coming continuously with both pairs of male fingers fucking her cunt.

Suddenly, she dropped her eyes from the screen. The seat in front of her was occupied, but not in the usual manner.

In fact, the owner of the seat was not facing the screen at all.

He had turned and was staring directly between her wide open thighs, as her feet rested high on the seat, exposing all of her legs, her soft wet cunt, and, her curvaceous ass as well.

He was staring deeply into her opened thighs, watching as the two busy hands and twirling fingers were fucking her squelching wet cunt.

Her instinctive female reaction took over. Her open thighs snapped tightly together, protecting her pussy from the man’s view, pulled at her skirt and drew it down over her pussy and legs.

Bill insistently pulled her dress back up over her belly, exposing her wet cunt, putting pressure on the inside of her thigh to make her open her legs wider again. She realized that Bill had probably noticed the newcomer before she had, knowing he was watching her cunt. At first, she was tempted to fight Bill’s pressure on her thigh to open her legs, but than on second thought, she relaxed and spread her legs, moving higher on the seat to bring her hot steamy cunt closer to his staring face.

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