Goldenrod Ch. 07


The ship’s mechanic had restored a lot of my confidence, but I still needed closure with what had happened at the sorority. How to get that I wasn’t sure. Karen had said she owned me, and whether or not that was true, I didn’t want to go through life believing it, no matter what I did on the weekends.

Watching a dance class diverted me because I have always loved the sight of women in tights, and the motion gave my mind something to work on without having to spin thoughts. My head filled with pirouettes, which warmed the heart and the loins. At the end of class one student walked to me while the others left. She carried a pair of sneakers and a bottle of water and wore a big bag on her shoulder. Her skin was like ivory and her hair was black like crow feathers. Over her blue leotard she had on a wide-necked sweater of the same color. The limbs that transported her were full, strong, and youthful.

“Are you Tom?”


“I’m Jasmine, Michelle’s friend. Hi.”


“Can you talk for a minute?”


She chewed her lip and cocked her head, with one eye squinting.

“Michelle said you take dick from women?”

“I have.”

“She said you like it, and that you’re really good. Well, that gets me hot, you see, and I’m by nature not too social, so I had to seize this opportunity. I’ve never tried it.”

“Do you have a roommate?”

“No,” she said.

“Let’s go to your place.”

“Okay,” she replied, beaming.

On the way there she annoyed me with warnings about her inexperience and how I’d need to show her what to do. Her apartment was small but expensively decorated with artifacts from various eras of her life, most to do with ballet.

“Should I, you know, put it on?”

“Yeah, Jasmine.” She removed her shoes one at a time and bolted for the nightstand drawer. The dildo was a light purple, and complemented her painted-on look invitingly.

“So, what now?”

“Got any fantasies? What turns you on about it?”

“I want you, a guy I mean, to suck me,” she said, gazing at the floor with slight panic. “I don’t know, I’ve always thought it belonged on me. Sorry, I’m not sure what else to say.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re right, it fits you beautifully. Why don’t you sit.” She took a seat in her desk chair, and posed a blue leg on its wheeled foot, to give a pleasing visual background to her lavender length. Her hand rested on the raised thigh.

“How’s this?” she asked challengingly. I walked to her, and knelt.

“That’s enough talking,” I said quietly. Then I kissed the smooth, featureless head of her cock. I blew on it, nuzzled, licked slowly, and deep-throated. She arched her spine with arousal and stuttered her breathing. As my nodding accelerated Anadolu Yakası Escort her hand pet my hair. I surfaced to speak. “Did you like that?”

“Oh, God!” she moaned, and bucked. I was thrown off not by force but surprise. She continued spasming for several long seconds, and calmed.

“Did you come?”

“Twice,” she whispered, shrinking with embarrassment. I laughed. “What?” she demanded.

“That’s amazing.”

“It was.”

“Go again?” I asked. Her eyes lit up.

“Yes, but not that way. Come here.” In a moment she had me on all fours on her bed, with the cock once again in my mouth. She spread her stockinged feet on the carpet to attain the correct height, and tugged at my torso to bring me to the increasingly bold thrusts. Again, she went off like a rocket.

“Now try it here,” she chimed. The legs resumed their sumo posture with her hands flat against a wall, and my shins on the ground before her. “Fuck!” she shouted, and her convulsing nearly choked me. “Are you alright? I’ll lay down and you blow me. Is anything wrong?”

“It’s nothing. You’re just going really fast.”

“I have a lot of ideas.”

“So I see. Want to penetrate me anally? Maybe you can spend some of that excess energy.” It was as though a light bulb had gone on above her wild black mane. “Where should I bend over?” I asked.

She had me disrobe and recline on her comforter while she got changed in the bathroom. After emerging in only a blue baby doll nightie and a gray and white dildo that was striped like a barber shop pole, she stood blushing for a moment by the bed.

“You are truly lovely.”

At that she curtsied timidly and got under the covers. I joined her.

“You know I’ve never given this to anybody,” she whispered.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“I might have to stop, if it’s too much to take. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Don’t worry about a thing. We’re the only two people on earth.”

“I knew you were the one.”She swallowed nervously and twisted around to the end table for the lube. I watched her leer at me while she applied the gel under the sheet as though jerking off. Then she straddled my prone form beneath the blanket, and sank it in.

Rather than plow manically as I expected, she held my shoulders gingerly and routinely adjusted the positions of her knees and pelvis.

“Let me know if this hurts, angel,” she said, suddenly the man again, but not asserting the penis. Three dreamy hours passed while she drew circles with her fingertip on my neck and kissed my arms lovingly. The event was dedicated to pleasure of a more luxuriant and idyllic kind than what I’d had recently, her sweetness and uncertainty making her reluctant to spear me.

Prior to my departure, Pendik Escort which she required to document our romp in her diary, she got on her knees and gave me head, a welcome finale to so much subdued stimulation. Neither of us doubted it when I said I would call her.

Weeks later, we were a happy couple, and her education had progressed spectacularly. I hadn’t attended any classes but the tuition her father sent, which Jasmine generously shared, made finding a job unnecessary.

“You’ve given my daughter a great deal of happiness, young man,” he told me on the phone. His princess was lasciviously unfurling a condom onto her plastic shaft, her lips parted. Jade eyes darted to mine, impatiently.

“And she me, sir.” Ten seconds later she was easing my back to the bed. We bounced as she struggled to liberate the jeans from my flailing boots.

When we played house she sat opposite me wearing only her harness, and striped socks pulled all the way up. I wore nothing, according to her orders.

“How was your day, dear?”

“Hard. The boss is really riding me.”

“Excuse me!” she yelled with mock outrage. “The person with the longer dick is the first to have coffee!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I whined.

She shot up so that her knob thwacked the table.

“I suppose I have to teach you everything! Maybe I should show you the right way to fuck! Bend over,” she commanded, pointing at my dish, and I obeyed. She marched to my ass and invaded it. With her fists at her sides she let the rod punctuate every word of her scolding.


Another of our games was spies. Somehow, I was the only one to get captured.

“We have ways of making you talk,” she purred, strolling languidly to me in a fedora, trench coat, and high heels. I sat helpless under the living room light. Her belt came slowly undone and the folds parted, letting her heavy purple cock fall forward. She took hold of my head and pulled my mouth to it.

“Well, say something.”

Her favorite activity though, was horsey. She wore a cowboy hat for that, which I liked.

One morning I woke to find her contentedly watching me, like her trophies observing us from the wall mounted shelves.

“I have to tell you about this dream,” she said with her head on the pillow and her fists bunched at her chin. “You were marching in this jungle, but everything looked like a cartoon. The machete you were swinging could talk. It said funny things. There was one tall tree, and at the top of it grew a gold flower, like a tiger lily, but it was erupting. Maybe it was a volcano.”

“What happened?”

“You climbed the tree and left me. I was carrying your luggage.” She swung away when she Kurtköy Escort finished talking, and got in the shower. I joined her shortly, and we fucked standing happily behind the transparent curtain with its leafy pattern, in the hot, falling water and steam.

Jasmine had me for the last time in my bed, wearing only a pair of white and pink striped panties with a hole cut in front for her shaft. She deftly maneuvered herself on her knees to grasp me by the waist, chest, or by the shoulder with an adamantly straight arm, accordingly. I rose and fell like a horse, rearing and snorting as she rode me in whatever manner she chose. After settling on a basic hip hold with me getting rammed on my hands and knees, she let her soft, fleshy thighs press maddeningly against my own. Distilled by years of exercise, her girlish enthusiasm made every pump of the dildo by her curvy white form intensely powerful. It went on for twenty minutes, producing three quick, gasping orgasms during each of which her fingernails almost pierced my skin and spurred me to yell, but I wouldn’t have discouraged her joy for anything. To close, she pulled me on her lap and moved us as one, while her ruddy hand manipulated my dick.

“I want to come,” she growled mindlessly. “Shoot my load everywhere. Watch me spray.” Every declination drove her in, and each ascension slid her grip down, both motions becoming more manic until she lost track of which prong was hers. At that point she peaked. “Squeeze that cock, baby, yeah!” It didn’t take long for this to chain react, sending ecstasy flooding our nervous systems and vibrating our supercharged bodies violently until nothing remained of us but an unconscious mist. We drifted off together, cheerfully, and at peace.

When I saw her to the door, she kissed my cheek.

“You’re a really good person, Tom.” I knew then she was dumping me. “I think so, anyway.” She smiled, and trudged away in the snow.

“I guess nothing is forever.” I stood silently for a minute. Finally, I grabbed my coat and started to walk.

Ruminating over my adventures, I wandered into a part of town that I didn’t frequent. I passed the hulks of dead factories and vacant lots that resembled battlefields, getting thoroughly lost and not seeing another soul for hours. Street signs became important about the time the sun started dimming and my toes ached their complaints to me. Not recognizing the names of any lanes, I attempted to backtrack, but the environment got no more familiar. At the first chills of panic, I turned up randomly at a crudely drawn billboard featuring an explorer in a pith helmet and khakis being chased by a tiger. Java was sloshing from a white cup beside him, the message of the ad. Experiencing a sudden epiphany, I spun to face the building opposite, which had a yellow painted clock on its single, weathered tower, and the word AURORA atop its door. The last of the light was reflected in shards on the narrow wall around the peeling circle. I stepped to the entrance of the structure, and went in.

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