mephistofele
12th April 2009, 01:55 AM
like the title says...
The Summer of '99
by Callipygia
As I crossed the Verazzano Bridge, the knot in my stomach threatenedto make me lose my breakfast. It wasn't so much the fact that I wasgoing to a family reunion — a prospect that never gave me warmfuzzies — so much as I'd see Angie again. It had been nearly 10years since I last saw her, after a summer of having her at my parentshouse.
Angie is my cousin. I wasn't sure what she looked like now, butback then she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Sure the facewas angelic, with large brown eyes and long chestnut hair, she was anitalian slice of heaven. But mostly I'd never gotten over that body. She was like a centerfold out of Penthouse, with only slightly smallerbreasts. At 18, she commanded the attention of men wherever she went,including mine.
I spent that summer worshipping her, and much to my shock anddelight, she loved it. It was a summer of the most kinky sex I wouldever know, and now, as my 20s were coming to an end, I had theperspective to realize just how unusually wonderful Angie was. Whoknew that some of my earliest sexual experiences would be the best, andkinkiest I'd ever have?
The only reason I even entertained the idea of going to this familyshindig at all was the fact that it was at Angie's parent's mansion inLong Island, and there was the possibility of running into her again. We hadn't talked much at all since that summer, and like a vision ofperfection, she had haunted me ever since.
I'd never been to their fabled house out on the "Island", but I'dcertainly heard enough about it. Extremely successful professionals,Angie's parents never failed to flaunt their money, and this was thelatest testament to their ability to amass wealth. As I followed thedirections up to the Hamptons, I couldn't help but notice the homes hadgrown enormous. Still, I was shocked how genuinely gigantic theObermann's house was. House? Try castle!
I drove up the circular drive, handed my keys to the valet, andfollowed the servant into the house. If the exterior of the house wasamazing, it paled in comparison to the richly appointed interior, whichwas rife with real marble and expensive woodwork. I was lead to a tentout in their back yard. A live band played, and fully catered disheswere being served by scores of servants and helpers.
Italians are famous for having big families, and ours was noexception. There were literally hundreds of people there, many of whomonly had the barest of bloodline connection to me, and most of whom Ihad never seen before. I scoured the crowd in search of Angie, but Isimply couldn't find her. Finally! A face I recognized: Mom!
I went over to my mother and grabbed a bottle of beer off the trayof a man standing near her.
"Hello, Brad! I'm so glad you came! I didn't think you'd be here,sweetie!" My mom gave me a big motherly hug.
"Come on now, Mom," I protested, "I'm not THAT cynical!" We shared alaugh. My father had passed away two years earlier, and it was good tosee my mom in such good spirits.
I went back to scouring the crowd for Angie. Dammit, I hoped shewould be there, and yet I was nervous as hell that she might really bethere.
"So how's work?" my mom asked in that way that moms do.
"It's OK," I said absently, ever scanning this group of nearstrangers I was supposed to be related to. "Same old, same old. Imight get that promotion I was telling you about. My boss is leavingfor Lockheed, and now they need someone to replace him."
"What is that you do again, dear?"
"Information technology, ma," I responded tiredly. She never seemedto get it. "You know, computers?"
"I would never have guessed that's what you'd end up doing..."
I snapped my head around at the barely familiar voice, and there shewas! Angie stood there beaming, next to my mother!
"Oh, Angie, darling!" cried my mother. "It's so good to see youagain!"
After they exchanged hugs, Angie looked at me and said, "Well?"
Regaining my senses, I said, "Oh! Sorry!" and reached out to hug mycousin. I was amazed that she hadn't lost an ounce of her beauty. Infact, the added maturity gave her face more of a beautiful look, ratherthan pretty or cute, which might have described her the last time I sawher.
As I put my arms around her, it felt like an electrical shock. Iwas intensely aware of her breasts pushing against me, and the feelingof her waist at the side. She gave me a long and warm hug. I don'tknow if I hid how in heaven I felt at her touch.
Her dress was tasteful and classy, but echoed the tastes of anexhibitionist. She wore an olive half sweater that exposed her midriff,the bottom of it clinging to her. It featured her trademark v-neck,and I couldn't help but steal glances at her well-tanned cleavage. Little details like the tiny blond down on her breasts shining in thebright July sunlight seemed to etch into my mind. Her skirt was a longand flowing summery thing. It was conservative, but had theparadoxical effect of drawing the eye to her body, especially since itexposed her belly button and clung to her exquisitely shaped hips andass like a wet t-shirt.
Ahh, that ass, how I had loved that ass, I thought.
Interrupting my thought, she said, "So Bradley, it's been a longtime, hasn't it? I think about you often."
"Yeah, it's been 10 years I think," I replied, as if I wasn't awareof how long it had been, damn near down to the day. Of course, I thengave myself away by adding far too quickly, "Angie, I think of you allthe time!"
"Really..." she said and smiled. We stood in awkward silence for amoment or two.
"So... I see you're getting really good reviews for your books!"
"You've read them?" she said and touched my arm. It felt like herfingers were on fire.
"I've got them all in hard back," I said, "It's not most people thatare related to a best selling author!" I'd read them all too. AngelaObermann had a knack for writing some very steamy sex scenes in hernovels, with emphasis on a strong dominant female character in many ofthem.
We continued to chat, and my mother disappeared to talk to somelong-lost aunt or something. I asked Angie if she wanted to getsomething to eat, and then we found a table toward the fringe of allthe activity and sat and ate. We drank beer and wine, and caught up onall of the things that had happened in each of our lives over the pastdecade.
Like me, she'd been in and out of several relationships over theyears, but had never found the Ôright' person. "Here we are nearly inour 30s and we're still dating like high school kids!" she joked.
The alcohol had relaxed us both a bit, and I was treated to severalarm and hand touchings. At one point I took a chance and placed a handon her thigh, ostensibly while emphasizing a point. She didn't reactto it at all, and I removed it before it became impossible to ignore,but the chance to touch her leg was delightful. I felt great reliefand gratitude in the fact that she had let me have virtually all of hertime at this reunion. The truth was, aside from a few distantrelatives coming up and saying hello every now and then, nobody reallydisturbed us at all, and that was great.
"Do you remember that summer you stayed at my house?" I offered atone point, "That was one hell of a summer!"
She looked me in the eyes and responded a little quietly, "It surewas..." I loved the little smile on her face.
"I think about it almost constantly, Ang"
"Mmmmm hmmmm..." she replied. "I'll bet you do! Tell me..." Shepaused to take a sip of wine. "Did you do all that because you werejust into the psychology of it all, or did you really just like thetaste?" The grin on her face was mischievous.
As she asked the question, I felt my cock immediately spring to lifelike a Pavlovian dog responding to the sound of a dinner bell. I knewthat we had both been thinking of those distant and kinky times,perhaps since we saw each other again at the reunion, but thedirectness of her allusion still shocked me. I could see on her facethat that was not accidental.
"I don't know, I haven't really thought about it," I lied. "I guessthere were lots of reasons I did it." It occurred to me that for allthe activity that had gone on that summer, she and I had never reallydiscussed it. We just did it.
"Well?" she said, with a hint of amusement, "Like what?"
"For one thing, I did it Ôcause you're gorgeous! Honestly, Angieyou might be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Thank you," she said, "but I'm not buying that that was it. Imean, it doesn't explain all of the... things we did."
"OK," I conceded, "I guess I discovered something crucial aboutmyself that summer. I find special release in not only being with awoman, but worshipping her. And by worship, I mean it's not merelyenough that I serve her, I want — no, NEED to feel used by her. It makes the worship more intense, more genuine." I surprised myselfwith the candor of my words.
She smiled, "Haven't really thought about it, eh?" and she gave me asly smile. "Well, use you I did, I guess, huh? Let's cut to the chasethough. We both know you were pretty much obsessed with my backside..."She turned to the side to look down toward her bottom, lifting her hipslightly off the chair. The gesture was exquisitely feminine andalluring to me. "What was that all about?"
"Well," I started slowly, "your Ôbackside' as you refer to it isjust supremely beautiful and totally embodies female sexiness — atleast to me. So doing those things gave me a chance to wallow in thatsexiness while performing the ultimate services for you, worshippingyou ultimately. I always loved the juxtaposition of incredible beautyand incredible... ...nastiness." My cock had grown rock hard, and I placeda hand over it to hide my erection. "What about you? Why did you doit?"
She looked at me with that beautiful smile for a moment, and thensaid, "I dunno. I guess I like the feeling of having my ass kissed...What girl wouldn't like that, Brad?"
"Apparently, most, at least not like that," I replied somewhatforlornly.
"Well, I loved it!," she said. "Do you have any idea what a rush itis to get your ass kissed for," and then she whispered, "*shitting* onsomeone?" She burst into laughter. I'd heard that laughter so manytimes before, in the distant past, usually with the taste of her freshshit emanating from cakes of it between my teeth and on my tongue.
"So," she continued, "you haven't been able to find any otherwilling participants since then, eh?"
"No," I said. "I can't even figure out a way that I could bringsomething like that up without getting my hat handed back to me." Thenwith trepidation, I asked, "How about you?"
She smiled quizzically and said, "Well, I don't know about thatextreme, but I guess you could say I've met a lot of guys who like toworship women. Are you ready for a confession? I've worked as anexotic dancer, and in that field, you see all kinds!"
I damn near dropped my drink! "What!? Are you serious?" Isuddenly realized that that was a little too loud. "Sorry, I'm just... I'm shocked!"
"I thought you might be. My parents were absentee, you know? Ithink I did it as a sort of rebellion against them. They never knew Idid it, but *I* did, and that was enough. When I came to stay with youguys that summer, I'd already done some work at a club not far from myhouse!"
I was having trouble thinking. It just seemed impossible, and yet,it really helped to explain an awful lot. I'd never met anyone asopen-minded as Angie, ever. And now I had part of the reason why. "Idon't know what to say, Angie. You were barely 18 then!"
"Well, let me tell you, I applied for the job when I was still 17,and they loved me, but they told me I couldn't dance there until I was18. Well my birthday came, and the next day, I went back. I only didit for a few years while I went through college. It wasn't for themoney, as you can imagine. I just loved it, and I used to imagine whatmy parents would think if they ever found out! Anyway, guys werealways groping you and offering to pay for your dirty underwear, andbegging to kiss your ass that sort of thing. Don't get me wrong, therewere a lot of assholes too, but some of those guys really seemed togenuinely adore you and would come back and be regulars. That reallyappealed to both my ego and my exhibitionist nature. I had one guy whowould pay me a hundred dollars just to take his empty drink glassbackstage and piss in it. There you are up there dancing, watching aguy nurse a glassful of your pure piss all night! He always wanted toslip a $20 into my g-string with his teeth, from behind naturally. Iused to fart in his face if I could, but I think he like that."
I was having trouble figuring out what impact this revelation wouldhave on my fantasies surrounding Angie. I just listened to herintently while she spilled the whole sordid tale.
"So when I caught you that one day with my underwear, it reallywasn't as weird to me as it might be to someone else. To tell you thetruth, I was flattered. And what can I say, I took my mean-streak outon you, but only because I know you wanted it."
"What about the really kinky stuff?" I asked. "I mean I doubt guyswere openly asking you to shit on them!"
"Well, let's not forget that you didn't exactly ask for it. Atleast not at first. I seem to recall it was my idea." She winked. "You might be surprised though actually. There are a fair amount ofguys who will ask for weird things. Well, maybe you're right, itwasn't usually that extreme, but the way I see it, hey, it's just abodily function. What's the shame in that? I don't always feel that Ineed to have a desire myself in order to understand someone else havingone. When I found out what you were into, I didn't concentrate on howÔsick' you might be. Instead, I thought about whether or not I mightlike being on the receiving end of it. And guess what?" she said, andran her fingers through her hair, "I did. A lot! You weren't the onlyone who discovered a lot that summer."
Angie broke out a tube of lipstick and a mirror, and began toÔfreshen' up. I watched the bright red tube run over her glisteninglips, and marvelled at how amazing she was. Author, gorgeous,intelligent, stunning, former stripper, and who knew what else. I feltenthralled with this remarkable woman.
"You know what?" she said, snapping her compact closed and droppingit into her purse. "Why don't we blow this joint and go somewhere? Idon't think I can bear hearing ÔAmorŽ' again! We could go to a bar orback to my room. I decided I didn't want to risk driving back into thecity if I got a little too toasted," she said and waved her empty wineglass in the air, "and you can guess how I feel about staying in thisplace. So I rented a hotel room".
We said goodbye to my Mom and to some other relatives, picked up ourcars from the valets and drove off. I followed her blue BMW roadsterand contemplated what might happen next. Angie was full of surprises. I was surprised at how much she resented her parents. I was surprisedthat she had actually worked as a stripper, even though it was obviousshe had all the requisite assets. I was mildly surprised that sheseemed to have enjoyed that summer as much as I had, even thoughlooking back on it, I guess she had really lead the way that wholesummer. Mostly, I was very surprised that she had obviously thoughtabout me as much as she had.
When we got into Angie's hotel room, she tossed her keys and purseon a dresser and plopped down on the full-size bed. She lay on herside and looked at me for a long time before either of us saidanything.
"You look good," she said. "You obviously keep in shape."
"Me? Look at *you*! I think your waist is even smaller than whenwe were teenagers!" I openly studied the gentle downward slope of herbody from her rib cage to the small of her waist, and then the nearlymirror image slope as it rose back up to her hips, and curved aroundthat sweet ass. Feeling a bit light-headed from the combination of herpresence and the many beers I'd had, I blurted out, "No offense, butyour tits look bigger than ever, too!"
She laughed at my alcohol induced brusqueness.
"Well, they might be slightly augmented, if you know what I mean. But only slightly," she chuckled. "I know you're not a breast man anyway," she said, and she turned over onto her stomach on the bed. "Thisis what you like," she purred, giving her back the slightest arch toaccentuate her curves.
"Oh, I don't know. I like a nice chest too. But you're right, Iadore a beautiful ass." I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to hersas I said it.
Her face was partially hidden behind her outstretched arm, so that Icould only see her eyes, but they said volumes. "Would you like tokiss it? You know, for old time's sake?"
I walked silently over to the bed and slowly brought both of myhands up to her shoulders, and began kneeding them, giving her asensuous back rub. "You know I could never resist an opportunity tokiss your ass, Angie..." I leaned forward and kissed her temple. Icaressed my way down her back. She let out soft sighs and stretchedher legs and arms while I touched her sweet skin. I ran a string ofkisses down the indentation of her spine. When my lips completed theirjourney down her sweater and touched her skin, I felt her shudder, andI took in the gentle scent of her sweat, skin, and variousperfumes.
"Mmmmmmm..." she sighed.
I took the zipper of her skirt between my teeth and pulled thezipper down. Just as I had discovered many years ago, Angie eschewedunderwear, so I was treated to the sight of her half-naked ass, and Igot to run my nose about halfway down the crack of her ass, inhalingthe entire time. One of the things I always loved about Angie's bodyis that she was never Ôtoo' clean. Other girls I had been with were soabsorbed in maniacal personal hygiene, their bodies were oftenantiseptic and scent free. In my opinion, one shower a day was allanyone really needed. Angie smelled wonderful, the heat of the Julysun having created just enough perspiration to give her a warm earthyodor.
I pulled her skirt down off those incredibly long, smooth legs, andI noticed once again that Angie's ass was a testament to roundness andfirmness. She clearly kept herself in great shape. I knelt at thefoot of the bed and took one her feet into my hand. I brought it to myface and sniffed deeply, kissing the bottom.
"Ooooh, that feels good, Brad!"
I sucked on each toe, closed my eyes, and absorbed this new flavorher body had to offer. While licking between the toes of her otherfoot, I looked up at the rest of her. I loved the way her sweaterseemed to accentuate the nudity of her lower body, the heart-shapeoutline her ass made at that angle, the beautiful semi-circles her tanlines made over the cheeks, and the way the bottoms of the cheeksarticulated into little nooks right at her inner thigh. A line ofpaler skin hinted at the bottom of her cheek, where slightly less sunwould shine. I kissed my way up the back of her legs until I couldkiss those lines and those little nooks.
She arched her back even more, causing the split of her ass to openenough for me to see all the way down into the crack of her ass. Withmy lips still pressed to the bottom of one her ass cheeks, I could seethe little wrinkled star that was her asshole less than an inch away. It was so close, it was blurry. Once again my mind noted the smell,which was what I would expect from someone who had sat in the hot sunfor an entire afternoon.
There was something about the combination of that sight and smellthat always seemed to make me temporarily insane. I wanted to kiss it,to taste it. I wanted to lick it, and absorb its scent into my body. I wanted her to feel arrogant while I did it. I wanted permanentstains on my tongue from her asshole.
She seemed to be reading my mind.
"You know what I liked most of all the things we did?" she askedwith a smile.
"Tell me, Angie."
"I liked when you would kiss my asshole and then let me fart in yourmouth! I always thought it was the rudest thing a person could do tosomeone else. It seemed so disrespectful, especially since you wereexpressing the greatest show of respect to me in licking my ass."
My cock was so stiff it hurt. I wanted to bury my face in her assright then, but I didn't want to interrupt the conversation. I lovedhearing her perspective.
"Even more so than..." For some reason, I couldn't bring myself tosay it.
"Than shitting on you?" she asked with amusement. "Yes, even morethan that! I characterize that as being more Ômean', you know? Farting was just so *rude*! Farting made me feel arrogant. Shittingmade me feel cruel. Don't get me wrong, though, I really lovedboth!"
"May I lick your ass now, Angie" I asked, sweat starting to bead upon my brow.
"You may," she quipped, and she reached back with both of her handsand pulled her ass cheeks apart, fully exposing herself.
I started by kissing the lightly haired wrinkles around the holefirst. The skin was sticky and ripe with anal fragrance. I decided Icouldn't waste it by kissing it all off, so I moved my nose down intoher crack, and began nuzzling her asshole. This put my mouth rightover her pussy, so I began kissing her there while I nuzzled andsniffed her asshole. I felt my lips grow wet with girl-cum, andpressed my mouth in more firmly against her. I allowed my lips to partso that I could caress her pretty little clit with my tongue. Theentire time I had my nose pressed right up against her preciousasshole, and enjoyed the dirty asshole scent.
Suddenly, her asshole opened up and my nose was filled with stronganal gas as I heard a nearly silent whoosh.
"See what I mean," she said, laughing. "You're busy trying toplease me with your mouth, and I respond by farting in your face! That's just fucking RUDE! It feels like I just totally disrespectedyou!"
"I like that," I responded, reluctantly breaking my seal on herclit. "But I think farting in my mouth is even ruder!"
"You might be right, but I like the idea that you had to smell mygas while you suck me off! I love the fact that I can count on you tonot even stop while I fart in your face! Do you want one in yourmouth?"
Once again I reluctantly stopped lapping up her pussy juice andresponded, "Oh, yes, Angie, I would love that!" I was in heaven!
Then she surprised me.
"Beg for it! Explain how it is your purpose in life to taste mygas!" Her voice had taken on a certain huskiness to it, and I noticedthat her juices were starting to flow freely.
I nuzzled her asshole and kissed it and said, "Please Angie, fart inmy mouth. I deserve nothing more than a mouthful of your deliciousgas. I love your gas and want to have it in my mouth and in mybody!"
"I DO love your attitude!" she chuckled. "Open up for my gift."
I pressed my mouth to her asshole and opened wide.
"Suck on it. I love that feeling. Like you can't get enough ofit!"
I began to suck like a baby on a bottle, dying to be fed. And thenshe let a loud wet fart rip. It sounded funny as it went into mymouth, but it's taste was anything but. I could taste some of the foodshe had eaten earlier, with a hint of all that wine, mixed with astrong shit odor. It was obvious to me that this girl had to go. Ifought off an impending orgasm so that I could enjoy the even greaterdelights that were clearly in store.
"Whew!" she laughed. "I can smell that up here! Poor baby! Butyou loved it didn't you? You want even more, don't you?"
I looked at the impossible beauty of the globes of her ass pressedagainst my face, and knew in my heart that my destiny was to eat hershit whenever she deigned to feed it to me. I simply nodded withoutremoving my face from her ass.
"This is my favorite way to come, Brad, did you know that?" she saidand she began stroking her clit. It reminded me of the very first timewe had done this over a decade ago. "Lick my asshole, like a goodlittle slave preparing to eat his mistress's shit, Brad. Show me howmuch you appreciate this treatment by lovingly licking my asshole."
She was so much more verbal now! I loved it! I went about thebusiness of trying to make her feel comfortable to abuse me in theworst way, tasting every wrinkle of her asshole, and then pushing mytongue up inside. It seemed easier to get my tongue up there than Iremember from the past. It slid easily in, and I found myself openingmy jaw painfully to slip it in just that extra quarter inch or so. Iloved the feeling of her beautiful sphincter wrapped around the base ofmy tongue, and the thought of where the rest of my tongue wasembedded.
Then I tasted shit for the first time in 10 years. It startedslowly down her anal canal and I licked the tip of this obsceneexcrement cock. I could feel her furiously rubbing her clit. I heardher moaning softly, then she would bear down with a gentle grunt. Hershit came closer and closer to the end of it's journey, with mefrantically licking every nook and cranny, burying my tongue in thesofter spots. Shit tastes every bit as bad as you imagine it to, but Iwouldn't have it any other way. I wanted to suffer for her whim. Itmade the abuse so much more real and personal.
"Oooh, yes!," she cried, and she began to come. "Oooh yes! Eat it,you worthless shiteater! Eat my shit when you get me off! Yes, eatshit!"
Somehow her words stung in a way that our kinks had never donebefore. She cut through the veneer of my older age and wisdom like ahot knife through soft butter, and made me feel more degraded than Iimagined was humanly possible. And then her shit pushed it's way outof her asshole and into my mouth! And I once again I proved that I wasa bottom feeder in this world, sucking and chewing on her shit as fastas I could. I was more concerned about making sure I could eat fastenough so that she could keep a continuous flow of shit into my mouththan I was with the sheer outrage of being made to eat another humanbeing's waste.
She was always a violent cummer, and this time was no different. Her body wracked with waves of pleasure as she made me eat shit, and Iwas so absorbed in the stinging humiliation of it all that I surprisedmyself when I began to come too, right in my own pants. I rememberedvaguely that in the midst of all of this, I hadn't even taken myclothes off. I realized that this was all about her and her pleasures,her cruel pleasures, and I loved it. I became convinced at that momentthat my young crush on her was no crush after all. Angie was theperfect woman.
After her orgasm subsided, she lay there satsified and happy, like aspoiled brat princess, and let me finish the task of eating her shit,then licking her ass clean. I didn't even have to be told to kiss herasshole afterward in gratitude. That was something that we hadestablished that summer so many years ago, and I was stillwell-trained.
She didn't move as she said, "God, I almost forgot how good it canfeel to do something like that to someone else! Mmmmmm... you evenremembered to kiss my asshole in thanks! You ARE spoiled, you luckybastard, getting shit on by someone like me!" And then she gave me oneof those wonderful derisive laughs.
My humiliation kept me silent. I felt like the bottom in an abusiverelationship; the addict that can't stop themselves from destroyingthemselves for the other party. It felt horrible and wonderful at thesame time. It was the feeling a voluntary slave should have.
She broke the silence after a few minutes.
"Brad, I'm tired. All that wine is getting to me. Do me a favorand leave your phone number on the pad on that desk over there. I'dlike to get together with you again sometime, maybe. It's been niceseeing you."
It was barely 9 o'clock. I was stunned by this apparent dismissal. It was not how I expected this to turn out. Not that I had a clearidea of what might happen, but... I quickly scribbled down my numberon the pad, and went over to the bed, where Angie was still sprawledout in all of her wonderful naked beauty. I leaned down and kissed hercheek and said, "It's been good seeing you too! Call me, Angie..."
And then I turned and walked out.
I heard her chuckle and say, "Your breath stinks!" just before Iclosed the door. I paused for a moment, then thought it would be bestto just leave.
Perhaps the most embarrassing thing about it is that I really waitedwith bated breath every day after that for her call.
About two weeks later, she finally did...
The Summer of '99
by Callipygia
As I crossed the Verazzano Bridge, the knot in my stomach threatenedto make me lose my breakfast. It wasn't so much the fact that I wasgoing to a family reunion — a prospect that never gave me warmfuzzies — so much as I'd see Angie again. It had been nearly 10years since I last saw her, after a summer of having her at my parentshouse.
Angie is my cousin. I wasn't sure what she looked like now, butback then she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Sure the facewas angelic, with large brown eyes and long chestnut hair, she was anitalian slice of heaven. But mostly I'd never gotten over that body. She was like a centerfold out of Penthouse, with only slightly smallerbreasts. At 18, she commanded the attention of men wherever she went,including mine.
I spent that summer worshipping her, and much to my shock anddelight, she loved it. It was a summer of the most kinky sex I wouldever know, and now, as my 20s were coming to an end, I had theperspective to realize just how unusually wonderful Angie was. Whoknew that some of my earliest sexual experiences would be the best, andkinkiest I'd ever have?
The only reason I even entertained the idea of going to this familyshindig at all was the fact that it was at Angie's parent's mansion inLong Island, and there was the possibility of running into her again. We hadn't talked much at all since that summer, and like a vision ofperfection, she had haunted me ever since.
I'd never been to their fabled house out on the "Island", but I'dcertainly heard enough about it. Extremely successful professionals,Angie's parents never failed to flaunt their money, and this was thelatest testament to their ability to amass wealth. As I followed thedirections up to the Hamptons, I couldn't help but notice the homes hadgrown enormous. Still, I was shocked how genuinely gigantic theObermann's house was. House? Try castle!
I drove up the circular drive, handed my keys to the valet, andfollowed the servant into the house. If the exterior of the house wasamazing, it paled in comparison to the richly appointed interior, whichwas rife with real marble and expensive woodwork. I was lead to a tentout in their back yard. A live band played, and fully catered disheswere being served by scores of servants and helpers.
Italians are famous for having big families, and ours was noexception. There were literally hundreds of people there, many of whomonly had the barest of bloodline connection to me, and most of whom Ihad never seen before. I scoured the crowd in search of Angie, but Isimply couldn't find her. Finally! A face I recognized: Mom!
I went over to my mother and grabbed a bottle of beer off the trayof a man standing near her.
"Hello, Brad! I'm so glad you came! I didn't think you'd be here,sweetie!" My mom gave me a big motherly hug.
"Come on now, Mom," I protested, "I'm not THAT cynical!" We shared alaugh. My father had passed away two years earlier, and it was good tosee my mom in such good spirits.
I went back to scouring the crowd for Angie. Dammit, I hoped shewould be there, and yet I was nervous as hell that she might really bethere.
"So how's work?" my mom asked in that way that moms do.
"It's OK," I said absently, ever scanning this group of nearstrangers I was supposed to be related to. "Same old, same old. Imight get that promotion I was telling you about. My boss is leavingfor Lockheed, and now they need someone to replace him."
"What is that you do again, dear?"
"Information technology, ma," I responded tiredly. She never seemedto get it. "You know, computers?"
"I would never have guessed that's what you'd end up doing..."
I snapped my head around at the barely familiar voice, and there shewas! Angie stood there beaming, next to my mother!
"Oh, Angie, darling!" cried my mother. "It's so good to see youagain!"
After they exchanged hugs, Angie looked at me and said, "Well?"
Regaining my senses, I said, "Oh! Sorry!" and reached out to hug mycousin. I was amazed that she hadn't lost an ounce of her beauty. Infact, the added maturity gave her face more of a beautiful look, ratherthan pretty or cute, which might have described her the last time I sawher.
As I put my arms around her, it felt like an electrical shock. Iwas intensely aware of her breasts pushing against me, and the feelingof her waist at the side. She gave me a long and warm hug. I don'tknow if I hid how in heaven I felt at her touch.
Her dress was tasteful and classy, but echoed the tastes of anexhibitionist. She wore an olive half sweater that exposed her midriff,the bottom of it clinging to her. It featured her trademark v-neck,and I couldn't help but steal glances at her well-tanned cleavage. Little details like the tiny blond down on her breasts shining in thebright July sunlight seemed to etch into my mind. Her skirt was a longand flowing summery thing. It was conservative, but had theparadoxical effect of drawing the eye to her body, especially since itexposed her belly button and clung to her exquisitely shaped hips andass like a wet t-shirt.
Ahh, that ass, how I had loved that ass, I thought.
Interrupting my thought, she said, "So Bradley, it's been a longtime, hasn't it? I think about you often."
"Yeah, it's been 10 years I think," I replied, as if I wasn't awareof how long it had been, damn near down to the day. Of course, I thengave myself away by adding far too quickly, "Angie, I think of you allthe time!"
"Really..." she said and smiled. We stood in awkward silence for amoment or two.
"So... I see you're getting really good reviews for your books!"
"You've read them?" she said and touched my arm. It felt like herfingers were on fire.
"I've got them all in hard back," I said, "It's not most people thatare related to a best selling author!" I'd read them all too. AngelaObermann had a knack for writing some very steamy sex scenes in hernovels, with emphasis on a strong dominant female character in many ofthem.
We continued to chat, and my mother disappeared to talk to somelong-lost aunt or something. I asked Angie if she wanted to getsomething to eat, and then we found a table toward the fringe of allthe activity and sat and ate. We drank beer and wine, and caught up onall of the things that had happened in each of our lives over the pastdecade.
Like me, she'd been in and out of several relationships over theyears, but had never found the Ôright' person. "Here we are nearly inour 30s and we're still dating like high school kids!" she joked.
The alcohol had relaxed us both a bit, and I was treated to severalarm and hand touchings. At one point I took a chance and placed a handon her thigh, ostensibly while emphasizing a point. She didn't reactto it at all, and I removed it before it became impossible to ignore,but the chance to touch her leg was delightful. I felt great reliefand gratitude in the fact that she had let me have virtually all of hertime at this reunion. The truth was, aside from a few distantrelatives coming up and saying hello every now and then, nobody reallydisturbed us at all, and that was great.
"Do you remember that summer you stayed at my house?" I offered atone point, "That was one hell of a summer!"
She looked me in the eyes and responded a little quietly, "It surewas..." I loved the little smile on her face.
"I think about it almost constantly, Ang"
"Mmmmm hmmmm..." she replied. "I'll bet you do! Tell me..." Shepaused to take a sip of wine. "Did you do all that because you werejust into the psychology of it all, or did you really just like thetaste?" The grin on her face was mischievous.
As she asked the question, I felt my cock immediately spring to lifelike a Pavlovian dog responding to the sound of a dinner bell. I knewthat we had both been thinking of those distant and kinky times,perhaps since we saw each other again at the reunion, but thedirectness of her allusion still shocked me. I could see on her facethat that was not accidental.
"I don't know, I haven't really thought about it," I lied. "I guessthere were lots of reasons I did it." It occurred to me that for allthe activity that had gone on that summer, she and I had never reallydiscussed it. We just did it.
"Well?" she said, with a hint of amusement, "Like what?"
"For one thing, I did it Ôcause you're gorgeous! Honestly, Angieyou might be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"Thank you," she said, "but I'm not buying that that was it. Imean, it doesn't explain all of the... things we did."
"OK," I conceded, "I guess I discovered something crucial aboutmyself that summer. I find special release in not only being with awoman, but worshipping her. And by worship, I mean it's not merelyenough that I serve her, I want — no, NEED to feel used by her. It makes the worship more intense, more genuine." I surprised myselfwith the candor of my words.
She smiled, "Haven't really thought about it, eh?" and she gave me asly smile. "Well, use you I did, I guess, huh? Let's cut to the chasethough. We both know you were pretty much obsessed with my backside..."She turned to the side to look down toward her bottom, lifting her hipslightly off the chair. The gesture was exquisitely feminine andalluring to me. "What was that all about?"
"Well," I started slowly, "your Ôbackside' as you refer to it isjust supremely beautiful and totally embodies female sexiness — atleast to me. So doing those things gave me a chance to wallow in thatsexiness while performing the ultimate services for you, worshippingyou ultimately. I always loved the juxtaposition of incredible beautyand incredible... ...nastiness." My cock had grown rock hard, and I placeda hand over it to hide my erection. "What about you? Why did you doit?"
She looked at me with that beautiful smile for a moment, and thensaid, "I dunno. I guess I like the feeling of having my ass kissed...What girl wouldn't like that, Brad?"
"Apparently, most, at least not like that," I replied somewhatforlornly.
"Well, I loved it!," she said. "Do you have any idea what a rush itis to get your ass kissed for," and then she whispered, "*shitting* onsomeone?" She burst into laughter. I'd heard that laughter so manytimes before, in the distant past, usually with the taste of her freshshit emanating from cakes of it between my teeth and on my tongue.
"So," she continued, "you haven't been able to find any otherwilling participants since then, eh?"
"No," I said. "I can't even figure out a way that I could bringsomething like that up without getting my hat handed back to me." Thenwith trepidation, I asked, "How about you?"
She smiled quizzically and said, "Well, I don't know about thatextreme, but I guess you could say I've met a lot of guys who like toworship women. Are you ready for a confession? I've worked as anexotic dancer, and in that field, you see all kinds!"
I damn near dropped my drink! "What!? Are you serious?" Isuddenly realized that that was a little too loud. "Sorry, I'm just... I'm shocked!"
"I thought you might be. My parents were absentee, you know? Ithink I did it as a sort of rebellion against them. They never knew Idid it, but *I* did, and that was enough. When I came to stay with youguys that summer, I'd already done some work at a club not far from myhouse!"
I was having trouble thinking. It just seemed impossible, and yet,it really helped to explain an awful lot. I'd never met anyone asopen-minded as Angie, ever. And now I had part of the reason why. "Idon't know what to say, Angie. You were barely 18 then!"
"Well, let me tell you, I applied for the job when I was still 17,and they loved me, but they told me I couldn't dance there until I was18. Well my birthday came, and the next day, I went back. I only didit for a few years while I went through college. It wasn't for themoney, as you can imagine. I just loved it, and I used to imagine whatmy parents would think if they ever found out! Anyway, guys werealways groping you and offering to pay for your dirty underwear, andbegging to kiss your ass that sort of thing. Don't get me wrong, therewere a lot of assholes too, but some of those guys really seemed togenuinely adore you and would come back and be regulars. That reallyappealed to both my ego and my exhibitionist nature. I had one guy whowould pay me a hundred dollars just to take his empty drink glassbackstage and piss in it. There you are up there dancing, watching aguy nurse a glassful of your pure piss all night! He always wanted toslip a $20 into my g-string with his teeth, from behind naturally. Iused to fart in his face if I could, but I think he like that."
I was having trouble figuring out what impact this revelation wouldhave on my fantasies surrounding Angie. I just listened to herintently while she spilled the whole sordid tale.
"So when I caught you that one day with my underwear, it reallywasn't as weird to me as it might be to someone else. To tell you thetruth, I was flattered. And what can I say, I took my mean-streak outon you, but only because I know you wanted it."
"What about the really kinky stuff?" I asked. "I mean I doubt guyswere openly asking you to shit on them!"
"Well, let's not forget that you didn't exactly ask for it. Atleast not at first. I seem to recall it was my idea." She winked. "You might be surprised though actually. There are a fair amount ofguys who will ask for weird things. Well, maybe you're right, itwasn't usually that extreme, but the way I see it, hey, it's just abodily function. What's the shame in that? I don't always feel that Ineed to have a desire myself in order to understand someone else havingone. When I found out what you were into, I didn't concentrate on howÔsick' you might be. Instead, I thought about whether or not I mightlike being on the receiving end of it. And guess what?" she said, andran her fingers through her hair, "I did. A lot! You weren't the onlyone who discovered a lot that summer."
Angie broke out a tube of lipstick and a mirror, and began toÔfreshen' up. I watched the bright red tube run over her glisteninglips, and marvelled at how amazing she was. Author, gorgeous,intelligent, stunning, former stripper, and who knew what else. I feltenthralled with this remarkable woman.
"You know what?" she said, snapping her compact closed and droppingit into her purse. "Why don't we blow this joint and go somewhere? Idon't think I can bear hearing ÔAmorŽ' again! We could go to a bar orback to my room. I decided I didn't want to risk driving back into thecity if I got a little too toasted," she said and waved her empty wineglass in the air, "and you can guess how I feel about staying in thisplace. So I rented a hotel room".
We said goodbye to my Mom and to some other relatives, picked up ourcars from the valets and drove off. I followed her blue BMW roadsterand contemplated what might happen next. Angie was full of surprises. I was surprised at how much she resented her parents. I was surprisedthat she had actually worked as a stripper, even though it was obviousshe had all the requisite assets. I was mildly surprised that sheseemed to have enjoyed that summer as much as I had, even thoughlooking back on it, I guess she had really lead the way that wholesummer. Mostly, I was very surprised that she had obviously thoughtabout me as much as she had.
When we got into Angie's hotel room, she tossed her keys and purseon a dresser and plopped down on the full-size bed. She lay on herside and looked at me for a long time before either of us saidanything.
"You look good," she said. "You obviously keep in shape."
"Me? Look at *you*! I think your waist is even smaller than whenwe were teenagers!" I openly studied the gentle downward slope of herbody from her rib cage to the small of her waist, and then the nearlymirror image slope as it rose back up to her hips, and curved aroundthat sweet ass. Feeling a bit light-headed from the combination of herpresence and the many beers I'd had, I blurted out, "No offense, butyour tits look bigger than ever, too!"
She laughed at my alcohol induced brusqueness.
"Well, they might be slightly augmented, if you know what I mean. But only slightly," she chuckled. "I know you're not a breast man anyway," she said, and she turned over onto her stomach on the bed. "Thisis what you like," she purred, giving her back the slightest arch toaccentuate her curves.
"Oh, I don't know. I like a nice chest too. But you're right, Iadore a beautiful ass." I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to hersas I said it.
Her face was partially hidden behind her outstretched arm, so that Icould only see her eyes, but they said volumes. "Would you like tokiss it? You know, for old time's sake?"
I walked silently over to the bed and slowly brought both of myhands up to her shoulders, and began kneeding them, giving her asensuous back rub. "You know I could never resist an opportunity tokiss your ass, Angie..." I leaned forward and kissed her temple. Icaressed my way down her back. She let out soft sighs and stretchedher legs and arms while I touched her sweet skin. I ran a string ofkisses down the indentation of her spine. When my lips completed theirjourney down her sweater and touched her skin, I felt her shudder, andI took in the gentle scent of her sweat, skin, and variousperfumes.
"Mmmmmmm..." she sighed.
I took the zipper of her skirt between my teeth and pulled thezipper down. Just as I had discovered many years ago, Angie eschewedunderwear, so I was treated to the sight of her half-naked ass, and Igot to run my nose about halfway down the crack of her ass, inhalingthe entire time. One of the things I always loved about Angie's bodyis that she was never Ôtoo' clean. Other girls I had been with were soabsorbed in maniacal personal hygiene, their bodies were oftenantiseptic and scent free. In my opinion, one shower a day was allanyone really needed. Angie smelled wonderful, the heat of the Julysun having created just enough perspiration to give her a warm earthyodor.
I pulled her skirt down off those incredibly long, smooth legs, andI noticed once again that Angie's ass was a testament to roundness andfirmness. She clearly kept herself in great shape. I knelt at thefoot of the bed and took one her feet into my hand. I brought it to myface and sniffed deeply, kissing the bottom.
"Ooooh, that feels good, Brad!"
I sucked on each toe, closed my eyes, and absorbed this new flavorher body had to offer. While licking between the toes of her otherfoot, I looked up at the rest of her. I loved the way her sweaterseemed to accentuate the nudity of her lower body, the heart-shapeoutline her ass made at that angle, the beautiful semi-circles her tanlines made over the cheeks, and the way the bottoms of the cheeksarticulated into little nooks right at her inner thigh. A line ofpaler skin hinted at the bottom of her cheek, where slightly less sunwould shine. I kissed my way up the back of her legs until I couldkiss those lines and those little nooks.
She arched her back even more, causing the split of her ass to openenough for me to see all the way down into the crack of her ass. Withmy lips still pressed to the bottom of one her ass cheeks, I could seethe little wrinkled star that was her asshole less than an inch away. It was so close, it was blurry. Once again my mind noted the smell,which was what I would expect from someone who had sat in the hot sunfor an entire afternoon.
There was something about the combination of that sight and smellthat always seemed to make me temporarily insane. I wanted to kiss it,to taste it. I wanted to lick it, and absorb its scent into my body. I wanted her to feel arrogant while I did it. I wanted permanentstains on my tongue from her asshole.
She seemed to be reading my mind.
"You know what I liked most of all the things we did?" she askedwith a smile.
"Tell me, Angie."
"I liked when you would kiss my asshole and then let me fart in yourmouth! I always thought it was the rudest thing a person could do tosomeone else. It seemed so disrespectful, especially since you wereexpressing the greatest show of respect to me in licking my ass."
My cock was so stiff it hurt. I wanted to bury my face in her assright then, but I didn't want to interrupt the conversation. I lovedhearing her perspective.
"Even more so than..." For some reason, I couldn't bring myself tosay it.
"Than shitting on you?" she asked with amusement. "Yes, even morethan that! I characterize that as being more Ômean', you know? Farting was just so *rude*! Farting made me feel arrogant. Shittingmade me feel cruel. Don't get me wrong, though, I really lovedboth!"
"May I lick your ass now, Angie" I asked, sweat starting to bead upon my brow.
"You may," she quipped, and she reached back with both of her handsand pulled her ass cheeks apart, fully exposing herself.
I started by kissing the lightly haired wrinkles around the holefirst. The skin was sticky and ripe with anal fragrance. I decided Icouldn't waste it by kissing it all off, so I moved my nose down intoher crack, and began nuzzling her asshole. This put my mouth rightover her pussy, so I began kissing her there while I nuzzled andsniffed her asshole. I felt my lips grow wet with girl-cum, andpressed my mouth in more firmly against her. I allowed my lips to partso that I could caress her pretty little clit with my tongue. Theentire time I had my nose pressed right up against her preciousasshole, and enjoyed the dirty asshole scent.
Suddenly, her asshole opened up and my nose was filled with stronganal gas as I heard a nearly silent whoosh.
"See what I mean," she said, laughing. "You're busy trying toplease me with your mouth, and I respond by farting in your face! That's just fucking RUDE! It feels like I just totally disrespectedyou!"
"I like that," I responded, reluctantly breaking my seal on herclit. "But I think farting in my mouth is even ruder!"
"You might be right, but I like the idea that you had to smell mygas while you suck me off! I love the fact that I can count on you tonot even stop while I fart in your face! Do you want one in yourmouth?"
Once again I reluctantly stopped lapping up her pussy juice andresponded, "Oh, yes, Angie, I would love that!" I was in heaven!
Then she surprised me.
"Beg for it! Explain how it is your purpose in life to taste mygas!" Her voice had taken on a certain huskiness to it, and I noticedthat her juices were starting to flow freely.
I nuzzled her asshole and kissed it and said, "Please Angie, fart inmy mouth. I deserve nothing more than a mouthful of your deliciousgas. I love your gas and want to have it in my mouth and in mybody!"
"I DO love your attitude!" she chuckled. "Open up for my gift."
I pressed my mouth to her asshole and opened wide.
"Suck on it. I love that feeling. Like you can't get enough ofit!"
I began to suck like a baby on a bottle, dying to be fed. And thenshe let a loud wet fart rip. It sounded funny as it went into mymouth, but it's taste was anything but. I could taste some of the foodshe had eaten earlier, with a hint of all that wine, mixed with astrong shit odor. It was obvious to me that this girl had to go. Ifought off an impending orgasm so that I could enjoy the even greaterdelights that were clearly in store.
"Whew!" she laughed. "I can smell that up here! Poor baby! Butyou loved it didn't you? You want even more, don't you?"
I looked at the impossible beauty of the globes of her ass pressedagainst my face, and knew in my heart that my destiny was to eat hershit whenever she deigned to feed it to me. I simply nodded withoutremoving my face from her ass.
"This is my favorite way to come, Brad, did you know that?" she saidand she began stroking her clit. It reminded me of the very first timewe had done this over a decade ago. "Lick my asshole, like a goodlittle slave preparing to eat his mistress's shit, Brad. Show me howmuch you appreciate this treatment by lovingly licking my asshole."
She was so much more verbal now! I loved it! I went about thebusiness of trying to make her feel comfortable to abuse me in theworst way, tasting every wrinkle of her asshole, and then pushing mytongue up inside. It seemed easier to get my tongue up there than Iremember from the past. It slid easily in, and I found myself openingmy jaw painfully to slip it in just that extra quarter inch or so. Iloved the feeling of her beautiful sphincter wrapped around the base ofmy tongue, and the thought of where the rest of my tongue wasembedded.
Then I tasted shit for the first time in 10 years. It startedslowly down her anal canal and I licked the tip of this obsceneexcrement cock. I could feel her furiously rubbing her clit. I heardher moaning softly, then she would bear down with a gentle grunt. Hershit came closer and closer to the end of it's journey, with mefrantically licking every nook and cranny, burying my tongue in thesofter spots. Shit tastes every bit as bad as you imagine it to, but Iwouldn't have it any other way. I wanted to suffer for her whim. Itmade the abuse so much more real and personal.
"Oooh, yes!," she cried, and she began to come. "Oooh yes! Eat it,you worthless shiteater! Eat my shit when you get me off! Yes, eatshit!"
Somehow her words stung in a way that our kinks had never donebefore. She cut through the veneer of my older age and wisdom like ahot knife through soft butter, and made me feel more degraded than Iimagined was humanly possible. And then her shit pushed it's way outof her asshole and into my mouth! And I once again I proved that I wasa bottom feeder in this world, sucking and chewing on her shit as fastas I could. I was more concerned about making sure I could eat fastenough so that she could keep a continuous flow of shit into my mouththan I was with the sheer outrage of being made to eat another humanbeing's waste.
She was always a violent cummer, and this time was no different. Her body wracked with waves of pleasure as she made me eat shit, and Iwas so absorbed in the stinging humiliation of it all that I surprisedmyself when I began to come too, right in my own pants. I rememberedvaguely that in the midst of all of this, I hadn't even taken myclothes off. I realized that this was all about her and her pleasures,her cruel pleasures, and I loved it. I became convinced at that momentthat my young crush on her was no crush after all. Angie was theperfect woman.
After her orgasm subsided, she lay there satsified and happy, like aspoiled brat princess, and let me finish the task of eating her shit,then licking her ass clean. I didn't even have to be told to kiss herasshole afterward in gratitude. That was something that we hadestablished that summer so many years ago, and I was stillwell-trained.
She didn't move as she said, "God, I almost forgot how good it canfeel to do something like that to someone else! Mmmmmm... you evenremembered to kiss my asshole in thanks! You ARE spoiled, you luckybastard, getting shit on by someone like me!" And then she gave me oneof those wonderful derisive laughs.
My humiliation kept me silent. I felt like the bottom in an abusiverelationship; the addict that can't stop themselves from destroyingthemselves for the other party. It felt horrible and wonderful at thesame time. It was the feeling a voluntary slave should have.
She broke the silence after a few minutes.
"Brad, I'm tired. All that wine is getting to me. Do me a favorand leave your phone number on the pad on that desk over there. I'dlike to get together with you again sometime, maybe. It's been niceseeing you."
It was barely 9 o'clock. I was stunned by this apparent dismissal. It was not how I expected this to turn out. Not that I had a clearidea of what might happen, but... I quickly scribbled down my numberon the pad, and went over to the bed, where Angie was still sprawledout in all of her wonderful naked beauty. I leaned down and kissed hercheek and said, "It's been good seeing you too! Call me, Angie..."
And then I turned and walked out.
I heard her chuckle and say, "Your breath stinks!" just before Iclosed the door. I paused for a moment, then thought it would be bestto just leave.
Perhaps the most embarrassing thing about it is that I really waitedwith bated breath every day after that for her call.
About two weeks later, she finally did...