Party Time/Party Time.iso/pt/story/booksale.txt

Text File | 1992-12-08 | 17KB | 281 lines

                                    Book Sale
                                    by Carol

    My sister and I are dressed in skirts and small, rather thin sweaters,
with no bras or underwear, of course... Chris has just combed my hair, and I
go down to open the door for our friends, but I'm wrong: it isn't them. It's a
rather large man at the door.

    "Good afternoon," the man says. "I am selling collections of books, bound
in real leather, and I would like to suggest that you take a look at some of
them."
    "Thank you, but my parents are not here now, and personally, this does not
interest me."
    "I wouldn't disturb you long." (He takes a book bound in green leather
from his black suitcase and holds it in his left hand.) "Look, this is a book
on the first world war, very complete and very beautiful, a wonderful choice
for any library."
   "Yes, but... Really this doesn't interest me. You would be wasting your
time."
    "Hey guys, are you coming up?" my sister calls from the top of the stairs.
    "It's a man," I tell her.
    With these words of my sister, the man raises his head, and I see what he
sees: my sister, at the top of the stairs. From where we were, we could see
perfectly, under her dress, the beginnings of the black hair of her vagina.
    "So really, um, none of this would interest you?" the man asks, somewhat
troubled, it seems to me.
    "Why is he here?" my sister calls.
    "He's selling books on the first world war."
    "Oh, but I do not have only books on the war," he says.
    "What else then?" my sister asks, arriving downstairs, now staring at the
man.
    "Well, actually, I have all sorts of books. If I may come in and put down
my suitcase, I can show you all that I have."
    "OK, show them to us," Chris said. "But I warn you: we don't have any
money. It's just for curiosity."
    "That doesn't make any difference," the man said. "You might buy them
another time, or speak with your parents, who are not home now?"
    "That's right. They're not home."
    The man comes in, and we lead him to the living room. He puts his suitcase
on the table and takes out several books.

    "See, this one has nothing to do with the war."
    We come closer, on either side of him. He is really very big. At least 6'
3", and over 200 pounds.  The title of his book is "The Brothers Karamazov."
The binding and paper are really quite beautiful. My sister is delighted by
the books the man takes from his suitcase. After the Dostoyevski, there are
Victor Hugo and other classical novelists.
    With each book, Chris says "Oh yes, they are beautiful. That is a very
beautiful book. What others do you have?"
    "That's all I have here," the man says.
    "But no, there are still two books in the bottom of your suitcase," my
sister says.
    "Unfortunately, I would guess that you are less than 18 years old, and
those books are forbidden to minors."

    "Oh! Show them to us... Just a little glance. Don't you want to see them,
Steph?"
    "Yes, show them to us," I said.
    "They are erotic Phoenician and Japanese etchings," the salesman says.
"Rather 'crude,' you know..." Then he seems to decide, suddenly. "Well, after
all, it's only natural."
    "Exactly," Chris says.
    The man gives one book to Chris and the other to me. I get the Japanese
etchings. I learn a lot in the first pages. One etching on each page (this was
a rather large format book), and each represents one or several men with one
or several women, doing everything that can be done. I glance at Chris's book.
It's the same sort of thing.
    "Well, you see," says the man, "these are not for you. I will put them
away."
    "No, no," says my sister. "Let me see all of them..."
    "These interest you?" says the man.
    "Heh, heh. Not bad," we say, almost at the same time.
    "Well, then. Look at them. But hurry up, just the same."

    We are leaning forward, standing up, to the right and left of the man, our
elbows on the table, looking at the books. This begins to affect me,
somehow...  Then he puts his hands on our buttocks, on top of our skirts...
     I look at Chris. She says nothing. Neither do I.
    The man caresses our buttocks over our skirts. He gently massages each
part of our round behinds with his large hands. This is rather nice. My sister
and I, showing no emotion, continue to turn the pages of the books.
     The man is getting excited, I'm sure. He puts his hands very gently under
our skirts. He already knows that my sister has no underwear, but he must  be
happily surprised that I wear none either. Now he rubs the skin of our
buttocks, and soon, one of his fingers touches and caresses our anuses (well,
that's what he does to me, but I think he does exactly the same with my
sister, with his other hand.) This becomes nicer and nicer. We do not raise
our eyes, and we say nothing. Neither does the man.
    His finger becomes more and more insistent in trying to enter my anus.
Then his fingers slip lower, between our thighs, toward our vaginas, and he
withdraws his fingers, very wet. This time he will bury his finger in my anus
with no problem...
    It must be his middle finger, because it seems rather long to me. He
buries this finger as far as possible and starts to move it inside. This
affects  me marvelously... Sometimes Chris does this to me, but her fingers
are  smaller, and the effect is smaller.
    The man is always moving his finger, and even bending it closed,
sometimes, inside of me. I'm having a hard time not saying anything, but I
can't help pushing my buttocks backwards and sort of rotating my behind. I
become  aware that my sister is doing the same thing. There is no longer any
question of turning the pages of our books. Our arms are on the table, with
our heads down between our arms. Each of the man's hands are doing marvelous
work.
    Chris and I have the same idea at the same time: we move our arms on the
man's side, leaving our heads on our other arms, to the man's fly, which is
standing up, rather straight.

    Chris and I--our fingers sort of argued over this pleasure--are undoing
the buttons of his fly, and I am the first to touch his penis. I take it out
of  his pants.  I am very excited. The finger in my anus is leading me to an
orgasm, and I have never come this way, and I am holding a penis in my hand,
which I look at, turning my head: it is a beautiful thing, rather long,
standing  out clearly, and I start to caress it, gently. I discover how nice
it is to stroke a man this way. His penis is very warm and satiny in my hand;
his skin is like fine velvet, and the motion of my hand to and fro is
intoxicating to me; and then, this finger in my anus...

    Chris is not inactive: she takes out his testicles and holds them
delicately in her hand; sometimes her hand joins mine, and we caress the man
together, who says nothing. I find this silence extraordinary. It is the
silence of the deaf, full of so many things, so many thoughts, so much
concentration on one end: climax.
    The man is going to make me come, and I am shaking now. Chris is going to
come too. This is a revelation for us. Oh how wonderful. As I am coming I
caress the man very, very quickly, instinctively, but he does not want to
climax now, because he says the first word in ten minutes.
    "Gently."
    Chris and I slow the rhythm of our caresses.

    The man takes his fingers out of us and moves between us. We take our
hands away from his penis. He sort of moves us a bit closer to each other and
says "Stay in this position. Don't move at all. Stay close to each other."
    We put our arms back on the table, with our heads on our arms again, and
our buttocks protruding well behind. I don't know what the man is going to do,
but I feel ready for anything. Having come so recently only makes me more
excited. My sister, is in the same state, I'm sure.
    The man puts our skirts up on our backs and discovers two magnificent
pairs of buttocks.
    "Spread your legs apart a little bit," he says.
    We do this.
    "Push your behinds back a little bit. There. Like that. Yes."
    His hands caress our derrieres: that is sweet, that is nice. Oh yes. And
then he puts his finger in my anus again. Which is fine, really  fine. I never
would have guessed. Chris shouts a small "Ouch!"
    "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you.
    I turn my head a little bit, and I became aware that it isn't a finger
that the man is bringing back to my sister's anus, but his penis. He is going
very gently, wetting his penis with lots of saliva. Chris says nothing more. I
stop looking, and at a certain moment, the man says "Voila. I am completely
inside you."
    I look at Chris's face. She does not seem to be in any pain. In fact, she
looks transported, and a phrase comes to mind, "in the ass!" Chris is taking a
man in the ass. We had spoken sometimes about this and we wondered what it
would be like. Well. Now Chris knows. But how about me? I hope he does the
same with me. I would like to say "Will you do this with me, too?"

    Chris's body moves against mine: the man moves inside her. He does not
forget me: his finger moves wonderfully in my behind.
    "Oh, little sister. This is wonderful," Chris says suddenly. "Yes. Go
ahead. Keep going. I'm going to come faster than I ever have. Go ahead. Don't
be afraid. It doesn't hurt."
    "Do you like it this way?" asks the man, whose voice had changed, I
noticed.     "Oh!  Yes, yes."
   "You two sleep together, eh? Two very sexy young women. And what do you
say to a man, eh? Is it nice to have a man this way?"
    The words the man uses are exciting me. And I see Chris more and more
"detached."
    "Ooh! Yes. Go ahead! I'm coming! Yes, yes, yes, wow! Oh, your cock in my
ass! Oh! I'm exploding. Go, go... quickly, quickly, quickly... Aaaah.."
    Chris comes as I've seldom seen her come: her nails scratch the table, she
moves like a madwoman and finally crushes herself on the edge of the table,
breathless, exhausted and satisfied.

    And I still have the man's finger in my anus. I turn around. I hope he
hasn't come. I don't believe so: he takes his penis out of Chris, and it is
still straight and long.
   "And now it's your turn, cherie. And you, turn around the way you were.
After this, I'll be able to put two fingers in this little hole of your
behind."

    Chris obeys. And I see the man's index and middle fingers go into Chris's
behind without difficulty. She has a little smile of satisfaction. She looks
like she really enjoys this. The man withdraws his fingers.
    "You will see that you will love this as much as your sister, cherie."
    I hide my head again in my arms, and this time I know it's Chris who is
watching. The man wets his fingers in my vagina and moistens my anus well.
Soon I feel his penis beginning to push and rub a passage into me. The pushing
intensifies, and I feel his penis sliding within me. I feel the entry,
fraction by fraction, in every fiber of my body. I had a little pain at the
beginning, but now I no longer feel any pain, just an infinite gentleness
invading my entrails.
    He enters me more and more, and the more this happens, the more I feel a
certain sweetness and fire at the same time. So that's how it is. How
marvelous. I would like to feel this way always. Suddenly I seem to understand
gay men. If this is what they feel, they are right.
    The man's belly is plastered against my buttocks now, and I know that all
of his sex is inside me. I feel fine, deliciously fine. I know also that he
must be expertly caressing Chris's behind with his two fingers, and I'm sure
that she feels fine, too.
    "Because you waited, I will give you something more than your sister."
    The man's free hand passes in front of me, and voila, he starts to caress
my clitoris.
    "I want to make you come twice, cherie. Once caressing you, without moving
within you, but deeply buried in your lovely behind, as I am now, and a second
time as it should be done, that is to say, moving within you, as I did with
your sister. Meanwhile your sister, whose derriere was so welcoming, can
caress herself while I have my fingers inside her."
    Chris doesn't know what to say this time, and I see her arm slipping
between her thighs.
    "Do you like my cock in your ass?"
    "Yes..." I said. "Oh, yes."
    The man crushes up still more strongly against me. I have my belly against
the edge of the table. His hand starts to caress me then, while he is
literally planted inside me like a stake. Oh, how well he caresses me. This
man is marvelous. His fingers go from the inside of my vagina to my clitoris,
which he squeezes, sometimes, very lightly between two fingers (my clitoris is
rather large), and caresses like a man's penis. With this marvelous rubbing, I
leave the earth again.
    "Good?" Chris asks.
    "Oh, yes!"
    The man's fingers move faster and faster as he explores my vagina and rubs
my clitoris very very quickly. When he senses that I'm about to come, he
caresses only my clitoris, with his middle finger, and seems to withdraw from
me a little, pushing his abdomen less against my buttocks, and at the exact
moment when I come, he buries his penis in me again, with a terrible thrust of
his pelvis, deeper than he had been before now, and a veritable tornado shakes
my body.

    "Catch your breath, little one. Now you are going to see what it is really
like to have me inside you! But before that, I'd like to know if your sister
just came."
    "Not yet," Chris said.
    "Well. Let's turn our attention to her for a moment, then."
    And all the while staying inside me, he replaces Chris's hand between her
thighs with the hand he caressed me with, while moving her sort of diagonally
against me. He still has two of his fingers in my sister's anus, and he begins
to caress her in front, as he did with me, all the while moving his fingers in
her anus. My sister throws her head back. The man is making her come by
rubbing her clitoris in a very jerky way, very fast.
    "Oooohh..."
    "Delicious, no?" the man says to my sister.

    Chris comes, in a long and intense climax that leaves her body sort of
jerking, well after the man moves her back to the first position, perhaps
because he seems to be keeping his fingers in her behind.
    "Now it's your turn," he says to me.
    I was waiting with impatience. While he was caressing my sister, I was
feeling his penis swell up inside of me, and I was moving a little bit for the
pleasure of feeling it move.
    His free hand squeezes my body and he starts to move inside of me, at
first slowly. Each time his sex almost leaves me, but then he puts it back in
slowly, all the way to the end. With each movement, a marvelous warmth that I
have never known before, grows in my body. I burn with an intense pleasure,
now beginning inside me. Ah, this man with his penis in me. Very nice. He
comes back in. He leaves. He comes back in. He leaves. He goes faster now, and
his arm squeezes me more strongly to crush my body against him. I am on fire.
My climax is coming from very far away, and I feel it coming gently, sweetly,
growing, becoming measureless. The man now moves at a crazy speed within me.
My orgasm arrives. Oh! It is There. I am going to scream... He goes so quickly
inside me--in my ass. I am going to scream. I scream. I bite my arm. I want to
move my buttocks wildly, but his arm prevents that, and I scream louder still
when he gives me two last enormous thrusts and I feel his penis piercing right
through me, and I feel his marvelous orgasm, along with mine.
    He stays there a few moments, without moving. I feel his rapid breathing
against my neck, and finally, he withdraws gently. I no longer have the
strength to say a word, and I am going to silently fall into an armchair,  my
body still moving with little spasms after the climax. Chris does the same in
another chair. What an experience. It's not possible. It's not imaginable.
    When I look at the man again, he is buttoning his fly.
    "So. That was good?"
    Smiles from both of us.
    Now the man seems a little more distant. Formal, as he had been when he
arrived. He looks a little bit ugly to me. We don't know what to say. And he
does the most intelligent thing that he can: he puts away his books in his
suitcase and heads for the door. But before leaving, he says:
    "If your parents want some books..."
    Then he leaves.