Observation

She came into the living room, where she knew he was waiting. She wore a simple but flattering black cocktail dress, sheer black stockings, and high spike heels. Her short brown hair was brushed to a shine, long gold earrings dangled from her lobes; her gamine’s face was lovely, her lips glossy and inviting.

“Are you ready to go right now?” he asked. Stern overtones remained in his voice, and his face was no more relaxed than hers.

“Yes.”

“Hands against the wall.”

She put her clutch purse aside, faced the wall, and bent forward, bracing herself on her arms. He lifted her dress; when its tightness no longer restrained her legs she spread them wide. Her black lace thong panties accented crimson buns above burning upper thighs.

He pulled her panties down until they stretched tautly between her beautiful legs.

He picked up the short, heavy leather strap. “I am refreshing your spanking to emphasize the topic we spoke about. I’ll be concentrating on your sit-spot, to make sure I know where your attention is for the rest of the evening.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He began to ply the strap: its sharp sounds rang loud. Crack! Crack! Crack! Every smack stung like a thousand wasps. Yelping was permitted, kicking prohibited; so she yelped and stood still.

He paused. “Three more, each side, extremely hard.” The last strokes found the tenderized junctures of thighs and bottom, with terrible precision.

“Fix your clothes,” he said, putting the strap down. He turned to the living room couch, where their 16-year-old baby-sitter sat, trembling and wide-eyed, unable to turn away. “Take good care of Jamie, please,” he said to her. “We’ll be back by midnight for sure.”

— Frenulum

Something to think about

“Should is going to kill you.”

Spectacle

The thunder was continuous; silence banished, almost hard to recall. It was as if a hundred aspiring thunder gods were competing for ascendancy, hurling their most terrible winds at each other from every corner of the sky.

Lightning, too, was not a matter of a flash here or a bolt there; rather an aurora-like shimmer of varying intensities, the brightest spots hurtling around the horizon but no place ever dim.

The clouds were a photographer’s soft-box for the lightning, so that when a backyard tree became an x-ray of a tree, it was limned against pure, bright white, intense and sky-filling, throwing each wind-whipped leaf into the sharpest imaginable relief.

There was rain as well, but hard and insistent as it was, it was pitiful against the majesty and violence of the noise and brilliance.

A good night to sit up, neglect sleep, and marvel.

— Frenulum

A walk in the park

As I walked the long path toward the beach, young men — teens and twenties — hurried the opposite way, toward the parking lot. Some looked confused, clutching their towels and coolers and toys; they all looked determined.

When I turned the last curve and saw the beach area, the sight was familiar. On the beach proper: families with tots and toddlers. Mostly moms, a few dads. Pails and float toys, picnics and squeals of laughter and excitement. On the opposite side of the path, on the grass: bikini-clad sunbathers stretched on towels, a menu for an appreciative man. Just girls, now, the boys having fled.

The families focused toward the shore. None turned around to see the events on the grass.

It’s funny how a certain style comes to adhere to every lake. At this one, bikinis are string-sided, with bare skin showing from ankle to bra strap. Quite delightful.

I sat on a picnic bench, my back to the table, and contemplated the menu. Girls turned over from time to time to toast the other side; they tended to do so in unison per cluster, which I have always found endearing.

Then the first one approached me, walking toward the bench with an appealing twitch in her hips. “Hi,” she said, “My name is Brooke.” She reached behind her back, and untied her top. When it was free, she put it on the picnic table, leaning over me and brushing one bare breast against my cheek. She straightened up and untied the bottom of her suit. “I have been with one boyfriend, and we’ve done vaginal and oral sex,” she continued, tossing the swimsuit panties on the table. “Well… I’ve sucked him — he hasn’t done me, yet. I wish he would.” With a formal curtsey she turned and went back to her blanket.

“Hi. I’m Christie. I’m a virgin,“ said the next girl, as she stripped out of her tiny suit and tossed it over my shoulder onto the table. A cutie indeed, petite and perky, with her pussy bare just as I like.

“Hello, my name is Allison. I’ve had three lovers, and except for anal I’ve tried everything.” One girl after another followed, giving me an introduction, a sexual history, and a strip show; each returned to her spot to sun in the nude, as the bikinis piled high on the picnic table.

When they were all arrayed before me, I chose two of the virgins. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to protect against disease. Reading minds can pick out the ones who know they are carriers, but not the ones who are unaware. It would be a nice change to enjoy some experience, but I can’t risk it. The two selected girls gathered up their clothes, purses, and so on, and walked with me to the car. To get things started, I had them stop every now and then for a kiss.

As we pulled away, I released my hold on the park. Even from such a distance, the astonished screams and squeals of the naked sunbathers put a smile on my face. One of these days I think I’ll just stick around, sitting at the table full of mixed-up bikinis, and watch.

— Frenulum

Tabitha’s turn

(A sequel to Another Step)

“Caro, could I…”

“What?”

“No — never mind.”

“What?” Carolyn insisted.

“Well… would it be ok if, um…” Tabitha paused, blushed, swallowed. “If I — only if it’s totally ok with you — um… looked at you? Like, a little bit more carefully?”

“Look at me?” asked Carolyn, momentarily perplexed.

“At, like, your… pussy?”

Carolyn regarded her best friend for a few quiet seconds. Then, in answer, she rose to her knees, unfastened her uniform kilt, pulled it off, and dropped it on the floor by the bed, joining her panties. Watching Tabitha’s face, she stretched out on her back, and finally spread her legs apart.

On elbows and knees, Tabitha crept closer, until her head was between Carolyn's parted thighs. Carolyn felt breath, soft and warm, caressing her.

"Um. Could, um… could you, like, show me kind of, more inside?" Tabitha asked, with a tremor in her voice.

"You do it."

"Oh," said Tabitha. Carolyn’s sudden confidence — even boldness — was difficult to adapt to. With uncertain fingers she reached out, touched her best friend forever, and opened her.

“Oh god,” Tabitha whispered. “It’s… if the pictures in the textbook were good, I would have —”

“What?”

“You’re so… interesting. And pretty. Is this where…”

“I pee.”

“Yes. It’s so tiny. I can hardly see it. Caro, can I ask you something like, super lame and stupid?”

“Yes.” Carolyn put all of her reassurance into her voice.

“How big is a penis?” asked Tabitha.

“I don’t know exactly. But…” Carolyn made a circle with her fingers. “Something like this, I think.”

"Yeah but," said Tabitha. "But… I mean, I thought so too, but… you're just like…"

“That’s the virgin thing,” said Carolyn. “How it has to stretch the first time, or tear even. That’s what the first-time-hurts deal is all about.”

“Oh. Am I…”

“Just like me,” Carolyn said.

“Oh. Ok. I guess… ok, I get that.”

Tabitha looked intently at her friend, opened up in front of her eyes, prettier than a textbook and far more intimate, close, personal. A treasure.

“Can I do that to you?”

“What?” Carolyn asked, but she knew.

“The same. Make you… like you did for me… you know.”

“Please,” said Carolyn.

— Frenulum

Another step

(A sequel to Study Group)

Carolyn sat up on the bed. Tabitha lay panting, trembling, with her eyes closed; Carolyn watched her fondly, her initial shyness gone. She looked between Tabby’s wide-spread legs at the feminine flower she had just come to know so well, admiring the glistening folds of her lips and the swollen bud of her clitoris. Tabitha’s hymen fascinated her: so much a topic of hushed talk and rumor amongst the tartlets, but never confronted so clearly and boldly. It looked more robust than fragile, a more daunting barrier than the stories suggested; Carolyn wanted to touch it with her fingers as her tongue had just done.

Minutes passed until Tabitha’s eyes fluttered open. When she caught Carolyn’s gaze her face flushed deep pink. She grabbed a corner of a sheet, to pull it over her nudity, but it was caught, and eventually she stopped trying. “Thanks, Caro,” Tabby said. “I know that… I mean, it wasn’t easy, I know, to… well, help me so much.”

“I liked it,” Carolyn said simply. And mustering a last scrap of courage added, “I liked licking your pussy.” When the words were out she blushed, but her gaze held Tabitha’s eyes.

Tabitha’s face grew suddenly serious. “It’s a sin, isn’t it?” she asked. “A mortal sin — sex except with your husband, right?” She propped herself up on her elbows, paying no attention to her parted legs or wet, open pussy. “We both have to go to Confession this Saturday.”

“Won’t help,” Carolyn replied.

“Why?”

“’Cause to confess you have to be sorry,” Carolyn answered. “I’m not sorry. I don’t regret anything. I’m happy I sucked you, and I liked it, and if you let me I’ll do it again. If that’s a sin then… I don’t care.”

Tabitha bit her lip and studied her friend’s resolute expression.

She leaned forward, took Carolyn’s head in her hands. Drew her close.

They kissed.

Neither girl had given or received a serious kiss. For a few seconds, it was awkward. After a few seconds, it was normal, natural, intense, delicious, essential, vital.

When they came up for air, Tabitha said, “Um… this is… kinda… practice for having boyfriends, right?”

Carolyn kissed her again. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m… a little confused — a lot confused and not ready and — and… I don’t know. We’ll see.” Their next kiss was longer, deeper, and not at all uncertain.

— Frenulum

You know you›ve reached a certain age…

…when you find yourself steering for the curb cuts at street corners…

…while out on a walk.

— Frenulum