Dick Martin - Virginia_s wet lips

Virginia lay down and rested for about an hour. At six she got up and took a bath, then changed into a pant suit she favored. It was one of the currently fashionable patchwork styles, and she knew she looked exceptionally good in it. She left her gorgeous hair loose and long, streaming down over her shoulders. It was a pleasant evening. Virginia decided to walk it. She reached his house at exactly seven-thirty.

Virginia went up the eight steps of the sandstone stoop to the doorway, intent on locating Burt's buzzer. There was only one.

She pressed it. At moment later, the doorbell hummed and she pushed it inward and stepped into the hall. Once inside, her suspicion was confirmed: He owned the entire building. Burt stepped out into the hail, and met her. Buthigh from the wine. And she was feeling something else, too: There was an insistent throbbing in her crotch. Her cunt was blazing hot, and she could feel the tickle of damp moisture between the blood-engorged lips. She was almost constantly fighting back the urge to reach down and nib her twat. Burt opened a cabinet and brought over a tray containing a number of small bottles. One by one, he named the contents of each but skipped over the last, an unlabeled bottle of clear liquid.

"What's that one?" she asked. "Oh, well, have you ever had anisette?"

She nodded. "Well, this is called absinthe. Anisette is a poor imitation of anisette. Would you like to try some, lovely lady?"She nodded. Instead of the gesture being graceful, it became a drunken tilt. She giggled at the realization of her own tipsiness.

Burt smiled patronizingly and poured her a small glass of the clear liquid. It had a faint greenish tinge to it and a potent aroma.

"Come, let us return to the living room," Burt invited. "You look a bit flushed."

"Why, that's a very good idea," she said, conscious and uncaring that her words were slightly slurred. Burt offered her his arm. She stood and staggered just a little against the edge of the table. Burt was smiling, still, as if her drunkenness was something pleasantly amusing.

"Ohhhhh that feels good!" Virginia said sincerely as she fell heavily onto the sofa.

"That dinner was scrumptious," she said, hugging herself."

"Burt, I'm just a little warm a little high, too."

She giggled. "So if you don't mind…"Without waiting for any reply, she unbuttoned her pant suit jacket and slipped out of it. She wore a lightweight turtleneck top beneath it and, as always, she was braless. She looked down at the firm jutting thrust of her large tits and noted that her nipples were quite clearly swollen under the fabric.

She looked up again. Burt was out of the room. She was no longer able to resist the impulse. Virginia reached between her legs and rubbed her cunt-mound with the fingers of one hand, sighing deeply at the pressure on her clitoris and swollen pussy-lips. She was so hot, so turned on. She wished Burt would make some kind of a pass at her. If his expertise in the sack matched his knowledge in the kitchen…

She stopped, suddenly, and glanced around. Still no sign of Burt. Quickly, she drained the last of the absinthe from her glass and put it back on the coffee table. Again she glanced around. No Burt. Giggling softly, slyly, Virginia rubbed her pussy through her pants with enthusiasm, thinking to give herself a quick come before Burt came back. She leaned her head back as the pleasures boiled through her body. Her eyes closed and that was oddly restful. She knew she should open her eyes to the room in case he returned, but she couldn't think of a good reason to do it..

Virginia awoke to find herself bound."What the" she began, tongue and lips thick with the alcohol she'd ingested earlier. She was staring up at a huge mirror, and she could see that she was naked, spread-eagled, on a black surface. She could see four faint beams of light from the far corners of the room twisting her head she could see the spotlights themselves all converging on her. Her creamy flesh and bright-red hair sone almost luminously against the black background, and she could feel the silky texture of the sheet beneath her."Ahhhh, so you've rejoined us."

She turned and tried to see Burt, but he was hidden in the blackness of the room beyond the area lit with the spots."What what are you going to do?" she asked,voice trembling with fear. Was he going to whip her? Beat her? What?"Well, anticipation may be the better part of pleasure, my dear, but I think I'd prefer to surprise you as we go along."

She caught her lower lip between her even white teeth."But don't worry, my dear, lovely, red-headed lady you won't be hurt. Oh my my no, you won't be hurt at all," and his voice trailed off into delighted chuckles.

He was nuts, she decided, totally, raving, absolutely bonkers and she had called him! But still, her cunt was throbbing, aching, her pussy drooling with excitement. She looked up at her reflection again and her eyes telescoped in on the sight of her wide-open snatch. She could make out the stiffened, aroused bud of her clitoris and, seeing it, the arousal rose through her still more powerfully and almost against her will. What's the matter with me? Why do I feel so fucking horny? She tensed as she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being opened followed by the rustle of clothes being shed.

"Are you familiar with absinthe, my dear?" Burt's disembodied voice asked.

"N-No."

"Hehehehehe" More rustling."Well, absinthe is a liqueur that's been banned in most of the civilized countries of the world. It has aphrodisiac powers, documented effects. Very potent." Her eyes widened.

"It received a bad rap, to use the vernacular, some years ago and was subsequently banned. It causes no physiological damage, though. Let me assure you, at least, of that." And when fine wines and certain foods are ingested in precise quantities. He broke off into chuckles again."Let us say that the absinthe was an optional item, that even without it, you were undoubtedly feeling some arousal. Is that so?" She nodded uncertainly.

"Ahh, yes. Well, it's always good to be reassured that one hasn't lost one's touch, shall we say? Indeed." And then he stepped forward. Virginia stared. He was incredibly skinny, barely more than a skeleton. He was also totally hairless and his skin was so pale that he looked about three days dead and ready for the maggots. He wore only a towel like affair, cinched about his waist, that reached down to the midpoint of his bony thighs.

"Let us begin," he said, as if he were about to prepare a meal. Burt bent and from somewhere beneath the bed withdrew a black satin covered pillow. It wasn't stuffed at all, but was a single rectangular bulge of cushioned fabric. As he climbed up onto the bed beside her, Virginia tried to push her thighs shut but couldn't. The bonds tying her were expertly measured. They held her legs completely straight out and spread, without pain but without slack, either. With surprising strength, he slipped one bony arm beneath her delicious ass-cheeks and lifted her crotch, then pushed the pillow beneath.

Now she was arched up backwards from the bed, with her cunt and inner thighs offered towards the mirror on the ceiling.

"Ah, perfection, perfection," Burt muttered, as if appraising a souffle just removed from the oven.

She shivered in mixed apprehension and arousal. Once again he bent, and Virginia heard a drawer sliding open. The bed, she guessed, was a platform bed and the frame contained drawers. What was in those drawers, she couldn't guess. That she would find out about their contents was, however, a certainty. Burt straightened, and in the mirror, Virginia saw her expression change from one of fear to puzzlement. Of all things in the world that he might have held, Burt was clasping a long feather, an ostrich plume, dyed bright, shocking red. Her vision focused on the tip of the feather as it weaved cobra-like through the air over her. She was oddly fascinated by it, and she watched distantly as the feather dipped slowly downward over her lushly curved nakedness. on the bed. It never reached her.