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“Come with me, Ariel.” Eric’s voice was far different than it had been in the three days since they had been married. Ariel wondered if she had done something to upset him. She hadn’t meant to do anything, and found herself filled with doubt. Was he angry because she had slipped and almost fallen during their first dance? She had pleaded for more time–after all, she had only had legs for three days.

“Where are we going?” she asked, as Eric led her down into the lower depths of the castle. She could smell the sea air and it made her think of her family, below. Although the castle was directly on the ocean, the lower depths of the castle were not dank.

“I want to show you something.”

“Are you mad at me?” She could hear far different tones in his voice.

“No, not at all. But I want to show you something that humans do. Just please, be quiet and follow me. I’m kind of nervous as it is.”

Something human! Ariel was delighted. She knew Eric wanted her to be quiet but couldn’t resist. She loved human things.

“A human thing? Really? What’s it like?”

“Well, not all humans do it. You’ll see.” He spun and speared her with his blue eyes, the same eyes that she had seen from the deck of the ship not a week ago.

Ariel was silent. But she did not have to remain silent long. Eric led her down the steps through a short hall, and then through a locked door. Ariel noticed he kept the key on a solitary ring. He opened the door and ushered her in.

The room was large, and relatively airy. Torches burned on all sides of the room, but they were recessed into the wall and unobtrusive. There were large things in the room. A cross of some sort. A table. A thing which looked like a large wooden X. A post with chains hanging from it. One entire wall was covered by a mirror. Ariel had never seen a mirror this large, not in the room Eric had put her in and certainly not in the shipwrecks she had prowled before.

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A nice evening at her place, I thought as we got out of the car. Good wine, a wonderful sex goddess, and a good dinner lying happily in my stomach. What else could a man ask for? “To fuck like crazed weasels,” I muttered as I watched Jennifer slink up the walkway, with her one flawless leg catching in the light from the street light. “What’s that, dear?” she said, pivoting to look at me. A flash of white skin caught the dim yellow light where the stump I’d been thinking about through dinner was. “Nothing, I was just muttering to myself. They tell me the insanity isn’t anything to worry about unless I start st-st-stu-stuttering.”

Her infectious laugh filled the still air as we went into her apartment. I walked in and took off my shoes and watched as she placed a crutch tip on either side of her red pump and lifted her right foot out in one fluid motion. She was worth another hungry look in the room light. That oft-admired bare leg was perfect right down to the way the toes curved. Her hips and backside were pushing against her tight death-by-red dress. A bit further up, her full breasts were pressing hard against the fabric, with firm little points crying out to be touched. Her pretty hands flexed around the grips of the aluminum crutches that helped her look so athletic.

Her eyes sparkled above her wide smile when I finally looked up at her pretty face. She turned and hugged me, and said, “Could you pour the wine? There are stem glasses in the cupboard above and to the left of the sink.” She then headed to the sofa as I uncorked the bottle and found the supplies I needed.

I thought about her as I made busy in the kitchen. I’d met her how long ago? Was it really only two weeks? From the first time I’d seen her hop past me at the pool, I’d been addicted. That stump, ending just above the knee, had just not been out of my mind since. But nor had her breasts, her earlobes, her very fingers – she was just everywhere! I’d almost jumped her in the Japanese restaurant earlier when, after I gave her right foot a good massage, she slipped said bare foot up above my ankle and started rubbing my leg. Yes, she’d be a dish in any language, and that truncated thigh just made it more exotic.

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Bobby was now glad for one important thing. That he had always thought that it was important that he always be in top physical shape. After all, not only was he soon to go into the service in a few months, but always being conscious of how he looked had always been an important factor in the way he felt.

There was also a third reason now why the 18-year-old man appreciated being in top shape. For the past hour now, he had been riding his bike either along with, or behind his most recent girlfriend, Barbi. And in spite of his knowing that at any time he could easily outrace her, he was constantly surprised and highly pleased when the 18-year old girl continually proved that she could stay right up with him. Like now, having ridden almost a mile up a steep hill, following close behind her to protect her from traffic, he was soon beginning to spend more and more time really ‘noticing’ her for the first time.

At first she was merely hunched over the bike handlebars, and as Bobby pulled up beside her, he had an unusual feeling deep within his loins as he noticed how her costume fit her. Her tiny cut-off T-Shirt, of a semi transparent material, was fluttering in the breeze, and from his position slightly behind her, Bobby gulped as he noticed that he could stare into the deep gap under her shirt and see the soft curve of her under breasts.

He was amazed to see that in spite of her not too small size breasts, she needed no artificial support. He could see her hard, flat tummy. He saw that her stomach was extremely flat, almost like a block of cement. He could see the only crease in her body, at her waist, almost hiding her tiny indented belly button. And then the slight curve of her lower belly before it disappeared into the low cut hip band of her jogging shorts. Like the material of her shirt, it was semi-transparent, and in fact at time he could see the bright sunlight through the thin material, seeing parts of her body that really surprised him.

Now, the most exotic feature of her totally overwhelmed Bobby. As the hot sun blazed down on their heavily sweating bodies, even his flesh looked sexy. As the sun gleamed off the muscles that were tensing and relaxing. As his arms and legs worked that bike up the hill. Yet it was nothing compared to the body of Barbi. And why? Simple. Because this wonderful young woman was in fact a black woman. Not pure black, but her flesh was the color of dark coffee, with just a twinge of cream. And as each muscle of her body tensed, strove to move that bicycle along the narrow country road, the bright, burning sun gleamed off her flesh, highlighting it in such a manner that made her look as if she were made of polished mahogany. The special effect caused by her body being completely coated with a sheen of perspiration made her look like a Queen of the Nile.

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I am an 18-year-old female with long, wavy brown hair and a 36-24-35 figure. It takes a lot to turn me on, so I’m just friends with the guys in my neighborhood, but I like to dress in sexy outfits for the pleasure of their stares. A month ago, a new family moved in down the street, and I decided to welcome my new neighbors and get acquainted with them. They had a very attractive daughter my age named Kay, and it wasn’t long before we were good friends.

One day after Kay’s family had settled in, I went over to pick her up to go shopping. As I pulled into the driveway, I saw the most handsome guy imaginable shooting baskets. He was my height with long, black, spiked hair and an incredible body — all the more evident because he wore only a pair of jams. I was mesmerized by his beauty. Kay came out, and I eagerly asked her who the hunk was. “My brother,” she replied. “Isn’t he cute!” I soon found out that Kay’s parents had adopted Vin as a child. “Do you like him?” Kay asked.

“He’s hot!!” I replied with a big smile. We both walked up the driveway, and Kay introduced us. I looked Vin over from head to toe, and the sight of the sweat pouring down his body made my panties randy with excitement. I could tell that Vin was also impressed by my assets –accentuated by a white cotton halter top and tight black jogging shorts. Kay and I decided to shoot some hoops with Vin, and the three of us frolicked for a while. At one point, as I went in for a lay-up, Vin shocked me by accidentally grabbing my breast as I dribbled past him.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Foul!” Kay laughed. “I think we’ve all had enough,” she added.

As Kay led me to the house, I stared longingly at Vin. I hoped that he could see how aroused I was by his touch — my [tag]nipples[/tag] were so hard that they could be seen through the fabric of my top. Once inside, we drank some iced tea, but it did not cool the lust I felt for Vin. Soon he came in, and we sat around talking for a long time, forgetting that I had come to go shopping with Kay. I flirted with Vin by deliberately sticking my chest out and curving my body toward him. When I caught him staring, I got embarrassed. I’m kind of awkward in these situations, and I hoped I wasn’t fouling up.

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She always wore a black leather jacket, tight pants, and a hard ass expression on her face that could make a seasoned war veteran cringe. She was one of those bull dyke lesbian chicks, complete with short cropped hair, a nose and brow piercing, a thin metal chain dangling about her wide goddess hips, and an attitude towards men that screamed, “Don’t even think about it, bitch.” She was completely hands off to anyone with a penis. But I didn’t care. I lusted after her something fierce, all the same.

I’d try to hide my unrelenting desire to ravish her naked body in plain site by flirting with her like I would everything that walked on two legs. Which basically meant I’d push things as far as I could get away with… then I’d push just a tiny bit more.

Don’t get me wrong, I always believed her when she said she was exclusive to pussy… I’d seen her kiss and grope other girls with a genuine passion too many times not to. She just didn’t seem to mind my outrageous and superficial advances.

“What are you doing?” she mocked, almost indicating a shock response as my dexterous hands quickly wrapped themselves around her plump breasts.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I seem to have lost my boobs, and I noticed yours look very familiar. They’re just so beautiful I had to make sure they weren’t mine.”

“Uh… I’m pretty fucking sure…”

“Shh… I’m concentrating,” I whispered, eyes closed, while my thumb and index fingers searched for her nipples – which became much easier when they decided to peak through her shirt, nice and erect.

“Oh, no… these aren’t mine. When your erect nipples come to attention they’re far more pretty then mine. Sorry for the mix up.” I smiled sweet, pulled my hands away, and patted her on the butt.

“Thank you?” she said, with one poignantly thin eye-brow raised.

“Any time,” I said, before I winked at her, and continued to talk about whatever non-sense was on my mind at the time.

They really were beautiful breasts. I can’t think of a more delicious pair of big juggies then the busty fun bags on my hardcore bull dyke. Especially when she wore low-cut white under-shirts, without a bra, that let her bosom practically fall out. Her’s were breasts worth fantasizing about – worthy of lazy afternoons filled with lotion covered hands and an active erotic imagination. But then, the forbidden fruit always does seem tastier then what’s in the picnic basket, eh?

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