The Land of Milk and Honey

Chapter 1 – “What was your name again?”

I haven’t been a nymphomaniac all my life… I think there was a three day period right after my mother died when I didn’t even think about sex. I’m just naturally horny, so I can’t accept blame for being caught sitting on a man’s lap outside on the balcony. We were talking about municipal bonds and generally enjoying Sherry’s party and the next thing I knew, we were working on ‘bonds’ of a completely different sort. My skirt was up around my waist and my blouse would never be the same. The man I was seated on… I can’t seem to remember his name… was trying to get up and explain, which was both stupid and unnecessary. For one thing, it was totally obvious what we were doing, no explaination was required. And for another, it forced me off his thighs and right onto my arse.

Now mind you, it didn’t especially embarrase me to be caught doing the wild-thing in public. I’ve got no pretenses on what kind of a girl I am. But going from carnal ecstasy to slapping pavement with my hind quarters puts me right off.

‘Tom,’ my galliant knight, was stammering something about how it was my idea and that he was just sitting there minding his own business and how he didn’t know what came over me and… I used my debased position to plant my left foot in his crotch. He was still trying to get his fly closed, but I knew I hit my mark when his jabbering came to an abrupt halt. I heard several other males gasp in shared pain as they watched their comrade sink slowly to the ground.

By now, Sherry had zeroed in on the disturbance and stood wide eyed as I pulled myself up and smoothed out my skirt. The blouse wouldn’t close properly, but I was hot anyway. Before she could say anything, I smiled, and walked past her, working the adage that the best way to avoid an argument is not to be there.

So much for the party. But the night was still young and sex makes me hungry. Which means that I am always looking for something to fill my belly… or other parts of my anatomy. Whatever. I needed food. I ignored the stares I got as I walked down the main drag of a town that barely appeared on my Mobil map. Sherry liked to live in the boonies. Not me… Well, not this boonie. This town would be about as much fun as funeral if not for her parties. I guess the locals just pretty much let her be. After all, she probably provided most of the town gossip.

I managed to get my blouse to a respectable state (which for me is just short of illegal) as I passed a smallish coffee shop aka used bookstore called the Blue Duck. I pondered the name for a moment until the most wonderfully sweet smell hit my nostrals. My feet were already inside before I realized that it was pastry… fresh baked pastry. Joy!

I was into my second frosted crossant when I noticed the decor of the shop before me. It felt as though I was stuck in the middle of a maze constructed solely of books. All around me were stacks of dust-coated paperbacks. Shelves of hardbacks formed passages just big enough for a person to move through. The only clear area was in the very center of it all, and that was filled by tables and chairs for food. But even those were mostly covered with stray books read by those waiting for their meals. It was a happy, cozy place, and I felt right at home.

I thanked the old woman behind the small counter at which I was seated as she refilled my coffee, and noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye for the third time. I carefully positioned the glass of my watch so that it reflected the area behind me and was rewarded with the face of a man, staring at me from behind a bookcase in the Travel section. His reflection wasn’t bad looking, and I noticed that my nipples had perked up a bit. It’s amazing to me that my body would want anything but food at the moment, but maybe it figured since I was already eating it would start on other interests.

I worked up a plan as I sucked down an eclaire, then moved to the far end of the book case which hid my admirer, so I could just peek through the books to get a better view of him. Lust is an amazing thing. It can completely distract you and turn all common sense to garbage. As I stared open-mouth at the well dressed man no more than ten feet away, I had to remind myself to breath. He was more than handsome. Beautiful!

If nothing else, I had to meet him. It was plain that he was interested in me. Even now he was looking back to the counter where I had my pastries, no doubt confused as to my whereabouts. He moved to the end of the shelf and began a more thurough visual search of the shop. This was the cue I was waiting for. I tip-toed around the back of the bookcase and planted myself directly in back of him. I was no more than four inches away and could easily make out the scent of his musk.

“Going someplace?” My words nearly caused him to knock over the bookcase.

He retrieved the book he had dropped and stood up before me. I noticed that he used the opportunity to take in my figure.

“Paris actually.” His voice was calm. Calm! I had just given him enough of a start to take his shoes off and already his voice was smooth and warm? I was impressed.

“Sounds nice. Going alone?” I tossed him one of my best ‘come-and-get-it’ grins.

“I haven’t decided.” Damn, this guy was quick. His smile told me almost nothing.

“I’ve always wanted to see Greece,” I said turning my attention to the bookshelf. “I hear they have public hot mud baths there.”

“Sounds a bit kinky to me.”

My nipples crinkled.

“You don’t like kinky,” I asked turning to face him again. He waited only a moment before answering.

“That depends. The term is a bit far-reaching.”

“You’re just avoiding the question.”

“Not at all. Define something kinky and I’ll tell you if I find it acceptable.”

Oh god! I wanted to jump that guy right there! Describe something kinky? I couldn’t make up my mind!

“How about being tied naked to a chair while someone covers you with honey and whip-cream.”

“Not bad. I think I could stand that. But it sounds fattening.”

“Not if you work it off with vigorous exercise.”

This time he smiled.

“It sounds like you’ve had a lot of experience.”

“With things kinky, or the exercise,” I asked innocently.

“Both!”

“I guess I’m above average.” Hell, I could get a doctorite in kinkiness. My admirer pondered this while searching titles.

“Here’s one on Greece,” he said reaching for a book closer to me. I reached up to beat him to it. We hit it at the same time and our hands touched. I swear it was like those static shocks you sometimes get when you scuffle your shoes across a carpeted floor. We turned and looked at each other for almost three long seconds.

“Do you want to get out of here,” I asked. I cringed inwardly, having used such a beaten cliche.

“Are you kidding? I have to warn you though…” Rats. Here it comes. “…I might end up taking you to France.” Oh! “I have a rather healthy libido.”

Outwardly I was calm and smiling. Inside I was doing somersaults. Not only did this guy seem to be my sexual equal as far as lust, but France!? I was growing hornier by the minute.

We purchaced the book on Greece, and one on Paris as we exited the Blue Duck. He asked if I had a car and I explained that I had taken a cab to a nearby party. He seemed pleased and told me to wait in front of the shop for a second. With that, he dashed around the corner.

I was just starting to wonder if he might have ditched me for something in a blond when a beautiful old red Roadster pulled up to the curb. My prince stepped out and opened my door (on the left side!).

The drive to his summer cabin was short, but incredibly frustrating. One thing I have learned is not to bother a man while he is driving. By ‘bother’ I don’t mean simple talk. It’s terribly unfair to tease a male (or a female for that matter) while their hands are stuck controlling a moving vehicle. When you play with a driver this way, you make them choose between you and death… and never underestimate the power of the mind to choose pleasure. I’ve seen war studies where the government actually found ways to keep a person from passing out during intense sexual orgasm. What they saw was that subjects kept it up until they overheated and died. Willingly! Not a bad way to go, but that’s not the point. So let your man drive and save the fun stuff for the bedroom… or the livingroom if you don’t make it that far.

By the time we pulled up to his 3000 square foot ‘cabin,’ I was a quivering bundle of energy. I almost attacked him the moment he turned off the engine. Once again he came around and opened my door. (I’m all for women’s liberation, but don’t knock what you can get for free! If a man wants to hold a door for me I won’t complain. Any smart woman knows that she can make a man do anything she wants anyway… It’s nice not having to remind them all the time.)

I made it to the front door, and even through his taking my coat once we were inside. But the smell of strawberries as we started into his livingroom was too much for me. There must be some link between sex and food, and I mean more than working up an appetite. I can’t be certain, (my head was all abuzz) but I’m pretty sure that I tripped him, and then proceeded to follow him down to the floor. My blouse was open before I hit the carpet. (Deep, luckily. We spent quite a bit of time there.) To my surprise, he seemed completely ready for my little stunt and was helping me get into his pants almost at once.

I never had undergarments on to start with, so all I had to do was hike up my skirt. I learned to avoid wearing panties whenever possible clear back in junior-high school. It saved time and in at least several instances, allowed for quick get-away’s. My parents knew I was a nympho and expected me to be the way I was. Not so for other parents, or teachers, coaches, librarians… etc.

That first twenty minutes or so might have been a little sloppy, but was by far the best sex I had had in weeks. There’s something incredibly erotic about fast-paced intercourse with a stranger. A stranger? Yes, a stranger. At that time we still didn’t even know each other’s name.

“My lady,” he said between boughts. “I must have your name.”

See!

“And will you also carry my colors and defend me as my galliant knight?” I was propped up on my elbows, my legs still astraddle his torso. I had this remarkable feeling of deja vu.

“Your knight? I don’t think the things I just did to you would be considered very knightly.” He shook my hips and sent a rush of tingles up my body.

“The knights were a bawdy bunch, the round table was just a hobby.”

“And so…”

“My name is Sara.”

“Sara,” he repeated softly.

“And might I also know by what you are called? Only fitting since we are still uh,… coupled.”

“I’m Trevor. I’m also hungry! Would you care to breakfast?”

“What?! Turned down for food? Besides, don’t you mean dinner? Or did I pass out after the second time?”

“You most certainly did not! Although I might have… And it doesn’t have to be morning to breakfast. You’ll see. I’m a good cook.” He started to shift me off his body, but I pinned him down.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

He struggled, but a man in that position is pretty vulnerable.

“I have a fast metabolism. I’m almost always hungry. I spent the first fifteen or so years of my life chomping on junk food until I got tired of it. So I learned to cook. Now I enjoy making food almost as much as eating it.” Once again he urged my hips sideways. This time I let him up.

Trevor really could cook, and breakfast definately does not have to be in the morning. We feasted on something he calls, Eggs in Paradise, which could easily be mistaken for simple pancakes and sunny-side up eggs to the untrained pallete. It was pure ambrosia, and just what I needed. I was wondering if we both might suffer from the same compulsion, sexual that is, when I looked up to see him grinning wickedly.

“What?… Are you ready for more,” I asked hoping.

“Pancakes?…” he said reaching for his plate.

“No, sex!” I was reaching for him.

“Hmmm… I seem to remember something about being tied naked in a chair, with honey and whipped cream.”

My eyes got wide.

“Is that what you want me to do to you,” I inquired with a smile.

“No,” he said agast. My heart sank. “That’s what I want to do to you!” I bit my lip.

“Really?!”

“Unless your imagination is bigger than…”

“Get me a rope! Now!”

The kitchen seemed like the easiest place to clean up afterward, so he brought in a ‘chair’ and produced a collection of silk scarfs. The contraption that I was to be tied to looked more like a lounge than a chair and was padded with vinyl cusions.

“Trevor! If you weren’t my galliant knight, I’d think you’d have done this before. How many other unwitting females have you lured into your den of iniquity?”

“Hundreds, but they never leave to tell the world of my sinister ways… I have them locked in a secret room in the basement. Actually, you’re going to be the first person to use this, er, chair in the way we have in mind. I did a little chiropractic work to get me through school. This was my ‘work bench.'”

“I bet you did some pretty good ‘work’ on it,” I said teasingly.

“I plead the fifth! But allow me to help you…” He held out his hand.

My robe slipped to the floor and I let him help me onto his ‘work bench.’ It was perfect for our kinky games, how perfect I wouldn’t know until much later that evening. It looked like a weight-lifting bench, but much more adjustable. Trevor had raised the back so that I could recline, but still sit and enjoy the show. He gently wrapped the scarfs around my wrists, watching my face the whole time. If I was going to back out, I would have to do it now.

I elected to go for it, the shameless bitch that I am. He drew my hands up behind my head and secured them to an extension which protruded from the top of the bench. Then he tied each of my ankles in turn to the bottom of the bench using another set of scarfs. He left my knees bent, the rascal. I knew I was in for a ride.

Once I was securred, Trevor did a strip tease in front of me until I was wiggling like a schoolgirl. You have no idea how much you want someone until you can’t get to them. He knew this, and played it to the hilt. When he removed a large jar of honey from the cupboard, I caught my breath.

“Trev! I suppose you’re going to tell me that all that is for cooking!”

“Of course,” he said innocently. “That and enticing little girls.”

“I’ll bet!”

“It worked on you,” he scoffed moving to my side.

“Yeah, but I’m a sucker for a good time… Oh!” A stream of honey landed right on my left nipple. Trevor had the jar tilted over me and was allowing only the tiniest flow of honey to drip onto my chest. Slowly, very slowly, he was covering my breasts.

“Cold,” he asked.

“No… just room temp… it… tickles!” It more than tickled… much more!

In just a few minutes he had covered most of my upper torso, occasionally letting the stream hit my face. I held out my tongue and he purposely missed it as much as possible. When I was sticky enough, he tipped the jar a bit more and a wave of viscious goo plopped silently onto my stomach and filled my belly button. I gasped. I also realized that the table was inclined just enough so that the blob of honey on my belly was slowly inching towards my apex. In the mean time, Trevor started covering my arms and legs the same way he had my chest.

I can’t begin to explain how excited this was all making me. Only self control kept me from launching into orgasm as soon as he first coated my nipple. By now I was wreathing and twisting in pleasurable agony. Every drop of honey on my body was slowly sliding over my curves… and leaving a trail of tingles as it went. I sucked in my breath when the first honey hit my Mons. It slowed even more as it worked down through my tight brunette curls, until it was dripping down over my labia.

“Oh god, Trevor…. I don’t know how much longer I can take this!”

“Patience love… The best is still to come.”

With that, he leaned down over me and covered my left nipple with his mouth. I almost passed out. The sensations were completely erotic and overpowering. His tongue was sliding over my chest to my other nipple.

“Ughmmm…” I groaned in wonderful agony.

His mouth wasn’t the only thing carressing me now. His hands stroked up and down the insides of my thighs, but always stopped short of my most sensative area. By now his lips were playing at the undersides of my breasts and working down to the pool at my belly. I was quivering by the time he first kissed my soft curls.

“Ughnnn! Please… Trevor!”

“You are a hungry little minx aern’t you…”

“YES!”

“As you wish…”

I swear I had my first orgasm as his tongue slipped down over my flower, but I had hardly stopped spasming when I felt his tongue lapping up the sweetness as it dripped over my very jewel. My mind swirled and my hips rocked to the incredible building passion as his tongue penetrated me and pushed the nectar right up into my body. Again my mind soared into bliss and I strained at my bonds. I wanted to hold his mouth to me, wrap my thighs around his body and pull him further into me. But the wonderfull ecstasy went on and on. Trevor played me, working me to an almost continual orgasm.

“Trrrevvvvorrrrrr…. I stammered, lost in ecstasy. The feelings were so intense that it took me almost a full minute to realize that he had stopped. When I did come back to reality and opened my eyes, he was standing over me with a big grin.

“Welcome back,” he said, his face and torso glistening with honey.

“Oh god… That was incredible, Trevor! Thank you!” I was still panting.

“You’re welcome, but I don’t think you’re quite done yet.”

“Huh? I’d say I was done about forty or fifty times…”

“Yes, but as long as I have an advantage over you, I plan to exploit it. Be glad you ate hearty!” He was moving to the end of the workbench again.

“You mean…”

Trevor cut my words short by placing his hands on my knees. Then, with great skill, he slipped his legs under mine so that he straddled the bench with my thighs spread to either side of his torso. With alarming slowness, he brought his body forward until it gradually came up against my apex. As he did so, he tilted his manhood right into my gates and gently impalled me.

“Ughnnnnnnnnnn!” I groaned, as he finally settled deep within my body. My heart rate shot up once again in anticipation of coming bliss. I was mentally ready for a wild bucking ride, but Trevor had other plans for me. Instead of pumping me like the stallion I knew he was, he simply reached up and grasped my hips, holding me firmly against him. In my current state of bondage, there was little I could do but twist my upper torso around.

“What are you doing?! Why… why don’t you…”

“Because I know what a minx you are, Sara. You see, I know what you want me to do, but I also know that deep down, you like games as much as I do. So… I’m going to let you squirm and twist your sweet body until you drive yourself wild. Oh, eventually you’ll reach your moment, but it will be long time coming. And, I think you will find it even more orgasmic than before.

Trevor knew what he was talking about. I’m a stubborn bitch, and did just like he said. At first I tried to be perfectly motionless, just to spite him. But like clockwork, my body cheated me and I started to twitch. By now, my tunnel was as hot as lightning and every tiny motion I made was amplified a thousand times as pure pleasure. Before long I was pulling at my wrists and ankles, my body slowly undulating in erotic passions. I can’t say how long I kept this up because it gradually grew more and more intense. All the while my lover showed his skill and remained completely motionless.

When I finally peaked, it was as if someone had turned on a switch in me. My orgasm started and went on and on and on. I was gasping and crying out Trevor’s name loud enough to be heard back in town. After what seemed like an hour of continual bliss, my body shook in spasm and I passed out.

“Ummmm…” As the fog of sleep slowly cleared from my mind, it was replaced with a fog of pleasure. It took me a few moments to realize that someone was expertly lapping at my apex. It was over in only seconds, but I can tell you that there’s no better way to be awakened.

When my body was calm once again, I opened my eyes and tried to figure out where I was. I could tell I was on my back in a bed. The ceiling was unfamiliar, (which doesn’t happen often) and there was a man looking at me with his chin resting on my Mons. My thighs were spread wide before him.

“Thank you sir,” I said remembering.