Remote Control
Little Shop of Shiva
Another long day at the shop had slipped away. I unlocked the apartment and threw my jacket on the recliner as I reached for the remote. After several attempts the afternoon news filled the screen, but the remote failed to respond after numerous attempts to change channels. Too many abrupt encounters with the hardwood floor had finally taken their toll. Without pausing to grab my customary after work brew, I went out the door committed to a quick trip to “Wally World” for a generic replacement. The cross town commute in rush hour traffic promised to raise my already frazzled stress levels, but a night without the convenience of a remote was even less appealing. As I started to unlock the car, I glanced over at the seldom visited strip mall across the street and spotted a small storefront with the words Ravi’s Electronics hand painted on the window. Surely they would have a small selection of remotes. I relocked the door and walked over, dodging stressed motorists as they sped home to their own TVs.
As I entered the small store, I was almost overwhelmed by the odor of incense and haunting sounds of sitar music. The walls were covered with tapestries, most of a dude sitting on an ornate cushion with a bunch of arms coming out of his torso and a third eye in his forehead. The proprietor sat behind a cluttered workbench working on an old VCR with bifocals thicker than Coke bottles. Against the back wall, several different remotes were hanging unceremoniously, so I grabbed the one with the least buttons and waved it at the old man.
“Nine fifty,” he offered with an almost indecipherable accent.
I pulled out a ten and thanked him as I strolled out the door, eager for a breath of fresh air. After playing the real life version of “Frogger” to cross the highway, I was soon back in my apartment, pausing to grab a brew before dropping onto the over-aged and overstuffed couch and ripping the cursed thick plastic off of my new possession. The instructions were printed on material akin to rice paper and damn near required a microscope to read. After a few trial and error attempts at programming, the TV flashed on and I was soon enjoying the last half of an original episode of Star Trek. The remote had a row of three buttons along the bottom that I didn’t see on the instructions, but the red middle button had a return arrow inscribed so I figured they were designed for the cable box and thought nothing more of them until later that night during a commercial for Domino’s.
Comparing a Domino’s pizza to a greased soaked cardboard crust is no great stretch of the imagination, so when the commercial began I inadvertently pushed the blue button on the bottom of the control (That was the same location as the channel change button on the old control). In a flash, I landed hard on my butt on a carpeted floor, the remote in one hand and my beer in the other. I was butt naked. The room was dimly lit by a candle, but it was a bedroom – definitely feminine with pink curtains and flowery patterns on most everything. There was dead silence for several moments, and I held my breath while getting my bearings.
Brothel babe
A deep moan came from atop the bed, and the mattress began to move sporadically. I ventured on my knees to peer over the edge and encountered a delicate hand rubbing the living piss out of a neatly trimmed pussy. My heart jumped into my throat as I watched the heightening sexual arousal of this delightful female form in the throes of self pleasuring. Her large breasts had rolled to the sides of her heaving chest; rippling symmetrically as her one hand pinched one of the large erect nipples and her other continued to frantically rub the wet pink center of her womanhood. I got painfully hard instantly, savoring her sexual scent wafting through the room amidst her soft lustful whimpers. The hand stroking her vulva became a blur as she pulled her knees up and arched her back with the impending orgasm. With short shallow gasps she reached her climax, the bed shaking violently as her passion dripped onto the pink comforter.
My painful erection took control, and carefully setting the remote and brew on the nightstand, I gently climbed aboard. I positioned myself between her still trembling legs lining – up my manhood with her cum drenched hand, then quickly moved her hand aside and took the plunge. Already well lubricated, I slid in completely to the hilt as her eyes shot open in surprise. A few moments passed before her eyes dreamily closed and she rocked her hips gently to coincide with my thrusts. She didn’t possess the tightest pussy I’ve ever invaded, but her soft mewling gasps, her wildly gyrating breasts, and the deep red flush that crept up her neck and down her chest suggested it would be one of the most enjoyable couplings to date. As her hips urged me on, my mouth became parched, and my back began to ache from an old work injury, but I continued to quicken my onslaught on the delicious puffy pussy. Her back slowly arched and her breaths came in short pants as my cock began swimming in the effluence her pussy generated. With a savage thrust of her hips her face grimaced in orgasmic ecstasy, clamping my cock tightly. She uttered a guttural groan as she threw her arms around me, riding her orgasmic waves as I felt my air being forced from my lungs. Stars began to dance on my vision when she finally released me and eased back down onto the mattress.
With my manhood still in control, I gradual renewed my onslaught. She moaned, a long, drawn out sound that was tersely cut short with my second thrust. Our hips immediately resumed their rhythm as we steadily climbed towards release. My mouth locked around the nearest engorged nipple as her hand snaked between us and found the wildly swinging sac housing my sperm producing glands. With my sensory input on overload, I pumped her wildly until, with a final thrust that matched her desperate up thrust, I erupted three pent up months of seed into her pulsating cavern. Again she likened to squeeze the life from me as our bodies relished the total bliss of sexual unity. I collapsed onto her soft voluptuous frame as we both struggled to refill our lungs and calm our racing hearts. With my last reserves, I rolled us onto our sides, and kissed her full trembling lips.
“Who are you” she queried breathlessly as warning alarms jangled silently in my head. I’d seen too many movies to know the outcome to any given response could be catastrophic. Gently reaching over her, I grabbed my lukewarm brew and the control. I smiled as I pushed the red button – or at least I thought I’d pushed the red button. . .
Jurrasic encounters
I landed with a thud on some spiked ferns in the middle of a tropical jungle. The air was thick and humid yet invigorating. Slowly, I assumed a sitting position and rearranged my butt to keep from getting poked. This remote was great – a key to free sex without any of the normal games and greenbacks at the mere push of a button! I could hear the cheerful babble of a nearby stream, and slowly rose to make my way towards it. What remained of my beer bottle lay shattered on a boulder, but I figured I could live without it. The stream was merely a meter wide, and I could see small spiny fish frolicking in the small eddies formed by the tumbling waters. Gently placing the remote on a decaying stump, I waded into the cool brisk water as the sounds of the forest soothed my senses. After a refreshing break, I stumbled onto a rich grassy slope and bathed in the sun while studying the remote more carefully. There were no manufacturer trademarks to be found, and the button I figured I had pressed was blue. On the other side of the red return button, there was a green button but I was somewhat hesitant to try that one. Instead, I would push the red button, and hopefully return home.
Just as I made my decision, and ungodly earth shaking roar erupted behind me, and I scrambled to my feet immediately. Slowly turning towards the sound source, I came face to gut with God-funking-zilla! He was a prime functioning model of T-Rex, or something from the same family with lizard skin, drooling choms, and eyes that perceived me as an exotic appetizer. Fight or flight kicked in – no one truly understands the flight response until they’re tearing through the forest in a zigzag pattern to avoid becoming a dino-delicacy. My life was flashing before my eyes so fast I was getting vertigo. Just up ahead, some large boulders rested and beyond that, there was the rise onto a smoking volcano. I throttled up and headed to the hill, my lungs and feet on fire, as each monster footfall behind me created mini-quakes.
Just as my strength began to wane, I spotted a small crevasse barely large enough to accommodate me. I dove through the thick foliage and into the darkness in a full nelson that would have silenced the critics at the Olympic Gymnastics competition. Another quick somersault and I bounced against the back wall of my new found refuge. There were three furry beasties staring at me with eyes as big as saucers. They were definitely females; two had what could best be described as small conical breasts, and the third had the deflated hangers of a bitch dog. The cleft between their legs was barely distinguishable unlike the lustful gaze in their eyes as they focused on my torso. I quickly fumbled with the buttons on the remote as they leaped on my body, their ruddy nails tearing at my soft skin.
Suddenly an unearthly roar followed by a loud thunk and an inhuman scream echoed from the entrance of the cave. The four of us froze and turned to view the spitting image of Captain Caveman. This dude was ugly with an obvious lack of personal hygiene skills. How he took down a creature easily twenty times his size with the club he was brandishing was beyond me. Further, how he could ever hope to knock up one of his female counterparts with the cock the size of a sun dried earthworm placed serious doubt on my concept of evolution. Observations aside, it was quite apparent that competition was not his forte and he charged with eyes blazing while I cringed with the flight option now unavailable. He raised his club while in full stride, and I instantly realized his vulnerability. My fist shot strait towards his groin and he, like most men toppled into a quivering hairy mound of jelly. Crises averted.
Not so! One of the conical twins took me down with a quick chop to the back of my knees allowing the other to swiftly mount my torso and commence her frenzied rutting. Although her fur was fine, when driven with sixty kilos of sex starved flesh, it instantly became steel wool. Only occasionally did my genitals contact the soft wet cleft hidden within. Just as I was about to bid farewell to my most cherished extremity, the head of my cock lodged into her opening. With both voiced a collective gasp. Strong muscular contractions pulled me deeper into her depths creating a vacuum that rapidly coaxed me to fullness. She pushed down forcefully and I forced into the tightest, silkiest depths imaginable. With a second thrust, my glans was embedded in her cervix. The unmistakable grimace spoke of her agony even though my shaft was barely halfway engulfed. She paused as the hag with dangling tits chirped a string of single syllable commands and her vagina gradually accommodated my girth. With a look of resolve, she slowly raised her hips and began the jumping up and down on my painfully engorged organ. Mercifully, she quickly sped up her strokes until, with a high pitched scream, her vagina convulsed so tightly, my cock was physically forced out.
Seizing the opportunity, the other cone breasted critter forcefully shoved her to the side and mounted me. Once again, my glans penetrated her cervix, but she withdrew quickly, and, despite the obvious discomfort, she began to ride me fervently. The nipples on her chest became engorged and peeked out through the fine hair as her arousal became apparent. Despite my discomfort, I too became aroused, and was soon matching her forceful thrusts with my own. She cooed with each thrust and threw her head back as her hands found their way to her tiny nipples and pinched them forcefully. Quickly reaching her climax, she trembled violently and chirped an endless stream of shrill, single syllable expletives. Learning from past experience, I grabbed her hips forcefully, and lost myself in the delightful muscle contractions that forcefully caressed my cock and coaxed my essence to spew forth into the tiny womb. Apparently it was too much for her and she collapsed senselessly onto my chest with a grunt.
I heard a groan and a few syllables coming from the direction of Captain Caveman and knew it was time for my hasty exit. Reaching over to grasp the control, I gently fingered the buttons until I was sure I had the red middle button and pressed it firmly. . .
I was lying on my back, stark naked, draped over the couch and staring at the ceiling. The remote slipped from my hand and changed the channel on cable to a pizza commercial as it fell onto the cushion. I lay there for what seemed like hours – sore and numb. A quick glance at the wall clock revealed less than an hour had passed since I first pushed the blue button, but the bruised torso and bloodied cock confirmed that I had spent a small eternity in two separate alternate realities. Finally, the discomfort of my position forced me unsteadily to my feet. I slowly staggered to the fridge and pulled out a fresh brew. It went down smooth, as did I – slowly sinking to the cold tile as the room began spinning.
Sometime during the night, I apparently found my way to the couch, and woke early at the first hint of dawn with a hangover that set new personal standards. There was time to spare before I was due back in the shop so I staggered back into the kitchen and got some coffee started, my hanging balls sending jolts of agony with every step I took. The rejuvenating hot water from the shower slowly eased the discomfort, and soon I was on the road with a steaming cup of joe and an old pair of boxers cradling my “package.”Once on line, I called the cable folks and ordered a new remote to be dropped off at the apartment office that day. Running a quick inventory, I ordered the least pricey components and made a list for the boss to consider. Time passed quickly until about an hour before quitting time. I was barely able to hang on, the last of my energy fading rapidly as I picked up the remote from the rental office and staggered into my apartment. I threw a Swanson’s into the micro and grabbed a brew, but never finished either as exhaustion overwhelmed me. I spent another night sleeping on the couch.
A cloudy Friday morning arrived, with barely enough time for me to get prepped and head back to the shop. Workload was light, and I had plenty of opportunities to ponder my erotic experiences with the remote. On the way home I stopped at the electronics store, but the windows were all painted over with a hand painted “CLOZED” sign on the door. The mystery thickens. Back at my apartment, I thoroughly studied the remote, even opening the back cover and digging through the garbage for the mutilated package it came in– but there was nothing to identify the manufacturer. Frustrated, I popped a brew and turned on the tube. There were nothing but more reruns and boring, sensationalistic news reports. Normally about this time, I’d get decked out and head for the local “watering hole,”but tonight I didn’t feel any pressing need. Probably wouldn’t be missed anyways. I changed channels, propped my feet on the coffee table, and enjoyed my brew. An hour and beer later, as the oppressive blanket of boredom encroached; I got up, took a pee and grabbed the remote. Closing my eyes, I pressed the green button and . . .
Return of the Ananuki
I slowly opened my eyes. I was standing on a patch of grass surrounded by a multitude of small white igloo shaped structures. Beyond the small community, on a small knoll, rose a tall white structure with a series of tall spires that reached high into sky. Occasional bolts of static discharge sizzled from the tallest spire. People strolled past in off-white gender-less leotards that covered all their bodies except for their unremarkable faces. One stood directly in front of me, staring at my crotch. I quickly used my hands to cover up.
“Greetings,”It murmured in a demure feminine voice
“Hi,” I returned meekly, my embarrassment evident.
“Is it functional, she queried while staring at my package my hands suppoted.
“Uh, Last time I checked it was.”
“Can I see it? Curiosity and perhaps a little excitement were evident in her voice.
“Uh, well,” I stammered, “If I can see yours in a place more private.”
“That’s acceptable,” she quickly replied. There was a device like an oversized wristwatch on her arm that she pushed a couple of buttons and I was instantly encased with a full body leotard like everyone else was wearing. Yet no one else sported a genital “bulge” or camel toe; they all appeared sexless. She gently grasped my hand and led me into one of the nearby “igloos” with a sliding front door one would expect to find on one of Gene Roddenberry’s star-ships. Once inside, she pressed a button on her wrist and we were completely naked. I immediately noticed her breasts were barely nubs, and her hairless vulva was little more that a tiny opening. She immediately fell on her knees and her hands began their inexperienced exploration of my genitals. Soon I got hard, and she backed away in awe, amazed by the throbbing organ. With a grunt, she plunged her mouth on my erect pole, and bit down hard.
“What the hell,” I gasped as I pushed her away and my cock rapidly deflated.
“Is it not edible,” she asked, thoroughly confused.
“Uh, not literally. . .” I replied as I studied the red bite mark that encircled my cock. Oral sex had somehow turned a grizzly corner – small wonder everyone was sexless!
“I knew not- the Anuk provide our off spring.”
“The Anuk, offspring?”
“Our celestial brothers, the Anuk – know you not of the Anuk?”
“Look, I just got here, sweetheart,” I replied defiantly gently rubbing my cock.
“Our celestial brothers descended from heaven and provide all we could ever need,”she retorted defiantly.
“They’re concept of sexual gratification and taste in attire is definitely lacking,” I mumbled sarcastically.
The Anuk revealed sex is reason for all problems. They changed our DNA, we changed; we live happy now.”
“Is that why you bit my dick,” I gestured to my groin.
“I curious – heard digesting men make pleasure.”
“Someone’s seriously misinformed, my dear. Sex is normally gentle and pleasurable.”
“So is eating,” she retorted.
I smiled as I fingered the green button on the remote that had somehow remained in my hand throughout the entire encounter. Now wasn’t the time to enter into a fruitless demonstration of what is and what ain’t and what should be with a naïve cannibal. I pushed the green button. . .
Child of the Ananuki
I was in a lush, fertile valley with beautiful mountain peaks surrounding it. The air was fresh and clean and it felt pleasantly warm. A doe quietly munched on a tall clump of grass a few meters from where I stood. I could hear a beautiful feminine voice singing from within the tall pines where songbirds sang a myriad of whimsical tunes. The doe slowly strolled to me and rubbed its muzzle on my arm and I slowly stroked the short hair along its shoulder. It nuzzled me gently and slowly strolled on down the path. I quietly headed up the path towards the sweet voice that became louder with each step. I rounded a growth of dew coated ferns and there she was, kneeling next to a small tranquil pool of water, her long sensual fingers tracing small patterns on the water’s surface. A small fish nipped at her forefinger and she gently caressed its scaly body as it nudged her hand gently.
Damn near had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t inside of some fairy tale. When she turned and noticed me huddled behind a bush, she sensually rose on legs that never seemed to end and shyly strolled over to me. I rose to her and after placing the remote on a nearby boulder, took her tiny hands in my own. She was beyond beautiful, long silky blond hair that flowed to the small of her back, large wanton sky blue eyes that reflected everything a man could ever desire, long sensuous limbs that begged to be caressed, full firm breasts capped with delightful brown nipples, and a cute little bush below her well toned abs that begged to be touched. Strangely, she had no navel. She led me to a grass covered clearing by a babbling brook and gracefully lay down pulling me on to her.
Her full lips were sweeter than a fine wine that quickly parted as my lips melted with hers. My hands gently roamed down her delicate features and long sinewy neck as her breathing quickened and tiny goose bumps formed on the arms that tenderly embraced me. I spent a lifetime in her sensual lip lock, silently thanking the Creator for my now painfully throbbing equipment. The moment we broke from our kiss, I gently moved down the flawless skin of her neck to the firm full melons that crowned her heaving chest. My lips explored their graceful full contours and the sensitive erect nipples gently, savoring their pure natural flavor. Her smooth legs slowly wrapped around my torso and she arched her back in pure sexual abandon. Slowly my lips descended down her trembling torso to her tight nether lips. Her hands entwined in my hair as my tongue explored the delicious fluids abundant there. It took a little time to pry apart the tight outer lips with my tongue, but once penetrated it was drawn to the tiny nub throbbing with anticipation. Two swipes of my tongue and her hips violently bucked in an intensely brief orgasmic release. The contented sigh was delightful, but the surprised squeal as I kicked my tongue back in gear was what I wanted to hear. Circling the inflamed bud with my tongue, her respiration went off the charts, hips into “wild mustang” mode, and her hands assaulted my scalp in a precursor to male pattern baldness. Rapidly climbing to a higher peak of orgasmic ecstasy, I eased my finger through the inflamed folds into the slippery entrance of her vagina, confirming my earlier suspicions that she was a virgin. She shrieked and pumped her hips frantically, her tight grip on my now rapidly thinning hair the only bulwark to being thrown free.
Her beautiful return to stasis was my opportunity to reposition myself and prepare for her first ever intimate invasion. After several attempts to penetrate the flushed folds, she grasped the rock hard invader and positioned it herself at her entrance before wrapping her arms and legs around me in eager anticipation. Slowly, savoring the tight slick folds, I forced my way in, pausing as my glans pressed firmly against her hymen. Those large blue eyes still half closed with orgasmic relief shot open, and her embrace tightened as gentle vaginal strokes caressed my glans. I felt her relax slightly before I lunged deeper into her depths; my cock eventually stopping at her cervical entrance. Again her eyes shot wide open and a brief squeak escaped her lips as she passed into womanhood. Gently I kissed her as her body adapted. We held the kiss as her torso slowly came to life. Taking this is a signal to resume; I slowly withdrew a little and eased back in until her cervix was gently kissed by my glans. Gradually increasing rhythm, I soon was back to normal ramming speed as her eyes dreamily reopened and she caressed my back lovingly. As I reached my optimal pace, her hips matched mine eagerly and within just a few delicious thrusts, she crossed over her orgasmic plane, thrusting her hips high in the air. Her vaginal contractions were so tight the literally forced me out of her. Those beautiful blue eyes shot wide open and her hands dove between us, hastily replacing my frustrated pussy plug into the drenched silky depths.
I was in hyper drive by now, and barely noticed the interruption, as I continued my thrusts into the unbelievable tight orifice with wild abandon. Close to the edge, I closed my eyes and let nature take its course, thrusting violently as her hips rose to meet my mine. She hugged me tightly. With a few rabbit thrusts, the boiling surge raced up my urethra only to find the escape passage blocked. The beautiful blond goddess beneath me was in the throes of her own explosive orgasm, her vaginal muscles squeezing so tightly that, combined with the force of my attempted ejaculation, I feared the retrograde ejaculation would blow my balls off. Fortunately, her muscles momentarily relaxed, and my essence burst against her cervix, increasing her orgasmic contractions exponentially. I clung on for dear life, as I literally rode her through her explosive climax, my cock experiencing the most fulfilling massage of its life. We fought for our collective breath albeit her tight embrace restricted my full recovery until her arms fell to her side and I was able to roll off her onto my back, gasping. After a brief respite, she rolled her sweat covered quivering body next to mine, and threw her arm over my chest as her energy waned and she drifted off to a profound sleep. I lay there exhausted, marveling at the first and only virgin I would probably ever plunder lying next to me.
Once assured she was fully asleep, I gently eased out from under her arm, and staggered over to retrieve the remote. I would love to expand on my latest conquest with the beautiful sleeping form by the brook, but hunger was becoming an issue. Gathering what was left of my wits and driven by curiosity, I set out on the rustic trail in this beautiful new world.
As I wound my way through the beautiful forest in the warm midday heat, I encountered various forms of wildlife undisturbed by my unannounced appearance. They showed no fear, and probably had never seen a human predator before. Fairy tales can be real! After a good hour of wandering through wonderland, I came to a large clearing with a huge, perfectly formed tree standing in the middle. I stopped short and stared – this was getting surreal! A muffled noise behind me broke the mystery moment and I turned to see the blond goddess standing behind me with teary eyes. I smiled and she vaulted the few meters separating us to hug me forcefully. I locked lips with her and she likened to suck out my soul, breaking the kiss only when the last of our reserve air was depleted. I rubbed her tummy in the universal sign for hunger and she nodded curtly, and then dashed for the tree. I quickly followed and grabbed her arm as she reached up to pluck one of the abundant apple-shaped fruits on display. I’d read a story about a similar scenario once and peaked my senses in case a snake was coiled nearby. Although she obviously didn’t understand, she respected my wishes and darted back up to the trail head where smaller trees were adorned with similar fruit. She eagerly plucked several of them and ran back to me excitedly. I hugged her in appreciation, and sank my teeth into the sweetest fruit I ever tasted.
Grasping her free hand, we followed along the edge of the forest until we found where the trail resumed and plunged into the welcoming shade. The trail wound through grassy meadows, endless forests and past small streams with the clearest and tastiest water I have ever quenched my thirst with. As time passed, I nicknamed the place Eden and was really becoming attached to the thought of spending a lifetime here when my companion suddenly stopped short and bowed her head. I tugged at her hand but she wouldn’t budge. Fingering the remote in case a hasty retreat were required I moved ahead slowly at the urging of my curiosity. The trail opened into a wide valley sprinkled with the remnants of many small dome-like structures. In the center was a grassy knoll were the unmistakable remnants of a tall steeple lying broken on the ground.
I knew this place from before – it was the land of the dick biters, and I reasoned my shy little virgin had somehow escaped with her plumbing intact. A probable byproduct of the Anuk, she was a genetically modified hybrid baby maker. The community had been virtually reduced to rubble – maybe from a group of diskless rebels, or maybe even an extraterrestrial foe with shock and awe elements sufficient to amaze the Defense department. Warning bells clanged in my head and I turned to head back into the forest. My little virgin was history, and I quickly decided to follow suit. On reflection, it’s amazing how contagious panic can be. I pushed the green button firmly.
Wrath of Sol
I landed hard on a sand dune with the winds whipping like a hurricane spawning sand tornadoes and restricting visibility to near zero. It was like an oven and the sun, what I could see of it, was easily ten times larger than I remembered. The remote tumbled from my hand, and I immediately tried to retrieve it albeit the winds and blowing sand were like digging a hole in the ocean. With the sun burning my back into bacon, I dug desperately and was finally able to grab the device and pull it free just as a tall figure in a flowing white hooded robe stood in front of me, partially blocking the wind that was sucking my life away. It extended a dark skinned hand, and I eagerly grasped it while tightening my grasp on the control. Wordlessly, we trudged through the hot torturous sandstorm, my feet burning with every step until we reached a small cream colored structure partially buried in the blowing sand. The walls were smooth and tapered, and the entry was close to the sloping roof. After a short climb up a rustic wood ladder, I fell through the small opening and into a mountain of soft white pillows. My rescuer soon followed with a thud.
We both lie still for several minutes before she slowly rose and shed her wrap revealing beautiful dark ebony skin thinly disguised by a white fishnet gown that left nothing to the imagination. Her weather hardened face was in sharp contrast to the rest of her delicate feminine body. Youth and virility glowed from her.
“Got liquid,” she queried abruptly.
I shook my head no while still appraising her well defined muscle tone.
“Let me have your cum,” she demanded shamelessly.
“Give me yours, then,” I responded curtly.
“Dried up years ago, Honey; got some dried fruit in the other room though.”
I reclined into a more comfortable position and she crawled over to me on all fours like a jungle cat with cornered prey. In a flash her head was buried in my crotch, sucking like a Hoover on steroids. She gently fumbled with my gonads before a finger slowly invaded my ass hole. I mumbled a quick protest which she ignored and thrust her finger in deeper, exploring the dark depths until it settled on my prostrate. I had always assumed the asshole was made for gays or proctologists, yet her gentle invasion was somewhat pleasurable. She must have been an expert because within moments I could feel my essence flowing through my urethra and into my host’s dry mouth. She gulped it all down noisily. It happened so fast, I never got fully hard nor experienced orgasm.
“Thanks, I needed that,” she whispered with a smirk that made my blood run cold. I had just been milked and used; literally raped and dehumanized. Yet, I could understand in this oppressive heat the need to extract anything that could provide refreshment. Desperate times, desperate measures. I quickly pressed the green button. . .
Beyond infinity
I was free floating in darkness. The dim light of distant stars barely illuminated a few rocks seconds before the sped past but there were no other sensations – no sounds or smells – nothing. I figured earth’s expiration date had passed, and this was all that remained. It was a comfort to know we hadn’t destroyed ourselves after all, and maybe there were a few humans out beyond my vision clinging desperately to life on a brave new world. After carefully studying the remote, I pressed the red button. . .
The security of my cool dark living room enveloped me. It was just as I left it, the TV busily blabbing to no one and a pile of clothes next to the sofa. I rose unsteadily, and after a quick physical assessment confirming I was intact, I headed to the kitchen for a brew. Walking to the window, I opened the tattered curtain a cunt hair, and was reassured by the traffic whizzing past in front of the apartment. Taking a deep swig, I plopped on the couch and threw my feet up. There was far too much information to wrap my head around so I took a deep breath and drifted off and slowly drifted off into a troubled sleep.
My dreams of a myriad of distorted landscapes and beautiful women faded abruptly as the phone rang. It was still dark, and I had to fumble for the receiver even though it was just a few feet away.
“Get the coffee ready, I’m on my way.” The line went dead.
It took me a moment to realize it was Rick, my fishing buddy that had jointly purchased a 16-foot Bayliner with me last year. We both loved fishing the multitude of fresh water lakes located nearby, and the purchase of the vessel had been a lifelong dream for both of us. He kept the boat at his place as the apartments had no inside storage available, and his new off-road pick-up was just perfect to get us into the rustic boat launches. I sprang into action, threw on the coffee, grabbed my tackle from behind the BBQ in the storage shed on the patio, and grabbed my parka and gloves. Just as I finished pouring the coffee into the thermos, I heard him drive up and raced out the door, almost forgetting my keys. The warm cab, and tunes from the 60’s coming from the radio warmed the soul all the way up to the lake.
I’ve known Rick since the early days of secondary school; always positive and quick to laugh, we could talk about damn near anything without causing offense to one another. He’d hitched up with a beauty brunette with strong Latina heritage shortly after we bought the boat, and he truly loved both her and the sweet little daughter left over from her first marriage disaster. As the sky began to glow with a new dawn, we slipped the boat into the smooth-as-glass-waters of the lake and carefully guided her through the dead heads to a small semi-hidden cove that had been quite fruitful the last time we fished it several months back. It was cool and invigorating; flies buzzing across the smooth surface, and birds announcing the sunrise in melodic song. Just as the sun crested, Rick got the first hit with his new lure, and within seconds, my tried and true bundle of salmon eggs scored the second. It was hot and heavy until we limited out less than a half hour later and we set course back to the landing. With an ice chest full of fair sized trout, we were soon on the road home laughing and yapping like a pair of school girls in heat; the memories of the proceeding evening long since committed to memory.
When we arrived at his place, we off loaded our bounty amidst the excited squeals of his daughter and the approving nod of her Mom. We cleaned up the boat and then the fish, and sat back to watch Mom and daughter working in almost perfect harmony to batter fry and serve up a delicious meal. The rest of the fish were immediately frozen with the exception of a few held out for me to take home. At some point in the meal, Rick mentioned a duplex down on the river he would like to purchase but he lacked the funds for a down payment, and his wife was somewhat hesitant with renting the other half to make ends meet. I wanted to see it.
After the dishes were cleaned up, we locked up and headed several miles out of town to a small winding access road and the duplex in question. It was remote, but much larger than I thought it would be, sat on five untamed acres with all the amenities including cable! Great for kids, perfect for fishermen; I was sold. It would drain my financial reserves but offered a greater form of security. A frantic week was to follow, but by the following Saturday, we were moving the bulk of our worldly possessions and closing out the last of our in-town obligations. Within a month, we were fully settled in, raised a 3-car carport with the boat parked in the middle stall, and caught a fistful of bass whenever time allowed. The remote control, that had lay comfortably in my bottom desk drawer in a plastic bag with the batteries removed, was scarcely more than a distant memory.
One particularly cold evening, several months later, I was watching a rerun and sipping a brew when my thoughts drifted back to the remote control. My life was better than it had ever been; with a promotion on the horizon, at a great place to live, I felt I had it all (except for a woman as Rick kept insisting). Yet my gonads were dangerously overloaded, and the opportunity to explore new perspectives and new pussy could not be denied. Reinserting the batteries, I strolled to the middle of the room, set my lukewarm brew on the coffee table, and pressed the blue button. . .
Of Queens and Princesses
I was standing in a great hall with a polished marble floor and alabaster statues of women with different robes lining the stark white walls that tapered up to a brightly painted wooden ceiling. In front, a raised marble platform with three ornate wooden chairs and a wrought iron chandelier dangled above. Candles flickered from a myriad of wrought iron candelabras scattered around the hall and behind the chairs.
“Kneel, knave!”
The authoritative voice behind me left little room for discussion. I dropped to my knees and tucked my hands to cover my groin. I didn’t dare to look up although my curiosity pressed me to do so. An infinity passed with my knees protesting violently until a clear voice reverberated through the chamber.
“Why hast thou desecrated these holy chambers?”
Hmm, old English, I could deal with that. “I knew not of their holiness,” I retorted and immediately a burning sensation swept across my back followed by the crack of a whip. “Owww,” I blurted out.
“Silence . . . escort him to the dungeon and disembowel him.”
“Whoa,” I exclaimed abandoning my old English dialect. I raised my head and stared at my judges. They sat in the three chairs clad in bright white full length gowns with beautiful gold crowns and long flowing hair; one blond, one brunette and the third with fiery red. Another burning stripe burned across my back just below the first. The pain almost made me pass out. Apparently looking at royalty was frowned upon. I rose to my feet quickly and stomped over to the offending guard and snatched the whip from her hand.
“Stop that!” I was not into S & M, and I think she got the message as I grabbed the offending weapon and threatened to return the favor. Behind, I could hear another guard draw a weapon and I whipped around (literally) with my arm fully extended and connected with her sword arm, sending the weapon sliding blissfully across the floor. Both guards were bent over cradling there wounded arms, there leather bras hanging ungracefully from their heaving chests.
“Dost thou not knowest respect for the Royal Order. . .”
“C’mon man; I stood before you naked, defenseless and humble, and you return the favor with unwarranted bullying.” I was storming towards the platform now, emboldened and angry, as the redhead beat a hasty retreat out the backdoor. The two other two royalty stood stunned; frozen in fear. “Haven’t you ever heard about dignity and respect?” I reached the brunette, and threw a lip lock on her as her eyes shot open and her body tensed. Thirty seconds later, her eyes were drifting closed and she relaxed; her arms encircling my back with a gentle embrace.
“My queen,” the blond queried, her voice shaking noticeably, “This barbarian doth partake in indecent liberties . . . but she hastily waved off by the woman in my arms. I slowly broke the delicious kiss and nuzzled her neck. She gasped and I could feel her noble legs giving way, so I tightened my grip and eased her down onto the cold marble floor getting a brief glimpse of her furry bush. She was naked beneath her gown – feminist’s gone commando! I slid my hand up the hem of her gown just as the front entrance boomed open forcibly and the fiery redhead with a group of well armed female warriors thundered towards us. I hate interruptions.
I stood with my erection pointing straight up and put my hands on my hips. My brunette goddess quickly rose and gathering the last of her dignity, pointed to the door from whence they came. There were no words, just silent acknowledgement, and the warriors grudgingly left closing the door large wooden doors quietly behind the last warrior. The redhead princess repositioned the crown she had been carrying in her hand on those fiery red cascading curls and silently waited for words that never came.
My brunette goddess slid to her knees, then onto her back and raised her gown and spread her legs. A course in personal hygiene would be most appropriate, but in the interest foreign relations, I gently eased into her musky depths. She wasn’t a virgin, but she probably never knew a man either, as her face reacted dramatically to my rock hard flesh rather than device(s) she was accustomed. The blond princess moved closer, and I grasped her soft pale hands, placing one on the fully breast of the brunette and the other on the little nub peeking through the bush between those long succulent legs. The blond knew what to do, messaging the small nipples and slick clitoral nub with well practiced expertise. Perhaps it was the new sensations of a real man, or perhaps it was the erotic support of our blond companion, but soon the brunette arched her back and squealed, releasing a long spray of her orgasmic essence on my torso.
Easing out of the bushy brunette rain forest, I was eased onto my back by the blond and mounted with the gentle guidance of her hands. She was tighter and cleaner, and provided a most excellent ride; her head thrown back and a rosy blush spreading over her upper torso.
I gestured to the fiery red head, who shyly shed her gown, and with my guidance, straddled my head. I pulled her down to my mouth and devoured the ripe rosy crevasse with a passion fueled appetite. It would become one my shortest encounters ever. As I was just settling into a marvelous cock massage of the blond while savoring the abundant juices flowing from the fiery redhead bush, they both climaxed explosively and literally simultaneously. Between gasping for air and protecting my gonads from being rammed into the marble floor, I was being bathed in enough orgasmic ejaculate to float a battleship.
As they gyrated in their orgasmic nirvanas, I saw the brunette compose herself and slowly rise to observe her two frenzied companions. I waved to her with my free arm, and as she strolled over sensuously, I guided my hand to her muff in search of the little bud that still quivered. My fingers began probing her fur covered vulva gently. Once two fingers slid into her vagina, and my thumb circled the root of her throbbing clit, her hips bucked forward violently and she shook like a leaf in an autumn wind. Feminist girls are easy! Their frigid public composure was an effectively disguise for the truly hot tamales they were in private. I laughed to myself silently when I considered the duality the hid, and the frustration they must have felt. It would be interesting to see if they returned to their sterile sex lives, or accept their male counterparts as a more satisfying way to live and lead. I slowly rose from the bundle of trembling bodies and quickly searched for the remote. It rested securely next to a candelabrum, and I retrieved it quickly and after biding them a silent farewell, fingered the green button.
The Victorian Virgin
The lively chords of a harpsichord echoed across the richly decorated conservatory of what must be a huge mansion. I arrived just behind the young beauty bundled in a truckload of puffy undergarments encased in a frilly pastel blue lace dress as she caressed the keys lovingly. The music twinkled and danced across the walls like a firefly in the forest, and although I leaned more towards classic rock from the 60s, I could learn to love this stuff pretty easily. All too soon, she completed the composition, and thumbed through several more scores before finally settling on one she liked. Pausing to slurp some tea, I approached her and asked:
“Where did you learn to play so beautifully?”
Visibly shaken, she gingerly replaced her finely painted cup and slowly slid around on the bench. The cup and saucer tumbled from her fingers and her exposed skin turn such a brilliant vermillion red that could have frozen traffic in New York during rush hour.
“My Lord, your clothes. . .”
“I left them upstairs,” I replied assuming the bedrooms were located there.
“Only a scoundrel would be seen without attire.”
“Or a lover,” I countered with a hint of upcoming attractions .”
“I know thee not, my Lord, and even if so, a lady would not permit such a vulgar display!”
“You say that now, but you haven’t tasted the forbidden fruit, have you?”
Her eyes slowly traveled up and down my body slowly, pausing on my gaze and finally resting on my groin. A slight flush reappeared.
No, my Lord,” she murmured as her gaze lowered.
“Would you like too?’
Her eyes shot open and a look of defiance filled her fine facial features. “I’m saving myself for he whom I would spend my life with.”
“Life is short, my dear. High ideals are an invitation for disappointment.”
“I suppose, but. . .”
I cupped her face gently in my hands and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, convinced her resolve was crumbling. She rose unsteadily, and pried the shoes off her tiny feet.
“Time is short, the duchess will return within the hour, and if she were to find us together. . .”
“She won’t,” I said softly as I fumbled with the strings binding her bodice. She reached up, gently brushed my hand aside, and disrobed faster than I could ever have imagined. He clothes lay in a huge pile on the bench, and her petite assets on glorious display. This was going to be fun! I cupped her face delicately, and let her experience my full repertoire of kisses; pausing when her breaths became gasps. As my tongue explored the tiny buds of her breasts, she trembled violently and rubbed the peach fuzz surrounding her pussy forcefully on my leg. To our mutual surprise, she squealed, and reached her first orgasm. It wasn’t earth shaking, but it was an appropriate precursor to what was to come.
I resumed my oral administration on the young sweet delicacy, slowly descending past her mammary bumps and small rounded belly to the delicious peach fuzz slit already oozing her feminine invitation for penetration. I lifted her slight frame and lowered her gently onto my rock hard organ, finally striking home after several attempts. Her arms clamped me tightly and her mouth bit gently on my shoulder until I gently released her and she slid down the full length of my cock, her arms and legs locked painfully around me. Her teeth broke skin and she squealed into my shoulder at the same moment she became a woman. The indescribably tight pussy, despite the increased lubrication of virgin blood, was impossible to maneuver within. Her face and torso were again a bright red, and her large green eyes were clenched tight, but the tell tale shadow of a smile revealed her true feelings.
Ever so slowly, with minute spasms, her tight pussy and facial contortions relaxed releasing my penectomy anxiety. With short gentle jabs that terminated with our two pubic bones lightly kissing each other, I resumed my onslaught. She resumed her quick panting breaths, terminated with staccato high pitched moans. My hips let me know that my back wouldn’t last much longer without regrets in the morning, but the tightly squeezed little brain on the head of my cock kept the drive alive. Those swollen baby breasts were getting a chaffing, but their owner appeared not to notice, driven by the new found sensations radiating through her torso. Several deep rewarding thrusts later, her pussy plunged into hyper cock clench mode and her entire body trembled violently with her first full man made orgasm. I hung on as long as I could, but the stimulation was beyond bearable as my organ transformed into a bazooka with a multi-loader. I let go, seeing stars and pumping a life time worth of seed into the tiny cervix. We gasped and grunted together, trying to retain some semblance of dignity, as our bodies coped with neurological overload.
The delightful little virgin collapsed in my arms, and I fell back against the wall. She would forever reside among my top ten of conquests. I heard horse hooves, and knew my time was rapid drawing to a close. Carefully easing her limp form onto the deep red curtains of the settee, I retrieved my remote; and with a long last look at the lovely creature in repose with my seed dribbling from her tight violated vaginal lips, I pressed the red button and returned, sore but not shaken, to the comfort of my living room.
Sharing is Caring
I grabbed the remains of my brew and dropped heavily onto my sofa. As the fizz from my first long draught subsided, I pondered the remote that had provided a multitude of sexual fantasies far beyond my ability to ever imagine. Where did this remote come from; was it built on inspiration from a sexually oppressed scientist, was it randomly distributed by demented aliens, was it the product of an overworked Chinese dude who inadvertently cross wired a critical connection, or, more importantly, why was I seeking answers I really don’t want to know. Actually, I was more concerned about a potential expiration date.
About then, there was a brief knock from the side entrance Rick and I had hastily installed several weeks ago to connect the two units without a need to go outside. Rick swaggered in, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me lying sprawled across the couch with my clothes in a disheveled heap a few feet away.
“So, if your choice in apparel is an invitation, I’m already married.”
I chuckled. . . “You really think I’m that desperate,” I returned as I drained the last of my brew. I got up and grabbed a couple of fresh ones, handing him one as he dropped into the La-Z-Boy, before returning to the couch. I mulled disclosure for a few seconds, and throwing caution to the wind, I decided to let my best friend in on my secret. He was staring at me with curiosity written all over his face, anyways.
“Back in the old days when I lived in the apartment,” I began; “I came home one night and my remote stopped working, so I went across the street to a small electronics store and bought a generic universal remote.”
“OK,” he offered indifferently, “You have my attention.”
I handed him the remote and continued. “You see those three buttons on the bottom? The blue one takes you somewhere in the past, the green one into the future, and the red one, with the return icon scribed on it brings you back to when and where you were when you pushed one of the other two buttons.”
“OK . . . We really got to get you a woman, dude.”
“Go ahead and try it, Rick. Just be sure to hang on to it ‘cause you ain’t coming back until you push the red button. Go on, it won’t kill you!”
He looked at the control, and absently ran his fingers over the buttons. “Look dude, there’s no such . . .”
There was a blinding bolt of light accompanied by a sizzle and his beer dropped to the floor. I was able to salvage most of it, and his clothes absorbed the small amount he’d lost. I got up and slowly put my pants on just as there was another sizzle and Rick returned to his sitting position, naked and wild eyed. I handed him the remains of his still cold brew and sat back down after prying the remote from his hands.
Several long minutes passed until he muttered: “Damn.”
“Now you know why I’m not apt to change my personal life.”
“Yeah,” he said in a barely audible whisper. “Thanks.”
“Where did you go,” I asked, my curiosity peaked.
Rick let out a long sigh; “It was a cathouse – late 1800s, I’d guess, with petticoats and eagle clawed tubs, and nickelodeon music and the strongest booze ever conceived by man. The women were . . . hot – no, insatiable!” He paused and put on his serious face. “What if I knocked her up?”
“And what if I fucked my granny and she had a boy instead of my Mom? Let me go check on the flux capacitor . . .” I took another lingering sip of my brew.
Rick was silent for a moment and snickered, then nodded to himself with relief etched across his face. “You know, I came over to get a break from the old lady; she’s on the rag again.”
“Give her the remote,” I suggested.
Rick pondered the idea for a moment and shook his head no; “Don’t want to pay for someone else’s kid.”
“Then let’s go fishin’.”
“I’ll get the bait, you grab the beer,” he countered.
As we walked down the embankment towards the lazily flowing river, Rick seemed pensive, yet relieved. We loaded our hooks in silence, and cast upriver to let the bait flow with the current. Finally, he spoke up:
“They told me cowboys were lousy lovers.”
“You think riding a saddle for twelve to fourteen hours a day is good for the gonads? Geez Rick, they’re probably hanging out his navel. Truth be told – if we DNA tested 90-percent of the pioneer offspring west of the Mississippi we’d find they were fathered by traveling salesmen!”
“Or naked men with remotes,” he suggested with a chuckle.
We watched our lines drift slowly past, lost in our thoughts and secure in our bond that would surely endure the endless mysteries of time.