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Alyssa’s Needs
By
Olivia M. Ravensworth
VOLUME-ONE
Part-One
Chapter-One
Unsatisfied Needs
Brad and Alyssa had been married for about a year and a half when she told him, one evening after a quiet candlelit dinner at home, that she had needs which he could not satisfy.
“W-w-what do mean?” he asked, shocked.
Alyssa licked her lips consideringly. “I’ve come to realize,” she said, quietly but with deliberation, “that by yourself you can’t give me what I need sexually.”
He could only stare back at her in disbelief, his jaw hanging open. He tried to speak, but no words came. Almost of its own accord, his head began to shake back and forth in the negative, scarcely noticed.
“It’s taken me a long time to realize this, Brad,” she continued without rancour, “and—who knows?—maybe my needs have changed as I’ve gotten a little older and really come to know myself.” She gave a slight shrug with her expressive dark eyebrows. “But it’s clear to me now that regardless of how you try to satisfy me sexually, I’m going to need more than you can give.”
“B-b-but, honey!” he sputtered. “I-I-I—” Brad swallowed, then started again. “Baby, if you want more, then of course I’ll do anything you want, any time you want! Gosh,” he added incredulously, “I could make love to you two, maybe three times a day if you’d let me, Alyssa!”
“Not good enough,” she said flatly.
Her voice was like a granite block sliding immovably shut on the last passageway into some mysterious pyramid, and its utter finality made him blanch. “Look, if you need more than that,” he attempted, “well…” He bit his lip. “Why, baby, you know I’d do anything—anything! I’d eat you, rub you, dildo you—or whatever!—anytime you like.”
Alyssa blinked silently back at him, heartbreakingly lovely. He almost thought he saw one corner of those beautiful, suddenly cruel lips twitch in the ghost of a smirk—and then it was gone.
“In fact,” Brad whispered softly, trying to bring her back to him, “it’d just turn me on so much, too—to know you needed it that bad, and to know I could do everything I ever wanted…”
Suddenly his poor cock was rigid within his trousers beneath the table as he imagined being required—allowed!—to pleasure his sweet black-haired queen two, three, perhaps four times a day.
Oh, how reciprocally satisfying that would be for him, too—the feel of her supple flesh beneath his worshipful hands and mouth, the intimate warm smell of her excitation, the tangy taste of the over-lubricated nest of hairy pink between her splayed thighs. The girl was so responsive, so easily excitable. Sometimes it thrilled him to reach right into her moistening vulva and finger her relentlessly to orgasm, until finally the drowsy, grateful girl begged for the simple comfort of her wild-eyed husband’s penetration of a receptive female body that still glowed with pleasure. Sometimes, however, it pleased him instead just to open her up with his thumbs without a moment’s notice and nuzzle the blunt head of his cock at the very outside of her vagina, and though she might be excruciatingly tight at first, by the time he had pushed himself balls-deep he would find her shamelessly juiced up, all wet and ready for him. How flattering that always was to his male pride!
And yet later, even after he had fucked her to his satisfaction and his poor flesh was tired with over-exertion, still the smirking thing loved to accept his caresses. Naughtily flattered by his restless attentions, she would revel in his unquenchable desire as he whispered into her blood-warmed ear, nibbled teasingly along her pale neck and shoulder and throat, scratched teasingly at dark crinkled nipples that would not yet go flat. How pleasant it was just to play with that kittenish young body, to make her need him still more.
Indeed, many were the times that, while the shrunken little organ jiggling beneath his belly ached with fatigue, he had reached smilingly into the bedside drawer to pull out an absolutely enormous dildo, thick and swelling and nubby. Then, as Alyssa’s dark eyes lit up gratefully in her silent expectation, he would slither down between those sweaty thighs and open her up again, hairy and pink and spongy, slippery and salty-sweet. He might gaze down longingly for a timeless moment into that paradise of used flesh, his nostrils filled with the heavenly, intimate aroma of the very essence of her womanhood. Finally, smiling serenely in his selfless adoration, he would plunge the great rubbery intruder deep into the gasping girl to take her breath away, and to master her bubbling, sperm-filled depths once more…
Yes, he would do it all, gladly—any way that she liked, any time that she liked, just as much as she liked.
How he would thrill to the sight of her dear face contorting with orgasm after orgasm which he willingly granted her… “It would excite me so much to be able to please you like that,” he repeated softly. “So much…”
This time Alyssa did smile—a slow-growing curl of her lips that seemed to reveal a glimpse into strange, dark depths within her such as he had never even imagined before. “Oh, I’ll bet it would,” she said at last, crookedly. “And yet the point is not exciting your little appetites but fulfilling mine…”
Brad blinked back at her in confusion. “Alyssa, baby,” he attempted, “I worship you—”
“Well, that’s a start,” she said with a trace of slightly ironic satisfaction.
“I-I-I—” He gulped. “I would do anything for you!”
This time her fathomless dark eyes stared so intently into him that he suddenly quailed before her unreadable mood. “Anything…?” she wondered softly, arching one smoky eyebrow.
Brad swallowed, suddenly uncertain. Her tone was so enigmatic, like nothing he had ever heard from her before, and her eyes gleamed liquid and somehow secretly expectant. “W-w-well,” he stuttered, “I mean…”
“Because if you’re truly going to promise anything,” she interrupted him calmly, “you should think very carefully about exactly what that means.” Her dark gaze held him transfixed and somehow vulnerable. “Very carefully.”
Brad licked his lips. Just an hour ago he would have promised anything without hesitation, and yet now—now her tone made him hesitate, despite his most loving, most selfless intentions. “W-well…”
“And you should understand,” Alyssa amplified levelly, “that the desires I now have will take more than just one man to satisfy.”
For a moment Brad was not sure he had heard correctly. He blinked. And then suddenly he realized that she truly had said it… All the blood drained from Brad’s face. He felt stricken, and his sudden, pounding, hopeful erection deflated with a humiliating rapidity. “You—you want a divorce?” he choked out.
This time she was the one to shake her head, with great calm. “No, sweetie,” she assured him solemnly. She reached across the table to take his trembling hand in both of her long, smooth, cool ones. For a moment her face seemed to soften slightly. “I love you, Brad, I really do. I just need…well, more.”
“What do you mean?” he husked out. His heart stuttered within his cold chest.
“I want to feel…wild and uninhibited,” she replied with a calm, unshakable purpose, “and to be completely in charge of my own sexuality. Completely! I want—” Her eyes flashed suddenly in the candlelight. “I don’t know, I want everything.”
“Don’t I give you everything you want?” he asked in a small voice, his poor little dick shrivelled pathetically. “Don’t I—”
“You’ve always given everything you can,” Alyssa interrupted almost regretfully, “but I’ve come to realize that I want more than any one man can give me.” She took a deep breath. “I want to feel like a whore sometimes, Brad, to really turn heads and make men who don’t even know me feel crazy with desire. I just—I just want it all!”
Brad stared back at her, wide-eyed. All at once it was as if pieces of a puzzle clicked together in his mind, revealing a pattern that he had only cloyingly sensed. He should have seen this coming, he told himself silently. Why, perhaps even from the very beginning he should have known she was capable of—of this.
Sexually, after all, Alyssa had always been delightfully full of surprises. The slinky brunette was inventive and uninhibited, seductively alluring—always wildly satisfying. Though never vain or insecure, she obviously had long been quite aware of exactly how pretty she was, and way back when they had first been dating she had learned the extent to which a little pursing of the lips, a half-lidded expression, or a flirty pose could make Brad respond. She had never before taken advantage of him in any pernicious way—at least that he was aware of, he amended grimly now—and yet he knew all too well how flattered and aroused she herself grew whenever she saw his eyes light up at one of her little games. Yes, she had always enjoyed making him shiver and beg.
The sable-tressed girl was tall and pale and slender, with beautifully shaped hands and feet, elegant calves and thighs. Even her forearms were attractive, Brad had told her—the very shape of them, and the downy black hairs which graced her creamy soft skin. And, of course, well…to someone of Brad’s temperament, those fine dark strands could not help but evoke in his imaginative mind the luxuriant curls brooding odorous and moist and warm in the secret garden between the tops of her sleek thighs. Mm, yes—even watching the scissoring slide of her trim ankles as she walked or the play of her shapely arm and supple, somehow expressively feminine wrist was enough to set him rigid with desire. And those seemingly innocent hands? Why, how beautiful it was to imagine one of those cool white fists wrapped playful and shameless and snug upon the engorged red pillar of the helpless erection she inspired.
And her hips, though not by any means wide, still were long and curvy, very feminine. When she knew Brad was watching, it pleased her sometimes to accentuate them by posing as if by happenstance with one trim calf ahead of the other.
And more than once, of course, she had chanced to drop some object so that, bending at her supple waist, the squeezable round cheeks of her shapely bottom stuck out invitingly before him. Oh, how the supple temptation called to his eyes, his hands, his body!
Alyssa’s bust, moreover, was bouncy and petite and yet just ever so slightly on the full side, especially considering the flatness of her little belly—what a joy it was for him to leer at the beautiful things, to fondle and squeeze them possessively, to suck at their rigid dark tips like a fiend, even to lube them up and make wild, almost fetishistic love to her silken cleavage! Yes, she often liked to show off those jiggling mounds for Brad, whether in some top scooped to reveal the creamy rounded upper slopes of her breasts or merely with a short, clingy tee-shirt that covered them and yet displayed every smooth curve of her solid swells. The knowledge of her husband’s reverent gaze always made her easily excitable nipples stand up crinkled and thick and dark, achingly obvious beneath the thin cotton. And if she happened to take a deep breath or to stretch, pulling her shoulders back to push those suckable nubbins out even more boldly—especially when the couple was out somewhere in public and the poor boy couldn’t just begin molesting the naughty things as he so craved—she smiled secretly to see the sweat begin to bead upon his brow, and his fingers grow twitchy and restless.
Even her hair was striking—heavy and dark, lustrous sable waves that swung and bounced about a cool ivory neck that he so loved to kiss and nuzzle. She liked to let her tresses blow in the wind, or to allow a long raven swath to fall crookedly over her eye now and then. She knew exactly how to incline her chin just so and half-turn her head to look back sideways at Brad over her pale shoulder in a way that always made his pulse pound heavily within him. Her eyes were dark and sultry, long-lashed and accentuated by sly, expressive eyebrows. Her red lips, she had learned, could be the most wickedly smirking things imaginable.
In short, with her sultry cream-colored face, her slinky young figure, and her sly predilections, she could be an unendurable cock-tease when she felt like making a man suffer. Sometimes—well, many times, Brad amended silently—it seemed that perhaps the favorite path to her own excitation was to tease him and tantalize him first, to seduce him and enslave him, to make him crave her utterly. Yes, whenever Alyssa wanted, the smirking girl knew just how to make him helpless and needy in his desperate desire.
Why, once on one of their very first dates, the flirty thing had teased and inflamed the boy so mercilessly throughout the evening that his erection was a constant ache within his suddenly too-tight jeans.
After dinner at a cosy restaurant, he drove her out into the country at her coy instigation, and he parked the car along some deserted dirt road in the soft moonlight beside a cattail-fringed pond. And in the peaceful quiet of nature punctuated only by the mating calls of crickets and frogs, she had kissed and necked with him and made him crazy with desire.
He begged her to go further, but though his hands roamed her clothed body hungrily, it had pleased her mood instead to refuse, and to make him suffer exquisitely. The most she would do was to draw back solemnly, lift her shirt in regal silence, and gravely show him her beautiful little titties gleaming bare and pale and so-obviously stiff-nippled in the moonlight. Oh, how his breath had caught in his throat!
He started to raise his trembling hands to those ivory globes, but she merely waggled one finger at him in smirking denial. “They’re so beautiful,” he breathed reverently. Those high young breasts had felt so good through her blouse, and the thought of wrapping his hands and his mouth around the bare things now was incredibly arousing. “Please—please let me touch ’em again.”
“Oh, you’re a beast,” she chided him playfully. “A beast like you won’t touch my little titties again.”
“If you let me,” he promised, “you won’t be sorry.” Her dark eyes seemed to tease him further, so he licked his lips and panted out, “Your nipples look so yummy! Please, Alyssa, just let me grab ’em and touch ’em—”
“You’re terrible!” she gasped in feigned shock. She covered her bosom quickly with coy hands, a movement that stimulated fresh desires far more than they dissuaded, and as she watched his reaction, her eyes were heavy-lidded and knowing.
Back and forth they went in her teasing little game. He begged her to let him to play with the upstanding handfuls, to squeeze them and suck on them, to tug on those sensitive nubbins of crinkled pink-brown erectile tissue and make her squeal, but smirking primly, the terrible temptress would not even allow his lightest touch on the glorious things. Brad’s poor erection grew ever more agitated in its frustration.
“If you’re that horny,” the wicked raven-haired angel said at last, inclining her head so that she could look up at him from beneath her lashes, sultry and provocative, “why don’t you show me…?”
“Wh-what do mean?” he had asked breathlessly.
“Show me,” said the bare-breasted girl again, surprising him and exciting him still further by reaching down to open his jeans. “Show me how excited you are.”
Calmly her red-nailed hands unbuttoned and unzipped him, freeing a thick purpled erection that thrust straight up, throbbing untouched in its agony.
Oh, how kinkily good it was to be exposed before her! His balls felt full to bursting, and the tiny slit at the tip of his desperate glans already shone with a clear drizzle of anticipatory seminal fluid. Surely now, he thought, she would take pity upon him…
Brad’s eyes darted to hers, but she merely pursed her sly lips. “Is that supposed to be for me?” she wondered quietly.
“Uh huh,” he breathed, watching those dark pupils dilate ever wider at the sight of the poor urgent manhood which had plumped up all fat and congested at the very thought of her. Licking his lips, he watched her appraisingly.
“Why, you must think I’m an awfully dirty girl,” came her soft, teasing voice. She reached over and tugged at the lever that dropped his bucket seat back, almost flat, so that now as he lay there she towered serenely over him. She blinked down coquettishly as she calmly opened his shirt to bare his fluttering male chest. “I mean, you don’t think I’m gonna put that naughty red thing inside of me, do you?”
“M-maybe you could—”
“Nope,” she said evenly, cutting off any and every possible suggestion, “not me.” She gave a mock-shudder. “Ooh, not in my pretty little pussy, or in my dainty little mouth either!”
“But—”
“Uh uh,” she said reproachfully. “You’d probably want to push that great big red thing around inside of me, and just use my lovely white body, all to gratify yourself. Why, I’ll bet you’d simply do it, and do it, and do it, until you just squirted off and made a big mess all over the inside of me! Wouldn’t you?”
Brad licked his lips. “M-maybe…” he said, imagining it. Oh, God, to grab that beautiful body of hers and just mount her! To grapple with that slender white flesh, to penetrate her to the very core and make her shudder and gasp as he filled himself with his raging red erection, and every stringy gout of his overflowing lusts…
“Oh, Brad, you’re terrible!” And yet her dark eyes twinkled as she teased and thrilled him.
He held his breath as the slender white hands that had slid seductively down to the shapely swell of her hips now came slowly back up her bared sides, to nestle alongside her upstanding bosom. Teasingly her fingers crept along those springy curves toward the dark nubbins of flesh that tipped each breast. Eyes bright, he watched those fingertips scratch gently along the very outsides of the crinkled areolas.
Brad licked his lips, his gaze on those seductive, red-nailed fingers. “B-but what about…?”
“My hands…?” she wondered smugly, watching the direction of his eyes.
“Y-yeah!” he breathed eagerly.
“Why, you naughty boy,” she chided him, giving her nipples a slow, purposeful stretch before his wondering eyes, “these hands are for me, not you.”
Unblinkingly he watched those slender fingers pinch at a pair of thick dark puckers, pulling the sensitive things farther, and farther… Oh, how beautiful it was!
“Besides,” she said primly, “wouldn’t it be naughty and messy? Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that all over me. Ick!”
“Alyssa…” he breathed, gazing up helplessly into her glowing visage.
“Are you turned on?” she wondered, teasing and caressing her sensitive flesh with shapely, tapering fingertips. “Bad?”
“Yeah…” he breathed, his voice ragged as she touched herself so softly.
“Them show me…” whispered Alyssa excitedly. Smirking, she started to pinch and squeeze at her nipples in earnest, making her eyelids flutter.
Oh, how Brad desired her! And yet, he realized, though his body longed for the feel of her smooth skin all over him, at least for now it was her pleasure instead to make him suffer. He was not allowed to touch her, and though she had bared him to her enigmatic gaze, his sweet seductress did not deign to touch his hungry flesh. Nervously he glanced down his belly toward the erection that climbed straight up, pounding untouched in its utter male enormity, already oozing with its helpless desires. Despite himself, the hands sweating at his sides twitched in uneasy sympathy.
“Come on, Brad,” she said with sly insinuation, “you’re not really gonna wait till you get home, are you?” With queenly grace, she rolled her own lengthened nipples slowly between her thumbs and fingertips.
“W-what do you mean…?” the boy asked her unwillingly. Oh, for if after this incredible teasing game she still she would not satisfy him and he had to go back home in this state—why, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from beating off almost immediately! And yet she could not really mean that…could she?
“Go ahead,” she urged him softly. She flicked her lashes swiftly at the hard-on which her sweet provocations had erected. “Show me how much I turn you on. Show me what I make you need to do to yourself.”
Brad licked his lips. The notion embarrassed him, and for a moment his penis softened slightly in his discomfort. No girl had ever seen him do that—it was just too private. And yet…well, how desperately he needed his release!
He hesitated, teetering between his mortifying embarrassment and his almost unendurable arousal. It seemed impossible to think of playing with himself before this girl, of doing the secret, shameful things which surely everyone did but which he had never shown another. And yet—and yet how the blood raged in his engorged phallus!
Brad looked up into the eyes that held him exposed and helpless and yet also painfully excited. “Sh-should I…?” he asked at last, shyly.
Alyssa smiled regally down at him, caressing her pale, lovely bosom with teasing, unashamed hands. “Yes!” she whispered.
Swallowing, then, Brad reached embarrassedly down and began to masturbate before her…
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