Amorous Goods: The Magic Pen

She was sitting at a window seat, leafing through a journal.

All of a sudden she felt her groin contract with the dreaded and now familiar clench of arousal. Leonard must be signing something at work.

She looked wildly about the coach. An older man, perhaps between forty and fifty, was eying her. Not without interest, but neither with any intent that disturbed.

Her crotch contracted again. She felt the unmistakable desire to have a penis in her hands, a hard insistent penis wanting release. To stroke it, feel its taut urgent skin, coax semen out of it.

She looked about the sparsely inhabited train-car, panic rising. No one else would do. The urge became irresistible.

She stood up and made her way to the fellow, whose surprise at her approach was obvious.

"I'm sorry. I have a favor to ask. Please don't ask me to explain it, I cannot. Cannot in decent fashion anyway."

He looked at her blankly.

He was on the short side, thinning hair, a bit of a paunch, but wearing respectable clothes. A bookkeeper perhaps, she thought, or a salesman in a department store.

"I'm Nikki," she said and immediately regretted revealing her name. Yet she desperately needed to gain his confidence.

"I am in a bit of a bind. Do you think ... could I ask for your help?"

She keenly wanted to reach over and feel his penis through his trousers, which were of good cloth, but didn't dare.

The man looked undone. Nikki knew she would need to reassure him.

"You're in no danger, I am not after money or anything but a short amount of your time." Her words rushed together.

"I'm sorry, can we get out at the next stop? Together?"

She felt her voice catch.

"I'm afraid this is intrusive, I have no right to ask this, but ... I need your help."

The man, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair, looked concerned, but more, Nikki noted to her relief, for her own well-being than his own. What fears could he have? That she would be luring him outside to swipe his wallet? Or perhaps she had accomplices?

She altered her tone and words.

"Where is your stop?"

"St. Clair West," he said, his first words. He seemed less alarmed the longer she sat next to him.

"Might I get out with you there? Spadina Park is there."

Please say yes, she pleaded internally.

"The park," he said, "yes, it's right there. Do you need to talk?" He seemed to fear an emotional outburst was coming.

"Thank you, thank you. Yes that is fine."

They off-boarded and crossed busy St. Clair, and Nikki looked around.

"Do you know of a quiet place, out of the way?" she asked, hoping not to sound too desperate or rushed. Her crotch had grown wet now, her desire increasing, becoming unbearable.

"There is a little nook around the back off the trail, a few trees. We can be private there."

He looked at her intently. "Something on your mind?"

Nikki moved her head up and down. "Yes, and a little more. My favor..." she paused.

"My favor of you, I hope, and think, will be okay with you."

He looked at her blankly.

"I cannot explain why these urges happen," she lied. "But I need ... I need to stroke your penis."

She couldn't stop her hands. They groped the man's crotch, soft and relaxed, but even a quick touch she hoped would affect a change. "No one to know."

She looked quickly for a ring on his left hand. To her dismay there was one, he was married. "No one to know but us," she repeated.

"Alright," he said. Nikki thought he looked relieved, although still puzzled. "It seems necessary for you..."

He paused.

Nikki nodded. "Imperative. Thank you. A thousand thanks."

They walked deliberately to the little nook of the park the man had mentioned, a grove of trees with some lower shrubbery. It was not so spacious or cozy to attract homeless campers, mostly just room to stand between a few trees.

Nikki reached for his crotch again. As she had hoped, he had stiffened a bit with the walk and her initial contact.

She carefully unzipped his fly and rummaged his penis out.

She salivated, it looked good, half erect. She began to stroke.

The man put a hand on her shoulder.

"I get this urge, this need," she said. "And your penis looks beautiful."

This was not untrue, as it lengthened, and the cock-head emerged from its circling foreskin. Nikki had never held an uncircumcised penis before, so different from Leonard's, short but fat, a nice width to it, felt good in her hands.

She rummaged under his balls, hairy, hanging and full.

It was barely five minutes. Nikki was loathe to admit it, but she enjoyed her touch on his erection. It had been many years since she had fondled a penis other than Leonard's, and while once upon a time she had been adept at handling a new date's erection, this was completely different.

As his penis grew ever harder, she suddenly wondered how to handle the semen.

Her handkerchief, the one in her purse, the nice sky-blue one Leonard had given her one Christmas. It was all she had. She fished it out and tucked it within easy reach.

She pulled on his erection, slid her hands along his shaft, circled his cock-head with her fingers, while the other hand squeezed and caressed his balls.

She felt the tell-tale stiffening of his legs, a perceptible build-up of tension, his hand gripping her shoulder more tightly, and a jet of sperm flew out of the top of his cock-head. The best she could, she directed the sperm outward and away from her hands, their clothing. The fellow's hips were thrusting, his ass contracting.

Three powerful spurts, two smaller ones, the first shooting sperm a few inches, and then diminishing oozings, as she milked the last bits out.

She retrieved her handkerchief, carefully cleaned him up, then her fingers.

She looked at him evenly.

"My thanks," she whispered. "You have been a godsend." She couldn't believe she used that expression.

He looked bewildered, but she recognized relief. The relaxation that came from divesting sperm, a climax.

"Do you mind leaving first?" she asked. "It is maybe best we are not seen together." She suddenly felt detached, then an urge to get home and take a shower.

"Again my thanks," she said.

He nodded, not quite with a smile, and turned away. She watched him walk back towards the street. She was shaking, her whole body, her legs wobbly. She knew more or less what Leonard would say we she saw him later at home, only the details of his thinking would be a surprise.

The pen would have to go.

Ten minutes later while walking unsteadily home, she had completed her plans. So many messes humans could get themselves into could also be gotten out of. This had to be one of them. It must be, she said to herself.

Leonard had difficulty accepting Nikki's diagnosis back home.

"Alright, you have been having these, ah, unusual sexual urges. They seem to strike you at unpredictable intervals, and you claim the pen is the cause?"

"Yes, I do."

"But I use the pen all day long, for all manner of things. It has been a superb gift, I think of you often when writing."

"Yes, I believe that. I also believe that is part of the trouble. And I believe that you use the pen more often than my, ah, urges. But let me ask you this -- how often do you sign your name?"

"That varies. Almost always on Fridays there are a number of documents before the weekend that require my signature. Some weeks at other times, maybe once or twice, maybe more often. Depends on contracts, deadlines, all manner of things."

"Think back to the first time you signed your name with the pen."

"Of course," Leonard smiled. "It was the day you brought the pen home and you had me test it out."

"And what were you thinking?"

"Of you. How grateful I was for your generosity of spirit, your love, your affection for me."

"Anything else? More specifically?"

Leonard shifted. "Well, of course I was looking forward to making love that night."

"And did we?"

"Most enthusiastically."

"Leonard, I felt my crotch grow wet the first time you signed your name, right here. At the time, I just attributed it to our love, the pleasure that came from making you an early birthday gift, just after our anniversary."

"What about the next time you signed. Must have been that Friday?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"What were your thoughts?"

"I do not recollect."

"Could you have been thinking of my chest, perhaps?" Nikki pressed.

"Possibly. No, probably."

Nikki exhaled. "That was the second moment it worked. My nipples grew suddenly, outrageously, erect that afternoon. I remember being startled on the ride home."

They sorted through the month's history, comparing memories, finding exact parallels. Nikki was convinced. Leonard remained skeptical, even after the story of their bondage night, and her extracurricular penis-fondling that afternoon, which horrified him.

"I was thinking of an erection this afternoon, but mine, and perhaps for tonight."

"But Nikki," he continued, "yes, point taken, correlations all over the place but not necessarily causation. The evidence, while strong, is still all circumstantial."

Nikki hated it when he used weaselly lawyer logic and terminology.

"I see you will only be satisfied with direct evidence." She looked hard at Leonard. "Very well."

"Len, come here a moment." She pulled out the menu, the memento of their anniversary dinner, and turned it over to the blank side.

"Leonard, sign this."

Leonard looked at her carefully, and pulled his pen from his shirt pocket.

As always, the signature came out smoothly, his pleasure obvious in the effortless way his name appeared on the paper.

"Len, what were you just thinking? While you were writing? Wait, don't tell me."

Nikki closed her eyes.

And then inhaled.

"Soixante-neuf?" she said, eyes opening, astonished.

Leonard's face turned red.

"Nikki, look, I'm sorry. That is just the image that came to my mind. I was trying hard not to think of anything at all, to tell the truth. But that's what flashed into my head..."

Nikki stared at him hard.

"Leonard, put the pen here. It will have to stay here until we figure out what to do."

"It's okay," as he reluctantly complied. She put her hand on his arm. "It's okay."

They stared at each other, and Nikki reached out to hug him.

"Not your fault. But now we have something to do. I am so aroused we cannot wait longer."

She took him by the hand, led him to the bedroom.

They had not done the "sixty-nine" in ages, although it had been one of their favorite early discoveries, just a few months after their first official coupling. Nikki loved the simultaneous sensations of Leonard's hard penis in her mouth at the same time that his tongue coaxed wonderful feelings out of her sex.

They tidied up separately in the bathroom, each occupied in their own thoughts. Leonard laid himself out on the bed, as they had discovered that this was one time that it was always best for Nikki to be on top.

She carefully crept on top of Leonard. He was barely hard, but Nikki's wetness was extreme.

This had been the other difference this month, it occurred to her. Her arousal had always arrived like a thunderbolt, immediate, with none of the slow ramp-up that normally took place.

She dallied with his penis in her mouth, sweet to feel it soft and baby-like, almost helpless, only to gradually stiffen and lengthen, until it was impossible to have him entirely within her mouth.

Meanwhile the feelings from her sex were growing acute. Leonard had licked up and down, poked his tongue inside her, and the crisis was on its way far too quickly.

She left off his penis, just holding it in one hand, while Leonard pressed his tongue into lovely areas. When he pulled her ass-cheeks apart, the sensations were intoxicating.

She pressed her groin into his face, her eyes closed, her breathing rapid. Her legs had tensed, her toes curled. A sudden thrust of her hips, and the first wave hit, then a slower and softer second. She lay limp on top of him, hand still on his erection. She almost cried, http://www.alrincon.com/en/noticia30.php?url=the_instagram_of_the_day_leah_blefko&com=1043126#formu

it was so sweet.

He continued to nurse, slowly and gently, at her crotch, until she began to work him again. Leonard had always said how much greater his arousal became when she had climaxed herself, that having her broadly furred crotch press down on his face, and the squeezing instinctual movements of her thighs gripping his face sent marvelous signals to his own penis.

She licked his balls, redolent with a day's built-up scent, then took him deep again, then almost out, just suckling on his prick-head, a few more slithers up and down his shaft and she felt him tighten.

Six times he tensed and pulsed, the sperm release always took her by surprise. No matter how much she expected it. She nursed the last oozings out of him.

Nikki, sweaty and raglike, finally untangled herself and settled up next to Leonard. They held each other. A final exhaustion found them both.

At the breakfast table the next day Nikki was adamant.

"Leonard, the pen has to stay here. You cannot bring it to work."

Leonard was not about to argue, seeing Nikki's expression that morning.

After Leonard left, Nikki composed herself. She called in sick, took the day off. Her students could cope with one day missing from their education. She had until noon. She moved about their home, rearranged books and counter-top items, paced restlessly from room to room.

At half-past eleven she started downtown.

She entered Amorous Goods, glad to find not Dylan but someone who introduced herself as Vikki. She had been hoping that there would be others in the store, which would have make her task easier, but she was the only one in the shop.

She reacquainted herself with the layout of the place and finally called Vikki over.

"Sorry to trouble you, but I have been looking at a couple of your globes. This one, she held in her hand, is handsome, but I wonder if you could reach another one for comparison. The globe in what you must call the British room? Up high on the top shelf I believe? I spotted it the other day."

Vikki nodded, "Yes I think I know which one you mean. Smaller than this one, oceans are done in green?"

"Yes, that's it exactly. Do you suppose you could bring it down for a proper look, and I can compare the two side by side?"

She hoped her voice sounded neutral, that perhaps any excitement might be interpreted as a buyer's interest.

Off Vikki went and Nikki quickly opened her purse and pulled the pen and ink bottle out, in their original packaging. She furtively opened the bottom drawer of a desk she had chosen for her deposit, an large imposing oaken desk with a roller top, with multiple drawers and nooks, placed the pen and inkwell in a back section and closed it.

She stood holding the one globe as Vikki returned with the other.

"This one is late eighteenth century," began Vikki, from Genoa.

"Right, about a hundred years earlier than this one," said Nikki, with what she hoped sounded like authority. "You can usually tell the age of a globe by how Australia is rendered. See how misshapen the earlier one is? They really had no idea how to handle that mysterious land, no way to know its size, anything."

Nikki examined each carefully, making small observations to a patient Vikki.

When enough time had gone by, Nikki hoping she displayed what would pass as authentic interest, she thanked Vikki profusely.

"Let me check with my partner, either of these would be worthy additions to our study."

Then a quick farewell, and Nikki was out the door, almost done.

The last granite step to the street and the turn home produced an airy feeling of relief Nikki had not felt in weeks. Whatever difficulties her talk with Leonard that night might produce could be surmounted. But she was free.

Amorous Goods: The Magic Pen

Report Page