As Alice continued to shake her head no and beg for some sort of intermission, Amalia's eyes opened wide and her nostrils flared, anger erupting from deep within her. "No? No?!?!? You tepid little slut, there is no NO for you. You do what I tell you when I tell you to do it." And I watched as Amalia's left hand grabbed Alice's hair and pulled back, forcing her to stand tall, then taller, forcing Alice's feet to scrabble on the carpet for traction, bending Alice's head back over her shoulder, compelling her to stand up straight, as her right arm slid up from its position of support until it travelled up to Alice's neck, and reached around to grasp her own left shoulder. Her left hand snaked down and dug itself into Alice's wet slit, her fingers curling sideways to cover as much of her slit as possible, moving slowly at first. Her right knee slid forward under Alice's butt, forcing Alice to open her legs and almost to "present" her vagina to me.
Amalia turned her head to the left, her lips buried in Alice's right ear, tonguing the delicate lobes and canals of her outer ear even as she tightened her arm and constricted the airflow, drawing tighter and tighter around Alice's neck. Alice's eyes opened wider in shock and fear, her speechless acknowledgment of the total loss of control and total surrender that she was feeling. I still remained frozen, sinking deeper on my haunches, my cock erect and bobbing before me, precum oozing once again from my slit.
Amalia's lips began to move slightly, and I strained to hear what she murmurred in Alice's ear, as her voice shrank to a whisper. The breath noises that Alice had been making disappeared, and she paid total attention to the voice in her ear, as if her very life depended on it, and perhaps it did. "You...Don't...Say...No...To...Me! This isn't a game, certainly not for you. You have no choices here, no options." And she hiked Alice's body higher off the ground, tightening her grip, forcing Alice to fight for every breath as her face became redder and redder. "This isn't about you, or what you want. Do you understand? Do...You...Understand?" And Alice shook her head in agreement, struggling to make a positive sound, whispering a "yes".
Amalia released her hold on Alice's neck, and went back to support her by putting an arm across her chest at armpit level, her left hand still strumming madly at Alice's cunt for a moment or two, then removing all support as Alice tumbled to the ground.
"Jerk him off, and this time make sure he cums in your hand."
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Bad News
About a month ago, I posted something about Her older sister and her medical difficulties, thinking that She and I had the full picture and understood what the problems were.
We were ever so wrong, and it has made the holiday season difficult for both Her and for me. As it turns out, Her sister has Alzheimer's, a particularly tragic diagnosis inasmuch as Her sister is a brilliant scientist and mathematician who works for the National Institute of Health in DC, and is the thing that she dreaded most in all of the numerous possibilities of illnesses. She'll be treated at Johns Hopkins, evidently the best place for Alzheimer's patients, and is scheduled for a full diagnostic panel on Thursday, to determine the extent and progress of the disease. The outcome can never be good, only less bad. We also know that it is somewhat hereditary, and having a sibling with the disease makes Her more prone than otherwise.
As much as I dislike the sister and the way she treated Her, I can't help but feel heartbroken at what I know will be an ever progressing downward slide , a cruel and heartless way to end one's life.
It's made posting about anything else in my personal life somewhat probmatic, but I will be back soon, or soon enough.
We were ever so wrong, and it has made the holiday season difficult for both Her and for me. As it turns out, Her sister has Alzheimer's, a particularly tragic diagnosis inasmuch as Her sister is a brilliant scientist and mathematician who works for the National Institute of Health in DC, and is the thing that she dreaded most in all of the numerous possibilities of illnesses. She'll be treated at Johns Hopkins, evidently the best place for Alzheimer's patients, and is scheduled for a full diagnostic panel on Thursday, to determine the extent and progress of the disease. The outcome can never be good, only less bad. We also know that it is somewhat hereditary, and having a sibling with the disease makes Her more prone than otherwise.
As much as I dislike the sister and the way she treated Her, I can't help but feel heartbroken at what I know will be an ever progressing downward slide , a cruel and heartless way to end one's life.
It's made posting about anything else in my personal life somewhat probmatic, but I will be back soon, or soon enough.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Is The Economy Improving on Main Street?
Sometimes, the best indicators of how much the economy is improving aren't the numbers and pecentages coming out of Washington, but rather then tenor of the local scene...how the local mom and pop stores are doing.
The corner restaurant down the block from me was hit hard by the economic downturn, and one of the ways they tried to stimulate business was a BYOB policy---seven days a week, bring your own wine, no corkage fees. At the end of the summer, they dialed back the policy to Monday through Thursday, and I recently noticed that this inducement was only available Monday and Tuesday.
A smaller glimmer of hope perhaps.
The corner restaurant down the block from me was hit hard by the economic downturn, and one of the ways they tried to stimulate business was a BYOB policy---seven days a week, bring your own wine, no corkage fees. At the end of the summer, they dialed back the policy to Monday through Thursday, and I recently noticed that this inducement was only available Monday and Tuesday.
A smaller glimmer of hope perhaps.
Monday, December 7, 2009
A Misstep by Her
Two operative facts here:
1) She and I have made great strides in general during the last six months, and in communicating specifically.
2) We are grandparents, and have been for more than five years, first a granddaughter who is quick, bright, beautiful, a girl who understood sarcasm before she was three, and is sharp with people without being cruel. She can be called The Beauty, because she is. And then there's The Boy, born in February, always quick to smile, talking a mile a minute, trying hard to say words and express his thoughts. God help us when he gets started, because he truly has a lot to say.
In October, I travelled to the high country in Ecuador, trekking up and down dormant and not so dormant volcanoes. I brought back presents for The Beauty and for The Boy, more things for her than for him---a purse, some volcanic rocks, hand knit gloves, a peasant blouse. For the Boy, just a pair of yellow gloves, also hand knit. And I was supposed to give them yesterday, during a visit.
She went into the gift bag, and removed the peasant blouse, because it didn't have a hem at the bottom, and the gloves, because they were yellow and meant for a girl. She told me this less than 15 minutes before they all arrived, and said she did it so that I wouldn't embarrass myself.
Rather than start the battle royale which is now brewing, I capitulated, and gave them what was left in the bag. There was no room or time for discussion yesterday.
This was a terrible thing that she did, bad in its concept, bad in its timing, bad in its overall effect. It diminished the presents and diminished me, whether anybody knew it or not yesterday afternoon. It was the worst thing she could have done, and it was done in the worst possible way, short of taking the gifts away after I gave them.
This will undo much of the goodwill and understanding that we've developed over the last year, no matter what discussions we have tonight and what resolution comes out.
This is bad, very bad, very very bad.
1) She and I have made great strides in general during the last six months, and in communicating specifically.
2) We are grandparents, and have been for more than five years, first a granddaughter who is quick, bright, beautiful, a girl who understood sarcasm before she was three, and is sharp with people without being cruel. She can be called The Beauty, because she is. And then there's The Boy, born in February, always quick to smile, talking a mile a minute, trying hard to say words and express his thoughts. God help us when he gets started, because he truly has a lot to say.
In October, I travelled to the high country in Ecuador, trekking up and down dormant and not so dormant volcanoes. I brought back presents for The Beauty and for The Boy, more things for her than for him---a purse, some volcanic rocks, hand knit gloves, a peasant blouse. For the Boy, just a pair of yellow gloves, also hand knit. And I was supposed to give them yesterday, during a visit.
She went into the gift bag, and removed the peasant blouse, because it didn't have a hem at the bottom, and the gloves, because they were yellow and meant for a girl. She told me this less than 15 minutes before they all arrived, and said she did it so that I wouldn't embarrass myself.
Rather than start the battle royale which is now brewing, I capitulated, and gave them what was left in the bag. There was no room or time for discussion yesterday.
This was a terrible thing that she did, bad in its concept, bad in its timing, bad in its overall effect. It diminished the presents and diminished me, whether anybody knew it or not yesterday afternoon. It was the worst thing she could have done, and it was done in the worst possible way, short of taking the gifts away after I gave them.
This will undo much of the goodwill and understanding that we've developed over the last year, no matter what discussions we have tonight and what resolution comes out.
This is bad, very bad, very very bad.
Monday, November 30, 2009
SSS
She and I watch a fair amount of television---no reality shows, mostly police procedurals and medical soap operas of the evening variety. Invariably, on a medical show, a surgical candidate goes south with heart stoppage, the OR staff zotzes the patient once or twice, after someone declaims "Patient in V-Tach", and another voice declaims "Normal sinus rhythm." And that's what this post is about.
As I've said from time to time, She is the middle sister of three, a child of an alchoholic father and an abused mother. Her older sister, known to us as The Wicked Witch of The West, was the valedictorian in high school, the cheerleader, the "everything" that She wasn't, She who went out with motorcycle gangs from Polishtown and belched out load at the dinner table. And so She bore the brunt of all the disapproval from the entire family, especially from Her older sister.
Fast forward to the present, where Her sister no longer speaks to her, because She has the audacity to speak with her nephew (known as The Golden Boy, son of the Witch) after mother and son had quarrelled. On a visit to her house about a year ago by both sisters, even the youngest could see who mean and abusive the older was.And so for the last eight months, She and I have had woefully little information about her, except to know that she hadn't been feeling well and was undergoing some tests (her husband, aka Peter Pan, divulges nothing ).
Last Tuesday, before Thanksgiving (to which we had invited the entire family, and to which she never even responded), we found out that she had suffered a seizure, was unconscious for five minutes, was hospitalized, and "not doing well", in some local third rate medical center. Initial test revealed no stroke, no Alzheimer's, no senility, in short nothing to indicate why she had passed out---oh, and did I mention that within the last month, while in traffic on the Capitol Beltway, she had stopped her car in a daze and just wandered off?
Friday, it was relayed to us that she was suffering from Sick Sinus Syndrome, a condition where not enough oxygen is pumped from the heart to the brain, resulting in all the erratic behavior. And so, we are left to wonder, which have gone on for almost a year, a result of this medical issue, or is she just as mean and vindictive as she's been her entire life?
Stay tuned.
As I've said from time to time, She is the middle sister of three, a child of an alchoholic father and an abused mother. Her older sister, known to us as The Wicked Witch of The West, was the valedictorian in high school, the cheerleader, the "everything" that She wasn't, She who went out with motorcycle gangs from Polishtown and belched out load at the dinner table. And so She bore the brunt of all the disapproval from the entire family, especially from Her older sister.
Fast forward to the present, where Her sister no longer speaks to her, because She has the audacity to speak with her nephew (known as The Golden Boy, son of the Witch) after mother and son had quarrelled. On a visit to her house about a year ago by both sisters, even the youngest could see who mean and abusive the older was.And so for the last eight months, She and I have had woefully little information about her, except to know that she hadn't been feeling well and was undergoing some tests (her husband, aka Peter Pan, divulges nothing ).
Last Tuesday, before Thanksgiving (to which we had invited the entire family, and to which she never even responded), we found out that she had suffered a seizure, was unconscious for five minutes, was hospitalized, and "not doing well", in some local third rate medical center. Initial test revealed no stroke, no Alzheimer's, no senility, in short nothing to indicate why she had passed out---oh, and did I mention that within the last month, while in traffic on the Capitol Beltway, she had stopped her car in a daze and just wandered off?
Friday, it was relayed to us that she was suffering from Sick Sinus Syndrome, a condition where not enough oxygen is pumped from the heart to the brain, resulting in all the erratic behavior. And so, we are left to wonder, which have gone on for almost a year, a result of this medical issue, or is she just as mean and vindictive as she's been her entire life?
Stay tuned.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Interlude: The Real Amalia
Longer ago than I care to remember, there was a real Amalia. It was during a time when young people still believed in gurus and avatars, when there was always someone cooler or hipper than you were, someone to be followed and studied, learned from. And so it was with Amalia...I had just met Her, and Amalia worked in the same research lab that She did, a seductive and manipulative woman, mysterious in her ways and connections, seemingly disdainful of us and our relationship, until we included her.
For almost a year, she dominated us and every aspect of our lives, holding us entirely and completely in her thrall. We totally surrendered ourselves to her domination and direction, I trying hard to fit such a dominant woman into a life that now included Her, and She becoming ever more submissive, forgetting how to think for Herself and how to make Her own decisions. We saw Amalia separately and as a couple, always deferring to her wisdom and judgements, gradually at first and then more and more, allowing her to control almost all aspects of our lives.
We were told how and where to live and love, given specific directions on how to experiment sexually with each other, what buttons to push and what avenues to explore. We were a compliant and complicit couple, She the middle daughter of an alcoholic father and an abused mother, always obedient, I besotted with Her and overwhelmed by the strength of Amalia.
For almost a year, she dominated us and every aspect of our lives, holding us entirely and completely in her thrall. We totally surrendered ourselves to her domination and direction, I trying hard to fit such a dominant woman into a life that now included Her, and She becoming ever more submissive, forgetting how to think for Herself and how to make Her own decisions. We saw Amalia separately and as a couple, always deferring to her wisdom and judgements, gradually at first and then more and more, allowing her to control almost all aspects of our lives.
We were told how and where to live and love, given specific directions on how to experiment sexually with each other, what buttons to push and what avenues to explore. We were a compliant and complicit couple, She the middle daughter of an alcoholic father and an abused mother, always obedient, I besotted with Her and overwhelmed by the strength of Amalia.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Not Enough #13
I stood poised in the doorway, knowing that crossing the threshold and re-entering the room was more than just a physical manifestation, and that once I went back into the room I went back into the vortex we all three had entered...Debra stood with her hands at her sides, her shoulders slumped down, her eyes downcast, a vacant stare on her face, looking every inch a defeated ragdoll, lost yet again in her own faraway world. Amalia now stood behind her, hands raised to Debra's breasts, gripping Debra's nipples between the thumb and middle finger of each hand, rolling the nipples back and forth between the fingers until they became stiff. She lifted each breast by the nipple, and I could see the fluttering of Debra's heart, Debra who was now no longer Debra, but who was morphing into Alice, a new person created by Amalia.
"Plug that thing in and hold it against her clit...let's see just how long it takes her to cum." And so I extended the long cord to the nearest outlet and knelt in front of Alice's vagina, the dyed blue hairs now drenched in fluid, her cuntlips now engorged and slick with her arousal. I held the head of the vibrator flush up against her, moving it around in little circles, trying to match the rotation of the hips in front of me. Alice now exhaled deeply, and emitted a slight moan, the tempo of her breathing increasing, her mouth open and her tongue working itself back and forth across her lower lip, her discreet little noises now cascading on top of one another in rhythm to the circling of the vibrator, the wetness now starting to shine at the tops of her thighs.
"Please, she asked..."Please what?" "Please, can I cum, just a little?"
There was only silence for long seconds, ten seconds, fifteen seconds, as the vibrator hummed away and as Alice sank deeper into her own arousal...then finally, "Cum right now, little girl," and I watched as waves of contractions rippled through her belly, her chest and shoulders shrugging several times quickly, then she sagged back against Amalia.
She had always told me that when she came, the sensations immediately afterward were too intense to bear, and she needed to separate. But I could see the evil smile on Amalia's lips, as she looked me straight in the eye.
"Make her cum again," she said, and Alice just tried to moan her dissent and disapproval.
"Plug that thing in and hold it against her clit...let's see just how long it takes her to cum." And so I extended the long cord to the nearest outlet and knelt in front of Alice's vagina, the dyed blue hairs now drenched in fluid, her cuntlips now engorged and slick with her arousal. I held the head of the vibrator flush up against her, moving it around in little circles, trying to match the rotation of the hips in front of me. Alice now exhaled deeply, and emitted a slight moan, the tempo of her breathing increasing, her mouth open and her tongue working itself back and forth across her lower lip, her discreet little noises now cascading on top of one another in rhythm to the circling of the vibrator, the wetness now starting to shine at the tops of her thighs.
"Please, she asked..."Please what?" "Please, can I cum, just a little?"
There was only silence for long seconds, ten seconds, fifteen seconds, as the vibrator hummed away and as Alice sank deeper into her own arousal...then finally, "Cum right now, little girl," and I watched as waves of contractions rippled through her belly, her chest and shoulders shrugging several times quickly, then she sagged back against Amalia.
She had always told me that when she came, the sensations immediately afterward were too intense to bear, and she needed to separate. But I could see the evil smile on Amalia's lips, as she looked me straight in the eye.
"Make her cum again," she said, and Alice just tried to moan her dissent and disapproval.
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