Alyssa's Needs Trilogy

Chapter One-2

In short, with her sultry cream-colored face, her slinky young figure, and her sly predilections, she could be an unendurable c**k-tease ever 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, for 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 cozy restaurant, where they laughed and smiled so easily, and sometimes she leaned endearing in with her soft head upon his shoulder, or even dropped her hand with unspoken promise upon the top of his quivering thigh while they fed one another morsels from their own plates, he drove the girl out into the country at her coy instigation. At last, trembling faintly in his own need and his helpless anticipation, he parked the car along some deserted dirt road in the soft moonlight beside a cattail-fringed pond. And there, 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 ever crazier with desire.

He begged her to go further, but though his hands roamed her clothed body hungrily, caressing and squeezing like an animal, it had pleased her mood instead to refuse, and to make him suffer exquisitely. God, the feel of those curvy young hips and her sleekly tapering waist, and the denim-wrapped pubis so warm and ever so faintly moist somehow whenever he touched the fabric experimentally. Mm, and the delight of the resilient handfuls of her chest that jiggled in his grasping palms, scarcely covered by a thin, silky blouse and a brassiere that felt teeny-weeny and lacy and very deeply cut! 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 oh-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.

“Really?” wondered Alyssa, her voice suddenly girlish and shy at his compliment. Quickly, though, she caught herself, and she pursed her lips knowingly. “You like ’em, huh?” she asked, watching his wide, helpless eyes.

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 aroused him incredibly. Ah, the jaunty shape of those deliciously feminine fruits of delight, the seeming smoothness of their delicate pale skin, the flattering erections that crowned each forbidden handful! It was all he could do to restrain himself. “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, “Mm, your n*****s 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. Smirking primly, however, 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 you mean?” he had asked breathlessly.

“Show me,” said the bare-breasted girl again, surprising him and riling 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 p***y, 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, to grapple with that slender white flesh and put her under him, to throw her kittenish thighs wide and just mount her! Mm, to push her velvety lips squelchingly apart with his exulting masculinity and feel her snug and slippery and blazing hot along every veiny inch of him as he penetrated her to the very core! Yes, to make her shudder and gasp as he possessed her, crushed her beautiful pale nudity beneath his straining hairy male flesh, filled her again and again and again with his raging red erection until his eyes rolled back in his head and with every stringy gout of his overflowing lusts he just made her all his somehow…

“And it would be a big mess, wouldn’t it?” she wondered crookedly. “A great big, thick, gooey mess…?”

Brad swallowed. Oh, how full he felt in the heavy sac beneath his belly, how heavy with the promise of the semen that had oozed and drizzled and brewed over the last few hours! Yes, she was right—when he came, it was going to be a dozen squirts if it was one, a tremendous glopping mess that went on and on and on…

“Yes,” he replied at last, very quietly. “It sure would be…”

“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 n*****s 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 n*****s 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 n*****s slowly between her thumbs and fingertips.

“Wh-wh-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 a bad boy need to do to himself.”

Brad licked his lips. The notion embarrassed him, and for a moment his p***s 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!

“You do want it, don’t you, bad boy?” wondered Alyssa in carefully quiet tones that belied the saucy smirk she simply could not hide. “You’re a naughty, naughty thing, aren’t you?” Licking her lips, she palmed those smooth, upstanding young breasts, her eyes never leaving his. “And for these,” she crooned softly, squeezing the fiercely erect dark tips that both reflected her own simmering arousal and yet also could be used to push her excitation higher, ever higher, “you’ll do anything, won’t you? Aaaanything…”

Brad looked hopefully up into the eyes that held him exposed and helpless and yet also painfully excited. “R-really?” he asked at last, shyly. “Sh-should I…?”

Alyssa smiled regally down at him, and yet though the unashamed hands that caressed her pale, lovely bosom posed as teasing and grandly unconcerned, her eyes seemed to burn with secret eagerness. “Yes!” she husked.

Swallowing, then, Brad reached embarrassedly down and began to masturbate before her.

“There you go…” she whispered, her cheeks deeply flushed.

He had never done anything like this before. It seemed so dirty—and yet so wildly inflaming as well. He simply could not help himself. Shivering, he jerked at his naked reddened member, fist growing ever more rapid as the dark-haired temptress-angel smiled placidly down at him. Exposed before this girl whom he scarcely knew, he pleasured himself like a beast, thrilling to the look in her eyes as she caressed herself absently. How lovely she was, how cool and serene and commanding! Delicately she fingered herself, smiling down all the while at his helpless movements.

At first his movements had been unnaturally mechanical, a simple up-and-down motion made less for truly pleasuring himself than for somehow saving face before his date, for simply doing what she said she wanted. Gradually, however, he grew more demonstrative in his movements, more personal—no longer did he restrain himself by trying to seem controlled and calm. God, it felt so good, and the very thought of it was so naughty! Mm, to lie exposed and hugely erect, jerking off beneath the simmering dark eyes of this commanding angel who, bare-breasted and lovely, touched herself in slow counterpoint as she leered down at his every helpless struggle...The titillation was exquisite. He craved the brutish liquid release of his growing physical tension more than sanity itself, and yet he wanted the anticipation of it, the beautiful torment, never to end.