Annia & Her Lover

Smoke from Annika's cigarette curled upwards in that peculiar way that it does when the air in a room is perfectly still; rippling slowly at the base from the heat, then straightening into a long, twisting line until it permeates the atmosphere, ceasing to exist.

She sat in the dark, staring at the computer screen, one hand on the mouse, the other holding an empty wineglass on her leg, palm covering the top, rocking the base in circular motions into the fleshy top of her thigh. She was still wearing her work clothes, a grey business suit and a silk blouse, black hose, shoes kicked off in the corner. The only sound in the room was her old alarm clock, ticking off the seconds as the time passed two a.m.

For nearly five weeks she had been corresponding by e-mail with a person she'd never met face to face. It could have been a regular man, as he purported to be, or it could have been a lesbian who got off on imitating men, or just some freak in cyberspace looking for something to do, or someone's head to fuck with. She didn't care; she was riveted. Despite her better instincts, she had become addicted to his daily messages.

The exchanges had started out as a casual response to a personal ad she had put up on Yahoo; no picture, just a description of a young female accountant seeking a man who could take her mind off of work at the end of the day. The responses she got were not encouraging until one day a man calling himself Antonio sent her a note she couldn't refuse to answer. And soon, he, and the e-mails he sent, were controlling her life.

It wasn't that Annika wasn't pretty; she was, by any standard, a naturally good looking woman. She had a pretty face and olive skin, with strong dark eyes surrounded by shoulder length black hair. Her figure was naturally slim, and she had no trouble attracting men. She rollerbladed, spent time with her one or two close girlfriends, and tried to improve herself by taking Italian lessons and visiting museums.

Annika had, in fact, dated many men, nearly all of whom had she had judged as ultimately not worth her company. As an accountant for Big Six firm in Manhattan, Annika spent most of her evenings working late, keeping her boss happy and earning herself a reputation as a career woman. What little free time she did have she didn't feel like wasting in smoky bars, talking with drunk men who were more interested in getting into her panties than into understanding who she was. She simply couldn't seem to find that special guy who could take her mind off of work when she came home from the office, and inspire her intellectually.

That is, until she found Antonio on the internet. His nightly missive started like this:

"I'm on my hands and knees, naked, my bronzed skin covered in the humid heat of a hot summer night. My head is hanging between my arms, blindfold on. I am exhausted from your beatings, my back and ass red with pain, my breath labored, eyes watering with pain.

You are sitting backwards on my spine, also naked except for a leather bustier and black stiletto heals. Your labia lips are straddling a particularly large vertebra in my backbone, your clit on the top of its highest point, being pressed into your vagina with constant pleasure. You are oiling-up a huge, black-flesh colored dildo with your hands, stroking the fake cock up and down with the saliva-like lubricant."

Annika immediately began to feel her vagina moisten. It had gone on like this for weeks. He had first written to her, explaining that to find excitement at the end of the day, she could not expect an ordinary man to fulfill her extraordinary expectations. She needed intellectual excitement, not long walks in the park and honesty.

Antonio continued.

"You lean over, open your mouth and let some spit slowly run out of your red lips onto my asshole in a long, white string, collecting in the tiny pink folds of my anus. Grasping the dildo with both hands, you gently press it against my anus, swirling the tip in your spit. I groan in expectation of the pain to come, and then, in one swift movement, you shove the head of the cock into my ass, as I scream out, white slivers of pain-induced lightning shooting across my eyeslids."

Annika put the wineglass on the desk and reached under her already moistened pantyhose. Her finger found her clit and slowly began its all too familiar motion.

"You twist the phallic rubber by its balls, slipping it around in my ass with ease in the spit and lubricant. I scream in excruciating pain, and you laugh at my weakness, slowly plunging the full length of the rubber cock into me until its balls meet mine. You draw it all the way out as my gaping ass slowly gathers itself together, only to plunge it in again, driving it deep, in and out like a prisoner being initiated to the rights of jail. I wail with pain as you sadistically brutalize me, again and again and again, each time plunging the cock into me harder, faster and deeper."

Annika set the mouse aside and pulled down her pantyhose with both hands. She reached into the desk and pulled out a small pink vibrator, twisting it on, replacing it where her hand had been. She grabbed the mouse and began to scroll down.

"Soon I am trembling with pain, begging for you to stop. You shove the dildo up to its hilt in my ass and hold it there with the palm of your hand, while with your other hand, you reach underneath my groin and begin to stroke my cock. Your hot, greased hand makes me so hard my cock aches with blood as you alternate stroking my cock and plunging the dildo into my ass.

"You warn me not to cum, but soon the sensation is too strong and I let out a moan of pleasure as my semen begins to shoot onto the wooden floor. But as soon as it flows, you grip my cock with all your might, cutting off the flow the flow of cum, causing excruciating pain in my groin, ending all sexual pleasure. You jam the dildo into me with all your weight and lean on it with the palm of your hand.

WEAKLING!!" You scream at me for my incivilitude."

Annika's heart was pounding now, an orgasm right around the corner.

"I shudder with weakness as my limbs tremble, and suddenly my world goes black as I buckle and collapse on the floor, passing out in pain. You laugh once again, kicking me with your heal, leaving a red dimple in my back, as excess cum dribbles out of my now limp cock.

"You pull the dildo out of my ass, wiping its length with one swipe of your thumb and forefinger, flicking the excess lubricant onto my limp body.

"You place its rubber base against the floor and straddle the head, mounting it like a horse, riding it up and down, bouncing on your knees, holding it in place with your hands. It fills your cunt like no man could, spreading your vagina unbelievably wide. You bounce on the dildo stare at my limp body, covered in sweat, cum, and lubricant, and soon a screaming orgasm washes over you. You're half laughing, half crying in hysterics, your juices turning into white foam on the edges of cock as you bounce up and down. Soon too, you feel the blood draining from your head as you pass out into a crumpled heap by my side in exhaustion, covered in sweat."

Annika's orgasm had started two paragraphs before the end and just kept coming as she finished the story. She was out of breath, wondering to herself who Antonio was, and why, night after night, he wrote such stories, each time taking her mind to new sexual heights than ever before. All she could do before falling asleep was write a simple, eloquent note of thanks to her lover, whoever he was, telling him write again tomorrow.