Literotic asexstories – Sara’s Tale by SaraAndSimon2,SaraAndSimon2
Great Aunt Mary was dying, but that still didn’t prevent her from summoning Sara to her bedside. She was a force of nature, and not one that Sara thought she could deny. Certainly not now.
For someone who was — apparently — at death’s door, she looked surprisingly healthy, or at least as healthy as anyone who has turned 100 can expect to look. And when she took Sara’s hand in hers, her grip forced a smile out of both of them.
“Your parents are going to be the death of me. The pair of them are completely useless. Sad, depressing… boring. And I’m worried that’s what you’re going to become.”
“But, Great Aunt…”
“No. I won’t hear it. So this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to have a bet with you. And even though I won’t be around to see if you actually do it, God help me I will haunt you every day of your life if you cheat me!”
xXx
Five days later she received the call she had been dreading. Great Aunt Mary had passed away that morning. But nothing quite prepared her for the envelope that she received the day after.
The envelope was a pale blue, and smelled faintly of Jasmine. The address was written in a crabbed hand, just well enough to allow the postman to deliver it.
And inside was the strangest letter she had ever received.
“Dearest Sara” it began, “I promised you a bet, so I suppose I had better deliver. By the time you were born I was in my fifties, and you probably only ever remember me as an elderly annoying relative. But in my day I was quite the thing. If you don’t believe me, look at the photo — but please do wait until I have finished this first. I’m worried that you are going to wake up one day and realise that you are the fifty year old that I was when I first saw you, but without having the pleasures that I’ve enjoyed. But it isn’t too late for you. You’re 48 now, so here is what you are going to do.
I bet you my whole estate that you can transform yourself into the amazing, vibrant, loved woman I know you can be before you are fifty.
Go and find yourself a man, or a whole bunch of them, or a girl for all I care. But bring the photos to prove it to my grave on your 50th birthday. Do that and you can have everything. If you can’t then, well then give it all away. Cats or something.
But I’m betting on you. Go out. Be wild.
Mary x”
And there, slipped between the pages of the letter was a photo. The black and white portrait had clearly been posed in a studio somewhere. The young lady in it must have been about 20, and had been in the WRENs judging by the hat she was wearing. There wasn’t a lot more to go on as she was only wearing the hat.
xXx
So how do you start out on an adventure like this?
Sara’s initial thoughts were about people at her work. But they were all, without a shadow of a doubt, either happily married or exceptionally boring. And Sara was worried they would say the same about her. She certainly didn’t think she could imagine kissing any of them, never mind anything else.
Reluctantly she opened her laptop. Maybe there was someone out there who was a bit more exciting? And someone who didn’t already know her. And who didn’t live down the street.
Four days and three sites later Sara was about to throw her laptop across the room. Dick pics or flakes. Or both. She was reaching the end of her patience, and no she did not want to send nudes to HungBoy57.
This needed a new approach. Perhaps a better search might suggest something?
Her search engine was suggesting a beta-test of a new AI engine. It couldn’t be worse than HungBoy57. Who clearly wasn’t.
What would happen, she thought,if I just wrote out Great Aunt Mary’s letter? Would it come up with something? Come to think of it, it could interpret pictures.
She would type in the letter, and scan in the photo, and see what happened.
Sara was a little nervous when she had finished. But what was the worst that could happen? Her hand shook slightly as she moved the cursor to the search button, but she clicked anyway.
Two seconds later the result was back, but it wasn’t at all what she had expected. Just an address and a date:
37 A Lucknow Street,
Leeds
27th December, 4pm.
“Well.” Said Sara “It looks like I have a date”.
xXx
The problem with blind dates, other than not having any idea who might be on the other end, is security. Sara wasn’t about to head to a stranger’s home without checking things out, but it turned out (after a serious session on Google Streetview and a physical visit) that 37 A Lucknow Street was a photography studio run by a young, and fairly talented woman photographer.
Sara was still nervous, but at least felt that this was public enough to be safe for a first meeting.
She wasn’t quite sure what to wear, but jeans and a blouse seemed safe enough, so at 350pm she walked into the shop…
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Ah, hiya, I’m Vivienne. You must be Sara, I’ve got you and Simon booked in for 4pm, so if you can just give me a minute”
“Simon?”
“Yes, is he not with you? Look why don’t you look through some of my photos. And if you want there’s even a book of old photos I inherited with the shop over there, although I should warn you some of them are a bit risqué!”
Sara had seen some of Vivienne’s work online, pastoral scenes, a few family shots, but the vintage photos sounded fun.
As she flicked through the book she quickly came to the section that Vivienne had warned her about. A series of nudes from the second world war. All pretty demure by modern standards, and probably designed to be sent out to sweethearts in the forces. And there she was, her Great Aunt, almost winking out of the pages at her.
Suddenly she felt embarrassed and slammed the book shut, just as the door to the shop swept open and a tall man stepped in.
“Hi there,” said Vivienne, “You must be Simon”
“That’s me, but I’m not sure quite what…”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ve done lots of shoots like this! We’ll take our time getting you two comfortable in the back. Just go with the flow and I will make you look amazing!”
Sara looked at Simon. This must be her blind date, although he seemed as confused as she was. Still, not bad.
“Simon?” she said holding out her hand.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Sara. Your blind date. I hope this is what you were expecting!”
“Well no, I mean yes, I mean you’re… and I’m about to put my foot in it, aren’t I?”
“Possibly. But shall we go through to the studio? And see what Vivienne has got planned?”
xXx
Vivienne was busy adjusting a set of lights that surrounded a red velvet chaise-longue when they walked into the rear of the shop.
Sara imagined she could see some of the background from her Great Aunt’s photo — but realised that was probably hope more than anything.
Suddenly she stopped dead and raised her hand to her mouth.
“Are you OK?” asked Simon.
I am absolutely not going to tell him I was just picturing myself naked apart from a second world war hat, she thought, and thenBut really. Could I do that? Should I do that? What am I even thinking!
Luckily her train of thought was broken by Vivienne, “Come over here you two! You booked an hour of the Boudoir option, but let’s start by taking a few solo shots… and talking of shots, there’s some vodka in the fridge if you feel the need!”
“The Boudoir option?”
“Yup, Simon. Or do you prefer Si? No? Simon it is… was it a present? Ooooh Sara!” Vivienne seemed overjoyed, “I do like a woman who knows her own mind! Well in that case let’s start with you, and we can give Simon here a little treat.”
Before she realised what was happening Sara found herself lying on the settee like thing, with Vivienne rearranging her arms and legs. In fact it wasn’t so much lying as being draped. Vivienne deftly removed her trainers and socks, and then pushed her blouse off her shoulders.
“Oh, that’s lovely, just a little bit of a siren smile. Don’t you think so, Simon?”
“I certainly do!”
Sara looked up and saw that Simon had extracted the vodka from the fridge and had poured three glasses, one of which he was sipping whilst looking Sara up and down.
Sara didn’t quite know what to feel. She felt exposed, which was crazy since she was still fully dressed, but at the same time she didn’t hate it.
“Here, don’t drink that all yourself, I’m thirsty, and Vivienne here needs inspiration.”
“As you wish”
Simon walked over and handed her the ice-cold glass, brushing her hand slightly as he handed it over. Well that felt nice.
Vivienne had her pose for a few more shots, one of which — where she lay on her front — felt surprisingly sexy, then they decided it was time for Simon to have a go.
Vivienne got him to take off his shoes and socks, and then posed him for her camera.
Seeing it from this side, Sara could start to see the art in Vivienne’s work. She was making Simon relaxed, and that made him look really quite sexy.
Wait! What are you thinking! Stop that at once!
“Well,” said Vivienne, “Simon looks quite nice, but I think we can make him look nicer, don’t you?”
“Mmmmm”.What the fuck was that? Mmmmm? Am I a schoolgirl?
“Come over here Sara and kneel up on the sofa behind him. Good. Now on a count of three I want you to pull his T-shirt over his head. One…”
Simon looked confused “What?”
“Two, three! There we go!” The camera clicked and clicked and Sara just couldn’t help bursting into laughter as Simon span around to her…
xXx
Suddenly Simon’s face was just inches from hers, and Sara was very aware of his naked chest, and how hard he was breathing, and how she wanted to run her hands up his…
“Woah there you two! Time for that later! For now let’s just take a few more shots, but now of you together. Simon, you just lay back there, and Sara, why don’t you lie down on his chest?” This is just ridiculous thought SaraBut I can hear his heartbeat and if I move my hand just there it will be on his thigh.
“That looks great. But if you’re OK I’d like to do something a little more daring. Don’t worry Sara, nothing will be on show. But let’s get that blouse off.” If she had been blushing before it was nothing to how she was feeling now. ”I’m not sure I can do that in front of…”
“I’ll turn my back whilst you take it off, Sara” said Vivienne, totally missing the point. Simon had not, and an admittedly sexy smirk and a raised eyebrow told Sara he was interested in seeing how far this might go. Very interested.
Well, thought SaraI can be brazen. I can. Really And with that she slowly undid the buttons, and pushed her blouse off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Chin up, she stared directly into Simon’s eyes:See, I’m not frightened of that smile ”Now take the bra off,” came Vivienne’s voice “Simon, you can lie yourself back down, and Sara you can lie on top of him, chest to chest. That will look very very sexy.” Somehow Sara’s hand had leapt to her mouth again, and the tiniest squeak had escaped her lips. But fortunately Simon had closed his eyes and was now leaning back, invitingly on the chaise-longue.
There really wasn’t anything for it, she was going to have to go for it and do it before Vivienne realised that they weren’t a couple, that she had never even seen Simon before he walked into the studio…
And then there she was, lying topless on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of it as he breathed, listening to the click of the camera, her hand stroking his legs through his jeans, and her nipples hardening.
xXx
Sara moved herself up his body until her face was level with his, his eyes open again and very very blue, and without any thought entering her mind kissed him.
There was a moment of doubt. Had she misread him? But no, his mouth was opening beneath hers, and her straying hand had found some very clear evidence that he was feeling it too.
“Oh that is good! I thought it might take some more encouragement but go for it girl!”
Sara doesn’t quite know where that voice is coming from, or even quite where she is, but she takes the instruction to heart. Her left-hand twines itself into Simon’s hair as his runs up the small of her back, and her right hand starts to fumble at the buttons on his jeans.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, but Sara’s kisses shut him up, and her hand, finally finding its way inside his jeans, convinces him.
“OK now boys and girls, let’s pause it there, because I think it’s time to reset the scene a little.” Suddenly Sara doesn’t like Vivienne very much, but reluctantly she stops and leans up.
Oddly she doesn’t feel self-conscious any more, even though she’s sitting half-naked on a man she barely knows, with her hand in his trousers.Oh. Better take that out, I guess. At least he looks happy. As well he should! ”Right Sara, let’s pause the slutty for a few minutes, and head back to the sultry. Simon, go get us a refill on the vodka while me and your girl look through my prop drawer.”
xXx
Simon wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up in this position, but he had to admit it was interesting. And hot. Very hot.
Three days ago he had been in San Francisco, wondering where his life was going, when he had decided to try out this new AI search his friend was touting “It’s totally networked. It can tell you things you’ve never even thought of.”
And that was when he had received the message — this one address, and a suggested flight time.
And somehow he was now in a photo studio with a sexy redhead called Sara. Who had delightful breasts and even more delightful wandering hands.
Walking with an erection in his jeans was slightly awkward, but he had a task (and three glasses) in his hands.
The photographer (Vivienne?) and Sara were behind a chinoisie screen, evidently looking for things in a box of props. And he had no idea what those might be.
He walked back towards the couch, carrying the shots.
“Just put them down on the table, love, we won’t be long.”
Simon did just that, then sat down on a chair facing the screen. Vivienne popped her head around the corner.
“Right, no peeping. Close your eyes until I say…”
“You’re the boss, Vivienne. Just let me know when.”
Simon could hear a bit of giggling, and then the tapping of heels on the wooden studio floor.
“Now, open those eyes, and tell me that Sara isn’t the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever kissed!”
Standing in front of Simon was Sara. But not the Sara he had first seen, in her somewhat mumsy blouse and faded jeans.
This Sara was wearing the tiniest set of lingerie he could imagine: a lacy red bra, tiny briefs, with stockings, and a pair of dark red stiletto shoes. Yes, she might look a bit wobbly and probably shouldn’t be asked to run very far in them, but they stretched her legs out and gave one hell of a tilt to her ass. And her tits looked wonderful.
He was suddenly aware of how much time he was spending staring at her body, and the erection that had sprung to life in his pants.
“You don’t get out of it Scot free you know. Get over here, and let me introduce you to some rope I have, then I’m going to let Sara loose on you…”
At this stage Simon figured that there was no point trying to hide things, but as he stepped to the chaise-longue he couldn’t help notice Sara’s eyes scooting down his chest to his hard-on. As he held his hands out to Vivienne he looked over to Sara and shrugged as if to say “Yes, I’m hard, but what can you expect”.
Sara smiled.
xXx
Vivienne turned out to be just as good with ropes as she was with the camera, and a few minutes later Simon found himself stretched out on the sofa, with his arms firmly tied far above his head.
He was about to say something, anything really, but Sara put her fingers to her lips.
“Hush now. We don’t want you spoiling your surprise.”
Vivienne was back at the camera, and Simon could almost feel the touch of the long lens as she scanned across his body.
Sara leant down, and kissed him firmly on the lips, before trailing her own lips down and across his chest.
He arched his back, struggling against the sensations, and groaned as she brushed his left nipple with her teeth.
While her mouth was working on his nipple her hands were undoing his belt and fly, and reaching in around his hard cock. Suddenly Simon felt very, very out of control.
xXx
Sara knew this wasn’t the kind of thing she should be doing, but this tall stranger had really done something to her. Her body was singing, and although it was years since she had gone down on a man she knew, somehow, that this was what she needed.
She could feel him in her hands. To be honest she wasn’t really sure if it counted as big or not — it had been that long — but as she lowered her mouth towards it she decided it looked plenty big enough.
Slowly she stroked him, pulling his foreskin down and exposing the head. Her tongue reached out, as if it had a mind of its own, and now she could taste him. His salty, manly taste ignited her pussy, and she only stifled a groan of her own by pushing her mouth firmly down on him.
She had given head before. Of course she had. But that had always seemed to be an act of subservience, something she’d done to please angry lovers, to make them know that she was worth it. This was different. This was her, taking her pleasure. And the stretched out, tied up man in front of her could just shut his mouth and lie back and think of England, or wherever it was he came from.
Sara was in control, and it showed. Vivienne leant in to capture the look of lust on her face as Sara took Simon deep into her mouth. Then she was on the other side of the room, taking in the pair of them. They did look good, and it was a shame that she wouldn’t be able to display these photos in the studio. From the back of the studio she could see Simon arching his back, his chest rising from the red velvet, Sara’s hair cascading across his hips and jeans, her back above his legs, with that telltale dampness in her panties, and her legs spread as she positioned her mouth over him. This shot deserved some additional review tonight.
Then she noticed the movements of Sara’s head becoming more aggressive, and Simon shouted out something and heaved his hips one more time.
Wiping her mouth Sara stood up and walked across to Vivienne. Vivienne lowered her camera and Sara kissed her deeply.
“Thank you for the use of your studio. That was fun.”
“No problem… you were both great. And I can taste him on you, you know.”
“I hoped you would. Now, can you untie him once I’ve got dressed and left?”
xXx
It was only twenty minutes later, on the train home, that Sara suddenly realised that she had absolutely no way of contacting Simon.
“Fuck”
Leave a Reply