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@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ ³ "Tilly" ³ ³ ³ ³ By The Woodpecker ³ @END_FILE_ID.DIZ There is a special place that I would like you to know about. It's my own mail folder at Gary and Heather's BBS, in Atlanta, Georgia, (404-244-7059). I call my special place "HEATHER'S IN & OUT BOX." Please feel free to give me a call there anytime. You can leave me messages, let me know what you think about my stories, or just engage in some chit-chat. Come and join in on some good ole' adult fun with me and my friends. Bring along some of your own friends if you like...we'd love to have you all! I'm sure we can have a delightfully wonderful time together. Hope to hear from you soon! Heather Dawson, Sysop ³ The following story was authored by one of the growing ³ ³ number of erotic writers that make Gary & Heather's BBS ³ ³ their home. Our OWN GROWN tales of erotica are proving ³ ³ to be some of the hottest, wildest, most exciting that ³ ³ can be! ³ ³ ³ ³ Our OWN GROWN authors write with sincerity, in hopes ³ ³ that you will be able to empathize with the eroticism, ³ ³ joy, and sensitivity that they themselves possess. Come ³ ³ and share with our family in our fantasies AND real-life³ ³ sexual experiences! ³ ³ "Tilly" ³ ³ ³ ³ By The Woodpecker ³ COPYRIGHT (C) 1991 - By The Woodpecker (cml) - All rights reserved except as provided for herewith: This document MAY BE freely reproduced, or transmitted by any form or any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval systems, electronic bulletin board systems, or magnetic media, or other means deemed suitable, providing it is not modified in part or whole nor sold, or combined with other products sold commercially, without the express written permission of the author. Gary & Heather's BBS, Atlanta, Georgia - (404) 244-7059 "OUR OWN GROWN QUALITY STORIES OF EROTICA" I sat on the futon with the remote in one hand, a cigarette in the other, flipping through the channels. I caught a glimpse of lingerie and clicked back to "Twin Peaks," imagining the sight of Sherilyn Fenn half-naked over me. Another dull Saturday night. Tilly was working until close again at the restaurant, which usually meant she'd be too tired to want to go out afterwards. We hadn't seen each other all week, and even though we'd talked on the phone, I was going crazy from her absence. I didn't have much to look forward to lately except her. Jobs were scarce, and my savings were nearly shot. I can't really afford to go out anyway, I thought, and crushed my cigarette. "Twin Peaks" was ending and I flipped over to the local news. My eyes were on the TV, but my thoughts were on Tilly. I wondered how serious she thought we were. I had been in love before, but this seemed solid, secure. I didn't want to ruin it though, and only recently had we begun to get physical, quick kisses here, a loving pat there. My fantasies were filled with images of Tilly in positions we shied away from speaking of. The anchorwoman began prattling about unemployment figures. I didn't want to be reminded, so I clicked over to Cinemax. A brunette was moaning while prudish camerawork zoomed in on her face and faded to black. I was about to turn the set off when the phone rang. "Hi, sweetie, it's me." Porcelain and steel crashed together in the background as Tilly spoke. "We've got a late rush, so I don't know when I'll be off. Hopefully soon, but don't count on it." "Well, okay, what time do you think?" "Oh, midnight I imagine. I've got to run. Want me to call later?" "Yeah, sure, I'll be up," I said, trying to put an eagerness into the words. "Maybe we can--" "Sorry, manager's calling, I'll talk to you soon. Bye." I lit another cigarette and blew a few smoke rings. Midnight, half an hour to clean up, ten minutes to get over here, ten minutes til last call at the bars. "No way," I murmured. My spirits fell from their momentary high on the phone. I really needed to see Tilly, to reassure myself that I wasn't all alone, to affirm my mind's elaborations of her face and the echoes of her laughter. I rested my head on the cushions and slowly drew deep breaths to rinse the dull ache from my chest. Nothing to do but wait. ~~~~~ I jerked awake to the bleat of the phone. I groped above my head and held the receiver to my ear. "Hello?" I croaked. "Did I wake you?" "No, no, just something in my throat. What's up?" I covered the phone and coughed my esophagus open. "You were asleep," Tilly said. "I'll just let you go back to bed." "No, wait, what time is it?" "Almost one. I knew I shouldn't call this late, but I thought maybe you'd be watching a movie or something." "Just dozed off for a second. So what are you up to?" My blood raced in hopes of seeing her. "I don't know. I'm too charged up to go straight home, but I guess the bars are closed. Damn." I pictured her biting her lower lip and ruffling her long brown hair as she looked at the clock. After a pregnant pause, I said, "I've got beer and wine over here. Why don't you come on over and have a drink? I'd really like to see you. It's been ages." "Six days!" Tilly laughed. "Well, if you're sure you're up--" "Yes, come on over. I'll see you in what, twenty minutes?" "Make it half an hour. I have to at least wash the smell of tomato sauce off. See you in a few." I hurried through the apartment, straightening the mess up a little if not actually cleaning. I try to keep things basically orderly, but dust and dishes tend to accumulate. With the ashtrays dumped, the dishes rinsed and stacked in the sink, and the bathroom touched up (I do draw the line at a filthy toilet), I'd just settled back onto the futon in clean jeans and an oxford when Tilly knocked and walked in. "Hey!" I said, wearing a Cheshire grin. "Hi! Long time no see!" Tilly dropped her purse and coat on a chair and sat down next to me with a breeze scented with lavender. She kicked her pumps off and curled her slender legs under her, modestly holding her denim skirt down. After adjusting her green cashmere sweater, she settled into the cushions. "What's this?" she asked, nodding at the TV. "I don't know. Something silly." I switched over to the preview channel to see what else was on. "Watch for something interesting while I get you that beer." I left to rummage through the fridge, returning with two glasses and a bottle of chablis. "I lied," I said. "No beer." "This is fine," Tilly said. "And `Casablanca' starts at 2:30. If you're awake." "Make that WE. You know how you zonk out after a few glasses of wine." I handed her a glassful and poured some for myself. I settled next to her and listened to the travesties of the night's work, admiring her features without ogling, listening passively. ". . . so the drunks finally left, and since most of the closing stuff was done, I got off right after. And I did make seventy-five dollars." Tilly drained her glass and refilled it. "Well that's not so bad for a Christmas break weekend," I said. "I can't complain. So." Her blue irises sparkled. "Thanks for listening. I just have to get work off my mind and off my chest. What have you done tonight?" It must have been the alcohol that tripped my tongue: "Finished a poem." "Can I read it?" Tilly hunched forward slightly. "Maybe finished isn't the right word--revised, maybe. I don't think it's quite done." Tilly sat back a bit, stared down into her glass as she sipped. I wanted to show her my work, but it happened to be a love poem to her, a poem whose effect I couldn't predict. But she sat there looking dejected for several minutes as we drank, and better judgment dissolved. "You really want to read it?" A broad smile creased her face. "Yes, if you don't mind." I retrieved the latest revision from a sheaf of papers on the end-table and handed it to her. I almost chickened out by excusing myself to the bathroom, but the way Tilly twirled her fingers in her hair and smiled with the poem in her hands held me to my seat. I sipped nervously while she read. Her eyes moved across the lines, paused, then retraced the words once more before looking to me. I tried to gauge her feelings about the semi-erotic amorous longings I'd expressed so frankly on paper, the emotions which I couldn't convey in conversation. Tilly massaged the toes of her left foot and stared at me poker-faced. I put my hands out in a supplicant gesture. Tilly straightened her legs and let me cradle her feet in my lap. I began rubbing the weariness from them while the poem lay mute between us. "I feel warm and wonderful," she finally said. "I do my best to give a good massage." I worked my thumbs along her arches, fighting the sexual urges I felt at the texture of the tight nylon. "Not just that." She picked up the poem and re-read a few lines. "You never said anything like this to me. No one has." Her hands grasped mine and I looked into her blushing face. "Why didn't you just tell me how you felt?" "You know how I am. I just don't communicate my feelings well. Not in front of people anyway. I write better than I speak." Tilly squeezed my hands. "Dance with me." We stood and I put some soft music on. Tilly curled into my body and swayed with my steps. Her warmth and scent aroused me as her head cradled against my shoulder. I rubbed her lean back through the cashmere, the sweater soft as her cool china hands. I felt a spark building as we shuffled over the carpet. It wasn't long before we were simply swaying in an embrace, her fingers shadowing mine as we traversed our bodies' landscapes. With renewed fear of breaking the spell I kept my hands chastely above her waist, until she slipped her fingers inside my jeans. I began to inscribe circles on her shoulderblades, spiraling along her vertebrae until I was cupping her buttocks and kneading them in alternating geometric patterns. "Kiss me," she whispered, moving her mouth over mine. We stood like marble, our only movements in our jaws and tongues as we pressed together, absorbing each others' pent-up passions. Tilly's arms wrapped as a boa clenching its prey, and I simply stood solid, praying that the contact wouldn't end. Tilly finally stepped back, opening her eyes to my gaze, and reaching behind to take my hand in hers. Her eyes sparkled with moist happiness, and I kissed away a tear which overran its dam. We turned in unison and resumed our slow dance, whispering the lyrics of the love song filling the room. ~~~~~ Before long we were cuddled close on the couch, swallowing the last of the wine. My joy was almost able to overcome my insecurities, but deeply lodged in my mind was a sense of dread. Something, somehow, was going to fail, I just knew it. But I sat with the thrill of warmth and love, cataloging the emotions and sensations I enjoyed with Tilly. When the music stopped, Tilly walked over to the stereo and shut it off. I admired her curvature as she bent, and she caught my smile when she turned back to me. With a toss of her hair and a lick of her lips, she stepped toward the bedroom, looking over her shoulder to lead me with her stare. Nervously, I proceeded down the hall, a few feet behind. I stopped in the doorway and again appreciated the female form, trailing my eyes along her softly lit, curled body on the bed. No longer was she modestly adjusting her skirt--it had pulled up beneath her, letting her legs show their entire length, flowing up and over the peaks of hips into the strong surge of her buttocks. She kicked off her shoes and extended her toes like a ballerina in piroutte, falling over to her back with her arms outstretched, beckoning. I laid on the bed alongside her, waiting for Tilly to reinstigate the touches to demonstrate her desire to go further. Too many times, it seemed, I was too eager to push the edges of the envelope, letting lust overcome love, burning myself. I would gladly be led by the ear with Tilly. The pull of her hand behind my thigh dismissed these thoughts. As she brought my leg across hers, Tilly lifted her jaw to kiss me. I relaxed the muscles in both my neck and thigh and half-covered her with my body. Our mouths were like a stormy sea of flying fish, mating at the crests of their surges. Breaths whistled in my ears. The strum in my chest beat double-time to Tilly's kneading grips on my back. Pressure increased as she strained against my weight like an isometric exercise. My extended member was trapped, pinned between layers of cloth and flesh, and I wondered about Tilly's body's response as I ran my lips down to the cleft of her neck. With her hands roaming my denim-clad extremities, I eased a hand under her soft green sweater. My fingers could hardly detect the difference between the cashmere and her body. My palms were damp, and to avoid the unpleasant friction of wet and dry skin, I skidded my fingernails up her torso, higher into the heat between us, rewarded with a sharp whisk of air past Tilly's teeth. I traced the lower edge of her bra while I nuzzled her earlobes, and I was pleased with her ardent clasps on my muscles. "Is this okay?" I murmured in her ear, momentarily ceasing my caresses. "God, you have to ask?" "I don't want any misunderstanding, any hurt feelings, any . . . anything to push us apart." I put a light kiss on her nose. "Nothing's coming between us, honey. I want you more than anyone." Tilly rolled away from me and sat up. She brought me nearer with a curl of her fingers, and began unbuttoning my shirt: a kiss above the button, button released, kiss again, then move down for the next. Soon her hands roamed freely over my chest, and I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders. I was about to reach for her sweater when her fingers encircled my nipples and she bent her head to them. I jerked involuntarily at the tickle, but regained my balance quickly and closed my eyes to enjoy her touch. Tilly pushed me back and massaged my torso while tracing its striations with her tongue. I stroked her silky hair, delighting in its softness and the way it seemed to blend into the cashmere on her back. An overwhelming warmth came over me, filling my body with honey. I worshiped her face, so delicately shaded and highlighted in the dim room, inscribing her visage indelibly in my mind. I would call that memory up at every spare moment, I knew. I eased forward and put my lips to her cheek, prompting her to turn her head to take my warm breath into her once again. Her breasts were firm and supple on my chest. I lifted a hand to brush the side of one, and my other hand targeted her ass. I slid it up her skirt and cupped a silky cheek tightly. Tilly groaned and lifted her head, exposing her neck to my dancing tongue and her breast to my palm. Her nipples were indeed stiffening, and I pushed against the roundness under my fingers while inhaling deep tastes of lavender. When she slipped the sweater quickly over her head, I laughed at the completeness of the effect: her lacy bra was light purple to go with her scent. I sat up and lifted her skirt to find the matching hue masking her mound. Tilly slapped my hand away and giggled, then turned around and teased the hem up her thighs until it bunched around her waist. I bent to kiss the lavender cheeks while releasing the button of the garment, unzipping it, and bringing it down and off her legs. "No denim allowed," Tilly said, standing over me. With a grin I straightened beside her and held my arms wide, inviting her to enforce her rule. Her fingers pulled my button-fly apart and she eased my jeans to my ankles by crouching down onto her knees. My erection was poorly disguised in my boxers, and she pulled the opening apart like curtains, pursed her lips, and blew over the hot skin within. She crawled forward until her encased breasts pushed against my thighs and shot her tongue past the fabric. I groaned at the moist contact, a sensation nearly forgotten. She kissed the shaft and ran her tongue up to my head before putting her lips to my cock again. Kiss; kiss again; one more, then holding my soft head lightly between her teeth, tongue curled around its base. I was tempted to put my hand behind her head and urge her further, but I resisted. It wasn't a moment, though, before she eased forward of her own volition, sucking tenderly until she filled her mouth. After two or three strokes, I did rest my hands on her head, and she began rocking back and forth more quickly. "Feels so good, babe," I growled. "So very good, mmmmmm." I could feel my orgasm welling between my legs, the tell-tale tightening of the tendons in the inner thigh. "Mmmmmmm, ooooh, God, won't be long--" Tilly left my cock and wrapped her fingers around it. "Not yet, don't cum yet, darling." She looked up at me, stroking gently and licking her lips. "Tell me how much you want it. Talk to me." I forced my mouth to form words, my tongue seemingly swollen from the sexual tension. "I want to cum with you. I want to lick you all over, and glide my fingers into your every crevice and fold, and pinch your nipples with my teeth until you're overcome. I want to suck your nipples, and suck your clit until you're a bath of cum, and then you'll take me back into your mouth until I cum on your tongue, on your face, on your tits, and then rub it all in." "I want to cum with you," Tilly echoed. "I want you to eat my pussy until your face is soaked, and finger- fuck me while you're nibbling my clit, and I'll be sucking your cock until it explodes on me, and tasting your jism, and helping you rub your juice all over my hot tits. Do you like the way I said that?" she asked, feeling my rigidity jump in her grasp on the words "fuck," "cock," and "tits." "You should have your mouth washed out, young lady," I laughed. "Wash it for me, stud," Tilly replied, standing and forcing her tongue into my mouth. I pushed the organ back and caressed her lips with my own, sliding my tongue over the wet textures. Her warm flesh pressed against me, and I reached around to release her bra, sliding my hands once again to the sides of her tits, leaning back slightly to get to the nipples. I kneaded her mounds roughly, lifting, turning, pulling on them like enormous joy-sticks. My prick pushed into her waist just above her navel, and I arched my back to put its tip into the indention. That ended the kiss, as Tilly started laughing. "It's a little lower," she mocked, holding my cock and swirling it in a circle around her belly button. Then she stepped back and dropped the bra to the floor. She pulled her hair up and stood in a lewd pose, playing the model, forcing her tits out in all their glory. I took the chance to drop to my knees before her purple waist, steering her around to lie back on the bed. Tilly guessed the proper position and held her legs apart with her ass at the edge of the mattress. I gazed for a moment, enraptured, before licking my way along her thighs to their crest. The panties evidenced her arousal, and I tasted the sweet juices from the fabric before pulling it away. Her pussy was sparsely furred with deep brown hair, and I sent a breeze through her thatch before touching it. Her muscles tightened when my lips met her labia, and they clenched further when I extended my tongue between them. I put a long, narrow stroke from end to end, following with a broad lap along each lip. With my mouth wide open, I covered the top of her cunt, sending my tongue in search of her clit. Closing my jaw, I held her button gently in a vise of lip-covered teeth. I sucked at the seal, and heard a deep groan resounding in Tilly's chest. I released, then continued a cat's lapping while fingering her puffy folds. Her legs raised above her and she grasped her ankles, exposing herself even more, an unspoken encouragement and plea. I framed her twat with my hands on her ass, holding her open with my index fingers as my tongue dipped deeper into her juicy pink orifice. I pushed my nose in and slid it upwards, coating my face in pale white fluid. I tapped her clit again and then rifled my tongue over her sex, zipping up and down, back and forth, frenzied like a shark following chum. "Oh, God, oh shit, oh damngoddamngodDAMNit OOOOhhhhhh!" Tilly forced the words out as her body wracked in orgasm. I eased off for a few seconds, then tapped her clit with my tongue: her arms and legs flopped onto the bed and her hands clenched in the comforter. Another, smaller orgasm tweaked her nerves before she took several deep breaths. I slid up onto the bed and ran my lips over her forehead, cheeks, and chin. "I love you," I whispered. She smiled and kissed me back. "I love you too." We slid up to the head of the bed and cuddled for a while, fondling each other's nipples and intertwining our legs. Drops of pre-cum perched precariously on my cock and dripped to my stomach now and then, and Tilly eventually smeared them onto her finger and began swirling them over my rigid staff. Soon my cock was completely smeared with the sticky moistness, and Tilly put her hand around it. With only a few strokes, I was on the verge of coming. She sensed my condition and enveloped me with her mouth. I murmured nonsense syllables as she stroked me with her tongue, and before I could clamp down, I was pumping into her throat. Tilly pulled back and swallowed as the last spasms decorated her chest with creamy designs. I caught my breath watching her play with the viscous fluid, running it along her cleavage, spreading it onto her tits, spotting it onto her nipples. I smiled and licked a bead onto my tongue and deposited it onto hers with a long kiss. I retrieved some additional moisture from her pussy and tweaked her nipples, lubricated with our combined juices. Tilly never let me soften completely: her hands were on my cock as soon as I had attacked her nubbins, and she stroked me expertly to erection, albeit a bit spongier than before. Our mouths played joyfully, working in unison as though we had years of familiarity. My usual let-down after orgasm was bypassed, circumvented by the utter inhibition, intense culmination, and rapid resumption of our lovemaking. Both of us were flushed with desire and given over wholly to the other. I was completely at ease, and eagerly reached for her in mutual masturbation. Tilly moved to face me, spreading my legs with hers so that our limbs formed a diamond. Then she scooted forward until our groins were nearly touching. I could feel her heat, and I placed my fingers over her open pussy as she took my cock. I eased my digits into her and slowly fucked her as she jacked me, gazing at each other with broad smiles of contentment. "Screw me, honey," Tilly said. "Put those fingers in me, grind my pussy, make her wetter and hotter for you." "Pull my cock," I responded. "Play me like a clarinet, run me like a gearshift, get me hard to plunge into you like you know you want it." "I want it all right, I want it deep, I want it all, I want YOU." With that, she grasped me and sat up against my chest, aiming my cock at her opening. She slid me along her wet slit a few times, then eased down until her pussy was rubbing my balls. "She's got a ticket to ri-ide," I hummed. "She's got a ticket to ri-i-ide, she's got a ticket to ride, and she don't care!" I tried to thrust upwards, but Tilly was in control, eagerly bouncing for a while, then grinding against me. She had one hand on her clit and the other around my balls, rolling them along her ass and squeezing them rhythmically. I put my hands to her hanging tits and sucked at her nipples, ringing them with saliva and sucking them dry, tasting our sweet and salty cum. Our gasps filled the room, and the air was thick with our musky odors. Tilly felt my orgasm coming and pushed on my perineum to hold it back, clenching her pussy on my hardon. I squeezed the flesh in my hands, pulled at the nipple between my teeth, and with a yelp, she fell forward, my cum releasing into her as her own orgasm rippled down her spine. We clenched in a tight embrace, groaning hoarse words of lust. I caressed her shoulders as Tilly gathered her strength. We laved the skin closest to our mouths as we spiraled back to time and place. When I had softened and fallen from within her, Tilly slid to my side and laid her head on my bicep, dozing with a smile. I put a finger to her chin and raised her face to my sight. Her eyes opened and she puckered her lips. I planted a kiss on them and sat up to turn down the sheets. Tilly wriggled under the bedclothes and wearily gestured me in. "Hold me," she whispered, and curled into my chest. As I laid with Tilly, arms wrapped about her like Christmas package ribbon, matching her soft, deep breaths, I blessed the swelling in my heart, blessed the love sealed securely within. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* Did you like this? Would you like to see more? I enjoy writing erotica, but without some encouragement from my readers, it sometimes seems a wasted effort. Authors need feedback to improve their writing and to maintain their enthusiasm. How about a short message on Gary and Heather's BBS expressing your reaction? (If you've not called this wonderful board, you're missing one of the best in the country.) Thanks in advance. --- "Woody" OWNGROWN EROTICA from Gary & Heather's BBS, Atlanta 404/244-7059