ł "Tilly" ł
ł ł
ł By The Woodpecker ł
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
ł The following story was authored by one of the growing ł
ł number of erotic writers that make Gary & Heather's BBS ł
ł their home. Our OWN GROWN tales of erotica are proving ł
ł to be some of the hottest, wildest, most exciting that ł
ł can be! ł
ł ł
ł Our OWN GROWN authors write with sincerity, in hopes ł
ł that you will be able to empathize with the eroticism, ł
ł joy, and sensitivity that they themselves possess. Come ł
ł and share with our family in our fantasies AND real-lifeł
ł sexual experiences! ł
ł "Tilly" ł
ł ł
ł By The Woodpecker ł
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