Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Author's Note: some of you may not remember a time when the main way to post stories to the internet was something called "newsgroups." All of my stories were written for one of the news groups that featured erotic stories. I had many supportive fans who followed my work, and some wrote followup stories based on the characters I created. I also wrote an essay called "Sue's Overture", which explained more about who I was. All of this history is briefly referenced in the story you are about to read. "Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire" was sparked by the one unkind troll who pestered me with ugly emails for a while. It is a fantasy about how I might have helped him to reform his wicked ways.

*

Bob felt smug as he laced up his running shoes.

Today, like every day, he was going out for a short jog around the block. As he stepped out of his front door this hot and sunny afternoon, he was thinking about "Susan," and about the scandalous note that he had posted on a sex-stories newsgroup. He was actually feeling a twinge of guilt about making up all that bullshit he had written. It was just his way to get some attention, to provoke some controversy. But now his conscience was beginning to nag, telling him that he had been naughty, that telling lies on the internet about real people was wrong and mean-spirited. Perversely though, being the "bad boy" made him feel bigger, more powerful, and it was a kinky sort of sexual turn-on for him. Just thinking about it made his cock harden in his tight jogging shorts, and his little nipples also got hard and showed through his T-shirt as he started to work up a sweat within a block of his house.

A hundred feet in front of him was another jogger, a woman with long red tresses that flowed and bounced over her back. He was already aroused from thinking about what he had done to "Susan," and this woman appeared so strong and beautiful from the back.... "What the hell," he thought, "I might as well follow her for a while. I need to exercise my imagination as well as my other muscles."

As he get closer to her, he could see that she was even more sweaty than he was. It must have been 85 degrees at that point, and humid too. Her white tee shirt was soaked, and amongst the strands of her fire-red hair that were stuck to her back, he could see that she showed no sign of wearing a bra. And her skin-tight bicycling shorts smoothly followed her pumping, muscular flesh, showing no evidence of panties. "Mmmmm," he mused, "I'd like to get to know her, but fat chance of that. I might as well enjoy the view. Later tonight maybe I'll get into a sexy chat room and maybe I can whack off, talking to other women, but visualizing this broad."

After a mile of viewing the redhead's back and especially her clenching ass cheeks, he crossed the street and increased his speed so that he pulled up even with her. Sneaking quick glances to the side, he couldd now see her heaving, swaying breasts, and she certainly wasn't wearing anything under her thin shirt. It was like one of those wet T-shirt contests. He could see her big nipples popping out from the heaving breasts. His glances gradually became longer. "What the hell," he argued with himself, "I'll never see her again, so why not stare. After all, if she wasn't trying to attract my attention, she should have worn less revealing clothes for her jog!"

So he examined her swaying tits and her large nipples as they bumped and jostled inside the sticky transparent shirt. He could see that the nipples were very dark and red, and that they stuck out like gumdrops. Looking up at her face, he observed she was looking straight ahead, not paying attention to his attention. Her face was beautiful and glamorous, only partly hidden behind reflective sunglasses. Strands of that exotic red hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks and the sweat was pouring down her face, dripping on to her pneumatically bouncing breasts. Her tight pants revealed the pronounced mound of her sex, which appeared and disappeared behind her pumping thighs. "Maybe it's my imagination, but it sure looks like I can see a fold of the super-tight Lycra creasing vertically through the center of her mound," he mused. "Perhaps her cunt is shaved? I wonder, but even getting red cunt hair stuck in my teeth sounds like a trip right now."

By this time, he had been jogging for 4 or 5 miles, and he was surprised to discover that he was back on his own street. He had not been paying attention to his route at all, since his mind had been fully occupied with the jogger, her tits, and his fantasies. As he neared his house, he wondered, "Should I continue following this beautiful woman, or should I call it quits? I know I can always find some horny bitch in a chat room, so I know I can get off if I stop now."

But as he almost reached his driveway, the jogger absolutely surprised him by turning up onto his path and stopping right at his door. Leaning back against the frame, she struck a stunningly sexy pose, with one hand raking up through her wet hair, and brought her other hand up to her face, with her first finger in front of her luscious lips, indicating that she wished to dispense with talk.

"That's cool with me," raced through his libido-soaked mind. He strutted up the steps to stand right in front of her, breathless from both the running and the shock of the events that were transpiring. She was brushing her back up and down against the door frame, and the knob was right behind her, pressed into her ass.

"Damn. My neighbors are way too nosy. We better get indoors fast," he decided. "Right away! My erection has been straining at my jogging shorts since I first stepped out onto the street 30 minutes ago. It's so hard it's aching. I bet its shape is clearly outlined through this wet nylon."

His silent friend had let her gaze drop down and she was now staring straight into his groin, which was both a turn on, but also somewhat disquieting. He reached out to slide his hand around her moist waist, squeezing it behind her firm derriere so that he could grasp the doorknob.

As he turned the knob, the door popped open, and they both tumbled inward. As he reached out to embrace her, her slick body slid out of his grasp, and she pranced away, into the dining room. He gave chase, rather enjoying the tease, but really ready for more direct action. But she stayed just out of his reach as he pursued her through all the rooms of his house. She was fast and wily, and anticipated his zigs and zags perfectly. She reminded him of a cat.

Finally the chase led them both into the master bedroom, which was a mess. He hadn't been entertaining his women friends there recently, so dirty clothes were piled up everywhere. But he didn't care too much, for this was a perfect place for the chase to end up. His sheets were clean, at least for the time being.

He stood in the doorway, and knew that she had no way to escape. She climbed up onto his bed, and stood in its center of the bed, shimmying her body in the most seductive dance he could ever imagine. After making him breathless again, she pointed down at the bed. He could tell from her body language that she wanted him to lie down on the bed, which he did immediately.

Crawling between her spread legs, he positioned himself with his head propped up on the pillow, and watched as she continued her feline dance, straddling his shoulders. The bottom edge of her shirt had pulled away from her body and he could see the undersides of her breasts swinging around. Her skin-tight Lycra pants hid very little, for he could clearly see the split down the middle of her cunt, and the two half-moons of her swollen lips. The only sign of pubic hair was a ridge right above her cunt that showed the texture of the bristling hair -- he was pretty sure that the rest of the area was smoothly shaved. This was all so exciting, he reached up to caress her sweaty calves and knees.

When he started to reach up higher, she wagged her finger indicating that it wasn't time yet. With that, she jumped down from the bed and grabbed one of his neck ties from the bedside stand. When she started to tie it around one of his wrists, he pulled his hand away. "This isn't what I had in mind!" he exclaimed.

She stood up straight and stared right into his eyes for at least 60 seconds, a stern and sad look on her lips. She still had her shiny sunglasses on, and he could see the dual reflections of his aroused body on the surfaces of the lenses. Then, her shoulders slumping a little, she slowly turned around and started to walk toward his bedroom door.

He couldn't stand the idea of her leaving now. "OK, OK, stop! You can tie me up, as long as you promise to get me off," he called to her.

She stopped with her back to him and then slowly, ever so slowly, turned on her heels and stared at his face again, then down to his tented shorts. She seemed to be weighing her alternatives, and as she pondered, one of her hands went down between her thighs and started to rub her cunt through the Lycra. That apparently helped her decide to stay, for she walked back over the side of his bed and resumed her task of tying his hand to one side of the headboard.

Then the other hand.

He was starting to have second thoughts about this, and tested the strength of the knots. But she stilled his experiments with another stern gaze that calmed him down.

She went to the closet and got two more ties, which she used to fasten his feet to the footboard. He was now spreadeagled, face up. "Shouldn't I have removed my clothes before she tied me?" crossed his mind at that point. "Those ties of mine she used -- those are expensive silk! I better not pull too hard and damage their material."

When he was fully bound to the bed, she again mounted the bed and straddled his head. She gripped the bottom edge of her shirt, and pulled it up over her head, revealing her wonderful breasts and the hard nuggets of those nipples that he had ogled earlier through the wet shirt. Her skin was still covered with a bountiful sheen of perspiration, and she glistened in the light from the sun streaming through the window. She was utterly magnificent, and her body couldn't stop swaying and shimmying. He licked his lips in anticipation.

Then she stepped forward until her feet were just on either side of his head. It was hard to see much now, except for the tips of her nipples that projected out enough for his eager view. Otherwise, he could see only her calves and knees rising up in pink columns, disappearing into the black lycra. And those bulging cunt lips at the juncture of her two muscular thighs. She reached down to the top of her shorts and started to roll them down over her hips, and further down her legs, toward his face.

As the black lycra came closer and closer, it became all that he could see, until the crotch of her pants was all the way down, forming a tight bridge stretched between her ankles, pulled tightly against his eyes and nose. He couldn't see anything, but the smell of her crotch was so strong now as he breathed it in. It was a wonderful mix of her vaginal juices (so sweet and arousing) and her accumulated perspiration (sour and tangy). He liked this, and began to probe into the folds of the wet material with his tongue, tasting and smelling the pungent scent of this incredible red-headed cat-woman.

But it was a little hard to breathe like this, so he was relieved when she finally put one hand on the wall over his head and lifted her right foot up so that she could remove the bike shorts. When his eyes readjusted to the light, he was again staring up into her crotch, and she gradually spread her knees, thereby spreading her thighs.

Her uncovered cunt came into view, and he received another big surprise. He had expected her patch of cunt hair to be bushy and red, like the fiery mane atop her head. But it was not red, it was blond and fairly sparse. "Strange," he thought.

But he did not have much time to think, for her cunt was descending further, and the rest of her cunt (shaved, as he expected) was spreading open like a flower, revealing the hanging, purplish lips of her cunt, and then the wet pink flesh of her inner lips. The dark recess of her vagina winked open and closed as she clenched her inner muscles. Just "north" of her vagina, there was the twist of flesh hiding her piss hole, and then above that was her clitoral ridge, with a couple of rings of skin surrounding the tip of her engorged clitoris. It was a little whiter in color than the rest of her cunt, and it was even twitching slightly. He could see everything quite clearly, for she had stopped just inches above his face.

After a brief pause, she closed the gap, and he poked his tongue upward to greet her cunt. She rested both her hands on the bed just on either side of his head, above his ears. This formed a gentle trap that made it clear that he shouldn't move his head. She now began to move her crotch forward and back, dragging her wide-spread cunt over his entire face, from his chin to his forehead. He could feel the bump of her clitoris ride over all the features of his face, top to bottom.

She shifted her focus to his nose, thumbing her clitoris side-to-side over the ridge. She hadn't stopped sweating, and he could feel drops falling into his hair from her breasts, swinging above him. He had stopped paying attention to the odd taste of her mixed juices and sweat. It was all acting as an aphrodisiac for him, and he again probed upwards with his tongue, finding her open vagina as she continued to mop her clitoris onto his nose.

When she felt his tongue reach its target, she tilted her torso back a little more, so that he had full access, and could push his tongue deep. He then made his tongue long and hard and rigid. She began bouncing up and down on it, as if it were a cock. The loose outer lips were swollen and sopping wet, and they formed a cushion that kept his lips from being bruised against his teeth.

Moaning and raspy gasps were emanating from her throat, and it was obvious that her orgasm was nearing. He pushed his tongue further forward within her vagina, as if he was trying to reach that patch of blond hair from the inside. It was easy to tell when he made contact with her G-spot, for she immediately went over the top, riding his tongue and nose into a canter and then a gallop. Her moans became a series of sharp grunts and squeals. Then he felt a flow of liquid surging out of her cunt around his tongue and into his open mouth.

"OMG! Is she pissing into my mouth?" came his panicky thought. His taste buds reported differently, though. "This tastes sweet and a bit syrupy. Hmmm. I remember reading somewhere that some women actually ejaculate from having their G-spot stimulated. That must be what this is." He eagerly lapped up this wonderful nectar, thrilled to taste it for the first time.

When her orgasm finally abated, she swabbed her wet cunt up and down his face a couple more times for good measure, and then rolled off of him and stood on the floor next to the bed. She had a wonderful, satisfied look on her face.

He still felt reticent about speaking out loud, and possibly breaking the spell, so he kept silent about his thoughts: "Every woman -- and this woman so much in particular -- is so beautiful in the afterglow of an orgasm." Looking up and down her body with appreciation and anticipation, his thoughts continued: "I'm so glad that she promised to make sure that I get to cum, too. It's about time. My cock has been rock hard for maybe an hour and a half, and it is really starting to ache."

As he looked her over, he eyes again came to rest on her cunt, and again he wondered about her blond pubic hair. It looked so out of place. He had met and loved women who had dyed the hair on their head blond, but the pubic hair has always been the giveaway as to what their natural color was.

The woman could tell what he was thinking, and she decided that this was the time to reveal the truth. She reached up behind her neck and pulled upward and forward. Her incredible red hair was a wig, and as it came off and fell onto the floor, it pulled off her sunglasses as well.

He was looking up into the face of a blond woman, a woman that he knew very well from the self-description that she had posted on the newsgroup. The same woman that he was thinking about just as he went out to go jogging. The very woman that he had slandered and hurt with his bullshit little bunch of lies.

It was her, Sue.

She finally broke her silence with, "Yes, Bob, I am the person that you said in your posting was not a "real" person -- that such a sexy, lusty female could not possibly exist. That's what really pissed me off.

"I have been furious with you, you twerp! You are a total jerk to have posted that bunch of crap about me. You are too little a man to write your own fantasies, to do something positive and creative on the Internet. Instead, you spread false rumors, caring not at all for the results of your fabrications. You polluted the computer bandwidth, you spineless bastard, and your unwillingness to answer my email to you makes your crime even worse.

"So I was mad, and I still am. Now I am getting my revenge. You are still tied to the bed. You are desperate for my help to relieve your sexual needs. And ultimately, you need my help to release your bonds. I have gotten to enjoy a wonderful orgasm already, and it won't be my last this afternoon. I'll decide what to do for your needs, depending on my mood. But right now, you are mine, and I already feel the need to enjoy another orgasm. Yours will have to wait. Too fucking bad."

With that, she left the room and returned with a pair of scissors, which she used to cut away his T-shirt, and then sliced up through the legs of his pants and underwear. The feeling of the cold steel against his still-sweaty skin was at the same time scary and provocative. He didn't know much about this woman, really. He wasn't at all sure if she was above truly harming him. All he did know was that she was mad as hell. Every movement of her body proclaimed that boldly.

When she pulled the clothes away from his body, he was totally naked, vulnerable and exposed. In spite of his frisson of fear, his little nipples were hard, and his cock was STILL rock hard.

Sue went into the bathroom and returned with a large towel soaked with warm water, thinking "This jerk may have found it sexy to lick the sweat from my body, but I would prefer to enjoy his when it's clean." She rubbed the towel over his chest. She rubbed it harder and harder, almost in a punishing fashion, until his nipples became red and extra sensitive, and his skin was pink. She more gently wiped his face, and then went back to the bathroom to freshen the towel with more hot water.

She used the towel now to clean his legs and then turned her attention to his rigid cock, which she wiped clean. Next to receive her "ministrations" were his balls, which she deliberately handled a bit roughly, just enough to make him nervous; not enough to truly hurt. She moved the towel "south" until she was cleaning his asshole and his butt cheeks. She let the coarse terrycloth rub across his anus, and she could tell that he enjoyed that. She suppressed a smile, not wanting to signal any reduction in her anger, as she thought, "I suppose that assholes love their assholes! Each time that I prod at his rectum, his cock twitches, and his thighs clench."

She teased him more, wrapping her pinky in the towel and pushing it into his butt hole an inch or so. and hooking it forwards. "I've read that men have a spot in their anus something like my G-spot," she remembered. "This is my chance to explore for that spot."

When she found it (and it is obvious when she did), she only toyed with it for a minute. After all, this was teasing, not satisfaction for him, so she wanted to leave him with plenty to think about. Back up to his cock she went, and tossing the towel to the side, planted some gentle kisses on the ridged skin of his balls, and then fluttered her tongue up from there, flicking it over the thick tubular ridge of the underside of his cock, until she reached the raised edge of his cock-head.