Erotic Adventures of David Farrell

I'd recently returned from active duty in he Middle East. Seven years in that part of the world gives one a definite positive slant on what we Americans have here in the United States. At twenty-five I was looking forward to what politicians like to call "The American Dream", and my dream included a girl I'd known since high school. Well, to make sad story short, Rachel gave me my walking papers on my first night home. I was pretty shook up and spent a week licking my wounds and feeling sorry for myself. Then one morning I woke up, said "To Hell with it!" and decided my seven year old Mustang needed to go for a long drive. The car was completely paid for now and had barely been broken-in.

When I headed down Interstate 5 toward California, I had no specific destination in mind, but late afternoon found me in central Oregon. I'd been driving since ten o'clock that morning and was pretty bushed, so I checked-in at a Holiday Inn just north of Eugene. By the time I finished showering, it was nearly six p.m., and before hitting the sack, I drove down the street a few blocks for something to eat. As I pulled into the restaurant parking lot I noticed an expensive car with the hood up and an attractive woman peering disgustedly at the engine. I parked nearby and walked over, saying, "Problems, huh!"

She glanced up, smiled and said, "Good guess! Know anything about cars?"

"Not much," I said. "Just enough to point 'em down the road and steer." Matching her posture, I leaned my elbows on the car and looked at her across the engine. She was one of those women who use no discernible make-up, yet manage to look feminine, soft and extremely sexy. She wore a sky blue blouse made of a satin-like material. Her large, wide set eyes were of an almost identical hue as the blouse. There was a smudge of engine grease on her cheek. This and the fact that her long black hair was secured in a make-shift pony tail combined to give her an almost teenage appearance. Although she appeared to be young, something about her attitude made me think she was probably in her late twenties. Her gaze caught mine in such a way as to give me the feeling that she could see right into my mind and know my every thought.

I saw something erotic in her gaze. Of course that could have just been my thoughts reflecting back at me; I'm sure my attraction for her was written all over my face. "What happened?" I asked.

As she answered, she moved around to my side and leaned on the car, her shoulder touching my arm as we peered down at the dead engine. "I was headed home and the engine began to sputter, so I pulled in here and shut it off." It was then that I became aware of her fragrance. It wasn't a perfume, exactly, at least not one I was familiar with, but a scent you couldn't quite get enough of. She stood and said, "I've been trying to start it, and now I think I've run the battery down."

"Wish I could help, but I really don't know anything about cars." I turned toward her. As she stood beside me, the top of her head came just to my eyes. I inhaled her scent deeply. There was something about her smell that really turned me on. I judged her to be two or three years my senior, and I wondered if she would consider me too young for her. But I figured what the hell. "Can I take you anywhere, help you find a mechanic or something?" I offered.

She turned to face me and gave me another of those penetrating looks. By her expression, I could tell that she knew I was inhaling her scent; that she knew I wanted to touch her, taste her, devour her. After a moment, without breaking eye contact, she said, "No, the car's new. I'll call the dealer tomorrow and let them take care of it."

Not wanting to give up, I suggested, "I could drive you home."

She studied my face a moment. "I don't want to impose. Besides, I live all the way on the other side of town. I can call a taxi."

"It wouldn't be an imposition," I really did need to get some rest, but I was hooked on her scent. Usually, when I come across an attractive woman, it's something about how she looks or walks that gets under my skin; that makes me say to myself: ^I want some of that.^ But this time it was her scent. Not that she wasn't a beautiful woman. She was stunning, but her scent was like an addiction I just couldn't get enough of it. A slight breeze, rustled my shirt against my skin, and I realized my nipples were erect and super-sensitive. "I was just going to get something to eat here and then spend a boring evening watching television. How about you join me for dinner, and I'll drive you home?"

She took a moment to look me up and down as though undressing me with her eyes. Finally, she stepped forward and laid her hand on my chest. It just so happened that my erect nipple was underneath her hand and her long fingers did a slight caress, sending a ripple through me, and now my nipples were not the only part becoming erect. Thank goodness for my tight Jockey shorts and loose pleated trousers. "I have a better idea," she said. "Drive me home and I'll make dinner." Then, as an added incentive, as if I needed one, "I also have a bottle of Petite Syrah, just waiting to be appreciated."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!"

"You've got a deal!" Then I thought, ^That was too easy! I don't know this woman. What am I getting myself into? Maybe I should chuck it all and just go.^ But, instead, I held out my hand and said, "I'm David Farrell, by the way."

She took my hand and gave it a sensual squeeze, kind of caressing my palm, "Hi David. Evelyn Larkin. Eve to my friends."

Eve got a bag and a briefcase from her car and we headed across town. It was a complicated route to her house, but she told me when to change lanes and where to turn. In between Eve's directions, I found out that she worked as a psychologist and held a teaching position at the University. She also mentioned that she was performing some experiments about which she was writing a book. She didn't give any details about the project, but I got the feeling she was very much into it.

We had crossed town and driven a couple miles into the wooded countryside where large fir and cedar lined both sides of the road. Finally, Eve had me turn off the main road onto a steep, brick-paved driveway. We drove a few hundred feet before breaking into a clearing containing an enormous split-level house built of brick and some kind of dark natural stone.

"Impressive! You can afford this on a teacher's salary?" The question came out automatically.

"Not exactly!" Eve gave a quick laugh. "I had a little help inherited some money." Eve had taken something from her purse and when she pointed it at the house, one of the four garage doors opened. "You can park in there."

"That's okay. It'll be fine out here."

"No! Park in the garage!" It was definitely an order. Then she softened her voice. "Please!"

I pulled into the open garage and the door rolled down and clicked with a finality that somehow gave me a sense of being trapped. But that trepidation didn't last long, for soon we were in her study; the walls of which were covered with ceiling-high bookshelves. After fixing me a drink from the well stocked bar and turning on some soft music, Eve excused herself to take a shower.

I browsed the bookshelves, noticing that the books were organized by topic. There was a large section on psychology and psychiatry, a section on religion and the occult, another on history, quite an extensive section on sexuality, and a fiction section mostly mystery and suspense.

A few minutes later Eve was back, hair hanging loose and wearing jeans and a man's loose fitting white dress shirt. She opened the bottle of wine she'd promised and prepared a dinner of Lasagna which she took from a large freezer and now re-baked. I offered to help, but Eve was quick and sure, so I stayed out of the way and watched her movements, wondering if she made love with the same focus and determination, as she did everything else. The wine was great and I'd finished two glasses by the time we sat down to eat. The Lasagna was delicious.

After dinner we moved to the living room, where Eve prepared drinks, sat next to me on the couch, then leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Her hand was on my chest again, doing the little caress that she had done earlier at the parking lot. She broke the kiss but remained close enough so her moist breath touched my face when she spoke, "Thank you, David, for bringing me home. I really appreciate it."

And there was that wonderful fragrance again. I almost asked her what she wore that smelled so sexy. Instead, I said, "Thank YOU for the great lasagna and wine." and pulled her in close and kiss her. It was a longer kiss, and Eve opened her lips slightly, inviting my tongue to explore. She tasted as delicious as she smelled.

Eve pulled back and looked deeply into my eyes. Speaking suggestively, "I would offer to show you my etchings, but I don't have any. Would you like to see more of the house? Maybe the room where I do my experiments?"

I thought, ^No, I want to stay right here and see where this goes.^ But because I'm a pushover for a beautiful woman, I said, "Okay, lead the way."

Eve took my hand and led me down a hall at the end of which was a large double door. There she stopped, began removing her shoes and said, "Please remove your shoes too; the floor in there is fragile."

We left our shoes by the door and entered the large room perhaps 15 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The entire floor was covered by a very thick pad; there were no windows and the walls and ceiling were painted white. The furniture and equipment, some of which I didn't recognize, was arranged into four groups, one grouping in each corner. The center of the room was open, and, there, I noticed a circle and some open straps attached to the floor. I stood a moment trying to identify the kind of activities that might go on in this room. It didn't make sense to me. Finally I said, "Okay, I'll bite! Just what kind of experiments do you do in this room?"

Eve smiled; obviously she had expected my reaction. "The most interesting kind, of course." As she said this she embraced me from behind, pressing her breasts into my back and reaching around to place one hand on each of my nipples, caressing them, sending thrills down to my groin. "I'm a sexual psychologist. I use this room to study human sexual behavior experiments, if you like." Then taking each of my already erect nipples between thumb and forefinger she squeezed and rolled them so hard my knees almost buckled. Then she added, "Sometimes I use the room for sexual exploration, as well." Then, very quietly, her voice almost a whisper, "Would you like to do some exploration, David?"

As I said before, I'm a pushover for a beautiful woman. I turned, put my arms around her, kissed her and said, "With you? You name it; I'll do it."

Eve smiled a devilish smile I thought, and said, "Wonderful! I'm so glad you said it that way, David, because, I must be in control. You have do exactly as I say." She waited for my response, when none came, she continued with a little more demand in her voice, "David, will you follow my instructions exactly?"

I thought, ^Am I getting in over my head? Is it possible that Eve with the intoxicating scent is some sort of deranged sadist, or worse?^ I took a deep breath, crossed my fingers and said, "Okay! Yes!"

"Very good David!" Eve stood back from me, pointed at the floor and ordered, "Now, remove your shirt and lie down on you back with your head on that small circle and your feet pointing toward the door."

I removed my shirt and looked at the floor where Eve was pointing, realizing immediately that she planned to strap me to the floor. There was a strap for my neck, one for each wrist and one for each ankle. I love sex, but giving up all control was a scary idea. She would have me completely immobilized and entirely at her mercy. It occurred to me then that control had always been the part of sex that most turned me on. The act of caressing and stroking a woman, bringing her near orgasm, but not quite, over and over again was very important to me. I wondered, ^Could sex still be as good if I relinquished that power?^

When I didn't move to comply, Eve raised her voice slightly and sternly gave the order again, "Do it now, David, don't make me wait."

I figured I'd gone this far, I might as well go all the way. I followed her instructions and allowed Eve to secure the five straps and place a ball gag in my mouth. When she finished, she surveyed my situation and said, "You look apprehensive, David. Don't be, you'll like what I have in store for you." Then she stood and left the room without another word.

I felt a bit ridiculous, to say the least. Here I was naked from the waist up with some sort of gag in my mouth, my hands anchored to the floor near my hips, my feet anchored and spread 18 inches apart, and my neck strapped to disallow raising my head more than half an inch from the floor. The ridiculousness of my situation spawned absurd imaginings. Torture, murder and other deranged activities flashed through my mind as my possible fate. Images from Poe's "The Pit and the Pendulum" came to mind and I searched the ceiling for any type of opening from which a bladed pendulum might appear and begin it's journey downward to slice into my flesh. I could see no such opening or trap door. Even though I realized such imaginings were childish, panic took over and I struggled to free myself, soon discovering that I could move no more than an inch or two in any direction.

^What kind of person have I gotten mixed up with? Is it possible that Eve with the intoxicating scent is some sort of deranged sadist?^ Realizing that struggling against my bonds would get me nothing but chafed wrists and ankles, I took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. After all, maybe all she had in mind was sex. As I relaxed a bit I came to realize that, regardless of the restraints and my awkward position, I was surprisingly comfortable. The floor, covered with a thick foam, was almost like lying on a firm mattress.

Hearing the click of a latch, I turned my eyes down toward the door just as it opened, and Eve stepped through. Her long black hair, twisted into a tight braid, was held on top of her head with a black comb of some sort. She was totally nude and my attention was drawn first to her B-cup breasts with swollen areolas topped with erect pink nipples, and down across her flawless abdomen to her bald pubis. Then I was startled by the object she was holding in her hand a knife. A long kitchen knife with a very sharp point. The cutting edge, too, looked razor sharp.

Eve closed the door and when she turned back she looked directly into my eyes. While holding my gaze, she licked the palm of her left hand and rubbed it over her right breast, tweaking the nipple between forefinger and thumb. Her half-lidded eyes revealed the pleasure she felt from her self-manipulation. With eyes still locked on mine, she opened her mouth and wet her full lips with a pink tongue. It was obvious that she was doing all this as a tease, trying to excite me sexually. It was working, even with the fear I felt because of the knife in her hand. She must have been very pleased with her performance, because when her eyes moved to manhood and saw it straining against the confinement of my pants, her lips formed a self-satisfied smile.

My eyes were glued to her every move as she knelt down to stroke me through my trousers. When she placed the knife near my crotch, I instinctively shrank from her touch. Noticing my panic Eve smiled and said. "Don't worry, David. I'm only going use the knife to remove your clothes. All the pain I have in mind for you is pleasurable. Just try to relax and enjoy it." With that she began a kind of ritualistic foreplay by cutting my clothes from my body. After removing my belt and tossing it aside, she cut my pants from the waist down each leg and removed them. Next came my Jockey shorts allowing my penis to spring free and stand at attention.

Eve laid the knife aside and took my penis in hand and gave it a few slow strokes. When she leaned closer, I thought she was going to take me into her mouth, but instead she let a string of saliva dribble down to the head. Using both hands she worked the saliva over the entire area, continuing to add saliva, until every inch of my genitalia was slick and wet. Finally, releasing me, she sat back and spread her thighs revealing the clear liquid already seeping from her. She put both hands between her legs, caressing slowly and deliberately, picking up the leaking moisture and smearing it on her thighs, abdomen and breasts.

Eve caressed herself this way for awhile, all the time looking directly into my eyes. My penis was so swollen I feared it would burst. I watched her every move with growing passion, wanting so much to touch her, taste her, but I could only smell her heat. I realized then that the scent I had picked up in the restaurant parking lot was the smell of sex. I had been enjoying the scent of a sexually aroused female mixed with the subtle fragrance of jasmine. Now, here in this room, the sexual element emanating from her body was much more powerful and earthy. Apparently Eve had discovered a way to manufacture this as a perfume. ^It ought to make millions,^ I thought.

From the expression on her face, I could see that she was enjoying her own manipulations, as well as my reaction to what she was doing. The pleasure that was running through her body was easy to read in the open lips and the half-mast eyelids. When she stopped, she wiped both hands on her breasts, then while looking directly into my eyes, she held them to her nose and inhaled deeply. "Want to smell?" she purred and brought her hand to my face. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with her essence. Her hands were still wet, and she rubbed the remaining moisture over my face and nostrils. If she kept this up I was sure I would have a spontaneous orgasm, just from her closeness and the scent of her sex. I think she sensed that I was close to ejaculating, for she reached over and pinched my left nipple hard. The pain was intense, and I attempted to twist away. A cold look came across her face and she ordered, "Don't you dare come, until I tell you."

Finally she leaned in close and removed the ball gag. "Why are you doing this?" I blurted, immediately. "You don't need to tie me down. You're the most desirable woman I've ever known. I'd do anything you ask."

Eve leaned on her elbow, her face only a couple inches from mine. I could feel her breath on my face. I shuddered when she leaned closer and ran her moist tongue slowly inside my ear. "It's my sexual preference," she whispered breathily into my ear. "I like my sex partners, helpless." Then she moved again and licked wetly across my lips. "Besides most men love to be tied up. You'll see. Now shut up and enjoy."

With that she moved back to my penis which was downright drenched with precum. Using her index finger, Eve collected an abundant amount of the clear liquid, smeared it on her lips, and licked it off seeming to relish the taste and feel. Then letting another long string of saliva drool onto my penis, she began stroking very slowly, using both hands. One hand moved up and down the shaft while the other worried the head with a variety of strokes. Occasionally she would take me in her mouth and apply a little suction. Each time I approached the point of no return, Eve would sit back, lock eyes with me and stroke her breasts or her erect clitoris.

Three times she brought me close to orgasm, before abruptly abandoning my penis and moving to my chest, teasing and tweaking my nipples, using fingers, lips, tongue and teeth. By this time I was bordering on hysteria, fairly trembling with my need. I desperately required release, but Eve was not going to allow it. She stopped touching me and sat nearby, again, caressing her breasts, wetting them from time to time, and pulling on her nipples, all the while looking directly into my eyes. Again she brought her moist hand to my face, locked eyes with me, and allowed me to inhale the aroma.