Victorian Obsession

Victoria wasn't just obsessive about me; she was obsessive about everything! She always seemed to have rules for how things should be done, but if you have a good memory for details and can follow instructions you might enjoy Victoria.

We'd exchanged letters and this might have given me a clue, because each envelope she sent had tape carefully stuck to the middle and ends of the flap so it could not have been tampered with. When we talked on the phone she always wanted to be called back at a precise interval, and coached me with code words in case I was ever being forced to call her by some person or persons unknown. I must have passed the test, thanking her for the health information she sent and listening politely to her latest conspiracy theory, because she invited me to visit her. The small house had an overgrown yard, peeling paint, and a gutter hanging loose from the roof.

When she opened the door I was totally surprised by Victoria: she was small, quite good looking except for very thick glasses, and had long hair that reached past her waist. The big surprise was her clothing: a white t-shirt and plain white panties and nothing else except for white ankle socks! I could see there was no bra, though in truth her small breasts didn't need any support. I learned that at home this was her normal style and it was unchanging. In clothes as in other matters she liked constancy, so apparently when Sears had a sale she bought twelve t-shirts, twelve pairs of panties, and twelve pairs of socks, all identical, white.

When we ate there was another pattern revealed: apparently macaroni and cheese was a favorite and was made from a box retrieved from a case containing some fifteen other servings. Like everything else Victoria bought, each packet had a small sticker with the place and date of purchase and the price paid. To follow the macaroni Victoria suggested we share an apple. First she put on a pair of latex gloves, and then the apple was washed with soap and scrubbed with a small brush. After thorough rinsing it was peeled and cored. Victoria believed that this particular peeler was the definitive, perfect design and showed me a drawer holding five identical copies, stocked in case the maker "improved" the device. Stickers showed all were bought at the same time.

Conversation, or maybe just listening on my part, was quite pleasant and then with no warning Victoria asked if I'd like to have sex with her. This was before even touching or kissing her! To add to the strangeness of the situation Victoria made me promise two things: first that if we started being intimate I would continue and not try to leave and second that I would stay all night with her. Somehow I got the image of some previous lover walking out and slamming the door! I wondered what had frightened him!

Now Victoria seemed ready to be kissed, though she kept her lips closed. I asked if we were going to her bedroom, but was told that the sofa bed in the sitting room would be more suitable. The sitting room was almost filled with shelves holding Victoria's "research". This mostly consisted of stacks and boxes of magazines, newspaper cuttings, and leaflets waiting to be sorted. There was just room to unfold the bed, but more was required since the mattress was very thin. The mattress was lifted off and a sheet of plywood maneuvered from behind the shelves and put on the springs. We put the mattress back in place, and then sheets, pillows and blanket made up the bed. You might think this was not too romantic, but seeing Victoria's breasts against her t-shirt and looking at her small buttocks as she bent over the bed was definitely keeping my interest.

More rules: Victoria inspected my fingernails for length and cleanliness, and had me scrub my hands anyway. She explained that I was allowed to touch her, but if I touched myself again I should need to wash hands once more. I took off the t-shirt and she laid on the bed and let me finger and kiss her nipples which became very erect. I slid a hand into her panties and pulled them down a little to reveal a thick tuft of dark hair in her crotch. Victoria did not believe in shaving or trimming so she also had hair in her armpits and on her legs, but fortunately I find that very attractive in a woman. Gradually I worked my fingers over her belly and towards her pussy. I started to lower my head to lick her navel and then to go lower, but apparently the waist was the limit for oral contact, just as only her hands would touch my penis. She was very attentive to my cock, through my underpants, and tenderly caressed my balls.

She reached across to a shelf and produced a box of assorted condoms, bought six months before, I noted, and only one had been used. I wondered if this had been with the guy who walked out?

Now Victoria slid her panties off and neatly folded them, along with the t-shirt and socks. From another box she took a foil-wrapped spermicide pellet and handed it to me. She explained that she wanted this protection in addition to the condom and to the diaphragm she wore. In a very businesslike way she explained she wanted me to insert the wax pellet into her vagina, and she insisted on my using my longest, middle finger. I was about to lick that finger but she stopped me and took it in her mouth to prevent any "contamination"! She then laid back on the bed in the most erotic position I've ever seen: She had her arms straight out from her shoulders and then the forearms were pointing up. Her hips also bent in a similar fashion, she could get her legs flat on the bed and her knees bent so her thighs were in line. This opened her vagina, which was very wet. I opened the lips with my fingers and slowly pushed the pellet into her as far as my finger would reach. Her eyes were closed, but she smiled happily as she felt me in her.

"We must wait four minutes for the wax to melt." Victoria said, and to my surprise pulled a kitchen timer from beneath the pillow and set the time! She seemed anxious to keep me erect and excited for she sat up and ran her slim fingers round the head of my penis. At one point she took a strand of her long hair and wrapped it round my cock. I almost came as the excitement built! Now she opened the condom packet and carefully unrolled the latex on my penis, leaving a space at the tip that I hoped I should be filling with sperm.

All this time I was also fondling her breasts and feeling the heat from her crotch. At last the timer bell rang and Victoria laid back again in her "open" position for me to enter her. But not immediately! She instructed me to finger her a little more and then to put just a little of my penis into her hot vagina. I got the knob inserted and I felt her tense. "Now pull out and touch me some more," she instructed me. In a moment she was ready for more cock, another inch this time, and again she tensed and wanted it pulled out. Every time I fingered her between insertions her breathing got heavier and she wriggled as I pushed into her once more. After about four or five times she asked me to push all the way into her, but again was very explicit: push slightly to the left as I entered her, then roll a bit to the right so that my pubic hair brushed her clitoris, and then pull back from the right. I could feel my circular thrusts building up and Victoria's breath was almost gasping. With a quick move she brought her legs close together so that my penis was squeezing between her thighs and I had to push down directly against her clitoris to maintain penetration. I fingered and pinched her nipples and felt her hands pulling my buttocks towards her as she cried out in a noisy orgasm. I needed just a few more thrusts, but she wriggled and moaned as if in pain as I tried to get just that fraction of an inch further into her. Then I exploded. Whether it was the detailed preparations, or the tightness of her vagina, I don't know, but it was one of the best orgasms I can ever remember having when wearing a condom.

After we dealt with the condom and washed hands again it was time to sleep: socks, panties and t-shirt went back on, and I wore my underpants. Victoria was very sweet, cuddling against me and letting me have a hand between her thighs or a hand on her breasts.

In the morning the sofa bed was folded again and I went home feeling strangely calm and peaceful. A few days later I got a call from Victoria on my answering machine, "Could I give her a hand with her sofa bed." You know I could, and I did. The routine was exactly as before, except that in the morning Victoria asked if we could have sex again, and we could and we did. Again the same routine: no deep kissing, no oral-genital contact, no touching the anal area. Still very enjoyable!

On my third visit, the only change was that the box of assorted condoms had been replaced by a two-dozen package: pink, medium, extra texture. I wasn't insulted by the size (I'm only just over six inches), and I was encouraged by the quantity Victoria bought, but I did have some regret that we hadn't tried the black condom with extra "tickler" appendages that I'd seen in the sampler box!

There were still six or seven of the pink, medium condoms left in the box when something changed. Victoria's phone calls were now just about conspiracies, not about the sofa bed. After a while even those calls stopped, though I got an occasional, sealed, package about health risks or diet leaflets. After some thought I decided that this quiet ending might be for the best, since I think if she were upset or felt slighted, Victoria could systematically have made a lot of trouble.

So that's my story of dealing with obsession, and the only effect that seems to remain is that I feel ready for sex whenever I hear a kitchen timer bell!