Copyright Oggbashan October 2019
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
I have realised that I am NEVER going to complete all my part--written stories before I die, so I have decided to upload all the incomplete works as a set so that others could mine them for plot ideas. Despite my copyright notice anyone can complete these stories or use them for ideas. All I ask is an acknowledgement that the story was inspired by oggbashan. I will try to finish some of the longer drafts and part-written sequels which are not included here. Some are no more than the start. Others are longer. This is the second part with story titles from 'f' up to 'ne'.
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Story 020
Facesitting Variations
I like being facesat as Helen's victim. She likes facesitting because it keeps me quiet and she can do things that are her interests, not mine. While we were engaged, shortly before we married, she had sat on my face once. We had gone away for a weekend together but decorously. I was camping in the grounds of the Youth Hostel in which she was staying. She had come into my small tent. There wasn't really room in the tent for both of us. I was on my back. She moved around trying to find a space to sit. She sat on my chest, spreading her heavyweight skirt.
"Nice panties, Helen," I had said as her skirt hitched up.
"They are, aren't they, John," she had replied. "They're French knickers and genuine silk except for the cotton gusset."
"They are? Aren't they expensive?"
"Yes, but they're worth it, John. They make me feel wonderful. I'll show you."
Before I knew what Helen intended she slid forward, lifting her skirt. She placed her knees beside my head. She pressed her crotch over my face. Yes, the feel of those panties was wonderful but I was far more aroused by Helen's warm slit spreading across my nose and lips. She dropped her thick lined skirt beyond and behind the top of my head trapping me in scented darkness. She pressed her body down over my face. Her hands tightened her skirt, pulling me in between her spread lower lips.
I was struggling to breathe. The full silk panties and Helen's body had sealed my mouth and nostrils completely. Although I was very aroused I was beginning to panic. If Helen didn't move soon I would suffocate. I couldn't bite her. The gusset of the panties was much thicker than I had expected and acting as a gag between my teeth. I shook my head as far as Helen's clamping thighs would allow.
She reacted as I had hoped. She lifted herself slightly, loosened the skirt hooding my head, and a hand eased the panties away from my nose and mouth. I panted under her, still blindfolded inside her skirt, but able to breathe.
"Sorry, John," I heard her say. "I should have left you an airway."
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Weeks later, after we had been married for three whole days, she admitted that she had forgotten that she had a panty liner inside those silk knickers. Her period had ended the day before but sometimes there might be spotting for a few hours. Normally she would have used a mini liner just in case, but that weekend she had forgotten to bring the small ones. She wanted to protect her expensive panties so had used what she had - a thick liner intended for full flow. That liner had gagged me effectively. Its backing was water and air tight. It was the liner that had been suffocating me.
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Our wedding had been low key and as inexpensive as we could make it. We needed as much money as possible to buy a small house. Both of us had been renting so-called studio flats. We had stayed overnight in the hotel where we had had the reception. We had to be back at work on Monday morning. Our house purchase had been delayed four weeks because of other people in the chain so we would be living in Helen's studio until then.
Because we weren't going away for a honeymoon, Helen hadn't changed out of her second-hand wedding gown. The gown had been given by one of her cousins. It had a much wider, heavier and thicker skirt than Helen would have chosen for herself. It had long tight sleeves and a small neck opening. She had to wear a large diameter multi-hooped petticoat, a bustle at the back for the train and several layers of netting to spread the skirt enough so she could walk in it. In our hotel room she had wanted me to arouse her by cunnilingus. I had burrowed under the multiple layers of her wide skirt and petticoats. This time her white satin panties didn't smother me, while they were on... After a few minutes of action by me Helen wanted her panties removed. I pulled them down.
As I emerged, clutching the panties, Helen reached under her skirt to roll her white stockings off. She asked me let her play, as she called it. She used her stockings to tie my ankles, and my wrists behind my back. She hooded me with her panties, holding them on my head with her garter pulling material between my lips. As I sat, helpless, on the edge of the bed, she ran her tongue up and down my erection before taking it into her mouth. I writhed as she brought me to the edge of cumming again and again. Finally she took almost everything into her mouth. She swallowed as I erupted.
"Now you can arouse me properly," Helen said, "without being impatient."
Of course I couldn't until she removed the garter and panties blindfolding and gagging me. A few minutes later, still tied hand and foot by her stockings, my head was back inside her skirt and I was licking furiously. She shuddered into an orgasm several times before she lifted her skirt to let me out.
Half an hour later she had tied my wrists to the bed head and had straddled me. The skirt of the wedding gown covered my body completely. Helen arranged the train so that it was beyond my feet. Even if my arms had been free I couldn't have reached the edges of the sjirt. She wound her legs under my arms to press her warm pussy over my face. At first she held her skirt and petticoats out of the way so she could see and direct what I was doing. As she got excited again her hands moved to the bedrail. My head disappeared inside the voluminous layers of her gown as she squealed above me.
At last Helen was satisfied. She uncovered my head, sat on my chest, and stroked my head with one hand. Slowly she slid down my body until she engulfed my erection. She moved up and down slowly and gently. Gradually she tightened her lower lips before moving quicker. As she felt me getting close, she slowed down again and loosened her grip. After the fourth time she clamped hard around my prick. Her hands picked up the layers of her gown, lifted them, and smothered my face under satin.
She kept her gown tightly wrapped around my head as I bucked underneath her into a shattering eruption.
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Helen kept the wedding dress for future bedroom play. Her cousin didn't want it back. The layers of petticoats filled the bottom of our only wardrobe. It was too expensive at the time for us to have the gown professionally cleaned so it could be sold or given away. It was obvious in Helen's studio flat. It was too large to go in the small wardrobe so it was hanging, in its massive bag, from the top of the door to the bathroom. That meant that neither of us could fully shut the bathroom door. As newly-weds enjoying exploring each other's nude bodies we didn't care. We showered together in enforced closeness.
The fold-up bed settee became a small double when open. With our backs against the top end we could watch our small television. Within days it was obvious that our programme preferences were sometimes different. Helen wanted to watch an early evening half-hour soap every weeknight. I detested it. The solution was simple.
Naked, I lay down on the bed with the back of my head to the television. Helen lifted her skirt and sat on my face. My head was lightly gripped by her soft thighs. Her panties were almost touching my face. If I tilted my head slightly my nose would push her panties into her cleft. She would take that as a signal that I wanted to be really face-sat. She would press on her skirt and clamp her thighs harder to smother me with her pantie-covered sex. She would relax her grip after a minute to allow me to breathe before smothering me again.
Once her programme had finished she would lift herself, pull her panties off, and expect me to tongue her to several orgasms before sliding down to engulf my erection. She had watched her programme. I had been enjoying myself before satisfying her.
For those few weeks in her studio flat we lived on quickly made meals or casseroles that had sat in the oven during the half-hour programme. When we went to bed at the end of the evening we weren't frantic for sex. We could take our time mutually arousing each other before coupling. We might have been cramped in that flat, impatiently waiting to get into our house, but our lovemaking was reinforcing our relationship. She watched what she wanted. I experienced arousal while she watched. Both of us saw that half-hour as an important part of each day, something we were looking forward to while at work.
One evening I had showered soon after returning from work. It had been a hot day and the office air-conditioning had failed. I heard Helen unzip the bag containing the wedding dress. As I emerged from the bathroom wearing only my boxers Helen was in her bra and panties, holding one of her white wedding stockings in her hands. The wedding gown had been turned around so that the train was outwards.
"Turn round, John," she ordered. "Cross your wrists."
She tied my wrists with the stocking. She pushed me gently to stand with my back to the wedding gown.
"Stand still..."
Helen struggled to lift the layers of the gown over my head. She dropped it over me. My head was inside the bodice. I was breathing the faint scent of the perfume she had worn on our wedding day. The gown covered me completely. Helen's hands pushed the bodice over my face. That made her perfume even stronger as I breathed through the material. I tilted my head slightly to look up. The shoulders and neck of the dress were at least a foot above me and the opening was obstructed by the wide padded hanger. I wasn't getting air from up there.
Helen wriggled inside the gown before pulling my boxers down to my knees. Her tongue gently stroked up and down my growing erection until it became hard. The gown rustled and heaved as she took my prick into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around my body as she sucked gently. As I became more aroused Helen's perfume, not just from the gown but from her body. I felt that she was wholly in control of me. My hands were tied, my head was hooded inside the bodice of her wedding dress, my boxers were restricting my leg movements, and Helen's mouth had surrounded my erection.
