Beads Of My Heart 1

Le Petit Mort

None of this would have happened were it not for Pauline.

Pauline was blonde. Pauline was overly-friendly. Pauline was your garden-variety kook.

It wasn't just the crystals on her desk. Or the "Find Your Aura" poster on her cubicle wall. Or even the circlet of magnets she wore on her head for over a month "to ward off migraines".

No, it was the way she evangelized all of the above.

Eventually, one complainant brought up the prohibition in the employee handbook about proselytizing during working hours...and then Human Resources flunkies were treated to a lecture from the aforementioned kook as to why the cures and treatments she espoused were not "religion", but simply "alternative medicine". So the problem persisted. Coworkers learned to simply ignore her rantings.

Kelly was fairly new to the office, and didn't yet feel as comfortable giving Pauline the brush-off as her associates did. She waited patiently while the woman went on about all the herbal supplements she should take, and then went back to get some work done. It was pretty nutty stuff but, frankly, she'd heard dumber things in Sunday school. She'd gotten through that all the way to Confirmation; she could tolerate this.

Pauline evidently mistook this tolerance for kinship, and started gifting Kelly with items designed to enhance her spiritual well-being. There was a whole box of junk in Kelly's kitchen which she contemplated either selling on Craigslist to the similarly gullible or merely tossing into the rubbish bin. She leaned toward the latter.

The one thing Pauline ever gave her which appeared to be worth a damn was the one thing Pauline had ever evinced any skepticism about. "The ad said it would provide enhanced sexual pleasure, but I think it's just a hoax." Kelly tried (with only moderate success) to suppress any mental images which sprang forth regarding how Pauline had come to this conclusion, but the small bracelet was actually kind of cute. As an accessory to some of her outfits, if nothing else.

In fact, she wore it out to the bar with her friends that weekend. The gloss of its pearlescent black beads provided a nice contrast with her beige pencil skirt and white top, and got her compliments from the more accessory-conscious of the ladies.

The guys weren't all that interested, though; they were way too busy checking out her breasts and rear end to notice anything adorning her wrists. Some of them smooth-talked their way over to her and bought her drinks, but the one she thought was hot was much more interested in her friend Shelby's rack than in herself. Still, free drinks were nothing to sneeze at, and when she eventually got in the cab to go back to her apartment, she was still pretty buzzed from the alcohol and—she had to admit—from all the attention.

As she bade Cassie and Savannah a good night, throwing in her contribution to the fare, Kelly made her way up the single flight of stairs to her studio and flopped unceremoniously onto her futon. She flicked off her shoes and shucked everything else but her panties, then thought about how she was feeling right now and doffed those as well.

Bare to the cool air of her home, she felt a dull need that reminded her how long it had been since Todd had left her, and with slow stroking anticipation her hands made their way down to her sex. Oh, it had been too long...

The mild euphoria from the alcohol gave the masturbation session a disconnected feel: the pleasure she felt seemed like it was coming from a source other than her fingers. That made it more exciting, as she was able to fantasize that it was not herself providing her this pleasure, but someone else entirely. Her passion increased as the sheets below her dampened from her exertions, and a circular motion of her palm on her clitoris, coupled with a finger driving deep inside her, soon brought her to a quiet but strong orgasm. She sighed and threw her head back, crossing her arms over her breasts and resting while her pounding pulse and her breathing slowed.

It wasn't rare for her to go back for seconds in self-pleasuring, but tonight she recovered faster than usual. Her breasts felt needy, and the beads of her new bracelet enticed her left nipple into arousal. Sympathetic, her right nipple followed, and Kelly rewarded it with a brush of the bracelet's smooth little spheres as well. "Mmmm..." she couldn't help but emit in response to this feeling. The little balls of the bracelet slid over her breasts as if oiled, but they left no residue, so it must have just been the frictionlessness of their construction. It felt delicious.

I wonder what it would feel like...

She slid the jewelry off her wrist and sent it southward into her steaming sex, and she cooed in delight when the pearls touched her mons. The little things seemed even more lubricated than before...and so did she, for that matter. She wrapped the tiny dark orbs around her clitoris and nearly came from just the touch of them there. She spun them around, and their slippery passes to either side of her pleasure button made her hips thrust upward as she came yet again—quicker than she ever had before, in fact, especially for a multiple.

Now, however, she was sleepy from the alcohol and the afterglow, and she let the links fall to her mattress and slid into unconsciousness.

Wakey-Wakey

She awoke face down, absently humping the mattress, something in her unconscious mind having tried desperately to get the bracelet inside of her body, even as she slept. Now that she no longer dreamed, she was able to better direct the motions of her rubbing, and when she finally felt the tingling brush of smooth beads against her inner thighs, she ground down upon them with her crotch once...twice...a third time, until they embedded themselves in her tenderest flesh and made her cry out.

The beads slipped out of her, then, and she was free. For the moment. Kelly tried hard to avoid thinking about how good that had felt. She'd had too much masturbation in the last several hours...and her tongue tasted of the alcohol-tainted fruity concoctions she'd consumed last night. Rising from the bed, leaving her new jewelry behind, she headed to the lavatory and turned on the shower. Sitting on the commode while the water grew warm enough for comfort, she smothered the urge to look back out the door, toward her bed, where she could almost feel the presence of dark, hot, lusty...

Kelly shook her head, flushed the toilet, and stepped into the stall, directing the shower nozzle away from her nether region. Stubbornly so.

Unharnessed

Shelby had called at three in the afternoon, a little hung over but slightly giddy.

"You should have seen this guy, Kelly. Not only was he a knockout, he had an absolutely glorious package."

Kelly blushed despite herself. It was clear that her friend had not only gone home with the guy she'd met in the bar, but had slept with him as well. Kelly was no stranger to casual sex...she just liked to keep it a little...well, less casual than that. Knowing someone's name was a good start. She wasn't certain Shelby was so picky.

Shelby discussed the member in question without regard to her friend's sensibilities. And what Shelby had done with it, and how it had felt; it was a concept totally divorced from the man attached to it, apparently. Which concept, oddly enough, was turning Kelly on. Or perhaps it was the bracelet she'd placed on her wrist and was fiddling with, delicious on her flesh. The thought of a pleasurable item disconnected with anything male—or even human—was something she was coming to comprehend, since last night.

She feigned a sleepiness she did not feel, and tried to escape the phone conversation in order to apply her hands between her parted thighs. She'd actually started to fiddle with her outer lips and was stifling a moan before she could get Shelby to agree to call her later. "We'll go out later to look for a few more good men," the big-busted lady on the line had laughed before hanging up, but Kelly let the receiver fall to the floor unreplaced in its receptacle. Her naughty parts were engorged with need, and the annoying signal on the phone which told her it was off the hook faded from her awareness as she pulled off the bracelet and affixed it to her moistened sex.

She plunged two fingers through the beaded ring and into herself, the stones providing a circle of throbbing black fire on the exterior while her interior was indulged with penetration. Her other hand snaked up to her nipples, alternating between them in squeezing, scratching, and otherwise toying with them to accentuate her arousal. She abandoned them, though, when her climax approached; she used both hands to finger herself, now, and the vigor of her exertions resulted in a quiet snick as her orgasm drenched her hands in lubrication.

She came down from the high and looked down at her pubis...horrified to see that the bracelet's circle was no more—she'd snapped it open while in the throes of coming. Forgetting her panting and the residual pleasure, she scooped up the broken chain and examined it with care. The elastic string had snapped, though none of the smooth black spheres had come off and been lost, she realized with relief; she couldn't bear to think she might have misplaced one.

Breathing heavily, now with worry rather than sexual bliss, she looked for a means to repair the circlet. A knot in the string would too easily come undone, considering the uses to which she'd been putting it, and while it was exciting to imagine the little pearls falling into her folds and crevices, getting lost there...the prospect of having to have them removed in a hospital room were too disturbing for contemplation.

Fortunately, she had some old necklace repair fuzzies from high school lying around in her drawer somewhere. She'd contemplated throwing them out long ago, but had never gotten around to doing it, so there they were. Lavender, of course; such were the 80s. But they were functional, at any rate; the broken ends of the strings fed into a needle hole, then twisted several times around the central spindle to provide a tight hold. Then the fuzzies were knotted around one another. It was entirely silly looking, but it would suffice. Once, the fuzzies had been the only thing which had kept her from an embarrassing loss of her boyfriend's class ring at an amusement park, and she trusted them to do their work once more.

Somehow the bracelet seemed significantly longer, now; choker-length, if not full necklace-sized. It must have been stretched in her rigorous movements, and the fuzzies must have added some of their own slack to the picture. There seemed to be more beads, too, but that was obviously just an illusion; probably they were more loosely packed on the longer string, now, and just appeared to be more numerous.

It's still beautiful, she thought to herself, though she had a difficult time discerning whether this was due to its appearance or its known effect on her feminine parts.

She did have a lavender dress she could wear tonight carousing with Shelby which would match the choker, but it was a bit more revealing than she ordinarily wore. Not to mention a size too tight, probably. She went off to look for it anyway, though; the dampness of her thighs went virtually unnoticed as she opened the closet door.

Night Moves

"Wow, Kelly, you're really dressed to kill tonight."

Kelly blushed, though pleased by the compliment. "Thanks, Shel. Don't you sometimes feel like dressing...flashy?"

"'Sometimes' doesn't even begin to cover it, sweetheart. When do I not dress to accentuate my tits?"

It was hard to argue with that. Tonight it was a black lace demi-cup overlaid with a white transparent blouse; she may as well have hung a sign:

Rest cheek here, baby!

Not that Kelly was being outdone. She'd let down her hair, and it fell asymmetrically over half of her face, lending her an aura of mystery; the tight spandex-enhanced material of her dress hugged every curve. Her choker was displayed casually, not prominently; the fuzzy new clasp hung to the side, nearly hidden under her hair. The effect might have been ridiculous on a woman who did not walk with the air of confidence Kelly did, or who didn't ooze sensuality in quite the same way when she moved. Despite the outfit being nearly ten years old, Kelly certainly was capable of turning heads wearing it.

And that she most certainly did. Both ladies were stunning to the men at the Baja Beach Club, but for a change the men were ogling Kelly's pert ass and legs, rather than spending most of their time salivating over Shelby's breasts. Shelby could have been disappointed in her luck, but instead seemed excited by Kelly's change in fortunes. "You, my dear, are going home with a beautiful piece of man-flesh tonight!"

Kelly pondered this, as she pondered the gaze of Mark, who had just walked over to the bar to get them some drinks. His friend Aurelio, who talked with a very cool accent which he claimed was Afrikaans but which sounded almost Scottish, sat with the ladies and made conversation, but always his eyes were drawn back to Kelly.

"Tha' is a lovely item you're wearin', lady," he purred. "I do adore seeing women wear a choker like tha'."

Kelly was immediately self-conscious and her hand stole up to the beads. She caressed them absently, hoping she was not giving the wrong impression to the men around her...and, truth be told, hoping that she was. The affection being demonstrated by Aurelio and Mark, not to mention several previous gentlemen, was starting to get her damp with excitement at tonight's prospects for pleasure.

The night dragged on, and Mark and Aurelio seemed to be in a competition for who would get to take Kelly home. Shelby watched with a certain playful interest, but when it seemed that Kelly was stalling or perhaps balking altogether, she decided to take matters into her own hands. "Well," she yawned, "I'm tired, and too tipsy to drive." She'd not had a drink for hours. "Which one of you fine gentlemen is going to drive me home?"

Both looked a bit guilty; it appeared that neither wanted to jeopardize his chances at Kelly by driving her friend home. Eventually, though, Mark seemed to have decided that a sure thing with the attractive Shelby was preferable to taking his chances with the breathtaking-but-slow-moving Kelly, and he held out his hand to the woman, bowing his farewell to both his compatriot and to the other attractive woman.

Aurelio apparently saw this as his cue, as well. "I am feelin' a bit close to bed myself. Would you care for a ride home, Kelly?"

Kelly was torn; she really liked Aurelio, and was very turned on by his dark eyes and the way he was staring at her, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to sleep with him. Clearly, he was feeling no such reservations; his cock wagged back and forth under the tent of his trousers as he walked to the door, holding Kelly's coat over his arm until they were stepping outside. She licked her lips as she contemplated the contents of the tent.

The valet retrieved his car, a lumpy but still shiny and new-looking sedan which had comfortable seats, at least, and he held the door for her, "accidentally" resting his hand on her knee as he closed the door, wishing her a good night. Aurelio hadn't noticed the look of desire on his face as he'd touched her skin, but Kelly certainly hadn't missed it.

Very few words were exchanged as they drove—certainly not any directions to Kelly's apartment; there was no real pretense being made at whose home they were going to. Kelly placed her hand on his neck and began to stroke it gently as he drove, then extended her fingernails and lightly scratched his scalp. He was enjoying this, and looked like a large mountain cat being petted. With surprising swiftness, he let out a growl, then pulled the car off the street and into a parking lot.

Kelly felt him close on her, his mouth insistent, his hands sliding up her skirt to touch her panties, to stroke them, to ease them aside to yield her hole for his use. She was breathing heavily, pushing her crotch forward toward his hand, wanting nothing more than to have him inside of her, seeing from his fierce expression that he was equally desperate. Some voice inside her resisted, though, told her what she was doing was all wrong, that she needed to—

Kelly pushed him away, and in a quick movement yanked open the door and ran across the midnight street and into an alley. She didn't stop to look back, not even as she heard Aurelio yelling, "What the fuck is goin' on wit' you, woman? What did I do wrong?" Her face was tear-streaked, and she collapsed against the grime-smeared brownstone wall as she heard his tires squeal angrily away. She regretted his absence, which was why she was somewhat shocked to find a voice in her head whispering,

Thank goodness!

even as her hands rerouted themselves from the street she propped herself up against. Rerouted themselves straight to the recently-moved and certainly wet panties, and under them, through the leg hole, to her sizzling pussy. Her fingers diddled her clitoris as she splayed her legs lewdly into the darkness of the alleyway, hoping no one would come by to see her.

When one of her hands reached up to unclasp the choker, to feel its unmarred and slick stones stroke her palms and, soon, her opening, she ceased wondering if anyone would come by to see her; she just pressed her hands and her jewelry into herself with vigorous motion that startled her. When the spheres entered her, she immediately climaxed at the pleasure of the touch, grinding her ass down on the roadway in reaction. She recovered quickly, and while she did she stuffed the whole choker inside herself; there seemed to be much more to it, when it was undone like this, and several beads hung out once she'd completed her project. As the third-from-last pearl entered her messy gash, she came again, this time rubbing the other two little things against her nub, back and forth, back and forth...

A pause, then, as she recovered some measure of her sanity; she was in an alley, for God's sake, masturbating without regard for anything moral or even legal. She started to pull the beads out of her, then realized after a few had come out that the wonderful feeling this elicited would only drop her back into the depths of her depravity, again, so she left them inside her, where they would be safe...and would not cause her to scream in orgasm in the midst of a dark, dirty street. Again. Her panties kept them inside her, though the delicious movement as she walked to the corner almost prevented her from reaching that destination. She sat down on a bench and waited for the #57 bus, barely able to restrain herself from fucking her own pussy before it arrived.

Whether the bus driver was able to tell or not that she was frigging herself in the back seat, Kelly was never able to guess, but fantasizing about the look he gave her as she left his vehicle was enough to give her another shuddering orgasm. Though this time it was lying on her pillow instead of on hard, cold concrete.

Research

"Pauline, do you still have the ad for the bracelet you gave me?"

The space-cadet seemed thrilled to have someone actually engage her in a conversation about one of her remedies, even a discarded one. "Why?" she replied, wide-eyed, "Is it working?"

"No!" came the reply, a little too intensely. "No," Kelly corrected herself, I just really like the way it goes with some of my clothes, and I wanted to know where to order another one. In case this one gets damaged or stolen."

"Well, I'm so thrilled you are getting some use out of it, anyway!" She bit her lip. "Hmmm... I can try to find the magazine I saw the ad in; I'm not sure if it was Vortices, The Earth Mother, or Spirituality Monthly. I'll look for it for you, though."