Fall to Temptation
Part 3

By Dirk Vincento
dirkvincento @ hotmail . com
Copyright 2013 by Dirk Vincento, all rights reserved.

CHAPTER 5

            Suzanne looked at Bruce, watching him as he ate his dinner.  Her eyes glanced down at the ring on her finger and then returned to the man sitting across the table from her, the man she was going to marry . . . and she felt a warm glow.  This was the first evening they had spent together since becoming engaged and Suzanne couldn’t get over how much difference it seemed to make.  She had always loved to cook for Bruce, but now the act of making him a meal felt like it was a part of something bigger.  It was as if some powerful current had swept her up and was carrying her along helplessly.  The feeling was both exhilarating and frightening.

            As she watched Bruce reach for his wine and lift the glass to his lips, she realized that being his girlfriend had been a fairly loose framework to work within.  The guidelines were flexible and the expectations were few.  They could see each other as often or as seldom as they pleased, and for the most part, their relationship was based on the moment more than on future plans.  But she was finding that being a fiancée was a much more well-defined role.  It occurred to her that she felt a certain amount of pressure to act like a fiancée, in whatever way it was that society had conditioned her to believe a fiancée should behave.  And in the same way, she now felt that Bruce should fulfill his role as her husband-to-be in the way that society had taught her to expect.  She wondered if the same process would start all over again when they were married and she was a wife and he, her husband.  It all seemed very confusing.

            “What are you thinking about?” Bruce asked.

            “Nothing really,” Suzanne said, suddenly realizing how far into her mind she had drifted.  “Why do you ask?”

            “You just had a very thoughtful expression on your face for a moment there.”

            “I was just thinking about how it feels to be engaged,” she answered simply.

            Bruce smiled at her, assuming that the feeling was a good one.  He picked up his wine glass and held it out to her.  Suzanne held her glass up in turn.

            “To us,” Bruce said.

            “To us,” Suzanne replied.

            They clinked their glasses together delicately before taking a drink of wine.  Placing their glasses on the table, they looked into each others eyes and felt the warmth of being two people in love.

            “I have a surprise for you,” Bruce said earnestly.

            “Another surprise!” Suzanne exclaimed.

            “This one won’t fit in a jewelry box, but I’m hoping that you’ll like it just as much.”

            Suzanne waited silently, nervous with anticipation.  Bruce took a deep breath and then paused for emphasis.

            “I picked out a house for us.”

            “A house!” Suzanne cried out, her face beaming with delight.  “Where?  When?”

            “Well, I just happened to be driving around the other day and I saw the FOR SALE sign on the lawn.”

            “Where is it?” Suzanne asked, her voice filled with excitement.

            “It’s down in the Annex, just off Archibald.”

            “Oh my God,” Suzanne shrieked.  “I love the Annex!  There are so many beautiful old homes.”

            “Well, this one’s old and I think it’s beautiful.  I hope you like it, too.”

            “I know I will,” Suzanne said, getting up to give Bruce a hug and a kiss.  As she felt his arms wrap around her, her mind began racing.  It seemed like so much was happening so quickly.

            “I think I need another glass of wine,” she said as she sat down again.  Bruce smiled broadly as he filled her glass, happy and relieved that his surprise had gone over so well.

            “So when can we see it?” Suzanne asked, still trying to collect herself.

            “We could go on the weekend,” Bruce answered.  “I’ll call the real estate agent and arrange to have him take us through the house.”  Bruce looked at Suzanne and when he spoke his voice was softer.  “I really hope you like it.  I want it to be our home.  I want us to have our own place to move into when we’re married.”

            Suzanne smiled, warmed by the thought, and then her expression became more serious.

            “There’s something else I wanted to talk about . . . about the time between now and when we get married,” she said, sounding slightly apprehensive.

            “What’s that?” Bruce asked casually.

            “I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it, but I was thinking that . . . ”

            She paused awkwardly.

            “ . . . maybe we could not have sex again until we’re married.”

            Bruce sat up straighter in his chair, obviously taken aback.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well . . . exactly that,” she went on hesitantly.  “That we don’t make love again until our wedding night.”

            Bruce could sense that this was important to Suzanne and tried to conceal his astonishment.

            “This might sound like a strange question but . . . why?”

            “It’s just that I want our wedding night to be special, and if we keep making love between now and then, it will seem like we’re just doing it again, one more time.  I thought that if we waited, we could recapture some of the magic, the anticipation.  It would be like doing it for the first time again.”

            She took a deep breath, feeling like a lawyer who had rested her case and now awaited the verdict of the court.

            “I don’t know what to say,” Bruce said slowly.  “It’s not something I’d ever thought about.  I mean, we haven’t even picked a date yet.  I have no idea how long we’re talking about.”

            “There’s another bonus,” Suzanne suggested.  “It’ll help motivate us to not put things off too long.”  She smiled weakly, hoping that Bruce could find some humor in the situation.

            Now Bruce’s mind was racing.  Just yesterday he had been sitting at his desk trying to get used to the idea of being with one woman for the rest of his life.  Now he was being asked to contemplate going without sex entirely, for two . . . three . . . he wasn’t sure how many months.  He tried to remember the most time he had ever gone without sex and realized that it had never been long enough for him to even consider keeping track.  Could he do it?  He was convinced that that was an unanswerable question.  Would he try?  He looked at Suzanne and could see the expression of hope in her eyes.

            “This is really important to you, isn’t it?” he asked.

            “Yes.”

            She said the word plainly, as a matter of fact.  Bruce could feel himself bolstering his courage.

            “Then we’ll try,” he said.  “All I can say is, if it means that much to you, we’ll try.”

            “That’s all I can ask,” Suzanne said, her voice and her expression showing the depth of her relief.  She reached across the table and held Bruce’s hand.  “You won’t be sorry.  I promise.”

            She let the moment linger before asking, “Do you want some dessert?  I picked up an apple pie from the bakery down the street.”

            “Sure,” Bruce said, sounding like his mind was still more on sex than on apple pie.  He watched Suzanne as she got up and went into the kitchen.  His eyes followed her long legs up to her hips that flowed smoothly into her narrow waist.  The cheeks of her ass swayed back and forth gently as she walked, as if they were teasing him already.  He was quickly realizing that a man always does want most what he can’t have.  Looking at Suzanne’s body and suddenly knowing that it was off limits was surprisingly erotic and tantalizing.  Bruce smiled at himself as he began thinking that perhaps her plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

CHAPTER 6

            Rachael stood in her bedroom gazing at her reflection in the mirror.  Fresh from the shower, her hair was soaking wet, dark spots forming on the carpet as drops of water fell randomly about her feet.  A pale, blue bath towel was wrapped around her body, tucked snugly under her armpits and hanging down just far enough to cover her crotch.  Her eyes followed the reflected image of her long legs and she smiled at their feminine shapeliness.  At the top of her thighs, her hips flared out provocatively before disappearing beneath the towel which hung out in front of her flat stomach as it draped over the peaks of her enormous breasts.  Her eyes moved up across her mid-section and came to rest on the two gigantic mounds hidden under the towel.

            She reached up and slid the palm of her hand across the seemingly endless surface of her breast.  The pressure of her hand sent a wave of pleasure through her body that made her nipple stand up until it was clearly visible, even through the heavy material of the towel.  Her fingers passed over it, teasing it playfully and setting off an intense tingling sensation that started in her breast, traveled down her spine and exploded deep inside her pussy.  She let out a low moan as the erotic pleasure washed over her like a slow, soothing tide.  With her other hand she began making slow circles over the nipple of her other breast, gradually bringing it to life.  In a few moments it was standing erect as well, the bump it formed casting a distinct shadow across the surface of the towel.  With both nipples now tingling wildly, Rachael began to knead her massive tits with her hands, pressing them together from the sides and then hefting their considerable weight in her palms.  The feel of her breasts being massaged and fondled sent a deep erotic sensation resonating throughout her body.  As the intensity of her arousal began to reach a fever pitch, she took a nipple between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and squeezed, gently at first and then harder, gradually approaching the threshold of pain.  Her body began to quiver with pleasure and her cunt suddenly became very, very wet.  She squeezed her nipples a little tighter and then felt herself gush.  Hot musky juices flowed out of her opening and ran down the inside of her thighs.  Her eyes rolled back and her head rocked limply on her shoulders as the pleasure became overwhelming.  While still holding onto her nipples through the towel, she pushed her fists into her breasts.  Her hands sunk deep into the soft flesh and the pressure sent another overpowering wave of pleasure through her body, making her gush again.  More hot fluid ran down the inside of her legs while some of her juice began dripping on the floor, forming a slowly expanding wet spot between her feet.

            Reaching down with one hand, she began spreading her natural lubricant up over her clitoris.  Her fingers made small, tight circles, seeking out her most sensitive spot and bringing herself to the edge of orgasm.  With her free hand, she untucked the towel from under her armpit and slowly drew it across her body, gradually exposing her incredible breasts.  She watched her reflection intensely as one of her huge tits became visible.  It hung down well over her stomach and stood out from her body in a way that seemed to defy gravity.  Her aereole was large and dark brown, standing out in deep contrast against the creamy white complexion of her flesh.  Her nipple was the size of a fingertip and stood up hard and erect.  Goosebumps broke out on Rachael’s skin as the sight of her own breast aroused her even more.

            The towel continued its journey across her chest until the long line of cleavage between her tits became visible.  She stared down into her deep, dark valley of femininity and another wave of thick fluid gushed from deep inside her, spilling out onto her hand and her thighs, making them feel hot and wet.  The sensation in her groin had become irresistible, as strong and intense as an electric shock.  Her clitoris was vibrating and tingling wildly, begging to be taken to the limit.  Her hand moved faster and faster, every second bringing her closer to the edge.  She was quickly reaching the point of no return, approaching the line after which an orgasm would be inevitable.

            As her other breast peeked out, displaying its own dark aereole and huge nipple that seemed to be standing up even more erect than its mate, the final wave of erotic pleasure rushed through Rachael’s body.  The sight of her enormous breasts, now fully exposed and jutting out majestically from her body, was more than she could stand.  Her hand became a blur, driven on by the image of her naked body in the mirror.  She could feel something coming, rushing towards her, now only inches away.  The muscles in her legs and abdomen tightened like steel bands, bracing themselves in anticipation of the erotic storm that was about to hit.  And then her hand stopped and her body froze, suddenly knowing that it had arrived.  The orgasm that sprang forth from deep within her vagina buckled her knees.  She cried out as her limbs and joints became loose and uncontrollable.  An incredible feeling of erotic sexuality washed over her, filling her with pleasure that seemed to ooze out of her pores.  Her hand began moving again, once more making slow, sensuous circles that pushed her on even further.  The intensity mounted until she could feel herself floating, as if the floor had fallen out from beneath her feet.  As her climax reached its peak, an endless torrent of fluid drained out of her, soaking her legs and splashing onto the floor.  She drew in a deep gasp, filling her lungs with air, and then let out a low guttural moan.

            The hand on her crotch gradually slowed down until it became motionless.  She could feel her pulse pounding in her clitoris and throbbing deep in her vagina.  Weak and breathless, she stood before the mirror, gazing at her reflection and basking in the afterglow of the pleasure of her orgasm.

                                               *                      *                      *

Rachael first masturbated at the age of twelve.  Her mother, who had felt too embarrassed and ill-equipped to explain the facts of life, answered the inevitable questions about sex by simply presenting her with a book, innocently entitled, ‘A Doctor Talks to Nine to Twelve Year Olds.’  Rachael read the book from cover to cover, taking in every detail, and came away with a new respect for her female anatomy.  It seemed that the opening between her legs, which until now had only been good for going to the bathroom, would one day become useful for an entirely different purpose.  The concept left her filled with awe and wonderment.

            The first night after reading the book, Rachael got under the covers with a flashlight and began to explore.  Feeling both nervous and excited, she put her hand between her legs and searched for her opening.  She slid her finger inside, careful not to go too far for fear of breaking something called the hymen, which the book had explained must remain intact if you wanted to stay a virgin.  Her finger felt good inside her and the warm tingling sensation it created seemed to make things a little wet.  She drew her finger out and slid it up to her clitoris, an organ whose function the book had been decidedly vague about.  She found it was partially hidden by a fold of skin.  When she tried to pull the skin back to get at it better, an unexpected sensation that felt like an electric shock radiated from her clitoris and travel rapidly to every part of her body.  The intense feeling was accompanied by a small rush of fluid that ran out of her vagina.  At first Rachael thought she had wet herself, but quickly found that the stuff that had come out of her was the wrong color and much too thick to be urine.  Confused and a little frightened, she decided it would be better to leave well enough alone.  She cleaned up the small mess and went to sleep, somehow instinctively knowing that this was not something she would tell her mother about in the morning.  She was pretty sure she wouldn’t even tell her little sister, Suzanne; and she usually told Suzanne everything.

            By the next morning Rachael had managed to put the incident of the night before out of her mind.  Her sleep had been filled with dreams of the pleasant tingling sensation in her crotch, but those images seemed to have fallen behind the safety of a hazy mist as well.  She ate her breakfast while teasing her little sister as she did every morning and headed off to school, where she suffered through a history test that she had forgotten to study for.  After school, she played with her friends until it was time for dinner, did some of her homework and then headed off to bed.

            It wasn’t until she slid under the covers and turned out the light that the memory of the tingling sensation from the night before returned.  It seemed to call out to her, whispering her name in sweet tones that demanded her attention.  She tried desperately to resist the urge, but the temptation was too great.  Somehow it seemed naughty and she was sure that she would be punished if her mother ever found out.  But her fear of recrimination wasn’t nearly strong enough to stop her hand from finding its way back down to that secret place between her legs.

            As her finger began probing hesitantly, for a moment she wondered if it had been a fluke, something that she did once but might not ever be able to make happen again.  But that thought was quickly washed away as her finger slid easily into her opening and it became instantly wet.  She moved her hand back and forth gently, letting out a short gasp as the intensity of the pleasure surprised her.  Things were starting to get very wet again, which made her nervous, so she moved her hand up to her clitoris as she had done the night before.  Now covered with the thick fluid from her vagina, her finger slid smoothly over the sensitive flesh.  She let out another gasp as an incredible tingling sensation shot like a bolt of electricity from the head of her clitoris deep up into her vagina.  The intensity of the feeling brought tears to her eyes and, as it happened the night before, a rush of fluid ran out of her, messing the sheets of her bed.

            For a long time after, Rachael lay still in the dark as the tingling sensations slowly dissipated.  Her body was weak and quivering and her head was swimming in a sea of emotions too deep and complex for her adolescent mind to comprehend.  Only the reality of the pleasure seemed clear and uncomplicated.  The last thing she remembered before drifting off to sleep was considering the possibility that she was the first person who had ever discovered that you could create this wonderful feeling by touching yourself between your legs.  After all, if anyone else knew about this, surely it would have been mentioned in the book.

            Within the next year, the school yard taught Rachael what the doctor’s book hadn’t.  She had reached the age at which masturbation became the subject of numerous jokes whispered at recess amongst nervous titters and written on secret notes passed stealthily during class.  None of the jokes portrayed masturbating in a positive light.  In fact, it was hard to find words to describe the depth of depravity a person had sunk to if they ever indulged in such a perverted practice.  Many times she thanked her lucky stars that she had never confessed her secret discovery to anyone before she learned that it was better not to.

            There was a period that lasted for many months during which Rachael tried desperately to stop her hand from making its late night excursions under the covers, but eventually she gave in to the inevitable.  She was hooked.  The beautiful, warm, tingling sensation that emanated from between her legs called out to her and she found herself powerless to resist its sweet promise of heavenly bliss.  As she got older, the volume of fluid that drained out of her as she stimulated herself increased dramatically and became more of a problem.  What had started as a trickle eventually turned into an absolute torrent.  She got into the practice of taking a towel to bed in an attempt to hide any telltale traces that might tip her mother off to what was actually going on under her covers late at night.

                                               *                      *                      *

Rachael’s hands, which had been gently massaging her pussy as she watched herself in the mirror, moved up and began caressing her breasts.  As she lay her palms flat against her skin, they covered only a small section of the surface of her enormous globes.  Whoever came up with the saying, ‘more than a handful is wasted’, must have been an A-cup, she thought to herself.  She loved her breasts.  She loved their immense size and their incredible sensitivity.  She loved the pleasure they gave her, both to look at and to touch.  She ran her fingers across their sensitive skin and smiled as they tingled with erotic electricity.

                                               *                      *                      *

            Rachael’s breasts had begun developing at an earlier age than most of the other girls in school.  From the time they first appeared as small bumps pushing out from behind her nipples, she quickly discovered that touching and teasing them with one hand, while the other reached down into the wondrous dark world of pleasure between her legs, multiplied the intensity of the sensations she felt tenfold.  If she had been hooked before, now she was completely lost.  The combination of her breasts and her crotch and the erotic world of pleasure and delight that they created were completely irresistible.

            After their initial appearance, Rachael’s breasts grew at an alarming rate.  At first she tried to conceal them, fearful of the kidding and nasty remarks their presence would bring.  But her efforts were in vain.  Before long they had grown to unconcealable proportions.  And while they did draw the expected snide remarks and whispers behind her back from the other girls in her class, for the most part their comments went unnoticed because Rachael was far too busy enjoying the attention her prominent bosom was getting from the boys.  She couldn’t help but notice that when walking through the halls in school, not a single boy could pass her without having their eyes drawn to her chest like iron filings to a magnet.  Even the male teachers were unable to resist the temptation to catch a glimpse of her continually enlarging mammaries.  On more that one occasion in class, boys had been caught embarrassingly flat footed when unable to answer the teachers question because the only geometry on their mind was the size and shape of Rachael’s tits.

            All the attention bolstered Rachael’s self confidence and filled her with a sense of power.  The derogatory comments from the other girls seemed like a small price to pay and she generally brushed them off as the product of petty jealousy.  By her senior year in high school she had taken to wearing clothes that accentuated her staggeringly large bust.  Her tight sweaters and low-cut tops exposed a never ending line of irresistible cleavage that caused more than one of the boys in her class to fail grade twelve English and had left every male teacher in the school standing in front of their class on more than one occasion without any idea of what they were about to say!

            At one point the distracting effect of her ample bustline on the male population of the school led to her being called into the vice principal’s office to discuss the appropriateness of her attire.  Mr. Devlin, a conservative man in his fifties who ruled the student body with a stern hand, tried awkwardly to explain to Rachael how her over- sized breasts and the revealing way in which she displayed them had become a disruptive influence throughout the school.  He acknowledged that there was little she could do about the unnatural proportions of her body and suggested that perhaps if she were to dress a little more conservatively, the problem might be brought under control.  Rachael could tell by the way Mr. Devlin was trying desperately to avoid staring at her chest, not to mention his flushed complexion and the number of times he found himself stammering and stumbling over his words, that he had fallen helplessly under the spell of her huge bosom.  She knew that she would be free to dress any way she pleased and her distinguished vice- principal would be quite powerless to do anything to stop her.

            Rachael’s enormous breasts had become her most powerful tools and her best friends.  By the time she started dating, she had discovered that she could use her feminine attributes to get men to do just about anything she wanted.  She even figured out that teasing and unfulfilled promises were her strongest weapons of all.  As long as she could keep a guy convinced that she was genuinely interested in him and that his chance to get close to her colossal globes was just around the corner, there seemed to be no limit to the degree of manipulation or humiliation she could inflict on him. Sometimes she used her power for material gain.  She took great pride in the fact that she had never actually paid to see a movie in her life.  And sometimes she used her power over men to simply entertain herself by making them dance like puppets on the end of a string.

            Once Rachael became sexually active, she found that getting men into bed was easy, but keeping them there was somewhat more difficult.  Her ravenous sexual appetite, combined with her free-spirited and sometimes downright kinky approach to lovemaking, scared most of her partners away.  Whenever a man refused to submit to her demands, she would cast him aside, unable to resist the driving compulsion to seek out someone else who might be able to fulfill her sexual desires.

            Recognizing the need to tame down her approach if she ever hoped to keep a man for any length of time, Rachael trapped her future husband by suppressing her more exotic sexual proclivities until after they were married.  Once the knot was securely tied and her new hubby had been lulled into a false sense of security, she gradually began to make more and more sexual demands on him.  At first he tried his best to fulfill her needs.  But in the end she proved to be too much for him and he left.

            After her divorce Rachael returned to dating, using her abundant physical attributes and her overt sexuality to attract men like a spider luring unsuspecting insects into its web.  It never ceased to amaze Rachael how easily men fell at her feet when confronted with her overwhelming bosom.  It seemed too obviously Freudian to think that the sight of a huge breast and the thought of its thick rubbery nipple could turn grown men into little boys looking to be suckled and nurtured at their mother’s teat.  But the fact remained that Rachael had yet to meet the man who could resist temptation once she had centered him in her sights.

                                               *                      *                      *

            Still watching herself in the mirror, Rachael looked at her breasts lovingly and tweaked the tips of her nipples with her fingers.  She felt a pleasant tingling sensation, slightly muted by the effect of her recent orgasm.  Watching how her breasts hung pendulously from her chest, their enormous size exaggerated by the narrowness of her waist, she could easily understand the overpowering effect they had on men.  There was an erotic sensuality to their beauty that was undeniable and irresistible.

            As her fingers continued to tease her nipples playfully, she couldn’t help but think about Suzanne’s request.  At the time, she had blown it off as one of her kid sister’s crazy ideas.  But since then, one thing had continued to linger on in her mind.  Suzanne had seemed quite certain that Bruce would pass the test, that he would be able to resist the temptation of Rachael’s forbidden fruits.  Rachael wasn’t sure if she had been offended by the implication that this was a man she couldn’t control and manipulate like so many others in her past, or if her interest had merely been piqued by the challenge.  She had no desire to steal Bruce from her sister, but her mind seemed to float continually back and forth between Suzanne’s need to know if he could be faithful and her own need to know if there truly existed a man that she could not have.  In the end she found herself rationalizing that it was, after all, Suzanne’s idea in the first place.  And she wasn’t really asking all that much of her.  Lord knows she had seduced enough men in the past and when you really thought about it, what was one more?  If he succumbed to her advances, then she would have done Suzanne a great service, saving her from an unhappy marriage, years of misery and inevitable heartbreak.  And if Bruce actually managed to resist her seduction, an outcome she had to admit she thought highly unlikely, then Suzanne would have the answer she was looking for and live happily ever after.

            Rachael’s hands reached down and slid up her thighs and over her hips.  She leaned toward the mirror slightly and thrust forward her chest, striking a seductive pose.  She threw her reflection a lusty, seductive look and then smiled contentedly.  In the end, she thought, it came down to the fact that this was an opportunity she couldn’t resist.