08-04-2008, 03:28 PM
A True Story written by Christopher Yglesias
This happened my freshman year at NC state. Leslie and I have been married for over four years. We first met when I moved from my home in Italy to North Carolina. I had the dreams of becoming a screenwriter(which has recently happened to me-first optioned screenplay) and she herself was more of the artist type. We met my freshman year in college and everything seemed to click from there on. Let me tell you about Leslie. She's one of those people who could eat all day long and never gain an ounce. Eyes as clear as an Hawaiian ocean, with a curved body and medium sized breasts. Long, straight blonde hair. Through the time we revealed our secrets she began to adapt to my fantasies as well, every day, no matter what the weather or occasion, she wore a crop top that stopped right under her tits, with either a jeans skirt or tight jeans. Looking at her would make your heart stop.
When I first decided to move out of my homeland, Italy, my sister, Carla, was the first to object. Even though she's absolutely gorgeous as well, she's always been one of those extremely cynical people who feel they've got a grudge against the world. Also our town's best fighter. A second degree black belt in Kung Fu, on top of that five years of kickboxing. She's still very fit, with short black hair and big green eyes that would narrow suspiciously at you every time you tried to talk to her. Not exactly the best person to find a friend in, but she'll always be my baby sister, and that's okay to live with.
After two months of dating, I decided it was finally time to tell the family. Which was the furthest thing from their minds, because they were especially suspicious about American people and their culture. But Leslie was adorable. Didn't seem to sink in with them, either. My sister, especially. We would have long talks at night, and she would keep pressing me very personal questions about Leslie, more or less like what I was I was doing with her, or-to her opinion-what she was doing to me. At first I sort of laughed and smiled where needed, saying everything was okay. I don't know what made her decide to ship over here and see for herself. But she's nuts sometimes.
That night we were having a small party at my place. Carla was in town, that much I knew. I didn't know she'd come barging in at the wrong moment. Leslie wore a tight-fitting jeans skirt that rode along her calves, and a white cotton top that stopped under her breasts, revealing her entire, tanned stomach and smooth hips. It was our anniversary, we had those a lot, and she wanted to surprise me fore the occasion. I wasn't disappointed.
It was a little before midnight before I heard someone knocking at the door. Leslie and I were sitting at my couch, talking about life in general, what we'd be doing with soon. It was Carla. Hands on her hips, casting an evil glare in my direction before diverting her attention back to Leslie, stretching out on the couch, the tip of her nipples showing.
"Who is it?" My sister grinned at me. "Let me take quick guess, the American bitch you've been seeing. Why is this is not surprising?"
Before I could shut the door on her she strode in beside me, never taking her eyes off Leslie. Leslie, in turn, snapped up and covered her arms in front of her stomach, blushing.
"Oh hi. Chris didn't mention he was having company." "It's okay," I told her, hugging her before I went to the TV nearby, switching it off, "this is my sister." Quick introductions. Leslie calmed down considerably, lowering her arms. Carla kept looking at her, mouth suddenly falling open when she saw Leslie's exposed belly. "And she dresses like one too," she smiled.
"Slut," she said in Italian. Leslie felt awkward. She put her hand out instead. "Hi, my name is Leslie. I'm Chris's-" she was cut off immediately as Carla kept moving forward, suddenly sticking one of her bony fingers in Leslie's stretched bellybutton. Leslie gasped, eyes blaring but Carla only smiled more, clapping her hand on Leslie's shoulder. From where I stood I couldn't exactly make out what they were saying next but I knew Carla was up to no good. I sighed heavily and went to fix another dinner instead.
It went horrible. No one spoke a word. Leslie kept rubbing her bellybutton where Carla had touched it, and Carla in turn kept grinning at the motion. She suddenly turned back to me. I knew exactly what she was thinking. "Your bitch seems to be pretty cute," she said in clear Italian, "so let's see what she's got." This had happened years ago once with my high school sweetheart. Four of her ribs had been broken and one leg was broken after she accepted a fight with my then young sis. I wasn't about to let it happen again, but she stopped me. "Don't fret, she'll do fine. I kind of like her already. If she can handle it, you will have my blessing. If not, she won't be telling anyone about it." I didn't like it but I agreed when she told me she would leave as soon as it was over. Leslie seemed to jump at the chance. "Anything for you," she winked, striding out to the living room as an half-hour later I cleared the entire room, sitting at one of the nearby couches.
"The point of this game is very simple," my sister said, tying Leslie's wrists together over her head on a chinning bar from my closet. Her top was edging dangerously close to her nipples. "I can hit you as many times as I like, and I can do anything I want to you at all. When you're done, we'll change positions." Leslie nodded meekly, pursing her full lips. My sister's hand slid down her sweaty stomach, lingering around her navel and fingering it. "She'll like it," she said to me. I tightened my hands against the side of the couch. I couldn't handle this, but it turned me on.
"Now close your eyes." She did. My sister got one of the nearby pool sticks out of my closet, winking at me. "Honey, what's-GUUUUUHHHH!!!" Carla jammed the stick right in Leslie's bellybutton, pushing it in as far as she could. Leslie moaned softly at the new pain, eyes popping open and looking at me with despair. I was frozen. Carla grinned, suddenly twisting the stick around her bellybutton, the flesh twisting to the right, the stick twisting further like a screw, until finally Leslie's belly flesh turned a bright red, and she plucked it out.
Leslie gasped, stomach heaving as Carla pulled her arm back, cocking her fist and shot her straight in the solar plexus, sucking her body back against the wall. "UUUUNGGHHH!!!" Tears started streaming down her face, gritting her teeth as Carla relocated the pool stick, and prodded at my love's stomach in several places, hard. "AAAHHHH!!!" She shrieked over and over again, sweating like hell. Red blotches covered her tanned belly. She wiggled her hips slightly.
"Oh baby, does it hurt?" Carla moved her hand down to Leslie's pussy and squeezed it tightly. I got the biggest hard-on from watching her moan, eyes squeezing shut and open again. I tried to concentrate but couldn't. Carla reached and slammed her again, right in her bellybutton. Her stomach collapsed, body jerking back ad Carla seized the moment and lunged at Leslie's lips, smothering her scream.
"One last thing," Carla whispered, moving back to the kitchen. She came back with my kitchen knife. "Don't worry," she said, " you'll like this." Then drew the knife in a closing circle around Leslie's bellybutton, not harming her until the sharp tip pushed into Leslie's navel flesh. She sliced at it until blood dripped down her skirt. Leslie's didn't scream, squirming her hips as a sickly sweet smile played across her lips. She was masturbating. "There," my sister said, "I'll leave you two alone." She ran out. I moved up to Leslie, embracing her. Licked and kissed her bruises across her belly and face, spooning my tongue in the hot blood around her bellybutton. She moaned slightly as I unhooked her, and what we did after that
This happened my freshman year at NC state. Leslie and I have been married for over four years. We first met when I moved from my home in Italy to North Carolina. I had the dreams of becoming a screenwriter(which has recently happened to me-first optioned screenplay) and she herself was more of the artist type. We met my freshman year in college and everything seemed to click from there on. Let me tell you about Leslie. She's one of those people who could eat all day long and never gain an ounce. Eyes as clear as an Hawaiian ocean, with a curved body and medium sized breasts. Long, straight blonde hair. Through the time we revealed our secrets she began to adapt to my fantasies as well, every day, no matter what the weather or occasion, she wore a crop top that stopped right under her tits, with either a jeans skirt or tight jeans. Looking at her would make your heart stop.
When I first decided to move out of my homeland, Italy, my sister, Carla, was the first to object. Even though she's absolutely gorgeous as well, she's always been one of those extremely cynical people who feel they've got a grudge against the world. Also our town's best fighter. A second degree black belt in Kung Fu, on top of that five years of kickboxing. She's still very fit, with short black hair and big green eyes that would narrow suspiciously at you every time you tried to talk to her. Not exactly the best person to find a friend in, but she'll always be my baby sister, and that's okay to live with.
After two months of dating, I decided it was finally time to tell the family. Which was the furthest thing from their minds, because they were especially suspicious about American people and their culture. But Leslie was adorable. Didn't seem to sink in with them, either. My sister, especially. We would have long talks at night, and she would keep pressing me very personal questions about Leslie, more or less like what I was I was doing with her, or-to her opinion-what she was doing to me. At first I sort of laughed and smiled where needed, saying everything was okay. I don't know what made her decide to ship over here and see for herself. But she's nuts sometimes.
That night we were having a small party at my place. Carla was in town, that much I knew. I didn't know she'd come barging in at the wrong moment. Leslie wore a tight-fitting jeans skirt that rode along her calves, and a white cotton top that stopped under her breasts, revealing her entire, tanned stomach and smooth hips. It was our anniversary, we had those a lot, and she wanted to surprise me fore the occasion. I wasn't disappointed.
It was a little before midnight before I heard someone knocking at the door. Leslie and I were sitting at my couch, talking about life in general, what we'd be doing with soon. It was Carla. Hands on her hips, casting an evil glare in my direction before diverting her attention back to Leslie, stretching out on the couch, the tip of her nipples showing.
"Who is it?" My sister grinned at me. "Let me take quick guess, the American bitch you've been seeing. Why is this is not surprising?"
Before I could shut the door on her she strode in beside me, never taking her eyes off Leslie. Leslie, in turn, snapped up and covered her arms in front of her stomach, blushing.
"Oh hi. Chris didn't mention he was having company." "It's okay," I told her, hugging her before I went to the TV nearby, switching it off, "this is my sister." Quick introductions. Leslie calmed down considerably, lowering her arms. Carla kept looking at her, mouth suddenly falling open when she saw Leslie's exposed belly. "And she dresses like one too," she smiled.
"Slut," she said in Italian. Leslie felt awkward. She put her hand out instead. "Hi, my name is Leslie. I'm Chris's-" she was cut off immediately as Carla kept moving forward, suddenly sticking one of her bony fingers in Leslie's stretched bellybutton. Leslie gasped, eyes blaring but Carla only smiled more, clapping her hand on Leslie's shoulder. From where I stood I couldn't exactly make out what they were saying next but I knew Carla was up to no good. I sighed heavily and went to fix another dinner instead.
It went horrible. No one spoke a word. Leslie kept rubbing her bellybutton where Carla had touched it, and Carla in turn kept grinning at the motion. She suddenly turned back to me. I knew exactly what she was thinking. "Your bitch seems to be pretty cute," she said in clear Italian, "so let's see what she's got." This had happened years ago once with my high school sweetheart. Four of her ribs had been broken and one leg was broken after she accepted a fight with my then young sis. I wasn't about to let it happen again, but she stopped me. "Don't fret, she'll do fine. I kind of like her already. If she can handle it, you will have my blessing. If not, she won't be telling anyone about it." I didn't like it but I agreed when she told me she would leave as soon as it was over. Leslie seemed to jump at the chance. "Anything for you," she winked, striding out to the living room as an half-hour later I cleared the entire room, sitting at one of the nearby couches.
"The point of this game is very simple," my sister said, tying Leslie's wrists together over her head on a chinning bar from my closet. Her top was edging dangerously close to her nipples. "I can hit you as many times as I like, and I can do anything I want to you at all. When you're done, we'll change positions." Leslie nodded meekly, pursing her full lips. My sister's hand slid down her sweaty stomach, lingering around her navel and fingering it. "She'll like it," she said to me. I tightened my hands against the side of the couch. I couldn't handle this, but it turned me on.
"Now close your eyes." She did. My sister got one of the nearby pool sticks out of my closet, winking at me. "Honey, what's-GUUUUUHHHH!!!" Carla jammed the stick right in Leslie's bellybutton, pushing it in as far as she could. Leslie moaned softly at the new pain, eyes popping open and looking at me with despair. I was frozen. Carla grinned, suddenly twisting the stick around her bellybutton, the flesh twisting to the right, the stick twisting further like a screw, until finally Leslie's belly flesh turned a bright red, and she plucked it out.
Leslie gasped, stomach heaving as Carla pulled her arm back, cocking her fist and shot her straight in the solar plexus, sucking her body back against the wall. "UUUUNGGHHH!!!" Tears started streaming down her face, gritting her teeth as Carla relocated the pool stick, and prodded at my love's stomach in several places, hard. "AAAHHHH!!!" She shrieked over and over again, sweating like hell. Red blotches covered her tanned belly. She wiggled her hips slightly.
"Oh baby, does it hurt?" Carla moved her hand down to Leslie's pussy and squeezed it tightly. I got the biggest hard-on from watching her moan, eyes squeezing shut and open again. I tried to concentrate but couldn't. Carla reached and slammed her again, right in her bellybutton. Her stomach collapsed, body jerking back ad Carla seized the moment and lunged at Leslie's lips, smothering her scream.
"One last thing," Carla whispered, moving back to the kitchen. She came back with my kitchen knife. "Don't worry," she said, " you'll like this." Then drew the knife in a closing circle around Leslie's bellybutton, not harming her until the sharp tip pushed into Leslie's navel flesh. She sliced at it until blood dripped down her skirt. Leslie's didn't scream, squirming her hips as a sickly sweet smile played across her lips. She was masturbating. "There," my sister said, "I'll leave you two alone." She ran out. I moved up to Leslie, embracing her. Licked and kissed her bruises across her belly and face, spooning my tongue in the hot blood around her bellybutton. She moaned slightly as I unhooked her, and what we did after that