A short tale of frotteurism

Fanny’s bottom was soft and pliant under the graceless
pressure of Don’s hand, and she fell quite silent when
Don began to touch her there, her silence amounting, in
his simple mind, to permission. In any case her pantied
ass-flesh was so supple and alluring that the childlike
Don could not resist his drive to possess the young ass
fully once he came into contact with it, and he reached
his hands around to her buttocks and squeezed them both
firmly. He dug his fingers so hard into them, in fact,
that the hapless Fanny squealed and bounced on her
heels, not in pain but startled at how rudely Don was
claiming her, without giving a single thought to her
pride or privacy.

“Feel your butt,” he said suavely. His groping, clumsy
fingers played lightly over the goosepimpled flesh of
her ass. He tested the fabric of her silk panties
between his thumb and forefinger. The panties were
smooth as cream, and their silver fabric shimmered in
the room’s light. As he toyed with the panties he
rubbed her buttock, up and down. It was cool to the
touch.

She had been stripped of her jeans quite some time
before and had been mostly nude from the waist down for
more than an hour, her ass bare except for her
underthings, unprotected from the room’s chilly
breezes. As he rubbed her ass vigorously it began to
warm beneath his touch.

Fanny obligingly leaned forward and propped her hands
on the table in front of her. This allowed him better
reach to her backside, and now that her ass stuck out a
bit from the edge of the table its slopes and the
crevasse between them formed an invitation to Don’s
swelling penis, and he decided then that he would
pleasure himself on Fanny by stroking his cock in this
fold between her buttocks until he squirted come on her
silken panties. He had to deny himself the luxury of
penetrating the young girl’s body because his masters,
and hers, had forbidden him from allowing her any
pleasure in this encounter.

This was fine. He didn’t care about her pleasure. He
took firm hold of her ass-cheeks and pressed them
together, delighting in the sight of her panties
gathering and folding in the furrow between them. His
breath began to quicken. Fanny lowered her head, the
ends of her blonde hair tracing along her spine. She
shifted her weight from one foot to the other and her
buttocks sidled slightly in the cradle of Don’s greedy
hands.

“You’re my dolly,” said Don childishly. “I’m going to
hump your butt like I do my pillows when I get hard
down there.”

“I’m a maid,” Fanny responded, not seductively-matter-
of-factly, explaining the situation to Don, who was
quite simple about these things. “You’re allowed to do
whatever you like to me. I won’t stop you.”

“I can’t make you feel good,” Don corrected. He smiled
with pride for having remembered this.

“I’m not allowed to stop anyone from doing whatever
they want to me,” Fanny said.

Don slid his hands up Fanny’s slender back and reached
around her ribs to cup her breasts in his palms. It
surprised him how light they were, light and bouncy and
tender; he knew that to squeeze them too hard would
hurt her but to gently knead them made the tips of his
fingers tingle. He pressed his pelvis against her ass,
shoved the hard shaft of his cock into the meaty slope
of one of her buttocks. He was so anxious now,
impatient to shoot his sperm onto Fanny’s soft, clean
skin.

He made a quick and undignified move to unsnap and
unzip his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles
while Fanny waited almost indifferently to bring him to
the pinnacle of pleasure simply by giving her flesh
passively to him. When he bent over to lower his jeans
down his hirsute legs Don realized for the first time
the magnitude of his good fortune, for here was Fanny’s
bottom directly in front of his face, jiggling slightly
as she shifted her weight again.

Her panties gathered in the fold of her ass, exposing
past their hem a delicate tan line making its way
diagonally along the slope of her bottom-cheeks. They
were beaded with perspiration from Don’s palm. It was
cool enough that portions of her bottom had broken out
in gooseflesh.

Don paused to poke his nose into the valley between her
cheeks and deposit a few sniffs there: her ass smelled
like perfume, floral, an ass bouquet. The satin of her
panties was thin enough to expose a hint of the tan
flesh beneath them. A wave of delirious pleasure
momentarily crippled Don’s brain at having Fanny’s
bottom fill his field of vision; he felt that her ass
was the only thing in the world.

He ran his tongue along the peak of one of Fanny’s
buttocks. Her bottom was dry, he had to pull his tongue
over her skin, but when he licked the same portion of
her bottom again his spit had made it slick. He gripped
her thighs and began to lick her bottom hungrily. He
was angry with lust. He bit her at the middle of her
buttock, where the flesh was most ample, and — liking
the way she caught on her breath and let a high-
pitched, helpless gasp — he kept a moderate pressure
on for a few moments, gauging to ease or harden the
force of the bite by listening to her quick, shallow
breath, or measuring the trembling tension that rippled
through her thighs. In this way he kept her at the edge
of discomfort, and she did not move or resist.

“Do you like it when I bite you?” he asked her ass when
he was done. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“No,” Fanny said. “Please. It hurts.”

A crimson sore the shape of a football, pocked with
tooth marks, marred the surface of her ass. Don raised
his mouth to it, and fumbled a moment to fit his teeth
back into the marks that the had left. Then he bit her
again, more gently this time, on the tender skin. Once
more poor Fanny caught on her breath, and squirmed
slightly to try and wiggle her bottom away from Don’s
petty torments.

“Do you like it when I bite you?” he asked. “Do you
want me to do it again?”

“Y-yes?” Fanny stammered, unsure what response Don
wanted. Don cupped her other buttock in his hand, moved
his head to it while he pinched it to gather its flesh
up, then gradually dug his teeth into the fresh ass-
cheek. Just as the pressure began and intensified Fanny
sighed in apprehension, then again she started and
squirmed as pain rippled through her, blossomed across
the soft surface of her bottom like a firestorm.

“Please…” she said. Her fragility fascinated Don, her
body’s easy capacity to experience and tolerate pain,
the thin fabric of her panties, the insubstantial
softness of her limbs and the frail mewlings of her
breath.

His cock was so hard and unyielding it felt like it
might burst in a froth of boiling steam. Such a pretty
little teenage flower, f****d by her weakness and her
beauty to trust a cruel and uncaring world, and unable
to resist a villain like Don when his desires turned to
her, a body stamped “victim” by its own tininess.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said at
last, timidly.

“I’ll do what I want. You can’t stop me. What you want
doesn’t matter. I’ll bite you if I want, just to show
you that I can do anything to you.”

“I can’t stop you,” said Fanny. “I can only ask you to
be kind to me.”

Don stood upright and gripped the base of his cock. He
pressed his bare cock against Fanny’s bottom, first
lightly, relishing the cool silk of the panties and the
way they caused a tingling in him. It was a tingling
that intensified when he looked at her ass, or when he
looked at the back of her head and imagined her round
face turned up in a pout as she allowed him to use her
for his own pleasure. She was so close.

He leaned forward and smelled her blonde hair — it
bore the punchy scent of shampoo and of perfume that
had filtered up from her neck. He held a length of her
hair against his lips as his cock swelled to fill the
crack of her bottom, and her buttocks pressed warmly
against the front of his hips.

He looked down; his cock had vanished into her warm
ass-fold, and her bottom-cheeks wrinkled as he squeezed
his pelvis against them. But when he thrust his pelvis
forward the head of his cock peeked through the crest
of her silver panties, accompanied by a shuddering wave
of pleasure that stimulated his midsection like a
kaleidoscope of kisses.

Don gripped Fanny’s hips firmly and stroked his cock
back and forth in the furrow of her ass with a quick
rhythm. In a matter of seconds a tide of pleasure took
him to another world, and he stared fixedly at the
gentle countermotion of her bottom-cheeks as his hips
pressed against them then pulled away. Her panties
rubbed at the tip of his penis with each stroke, near
the small of her back, and the inside of her buttocks
brought an easy, delicious friction against his dick-
sides.

He cared about nothing but the feel of her ass against
his penis. He pressed against her hard enough to force
the fronts of her legs against the edge of the
tabletop, but he liked this because it held her bottom
fast. Semen swam in his testicles, rose pulsing through
the shaft of his cock like thermometer mercury, getting
higher with each pulse.

Her breath quickened — not because of any pleasure she
felt, but because of apprehension, of feeling the
hardened knob pistoning between her bottom-cheeks, and
wondering how powerful the explosion would be when the
pent-up desires shot from it.

“That’s so good,” Don groaned. “Such a stupid girl,
such a pretty, soft butt.” He worked his cock harder.
“Such a soft butt,” he said again, and smacked his
lips. “Pretty butt, all mine.”

“Please fuck me, Don,” Fanny said simply. “Everyone
toys with me, but no one will ever fuck me.”

But Don ignored her; she looked so beautiful bent over
the table, as though she bore a great weight on her
shoulders, the burden of satisfying the desires of
others while hers were left neglected, over and over
again servicing countless men with her mouth, with her
hands, and now with the shape of her body, as the need
within her escalated beyond tolerance, beyond arousal,
nymphomania, psychosis — but still she presented
herself to him, cowed, with lowered head, faceless.

“Please fuck me.”

But Don could imagine nothing worse than a moment’s
abatement of his pleasure, it had swept him away and
robbed all of his control, he could not pause even long
enough to strip Fanny of her panties and find his way
inside of her…

“Please…”

“Pretty butt,” he grunted, then his vision went and a
volley of semen erupted from his cock. He hunkered down
to burrow his organ in the fold of Fanny’s ass and his
hips twitched rhythmically as he dampened the crotch of
Fanny’s panties with thick wads of sperm. Her soft, wet
bottom. He moved his hips from side to side and rapidly
thrust his cock back and forth against her smooth
panties, ejecting every last dribble of sticky come
onto her placid, waiting body. Her ass jiggled.

Finally he slowed. His cock was soaked in come, Fanny’s
bottom was dark with it. When he pulled away from her
strings of sperm bubbled from her speckled ass.
“Humping you is like squashing a bug,” he said with
delight.

“Fuck me,” she said, knowing now that it was hopeless,
that he had satisfied himself and would soon be limp.
He massaged the clear cream into her bottom-cheeks. The
salty seafood smell of jism wafted in her nostrils.
Maybe sometime Fanny would get fucked, but it would not
be today.