Edge of Extasy: X is for Xanthe Part One

Edge of Extasy

X is for Xanthe Part 1

By Issa Cherry

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Issa
Cherry

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-9924070-0-1

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This book is a work of fiction and any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or
locales are purely coincidental.

Adult Reading Material

Disclaimer: The material in this book is for
mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content. It is
intended for those 18 and older.

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Table of
Contents

Edge of Extasy

What Xanthe Did Next

A Very Big Mistake

About the author Issa Cherry

Edge of Extasy

‘This lace feels so soft!’

The flimsy white fabric of my bodice gently
constricted against my breasts.

‘But I love the touch of leather too!’

I moaned at the feel of the strap between my
thighs. It was hard and unforgiving.

Standing with my legs apart with one arm in
front of my body and the other behind. My hands clench each end of
the leather belt threaded between my legs. Swaying my arms back and
forth with increasing speed roughly against my moist slit, I am
almost there.

‘I am coming!’

With two more rubs of the belt I orgasm. The
release is merciful and over all too quickly. My last cries of
pleasure echo around the stone of the cellar walls. Collapsing back
onto the cold reality of satin pillows, I lay for a moment,
trailing my fingers seductively across my lips. Little is left of
the deep red lipstick that I had applied so carefully earlier.

‘That’s all for tonight!’

The announcement is delivered in the
lustiest tones I can muster, before climbing down from the stone
bench that serves as my makeshift stage. Within three paces I reach
the computer and shut down the Webcam.

My name is Xanthe. I have a sexual secret: I
have never been able to climax with a man.

Believe me, I have tried. I even slept with
a few women just to make sure it wasn’t a case that I needed to
release my inner-lesbian. All that told me was that it was men I
hungered for: testosterone laden, Adam’s apple bearing,
cock-thrusting males. I want them. I hunger for them. I desire
them. Yet the moment they touch me, I turn cold. No man has ever
managed to light that fire from within me. Every sexual encounter
with a male has left me frustrated.

Around a year ago after my last awkward
sexual encounter, I decided to find other ways to satisfy my urges.
My live Webcam show evolved from my desire to avoid awkward gropes
in the dark with men who cannot stoke my amour.

Using my talents from my day job as a
librarian, I began researching sexual fantasies and wondered if
turning on anonymous men, ones who had not been a disappointment
sexually, might be the key. I decided to give it one try. Setting
up a secure Webpage that could not be traced back to me, I joined
some adult Websites and streamed my first broadcast live. I was a
bit nervous at first, reciting some of my most favourite sensual
lines from English literature while I masturbated using various sex
toys. It was a very amateur effort, but it did the trick.

‘You’re really hot!’ The private messages
started arriving minutes after I finished my first broadcast.

‘I jacked off watching you!’ This meant
success to me! I had managed to get my rocks off and made a few
males happy at the same time. I was hooked.

‘When’s your next show?’ they asked.

Very soon I was making three broadcasts a
week. I would work late, wait for the library to close and for my
staff to go home. Then I would grab my laptop and head back to the
original nineteenth century part of the building. The area was off
limits to students and staff alike. As chief librarian I hold a
master key to the area below. Downstairs is a hidden oasis
forgotten by everyone: including campus security. Unlocking the
door at the end of a narrow vestibule, I escaped into my secret
world. Descending the stone stairs to the large cellar space,
familiar tingles would begin to grow. My excitement far exceeded
the anticipation I once felt before a physical rendezvous with a
man.

From deep within the crevices of the
Victorian gothic architecture of the college’s library building I
would drag out the rest of my private show time ‘kit’ of assorted
satin pillows and cushions, lingerie, and scarves. I used a set of
small portable theatre lights to illuminate my small performance
stage. Oh yes, and various phallus substitutes to make the show
extra exciting!

I chose the setting because it was just
perfect: at night it looked like it could be the dungeon of a real
English castle, where I liked to imagine the resident Lord held me
captive with one purpose in mind: to ravage me endlessly. Good and
hard!

Alas, I was left with the less mysterious
location of a liberal arts college on the northeast coast of the
United States. I did my very best to make up for a distinct lack of
tall dark strangers with a lusty glint in their eye.

The thrill of using a public building for my
own secret sensuous purposes also raised my excitement levels. I
had covered my tracks well so, my privacy was not at risk. Despite
using advanced computer security, the thought of the College Board
finding out gave me even more excitement. Maybe one of them had
even gotten hard over the sight of me deep throating a long
cucumber? I would try not to smile over the memory of that secret
thought each time I attended senior staff meetings with Board
members present.

To make doubly sure my anonymity was
assured, I removed my glasses, let my long chestnut hair loose from
my trademarked chignon and applied heavy makeup. Combined with the
use of low lighting, I made sure my audience only saw what they
needed to see!

Just when my imagination grew tired, I would
find new ways to keep my Web shows exciting. Recently that
excitement came in the form of Dr Damon, a new academic on campus.
Tall, dark and as distracted as all hell: he helped fuel my
fantasies with a vitality not experienced recently. I just had to
remember to never shout out ‘Oh Doctor!’ as I came, thanks to vivid
thoughts of caressing his hard cock with my tongue before being
fucked at his leisure.

Shivering slightly at the thought of him, I
suspected new the doctor was going to be good for several months’
worth of live broadcasts at least! I shivered again and realised it
was the cold of the cellar hitting my body as it cooled down after
the excitement of my latest show. Using this underground location
as my performance space had its drawbacks: the cold was one of
them. I started to dress quickly. Slipping my lace panties back on
over my stockinged legs I thought I heard a noise.

‘That better not be a mouse scampering about
back there!’ I said out loud as if to ward off the chances of
rodent invasion.

The risk of encountering one of the stray
mice that occupied the many crevices of these old walls was about
the only danger I had feared in my efforts. My intrepid efforts to
take my sexual pleasure to a whole new level of satisfaction were
not without its risks.

Ignoring my fear of mice the best I could, I
went about my usual post-Webcast ritual of tidying up. Gathering up
my collection of assorted props that were invariably strewn about
while I lost myself in my broadcasted search for the ultimate
sexual gratification.

A minute later there was another sound. It
came from the same direction of the earlier noise, but clearly had
a heavier foot fall than any furry rodent.

‘Who’s there? Is somebody there?’ I demanded
out loud as my heart raced.

The thought someone had been lurking back in
the dark recesses of this large cellar watching me all this time,
both terrifying and delicious at the same time.

Immediately conscious of my near half
nakedness, I raised my forearms across my breasts, which were
clearly visible through the flimsy lace of my bodice.

‘Suddenly coy are we, Xanthe?’ A deep voice
spoke from the shadows towards the south corner of the cellar.

‘Wh-who gave you permission to be here?’ I
stuttered as suddenly I could see the silhouette of a tall male
figure emerging out of the darkness.

‘I should be asking you the same question,
Xanthe.’

He spoke as he shone a bright beam from a
flashlight directly into my face. Lifting my hands instinctively up
to shield my eyes, my breasts fell free behind their lacy veil.
‘That’s better!’ he drawled.

‘What do you want? Why are you here?’

My mind raced. Was I about to be outed by
campus security? Maybe I was about to be murdered on the spot by an
axe-yielding maniac? Nothing good could come of this, I was
certain.

‘I am not going to hurt you, if that is what
you are worried about, Xanthe?’

He spoke as he moved another couple of paces
before continuing:

‘Not unless you want me to, Xanthe.’

The way he spoke, the way he said my name
was restrained but authoritative.

‘Now turn around and face the bench’ he
ordered. Something in his voice told me I should comply.

Standing with my back to him, he came
closer. So close that I could feel his breath to the side of my
face as I attempted to turn my head to look in his direction.

‘Do not turn around, Xanthe’ he whispered
only inches from my left ear. A potent mix of fear and anticipation
spread through my body.

‘Look, whatever it is you are going to do,
can you just get it over and done with?’ I attempted to bluff.

‘What? Spoil all the fun by rushing, Xanthe?
No wonder you are left with trying to fulfil your own desires.’

He was so close that a quick elbow to his
stomach would surely wind him and give me my chance to escape, but
I seemed to have become frozen to the spot.

‘What is it you want?’ my head was spinning
while my body threatened to betray me by wanting the touch of this
stranger.

‘This is not about what I want, Xanthe. Now
put your hands on the bench and stand with your feet shoulder width
apart.’

Why should I take orders from a stranger? My
reasoning had gone out the window and been replaced with a budding
sense of wantonness.

‘Good girl’ he drawled as I complied with
his orders. ‘Tell me: do you want me to touch you Xanthe?’

‘Yes!’ I rasped.

‘I will touch you. If you attempt to turn
around I will end this immediately. Do you understand, Xanthe?’

‘Yes. I understand.’

His use of my name had me mesmerized.

I heard sounds. The change of direction from
the beam of light told me he had put down the flashlight. I heard
the sound of him removing clothing. In the coldness of the cellar,
my partially naked back suddenly felt the warmth of a firm male
torso pressing into it.

‘You must trust me Xanthe.’

Muscled arms appeared at my front, wrapping
around me firmly. His hands felt their way slowly around my waist
before withdrawing. I was pinned between the heavy stone bench and
the rock solid feel of his body. Denim jeans touched against my
buttocks keeping me from the promise of what lay within their
confines.

‘Do you trust me, Xanthe?’

‘Yes!’ my response leapt without hesitation
from my mouth as those hands reappeared holding what I instantly
recognised to be one of my own satin scarves.

‘I can’t help but notice you like satin,’ he
said as he held the scarf tautly across my body and dragged it
roughly up the length of my torso. He then yanked it over my
breasts causing them to be lifted skyward before dropping with a
bounce afterwards. My nipples stood erect as a result of having the
material flicked over them.