A story about a bionic finger and two women
“But Dave, your finger works fine. You have enough
feeling in it to please any woman,” claimed Mary.
“Believe me, we appreciate the real thing. So, why try
something artificial, something plastic?”
Dave smoldered. He had planned this out, and he didn’t
want to have to justify it. “Look, this is important to
me. I don’t trust all the ‘everything is going to be
alright’ stuff – that’s what they said when I took my
hand in originally, then they sewed it up wrong. I
don’t need to say that having to have it re-cut and
nerves retied and losing some feeling in my fingers has
been a pain.”
“Yes, I know,” said Mary, “I’m your therapist,
remember? We’ve been working on it for weeks, but it’s
my job to know what has to be done and what doesn’t
have to be done. You just don’t need anything more than
you’ve got to please a woman – except a better
attitude!”
“Bitch,” thought Dave, who said, “I’m sure you’re
right, but part of improving my attitude is my being
sure that things are going to go right. Anyway, there’s
no need for you to be involved at all. I’ve already
done the inventing – I just want to try it out.”
“So you’re going to a bar to pick up some woman you
don’t even know?” asked Mary. “Sounds like a recipe for
disaster to me, and I’m not about to have your progress
set back.”
Impasse.
“Actually,” smiled Dave, “I thought I’d try a coffee
house. There’s one near the campus.”
The mention of the campus reminded Mary of her younger
sister, Joan. “Dave, you don’t really need to have sex
to try this out, right?”
“Well, no,” mused Dave, “but it helps to practice the
way you plan to play.” Bashful grin.
“I’m thinking that you could give my sister a back rub
or something. That’ll be all you need to tell whether
it works. You could use our apartment – I’d be right
there to help with any problems.”
“That’ll suck,” thought Dave. “Well, I don’t think
that’s quite the same…”
Mary sensed the drawback. “You have some fantasy about
this, don’t you? Some vision of perfect sex.”
Dave was defensive. “I just hope things work out.” He
saw his excuse. “They certainly aren’t going to work
out with your sister, especially with you in the room!”
Mary was hurt. “My little sister is a lovely young
woman, as you know. I wouldn’t interfere at all. I
won’t say a word unless you ask. Promise.”
Actually, Dave was now getting a little worried that
his fantasy about the pick-up was a little far-fetched.
Maybe Joan was a better idea. She had looked lovely and
friendly when she’d dropped by during therapy one day.
A back rub would do fine. “Okay,” he said.
“Good,” replied Mary, “let me give Joan a call to let
her know we’re coming. Then I’ll close up here.”
While he waited for Mary, Dave wondered whether his
daydream was as unrealistic as it seemed when talking
to Mary. He had designed the finger as a pleasure tool.
It first gave a cool sense to the skin, then a tingle,
then a feeling of a slow scratch. After that, the
pressure started, easing with warmth, as it went
penetratingly deep.
Finally, the waves rippled through muscles and later
the skin. Back to the start. Dave knew it worked
because he’d tried it on his arm. But were women
different? Less muscle, thicker fat layer – would it
work right? If it did, no woman would ever again drop
him like Denise had after his accident.
Mary got them into the car and onto the Interstate. Why
did men think they should use machines? As if women
were toys with buttons you pushed. The last few years,
the guys she’d dated just – if they wanted anything
besides getting their rocks off – tried some technique
they were sure would work.
Every one left her cold. Why couldn’t they be human,
like women? Mary thought of the one time she’d come, in
high school with Betty – well, actually, after Betty
had gone back to sleep. Connected, natural.
As she thought that word, Mary nervously turned her
mind to something else.
Joan. A lovely thing. Her baby sister. Mary tried to
protect her. It had been Mary whose behind got pinched
purple as a coffee shop waitress while she took classes
at a commercial college, earning her degree as a
therapist. Now Joan, with her looks and brains, could
do it right, going to college while staying with Mary.
Joan thought about the call from Mary. A guy coming
home with her. Joan tried to remember him – Mary said
they’d met – but she couldn’t. At this point, just
about any guy was a novelty. School and her work study
job didn’t leave much time, and living with Mary didn’t
leave many opportunities to meet guys. She owed Mary so
much, yet she wished they would go out more, with a
younger, college-age crowd. Anyway, Mary said Dave was
in his early twenties.
“Joan, this is Dave,” said Mary, “Dave, Joan. As I said
on the phone, we want to do some therapy here and we
need your help Joan.” Mary giggled. “We need your back
for a back rub.”
Joan was startled. “You want to give me a back rub,
Mary?”
“No,” said Dave, “Not Mary. I want to give you a back
rub. Where’s a good place to lay down here?”
“Well, my bedroom, I suppose,” answered Joan, with a
glance at Mary, who nodded. “Excuse the mess,” she
said, glad that she’d cleaned up some before they’d
arrived. Dave looked okay, nice, like he knew what he
was doing.
“Okay, Joan, can you remove your blouse and lay down?”
Dave nodded toward the bed. Joan checked with her big
sister, then, with some embarrassment, took off her
blouse and laid down on her stomach.
Dave sat next to her and unhooked her bra. “It’s okay,”
said Mary. Dave glared at Mary and put his finger to
his lips. She’d forgotten to keep quiet already!
Joan relaxed. Mary was chaperoning. She could use a
back rub. In fact, she was curious. She’d never had a
back rub from a guy. After Mary left home, her parents
kept Joan on a very short leash. Dates were few, sex
non-existent, except for a few tentative finger
sessions.
Dave put on the finger. He started out at her neck,
pressing in lightly at the bone, letting up, then
moving down an inch and pressing again. Just imagining
the effect was getting him hard.
With the first push Joan let out a little moan. It was
so nice to be touched. She and Mary never touched. When
the tingle began Joan was surprised. Whatever this
therapy was, it certainly worked! As the warmth settled
through her neck, Joan softened, then the waves brought
her up tighter, ready when the finger moved down and
the cycle started again. Joan luxuriated in the
sensation. This was like a billion-dollar massage.
“Oaoum,” she said as Dave’s finger went on to a new
spot. Now she could anticipate what it would feel like.
And it did. Soon she was eager for the next sensation
to begin, for the feelings to run together. But Dave’s
finger kept on down her back at a steady pace, stately,
almost teasingly so.
Dave was elated inside. He could feel Joan’s
responsiveness. He was making her moan. Her back moved
almost as if begging for his finger, He gave each
measure its due, not rushing it. He could bring her
off, he’d bet. “She’s wet, I’m sure,” he thought to
himself. “Wait until I go lower.”
Mary watched, getting tense. At the edge of her
consciousness, she knew her breasts were feeling heavy.
She wanted to interfere, to stop it, but she’d promised
Dave to stay out. Who would have thought that a back
rub would be so sensual? Joan was almost wanton the way
she enjoyed it.
As the finger moved slowly down to the base of her
back, setting off riots of sensation at each spot it
touched, Joan began to drift, lost in her senses. there
was nothing but her back, loved into openness like a
flower called to the sunlight. She arched backwards
toward the finger, but it withdrew. She had to have
more, faster. Each spot developed, a frontier of
tingles and waves and warm, and nerves from the old
spots sent down messages of joy and connection.
Dave dropped his finger lower, under the shorts, onto
Joan’s buttock, and pushed in. Would it work as well on
fat? Yes, judging by Joan’s reaction, a slow wriggling
of her behind. He went down another inch, touching the
top of her crack. Joan moaned. Another inch, teasing
then pressing into the top of the crack. Joan arched up
again and Dave withdrew his finger. She arched further,
and Dave dropped down another inch and pushed, just
above the anus. He could smell Joan’s arousal.
Mary was stunned. Her sister was lewdly seeking the
finger. She saw Joan unzip her shorts and push the
shorts and panties down, wriggling and moaning and
humping. With one hand, Dave took her penis out of his
pants. Mary bit her lip and involuntarily rubbed her
crotch. When she became aware of what she was doing,
Mary let out a squeak. She had to stop this! She rushed
over to Dave, uncertain what to do. Without thinking,
she plunged her mouth over Dave’s cock and began
bobbing her head and licking.
Dave wanted to stop Mary but couldn’t. He was so
excited from bringing Joan to a frenzy that he couldn’t
resist the mouth on his dick, especially when Mary
tweaked his nipple with her fingers. Dave quickly blew
his wad into Mary’s mouth.
“Don’t stop! Please!” cried Joan as Dave relaxed, his
finger falling away from her bottom. “Don’t leave me
hung up.”
Mary looked over and saw Joan’s pussy, lips pulling in
and pushing out. She groaned and plunged her face in.
Biting. Licking. Lipping. Drilling in. Circling with
her tongue. All her fantasies.
Joan bucked and clamped her thighs around Mary’s head.
Mary’s tongue went into high speed, lapping Joan’s
clitoris. Joan stiffened. Mary plunged her fingers deep
into Joan’s cunt, inadvertently rupturing Joan’s
maidenhead. Joan cried out and pulled Mary to her. Mary
knew something was wrong, that she should stop, but she
was too excited.
Dave saw the blood on Mary’s fingers as they came out
to plunge in again. He tried to pull Mary away, but she
clung to Joan, tongue to clit. Dave was furious, first
at being robbed of his conquest and now because he was
worried that Joan was hurt. He pushed hard at Mary’s
back. Nothing changed.
“Leave her alone! Leave your sister alone,” shouted
Dave, thumping Mary on her ribs with his palms.
Mary stopped and collapsed on her side, crying. Dave
stopped hitting her and knelt by Joan.
Joan was all right. Joan was beatific. Joan felt a
surge of love for Mary and for Dave. She pulled Dave
down next to her. “Please, what you two did for me was
wonderful.”
Dave was still concerned. “Are you okay? I mean,
inside?” Joan nodded.
“Just an overdue little operation,” she said. “But I am
sore.”
Mary was crying quietly. Joan looked at her and asked
Dave, “Couldn’t you do for her what you did for me? Use
whatever it was? Please, she’s unhappy and frustrated.”
Joan put her arm around Mary.
Dave sensed the potential, but he was still upset at
Mary. “Okay, but you have to help – and I’m not letting
her off the hook for what she did to you. Do what I
say.” Joan nodded.
Mary was all torn up and confused. She couldn’t control
her feelings of shame, of illicit desire and deeds –
before a stranger, yet! Mary was still too aroused to
think clearly, and her feelings were all a jumble of
hope and despair. She heard Joan about the finger,
which excited her, but she was repelled by the whole
idea.
Dave pushed through her haze. “Take off your clothes,
Mary, and pay for your behavior.” As he said this, he
touched her face with the finger and she felt a series
of sensations she couldn’t even follow. Dave waited
until she had discarded her top. “Now the skirt,” he
said, pressing her upper arm with his finger.
Confused by the feelings produced by Dave’s finger on
her arm, Mary complied, then waited. Dave touched her
chest above her bra. “Take off the bra and panties.”
Mary did. Dave ran the finger lightly down her front,
creating a bewildering sequence of sensations. “Lean
forward on the bed, rest on your forearms.”
Mary was almost in a trance. Resting on her arms, she
felt Dave’s finger on her thigh, rising slowly toward
her crotch.
“Whatever your intentions, Mary, that was an evil thing
you did to me – and then slobbering over your sister. I
think a little penance is in order.”
Dave reached under and squeezed her nipple, hard then
harder, stroking her thigh with the finger. The
feelings broke through Mary’s haze. The hard, dull ache
in her nipple with a little electric wire to her
clitoris. And her thigh! Now ripples, now tingles, now
flashes. Mary’s eyes grew wide.
Joan crawled over and kissed Mary. “It’s all right.
It’s okay. Just be yourself. Don’t worry. I love you.”
She squeezed softly on Mary’s other breast. When Dave
release the nipple, Joan put it in her mouth, sucking
and lapping slowly. Mary was becoming frantic with
sensation, for Dave had changed and was pinching her
ass as he stroked her thighs. Mean little nips, like
pepper on the salad of sensations between her legs.
“Joan, get under her and do for her what she did for
you,” said Dave. Joan obeyed, putting her head between
Mary’s thighs and her legs around Mary’s arms and head.
Joan pulled Mary down to her and began licking the
thighs as they came down.
Mary resisted at first, then gave way as Dave pushed
down. Joan’s tongue felt so gentle and quiet after the
finger. Mary put her arms around Joan’s legs and rested
her head and Joan’s mound.
Dave stroked along Mary’s box, up to the anus. He
rested his finger there.
“One last little penance, Mary, and that’s for being
snotty about my finger.” He began slapping Mary’s
buttocks with his left hand. Mary, at sea in too many
stimuli, began lapping Joan’s cunt. Joan stopping her
own licking long enough to say “Yes, please, more.”
Joan could see her sister’s ass bounce above her with
each slap. Then Mary would grind her pussy in Joan’s
face, eager for relief. Joan reached up and a some
light slaps of her own. Spanking her older sister! Joan
rubbed her breasts up against Mary.
The slaps didn’t really do much for Mary, one way or
the other. But the idea did. She was being spanked, and
it was for being naughty. Like with Betty in high
school. The image of a flushed Betty came to mind.
Joan’s extra spanks added urgency to Mary’s excitement.
Still slapping, erratically, Dave pushed his finger a
little into Mary’s ass. She groaned into her sister’s
snatch. She pushed her ass back against his finger.
Deeper. Mary began jerking back, anxious to get higher
and faster, afraid it would go away. Dave plunged his
finger in, and out, and in. Within a minute, Mary
climaxed in a cross, arms out and back, legs clamped
around Joan’s head. She shrieked for forty seconds.
Dave kept his finger still. Mary collapsed, limp.
Dave turned her over. Her eyes had rolled up. God. Joan
pulled on his cock, whimpering. He said “I’m going to
fuck you.” He knelt between her legs, inserting the
digits of his left hand while he put his covered finger
on Joan’s breast. Joan jumped as his hand went in. She
was very sore. Dave, remembering her wound, withdrew
from her cunt, keeping the finger on her breast. Joan
relaxed to his finger, knowing that she would be able
to come.
With his left hand, Dave put his wet, bloody finger
into her ass, easing up and rotating a bit, getting
Joan used to the size and sensation. Joan tensed a bit,
then rotated her hip. His right hand finger went slowly
up to her face, down to her other breast, to her
stomach, to her pubic bone, resting on the hair. Joan
began stretching and pushing herself at him. Dave eased
his fingers around and up in her ass, stroking at her
mound with his covered finger.
He wanted to fuck her in the ass. How to lubricate his
cock without hurting her? He didn’t think a virgin
would have any lube around the place. Mary was still
too far gone to ask. Mary. Dave moved over to Mary and
eased his prick into her. She didn’t stir. Like fucking
a dummy.
Dave withdrew and placed his cock against Joan’s
asshole. As he diddled her clitoris with his finger,
she rose to meet him and he pressed into her ass.
Slowly, in with the cock, around with the finger.
“Yes,” she said, “do me.”
Joan felt the big push, like a turd going in reverse,
but the main action was her clitoris, which was going
off like a roman candle – shots of brilliant color, one
after another. Then the prick steadily came up her ass
and Dave came down on top of her, only his finger
between them. As her clit sang, her brown ring squeezed
on the intruder, tensing only to be shaken out again by
the tingling from her front. A nervous tic began under
Joan’s eye.
Dave began to pump as his finger flicked back and forth
over her clit. The pressure on his cock was marvelous.
The finger was touching both of them as his stomach
pressed into her pubic bone. He could feel the tingle
at the base of his cock. He’d never last long at this
rate. Waves hit him and he began to pump furiously into
Joan’s ass. Dave groaned.
Joan began laughing uncontrollably, thrusting up to
meet his finger and back to impale herself on his cock.
As Dave arched back into his final pump, Joan began
pissing, then she came.
#story #bionic #finger #women