The Resurrection of Anastasia Pt. 01

It seems that most of my stories tend to follow convention with a slow beginning, a logical progression and, hopefully, a happy ending, if you'll excuse the pun. As something of a reward for my readers' usual patience - or my lack thereof - I will abandon that approach and start, wham bam, in the middle of this one right now...

*****

Once Anastasia's leotard straps were freed from her shoulders, the headphones fitted over her ears, and her wrists bound to the kitchen table, I removed my remaining clothes and loosely tied her ankles to their respective table legs.

Standing back to admire her perfect ass in the sheer material I debated whether to pull it down or whether to leave it in place. In place, I decided for now, because bound like this, I could do whatever I wanted at any time i felt like it.

I pressed "Play" on her device and she began to repeat the phrases as her lesson progressed...

"Hola, Buenas tardes, Buenas noches, ¿Cómo está usted?, ¿Cómo estás?, ¿Qué tal?" She repeated as she was being instructed in this review portion of her Basic Spanish language course.

I considered leaving her there for a while - with or without some little toy in her pussy or ass - but I was exceptionally horny and I wanted some urgent relief. Watching her over the last thirty minutes or so had had its expected effects on my perverted co-conspirators: my greedy cock and his neighbor, the balls.

Nastya always sweated luxuriously during her exercise programs and there was a sheen of it visible on her perfect thighs. Perfect thighs, perfect ass, perfect tits, perfect tummy, perfect legs, perfect pussy, perfect asshole - there was no equally suitable word than "perfect" for all the parts of Nastya in which I was interested. Even her "normal", "pretty", or "cute" face was perfectly suited to my perverted purposes. It had the unique beauty of youth while not attracting the undue attention of others or, God forbid, rivals.

I bent down and stuck my nose between her well-presented buttocks. Her body and her voice flinched immediately but she well knew to continue her lesson...

"Con permiso, Disculpe, Perdón..." she continued, not knowing of course if she was due for a spanking, a fucking, or some other new depravity that I deigned to inflict on her.

But today was to be straightforward. I inhaled the scent of her moist and sweaty pussy. As usual she was more than a little aroused by the whole process. As usual there was no unpleasant odor from her ass and, had I been inclined I would not have hesitated to rim her deeply with my tongue without any additional preparation. Instead, however, I just revealed in her commingled scents for many seconds before licking a few irresistible droplets of sweat from her nearest ass cheek. Sweet Russian salt was my favorite dichotomy.

My cock was fully hard at this point as I straightened up behind her. I began to run him up and down between her lycra-clad butt cheeks. Perhaps cotton or silk might be better suited to this activity, I reflected, but, if I didn't speed up to the point of friction burns I'd be fine. Plus the skin-tight visuals and situational stimuli were more than enough to keep me repeating the actions.

My hands gripped the bare, damp sides of her ass as I ran my happy friend up and down her crevasse. After a few minutes I slid my hands under the seams and bunched the material around my cock. Too much of that sensation, I knew, would cause a reaction long before I wanted this experience to end. Plus, I have her language learning to consider I joked to myself.

Retracting my cock from its happy place I slid one crooked finger below the bunched material and ran it down over her asshole and labia. I couldn't resist pulling back the leotard with my other hand and sticking the finger straight into her pussy. It practically squelshed in there from her physical arousal and her Spanish phrases immediately rose an octave or two. But she knew not to stop...

"Ah, ah, ¿Dónde está...? Uhh! ¿Dónde está mi hotel? Un-ahhh dirección! ¿Dónde hay un baaaaaaaanco?" a pause... "¿Dónde hay un hospital?"

I almost laughed aloud knowing, after many of these lessons, that she'd skipped "un cajero automático" and "un restaurante" to go straight to the hospital question. I began to thrust one and then two lucky fingers inside her in the hope that, indeed, she'd soon need some urgent hospital care from Dr Raymond.

Inevitably her educational activities suffered in direct proportion to the copious juices that were coating my fingers. Dr Raymond could wait but his pervert alter ego "Penis" roughly pulled aside the material and plunged himself into her tight, young, warm, wet, delicious cavity.

"Me estoy corriendo!" (I'm cumming)" she immediately exclaimed (as she'd been instructed in one of her less conventional classes) and I thrust into her hard and fast. I knew her body well by this point and as she began to contract around me I held my cock deep inside triggering a prolonged and noisy orgasm.

As always the thrill of controlling this beautiful young woman began the automatic response within my balls. Rather that shoot my load deep inside her - as was my hard-won right - I pulled back and smoothed out the leotard over her ass. Still beneath the garment, however, my cock, exploded, right between her butt cheeks and I collapsed exhausted over her (perfect) back.

As my cock finally softened I regained the ability to speak. On a whim I reached up and roughly pulled the top of her costume down exposing her breasts to the smooth table top.

"Good girl, Anastasia," I said, "please continue with your lesson until I come back for you."

Gathering my strength I went upstairs for a quick shower. Our dinner reservation was less than an hour away and I knew Nastya would need some time to prepare herself... well unless, of course, I took away some of the lengthy steps involved in a young girl's preparations... such as "helping" to choose what she would wear... hmm...

As I soaped up my naked, middle-aged body I thought up a pleasant scenario for her (for me at least) and by the time a plan had formed, my middle-aged cock was beginning to show signs of life. I knew that, even without the help of Pfizer Incorporated, if Nastya was in the shower with me right then I'd be hard and cumming in her for the third time that day. But, sadly, I really had to save something for the evening.

Shaved and showered, I dressed for dinner and then made my way to Nastya's closet for the items I needed. Thanks to her neatly ordered mind, I quickly located a short, plaid, schoolgirl skirt, blouse, ankle socks, and shoes. I went to her sex toy box and retrieved the remote control bullet vibrator, its controller, and a suitable bottle of lube.

In the kitchen Anastasia continued her Spanish lesson while I untied her ankles and took a moment to massage any stiffness from her calfs and thighs (oh selfless me!). I eased the plaid skirt up her legs and mostly into place around her waist then took each cute little foot in turn and put on the socks. Taking her tablet I stopped the lesson, removed the headphones and released the slip knot holding her wrists. I didn't want any of these things to distract her from what I was going to do next but she knew, of course, not to stand up until instructed.

Lifting up the skirt and the edge of the cum-filled leotard I squirted a liberal amount of lube over and around her ass crack. My cum would have the same effect initially but then it would dry and become unpleasant and I wanted her to have this sensation all evening long. I coated my fingers and applied more lube to her asshole (just a little inside and no more, I swear!) and her vagina (deeply and generously) and then onto the bullet itself which I inserted inside her. Once through the outer lips of her tight, lubricated pussy it was sucked it inside with an almost audible "plop".

"All done with the lesson, Anastasia my little one. You're a very good girl so I'm going to take you out to dinner." I told her.

"Here, put on this blouse but let me see your perfect breasts for a moment before you pull up your top."

"Of course, Uncle Ray", she replied, straightening up and taking the white blouse from my hand, "Thank you for helping me with my lessons, I love you so much!"

She set the blouse on the table and rubbed her little tits in her hands, paying extra attention to her ultra-sensitive nipples. She cradled them and presented them to me for my viewing pleasure, lifting and squeezing them together and then holding the position for several delicious seconds. Then she worked her arms back into the leotard before buttoning on the blouse. Without any bra her stimulated nipples were clearly visible beneath the two layers but when they returned to normal (if I decided to permit such a thing) they would not attract too much unwanted attention.

"You have only about twenty or thirty minutes to get ready, honey. I've helped you with your outfit so you can take the time to fix up anything else you'd like. You look beautiful to me as you are, you know, so if you'd rather spend the time sucking my cock it's completely up to you."

"Oh don't be silly Uncle Ray, I need to wash my face and fix my hair before I can go somewhere nice with you. Thank you for dressing me and I promise to suck your cock later, anytime you like."

Nastya was a wonderful submissive when that was the role we were playing and she knew what was a command and what was truly optional. She knew she could get herself ready in any way she desired but that the cum- and lube-filled leotard was her mandatory costume for the evening. This side of her was extra attractive to me because I knew she wasn't a natural or permanent submissive, not for anyone, and that she could slip into a range of roles as suited our immediate and usually mutual desires or circumstances.

Just to fuck with her a little, however, I took the remote from my pocket and, as she climbed the stairs and I set it to a gentle, level two, vibration. She squealed and bolted up the remaining steps. I didn't switch it off until I heard her coming back down, twenty minutes later. She made no comment but I knew her well and I knew how it would help to slowly build her arousal to a breaking point much later in the evening.

"Okay babe, ready to go? Let's take your car. It's The Waterfront. You drive."

"Oh awesome! I love The Waterfront, I must have been really good!"

"We'll see, we'll see", I said as we settled into her convertible.

"Unbutton the blouse, skirt up, and top down", (meaning the car's convertible roof), "and you can play with your nipples at every stop light."

She arranged her clothes as instructed, and pressed the buttons to open both the car's top and the garage door at the same time. I knew it was a little risky to display her like this in our conservative neighborhood but it was mild exposure and I had to admit that a little risk was almost as exciting to me as it was to her. Anyway, we'd done much, much worse things than an open blouse and hiked skirt in the past.

She was a natural driver and she had soaked up two years of lessons from me. Everything from the parallel parking that started it all through her keen observations and intelligent questioning of every little "expert" action I took while driving. Even those that I didn't consciously consider to point out to her as an instruction.

As luck would have it we had green lights at both of the major intersections between home and the highway but when after we took the waterfront exit I could tell she was managing her speed to avoid being being trapped at a light where there were too many people or too many high-seated SUVs. At the first light that stopped us we were the only car and she immediately took her hands from the wheel and began to massage her breasts and nipples. She was watching the cross light as she always did and just before ours went to green she looked at me and pinched them once, hard, before accelerating across the intersection with a perfect little celebratory, all-wheel drive, tire protest.

Finally, after a chain of greens, her luck ran out. We came to a stop in heavier traffic immediately behind an inevitable Prius. On our right was an oblivious elderly gentleman in an inevitable Buick but beside us on the left was a minivan with an equally inevitable but more attractive Soccer Mom type in the passenger seat. Should she look over, this lady had an unobstructed view into our low-riding sports car. I saw Anastasia glance around and take in the situation but then she looked straight ahead and, with no hesitation, brought her hands back to her chest to continue where she left off with her scantily-covered breast play.

Again I felt the slight panic of risk as I alternated between ogling my young friend and looking up at the minivan see if we were being observed. After a good minute of inattention the woman finally glanced around and over to us. Her gaze drifted down randomly into our car but I saw clearly the instant when she focused on Nastya and what she was doing. I watched her classic double take. I saw her glance towards her driver, her Soccer husband perhaps, until it seemed as though an invisible string pulled her head back towards Nastya. I recognized this as I knew that strong little string so well myself!

Before being caught I too looked straight ahead as if unaware of what was happening beside me. It was torture to not watch either the exhibition or the voyeurism but I resisted. Finally the light turned green and the traffic began to move. I turned quickly to my left and saw the women still staring down at Nastya's casual play. Suddenly she looked up and made full eye contact with me. I kept my face neutral, unlike the confused look on hers, and made sure I didn't look down or acknowledge my companion's activity. Nevertheless a tiny quantum message flashed between the two of us and then we were gone... Nastya gunned us around the Prius in front of the plodding Buick. I realized I hadn't checked to see if the old man had shared any of our (well Nastya's) little performance along with the Soccer Mom.

There were no more red lights or incidents and we approached our destination...

"Nice drive, Anastasia. Fix your skirt first and whatever buttons you can get before we get to the valets." I said as I clicked the vibrator control to level two, just enough to stop my little lover from falling too far off the boil after her in-car nipple play.

By the time we pulled up Nastya was mostly decent before she pushed the button and raised the roof. I got a kick out of watching the young car jockey take in and long smooth legs and short skirt while he held open her door, little knowing what he'd just missed. She knew the drill and she, not I, slid a deliberately unremarkable, yet generous, $5 tip into his shy hand.

She took my arm and we ascended the walkway towards the entrance. For no apparent reason - unless through some spooky, quantum entanglement - I looked back towards the parking lot and it was my turn to do the double take. Just arriving was a minivan and, as it passed one of the low level floodlights, I clearly saw the faces inside. Fuck my life, my new friend the soccer mom was arriving at the same restaurant.

I had an idea... of course...

"Anuska, once we get inside and see Dominic, make an excuse to go to the bathroom for five minutes", I said to her urgently.

Dominic, the Maitre'd was one of the reasons I frequented this restaurant. Refined and elegant on the outside, I knew his inner pervert and functioning alcoholism from years before, drinking after hours with him when he was the host of a lesser establishment downtown. He didn't need to know anything about Nastya and me but I grabbed a $100 bill from my wallet that would guarantee his no-questions-asked compliance with any level of weird requests from me.

Inside and, there he was, emerging from behind his Front of House lair like the smooth, imperial gatekeeper he was:

"Good evening Raymond, so good to see you!"

"Good evening Dominic, likewise. And you know my niece Anastasia, right?" I asked, slipping him the hundred into his handshake. Nastya, shook his hand too (the tip had already disappeard by magic) and played her part by making her polite restroom excuses.

As soon as she left: "Dominic, quick, show me the seating chart for the booths." I demanded.

He didn't bat an eyelid but ushered me behind his podium where I could see his computer screen, clicked a couple of buttons, and brought up the display that showed the state of tables in the area of the restaurant to which I referred.

It was an old restaurant that consisted of several building that had been joined together over the years to create the present day layout. The prime tables by the window, overlooking the water (where no doubt he had intended to seat us) were supplemented by the main (boring) restaurant floor area as well as a small, semi-detached section of booth seating where families with children, the less well-presented, or lovers seeking discretion, would usually be seated. The high-backed booths were staggered in such a way that the back of the rear-facing seats on the left row aligned with the back of the front-facing ones on the right. This fitted the maximum number of booths into the confined space and coincidentally added a little extra privacy for cross-aisle neighbors who were not directly aligned with each other.

The display showed me exactly what I wanted...

"Put me in 53", I said pointing to a suitable booth, "And, here's the weird part, there is a couple coming right behind us. She's blonde and attractive, he's... well I don't know... but, whatever, put them in 58 and do your best to get the woman facing the back."

Dominic looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and professional detachment. I quickly stepped away and began a close inspection of the interesting lobby art as if I was awaiting my companion in the restroom which, in fact, I was.

With my back to the entrance area I couldn't see if the woman had recognised me or not. Anyway I was much more sure that she would have recognized Nastya and her outfit which I why I had sent her away. I could clearly heard them interacting with Dominic.

"Madam, Sir, how are we this evening? Do we have a reservation for you tonight"

The "husband": "Hi, um, no, not really, uh, we were driving and looking around, and we read great reviews on your restaurant and we were, um, we just came right on over."

"Of course, Sir, I understand you completely. Let me look what we have available."

Luckily for my purposes the restaurant was fairly busy for a regular weekday evening.

"We have a lot of reservations tonight and none of our lovely waterside tables is available but we can certainly accommodate you this evening. Our food and our service is excellent wherever you sit. Perhaps you can call ahead of your next visit we can get you a beautiful view as well."

I laughed to myself that this lady had already been lucky with views tonight and, if I had anything to do with it, would not be disappointed with what was to come.

Soon after the couple was led off to their doom Nastya returned from the restroom. Dominic, (somehow understanding the careful timing that my plan required to look casual and unplanned) had taken them himself rather than delegate the task to his assistant.

I greeted Nastya with a smile and drew her attention to an interesting seascape painting, reinforcing our unhurried appearance while we waited for his return. When he came back he took an extra moment to make small talk with us. How was Anastasia and her school life? I was pretty sure he was well aware that, outfit notwithstanding, she was at college not elementary school but his friendly conversations were always carefully crafted to raise no indelicate topics.