Luna Zax's Story Blog

A collection of my stories and other erotic thoughts…. please enjoy…

The Necklace, Chapter 1

Posted by Luna on May 7, 2010


This is the first chapter of an epic erotic story, that will take place over many chapters.  Heck I even have a sequel to the darn thing in my head.  Hopefully, I have the energy to complete this one.  

Some basic backstory:  I started writing erotic stories as a reaction to most of the male-dominated (even when writing as females) stroke material that exists on the Internet:  Bad grammar and sentence structure; poorly created female characters; lack of eroticsm and sensuality in favor of getting to the ‘good stuff’; complete lack of plot and setting; and unrealistic fantasies and situations.  

Or put another way.  I got sick of poorly told, girls are total sluts begging to be fucked in every way possible, by as many people as possible.   

I wrote my stories trying to avoid these things.  I would like to think that, in a very limited sense, I’ve achieved that (but I may be VERY wrong, who knows).  However, there is a part of me that wants to explore the side of eroticsm that is VERY taboo, but that my sense of realism doesn’t allow. 

I still get turned on by the sexual freedom that some crazy erotically charged women have in these stories.  But I want it to be well written.  I still want there to be plot and characters and fun settings.  But basically an outlet for every naughty, taboo, other-side-of-the-tracks fantasy I’ve ever had.   

Hence, this series.  Allowing me to explore a female protagonist that has a change that completely alters her outlook, tendencies, morals, and preferences towards sex, as well as the people around her (3 guesses what that device is, and the first 2 don’t count).  Now, there will be real characters in this story, but for the most part, there will be sexual encounters that don’t happen as organically as my realistic side prefers. So this is my way of getting around what I think the protagonist would do, and allow the evil side of my writing to creep in.   

I have recently re-written this, combining details from a set-up chapter, and an ‘action’ chapter, into a single chapter that gets going more quickly.   

Let’s see where this takes us.   

Cheers!   

Luna Zax   

The Necklace, Chapter 1
by LunaZax
story codes: f, mast
Originally Posted: 05/07/2007

The day was long and warm, not unpleasant, but the hint of it was constantly there. Kristen was exhausted and hot as she carried the box up to her room. Going through her aunt’s house was getting to be a large dirty job, and she felt like it would never end.   

Aunt Agnes, technically her great Aunt Agnes, had passed away, somewhat surprisingly a week ago. Aunt Agnes had always lived in town, even when most of the other relatives had moved farther away. Kristen had fond memories of playing over at Aunt Agnes’s house when she was younger. Kristen’s mom, Rebecca, was Agnes’s god-daughter and the two of them had always had a special relationship. It was no surprise to anyone when Rebecca was named the executor of Agnes’s estate.   

That meant it was up to Rebecca, and by default Kristen, to go through Aunt Agnes’s house. Kristen went to help out and to find the dolls that she used to admire as a little girl. Kristen looked down at the box, with several scarves, a doll blanket, a photograph of her mom as a young girl, a porcelain unicorn figurine, and a wooden jewelry box with a gold and silver pattern.   

She felt completely sweaty and dirty from hours upon hours of going through boxes, sorting through clothes, finding items that hadn’t seen sunlight in decades. Her nostrils were still filled with the smell of mothballs, and she felt like there was constantly dust on her nose.   

Kristen sat on the bed and looked through the box of treasures she brought back, to rescue them from the other relatives and the house auction person who was arriving tomorrow. She pulled out the jewelry box, which she hadn’t really had a good change to look at in Aunt Agnes’s house. She opened it, and there was a more musty smell, suggesting that her Aunt hadn’t opened the box in a while.   

Kristen had found the box in the guest room, underneath some old papers. Her mom didn’t recognize it or the markings. She found it to be interesting, and threw it in her pile of stuff she wanted to rescue. She opened the box. The bottom of the box was lined with pink felt that was wearing thin. As Kristen pulled at the felt, the bottom moved.   

Kristen was curious and started pushing and moving at the bottom of the jewelry box. She realized that the box had a false bottom, and that there was a second compartment underneath. After manipulating the latch, she pulled off the container, revealing the bottom compartment, where there was a gold chain necklace with a small stone attached.   

She pulled her great-aunt’s green necklace out of the box, and . She stared at it a while. It wasn’t quite jade or emerald, but almost like a crystal like rock, flat. She peered inside, there appeared to be liquid inside, that seemed to move of its own accord. It was very pretty, she wondered why her great-aunt would keep it in the bottom of the chest in her attic.   

Kristen flopped down on the bed. The necklace was very unique. She had never seen a pendant or rock like this before. It was interesting, yet plain. It didn’t seem valuable or really even that pretty. But it was interesting, and she felt connected to it. Like this was something that embodied her great aunt at one point in time. She rubbed the rock which was flat but smooth, and had a pleasing feeling between her fingers.   

She placed the necklace around her neck, and sat up, looking at herself in the mirror. The stone looked somewhat gaudy on her green shirt, standing out too much. She tucked it inside, for the time being. The gold chain accentuating her neck in a very pretty way.   

Kristen sighed as she lay back on the bed. She would have to go back to school on Monday, just three days away. She wasn’t looking forward to being there. By now the word would have gotten back around about the breakup. And she didn’t want to sit there and confront any allegations or questions that people were going to have. Nor did she really feel like having a bitch session about Scott.   

She had wanted to tell her mother, or tell someone, that she broke up with her boyfriend, Scott. But that would involve two things. First, she would have to tell her mother that she was dating someone. Her mom tended to over-react to any relationship she ever had. She was too enthusiastic if she liked the boy, and if she didn’t like him, then it was a constant barrage of criticisms. In fact, her mother had scared off a few of her high school boyfriends.   

But Scott was her first college boyfriend. Kristen could date him without any interference from her mother. And, in fact, Kristen had let Scott take her virginity. She had other boyfriends in high school, but it didn’t seem right, or the right time. Scott was a nice guy, and he was good looking, and he was very different from the guys she had dated in high school.   

And then he broke up with her. Said she was getting too serious with him. Said he didn’t want to be tied down. Said he wanted to hang out with his friends more. It was bad enough to hear it, but her friends sent her pictures of Scott with a blonde girl at a recent college party. Kirsten was devastated. All of her spring plans were with Scott, and now they were all dissipated.   

She hated him for breaking up with her. She was looking forward to having a boyfriend during the warm weather. The cold March weather was about to break to the warmness of April. Even now, there were days when you just wanted to strip out of the jackets and jeans of the winter and have the freedom of less clothes of the Spring.   

Kristen blushed at the thought. She really had never thought about it like that before. Less clothes was simply a matter of sweating less and not feeling hot. She never felt confined by clothes. But there was a freedom to it. Girls wore skimpy bikinis, asking guys to look at them, after spending months covering themselves up in sweaters and jeans.   

She knew that she was more modest than most girls. It came from the teasing of early high school years, when Richard Linderman, used to call her desert flats. She looked at herself in the mirror from her bed. She had filled out, even in the last year, her bosom had swelled more.   

She laughed silently to herself. She never really cared about having big boobs, but she did realize that she was getting extra attention from guys this past year. Even Richard would have noticed her at that party.   

She looked at the curves clearly visible in her top. Such a stupid thing, she thought. Don’t guys know that they are purely functional. Guys don’t get hot looking at cow udders, why would they get all hot and bothered looking at women’s udders. She sighed and looked at her breasts again, lifting them up mockingly and letting them fall.   

Plus guys had this total misconception that girls totally just lost it when their breasts were stroked. Kristen did enjoy the touch, but she had to be in the mood to begin with usually by kissing or through her own imagination. Plus most guys liked to paw and squeeze and pinch, as all of their learning about women’s bodies came from too many inaccurate Penthouse Forum stories or dirty movies. It was a much more tender touch that was… required….   

Kristen had moved her hands up to the underside of her breasts inside her shirt. This incidental contact suddenly excited her, much more than usual.   

That felt good, she thought to herself. She ran her fingers across her stomach, the feelers on her stomach started to come alive with the touch.   

My body just got used to Scott touching me, she thought.   

Scott actually knew what he was doing. Slowly stroking her skin. He had experience, she guessed. Also, the fact that he was extremely good looking certainly made him less frenzied upon seeing a naked female body.   

Kristen discovered that her hands were now underneath her shirt and rubbing the skin above her navel. The tiny hairs felt like flagella flowing with the touch, making all of the hairs on her body flow with the touch.   

She lifted her shirt up higher to feel more of her skin. The skin was slightly tanned from years of summer camps, and running track. She saw the bottom of her lacy bra. The bra was new, as she had outgrown the ones from her high school years. The pink bra had looked cute in the store, and more importantly felt comfortable. She pulled up her shirt to look at the lacey pattern. Even she was shocked at the amount of cleavage the bra gave her, she looked really womanly, she thought.   

She traced the pattern with her fingers and felt her nipple inside her bra rise to meet her finger. Her nipples were normally not so sensitive. She arched her back and felt the slight tingle run down it. She circled her nipple with her finger as her other hand played with the skin on her stomach.   

She knew she should stop. Whenever she was home her mother doted on her, as if she was 11 years old: Doing her laundry, bringing her lemonade, asking if she wanted to go to the store with her. She could come in at any minute, but her hands were having none of it. Her left hand teased the top of her jeans, while her right rand down the curves of her breast, tracing the line of the bra. The bra was tight around her breasts now.   

Kristen unhooked the front clasp of the bra, and her breasts felt like they exploded from her bra. The pleasure coursed through her. She NEVER felt like this when she touched herself. She squeezed her right nipple as her other hand rose to meet the other breast. She loved this, loving the attention. She squeezed and pulled and pinched, feeling the rhythm coarse through her like waves against the shore.   

Her body begged her for release, her hips buckling as if telling her what she needed. Deep down Kristen was surprised, usually it took images or a fantasy to get her going, but now she was on fire. She had rarely felt this way, and never from her own touch. She unsnapped her jeans and pulled the zipper down. She rubbed the smooth front of her lavender panties. Nothing special she thought, but the smooth cotton pleased her fingers.   

She rubbed the front a few more times, but a voice inside her head said, “Go for it.” It wasn’t quite a command, but it was intense, and Kristen felt it in her core. She pulled her hand up, and slowly slid it under her panties. She played with her pubic hair for some time, loving the feeling. Each pull, each twist, teased her even more. Sometimes Scott had suggested that she shave, and in this moment she was very glad that she didn’t.   

Finally she could take it no longer, her fingers strained further down inside her panties held tight by her jeans. She rubbed her slit. One touch and it opened up to her, and the wetness poured out. Her hand was covered in wetness. She didn’t remember being this wet before. She found her clitoris and rubbed it while her mind and senses sighed in relief at the touch, while the rest of her body exploded in pleasure.   

She rubbed up and down her slit, spreading her clit out with her fingers on the upstroke. She got extreme pleasure from this. Her butt was moving of its own volition. Her hands were following their usual pattern, but something deep inside wanted more. She kept rubbing but the sensation, the desire was getting stronger, more intense. She couldn’t fight it, not with the promise of greater pleasure.   

Not caring about getting caught at the moment, she quickly forced her pants and panties down in one motion and kicked them off her foot. She spread her legs wide apart, as if allowing her lover inside. She was so open, so ready. Her fingers found her clitoris and squeezed.   

She nearly howled in pleasure. It was so intense; she barely knew how to handle the pleasure. She felt liquid pouring out of her body. She squeezed her legs around her arm and started arching her back against her hand. She ran her fingers up and down her slit and circling her clitoris when she came back up to the top. With her other hand, Kristen pinched her nipple hard. She howled louder. She couldn’t believe how hot she felt.   

She wanted something inside her. Kristen had rarely enjoyed penetration, but now she craved it. She needed something inside her. Her left hand kept rubbing her clitty, pinching and rubbing it, but her other hand pushed deep inside her vagina. Two long fingers slid in her wet hole. She pulled her clitoris up and opened up so wide for her fingers, her digits exploring the deepest, darkest, most sensitive spots, as her inner flesh squeezed them as they went inside.   

“More…” she cried out loud, not believing this. a third finger joined the other two. She howled even more. She felt the tightness of the orgasm building inside her. The wave was huge. She felt the blood rush from her face and her body, rushing lower. She started humping her hand, faster and faster, craving the pleasure more and more. It was so good, and it was so intense.   

She pinched her clit one last time and pushed her fingers deep inside her vagina. She arched her back allowing her fingers to go in deeper. The orgasm rushed downward across her vagina. The muscles squeezed her fingers as if they would break them. She pulled them out, and liquid exploded out of her like a shaken up soda bottle. Her butt landed on the bed in exhaustion.   

Kristen felt her face flush. She couldn’t stop panting. Her fingers remained around her swollen clit. She craved more. Then a wave of realization hit her, she remembered that she was in her mom’s house. And the walls were not that thick. She was sure that her normal sexual cries were stifled, but not so much about the hyper-sexuality she was feeling.   

Kristen sighed, she pulled her underwear and pants up over her soaked body to maintain modesty, in case her mother came in, and drifted off to a blissful sleep.

6 Responses to “The Necklace, Chapter 1”

  1. Trip X said

    I can’t wait to read more. Mine is the rough, get to it kind of writing you so despise. I’m sorry. I wish I had more patience to write like you. I do prefer reading yours and one other: JY Davis, The Erotic Edge. Both with plot, story line, character development, setting and then the natural sex that should occur. I look forward to future chapters.

  2. Luna said

    Sorry if you think I despise that type of writing. I don’t. It’s just too prevalent out there today.

    Glad you enjoyed my story!

    Luna

  3. […] The Necklace, Chapter 1 […]

  4. Milo said

    I agree, there is so much poorly written erotica floating around with, as you say poor characterisation, poor plot, lack of grammar and indifferent or non-existent spelling amonst other things.

    This is my first experience of your writing and have found it to be enjoyable.

    I hope you won’t take umbrage, I mean this with the best of intentions, but it it is important that your own writing is free from the very faults that you point out in others.

    For example:-

    1.In one sentence you write “she opened it” (i.e. the box),

    in the following sentence you then write “she opened the box”, an unnecessary repition as you have already informed the reader that the box has been opened.

  5. Milo said

    You write: “The necklace was very unique”

    Sorry, the very definition of unique means there is nothing else like it, so ‘very unique’ is a contradiction in terms.

    “word would have gotten around” – a very American phrase! To the English speakers “it would be common knowledge” sits far more harmoniously on the ear.

    I look forward to reading more about Kristen/Kirsten.

    • Luna said

      I don’t take umbrage at someone pointing out the faults in my stories.

      However, I certainly take offense at someone telling me what words “sit far more harmonious on the ear”. This makes you sound arrogant and pretentious. Especially under the guidance, of ‘trying to help’

      If you choose to write fiction, you can certainly choose to use whatever phrases are more American sounding or British sounding, or some new Nadsat derivative.

      Thanks for reading

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