A Thousand Hands Read online

  A

  Thousand Hands

  By

  Sarah Anon

  If you liked this story, and want to know how I became so sexually daring, take a look at my erotic biography on Amazon at

  http://www.amazon.com/Erotic-Moments-Changed-World-ebook/dp/B00CFAZL1G

  Published by ClearView Writing

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is fictional, any names or characters are purely imaginary and any resemblance to real persons is completely coincidental. Also if I mention doing anything illegal, that’s also fictional, I made it up, 100%, Sorry Mister Police.

  Find more about me at

  http://amazon.com/author/sarahanon

  http://sarahanonblog.blogspot.com/

  Follow me on Twitter at

  @itssarahanon

  And get updates via email!

  Click Here!

  Or Email me at [email protected]

  Underground Art Movement

  College was a crazy time for me. I’m naturally a geek, but combined with a fast growing wild side I had a lot of fun. But it was also a time where my mind changed a on a lot things. Politically, sexually, and lifestyle-wise. College gave me a lot of opportunities (including many I wasted) to grow, expand and become successful as a person. Learning was really just a side benefit of being part of a more open, rich and interesting culture.

  I wanted to be an artist, I had this desire to be one of the cooler kids, some kind of internal rebellion against my more nerdy upbringing reading books and living on my computer. So when I finally found myself invited to a party with the artistic clique by a friend, I was ecstatic. I spent nearly the entire day dressing myself, picking out an outfit. Looking back, it’s kind of funny that I spent an entire day trying my best to look casual.

  The time came, and I drove over to the party. It was pretty relaxed, just over twenty people sat around the house, chilling, smoking and drinking. They were talking about some artist I had never heard of, and I instantly felt inadequate. First because I didn’t know what they were talking about, secondly because I was just sat there around new people in total silence.

  Fortunately the conversation quickly turned to the art classes in school, I had stopped by a few of them and felt a little more at home. The nervousness began to fade and I started laughing as jokes were made about one of the lecturers, the basic copycat art they were forced to create and the lack of expression they were allowed to convey.

  I warmed to the group and took a drag from a joint as it passed by me. I felt the warmth rush through me, the clouding of my mind and relaxed back into the sofa. For hours we talked and drank. It was fun, and it had been a long time since I had felt so relaxed.

  As the hours passed we drank more, smoked more. In my weed induced haze I stayed sat next to the man to my right, my head resting on his shoulder. Around us people had begun to pair off, making out, hands stroking legs, and I felt his hand start to drift over my leg.

  We started kissing too, and I felt his hand slip under my shirt, holding my side tight as his lips brushed against mine. His hand moved up, and squeezed my breast before dropping back down. I looked up, we were far from alone, those that hadn’t paired off had disappeared, and slowly, the couples that had formed started to disappear too.

  I caught my breath as I felt his hand slide in to my jeans,underneath my underwear. It slipped between my lips and just a little in to my pussy, my belt stopped him from going deeper, and I felt his other hand move up to unbuckle it.

  Reality caught up with me, and I pushed him off “Not tonight” I laughed. He laughed too and we went back to making out, though I let his hand roam a little, letting him squeeze and pinch me.

  Eventually the other people in the room started to fall asleep, and I laid back to do the same. I felt the man cuddle up to me, his cock was hard, and pressed in to me, but I didn’t take the bait as he moved it against me. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, and I quickly followed.

  The Swimming Hole Suggestion

  The weekend came and we took a trip out of the city, the drive only took a couple of hours, and we soon arrived at a secluded watering hole. It was secluded, and for miles around all we could see was fields. I sat on the back of one of the trucks and chatted with another of the girls whilst the guys pulled out coolers of beer and bags of snacks, they had brought a grill too for later, and in my mind I could already smell the taste of the meats about to be cooked.

  Within minutes we all had beers in our hands and we slipped down the rocky trail to the water, everyone around me started stripping off, completely. I felt a little self conscious, I had my bikini on underneath. So I pulled it off at the same time as my clothes, keeping it hidden. Not wanting to be the one prude with clothing on, not wanting to be the one who had a bikini but decided not to wear it.

  The guys jumped in to the water, I followed the girls and sat down on an outcrop, watching them swim. I saw their glances, looking up over us, our naked bodies exposed but their laughs and smiles kept me at ease. The warmth of the sun relaxed me even more and as the other girls lay back, I lay down too, our legs still dangling over the side. I realized my legs were spread a little, as were the other girls. Our pussies lay exposed to the guys swimming, but I was still new to the group, still trying to be accepted, so I left my legs parted, and instead focused on the rays of the sun drifting over my body, cooled only by a light breeze. Every so often we would sit up, and watch the guys watching us, taking in our naked bodies, and I checked them out, unconsciously willing all of them to come over, to fuck me at the same time. A desire I knew (at the time) I would be too scared to follow through with.

  The girls and I chatted for a while before one announced she was hot and sitting up, slid off the ledge into the cold water below. The shock of the temperature drop hit me for a second, contrasting the heat of the day. But it faded quickly, and I began to enjoy the coolness.

  We swam for a while before congregating at a slightly shallower section, the guys stood up and one of them came up behind me, lifting me up I felt his dick brush against me before he cradled me like a child in the water, his skin seemed so warm against mine, and I felt my cold hardened nipple pressing against his skin.

  But nothing happened, and as the sun began to drift below the horizon the heat began to fade, and we exited the pool, heading back to our cars and pulling out blankets. and circling around a pile of branches where a couple of the guys were building a fire.

  The night came quickly, and we sat around the flames, sipping on beer, wine and liquor, chatting the night away. Most was idle chatter, but then an idea came up during a conversation how human sexuality was limited by the fear of the perception of others. People loved to see attractive people naked, a low key sexuality. Some people embraced it, others feared it, but even the fear was a denial of pleasure that many avoided.

  We thought of experiments, of ideas to remove this barrier, and over the course of the discussion we came upon the idea of having a separation of the person and their desire. A box. Kind of like that game where you had to put your hand in a box and guess what was inside.

  What if we had a person in the box, what if we could create the anonymity that so many desired, the lack of which held people back.

  For some reason my walls had crumbled, my usual reserved self fled, and I volunteered.

  The Idea Comes Together

  It took us a long time to make the box. At first we thought it would be simple, a large box with holes for the arms to reach through, but we quickly realized I needed to hang suspended. The two carpenters who made the box had an ingenious idea. They wrapped three metal bars around the box, and welded two hooks on to each one.

  Three padded straps hung from these and I could lay in the box, suspended in the air inside it.

  We took it for a trial run, I laid in the box, and they lowered the lid over me. But it just didn’t feel right. You could easily see through the large holes, and this was meant to be an experiment in touch. To fix this we sealed the holes with rubber circles, sliced like a pie so that people could put their arms through without seeing inside, or without me seeing out.

  We soon realized this came with it’s own problems though. The air ran out quickly, and it became swelteringly hot. My brilliant friends yet again came up with a solution, they ran a tube into the box, with a desk fan blowing air into the inside, a constant flow to keep me cool and breathing..

  The box was ready, and lay balanced across a gap between two workbenches. We decided to do a trial run. I stripped off my clothes, feeling a little self conscious as I felt my friends watching me. One of the men lifted me up and helped me in to the box and on to the straps. Then darkness descended as the lid was lowered down. I could see the lines of light from the sealed hole above my face, and then that too faded as they dimmed the lights in the room.

  I could hear the footsteps heading towards me, walking around the box and muted whispering. Then I felt the first hand. It came in by my torso, and I felt the fingers caress me. Then other hands began to brush over my skin. To start with it was mostly over the more innocent parts of me, then a hand squeezed my breast,a thumb rubbing over my nipple. Another came in from the side, underneath, and cupped my ass, whilst another came in from above and I felt a hand rub over my legs then slowly slide a finger in to my pussy, and moved in and out a few times before withdrawing..

  It was weird, I knew all the people who were touching me, but I didn’t know who was touching what. The slight disconnect was hot to say the least, the feeling of p
eople touching me, but the barrier of sight somehow turning it into a dream. WIth the person touching my pussy, was it someone attracted to me, was this a final release of pent up tension, had they craved me from afar?

  It lasted less than a minute, but I was dripping wet, and then the hands withdrew. I saw the lights return through the rubber strips and then the lid was once more removed.

  I lay there for a few seconds before a hand reached in to help me out, but the feeling remained, a pure eroticism of just letting people touch my body wherever and whatever way they wanted. I stood there naked before them, no longer feeling nervous, but slightly liberated, we went and sat on the couch, I was still naked, enjoying their gazes.

  We were ready.

  The Day of a Thousand Hands

  The news got out fast around the college, and the plan was put in play. No one was meant to know who was in the box, but I’m sure most people knew soon enough. For 6 hours I would stay in the box, with a break every hour for breathing room, and bathroom time. The day arrived even faster than the news, and I heard people talking about it as I made my way to the main event. occasionally people talking about it stopped talking when they saw me, some definitely knew it would be me in the box.

  The box was rested in a hallway, supported several feet off the ground.I walked up to it slowly with trepidation. Around my friends it had been easy, but now strangers, people I didn’t know, would be feeling every part of my body. There were no rules, just a box in a corridor. People all over campus knew what was in it.

  I laid back in the box and the lid was closed. I rested in silence and it was only a few minutes before I heard the first set of footsteps. They paused by my casket and my senses suddenly felt heightened. I heard their fingers tracing over the wood, up and down as the person hesitated. Then I felt the hand slide in and over my breast, It grasped firmly and squeezed, I gasped a little and the hand quickly withdrew, the footsteps left hard and fast.

  The next footsteps that came along wore heeled shoes, a girl. For some reason this made me even more nervous, first her hand came in over my face. I felt her fingers brush over my face, then through my hair. Her hand withdrew and this time it came through over my chest, her hands stroking the shape of my body.

  Her hand withdrew again, and this time her fingers slipped between my legs, her fingers parting my lips, running up and down over my clit before she slid inside me, as though she was exploring, searching. I felt her feel around inside me for a few more seconds before she withdrew. But the touch had left me a little wet, and a little excited. I felt her hand slide further down, and just for a second her dampened finger slipped in to my ass, just a little, before she left.

  I lay in darkness for a few more minutes, the time stretching out as my senses were deprived. I started to feel a little claustrophobic, and almost mentioned the next set of footsteps. My relief faded a little though, as I heard the laughter and muted voices of two men, who I could only describe as ‘Bros’. These were not really my favorite kind of people, and my feelings were not really altered as I felt their hands push through the rubber. This time there was no sensuality, no feeling, just hands roughly grabbing my breasts, pinching my nipples and several times, different fingers briefly finger fucking my pussy.

  Then the crowds came. This happened a few times through the day, though the corridor wasn’t a main thoroughfare, it was between two of the main art halls. I felt the footsteps reverberate around me, the sounds of dozens of people constantly walking past. I felt hands slip in and out. No real exploration, just fingertips slipping in, stroking my skin, squeezing my breasts. No one went between my legs, or even grabbed my ass, I guess with other people, strangers, around them, the people touching me felts too self conscious, too dirty, to touch my pussy. The veil of anonymity though still over my eyes, was not complete.

  As the day wore on more and more people stopped by, I felt hands touch me everywhere, exploring me, probing me. Some tried to make me cum, rubbing my pussy till I couldn’t help but moan. Some explored, some felt, squeezed and touched, others seemed to be measuring me up, running over my body as if they were internally taking notes on my entire body.

  Sometimes I felt as though I was being abused, sometimes it turned me on, other times I literally felt nothing. But the veil of anonymity, the disconnect between people, their hands exploring my body without limits was strangely freeing. It was as though my deepest animal desire was to be fucked, touched and admired anonymously, and this somehow fulfilled it.

  The most erotic was a man, I think, his fingers came in and ran over my chest, then withdrew, and I felt his hands explore my face. Then he put a finger in my mouth. This wasn’t a sexual experiment, I wasn’t meant to reciprocate, but I couldn’t help myself. For almost a minute I ran my tongue over his finger, sucking and teasing, till the sound of a door opening came, and he withdrew, walking off in the direction he had come from. I later found out who this was, he knew that it was me in the box, and he had been imagining that it was my mouth on his cock. We even developed a brief romance for a while, though it faded quickly enough, as so many do.

  The Final Exit

  My friends opened up the box, and the overhead lights seemed brighter than ever before. I took a while to adjust. There were my friends and about 30 other people stood around, some of whom cheered, others whistled as I emerged completely naked from my coffin.

  I stood there for a few seconds, dazed, a little unsteady, holding on to one of the people who helped me out. I somehow still felt anonymous as all these people watched me, until one of my friends draped a robe over my shoulders.

  I quickly tightened the robe and waved to the crowd, before turning and walking back to the studio while my friends dismantled the box.

  I felt different, somehow free. I had given up my body to the hands of countless people who had touched me however they had wanted. Sometimes when you do something it changes you forever, and this simple experiment had left me with a little extra confidence, a little less shyness, and strangely, a vague insight in to the types of lovers out there.

  The different touches had shown different personalities, some had been rough and self serving, others tried to pleasure me, others were fascinated by my body, barely even sexual, and some just wanting the power of knowing every inch of my skin.

  These same styles of lovers appeared throughout my life as I dated, but eventually, I found the man who had everything.

  It was only a few years later when I had a similar experience at Burning Man, a shower where others could reach through and wash you. I found myself drifting back to memories of that box as I showered and several hands reached through and began to rub my body all over.

  Though I never had the opportunity, I know that this is one experience I would have loved to relive time and time again.

  If you liked this story, and want to know how I became so sexually daring, take a look at my erotic biography on Amazon at

  http://www.amazon.com/Erotic-Moments-Changed-World-ebook/dp/B00CFAZL1G

  Published by ClearView Writing

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is fictional, any names or characters are purely imaginary and any resemblance to real persons is completely coincidental. Also if I mention doing anything illegal, that’s also fictional, I made it up, 100%, Sorry Mister Police.

  Find more about me at

  http://amazon.com/author/sarahanon

  http://sarahanonblog.blogspot.com/

  Follow me on Twitter at

  @itssarahanon

  And get updates via email!

  Click Here!

  Or Email me at [email protected]

 

 

  Sarah Anon, A Thousand Hands

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