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Mature Neighbor Mature Neighbor · Mature · The first time i fucked my mature neighbor was when she called one Saturday night drunk at my door‚ now don't get me wrong we had met before and had a few coffees together‚ She a sexy big tit big ass lady that looks good for 46. Well when she knocked at the door she revealed that she had been drinking and could she come in naturally I let her in and with in minutes she was asking me did i shave my ball which i replayed yes. She then asked to use the toilet to which i showed her‚ Say to me to wait on her suddenly the bathroom door opened and there she was standing in fuck me boots‚ stockings and suspenders and a sexy little corset with her boobs busting out over the top. she just stood there smiling and then asked you like what you see‚ to which I  nodded‚ pushing me back against the hall wall she dropped to her knees and looking up at me with her tits now swinging freely from the corset she said now let see what you got. Frantically she pulled my belt off jeans down‚ now not to blow my own trumpet I do have a long hard fat 9 inch cock. She just paused and stared at my young 31 year old cock pointing at her and then said that is the most beautiful cock I have seen and I don't know if it will fit in my pussy‚ ass or mouth but fuck it i'm going to try to which she opened her mouth and started to suck on my big cock within ten minutes she had made her way halfway down my shaft with her mouth only pulling off for a breath of air or to tell me she was going to get it down her throat which she did my whole 9 inchs squeezed down her tight throat another 10 minutes and i was twitching and shooting my first load down her throat‚ which she accommodated and drank every drop. still sucking on my cock she proceeded to suck it back to life‚ reaching down I felt her pussy was all wet and moist leading her to the sofa pushing her down I threw her legs in the air stuck my face down on her clit  and fingering her wet pussy all the  squirts and slopping noises you get with a wet pussy ringing through the air in my apartment. 10 minutes of licking/deep licking‚ ass licking and fingering her ass and pussy she soon was cumming all over my face which i licked up and then plunged my cock deep into her wet soggy pussy taking my cock deep she moaned groaned and twitched on my cock with a good hard thrust i started to bang my neighbors pussy really hard and even with her pussy being all wet she was still surprisingly tight continuing to fuck her hard i mean fucking really hard her cum flowing down between her ass and her big tit bouncying from the deep hard fuck she was receiving. squeezing them hard and sucking on them she screams out cumming on my cock and squirting all over it as i pull out filled her mature body once again with a load of cum‚ sticking her ass in the air the mature slut placed her hands on each bum cheek and pulled them apart her pussy juice glistening in the light around her asshole. Grabbing my cock she forced my big cock into her ass in one go pushing back to feel my balls slapping against her wet pussy which she was frantically finger fucking squirting even more pussy juice over my ball which she then started to rub into her pussy even inserting fucking hell i shouted as i grab her  big tits and squeeze the hard making her cum her ass getting loser with every thrust screaming and shouting to fuck her  cum everywhere but i wish ball deep in my mature neighbor and she was loving it. I soon was announcing i was going to fill her ass with cum and she screamed with pleasure as my pulsating cock emptied its third load. Pulling out she pounced on my cock again with her mouth and said she wanted to suck it clean taking her time she sucked it clean and left with my cum dripping out of all her fuck holes. The next day bumping into her in the apartment block she smiled at me with a seductive smile‚ and within 20 minutes of me being in my apartme3nt the door knocked it was her standing there in stilettos and a long coat which she revealed that she was naked under placing a kiss on my check she whispered into my ear that my cum  was dripping out of her all day and i was all she could think of and when she seen me earlier she got all wet went in stripped off and come to see it I had anymore lovely fresh warm cream to feed her hungry holes. Which started another night of wild sex with my mature dirty slut of a neighbor.           Anytime u feel a rise in your Levi's. Other Areas, PA (USA) · Casual Sex · Busy real nice gorgeous sexy guy ready to make ur blood pressure rise in ur Levi's. Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) · Fetish · There’s something in the bible I heard preached when I was very young, back when girls were still allowed to go to school. It described Eve as Adam’s “help-meet,” and went on to add that just as with the world with all its animals, women were put upon the Earth to benefit men. The reading came again a few weeks later after there had been rioting in the streets. The monotone voice again repeated that women were intended by God to be the perfect servants of men, a resource to be used and enjoyed—even harvested as sustenance to feed hungry bellies. “Let the woman return to her original purpose,” the speaker had said. “She is made for recreation, for procreation, and above all else—to nourish and sustain men.” I was twelve when I was taken from my family. I have no idea what became of my mother and two younger sisters, for they had vanished like so many women and blemished girls. My older sister still lives, as far as I know, doing one of the many things attractive girls must do. As for me, my name is Dani, and at fourteen years old I’m almost to the age of usefulness. This camp that I am staying at is actually meant to deprogram boys and teach them God’s will. Each camper is assigned a girl as his project on the first day. For one month that boy is expected to work with his girl, doing his best to ready her for service. This involves a lot of coaching, as our thoughts too, were in need of correction. My boy is Pete, a tall lanky youth with thin hands. Once Pete had played the piano, but now I’m his instrument. The first part of each day I must spend in the tank. For three hours I’m required to swim without resting—never touching the sides unless absolutely necessary. I am of course naked as all girls are. We can wear robes when we get chilly. But if a male staff member should cross our path, we are to uncover ourselves for his inspection. For we females are lowly creatures. Such things as privacy or pride are a male privilege only. It would not be so bad, except for the blistering summer heat. The men are never too concerned, since girls are not to live long anyway. But at least most places around the park are protected somehow. The tank where I swim has a wooden overhang. Even the walkways we girls take to get to our meals have covers overhead. It is a Tuesday and I have finished my swim. I towel off my chilled body, and then I await the arrival of my coach. At age fourteen my breasts are now at last showing promise. I suppose I would be into a C cup by now, if such a thing as bras still existed. Pete will focus on my breasts first in his obsession to make them larger. I pad into the empty gymnasium beside my tank, starting on the bench press to strengthen my pecs. After this I do my sets of push-ups, followed by cable flies. Pete enters the gym and quietly watches me as I work, his gaze on my chest as I separate my arms. “Done pullovers yet?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Pull downs?” No. Another negative. “You’re behind, Dani.” I nod, and as I stand, he gestures me over to the freestyle weights. We work together for about an hour, and Pete makes me repeat the sets he missed. “Now stand before me,” he commands in his bossiest voice. I obey at once, my head turning sideways as his hands massage my breasts. I tense when he takes my nipples and pinches them gently, rolling them thoughtfully between his fingers. “Your sister’s tits are huge,” Pete says, “So I know we can get you there, too.” He cradles my right breast, rubbing it firmly between his palms. “She’s a swimmer, isn’t she? That’s the work I want for you. It’ll keep you cool in the summer. During the winter they heat the water so it’s no big deal.” I nod, thinking of my many long hours each day in the smaller tank behind the aquarium, away from the public’s view. The large glass container had once held salt water and fish, but now the water was pure, slightly warmed and clear. All the girls in the performance pool out front are at least seventeen, with thin waists and jewelry adorned breasts that sway and bob as they move. Some are costumed as mermaids, while others crouch before the underwater glass, spreading their legs for the men on the level below to see. It is a millionaire’s club—or a billionaire’s club. I’m not sure which and I guess it doesn’t matter. Though now I see the police in the parking lots, too. The elite who run this club favor the town’s sheriff, a greasy fat man who supplies them with the prettiest girls. Pete is crouching before me, his knees spreading my thighs where I stand, then pulling apart my girlhood with his fingers. I continue to look away, my eyes closed as I feel one finger find the wet spot between my legs. He rubs gently, a slow circular motion that spreads my fluids out, making me slippery in every crevice. Then he slides one finger slowly in. I open my mouth, licking my lips as the finger crooks and explores my interior. Pete pulls it back out and shows it to me, flecked white with my juices. He returns to his work, separating my folds and spreading them flat. Two fingers sink in, reaching upward as far as they can. Pete is holding my buttocks close to his chest, his arm cocked as more fingers glide in. Four fingers now, clamped together to form a funnel. “What are women for, Dani?” Pete asks. He is up on his knees, his strong arms around me. “To . . .” I am panting. “Please men!” “Exactly.” Pete tucks his thumb into the funnel of his half-inserted fingers. “Slow and easy,” he croons. I feel the skin around my opening stretch wide almost to tearing. Remembering my previous sessions, I breathe slowly, deeply, and relax my legs. “Good girl,” Pete observes. His strong arm holds me steady as he works. “Now what is God’s will?” “That I should please men,” I answer. I lean over his head, my fingers grabbing his hair. He is tilting his hand slowly from side to side, softening the mouth of my pussy even more. “Dani,” he admonishes. “You’re trying too hard. Shall we give you your pill?” “Y-yes!” I cry. Smiling, he reaches into his pocket and produces the tiny tablet. I swallow it quickly, gratefully, and then droop forward again, my soft breasts draping over his head. He continues to smile, his hand maintaining the gentle rocking. His four fingers are half inside me, with the added girth of his thumb. He rotates his hand in a circular motion, tilting it up and down, and then side to side. I am feeling the heaviness begin in my legs. My tongue goes dry, cottony. I feel my eyelids drooping. He removes his hand and lowers me onto my back, his hands separating first my petals, and then my opening. I hear the pumping sound as he squirts lube through a tiny straw directly inside me. “Gently now,” he breathes. I close my eyes. The fingers are stretching me more with every movement, and I feel them pushing, working their way in. Pete has my pelvis lifted—pillowed on his thigh. My legs are up and flopped to each side, my feet dangling close to my shoulders. The pressure continues as the fingers twist, as more of the thumb makes it in. I feel my muscles submitting around his hand, the tight sensation easing somewhat. There is one more hard push, and then he is in me, embraced by my flesh, his entire hand delving inward. I am drifting with the currents of the drug, feeling his hand pressing me out, the fingers turning to expand my interior. He progresses until his knuckles touch my cervix. I let out a gasp, though my sleepy eyes are closed. “Now listen to my voice,” he says. “This camp is about preparing you girls to be women in this new world. Proper women—not like what you were before. The grownups can’t do it. There are strict laws against pedophilia now. But they can watch if they want to, because they are men, and men can do whatever they want.” “Whatever they want,” I repeat dully. “This is the first time I’ve had my whole hand inside you,” he tells me. “You’re so amazing, Dani. I am proud of you.” I nod as his hand glides in and out, exits and re-enters my body. I feel fluid dripping down, the feathery touch of his fingertips on my clit. With every stroke my body submits more, my muscles softening under the pressure and pull of his hand. He seems tireless as he works, his muscles rippling in his arm as he changes angles, sinking deeper than before, touching places no one’s been. He motions me to cross my ankles, then lifts my legs over my belly, holding them aloft with his hand behind my knees. He rolls into a crouch, and now uses the weight of his arm to drive quickly in and out. I grunt rhythmically with each penetration. More liquid dribbles where I can feel it. I can see his hand glistening as it withdraws, his tanned smooth skin flecked white with my juices. He enters again and pauses, then speeds up his tempo, the hand barely entering before snapping back out. I am loose now around his wrist, my flesh yielding as he turns and angles and stretches. Then once more he resumes the deep plunges. A whole hour passes and still Pete works. He is panting hard with exertion, sweat trickling down his neck. I climax twice and still he continues, his face sprayed with my fluids. “You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete soothes as he works. “I’ve made a device I want you to wear to bed tonight, and every night. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.” “Okay,” I mumble groggily. “As much as I’m loosening you right now, in an hour you’ll be tight as a drum again, maybe even more. We need to keep training your body. It must remember how to open, be readily accessible whenever men want it. Most men want to fist, but rarely are willing to do the work. So you must do it for them. Understand?” I close my eyes as Pete lowers my legs. Now he raises one to his shoulder, my other one dangling free. He rolls again to his knees, and lifts my pelvis with him. The hand is gliding in and out, so effortless I barely feel him. Then finally he withdraws and sets me down, wiping me out gently with a warmed washcloth. I feel him strap something around my waist. Then something firm and cold slides in. There is a pull and click of a buckle in front, and then another behind. “There,” Pete says in satisfaction. “That’ll hold it in place. Wear this for the rest of the day, ok? And to bed tonight. Over time we’ll swap this out—graduating to larger sizes. But this is good to start.” “You do nice work,” an older voice said. “Keep track of her depth from now on. Vagina and rectal both, if or when you get that far. You can pass the info on to the next boy assigned to her. I was wondering.” The doctor eyed Pete speculatively. “If you’d like to stay on after next week. Work part time here while you’re going to school.” “What would I do?” Pete went to the sink to wash his fingers. I climb to my feet, staring at the length of black leather around my waist. I could feel the object hard within me, and the trickle of fluids down my leg. “Help train the new boys coming in,” the doctor said. “You could also measure these girls and keep a spreadsheet. The measurer’s in your kit. Have you used it yet?” The doctor turned and I lost track of the voices. My insides were warm and pleasantly achy, the area between my legs throbbing. “It’s a deal then,” the doctor said in a hearty voice. “Good. I’ve been watching you work and I recognize your skill. It’s not just about getting as much as you can to fit. It’s an artform—as you know. A kind of dance.” I like to think I’m helping her reach her full potential.” The doctor coughs. “That’s a great way to see it,” he says. “The value of the woman depends entirely upon her usefulness. Even those we harvest for food—even they have more purpose in life than a woman left on her own.” There was a pause as the doctor sauntered off. Then I felt Pete’s hand on my bare shoulder. “Think you can walk with that thing?” he asks. I nod slowly and take a few steps. *** “Get your holes nicely stuffed?” Breanne glares at me across the aisle. The barn is chilly today, its high rafters filled with the chatter of small birds. I sprawl sideways on my bunk, the highest of a stack of three. The barn has been styled in the manner of the Auschwitz prisoner barracks, with long narrow rows of bunks. There are three rows altogether, with the capacity to hold ninety girls in one barn. We have numbers assigned to us, too, like the residents of the Nazi camps. Only ours are hidden—tiny microchips beneath our skin. I shrug. The blond girl hates me intensely. “Just the one,” I respond. “She’s jealous of Pete,” another girl quipped. This was Diane, a fiery redhead that the men favored. “I am not!” Breanne returns hotly. “I just hate how she just lays there. Like she’s not even alive! And look. He’s put a spacer inside her. Gonna stretch her nice and wide!” I glare at the rafters, my arms pillowing my head. “We’re supposed to stay open, aren’t we?" “No, we’re supposed to fight!” snarls Breanne. “We are human beings, not livestock. How dare they?” Another girl peeks out from under my bunk, her raven hair swirling down her arm. “They are following God’s word,” she says. “Have you read it? Women were made for the happiness of men; it’s very clear in the bible. Adam was unhappy, and so God made him a help meet. That’s us. We are here to help however we can.” “Help the men?” Breanne growls the words. “By letting them torture us? Have you heard the cries from the barn on the hill? Or letting them harvest our bodies as if we are cattle? They have women attached to machines for at least two years. All those women do all day is hang there and produce milk. That’s slavery!” “The men rule over us.” Helen replies, her blue eyes meeting mine. I like my bunk mate. She is a year younger than me. And just like Helen Burns her namesake from Jane Eyre, she is a calming influence, and very smart. “They decide where we fit the best—where we can be the most useful.” “And if the men decide you’re best at being ground into hamburger—” Helen shrugs. “I’m not ugly, so I doubt that would happen.” I tune them out and return my gaze to the rafters. The dildo inside me isn’t so uncomfortable if I stay on my back. The girls go on talking around me, Breanne expressing her outrage over my docile behavior. “She’ll live longer,” Helen says from beneath me. “But with that attitude, Breanne, you might find yourself at the torture barn.” The torture barn. My innards writhe at the thought, for like everyone else I hear stories. Some men like happy things to do with women, appreciating the beauty of our form, or even our taste alongside beans and potatoes. But not all men have the same needs. The torture barn caters to a gentlemen’s club, and the unfortunate girls carted off into the forest are never again seen. But they are heard. Late at night if I happen to wake, I can catch the sounds of the far-off screaming. Not all the girls cry out. But when they do, the terrifying cries echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts for days to come. *** I hear the bell for dinner and jump from my bunk, wincing as the dildo bruises me inside. The food is good here. They feed us as though we are prized pigs. Everything is organic and healthy—superfoods to keep us tasty if or when they decide to harvest our meat. I attack my meal with gusto as I do every night. It is a plate of peeled carrots, topped with chickpeas, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and hemp hearts. Added to the mix is ginger powder, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and nutritious yeast. It is delicious and I eat every forkful, washing it down with a glass of iced mushroom coffee. Doctor Burns appears behind our tables and saunters slowly, his hands behind his back, to the dais up front. The boys from the camp appear in his wake, each carrying a chair that they place beside our tables. The doctor plugs in the microphone at the back of the dais, then gives it a tap to call the room to order. “Pete Jennings,” he calls in his ringing voice. “Has your girl finished her dinner?” Pete stands slowly and glances my way. “She has, Dr. Burns.” “Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “Bring her forward along with your tools.” I tense as I stand, the skin prickling behind my neck. The doctor continues to address the entire room. “This boy performs in ways that outstrips some of our best full-time trainers; hence I have asked him to stay on as part of our staff. I thought it might benefit the rest of you boys to observe his techniques. Peter,” the doctor gestures to the table being wheeled onto the dais. “Do you have everything you need for a demonstration of your skills?” Peter frowns at me as I step to his side, then turning his body in such a way as to hide his right hand, he passes me the little pill to help me relax. I turn away, gulping it down quickly as I climb shakily onto the table. He gestures me onto my back, then nods toward the doctor. “What now, Sir?” The doctor seats himself in front of our tables. “Pretend we’re not here. Consider this another session. Business as usual.” I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Pete’s hands are on my breasts, kneading them firmly. He pauses as he works, leaning over to finger my clit. I breathe deeply, a wave of fatigue creeping down my limbs. Pete takes his time with my breasts, his fingers digging through the tissue to find my muscles. “Why do that?” One boy calls from the left side of the room. When Pete fails to respond, the doctor speaks for him. “It gets her juices flowing. You should be doing this, too—all of you. A lot of men still get off on the breasts. Better to have our girls ready for whatever comes.” I float with the effects of the drug, my legs raising up as Pete slides them into the stirrups. He lifts me to the point that I feel a breeze between my buttocks and the cushion I am on. The design of this table is alien to me, appearing to have been created for this purpose. It has a light that Pete switches on to shine between my legs, fully illuminating my groin. He loosens my belt deftly and slides out the dripping dildo, setting it aside on the bench beside the table. His fingers glide up inside me, two and then three, turning slowly as he applies a slight pressure. He takes his time, bending low to explore my interior and gaping me as he has done before. He adds lube to his hand, then twists in effortlessly, his elbow turning this way and that as he expands my interior. I let my head droop to the side, feeling the drool running down my cheek. The fisting continues for what seems like forever. Pete glides slowly in and out, focusing fully on his objective. His fingers form a fist at my core, his knuckles rubbing against my cervix. Then he draws out his hand with a squelching sound, his fingers glistening. “If she was a year older, he could double it now,” the doctor says. “Have any of you boys gotten to that part in your books?” A few raise their hands. Smiling, Peter glances at his fellow campers hurrying to gather around the table. “She’s not fighting you at all,” one observes, staring down. A boy moves next to Pete, his fingers reaching in to spread my folds back, making the entry and exit of Pete’s hand more visible in the light. A few boys trade places with Pete, their hands penetrating me as Pete’s had done, so smoothly I barely notice. I am aware of hands holding my buttocks, lifting my pelvis even higher. Pete’s arm is in me again, the elbow rising and falling, the wet sounds filling my ears. “She’s a good girl,” Pete said. He is rotating his fisting hand carefully, massaging my sore interior. *** That night I sleep without the dildo. It is Pete’s idea, since I worked so hard today. I watch a girl braid Breanne’s hair as sleep eludes me. The girls are the rebels in our group, but tonight they seem subdued, as if Diane’s threat of the torture barn still lingered in their heads. Horror stories abounded of the torture barn. No death was easy there. “If we’re dead, we can’t fight back,” I hear one of the girls say. “We can’t resist them,” whispers the other. “Christianity has taken this country completely. It’s worse than Afghanistan now.” “I don’t know about that,” Breanne says. “They’re probably just as bad. They don’t have red meat, either, right? And real men can’t live without it. Show me a man who’s vegan and I will bet you my last penny he’s gay.” Pete eats meat, I think as I drift off, dreaming obscurely of men wearing dresses and swimming in the tank with mermaid tails. *** The new day brings a blast of chilled air onto my face as I jerk awake. The barn doors are open, the bell ringing us girls to breakfast. I stop absently for my shot as I leave the barn, then trot naked, the third in a long line of sleepy nude bodies. The boys and men pause grinning to watch us, and I avoid their eyes as a proper girl should. Our breakfast is oatmeal, with raisins and honey. Once again it is the best oats money could buy—seeded organic oats with fresh moist raisins. We top this with cold milk and drink it down with mushroom coffee. Dessert is an orange, thin skinned and bursting with juice. *** I sink into the water of the tank and breast-stroke to the other side. Watching me, Pete frowns. “What have I said about shaking loose first?” He crouches beside the pool and I swim to a stop below him. “Your muscles support your breasts,” he said. “But they are separate. To be a swimmer your breasts must move freely with the water. They cannot be tethered to your muscles. Now go on; assume the position.” I nod and reach downward with my arms, my legs beneath me as I pretend to crawl on my hands and knees. I hold my arms away from my body and jerk my knees forward and back, the motion of the water catching my breasts, dragging them to and fro. I double my speed until my breasts are flopping back and forth. Then I change my movement, scissor kicking my legs to make my flesh jerk upward and down. Pete is nodding above me. “It’s good practice letting them hang. This is the position the milkers take. The breasts dangle from your ribcage, the weight of the milk drawn away from the rest of your body. Used to be a girl could produce twenty-five ounces to thirty ounces daily. That was three years ago. Now most of our women pump out fifty ounces per day, with some coming close to a half gallon. The eventual goal is a whole gallon. A carton’s worth per woman. And who knows? With drugs they might pull it off.” I flip onto my back and swim where Pete can see, the tissue over my ribcage bobbing easily in the water—rippling with the waves. I turn back, pivoting toward Pete. I start when I find him treading water beside me in his loose red swim trunks. “All girls become milkers eventually. You need to get used to it.” He turns me in the water, then grasps my nearest breast and pulls it downward, squeezing it hard. “Being handled by men, I mean. Once you are a swimmer, you’ll be given the Somatotropin to help your breasts grow. Milkers get huge, you know, which is why they hang from slings. They cannot walk anymore. Or at least not far. Which is why we need to make your muscles stronger for all the weight you’ll support one day. Here,” he says, and hands me over a pool noodle. Seeing my confusion, he gestures. “Tuck it under your arms so it supports you from behind. I’m going to try something new before you swim.” Mystified, I obey, and Pete pushes at me until my head bumps the wall. “Hold onto the ladder. I don’t want you drifting.” I grip the rungs, and lay back. My breasts float and point skyward, jiggling under the sun. Pete turns my body, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand—then twists his other into the softness between my legs. I tense at the coolness of the water entering me. Pete works his hand inside me, the lube making a patch of oil on the water under his chin. “Spread your legs wide. I can’t do it for you.” I obey as best as I can. The arm pushes in past the wrist, and turns, and I shiver at the water that is sucked in with it, a chillness he pushes deeper before drawing his hand out. He catches one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. Then he fists me steadily, the water entering me again. “A good washing after yesterday,” he says with a grin. “Does this feel good?” “Yes,” I gasp, eyeing the white haze forming about me, my fluids snaking around us both. “I thought it would ease some of the burning. All that work yesterday.” I recline as far as I can, my one leg bobbing in the tank’s current. With every stroke, Pete angles his wrist deliberately to invite more water in, the coolness filling my depths along with his hand, easing the heat I didn’t realize I had.” “You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete croons as he works. “I’m giving you the rest of today off after your swim. Keep the dildo inside you if you can. Even when you’re not in bed and walking around. We need to keep your body open until the men want it —teach it to be accessible at all times, like I’ve said. Most men want to fist, but rarely want to do the work. Do you remember what is most important?” I nod. “Pleasing the man.” “Or men,” Pete corrects me. “Sometimes there’ll be men. No matter what they do, or how roughly they do it, you need to always look for ways to please—however they want you to.” “What if they want to kill me?” There is a strained pause. Pete stops his hand, his knuckles gently massaging my cervix. “That, too,” he says finally. “A woman with uses is a woman fulfilled. If they kill you for their pleasure, then your life has not been wasted. You’ll be processed into meat and you’ll serve a second purpose—to fill their bellies. Not many women get to have multiple ways to find meaning for their life. That’s why the girls who go up the hill are the luckiest of all.” I gape at him. “But they’re tortured!” He sighs, and his hand resumes its work. “It’s just foreplay, Dani. Just a different kind. Those women pleasure the men first, and then feed them. Compare that to an ugly girl who gets carted off from her home, never to be seen again. She serves one purpose only. Just one. Do you think she’ll be remembered for that? No. But you will, and so will the girls on the hill. You represent a pleasant memory for a man. Or perhaps for many men. Isn’t that lucky?” I nod, genuinely believing it after he puts it that way. But Pete is not finished. He wrinkles his brow, as if trying to remember words he had read. “God created men,” he recites slowly. “We are his creations, and in following our creator’s example, we made women from our rib. You are created from men. We are your gods. Don’t you want to please us?” I raise my leg from his shoulder in response and cock it high over my chest. Pete, grinning approvingly, turns slightly to drive in his fist. “So . . . it’s a good thing to go up the hill?” Pete pats my hip. “All women die young,” he says gently. “Seems to me the more useful the death, the better. The men in that club aren’t so bad. They simply have different tastes than other men. I’ve heard it said that their methods are creative, but for the woman there is always a lot of pain. I think you should try to be like your sister. In a year or two your breasts will be strong and big. You will bring lots of pleasure to the men who visit us here. It’s a good club. Even when you enter your last phase and become a milker—you’ll see. I hear they even have movie nights for the dairy girls. Useful. The word echoes in my ears as I stare beyond the buildings. I go the rest of the day with the dildo inside me. I have the belt around my waist to hold it in, and I have to be careful when I sit on the bench for dinner. I can feel my fluids leaking onto the seat—a trickle I try discreetly to wipe with my hands. *** The next day I wake early and tiptoe out to greet the sun. The road into the foothills has mist covering its base. During the night I had roused to the familiar sound of the old truck’s engine. A girl had been taken up to the barn in the hills. All night I had stayed awake listening for sounds of screaming. But this death had been a silent one. I ask Pete about it during my swim. He sits on a chair working on his computer. He is a junior in High School, and though he is at camp, he still has several projects he needs to finish before the fall quarter begins. “Oh, did they?” Pete glances at the forest behind our heads. “I didn’t hear it. But your barn is closer to the road than our cabins. “Did they give her something?” I asked. “Like you give me?” Pete shakes his head. His blue eyes are fierce as he glares at his computer. “Drugs taint the meat, so no they wouldn’t. They just haven’t . . . done her yet. They might be collecting several girls for something. They do that, you know. Work on more than one per night. If it’s a weekend thing they usually have a barbeque after. They do if it’s sunny, that is.” I lick my lips, punching the water rapidly with both fists. Pete glances down at my jiggling breasts and grins. “Does this really make them grow?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. Pete laughs. “Nah. I just read a lot so I can sound smarter than I am, and some of this stuff I make up as I go. But it does make sense. Weight lifting makes muscles bigger. Whether or not it makes your tits grow, who knows? But I do know they’ll end up huge eventually. Your owners will see to it in their quest for more milk. I’m surprised you’re not getting the shots yet.” I nod, and hearing the chime of the clock go off, climb shakily up the ladder. I stand beside Pete, water sluicing down my legs. He gestures approvingly at the dildo still strapped inside my body. “Good girl, Dani. Way to take the initiative.” “You said I needed to open easily.” He stands and sets down his laptop. Taking me by the shoulders, he stares into my face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You do want to please.” Tears burn in my eyes. “More than anything. I want to do what’s right,” I manage. “I thought God created women, too. That’s what my mother said. But—” He was emphatically shaking his head. “I know better now, Pete. And I’m sorry if I ever angered you or did anything disrespectful.” “Hush now; you’re fine.” He smiles at me, genuine affection on his handsome face. “Come, let’s get you on your table.” I follow him into the grooming room with its black and white checked floor and big basin sink. There are six tables in a row. What had once been chiropractic tables had been modified so a girl could lay face-down on her belly with her breasts poking through. I settle myself, hearing the squirt of oil from a bottle beneath me. Pete massages the liquid onto my cooled skin. My breasts follow his touch like magnets, the nipples clinging to his hands as if begging for more. He kneads deeply for a time and pulls, sliding the nipples between his fingers. “I do think you’re bigger. Not as big as your sister yet, but there’s definitely some heft here.” He cradles each breast—testing their weight. “How old are you?” I think about my birthday. “What month is it?” I ask. “It’s August,” he said. “August third.” “My birthday was July 31st,” I tell him. “I’m fifteen now.” “Fifteen. So, we’re now just a year apart in our ages.” He reaches up over the table and presses my back hard against the mat. “Strain down to me,” he commands. “Fill my hands.” I obey, turning my head to press my cheek into the bed. He grasps each breast one at a time between his hands and tugs downward, the contours of his palms grinding into my tissue. Then he presses up through the flesh, his fingers massaging my muscles. “I do get some kind of shots,” I tell him finally. “They’re just vitamins though. That’s what they tell us in the barn. Do you think—” “No, that’s either the Somatotropin for humans I told you about, or something like it.” His heavy breathing pauses beneath me, his knuckles grinding into my breast. “I’m glad they’ve started you on it early. You’ll get big very soon. Bigger than your sister, probably. You should see the ones in the milk barn. They’re actually kind of ugly,” he muses, “by the time they get so big. The slings keep the girls from having to see how bloated they are. And their nipples are as fat as this or bigger!” He brandishes his thumb. “All purple and swollen. As long as my thumb, too!” Sighing, I close my eyes. The knuckles are mashing into my tissue, my own nipples growing sensitive and hard. I feel the fluid welling again around the dildo. It dribbles onto the table, dripping to Pete’s head. “God, you’re wet! Here.” Rising to his feet, he reaches around my waist to release the dildo. It jettisons out with a rush of warmth to land with a thump on the floor. “Nice!” Pete exclaims. “See Dani, this is exactly what the men want to see. A female dripping and ready for work, begging to be opened inside. Here.” He raises the table to his waist. Then standing beside me, slides one whole hand in past his wrist. “Oh!” he exclaims. “Look at you!” Delighted, he moves between my legs, cocking my knees up until my toes touch my rump. With gusto he fists hard into my depths. Then grinning, he shows me his hand, the pale liquid dripping. “Should we try to double fist?” he asks as he resumes. “You’re fifteen now. I bet you’re ready. You’re certainly wet enough.” I draw a deep breath, eyeing his hands. “If you think I can.” “Absolutely.” He reaches into his pocket, then hands me a pill. I quickly shake my head. “I want to feel it as much as I can,” I told him. “I like how it feels. Please, I’ll relax.” He studies me briefly, then again takes position. I feel his hand gliding in deep, then slowly withdraw as more fingers hug his wrist. “Dani, I want you to think about opening yourself,” he says. He enters cautiously, the new fingers forming into the palm of his fist, sliding gradually in as he twists. The skin around the entrance to my cunt springs tight, painful to the point of tearing. I feel his every movement, each tiny adjustment making me hiss. “Easy,” he urges. I breathe deeply as I fight to relax, imagining the mouth of my opening yawning wide to meet him. I feel a sudden stabbing pain just inside my vagina, and then another on the opposite side. I have the sensation of being poked three more times around my entrance, but there is numbness now. “Just a little novocaine,” Pete is saying. “There, that should help” I feel the twisting continue, the pressure deeper now, as if the tightness at my threshold has ceased to exist. The hardness of his hands is rotating slowly, sinking down into my core. There is a sucking resistance as he pulls his hands outward, and I gasp in pain. Then I feel a pricking deep inside, and spot one of his hands between my legs. He is holding a syringe with a very long needle—guiding it carefully in. Another prick I barely feel, followed by another further in. “I know we’re cheating,” he says. “But I want this done right.” Once again his hands penetrate my body, the walls of my numbed flesh yielding. He groans in delight, his entwined hands twisting hard and fast to loosen me up. “Let’s get you soft while the novocaine lasts,” he mutters. “I didn’t give you very much.” His body rocks as he fists; he is grunting softly in his throat. “You’re doing so good,” he says, and before I can react, he plunges again, twisting eagerly to reach my cervix. Then he is out, and back in, his hands glistening. He pauses to turn me onto my side. “Can you hold your left foot over your head?” I obey, holding my leg as far forward and up as I can. He cocks back my right leg with his knee, then drives into me steadily, his two hands as one gliding effortlessly in and out. Fluids are trickling down my right thigh as I writhe on the table. I am starting to feel it, the wide-open stretch and the massage deep within. He pulls out as my fluids gush, then wipes his face with his arm briefly before resuming his work. With my hypersensitive skin it feels incredible, every nerve on fire as his hands punch deep. The sound of my wetness is loud in the grooming room. The world is spinning around me. And still the pounding continues, the sliding of my body up and down on the table. I pass out at some point, yet dimly I am aware of Pete turning me onto my back, raising my knees to secure them to the rings above the bed. My legs are opened and tied, so widely spread I can feel the tendons at my groin stretching. His two hands enter me again, alternating one and then the other, the hands inside no longer entwined, one sliding in as the other glides out. It goes on like that for what seems like hours, but then, abruptly, it stops. I feel Pete’s hands stretching the entrance of my pussy, pausing just inside and pulling me apart. “What are you doing?” I mumble. “I’m gaping you,” he tells me. “Something else men like to do. To see inside after they work. I can see very clearly inside you, Dani. You’ve done very well today.” I feel my face flame hot. “Do I have to be a milker?” He pats my thigh, then opens me wider as he bends for a long look. “Don’t be embarrassed now. Pleasing the man, remember?” I nod, breathing deeply. “Dani, milkers live two years longer at least. Don’t you want that? You’ll get to have a baby, too. If you’re really lucky, it’ll be a boy!” “But I won’t get to raise him. They’ll take him away.” “Girls cannot be trusted with such important work,” he agrees. “The church raises babies for you now. Besides, you’ll be too busy providing milk. For him, and everyone else. Girl’s milk goes into everything, you know. You drank some this morning.” “I don’t want purple nipples,” I pout. I glare at the ceiling, feeling Pete’s hands deep within me, the entwined fingers holding still, as if feeling my body’s pulse. “You won’t see them,” he says. “The breasts hang out of your sight, with bracers to support the weight. You forget they’re there after a while, or so I’ve been told by a reliable source. But think of it, Dani. All the healthiest food you can possibly eat. And movies! You get to watch movies!” I close my eyes. The hands are turning within me, pressing me out. “If I don’t become a milker,” I venture to say. “What then?” He sighs and the hands stop. “Well,” he says slowly, “if it turns out you can’t have a baby, you’d come to the end of your journey, wouldn’t you? They’d either take you up the hill to entertain those men, or you’d go to the processing plant, which is much more likely. I haven’t seen how it’s done, but I’ve heard there’s some kind of machine that does it really quick. You wouldn’t even feel it.” I lick my lips. His hands are moving again, gliding slowly in and out. I try to relax despite my raised hips and widely spread legs. He is fisting me with his hands entwined, pumping me vigorously with loud squelching sounds. I am drifting again, my feet going numb from the straps under my knees. I see two men enter the grooming room and stop to watch Pete work. They are talking in low murmurs, their voices appreciative—praising his efforts. One shines a light in when Pete stops to gape me, the two faces rapt as they peer between my legs. My guts squirm as the men take their time, scrutinizing my interior and taking pictures as they talk to Pete. “Have you done anal yet?” The taller man asks. “Yeh,” his companion says, leaning down so I see his face. “First, why not tell her everything, boy? We work at the plant, little Miss. Wanna hear how it’ll go down? A knock on the side of your head to stun you first, see?” He taps his temple. “Then we’ll pop you into the D, D and D device. As in decapitate, dismember, and disembowel. All done by one machine. Thwack, thwack, thwack it goes, and It’s very quick, as your coach boy says. Then someone like old Jake here will get to wash out your torso and cut it in half, then a quick acid dip to loosen breast tissue and skin. And then what, Jake? Scraping, the stamp on the rump, and then the freezer?” Jake’s mouth twitched. “Something like that. But it’s one big chunk, not three. The head and limbs come off simultaneously.” He stares at Pete. “I hear you’re talented, boy. I want to see your hand up her ass.” “Not yet,” says Pete tightly. “One new thing at a time. I’ve been vagina fisting her for two straight hours and my hands are tired. I had to numb her up to get two inside. I’ve had enough for one day.” “Then there was the time the machine wasn’t calibrated right,” the shorter man says. He leers at me, waggling his eyebrows. “Cut her head cleanly in half—it was something to see, I’ll tell you.” “We’ll come back tomorrow to watch,” the man called Jake says. “We’re not allowed to work on these girls. We only ever see them in pieces.” Pete clears his throat. “It’s a date. Though I warn you gentlemen, I doubt I’ll get my hand in. She’s never done anal before.” The two men start for the door. “Oh, you’ll get it in,” the shorter man calls. “We won’t leave tomorrow so easily as today.” I lay still as the door clicks shut. The cold air wafts between my legs, my fluids chilling my naked skin. Pete is squirting something soothing inside me, using one hand to push it deep. He wipes my exterior with a warm washcloth, clicking his tongue as he releases my legs. “What did I say is most important,” he asks. I try to swallow. “Pleasing the men.” He takes my hand and helps me sit up. “Exactly, Dani. Pleasing men. Those men in particular are very dangerous. There’s nothing I can do; as men they have the right to watch. So, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. Do you know what anal is?” I draw a quick shaky breath. “A kind of fisting?” “Yes.” Pete sets a pillow on the table, then gestures me onto my stomach. He raises my hips from behind, moving the pillow until it elevates my pelvis. “Only from the back. From here.” He taps my rosebud, as my mother once called it, the one private place I still have. “This is another thing a lot of men like. In fact . . .” Pete slathers on a thick lubricant, using one finger to poke some in. “Men like to see both holes fisted at once. A girl being fully utilized. If they could, they’d stick their penises in your mouth, too. But that kind of thing’s not allowed at this club.” I accept the drug Pete gives me. Laying on my stomach, I wait as Pete stands beside me. Gradually I feel the weight of my head compressing my cheek on the table. I am drawing deep breaths, sinking rapidly into slumber. Vaguely I am aware of pain as my anus stretches, feeling oddly embarrassed like I’m going to the bathroom. I feel a hard object at first, something small graduating to big, making a pumping noise beside my head. The object is turning within me, straining my anus at different angles. Then it is gone and I feel Pete’s fingers. Motionless, I try to sleep, relaxing my body as much as I can. The fingers twist slowly in and out. Then there is the object again, with more pumping sounds and the pain of stretching. Now it is Pete’s whole hand working its way in. Fingers are gaping me from behind, then the hand Is pushing inward, slimy with lube. Pete is inside me now, his hand a firm pressure as my tissues guide his way. He leans into me as he turns his arm. I feel the ball of his fist pressing my innards. His other hand enters my vagina, and begins to fist very gently. Groggily I splay my legs, lifting one from behind to give him room. “You still in here?” A boy asked from the doorway. “It’s past dinner time, you know. I saved you a hot dog.” Pete pauses in his work, breathing hard. “Trent. Can you help me with something?” “Sure!” The larger boy hurries to the table. I am aware but not aware, drool soaking the table under my cheek. “We have a problem. You can’t tell anyone, promise?” “Promise!” Trent exclaims. “What do you want me to do?” I blink, feeling the hand in my rectum slowly draw out. “Have you done anal?” Pete asks. “Not yet.” “Let me see your hand.” Another pause. “Good, we’re about the same size. Now cover your arm with lube to the elbow. Ease it in, like you saw me doing. Don’t force it. Let her body tell you what to do.” “Oh God!” Trent groaned, as I feel the hand sliding in. “How far does it go?” “You’ll feel a soft resistance; once you do, explore around a bit. Go in as deep as you can.” “So what’s the problem?” Trent leans against my buttocks. His fingers are open inside, stroking my interior as he feels his way. “Two men are coming tomorrow and they want to see anal on her. I figured it would be better to practice first. Lift her leg with your free hand. Pull the foot behind you and up.” I feel Pete’s hands at the mouth of my cunt again, the two hands twisting themselves in. The skin is tight—painful to the point of tearing. “Easy,” Pete whispers to me. “Dani, relax!” I try to sleep, to let the drug carry me back down. Three hands are inside me now, moving and twisting within. “Three!” Trent exclaimed. “Wait, let me get my phone.” There is a pause as the larger boy makes his video. “Look at this! We’re at camp and he’s double fisting?” Pete is pumping steadily now, the two hands entering my drugged body easily as I come and go from awareness. This lasts for some time, the double fisting below Trent’s deeply imbedded hand. “Do you have a light?” Pete asked abruptly. “Oh good. Dani, we’re going to try this again.” I nodded groggily as the arms inside me slowly retreat. “Gonna gape?” Trent asked. “Absolutely. Here, if I stretch the sides, can you get a few fingers in to press out the bottom? Just . . . that’s it. Straight down—firmly. Now hold.” There was a click, followed by sounds of amazement. “That’s great! I’ve never seen that before.” “That’s her cervix.” I hear a few more clicks, and then the fingers release. “I want copies of those,” Pete says. “You got it. Ready for your hotdog? I put it in foil so it should still be warm.” I am laying where the boys leave me, the two of them sitting on a bench as Pete eats. My stomach twists as I think of the ingredients. “These are actually better for you than the old pork variety,” Trent is saying. “At least with girl meat there’s nothing disgusted added. Besides, pigs were smart. It was pretty terrible that we killed them for food.” “Nope, just girl.” Pete makes a face as he stares at his food. “This makes us cannibals, you know?” Trent shrugs his broad shoulders and grins at me. “If it was made out of men, then maybe that’d be true. But what’s wrong with cannibalism? Pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that condones eating your children. Besides,” He gives me a wink. “Don’t forget what women are for. To be our help-meets. Get it? Help MEATS?” Pete rolls his eyes. “You ok there, Dani? Want some food?” “Sure she does.” Trent approaches my table. “Here, let’s clean you up first.” I submit as the larger boy washes between my legs with the now soiled cloth. “There.” He helps me sit up, and I shakily climb off the table. “Hungry?” I glance dubiously at the bag on the bench and nod. “Good, because I brought something from the kitchen for you. They were very clear on the matter that this is for you.” He lifts out a cardboard box and hands it to me. Opening it, I find a large serving of wild rice, broccoli and buttered pinto beans. I stare at the yellow grease congealing beneath the veggies, visualizing the girls hanging from slings in the dairy. “Thank you,” I say, and accept the wooden spoon he hands over. “Besides,” Trent continues to Pete. “We were all going to die from overpopulation. This way only half of us live beyond twenty-two. And the other half . . .” He pats my arm. “We have all the food we need for a very long time. You know they had us eating cockroaches before the pandemic. Alternative foods—it’s not like it’s a new concept.” The rice and beans are good, despite the fact they are now at room temperature. I clean out the box, and even eat the biscuit Peter hands to me. I hesitate at the milk carton and straw Pete passes to me next, eyeing the image of a cow on the front. It is whole milk, and I know very well that it does not come from cows. “Go on,” laughs Pete. “You’ve had it before. What’s the difference?” I take a sip and savor the sweetness on my tongue and the rich creamy texture. “This is actually better for us by far,” Trent is saying. “Cow’s milk was meant for baby cows, not humans. This is one hundred percent for us!” Drinking deeply, I empty the carton as both boys watch. “Like it?” Trent inquires. “Um, yes, actually.” I am staring at the carton. Ingredients: Pasteurized Girl Milk. Girl, I think to myself. Because none of us get to be women anymore. *** I follow Pete to my barn just as the lights are about to go off. “Get in bed,” the head girl commands with a glower at Pete. Pete turns me where I stand. “Keep both dildos in,” he says in a firm voice. “The one in the back comes out only if you have to go, understand? You have a very big day tomorrow. Get some rest.” I squirm uncomfortably and nod. Climbing into my bunk I finally find a comfortable position on my left side. The lights go out, leaving me sore and alone in the darkness. The dildo in my vagina is twice as large as the first, and it almost feels like the two chunks of latex are touching each other. With the one in my rectum, I feel constantly like I have to go. It is only when my stomach cramps that I run to the toilet. “Where were you at dinner?” Helen’s voice floats up from below as I return to my bunk. “Getting stuffed,” I snap, and screw my eyes shut. *** When morning comes I find I can’t eat, and must choke my oatmeal down under the head girl’s stern eyes. The milk for our oatmeal is from hemp hearts, I realize, recognizing its frothy texture and nutty taste. I leave for the gym after breakfast, but find Pete stepping in my path cutting me off. “No, he says sternly. “Today is about making you ready for those men from the plant tonight. And I am betting there will be more than just the two. Come on.” I trot naked at his heels, bypassing the tank and the gym and going at once into the grooming barn. He gestures me to the table and onto my stomach. I comply, and tense as he removes both my dildos. “Very good,” he says approvingly. “We’re not going to fist right now, because I know you’re very sore. But a few things.” He inserts a large needleless syringe into my vagina and I feel a coolness flooding my body. “This will help you feel better,” he tells me. “It will keep you numb for the next fifteen hours. Trust me, you will not be hurting tonight.” I heave a sigh of relief as he repeats the process with my anus, inserting the fluid deep into my rectum. I am smiling as I lay there, oblivious to the stretches Pete is putting me through. He starts with several bottles, each progressively larger than the first, though for the life of me I can’t exactly say which orifice each bottle is for. We work for about an hour, with me lying still and Pete standing beside me, both of us waiting for my body to adjust. “You’ll do just fine tonight,” he tells me. “These men just want something different, that’s all. They get tired of only seeing the dark side of our new society. They want to enjoy some of the benefits. I can understand that.” “Somebody has to do what they do,” I hear myself mutter. He looks at me sharply. “That’s exactly right, Dani. These men do the dirty work to keep the rest of us from going extinct, including you girls. Men cannot survive without these resources you provide us. It’s a hard fact, and one we must live with.” “Do you think . . .” I hesitate. “Your God is punishing you for letting women be equals?” Pete taps his fingers on my head. “Could be,” he muses. “I never thought of that, but maybe so. If we had used you from the start the way God intended . . .” his voice trailed off. “Could be . . .” He moves in behind me and slides out the bottles. I am shaky as I stand, my entire pelvis numbed from my belly button down. “Ready for a swim?” he asks, eyeing me. “I think so,” I tell him. I am eager to get to the tank—to swim off my anxiety and fear. The expressions on the faces of those men last night—like they were inspecting raw meat. *** My stomach gurgles loudly in the grooming room as we wait. I sit on the table, my legs swinging back and forth over the side. The table with the light has been brought from the clubhouse, complete with its “hi-lo” stirrups and bright adjustable lamp. Trent stands to the side with his arms crossed. Pete has asked him to assist, and the larger boy agreed. “You’re still a bit numbed now, but you’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Pete tells me quietly. “Please go along, and trust me. These are dangerous men. If they want to kill you for their pleasure, they can. They can even ask me to do it, and I’d have no choice. You are nothing but meat to them. That’s what they see all day long—that’s how they have to be to survive their jobs. If they see you as human . . .” He fidgets uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “Just know . . . whatever I do tonight—I’m trying to save your life." “And act like you enjoy it!” Trent put in. “But I do,” I say, gazing dazedly at his face. The men from the plant are arriving in their cars. I can’t see them because the parking lot is to the back of the building. But I can hear the gravel crunch under the wheels, and then the hurried footsteps. Three men enter and jerk to a stop, surprised to find us waiting. The man I know as Jake motions his friends to gather the chairs stacked high in a dusty corner, placing them in a semicircle behind the table’s bright light. “Are any more coming?” Pete asks. His hands are folded across his chest. Stupidly, I nod, the double dose of pills in my system are kicking in. Jake smirks as he cracks a beer. “Two more. Larry, the fellow you met last night, is one.” As the tall man speaks, the new arrivals appear in the doorway. Both are wearing work clothes from the plant, their white bloodstained shirts untucked. I am staring at the floor as the men join their friends. Trent catches my shoulders. He pulls me back, settling my head on a pillow. Pete raises my thighs, lifting my buttocks off the table as Trent stuffs pillows beneath my hips. My feet are placed in the stirrups and tied, then with mechanical clicks my legs are spread wide, a clamp on each side immobilizing my knees. A rubber device the length and width of a ruler is placed vertically between my labia folds. Pete bends it to the shape of my pelvis, and then turns a knob at its base. The device separates down the middle, and as the two halves widen, the folds of my girlhood are stretched apart and flattened, held in place against my body and out of the way. I close my eyes as the mouth of my cunt is revealed for all to see. Though I am still partially numb from my navel down, still I can feel the anticipating pulse of my tissue under the light. The men lean forward, and one of them points. “My God, she’s wet!” Pete smiles and steps in close. “Dani’s always ready,” he says. “Easy to open and obedient.” He tosses a pillow on the floor and kneels down. Sliding in a few fingers, he stirs my juices slowly as wet sounds fill my ears. He widens his circles, his fingers gliding over the spade shaped contours of my vagina to coat my girlhood, drawing the moisture down to my anus and back up. “Best lube on the planet,” he tells his observers. Slowly then, he inserts his whole hand, twisting slightly as he pushes in. “Would you look at that,” a man exclaims. “No resistance whatsoever!” “I told you she’s easy.” Pete smiles, fisting gently in and out, his action steady and smooth. He adjusts the light so the men can see, fisting casually, languidly, his free hand catching my fluid welling to the surface and spreading it around his wrist. The wet kissing sounds of my tissue yielding to his strokes is pleasant and relaxing to hear. I turn my head, smiling as he works. I feel disembodied, as if I’m levitating from the table as I stare blankly up. Pete pauses to lube both his hands, and I draw a deep breath, exhaling as I feel him twisting two-handed into my exposed and vulnerable cunt. He slides in with a firm push, the mouth of my pussy hugging his wrists. His body rocks forward and back slowly as he pumps me deep. I moan as I feel his hands separating within me. In this position he draws his hands up, pressing my pussy apart as he halfway exits, then holding his hands static, pushes back in. He turns his hands, his knuckles rubbing my cervix as once more he unlocks his fingers and pulls. “Do you see what I’m doing?” Pete asks his rapt audience. “By loosening up my hands or even pushing in opposite directions, I can expand her as I work.” I take deep breaths as Pete sinks widely back down. With every stroke he separates more, pushing hard against my interior. His hands break the surface and holds me stretched, his half-immersed fingers rotating slowly. “And now I can do this,” he says.” Embracing his fist with his other hand, he plunges in hard and snaps out. I am grunting along with his strokes, my thighs trembling above my immobilized knees. Pete is turning his hands as he thrusts, twisting more of my juices to the surface. I watch the clock, feeling dizzy as the pounding draws out, the sound of flesh slapping flesh as he connects and sinks down. Ten minutes, and then twenty, unendingly he thrusts. I feel cool air inside my cunt, my pussy staying open as he exits—too relaxed and stretched to spring back. The fisting continues as the men look on, with some of them leaping forward—eager for a glimpse as Pete stops and gapes me, my vagina yawning for the men to see. He fists me again with even more vigor, the men gathering at his back. “Won’t this destroy her?” one asks as Pete works. Pete laughs. “Naw, girls are made for this. Why do you think she was wet before I started? She knew it was coming and her body was preparing itself. She hungers for this. It’s a well-known fact; the female body yearns to be opened wide. To be prepared for motherhood.” The man looked down at Pete. “You sure know a lot of things.” “He reads,” says Trent with a chuckle. “As in all the time! Mr. Bookworm here.” “I also talk to my girl.” Pete nods at me. “Ask her yourself. Dani, do you enjoy being fisted?” The men wheel toward me, the ones still seated tilting to see my face. I moan and lick my lips, trying to think beyond the pounding. “She’s still too drugged,” Trent says. “I don’t think—” Pete cuts him off. “Dani,” he repeats loudly over my grunts. “Do you want these hands inside you?” I fight to focus on his face. “I . . . “ “Yes?” Pete urges. “Yes!” I gasp. “Yes, I want . . . yes, please!” “There you have it.” Pete parts his hands again as he works, the airy noises from my cunt filling the little room. Again he gapes me, holding me open for the men to see. “Can you try fisting one handed while your friend does that?” The man who was Jake’s partner askes. “So we can see your hand inside?” Pete brightens at this idea and nods to Trent. The larger boy reaches past Pete with both hands, his fingers gripping the bony top of my vagina for leverage while he stretches my lower wall down. Pete adds fingers to press back one side as his fist passes into my gaping cunt. Slowly he fists, his hand and wrist more visible now as it penetrates my body. “Okay, now do behind,” Jake says, licking his lips. “I assume you prepared her for that ahead of time, too?” “You men work hard; we wanted to give you a good show,” Trent replies. He is grinning as he hurries to flip me onto my side. My leg is lifted, held aloft by the rings above the bed. I am scooted down until the lower half of my buttocks extends over the table. My right foot drifts limply to the floor before Trent scoops it up, pushing my knee forward against my chest and securing it with straps to my body. Trent smears lube on his arms while Pete adjusts the light. “Do you want me to start her for you?” he asks, and Trent shakes his head. “No, I got this. It’s pretty easy once you get in.” Pete moves up beside me, catching my closest breast and kneading it hard. I feel Trent probing my anus with his fingers, slipping in fingers one by one. Slowly the hand works itself in, the fingers clamped into a cone shape. I feel the soft give as Trent slides into my rectum all at once, the tissue yielding as he ventures inward. “Nice,” Pete croons gently. “You’re a very good girl, Dani. Open wider for him, will you?” I sigh as the hand sinks into the deepest well at the core of my being. Trent leans his body forward, his knuckles rotating back and forth. Ever so slowly he withdraws his arm, then with a firm solid pressure, thrusts in to his elbow. I lay very still. I had never experienced just the anal by itself. The strokes are long and easy within my half-numbed body, the hand rising shallow toward my anus, then plunging back deep. The gas escaping from around his wrist makes my face burn hot. “Remember what matters,” Pete whispers in my ear. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He moves to crouch beside Trent. The larger boy is standing, using the weight of his body to pump in and out. Pete stirs the fluids of my cunt with his fingers, playing at the edges of my opening, using the lamp to explore it out. He expands it wide with two fingers from each hand, then inserts three as far as he can, reaching in and drawing out. He moistens the pink interior of my opened folds with my juices, then dives back in with four fingers now, turning them slowly within my opening. He stretches the lower wall of my pussy, then plunges deep with his free hand, fisting hard and fast alongside Trent. I am groaning now despite myself, the two hands filling my body. Then Pete clamps his free hand around his wrist, sliding in to my half-numbed cunt with just the slightest pause of resistance. The men are around us now, some taking pictures with their phones. The three hands plunge and retreat, dive in and pull out, my body rocking in time with the rhythm of their thrus Angela ~Chapter 1 of a book Angela ~Chapter 1 of a book · One on One · The Magic Glade By Nicholas Wolf Angela It was still only 9 o’clock‚ but already the temperature in the cottage was becoming unbearable. The windows were flung wide open‚ but with little breeze to stir the air this seemed to have little affect. “Well I can’t just sit here melting‚” Angela thought to herself‚ ”perhaps the woods would be a bit cooler. At least there would be fresh air and shade.” Her mind made up‚ she took her small backpack from the cupboard under the stairs‚ and went through to the kitchen. Taking two bottles of water from the fridge she dropped them inside. She went back through to the small lounge and looked around‚ searching. “Ah there it is‚ I knew I left it here somewhere.” She said to herself‚ as sun lotion followed the water into her pack. “Can’t be too careful.” She thought. “I know I’ve applied some already‚ but in this sun...” “Book‚ book.” She searched around‚ finally locating it on the table beside her favourite chair. “Can’t go without a book.” It was one of Angela’s pleasures in life to simply sit in a sheltered glade‚ or beside the small murmuring stream‚ and let herself be transported to other lands and times‚ lost in a good book. She took her wide brimmed straw hat from where it hung beside the door‚ and went outside‚ pulling the door shut behind her. Not bothering to lock it behind her she started down the garden path‚ and on reaching the gate turned right‚ and headed off towards the centre of the village. As she walked past the old church‚ making her way to the field beyond‚ a slight breeze caught at the hem of her thin cotton dress. “Aah! Much better.” She thought‚ and moved along more quickly. The field was lush‚ thick with grasses and wild flowers. This was the first really hot day‚ and this coming at the very end of August‚ she could remember all summer. The preceding weeks had been overcast at best‚ it seemed to have rained nearly everyday since April. The wild flowers grew in abundance. Red and yellow‚ white and pick‚ the field was a veritable kaleidoscope of colour. She bent and picked some blue‚ now almost faded to lilac‚ harebells from between the tall blades of grass‚ which she twirled between her fingers as she walked‚ getting ever closer to the inviting shade ahead. Suddenly smiling‚ she placed the flowers in the band of her hat‚ and skipped the remainder of the way. As she passed from bright sunshine into the shade of the trees‚ it was just as she had thought‚ the temperature dropped noticeably. It was cool. She stopped‚ removed her hat‚ and mopped the sweat from her brow and neck. Replacing it she headed off along the well-trodden track heading in the direction of the stream. It was a glorious day‚ and Angela felt good. She smiled at the twittering and chirping of the birds‚ chaffinch and willow-warblers amongst them. She was lost in the colours‚ shapes and textures of the trees and shrubs. There was dogwood and brambles. There were Ash‚ Alder and Oak‚ but her eyes always lingered on the birch. Of all the trees perhaps the silver birch was her favourite. Not long lived by tree standards‚ it gave it a kind of mortality. Not only that‚ she loved its’ silver bark which peeled back and curled in so many ways. She had long ago given up trying to find some kind of pattern‚ and put the numerous different shapes down to the whim of the tree‚ the elements and nature. She couldn’t resist pulling a piece back‚ revealing the brown of the wood beneath. A small shape scurried across the track ahead of her‚ moving to fast to identify. A shrew‚ a mouse perhaps? She sipped some water as she slowly walked along‚ enjoying the peace and solitude‚ the tranquillity. “Peace and tranquillity?” She thought‚ hearing the sound of a flute or whistle coming from close by. The sound was melodic and tuneful‚ the refrain hauntingly familiar‚ although she couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at the back of her mind‚ but refused to come forward. She turned in a circle trying to locate the source of the music‚ and finally drawn by the melody‚ pushed aside two bushes‚ and stepped between. She emerged in a sunlit glade‚ and looked around. Trees and shrubs with various coloured flowers surrounded a circle of soft lush grass‚ which seemed to cushion her feet as she stepped upon it. The scent of the sweet briar filled the air. The grass was cut short‚ which she found surprising‚ but what she found even more surprising was what she saw in the centre. Sitting on a long thick trunk of a tree was the musician behind the music. It was perhaps the smallest man she had ever seen‚ and he was staring straight at her. He lowered his flute from his mouth. “Top o’ tha mornin to ya‚ and how be you this fine sunny day?” “What?” She said. “I said Top o’ tha mornin..” “No‚ no I heard what you said‚ it’s just that you’re ..” Being no more that three feet tall‚ dressed in mainly green and brown‚ red hair‚ a matching coloured long bushy beard‚ and speaking in a broad Irish brogue‚ well he had to be “a leprechaun.” “Well is that what I be girlie‚ and am I not to your liking then?” “It’s just the shock‚ your accent‚ the speed you talk” She stopped‚ not sure how to continue. The small figure seemed to shimmer before her eyes‚ and was then surrounded in a bright white light. She lowered her eyes to the grass‚ shielding them against the sudden glare. As she noticed the light fade she raised her head. Her jaw dropped slightly‚ her lips forming an almost perfect ‘O’‚ and her eyes opened wide. “Well dear lady‚ is this more to your liking?” Angela looked quickly around the glade. “Where?...How?....Magic?..” “ Perhaps it seems magic to you my dear‚ but for myself‚ well. It’s just natural.” He started to explain before disappearing in white light‚ to be replaced by an Elf‚ with his distinguishing pointed ears and upward slanting eyebrows. Again the light flared‚ a giant fully 10 feet tall‚ and once more a glare caused her to avert her eyes. As the light faded a huge black wolf sat staring up at her with dark brown eyes‚ its long pink tongue hanging between sharp pointed fangs from its snout. Tilting its head back it let out a deafening howl‚ before itself being consumed by white light‚ which cleared leaving once more the well spoken man sitting on the log. Angela took a half step backward and just stood staring‚ to shocked and surprised to speak. “I’m so sorry‚ it wasn’t my intention to startle or scare you‚ I just aimed to demonstrate that what you referred to as magic‚ is in fact quite natural to me.” He apologised. “What? Oh that’s fine‚ startled not scared. Just give me a minute.” As she tried to gather her thoughts she focused on the man in front of her. Well spoken definitely‚ and from the accent and manners‚ certainly English. He was not young‚ but neither was he old. He was slim‚ but fit looking‚ she could see little sign of fat‚ his hair was dark‚ showing silver at the temples. He was dressed in a short sleeved shirt and shorts‚ and wore sandals on his feet‚ which rested on the ground. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his stomach‚ and she could see a hint of hair on his chest. As to his height‚ well perhaps two or three inches taller than she was. She stared into his light blue eyes. “The leprechaun‚ are you some kind of fairy?” She asked. “Excuse me!!” “Fairy‚ you know‚ magical folk.” “Would you mind spelling that for me please‚ fairy that is?” he asked‚ his eyebrows slightly raised. “F-a-i-r-y.” she answered matter-of-factly. “Hmm. Pronounced the same‚” he mused‚ “and yes I am a member of the ancient races‚ but we spell it F-a-e-r-i-e. I believe the term fairy when applied to a man has a whole different connotation now days.” Angela giggled‚ a tinkling‚ happy sound‚ and she raised her hand to cover her mouth‚ stifling a laugh. Having composed herself she lowered her hand. “Why yes I guess it does. She continued‚ now unable to contain her laughter‚ as she smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to imply...” “No‚ no don’t apologise‚ it is of no matter.” Her smiled back at her. “Where are my manners‚ won’t you sit down. May I offer you refreshment?” She waved the bottle she still held in her hand. “Yes I see you have water‚ but perhaps some cold juice‚ wine perhaps?” “Juice sounds good thank you.” “And to eat? Choose anything your heart desires.” He offered. “Well I am rather partial to cherries.” “Then cherries you will have. Please‚ do sit.” He gestured behind her to her right‚ and she turned her head. Where before there had just been grass‚ there was now a large coloured woollen blanket‚ with juice and a bowl of cherries at the centre. She moved to the blanket‚ and as he had offered‚ she sat. The blanket was incredibly soft‚ possibly the softest wool she had felt. She ran her hand up and down‚ enjoying the soft‚ almost sensual feel on her skin. She took a deep red cherry from the bowl‚ and sucked it into her mouth. Her teeth bit into the soft fruit and it burst‚ succulent juices covering her tongue. Mmm‚ she moaned quietly and let the juice slide down her throat‚ before chewing and swallowing the fruit. As she reached for a second she turned her head and noticed him moving towards her‚ his fingers undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt. He removed it‚ and dropped it to the blanket. Angela lent away from him. “Excuse me?” She asked. “Oh. I can assure you there is absolutely nothing to worry about. You can rest assured that I won’t molest you in anyway....unless you would like me to of course.” He smiled‚ and she thought she saw a twinkle in his eye. “I was merely going to sunbathe. I do so enjoy the sensation of the suns warmth on my naked flesh. He undid his shorts and let them drop to the ground‚ before stepping out of them. Angela coughed. He stood in front of her totally naked. She ran her eyes down his chest‚ his stomach. Beneath soft curly black hair‚ his manhood hung thick and limp between his legs. She licked her dry lips‚ before placing another cherry in her mouth. He lowered himself to lay face down‚ his head resting on his arms‚ the juice and cherries between them on the blanket. She removed her hat before‚ smoothing her dress‚ she too lay face down‚ her arms cradling her head. After about ten minutes he turned his head towards her. “Do you not sunbathe?” He asked. She turned her head to look at him. “Well not really‚ and well..” Her eyes seemed to scan around the glade. “Oh you don’t have to worry about that my dear‚ we really are quite secluded‚ and people seldom come here. In fact you’re the first in‚ Oh let’s just say a very long time. Do you not like to feel the heat of the suns rays on your naked body‚ it really can be quite invigorating‚ quite sensual.” “It’s just that‚ “she looked down at her dress‚” I’m not wearing much under here‚ and with you lying there‚” she looked down his back to his firm buttocks‚ “naked‚ well...” “Rest assured you are safe here with me‚ we’ll just share in the pleasure the sun gives us.” Not knowing why she even considered the idea‚ she sat‚ her arms going behind her back to the zip on her dress‚ and undoing it. As the straps began to slip down her arms‚ she looked him in the eye. “Well?” “Oh‚ please excuse me.” He turned his head and resting it again on his arms‚ looked away. She let the top of the dress drop down‚ then lay back to remove it completely‚ before folding it and placing it beside her on the rug. Then‚ like him she lay face down to enjoy the sun. He turned his head to face her. The sun did indeed feel nice on her skin. It’s warmth seeming to seep into her. The occasional breeze would stroke sensuously over her naked back‚ as if an invisible mouth were blowing softly. She looked across. The man’s eyes were shut‚ his breathing shallow‚ he looked so calm and peaceful. She felt an urge to stroke his cheek‚ and her hand reached towards him. She stopped. “Just what are you thinking?” She shook her head admonishing herself. “Cherries‚ think of the cherries.” As she lent up on her elbows to reach towards the bowl‚ she felt her nipples rub gently against the blanket beneath her‚ The softness of the woollen fibres seemed to stroke as soft as a feather‚ gently at the tips. She sighed softly. All thought of cherries slipped away‚ as lowering herself‚ she repeated the action‚ making her nipples stiffen slightly‚ to protrude from her breasts. “Mmm nice.” She thought‚ as once more she rubbed her chest backwards‚ and then forwards as she arched her back She stopped‚ now leaning on her elbows. She reached to take another cherry from the bowl‚ and moved it towards her parted lips. Tilted her head back she sucked this third cherry into her mouth. Sweet juices burst in her mouth as she bit down hard‚ and again she let them flow slowly down her throat. She looked at the glass on the rug beside her. “Who needs that?” She thought. After all‚ the cherries did both ease her hunger and sate her thirst. His eyes had been slightly open as she moved her hand towards him‚ and he had sensed the indecision in her. She wanted to touch him‚ but felt cheapened by the thought. He smiled‚ and his eyes moved down from his study of her face‚ to fix on the curves of her white breast‚ a merest hint of it’s dark pink nipple showing‚ its tip being cushioned by soft wool. Mmmm. His tongue slipped out between his dry lips‚ circling to moisten them. He tilted his head‚ returning his gaze to her face. He opened his eyes fully. “Would you like me to apply some lotion to your back? You are after all pale of skin‚ and the sun’s rays are quite powerful.” She reached a hand back over her shoulder‚ and touched her back. It did already feel a bit hot and slightly tender to the touch. “Well if you wouldn’t mind.” She reached for her pack‚ and pulled out the sun lotion. Placing it between them on the blanket she averted her eyes as he started to rise‚ turning so to kneel beside her. “Oohh!!” She shivered and a tiny squeal escaped between her lips. “Cold?” He asked her. “Just a bit. More the shock I think. Carry on.” He had drawn a line down her spine with the creamy lotion‚ and now began to massage it into the soft skin of her back. His hands moved in circling motions‚ moving slowly‚ his fingers stroking‚ up and down. He reached across her back‚ stroking down her side. The tips of his fingers softly brushed the side of her breast. She turned her head‚ once again resting it on her arms‚ and looked at him‚ her eyes barely open. On his face was a look of intense concentration as he stroked her‚ his fingers pushing at her skin as he massaged her back‚ and up over her shoulders. Again he rubbed over her side‚ this time his fingers lingering slightly‚ pushing gently at the softly yielding flesh beneath. She looked down‚ his member was slightly larger now‚ thicker‚ longer‚ and seemed to be growing before her eyes. Her mouth felt dry‚ as she moaned softly to herself‚ her passion beginning to rise. Smoothing the lotion onto her skin his hands moved lower‚ the tips of his fingers sliding inside the waist of her white panties. Her eyes opened wider as he looked down at her face‚ his eyebrows raised in question. She nodded slightly and felt his fingers once more stroke and caress her lower back. Her nerve ends were fired‚ tingling‚ as he expertly stroked and caressed her. Her imagination took wing‚ and carnal images vied for position in her head. She moaned softly as she saw him move down her body‚ and out of her line of sight. She felt her legs eased slightly apart‚ and felt the hot skin of his legs on the inside of her calves. He ran lines of lotion down the back of her legs. With strong fingers he stoked upwards as if easing the tightness from her muscles. He stroked down the outside of her thighs‚ her calves‚ before again rubbing upwards‚ his thumbs this time stroking up the inside of her legs. Higher and higher‚ stopping just short of her panties‚ to stroke softly back down. She felt a tingle exciting her body‚ felt her nipples stiffen against the soft wool‚ felt heat build between her legs‚ as he again stroked firmly up her legs‚ her inner thighs. “Would you prefer an all over tan do you think?” She was started back to reality by the unexpected sound of his voice‚ and turned her head to look at him. She nodded as she slowly raised her hips from the ground. He leant forward and slid his hands under the waistband before sliding her panties over her hips and easing them down her legs. He moved to kneel beside her as he slipped them over her feet‚ and placed them on her dress. He looked up at the curves of her firm cheeks. Round‚ firm succulent‚ like a peach he was eager to bite and taste. He ran his still lotion-coated hands over them‚ stroking‚ squeezing‚ kneading them‚ as she tensed her muscles. Angela could only moan‚ as her body trembled with suppressed emotion. She raised her self on one elbow‚ and looked back at him. She could see the tension in his face‚ the inner tension that had grown as he had massaged and stroked her back‚ as he had caressed her legs and her cheeks. His member had continued to swell and grow. It was harder now‚ not hanging‚ but rather its tip pointing sideways at his hip. She rolled to her back. He stared down longingly‚ taking in the roundness of her firm white breasts‚ with their dark pink nipples jutting proudly from their centres. His eyes moved down‚ taking in the flatness of her stomach‚ her slim waist and small rounded hips‚ finally resting on the dark delta between her legs. He swallowed hard‚ his mouth felt dry‚ and again he circled his lips with his tongue. He looked back to her face. She was wearing a mischievous smile‚ as she picked up the bottle of lotion from where he had left it. He gave a small cough. “The front my dear?” His voice sounding husky. “Hmm.” She lent slightly forward‚ and poured some lotion into her left hand. She slowly raised it moving it up to first cup‚ and then close it around her right breast. She squeezed‚ and he saw the creamy liquid ooze between her fingers‚ and run slowly down her stomach. She held the bottle towards him‚ her eyes now fixed on the wide girth and the long length of his cock‚ which stood fully erect in front of him‚ throbbing. Sighing‚ she moistened her lips. “Legs perhaps.” He took the proffered bottle from her hand‚ and poured the thick lotion onto his palm. Dropping the bottle‚ he rubbed his hands together. Her hand squeezed and rubbed at her breast‚ slowly circling. Her fingers squeezed at the firm nipple‚ pulling‚ leaving it glistening in the sunlight. She stroked across to her left breast and caressed and squeezed‚ tweaking her nipple‚ pulling then releasing. Backwards and forwards‚ stroking‚ caressing‚ pinching‚ twirling her stiff nipples. Her right hand moved lower to trace circles and stroke her stomach‚ the tips of her fingers briefly touching her soft pubic hair‚ before once more returning to the blanket at her side.. He stroked up the front of her legs‚ leaning towards her‚ watching as she gently writhed‚ and softly murmured‚ her tongue licking her lips‚ as she lost herself in her pleasure. Down the outside quickly‚ his needs building inside him. He stroked up the inside of her thighs‚ Angela moaned louder as his fingers reached the top‚ fingers stroking outward‚ circling‚ to meet‚ to twist and tease her hair. She raised her hips as his fingers retraced their route back around her pussy‚ and then down her legs. Again she felt his hands stoke her thighs‚ and again they parted at the top to toy with her soft hair. Once more he gently stroked‚ her sense of anticipation‚ her frustration‚ building as she yearned to feel his touch between her legs. She stroked and squeezed harder at her breasts thinking‚ “please... please.....” She raised her hips higher‚ thrusting towards him‚ as she felt his hands on her legs‚ stroking ever nearer to the heat between her thighs. “Oooh!! Aaah!!” She moaned‚ as she felt not his finger‚ but the tip of a soft velvety tongue lick slowly up her lips. She looked down to see him looking up at her‚ the bottom of his face hidden between her legs. He lowered his head‚ and she sighed as again his tongue licked slowly up her pussy. Slowly‚ gently‚ sensuously he used his tongue to tease and please‚ licking up her now swelling lips. Up‚ his tongue easing them slightly apart‚ pushing slightly harder. She was hot and wet‚ and her juices started to flow slowly between her lips. “Mmmm.” He licked‚ savouring her taste on his tongue. His tongue moved faster now as he licked‚ up and down. It pushed harder‚ probing. He buried his face deep between her legs‚ pushing his tongue fully out‚ to slide it into her. Again he moaned at the taste of juices on his tongue‚ her heat surrounding it. Angela was moaning softly as she lowered her hands to grip the back of his head as she felt his tongue swirl inside her. Squeezing her thighs in his strong fingers he moved his tongue slowly in and out of her. In and out‚ licking her juices into his mouth to savour their taste‚ before letting them slide down his throat. He stopped‚ and she felt his head push back against her hands‚ and reluctantly she let go. She leant forward as he sat back to kneel between her knees. She sighed at the sight of his member‚ which stood proudly throbbing‚ its’ purple tip shining in the bright sunlight. She reached out and stroked the tips of her fingers down its’ hard length. He closed his eyes‚ sighing at her touch. “Perhaps that would be a little easier.” He nodded back over his shoulder directing her gaze behind him. The trunk was now draped with woollen fleeces‚ which covered the top‚ hanging down over the sides. She nodded‚ and taking her hands in his‚ he helped her to her feet. Hand in hand they walked naked across the glade. Taking her waist‚ he lifted her to the broad trunk‚ lowering her gently onto the fleece-covered top. He eased her slightly back before kneeling between her legs. Stroking his hands up the backs‚ he raised them and placed them over his shoulders. She lay her head back‚ and raised her hips‚ longing to feel his tongue once more buried deep inside her. He bent forward‚ and again started to lick his velvet tongue up and down her wet and eager pussy. His blood more fired his licking became my urgent‚ as his hands stroked up and down‚ and around on her stomach. His tongue stabbed out pushing hard and fast between her lips‚ and into her sweet tasting hole. In and out‚ in and out‚ Angela moaned and her muscles tensed‚ her legs gripping the sides of the head between them. In and out‚ in and out‚ the tongue felt wider‚ longer‚ felt rougher as it now darted in and out of her‚ harder and faster. Her pussy lips parted further as the tongue seemed to grow‚ pushing them wider to take its’ size‚ and licking deeper and deeper inside her. Angela saw an image of a black wolf with shining eyes‚ a long rough tongue hanging from its’ snout between pointed fangs. She looked down‚ it was a man not a wolf‚ but still she couldn’t shake the image from her mind. “Aaah!!” She groaned‚ the tongue seemed to fill her‚ as it continued to slide in and out‚ twirling‚ licking‚ burying itself deep. In and out‚ in and out‚ the tingling between her legs grew‚ spreading through her pussy‚ and out across her stomach and chest tingling her hard jutting nipples. His hands squeezed her breasts. Every nerve end in her body was stimulated‚ excited‚ and she writhed moaning as he continued to lick her inner walls. The tongue slid out to lick hard up over her clit‚ his mouth sucked hard. “Yeeeess!!” She screamed out‚ as wave upon wave of electrical energy seemed to shoot outwards. Her back arched‚ her muscles contracted as she shook and shivered‚ her orgasm electrified and heightened her senses. Her clit and nipples tingled and throbbed. As her orgasm subsided she sat up to see him now standing between her legs. “Mmmm Thank you?” she told him. “The pleasure was mine‚ I can assure you.” She watched his mouth as he spoke. His tongue was quite normal. “I must have been lost in the moment‚ in the intense sensations.” She thought shaking her head slightly. She lowered her eyes to look at the length of hard flesh protruding upwards from his loins. She slipped down from the trunk‚ and extended her hand to wrap her fingers slowly around it‚ and squeeze firmly. “More mine I think‚ but let’s see shall we.” She slowly pulled down‚ exposing his tip. Up‚ then down. She bent‚ her tongue slipped out between her lips. Up then down she stroked before she gently licked the very tip of her tongue along the slit on the end‚ tasting his seeping juice. His eyes were closed as he moaned softly. She took him into her mouth‚ licking around his hard flesh‚ as she gently sucked. Slowly‚ rhythmically she moved her head up and down‚ sliding him between her lips as her hand stroked up and down his cock. He gently gripped her arm and pulled her hand away. She looked up in surprise. “Not that way.” He said‚ and holding her shoulders‚ he turned her and bent her over the tree trunk‚ laying her on a soft woollen fleece. His fingers slid between her legs‚ and started to stroke forwards and backwards. Forwards and backwards he gently stroked her pussy‚ as her juices started to moisten his fingers. Forwards and backwards‚ she felt the heat build‚ her juices begin to flow. He slipped a finger slowly inside her. “Mmmm.” And she moaned. In and out his finger probed‚ as she grew hotter and wetter. He inserted another finger. In and out in and out he pushed and stroked. He moved forwards towards her‚ his hand wrapped around his length‚ lowering it and sliding it between her legs. She reached back between her legs‚ her thumb and forefinger circling his hard cock. She stroked it up and down her slit‚ lubricating the tip‚ before guiding him inside her. Holding firmly on her hips‚ he bent his back‚ easing his own hips forward to slowly push himself deep inside her. She felt his stomach push against her cheeks. “Aah.” He groaned. He just stood‚ his cock fully inside her‚ lost in the sensation of her wetness and her heat surrounding it. Pulling back his hips he slid almost out‚ before once again sliding slowly back inside her. In and out‚ in and out‚ a slow‚ easy rhythm. As Angela moved started to mirror his movements he withdrew his length until just the tip was inside her. “Hmm?” Slightly frustrated she looked back over her shoulder. He drove his cock in hard. “Aaah!!” She moaned as she was forced forward‚ Her hands gripped tightly on the fleece. Again he pulled almost out and stopped‚ teasing her once more‚ before driving hard back into her. Out‚ and he stopped‚ sliding slightly in and out‚ savouring her growing sense of frustration‚ as she squirmed‚ pushing her pussy back towards him. She felt his hands grip over her shoulders‚ and he forced his hips quickly forward to bury his cock hard and deep. “Ooh Yess!!” Angels raised her head‚ words and sounds coming unbidden from her lips. As he pumped backwards and forwards‚ his actions more urgent‚ harder‚ she was forced forwards‚ just the tips of her toes now touching the lush grass. In and out‚ his arms beneath hers‚ his hands clutching her shoulders and pulling back in time to his action. “Ooh ! Aah!” They moaned as one‚ as she felt him‚ move faster and faster. His cock seemed to swell more‚ becoming thicker and longer. “Aahh!!” She moaned as it buried deep inside before sliding out. In‚ and his hands moved to the top of her shoulders. Out‚ his hips moved back. In‚ and she felt nails‚ yet not nails‚ dig into her flesh. No not nails‚ they felt more pointed‚ harder‚ perhaps more like claws. He racked them down her back as he again powered his now huge cock into her. She moaned‚ and groaned‚ pain mixed with passion‚ with lust. He filled her‚ and she could feel her juices seeping round his hard flesh to run down her inner thighs. As he drew his length back he grabbed her shoulders. As he powered back into her willing yielding flesh‚ his nails or claws scratched down her back. In and out‚ in and out‚ his rhythm now regular and hard. Angela looked back over her shoulder‚ not certain what she would see. His cock had swollen and grown‚ longer‚ thicker‚ like nothing she had experienced before‚ as he now fucked her hot pussy harder and faster. His face seemed unaltered‚ his eyes closed‚ mouth open and moaning as he rode her. However his chest seemed broader‚ his arms seemed larger‚ more hairy. His hand on the back of her head pushed her face down. His action slowed‚ his thrusts becoming longer‚ harder as his passion grew yet higher‚ more intense. He lay on her back‚ and she felt his hot breath on her neck. “Oow!‚ Aah!” She let out a groan of pain mixed with pleasure‚ as his teeth bit hard on her neck‚ his teeth feeling sharp and pointed. He raised his head and howled as his cock jerked inside her‚ his hot seed bursting against her inner walls. Angela’s breathing became short‚ as she panted‚ sighing and moaning. Shocks again ripped through her body‚ her swollen clit seemed to spark. Her pussy muscles contracted around his length as he jerked again sending more of his cum spurting into her already full pussy. Every muscle in her body contracted and she writhed‚ as electricity seemed to play over her‚ her nipples so hard now that they ached. He held her hips burying his still jerking cock deep inside her as his lust spent itself‚ and his orgasm subsided. Dressed now in his shirt and shorts‚ he zipped Angela’s dress. When she had finally been able to raise herself from the fleece blanketed trunk‚ Angela had seen no visible evidence that he had ever been other than she had first seen him as a man. He was no bigger and no hairier‚ his member was surely that of a ‘healthy’ man. So why couldn’t she shake the image of the wolf from her mind. Wolf-man‚ Man-wolf‚ no surely not. But then hadn’t he been able to change his appearance? “Did you....did you... well sort of change?” She hesitantly asked him. “Change‚ in what way? My passion definitely rose to great heights‚ and my senses‚ well you all but rid me of those‚ but change? No I don’t think so. I’m still just a man.” “Hmm?” Angela was not so sure. Taking her by the hand he walked her back to the spot where she had entered. “Well my dear‚ I can only thank you for what has been a truly memorable‚ and thoroughly enjoyable day‚ but night draws on and I’m sure you would not wish to be walking these woods in the dark. I would see you safely home‚ but I am afraid that is quite impossible.” Angela looked around‚ and for the first time noticed that the sun was indeed low down above the tops of the trees. “Dusk already?” She thought‚ it didn’t seem as if she had been here that long. “EIGHT HOURS?” She thought with surprise. She couldn’t believe it‚ but judging from the position of the sun it must have been about that long. “No‚ I mean yes. Yes I guess I must be going‚ and thank you‚ I’ll be fine.” It was certainly not what she was thinking‚ but all she was about to say. “Will I see you again? I didn’t even know this glade was here.” “Perhaps my dear‚ for anything is possible. As for the glade‚ well it is always here‚ but can not always be seen. So as I say‚ perhaps‚ and should you want to enough‚ you may find your way back.” He turned her towards the gap in the undergrowth‚ and she stepped through. Turning back to say good-bye‚ all she saw were bushes and wild flowers where just moments before had been a beautiful glade. She shook her head‚ turned and began the walk home. Perhaps it hadn’t turned out to be such a bad summer after all. 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Thought about a cruise…everything was booked on the major lines for a year or so. Looked into an all-inclusive…the choices were slim, none for the bigger names, but found an opening in one obscure resort that actually got my blood moving. My husband said that I should do my research and then book it if I wanted, just make sure it would fit within our schedules. I booked it. Only problem was it would be tight for my husband. He was scheduled for a business trip that at the earliest would put him there late on the first day of the ten day reservation. And unfortunately, he would have to leave before the ten days were up. He told me, just in case, to book both of us on the flights as if we both could make it and if not, he would take alternative transportation and we would just eat the added cost. The resort sounded idyllic…nestled on a secluded area of a small pristine island in the Caribbean. Even though it seemed to be small there was the option of using an adjoining resorts facilities and entertainment events. The one caveat, the other resort was described as pretty risque…promoted their beach as a “clothing optional” area and called their events as “excitement for swingers at heart”. This raised the hair on the back of my neck…in a good way. Thought that this just might be the thing to spice up our lackluster sex life. My memory raced back ten years and pulled out a chapter in my life I never really shared, to my knowledge, with my husband. I had a three-month affair with a co-worker, he was fresh out of college and the company had me as his mentor before shipping him off to a territory. In reality, he mentored me. He might have been eight years my junior, but his eight inches had decades more experience than me. Never fails, even after ten years, the thought still excites me. Still, there is always the lingering guilt. Not necessarily the infidelity part, but the fact a month after he left, I had an abortion. Did not take much of a jump to know it was his, my husband had a vasectomy when I was pregnant with our fourth child. So it was obvious that the fetus was not his. So the thought of a hedonist resort next door got my juices going. Maybe my husband could be persuaded into a little extracurricular activity…and I could use it as an excuse to pursue my own illicit desires. I visualized myself with all kinds of different guys, in quite a few different scenarios. The weeks leading up to our trip pretty much wore out my vibrator. Then the planning of the trip started to hit speed bumps. My sister was going to “baby sit” my sons and daughters, but then her mother in law had an accident. Thankfully, after a week of stress, I found refuge with one of my friends. But Mark was without a place, or should I say, someone to watch over him. Granted, Mark was just about to turn eighteen, just so happens two days after my own birthday. When I would be on the island. Still, there was no way I would leave my man-child alone in my house. Already knew he was not a virgin, and without a doubt he had a lot of girls to choose from. I did not want him knocking up some girl and suffering the rest of his life. Five days before I was to leave, a friend from work offered to take him in. I was kind of skeptical, because at times Julie seemed to be just a little bit oversexed. Even though she was married, I had caught her looking at Mark as if she was a wolf salivating over a large steak. Or as she kept telling me, she was a Cougar on prowl for the next cub. The next day, my husband called…he would not be able to make it to the island until the middle of next week at the earliest. At best he would have maybe two full days. Great…maybe I should cancel too, ran through my mind, the disappointment must have resonated thru the phone. My husband caught it, and then he hesitantly suggested that I go on the trip. The rebuttal never made it past my larynx…my mind already envisioned myself as a wild animal feasting on tender flesh. All that escaped my mouth was a sharp grunt. It was not a grunt of objection. Still, he sounded conciliatory and then asked if Mark was taken care of because maybe he could go with. I quickly tried to think of an excuse, since I did not tell my husband about my fantasies or the neighboring resorts enticing assets. Shit…hell…I really wanted to go. Told him that I would ask Mark, but he probably would not want to go with his Mom. I was wrong. That evening Mark gave an exuberant, resounding yes to going. He read the brochures…and Mark being Mark, could not wait to check out the place next door. Even though that was my same intention…I shook at the thought of my son chasing naked women in my presence. But…if I wanted to go, guess Mark would have to tag along. Started to repack my stuff, did not think that I would need to bring some of my more intimate items, but then pulled out the string bikini I had bought for just this occasion. I thought about how I looked when I had tried it on…this might be the last time I could get away wearing something like this…hell, I flat out looked dynamite in it. To heck with it, son or no son, I was not going to let him stop me. It was just a little amusing when we checked in at the airport, the travel itinerary said Mr. and Mrs. We both laughed, but then again he is a Mr. and I am a Mrs. Joked about it during our travels too. Kind of played it up also, when they called us to the flight desk by Mr. & Mrs., we walked up with our arms around each other just to get a response. I got a positive wink and nod from the attendant behind the counter…then she leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m jealous…have fun with your cub”. Don’t know why, my vanity or whatever, but as we turned I grabbed Mark’s ass and gave it a squeeze knowing full well the attendant was watching. Mark jerked from surprise and then mouthed “what the hell, Mom”. I just playfully smiled back. When we got to the resort and checked in, we were still listed as Mr. & Mrs. But when the gal asked for our room preference, I said two beds. She looked quizzically at me and then mentioned that the only room left with two beds is the special needs one. Great…put a cripple out or share a bed with my son. I asked, “King size?” Glad I did it, our room was awesome, the double doors opened up to the beach. The other resort fence was not more than a few feet from our porch. The iron gate that separated the properties was only twenty feet away, the open bars offered a tantalizing peek into the hedonic environment. Just on the other side of the gate, a muscular man standing totally unembarrassed…completely nude, his gorgeous penis swinging in front of him as he talked with buxom naked woman. I could not take my eyes off of them, I was mesmerized…so was my son. Then he talked, “Wow…nice tits…this room is fantastic”. I hit him in the arm and feigned anger, “Mark…that is not something you say in front of your Mother!” “Oh, I am sorry, “ he faked having any remorse; “you have nice ones too”. “Nice what?” I had thought for a second I might have heard him wrong. “Tits…you have nice tits too, Mom”. “Mark…I am your Mom…stop it. Anyway, how would you know?” I quickly scanned my memory banks just in case. “Just guessing”…then slipped in, “but I am sure I’ll find out”, as he tilted his head towards our neighbors. I was just a little flabbergasted, but to be honest, a little proud that my just about eighteen-year-old son thought of his mother being able to hold her own. I quickly took stock of the room. It was not laid out for those with even a smitten of humility. There was a large tub, big enough for multiple people, totally exposed in the corner of the room, right along side a glassed in shower stall. Thought that there had to be a bathroom somewhere. Sure enough there was one, but behind the door was just a toilet and sink. Suppose that I would be using the fresh water shower down at the beach…no way I would use these in front of my son. Mark must have correctly read my consternation, a goofy smile stretched across his face as he looked at the tub and then at me. “Not in a million years, bucko”, I intentionally spit out to make sure he did not get the wrong idea. His face contorted into a pout. “Jeez Mark…I am your Mother for Christ’s sake” but I was actually amused at his reaction. At this point of time, there was not a deviant consideration in any way or form regarding the possibility of even remotely contemplating something physical happening between my son and I. But…this short back and forth, his expressions and my verbal responses were in a playful mode. So my antenna never went up in defense so to speak. Ok…we were settled in and I wanted to go to the beach, have a cocktail, unwind a bit from ten hours of total travel time. “I do not know what you want to do, but I am going to relax on the beach” I said more to myself than Mark. I grabbed my suit, hesitated when the skimpiness of it hit me, then told myself what the hell and went into the bathroom to change. Putting on my, err...my suit if you can call it that, as was obvious in my reflection of the mirror that this attire would not be socially acceptable around children back home. Especially considering one of them could possibly be my almost adult son. Heck, the small triangles covering, barely covering enough of my breasts to hide most of my areola’s, did nothing to leave the size of each of tits to the imagination. My full “C” cup mounds were pretty much out there for display. I wondered for a second if the small strings had enough tensile strength to hold them up. Scanning down and making a slight twist…the string running between my legs and up my ass crack was nowhere in sight. Fortunately, for my age, my exposed ass cheeks still had enough firmness, so as not to look as though I had saddlebags dragging behind me. As I turned back… even though I had thought I had trimmed and shaved my lower part back home, the small tuft of hair on my pubic mound could be seen just above the couple square inch patch of cloth covering me down there. Shit…too late now. I pulled the bottoms off, lathered up a little and with only three of four passes with my razor…my vaginal area reverted back to pre puberty. Gathered myself up and opened the door. I do not know who was more surprised. Mark apparently had decided late that he could quickly change into his swimsuit and figured by standing in front of the bathroom door, he could block it just in case. That did not happen, I swung the door harder than anticipated, it hit him in the head just as he was bending over to pull up his swimsuit. He went down on his back…his swimsuit around his ankles. My son’s penis flopped in an arch to his belly; I could not stop my eyes from focusing on it. My God, my son’s dick is bigger than his father’s is all that came to mind. Then it started to grow. Mark’s mouth was gapping open…he…he was staring almost in a mesmerizing way. Yet his eyes coursed over my torso…then I realized my jaw was slack too…Holy Shit…my son’s cock was now rigid…it had to be close to my ex lover’s…I shook my head coming to my senses. This all happened in less than a minute. I gurgled out, “Ah…sorry, should not have opened the door so fast. Uhmm…let me get out of your way” as I stepped over him. In and effort to not step on him…had to look, my eyes automatically went back to his cock. My psyche tried in vain to supplant morality for the lustful vision of my own son’s penis floating in my brain. Damn…I needed a drink. Made it down to the beach, spread a towel on a beach chaise, adjusted my sunglasses, and got comfortable. The first daiquiri soothed the quandary of my conflicting thoughts and started me on the path to ignoring some of my inhabitations. I rationalized that maybe my multiple week build up of expectations might have triggered some psychosis, so to get my mind off of “that” penis started to recon my surroundings. From my vantage point, not fifty feet from the wall separating the two resorts, I had an almost unrestricted view away from the neighbors, but towards the neighbors the wall blocked the angle to seeing more than a few feet of their beach. I actually thought about moving the chaise closer to the shore in hopes of visually intruding on their privacy. With a warm humor coursing through at the deviant thought, could not help but smile. But, better check out the locals first. Most of the patrons, from my resort, seemed to be a hundred or so yards away, accept two couples that were maybe twenty yards away. Noticed the two guys as I was originally walking onto the beach when one of them elbowed the other and nodded in my direction. It fed my ego immensely and it was all I could do so as to not let on. Thankfully my large, dark sunglasses allowed me to check them out without them knowing. As I settled in with my second daiquiri I had assessed the couple to be beyond the honeymoon stage and before the children raising stage at most in their late twenty’s. The two women were so engrossed in their own conversation; they completely ignored their two male partners standing with drinks their hands a couple of feet into the turf. Did not take much of a leap of logic to know that from the two guys vantage point, they had a direct line of sight to the “clothing optional” beach next door. From my standpoint, they appeared to swivel their heads in my direction more often than down the beach. Could not help but to check them out, mid to late twenties and physically fit, there was much to see. Let my mind wander as to what they might look like without their hip hanging swimsuits…where they hung? You think they would be interested in a “older” woman? Wonder if they would be interested in a threesome? That thought came out of nowhere…had never contemplated having two guys at once. The thought tickled my senses right down my spine. My nipples tightened at the thought. A quick glance at the women, they were completely in oblivion, and with the help of liquid encouragement I stood up and walked towards the water. Could have just gone right in front of me as I could feel their eyes capturing my every move. But…what the hell, let’s see just how interested they really are up close. So I altered my path to within feet of them, making sure that my movements yielded more sway than necessary and not in anyway disguising my sexual intent. My nipples were in full erection and had their full attention as I approached. While walking by, in a very planned move, I turned my head towards them lifted my sunglasses and checked out the front of their swimsuits. Raising my head I gave each a smile and wink then broke into the surf. The water was extremely warm, but felt good and still cooled down my libido a tad. Could not help feel a little of accomplishment at seeing the tents rise in those complete strangers. Movement to my left caught my attention, it was a couple over at the other resort, and even though they were quite a distance away…there was no question as to what they were doing. His back was slightly turned towards me but I could see her, and one copious tit bouncing unencumbered to each thrust he made into her. My audience was distracted…do not know what made me think they were “my” audience or why I should even care, but like a little kid throwing a tantrum for attention, I had to do something. I pulled off my skimpy top, stood up, and rubbed my tits as if they were covered in sand and I was cleaning them. It got their attention; I slowed the rubbing, their eyes glued to my chest. Brought a devious smile to my face…then to theirs. Did not last long, one of their women saw what was going on. She barked in a not so pleasant manner…like puppy dogs both the guys turned and shuffled back towards them, their heads down as if in guilt. Even from this distance, I could feel the daggers of anger coming from the eyes of the women. Oh well…so much for that. Returned my attention to the couple obviously fucking in the surf. Like a bug to a light, my feet moved me closer to them, my curiosity greater than my caution. As their details came into focus, my feet froze. The female was the one that Mark and I saw by the gate, she had to be at least my age or greater…the guy…it was Mark! I did not know how to handle this…was I jealous? Not because of my son necessarily, but more from me being extremely horny from teasing a couple of guys. All of which I knew deep down, due to the condition of having their female partners right there, nothing would have come from it. And here my son was, getting what in my mind was the real reason I wanted this trip. God damn, this woman…she was living my fantasy, not of my son but a young cock plying its hard youthful strength deep into her vagina…and not mine! Like stuck in a state of suspended animation, I just watched. She was driving down more and more violently as my son reciprocated, her head thrown back to the sky. Mark was peppering her neck, upper chest, with nibbling pecks. Then he closed around her nipple…pulling it between his teeth. I shivered at the thought of someone doing the same to me… Her breathing, even noticeable from my distance, had changed to gulping…then she arched hard against my son. My God…she just climaxed. Mark just froze and held her…did he cum too? A few minutes passed, they were still enjoined, her head now resting on his shoulder catching her breath. I could see Mark’s lower torso start almost imperceptibly to oscillate. The woman made a small whimpering sound. His oscillating movement was now interjected with an occasional thrust. She coughed up a grunt. On the second thrust, she raised her head, her arms around Mark’s neck. Their lips connected and by the third thrust they were locked into a full embrace. I watched as the crescendo built, first it was a few oscillations to every thrust, but as minutes passed, it was down to one each. My one hand was now between my legs, rubbing my fully swollen clit. I was not thinking from the stand point that that was my son fucking, it was just a cock that should be in here…as I stabbed as deep into my cunt as I could while rubbing my clit with my thumb. Any pretense of him oscillating his hips were now gone…he was just pounding, hard and long strokes as deep as he could into her. She was back to gulping air, her fingers digging into Mark’s shoulder. He definitely did not care. Just a few strokes later, could have been more but my own orgasm washed over me, a unfiltered screech came from her mouth as she arched her back at the same time my son arched his and growled grunts in conjunction with each spasm of his tightening ass cheeks. I came with the thought of each jettison of that man gunk spraying the inside of my womanhood. Their uncoupling was as if in slow motion, the woman dropping her suspended legs back into the surf. My son’s, still swollen, but semi flaccid, cock plopping out from between her thighs…a glistening string of goo reflecting in the bright sun. The woman saw me; a smile broke across her face. She reached down and held my son’s still ample cock as if offering it to me. Mark turned his head in the direction her attention, a moment of confusion on his face, a split second of guilt, then a slight smirk as his eyes cascaded down the front of me. My hand was still between my legs…the bottom of my swimsuit nowhere near me. An immediate flush of embarrassment came over me. I turned and made quick movements to the shore…my bottoms had washed up to the waters edge, I just grabbed them and a towel to wrap around me as I hurriedly made my way to our room. An hour later, my composure somewhat recovered, I was sitting on a chair when Mark came back in. The previous hour had started with dealing with my embarrassment to finishing with how I was going to deal with Mark’s apparent voyeurism. Any thought of using the emotion of embarrassment on Mark was immediately dispelled when Mark walked in. He was completely naked. His relatively large cock just swinging in front of him. He made absolutely no attempt to cover up; in fact he was making it a point to give me total views of it. I tried to look away, but he stood directly in front of me, his hunk of meat in my peripheral vision. “Mark…is it necessary to hang that thing out in front of your Mother?” There was just a little of an edge to my tone. “Why do you say that, is there something wrong with it?” He was being sarcastically immature. I was about to get defensive and lay the Mom thing on him. “Seriously Mom…I know that back home this would be considered all wrong, but next door, they say we are too hung up on nudity…that it is natural and we should not be ashamed of it. Don’t you agree? I mean…well, I saw you at the beach…uh, before and after you saw me.” I could feel my face flush, where was he going with this? “What do you mean…before?” I consciously wanted to avoid the incident involving my involuntary masturbation…and then getting caught. “Come on Ma, it was obvious to anyone you were trying to get those two guys attention. I mean really, you made sure they got an eyeful every time you moved”. “What are you talking about?” I was feigning ignorance. “Mom, you parked yourself right under the security cameras”. Oh shit…that is why the portion of the beach is almost empty. Mark continued, “tell you what, you have nothing to be ashamed about…you are one hot looking chick”. I could feel myself blush…apparently compliments work. “By the way, told you that you have nice tits!” Ugh…mental conflict spun in my head. All for compliments…but it is one thing to have my kid say I am a hot looking chick, but to actually point out sexual assets…never mind, stroked ego over decency every time. A “uhm…thanks” slipped out of my mouth. Not realizing I was staring directly at his penis dangling in front of me. He knew it, “Most of the people around here seem to keep themselves bare down there, like you,” so much for keeping the after out of this conversation “do you think I should shave it off?” God…what the hell does a Mother say? “It is up to you…” “Then why did you do it?” Am I really having this conversation with my son…who is standing just a couple of feet in front of me with a cock at least half again as big as his Father? “It is cleaner this way…and for appearances” Should have said something about appearance in my swimsuit or underwear…didn’t have a chance though. “Oh...you were planning on being nude…I must get it from you. Can I see?” I was just slightly flustered…not only from the audacity of his question, but the implication apparently was causing blood to rush to his extremity. I actually think he might be as large as my ex-lover… “Err…NO…for Christ’s sake, Get that thing away from your Mother”. Tried to sound authoritative with a hint of disgust…he saw right through it. “I’m going into the whirlpool…you can join me if you want” he said with slight laugh. “Don’t really think that would be right…but thanks for the offer.” I said in a very dilatory way. Took him twenty minutes to get the whirlpool up to temp before he climbed in…it did look relaxing and the swirling, bubbling water did cover him pretty much. Ah…what the heck, we don’t have one at home…I’ll wear my swimsuit…he is under the water. A glass of wine and relax. Mark had a shit eating grin when he saw me place my full wine glass in the cup holder. “Don’t get your hopes up kiddo…I am wearing my suit” I said jovially. Then I remembered that my Suit was sent down with the laundry and I would not get it back until the morning. Ah shit…”Mark…turn your head and do not look” I said with authority and meant it. I dropped my robe and started to climb in…Mark was looking the other way. At my totally nude reflection on the window! I slid into the water. “Damn Mom…you are even better up close!” “Don’t get any ideas, kid” even though a warm flush coursed through my body. Caught him checking our my tits every once in awhile but it did not bother me too much, could have been the wine taking affect or maybe I just did not care as our conversation went from banal to the event of the day. “You didn’t waste anytime meeting the neighbors did you?” this was precipitated by my curiosity and knew it would lead to where I wanted to go. “Nope, right after you left to sit on the beach, George from next door came over. Just to let you know…he was looking for you. Since you were already gone, he invited me over” Mark emphasized the “he was looking for you” part. “So I took him up on it” Mark was in story telling mood, as if he was discussing a camping trip, “When I told him I was only seventeen, but would be eighteen in a few days, he said that in this country sixteen is the magic number”. “What do you mean?” Was that the age of majority or just as far as sex goes? “Girls can get married at twelve with court permission, fifteen without. Guys at fourteen with court permission and at sixteen anything goes”. “So… was that woman?” my curiosity was pegged. A big smirk came across his face, “You mean Mary Anne?” “What do you mean? There was more than one?” had trouble controlling my emotion, my son is a frick’n slut? Not even contemplating the fact I was sitting with my naked kid with my naked body inches from his oversize dick. Ok…maybe I was aware of it. “Uh…yeah…but Mary Anne was the one I was with when you saw me”. “Who is she? Thought she looked a little old for you.” “Not really…she is only four or five years older than you”. If this was a compliment…it worked. Mark continued unfazed as to the shot of adrenaline that weaved from my glands to my bottom, “She is a school teacher from our state believe it or not…always dreamed about doing a teacher,” I think everyone has had that fantasy at one time or another; personally had a crush on my English teacher in High School…but our ages were much closer. Let’s see eighteen and forty-four or forty-five…I could feel my pores open up in my vagina at the thought. “Mary Anne had her boobs done awhile back and wanted an adventure before she got too old…guess I was or am part of it”. Damn…did that hit a spot of understanding! Not the boob part, but the last dance concept. Maybe I have a few years. “Is that it?” “Pretty much…unless you want the details” Apparently he wanted to go that route because he just continued not waiting for my response. He explained how as soon as he went next door, Mary Anne came and introduced herself as the one we both saw at the gate and asked about what the relationship was between him and me. Turned out that she also was on a similar vacation, she was there with her daughter, Crystal. Mark explained that he and I did not have that type of relationship. Apparently Mary Anne responded with a “too bad”. I wondered for a second if Mark was really repeating her or was expressing wishful thinking. After an initial flush feeling…I internally admonished myself for thinking that way. Mark continued as to how Mary Anne convinced him to “bare all”, which wasn’t too hard as once he looked around he knew he would not be embarrassed. But when he took his swimsuit off, she got all google eyed and after swiping his suit away from him she kind of embarrassed him by calling attention to his private parts in front of everyone. It dawned on Mary Anne at that point she had to make him comfortable. She took Mark to a slightly more private area, the area where the privacy cameras could be seen. He recognized me at the beach and pointed me out to her. Mary Anne told him that I was hot and if he had ever thought about he and I having sex. Unconsciously I leaned forward in anticipation of what his response was…don’t think he noticed, I didn’t myself. I wondered if my daughter and I would be this candid about this stuff…had to be a first for a Mom and son. He said that he mumbled an answer, whereas Mary Anne took that as a yes and instead of giving him a chance to refute her, she animatedly pointed to my actions as being in need of a good fucking. Based on the video. The whole time, Mary Anne was fondling his penis. “Mom, to be honest…watching you, listening to Mary Anne, her doing what she was doing to me…well, when Mary Anne stood up and sat on me…I could only hold out so long.” I wondered if he was implying that I had anything to do with his reaction. He continued. It had happened so quickly, Mary Anne did not have enough so she asked him if he had ever-felt fake boobs before and let him investigate with his hands, his mouth, and one thing led to another…they ended up out in the surf where I saw them. “Who were the other ones?” Not only my libido was stoked, so was my nefarious curiosity. “Only one…it was Denise”. He sounded like that was going to be it, but I was not going let it stop now. “So…explain Denise” I was adamant in getting a response. Mark hesitantly began; Mary Anne and he had gone back to festivities at the resort after their extracurricular activity in the water when Mary Anne was summoned to the office for a phone call. Mary Anne handed him off to Denise to complete the tour…Denise was interesting in that it was the first time he had actually been around a pregnant naked female. He said that even though she was showing pretty good, she told him that she was in her seventh month; she also had a very sexy aurora around her. Mark wondered out loud whether or not Denise not being much older than him, she was maybe in her mid-twenties and had a gorgeous face. Anyway, Denise told him that she was on her delayed honeymoon, patting her belly as if that was the condition needed for the honeymoon. Then she just flat told him she was going to have sex with him. He worried that he might hurt the baby…but Denise did something no other one had done to him. She went down on him. “Holy shit!” escaped from my mouth, the thought of almost eight inches of cock in my throat stunned me. No way she could take the whole thing. “Really Mom…took a few times…but she actually got the whole thing in her mouth. I…I could actually feel my…my cock in her throat. She put my hands on her neck so I could feel it going in and out!” Mark said excitedly…I moved my leg over one of his and accidentally rubbed his cock…I wanted to hesitate…shit, I wanted to feel it, see it…but, I did not. I wondered what it would feel like in my throat…and I have only given maybe ten or so blow jobs in my life. “Did you?” “Yep… could not hold back…right down her throat!” he was really excited about this. He said that Mary Anne never came back and Denise needed to do something so he started back here. Where he ran into Crystal, Mary Anne’s daughter. Even though he was naked…his suit disappeared, Crystal was fully clothed and just coming back from a sight seeing trip. This did not bother her at all. Mark’s tone changed…I surmised that Crystal made a different impression. He told me that Crystal was roughly his age and just had a fantastic personality. So why didn’t he pursue her I thought…was he worn out? In the next statement the reason became apparent, Crystal was at her time of the month and the resort does not allow the “Clothing optional” thing during that time. Then he announced that he told Crystal he would like to sight see too. Tomorrow they are going to the caves on the other side of the island. Good I thought, maybe I can take advantage of that…my vagina moistened at the thought, my brain switching back to horny mode. “So Mark, does a fake boob feel any different from a real one…of the same size?” It was a spontaneous question coming from the flash in my head of Mark talking about Mary Anne’s. Subconsciously I might have had an ulterior motive, but it was not dawning on me. “Uh?…uhm, don’t know…never really compared them”, but Mark’s eyes betrayed him, he focused on the top of my tits. I obliged and raised my chest out of the water. Knew full well this was wrong, but slid forward pulling Mark’s bent left leg between my spreading thighs while at the same time putting his hands on my tits. His jaw dropped and for a moment thought he was going to pull back. “They’re just tits Mark…what do you think…are they the same?” Can’t believe I was doing this, trying to even sound clinical. I wanted him to fondle, squeeze, twist,…hell I was ready to fucking rape him! He tentatively squeezed…then a bit more, the apprehensive look on his face turned to a more serious look…he was getting into it. My nipples yearned to be pulled…he did. I slid a little closer, Mark’s chin touched my cunt…a shock ran through my body making me jerk suddenly. My leg mashed against his balls and cock…sonofabitch…me being the bitch…in heat on top of that. I started reaching for that cock…completely ambivalent as to what I was about to do to my own son. Then the phone rang…the loud ring breaking through the fog of desire, the moment broken. Still I jumped out of the tub without a thought of humility…my naked body totally exposed to my son…I did not care. Until I picked up the phone and morality slammed me in the head. It was my husband, Mark’s father. I covered up with a towel as if there were eyes in the phone. The thought of getting caught by my husband with our son sent shivers through me. Mark on the other hand, had no vestige of humility, he climbed out, dried off, and throwing the towel in a corner then sat spread eagle in a chair facing me. That wondrous cock was in full display. My husband inquired into how our trip was going, if we had settled in. It dawned on me that Mark and I had only been here one day…seemed a lifetime ago, no that we had two different lives. Then he asked if Mark and I had anything exciting planned together. I lied and told him nothing yet instead of saying, “I was minutes away from fucking our son’s eyes out”. Then he asked to talk to Mark. When I handed the phone to Mark…he kind of blocked me in between the wall and the bed. I could not get around him unless I touched him. He saw that I was a little nervous about being that close…especially him being naked, me being naked under a towel, and his dad on the phone inches away. He was also expressing that smart-ass smirk as he listened to what ever his dad was saying. Knowing that I could not move without disrupting the conversation, I relaxed slightly. Mark caught that immediately and his had thrust under the towel grasping my left tit. To resist would have been futile and my surprised body jerk caused the towel to fall to the floor. He kneaded, then squeezed, slowly pulling towards my nipple. He turned to his right…his cock was right there…it was rigid. I fought the urge to grab it…did I want to push it away…or was I going to return the favor. I returned the favor…his body jerked in response to my mouth encapsulating the end of his dick. A head so big, it stretched my mouth. How in the hell did Denise get this monster all the way in? The thought that this was my son’s dick…coupled with the knowledge he was on the phone with his dad…the taboo of the whole situation overcame any thought of physical limitation. The end of his cock was now at the back of my mouth, my thorax slowly spreading as I pulled him further in. The body of his wonderful cock entered my larynx…moving down my throat. I had to breath, released just enough to let the air from my nostrils pass into my lungs, and then plunged that whole sausage deep into my throat. My lips buried into his pubic hairs. Ah ha! Had that fucking huge cock of my son entirely in my body! Morality be damned…it was mine. My senses were all encompassing around that huge dick in my mouth, but as if in a different room a I could hear one side of a conversation. “Yea dad…yea I know Mom is a hot looking woman” “Don’t worry…uh (he humped my throat), I’ll take care of her”. Mark held my head with one hand and thrust three or four times, his cock reaching the end of my throat on the pull back and then pushing deep into my throat. I have never deep throat ed anyone, at least not like this…but my hunger for his cock, over came any resistance. “Dad…I will give her what she needs…yea, yea…uhm” Mark froze and a hot string ejected from his cock almost straight into my stomach. I caught my breath in each stroke…more strings, all but one deep within me. The last emptied in my mouth, salty, thick, and yet creamy…only the second time in my life that I tasted semen after the first time when I told myself never again. Now I wanted more. That minute delay in the phone conversation apparently did not register to my husband as Mark finally broke his silence, “Yea sure dad…I’ll put her back on…she just had some cream, give a sec to swallow”. Then handed me the phone. It was short…he would not be able to make it at all and take care of Mark just like he asked Mark to take care of me. The first day of my vacation was almost over. Mature woman to fuck Am looking for mature woman to fuck. Any mature woman available here iam - Mature woman to fuck Mature Young pleasures Women Only · Mature Young pleasures · 3 young handsome horny Late teen studs love sex with mature women, while very spun, party goods welcome. You're the Bomb, Moms. Everett WA area. USA let's chat sext and get to know, then e change hit photos etc and hook up. Make new friends, party folks like us. Phil 2 Pornstars Meet 2 Pornstars Meet · Mature · 12 years ago, I tried to become a professional Pornstar, but didn't quite make it. "You're no good!" cried the interviewer. "If you can't get hard in less than 15 seconds when we show you a naked girl, then we don't want you!" I looked indignantly at my antagonist and spat, "If I could lick her, I'd be hard in 5 seconds, you Dipshit!" Looks alone didn't always do it for me, but that's what the Porn Industry expected. That incident didn't make me give up on my hopes of becoming a Pornstar; however, so I turned to social media. I was on Facebook one day posting sexual shit on my Timeline when it caught the attention of, Jenny, one of my female friends. She was very turned on by my posts and said she would give me all the free sex I wanted if I allowed her to turn our sexual encounters into adult movies. I agreed, then told her that we would rise to fame fairly quickly because I loved fucking for hours. "That's unheard of! You're truly a rare guy if you're really like that!" she said with excitement. I smiled and said, "It's a sexual technique called Kareeza". She asked me, "What is that?" I was like, "It's where a guy can last indefinitely with sex because he won't let himself have an orgasm". She was like, "Why would any guy do something like that?" I said, "Because I crave sex, not having orgasms. I'd rather get you off so many times that you won't be able to walk for a day or two". She smiled and said, "I never heard of anything like that! Let's meet at Seminole Valley Park tonight!" We were both excited as we met in the park dead in the middle of the night. Jenny was tall with raven black hair, pale skin, and an athletic build. She laid out a giant fluffy pink blanket, set up her equipment, then got on her elbows and knees with her tight ass pointing at the sky. She had a super nice ass and I wanted my face in it, so I got behind her, and went down on her eating out her ass. I spat into my hand and started jerking, then started fucking her booty hole with my giant tongue as she thrusted her ass back against my face. Then I fucked her pussy, then her ass, then her tits before I shot hot cum all over her face. That was our very first adult movie. We made another 50 or 60 adult movies after that in a 3 month period. Life was very good. Then tragedy struck: I found out that Jenny was married and that her husband found out about our adult movies. "But he's not mad! He just wants to be in the next movie with us!" Jenny swore. "Yeah right! That's how people end up dead!" I countered. She went back and told her husband what I said and he made her delete all of our adult movies from PornHub. I'll never forget Jenny or the time we spent together, but that is how 2 Pornstars meet! Quiver Quiver · Mature · It was a warm morning when we met, with out saying a word we started kissing. I put my hand under her dress and slowly started to rub her clit. Her legs were getting wet my hands were shaking as I took off her dress. I lowered her down on the floor and started kissing her neck all the while my hand never left her pussy. Her nipple was hard and soft at the same time and it tasted good. As I worked down her stomach her body started shaking with excitement. My tongue started licking her lips and her body was shaking more my tongue was still licking her cum as it was leaving her body. Some went into her ass and I turned her over to get as l was licking she raised her hips. I deeper in I went with my tongue the higher she would rise up her hips, she started shaking and once my cock enter her the body started to quiver uncontrollably. She smiled and looked like she wanted more but had to rest. 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I like a big girl or older women who wanna play and have fun who is open minded like myself. Who is in the Tucson area. And around. - BIG BEAUTIFUL AND Mature ladies for BBWS Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense! I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands. Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air. Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs. Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties. Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face. “What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?” Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.” I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard. I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs. I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river. For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog. The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls. I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think. The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles. John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?” I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus. “Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet. “You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly. “I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?” I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears. The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.” John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?” The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.” “Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.” He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.” “Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.” “It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.” Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?” “We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt. Shivering, I close my eyes. “Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?” “Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad. I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light. “Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall. They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel. John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open. “There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.” Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.” “I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.” “Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.” “Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp. John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.” “Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?” “At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt. Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!” “Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?” “No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening. The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out. “This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.” John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling. John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me. “I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more. “This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.” “My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?” “If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.” Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face. “Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips. “Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?” Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue. “You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.” “I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently. “That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.” I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—” “That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.” John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.” I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.” “So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .” “Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.” I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?” The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.” I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.” John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.” I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy. “That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.” “More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John. Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.” “That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?” I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.” I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.” “You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.” I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.” “Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.” The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?” “Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?” John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?” I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee. “You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.” Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in. “Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.” Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works. “Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.” I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.” I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . . My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend. “Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep. “Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.” I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!” He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.” I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts. There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.” I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles. “Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!” “Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out. “I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.” “Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.” I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth. Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers. “Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.” I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly. I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out. John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue. At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.” I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.” “Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face. I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.” Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.” I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!” “Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works. “If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.” I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?” Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins. 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