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Bat Cave Sex Parties NC USA

Akron & Cleveland and Youngstown Swingers Parties This is a group from Akron‚ Cleveland and Youngstown that put on parties for swingers and couples/females who are looking for real meets for gangbangs and hotel parties (group sex). We have a kik room to meet other members and see what we are about. To join the group you will need to follow the rules in the profile picture. 1. We will need a live face pic upon entering the room (if you can't submit a live pic then don't enter) 2. Introduce yourself upon entering the room 3. Be respectful 4. NO DICK pics 5. Chat in the room‚ NO PM's without permission or you will be removed from the group. We have regular parties and always looking for new people to join. If you have parties as well we are always looking to collaborate - Akron & Cleveland and Youngstown Swingers Parties Hunting Hunting · Incest And Taboo · Hunting So, I had lived in this neighborhood for a few years now that backed up to a section of wooded land with about 300 acres. Being raised in the country I was raised hunting and fishing every chance I had, so I took this opportunity to get back to my roots and scout out the area. I was late August so I couldn’t actually bow hunt yet but I took some cameras and my climbing stand out and went scouting. I found a great looking area not too far in from my home that had a nice stand of oak trees filled with acorns and t big beech trees both with beech nuts, so I hooked my stand up to a nice elm tree beside the beech trees and climbed up about 25 feet. I had been there for about 40 minutes and was enjoying having all the birds and squirrels running around me but I had yet to see a deer when I hear something big crashing through the woods behind me. All the animals disappeared and for a second, I wished I had brought a weapon because what ever this was it was big and didn’t care about the noise it made. Well as soon as I had that thought out popped my next-door neighbors’ son, Bobby, walking up to the beech trees. My next emotion was shit – how am I going to be able to hunt with this kid running through the woods – so I thought I would scare him. Bobby started digging around the base of one of the beech trees that had a hollow trunk and pulled out an old backpack. Things were getting interesting so I decided to keep quiet and I watch Bobby pull out a large Ziplock bag from the backpack and toss the backpack on the ground and then sat on it. He opened the Ziplock and pulled out a couple of magazines, looked at the covers and put two of them on the ground next to him and opened the third and started reading. I couldn’t tell what the magazines were but I knew from the obvious hiding and subterfuge they were something he probably shouldn’t have. Bobby laid the magazine her was looking at down and got up on his knees and pulled his pants and underwear down, then sat back down and picked up the magazine. At this point I was frozen with excitement, even though I couldn’t actually see him jacking off because he was facing me and the magazine was in his lap, I could tell what he was doing and I almost popped my zipper with an instant hard on. Then about 3 minutes later he tossed the magazine down and cupped his left hand in front of his cock and emptied his balls into his hand. I thought that this was the hottest thing I had ever witnessed, combining 3 of my taboo fantasies -voyeurism, age difference, and cumshots all in one scene, until he took it over the top by bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking all of his seed off. I almost fell out of the tree and was consciously not breathing hard so he wouldn’t notice me. Bobby then stood up, pulled his pants back up and gathered all of the magazines and secured them back in the backpack inside the hollow tree, and started back toward his home. I sat there for about 15 minutes contemplating what I had just witnessed – and honestly if I should jerk off up here in my tree stand – until I decided I needed to get down and see what he was jerking off to. I climbed down and went over to his secret stashing place and pulled the backpack out to get to the magazines. If I thought I had experienced the most amazing occurrence in my life at that point I was wrong. The magazines were not traditional Playboy types but rather they were extremely explicit and were named: Blowjob Buddies, Uncle Teach Me, and Cum for Daddy. At this point is where I decided I had to jerk off before I came in my pants. I blew a load in less time than it took Bobby and then my mind started racing on how I could see more and possibly interact with his masturbatory sessions. I took the 2 game cameras I had brought to scout for deer and repurposed them to focus on the bottom of the beech tree where Bobby was sitting and then went home with grand schemes bouncing in my head. I wasn’t able to get back out to the cameras for about 8 days, but had thought about the scene I had witnessed on a daily basis while rubbing my cock. I bought 2 new sim cards for the cameras and told my wife I was headed back to the woods for a minute and swapped them out. I wasn’t able to plug them up to my computer until the next morning after my wife had gone to work and I was excited to see that the first card was full with 140 video clips! I started watching the 15 second clips and immediately noticed that Bobby’s routine was the same and that he would come to the tree almost every day between 3:45 and 4:30. The clips weren’t the best quality but the angle was better for me to watch him jack off and it looked like each time he would cum in his hand and then lick it clean. I would jerk off twice that morning watching him clean his hand and imagining it was me doing that for him. I had to find a way to make this happen! I was obsessed with the thought of Bobby jerking off and eating his cum, so I hatched a crazy plan for me to confront him. I went to the woods early that day, around 3:00 and pulled out his backpack, sat down against the beech tree and opened all of the magazines on my lap. I was casually flipping through the one titled Cum for Daddy when I heard the sounds of Bobby coming through the woods. My heart was about the beat out of my chest as he approached, but it was too late for me to chicken out now and I had to follow through and appear to be calm for this to happen. As Bobby came around the side of the tree I said “Hello Bobby. What are you doing out in the woods today?” Bobby froze in place and turned beet red as he looked down and saw his hidden stash in my lap. He stammered a few words that I couldn’t understand then said he was just out exploring. I pulled my phone out and asked him to come over here and look at something – I had downloaded a couple of the video clips of him jacking off. He hesitantly shuffled over and I closed the magazine on my lap and told him to sit down next to me and watch a video I had. He sat down and I hit play, then Bobby began to cry. I put my arm around him and laid the phone down and told him that he wasn’t in trouble and I was sorry if he though I was going to expose what he had been doing here, I wasn’t, I just wanted him to know that I knew. He wiped his nose and quite crying but was still very upset and embarrassed. I told him how I had discovered his secret and how much I had enjoyed the show, and that I jacked off after he left thinking about it. That confession made Bobby look up at me with a bewilderment in his eyes that almost made me laugh. I explained to him that all guys jerk off, and do it a lot, and I found it very exciting to have watched him do it. Then I asked him about the magazines since I had never even seen any like that and he told me he took them from his dad’s closet. I had known Tim for 5 years now and had never sensed that he would be into any of this – but good to know for later! So, I just casually starting talking to Bobby about the magazine I had been looking at and picked it back up so we could both see it. Not wanting to make Bobby any more embossed or self-conscience of what was happening I started flipping through the magazine and commenting on what I liked. There was a full-page picture of an older man on his knees with the younger boys cock all the way in his mouth and a load of cum all over the older mans face. I stopped at this pic and said I really liked this one, it made my cock hard. Bobby nodded his head but didn’t say a word so I continued flipping pages until I got to the end and picked up the next magazine, Blowjob Buddies. This publication had all teen boys sucking and cumming on each other and was very hot. I got to a page where one guy was sitting on the side of a bed and the other was on his knees licking the head of his enormous cock. We hadn’t said a word to each other since my last comment on how my cock was getting hard so I looked at Bobby and asked him if he liked this picture. He nodded again and mumbled yes so, I asked him which guy in the picture would he rather be - the one licking the cock or the one getting licked? He turned red again – I thought we were past that but obviously not – and didn’t answer. So, I flipped the page and asked him another question: “Bobby have you ever had a blowjob?” He shook his head no still staring at the open magazine. I then asked him which of these magazines was his favorite? He just pointed to the one we were currently looking at so I continued flipping pages. We got to a page that had one guy licking up a cumshot off the others stomach and I told Bobby that I thought that was so hot. He instantly nodded his head yes so, I asked him – already knowing the answer – if he ever tasted his own cum and if he liked it. This time he nodded and spoke: “Yes, I really like the way it tastes”. I agreed with him and told him I liked the taste too. We flipped a few more pages and we got to a picture of cum dripping down from a cock onto the guys tongue and Bobby says: “That guy must like the taste too”. Good – Bobby was relaxing some. I laughed and said absolutely that it looked good to me too. I flipped a couple more pages and decided it was time to go for broke so I lair the magazine down and looked at Bobby. “Bobby, I know you came out here today to look at these and jerk off, but since I am here too, would you like a blowjob instead? I would really like to suck your dick and taste your cum.” Bashful Bobby showed back up and he just looked down and didn’t say a word, so I waited just a minute and reached over and placed my hand on his rock hard cock and told him that even if her wasn’t sure, his cock was, and I started rubbing him through his pants. Since he didn’t try to move my had or object, I told him to stand up, and he did. I pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees and his hard cock was eye level to me. The object of many a good jerk off sessions was inches from my mouth! I just stared for a minute taking in his cock and balls. His cock was about 6 inches long and not very thick, and there was just a wisp of fine hair on him, and his balls looked completely hairless. I grabbed his balls and gently pulled downward so his cock wasn’t pointing straight up then gently licked the head of his cock. Bobby whimpered and that made me even more excited, so I swirled my tongue around his head and then wrapped my lips completely on his cock. I was so caught up in the fact I was actually living out a fantasy I didn’t notice the signs of Bobby about to cum and about the third time I swallowed his cock completely I felt Bobby jerk, grunt, and shoot 3 spurts of sweet, sweet, cum in my mouth. I don’t think I had ever tasted anything as good and didn’t want to stop trying to suck the last little bit out of his balls, but Bobby was too sensitive and pulled away. He just stood there for a minute with a silly grin on his face, so I asked him if he enjoyed that as much as I did? He smiled and nodded his head yes. I told Bobby that as long as we could keep this a secret between us, I would like to do that every day we could and if he wanted it too, we could meet here again whenever time allowed. Bobby and I did meet there again, and on the 5th time I had his cock in my mouth I knew his routine and stamina level pretty well, so right before he shot his load into my eager mouth, I stopped and looked up at him and asked him if he wanted to suck me too? I usually would jerk off while sucking him and would try to time my orgasm with his, but Bobby was a fast cummer and I wasn’t, and since Bobby hadn’t answered me yet I stood up and pulled out my hard cock, and put my hand on Bobby’s shoulders gently urging him to kneel down. Bobby did as I wanted and got on his knees and took hold of my cock and stared in amazement, slowly rubbing it and feeling my full balls as my precum flowed onto his hand and arm. Bobby was amazed with my precum because he didn’t produce much if any at all, so I explained it to him and told him to taste, it was sweet. He did and the next thing I knew he had his lips wrapped around my cock and sucking like he was starving. I coached a little about teeth and tightness of his hand, but Bobby was a natural and before I knew it I was approaching the point of no return. I was telling Bobby how good he was and how wonderful it felt, and then I asked him if he was ready to taste my cum. With his mouth full of my cock he hummed a “um huh” which I too as a yes and let loose a huge blast from my cock. Even though he was expecting that it still surprised Bobby to the point he pulled off and gaged a little, while my next shot found its way across his chin. He regained his mission composure and put my cock back in his mouth and I didn’t think I would ever quit cumming it felt so good and so taboo. When I pulled out of his mouth Bobby looked up at me and wiped his finger across his chin to gather the string of cum stuck there and stuck his finger in his mouth cleaning it completely. If I hadn’t just cum, the sight of him doing that would have made me shoot a load in itself. I got back in my knees in front of him and wiped a little cum off of his ear and stuck my finger in his mouth and told him to stand up so I could finish him. He stood up and the minute I took hold of his cock the first shot of cum flew out of his cock and hit me square in the chest. I quickly dropped my head down the coax the rest out of him into my mouth and savored the flavor. This began a new era of both of us getting sucked off many times over the next 2 months, until winter set in. Not being able to conjure up a good reason to go into the woods anymore Bobby was stuck at home and I was missing our outdoor ritual, but I didn’t know a safe way to meet up anywhere else until one weekend my wife went out of town to visit her parents. I have a utility garage attached to the basement that leads into my man cave that is in the back of the house and not very visible to the neighbors, so I patiently waited on my back deck on afternoon until Bobby got home from school and called him over to the fence to talk. I had in the past paid Bobby to do odd jobs around my home, raking leaves, picking up sticks, etc... so my plan was for him to come over Saturday and pretend to pull weeds in my back beds while in reality we would go inside to my man cave and catch up on lost time. Bobby thought that he could tell his parents he was going to pull weeds and be gone for about an hour without raising any suspicions, and I asked him not to jack off that day rt the day before because I wanted a big load to make up for waiting so long. Bobby just smiled and said I should do the same! Saturday morning rolls around and I have the place to myself and it is all I can do to keep from jerking off in anticipation, but instead I ready the room for our meeting. I hooked my computer to the TV and found a clip with 40 minutes of endless cumshots and facials and queued it up for Bobby’s arrival. I opened the garage door and waited impatiently until Bobby stuck his head around the corner with a big smile on his face. I told him to come on in and shut the door and led him into my man cave. He saw the TV with the frozen screen of a cock with cum shooting out the end and he plopped down in the recliner right in front of it staring intently at the screen. I hit play and Bobby’s eyes got huge. He said there was a filter on his computer at home and he had never seen a movie before, just the magazines he found in his dad’s close so I told him to sit back and enjoy for a minute and brought him a soda. I handed him the soda and got down between his legs and pulled his pants down until his cock sprung up. It had been weeks since I had seen or tasted his beautiful cock and I couldn’t wait another minute as I licked him from the base to the tip and swallowed his cock whole. Bobby had built up a little more tolerance than the first time I sucked him and the last time in the woods he lasted almost 10 glorious minutes of me teasing and sucking him, but this time the combination of the movie, not jerking off, and not having a warm mouth on his cock for weeks was just too much and he came almost immediately. The sweet cum filled my mouth as I milked his cock for the last drop and I savored the fresh clean flavor as I rolled his cum around in my mouth. I stood up and pulled my cock out and Bobby slid to the edge of the chair and started sucking on my balls. He had become fascinated lately with my balls since they were much larger than his, and I had no complaints as I love to have my balls worshiped. I was enjoying the sensation very much and was pouring precum out of my hard cock all over his hand and Bobby used that as lube and slowly started sliding his hand up and down my slick cock while my balls were in his mouth. The visual and stimulation were too much for me and I shot a load all over the top of his head and onto the recliner without him ever stopping the tongue bath on my sack. Feeling all of the tension leaving and still tasting his cum in my mouth was a great combination as I pulled up my pants and gave him $10 for “pulling the weeds” and told him we would figure out a way to do this again real soon. I let Bobby out the back garage and came back to my room and started watching the video again while still savoring the memory of Bobby’s cock exploding in my mouth and slowly rubbing my once again hardening cock, when Bobby’s dad, Tim, poked his head in the open door and said “Bruce…we should talk”. To be continued…. Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really?? Other Locations · Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really?? · I must admit, I'm extremely new to this whole scene but I've paid some kinda attention to it for quite some time, albeit from a distance, and have never learned of actual swingers clubs or fuck parties around here - I just feel like surely I would have. But, that said, I'm oh so happy to be wrong, I'm just asking this to make sure this is real and the people here are truly down to, well, get down. Our is this a waste of time? I hope not, cus ladies I promise I won't waste your's, my wife would never let me and she super excited to get involved too.. I hope to hear something back soon! Thanks! my first crossdressed gangbang my first crossdressed gangbang · Crossdressers · Hello! I am a 55-year-old bisexual male who loves to cross-dress, and this is my true gang-bang story. It was a lot of fun and I would love to do it again someday. Maybe when I do, I’ll write about it here. ;) My First Time Crossdressed Gangbang Story I was 26-years-old at the time and traveling all over the country for my job. My work kept me in a new state for about four months, then it was on to the next one. I would always choose a hotel that was close to an adult bookstore or an all-male spa, and if those were not available, a truck stop would do. Luckily, in this case, there was an adult video store about 10 blocks away. Late one night, after a few beers and getting a bit stoned, I got extremely horny. I was in the mood for getting dicked down while dressed like a little slut, and I knew exactly how I wanted it. I had some experience sucking dick and enjoyed the occasional ass pounding now and then, but I had always wanted to be gang-banged bareback by a group of well-hung guys while dressed like the whore I am. But before I set out to fulfill my fantasy, I had to get ready. I showered and shaved my entire body smooth, with special attention to my crotch and ass. I applied makeup, bright and thick to make my eyes and lips pop. Long, trashy red acrylic nails and matching toes rounded out the look of a hot and ready hooker. It was about 10:00 pm when I packed my backpack with everything I needed. I stuffed in my blonde wig, strap-on titties, sexy black lace bra, matching panties, black thigh-high stockings with a bold back seam, garter belt, and a pair of black six-inch stiletto stripper heels. I also made sure to throw in some lube and several dildos of various sizes. As I headed out, I had decided to walk since I was still a little buzzed. I made my way to the local adult video store. I had already been there several times on previous trips, so I knew they had viewing rooms, some with glory holes. That was where the real fun happened. This store was one of my favorite hook-up spots because I could always find easy cock. I was confident that I’d have no problem getting all my holes resized tonight. When I arrived, I noticed it was quite crowded. I went to the counter, got 30 dollars in single bills, and proceeded to the back where the booths were. My favorite booth was available and I took that as a good sign. I liked this particular stall because it was small and had a glory hole on each wall. So if I got on all fours, my ass would be at one hole and my mouth would be at the other. I’d normally just change in the booth, but I was so horny that I decided to change in the restroom. Next, I had to prepare for the night ahead of me and chose to warm up with some intense dildo action. I took the assorted plastic and rubber phalluses out of my bag and got to work. I started with the thinnest one, lubricating it thoroughly before sliding it up my butt. I stroked it in and out of myself for a few minutes, letting it flirt and tease my prostate, quickly getting in the mood. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. I could feel my cock hardening, but I had to resist cumming, lest I spoil my plans for the night. One by one, I repeated this process with all the dildos, working my way up from the smallest to the largest. All the while trying my hardest not to shoot my load all over the restroom stall. Once I was all lubed up and ready to go, I shoved a giant butt plug in my ass. It was so big that it barely fit and kept me stretched open wide. I quickly finished dressing and put on my heels. I was eager to get this show on the road. I walked out into the store proper, where several guys stood around, chatting and laughing. I felt daring as I strutted by them on my way to the booth, making sure to switch my hips to bring attention to my legs and ass. I even winked at them over my shoulder. The cat-calls started almost immediately as more and more patrons took notice of my scandalous getup. I felt like a real slut, and with all the stares I got, I knew that I was in for a good time. I stepped into my stall, purposely not locking the door behind me. I put in a few dollars and selected a sexy gay bareback gang-bang video, the kind I wanted to recreate. I didn’t have to wait a whole minute before a nice, cut cock about eight inches or so came through the glory-hole facing me. At the other hole, I saw another guy watching me and jacking off, so I got down on my hands and knees, settling onto the cum soaked floor. I began to slowly suck the dick in front of me, simultaneously removing the huge plug in my ass. I replaced the plug with a huge dildo with a suction cup base, making sure to give the guy behind me a good view. I stuck the fake dick to the wall just below the hole he was watching and slid my ass onto it, rocking back and forth, putting on a show. The guy behind me must have gotten tired of just watching because he thrust this cock through the glory-hole and tapped my ass with it to get my attention. I briefly paused the blowjob to look back at the new dick. It was huge! Roughly 10 inches long and as thick as my forearm! I absolutely had to have it inside me. I removed the dildo, leaving my asshole gaped, and the monster cock slid right in, all the way to the hilt. He started pumping into me bare as I sucked the other cock. It felt so good, and I was close to cumming when the cock in my mouth shot several streams of hot yummy cum down my throat. I swallowed every last drop, and the guy left, obviously satisfied. Still, I continued to hold back my orgasm, knowing that it would be worth it later. Barely a second passed when another big hard cock came through the hole, and I got back to work sucking while my ass was being pounded. The man behind me hammered my prostate, making me moan around the cock in my mouth. Not long after, the cock in my ass erupted. I could feel spurt after spurt of thick cum being shot up my ass. The door to my stall opened, and there stood four or five guys, all big and buff and stroking their huge cocks while watching me get fucked. As soon as the cock I was sucking filled my mouth with another delicious load, I was pulled into the hallway by this new group of well-endowed men. Each of them took turns using me. For the next hour, my ass was constantly stuffed with dick, and my stomach was full of jizz. When they were done, my entire body was sticky with sweat and cum. The men were fully sated, and none wanted a second round. I hadn’t expected my night to end so quickly and was very disappointed. Just then, two massive black guys walked in, and I knew that my night wasn’t over by a long shot. They surveyed the scene and saw me in my ruined lingerie and makeup. I gave them a flirty, gooey smile and beckoned them over with a finger. They must have liked what they saw because they started to strip while everybody watched. When they were completely naked, my jaw practically hit the floor. They had two of the biggest cocks I have ever seen! Both must have been 11 inches or more and thick as a baseball bat. One even had a nice upward curve that I knew would feel amazing on my prostate. The one with the curve got behind me; I felt him lineup his huge cock with my cum-lubed ass and slowly pushed in. It was bigger than anything I had taken so far and hurt going in. When he was about halfway in, he began slowly pumping in and out. Allowing me to get accustomed to his impressive size. The other guy grabbed my head and tried to shove his huge cock down my throat. I could only manage to get the head in. The others stood around and watched. Some were even taking pictures and filming me from every angle. After about 10 minutes, the man in my ass shoved his huge cock all the way in. I could feel his balls pressing against mine. It was so long, I thought I could feel it in my stomach. Then he really started to fuck me hard, and all I could do was moan with pleasure. I was so turned on, and it felt so good that I shot my load from just being fucked, splattering the floor with my cum. I finally managed to swallow a few more inches of the cock in front of me. I could feel it reaching down past my tonsils. I knew that I would have a sore throat in the morning. After a while of fucking me like this, they decided to switch it up and trade places. I could taste my ass and the other men’s cum on his dick and eagerly slurped it all up. I had lost track of time. The one now in front pulled out of my mouth and went around back. At the same time, the other one slipped under me. I sat down on the cock below while the other man began pushing his way into my already occupied asshole. I started to protest, thinking these two must be crazy. One massive cock barely fit on its own; two would surely split me apart! Before I could fully voice my concern, the head of the one behind me popped in, and I almost screamed. It hurt for only a minute or so. Before I knew it, I was being double fucked by these huge black cocks. The other guys must have decided that they were ready for round two. They came back into it, fighting to shove their cocks down my throat and dumping what seemed to be gallons of cum into my stomach. At this rate, I wouldn’t need to eat for days. The two guys fucked my ass like that for another half hour, alternating thrusts, so I was always full before adding to the collection of cum in my ass. I could feel their cocks in my stomach as shot after shot of hot cum was unloaded deep in my ass. They must have dumped at least a quart of cum in me. I was so full of cum that it squirted out of my ass and all over the guy behind me when they pulled out. Once they were done, the other men all had another go at me. After watching the other men run a train on me for a little while, one of the black guys came over and started talking to me. He told me I was incredibly sexy and introduced himself and his friend as Rick and Marcus. He said he had a business proposition for me. "We own this joint, how would you like to do this every Friday and Saturday night? We’ll pay you 200 dollars per show. We charge spectators a fee and we will find you the biggest, hottest dicks around with a minimum of six to ten guys". They told me to think about it since I could not answer right away as my mouth was filled with cock. It went on like that for another hour before the last guy finally came. I was absolutely filthy from head to toe. I was covered in a mixture of jizz, spit, and sweat; I must have stunk something awful. I got up and walked to their office. I was horribly sore and exhausted but couldn’t keep the smile from my face. I opened the door and said that I would be happy to work for them. They were excited to hear it. "Since you’re gonna be our new slut, how about you come over here and give us some head. Think you can handle a couple more loads?" Marcus said, already unbuttoning his pants. "Hell yeah!" I sank to my knees in front of them and happily sucked them off one at a time until they came. Marcus finished in my throat. He held my head all the way down as he unloaded his hot, sweet cum in my stomach. Rick came shortly after but instead of cumming in my mouth, he sprayed it all over my face. "I’ll see you guys tomorrow!" I said as I stood up, still covered in cum and looking like a beat-up whore who had a rough night. I knew my clothes were ruined, and my makeup must have been running down my face. On my way out, I stopped by the bathroom to clean up the worst of the cum dripping down my body. I was still so horny that I didn’t bother changing my outfit. I just grabbed my backpack and walked back to the hotel dressed as I was, heels and all. I was hoping that I might get propositioned by someone looking for an easy, late-night fuck. It was around three o’clock in the morning when I left the video store. I was coming out of an alley when a police car pulled up beside me with the lights flashing. They probably thought I was a prostitute, and I was scared they were going to arrest me. I was trying to find a believable excuse for why I looked like a hooker when two big muscular cops got out of the cruiser. They surrounded me, pinning my back against the alley wall. "Well, what do we have here? A sissy crossdresser faggot?" The one in front smirked at me while his partner laughed. "What happened to you?" The second cop looked me up and down, taking in my disheveled appearance. The first cop whispered something into his radio, but I couldn’t hear what he said. I was hoping he wasn’t calling for backup. I proceeded to tell them all about my night at the adult video store. Still, carefully leaving out the part about me working there, just in case they really did intend on arresting me for prostitution. Another cop car pulled up to check me out, and I regaled him with my escapades as well. I noticed all three cops had bulges in their pants and grins on their faces. After I finished my story, I could tell they were all pretty aroused. The second cop stepped closer to me with a sly smile on his face. "Listen slut, we have a little deal for you. You blow all three of us right now and you won’t spend the night in holding for whoring." And that was how I found myself on my knees, surrounded by three cops with their big hard cocks out. I sucked all of them off until they came in my mouth. I swallowed all their cum with a big smile. True to their word, they didn’t arrest me and let me continue my slut walk of shame back to the hotel. Once I got back to the hotel, I was able to sneak in one of the side exits using my key card. I knew if I tried to go in through the front lobby looking the way I do, they’d probably kick me out. I was tired and sore when I got up to my room but still very excited for the day ahead. I kicked off my heels and peeled the cum soaked lingerie off my body. I took a nice hot shower and douched the last of the cum out of my gaping asshole. Once I was all clean, I got in the bed naked and was out like a light. he following night around 12:30am I walked back to the bookstore dressed the same way, but I was wearing a red outfit with a tight black mini skirt, I took the back way this time to avoid traffic, but I had to walk through a big truck stop to get there I looked around the truck stop before continuing and only saw 3 trucks all dark so I continued on and I stopped to check myself in the bathroom mirror but just then 2 truckers walked in as I was about to leave they took me into the bathroom and fucked me as I sucked them off. One came in my ass and one in my mouth and I was on my way. When I arrived at the bookstore I walked in and was greeted by the two large black men from the prior night (the owners) I was quite horny and looking forward to what the night had in-store. I was wearing my clity Cage, my strap-on tits with a hot red and black latex boos-tier, lacy red G-string panties, with matching garter belt, black thigh high stockings, and my 8-inch red stripper heels and a huge Butt plug with a long black fuzzy tail. The 2 black men escorted me through the bookstore where it was quite crowded with lots of horny men. We went back to their office where I sucked both their cocks as they gave me the rundown of the night. The one with the husky deep voice explained that they had 10 well hung guys that were just dying to get at me. Then the other guy spoke with a much higher fem voice with a slight lisp. He said that they had a private room in the rear all set up and there were going to be about 20 people that were just going to watch and enjoy the show, they also said that pix and video were going to be shot. About that time one of them shot a huge load of cum in my mouth it was so big I thought I was going to drowned, but I managed to swallow it all. The other guy came around back of me and removed the huge butt plug I had in and shoved his huge black cock in my ass and started to fuck me hard after a few minutes of this he shot a huge load of cum deep in my ass. It felt like he was filling my stomach. I loved it, it felt so good that it made me cum, and no one had even touched my cock yet. They then shoved my plug back in my ass and said don’t want all that good lube to drip out, then pulled me to my feet and escorted me through the bookstore where everybody started clapping and whistling. I then noticed that on one wall there was a large flat screen monitor that showed their office where I just got the 2 men off and realized that everybody in the bookstore just watched me get them off and that turned me on even more. We walked through this door in the rear and inside was a sex swing, bed and 2 couches, in the middle of the room were 9 of the biggest cocks. All around were men and some women seated all naked and waiting for the show to start. I strutted into the room and went right to work. I started sucking the first cock I came to. I am telling you there was not a cock under 8 inches. Almost immediately my panties were taken off of me and my ass hole eaten, lubed then filled with cock as I sucked cock after cock as cock was being shoved in my ass after a little while the first load was shot right in my mouth I swallowed every last drop of it, then I felt the huge cock in my ass erupt with a huge load deep inside me it felt so good. Then another cock was shoved in my mouth and then before the other pulled out of my ass another cock invaded me and I was being fucked in my ass by 2 huge cocks at the same time. After a little while it got quiet and in walked this Arab guy, he had the biggest cock of them all, I swear it was at least 12 to 13 inches long and so fat it looked like a little baseball bat, I thought it would rip me in half. I tried to get it in my mouth, but I could only get the head of it in, he went around back of me and started to push his huge cock into my ass which was dripping with cum and very well lubricated, it felt like he was ripping me. He was gentle and took his time though. finally, the head of his enormous cock popped into my ass I tried to scream but my mouth was full of cock. he slowly entered me until he was almost all the way in and then slowly pulled out all the way leaving my ass gaped, then he shoved it back in. He did this several times until I was used to it and it started to feel real good then he slammed it in as far as it would go and started to pound me hard, all I could do is moan as the cock in my throat erupted at the same time and was pulled out and replaced by another. he fucked me hard for what seemed like an hour before he shot this enormous load into my ass, it felt like a fire hose inside me it was by far the biggest load I had ever had. It was so much that it was seeping out as he continued to pump my ass. it turned me on so much that I shot my own load I could feel my ass hole clamping down on his enormous cock as he moaned as I used my asshole to suck every drop of cum out of that wonderful cock. He finally gave me all he had to give I could feel his cock going limp and he pulled out. 2 other cocks took his place quickly. this guy would fuck my ass 2 other times throughout the night, this went on for hours until I had every cock cum in my ass and in my mouth I was covered with cum and loving it. When they were all done I went out to the audience and started to do some of them, I was so turned on I could do this all night then the 2 Owners came in and had 2 tall shot glass's filled with cum from the audience and wanted me to drink them. I did, it was so good I licked the glass's clean then they both fucked me in the ass, it was so good to have these 2 huge black cocks deep in my ass as I felt them both cum in my ass, it was dripping cum as I stood up and they handed me 200 hundred dollars and a video tape of the whole thing and said will we see you next week?, I said hell yeah they said that they had already had about 15 guys for me next week and I said can’t wait. I left shortly afterwards dressed like a slut. I was still covered in cum and had the huge butt plug in my ass to keep in all the cum as I walked towards the truck stop where it was full of horny truckers. again, I was taken to the bathroom where about 4 truckers waited for me, I sucked off all of them before I started my walk back to the hotel room. But, before I got there, I decided I wanted to stand out on the corner across from the truck stop hooking myself out for the rest of the night. I got 3 guys and sucked and swallowed each of them for 20 bucks each. the sun was Cumming up, so I stood on the corner and jacked off for all to see until I shot my own huge load all over my self. I was soaked in cum from all the cock I had throughout the night and my ass dripping cum I then walked my slutty ass back to my room and popped in the video they had given me and started to jack off to it when there was a knock at the door! bat Male · Australia. This is the member profile for bat dan.bat Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for dan.bat bat a ball Male · Australia. This is the member profile for bat a ball Me My bat · Big bat SWINGER EVENTS AND PARTIES IN VIRGINA/MARYLAND/WASHINGTON D.C. AKA DMV Other Areas, VA (USA) · Men Seeking Women · ABOUT THE SWINGER SOCIAL CLUB DMV Swinger Social Club is a lifestyle social club for adventurous adults who embrace the kink and/or swinger lifestyles. It is unapologetically different from other swinger parties. A dark, exciting, sexually charged yet sensual atmosphere without anything to distract you from why you came. All are welcome, exhibitionists and voyeurs alike. This is a place where you can meet other like-minded people and explore your kinks and fantasies in a safe, sane, nonjudgmental environment. So, whether you want to watch, play, or get your kink on we have a little something for everyone. DMV Swinger Social Club is the place to be in the DMV for all alternative lifestyle events! Don’t like the big lifestyle party crowds or clubs, come party with us in a chill, relaxed, and welcoming environment. Our lifestyle social club brings together provocative couples, adventurous females, transgender persons, and kinky men where you can mix & mingle in a wild, uninhibited environment. This singles, couples, men, women, and transgender party welcomes both committed and casual members of the lifestyle and creates a safe space for diverse genders and orientations! We are a fun, safe, and kinky group. We love to host and organize upscale fun events and parties. We are lifestyle members and inclusive of everyone! We’d love to include you in all the fun. WE HOST PARTIES AND EVENTS BI-WEEKLY IN THE DMV AREA BUT MOSTLY IN VA AND MD. big italian cave man Male · Adelaide, Australia. This is the member profile for big italian cave man cave Male · Saugerties, United States of America. This is the member profile for cave Erotic Catering General Discussions · Erotic Catering · A dynamic interracial couple combining 30 years of experience in catering and event management. We are passionate and dedicated to achieve the highest level of service for our clients. Creativity and open minded orientation has insured that we are able to make your special event memorable. We specialise in adult events ranging from private dinner parties, cocktail parties, swinger parties, birthday parties and even the occasional corporate event. If you are looking for that sexy twist to your event our service range from cocktail, waitresses, barmen and hostesses that will compliment your unique theme. We gladly await your correspondence. Before A Midsummer Night's Dream Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so. As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then. I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do? I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them. By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself. As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned. II I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied. My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household. In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it? I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most. This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there. After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it. III Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate. To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have. Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick. Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before. I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her. By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy. People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied. I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall. I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was. I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower. In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid. But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked. My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer. IV I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home. More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling. After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in. During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story. My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me. With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it. V It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open. It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going. People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s. I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off. I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling. I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her. Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day. VI Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively. I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then. I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me. This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them. Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter? There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'. I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again. Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol. But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do. VII I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them. Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem. Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect. VIII I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody. I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that! I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present. I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness. As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run. My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him. IX He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not. As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore. I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him. An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer. I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul. I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves. There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers. What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me. I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it. When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end. X I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit. I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch. I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was. In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did. First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman. My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally. He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes. He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true. I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning. I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good. XI I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on. He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen. My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property. XII The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this. We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle. My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more. I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad? I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart. Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this. XIII We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all. He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside. He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too. I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss. XIV You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it. I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive. I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity? My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed. He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused. He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap. He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime. My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time? It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it. This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly. XV At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly! He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down. In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense. My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking. I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano. I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent. We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic. On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs. My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner. XVI I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in. Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides. I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound? Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said. XVII The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt. Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly. The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night. The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not. Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti Gang bangs / / Group sex in Pittsburgh‚ Pa USA Only · Gang bangs / / Group sex in Pittsburgh‚ Pa · we are a group from Pittsburgh that put on parties  for swingers and couples/females who are looking for real meets for gangbangs and hotel parties (group sex). We have a kik room to meet other members and see what we are about. To join the group you will need to follow the rules in the profile picture. 1. We will need a live face pic upon entering the room (if you can't submit a live pic then don't enter)2. Introduce yourself upon entering the room3. Be respectful4. 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