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Already Home Already Home · Erotic Couplings · She's already home when I get there still wearing my favorite 2 pieces of a 3pc skirt suit. There's just something about the easy access of a button down dress shirt and with her, the inevitable fact: there's no panties under that knee length skirt. She's sitting in our old wingback chair. Her back straight, elbows to wrists resting on the old chair's slightly worn arms, shirt unbottoned down to a risque depth, skirt hiked up just enough for legs to cross, resting on just one of the heels she's still, to my absolute excitement, wearing. A'la 1992 Sharon Stone, fingers crossed for the mid leg switching beaver shot. "Hey babe!" I offer as greeting while walking toward her. "Shut up, Sit down!" She replies sternly. While nonchalantly pointing with a flick of her wrist before returning her hand to it's previous position, dangling carelessly off front of chair arm's fillagree carved wooden edge. Her long index finger casually directed me to the dining room chair sitting ominously center square of the living room. "How did I miss that?" I pondered as I thirstily followed her command and nervously sat. I Began to lean forward intent on taking my work boots off... "Be still!", She says in a calm yet authoritive tone. I quickly resume good postured seating. "Good boy, stay." She says with narrowed eyes and widened smirk. She then stands and turns 180°. Those heels splendidly tighten her calves, thighs and ass to an undeniably sexy tone. She slowly tugs at her skirt working It's hem up one or two inches per side. Until barely exposing both of her beautifully bubbled ass cheeks. "I've got a few things here that I'm in the mood to put to use." she follows with, "How's that sound?" Then, as I begin to draw a breath to respond, "Shut up!" snaps across the air. All delivered without so much as a glance in my direction, in a tone resembling a grade school teacher, "That was a rhetorical question. Boy. It doesn't matter if you're in mood or not does it?" " No Ma'am.) Methodically she bends forward and removes the chair cushion, obviously being mindful to only bend at the waist. I can see her little pussy, resting like a treasured jewel carefully placed atop a pillow of her creamy thighs, it's lips just wet enough to glisten, beckoning to me like a watering hole mirage to a desert lost wanderer. My pestilent inner child wants to scream, "It's mine! Give it to me!" Silent though, happily obedient, I stay. She picks up a bag, replaces the seat's cushion, straightens her body to upright. Then slowly shimmies her skirt's hem back to it's designer's intended length. She turns, and despite the *click* *tap* *click* *tap* cadence of her heels, it's as if she glides to a point just out of my reach. Poised beautifully directly in front of me, hands on hips, intrigue laiden bag hanging securely from one elbows inner crease. She then extends her arm, bag in hand, raises it to parallel with the floor then abruptly drops it. Kneeling down directly in front of me, her knees in line with my heels. My eyes, like that of any man's eyes begin taking in the down buttoned view. Voluptuous blanched breasts with lucious Lemonade Pink shaded and gum drop shaped nipples. She pulls the bow from the first boot's laces then quickly and a bit aggressively tightens the remaining knot. Criss crossing the two ends as she wraps them around chair's leg and boot's ankle top, pulls a quick knot then, a bow then, a second. "Great move!", I think to myself while she repeats the clever process on the other boot. Still kneeling there before me she reaches into her bag and retrieves what looks to me like roughly 25' of nice three cord braided hemp rope. I am rock fucking hard already, my excitement is brimming, damn near uncontainably. I show nothing though. Fuck, I love her! She takes hold of my right wrist, gives it a little outward twist as she slides it in her shirt and places it on her tit, palm over nipple and releases it. Before she can reach other wrist I'm squeezing and pulling on left tit. Quicker then I could react she smacked my hand, barked, "Be Still" and was now poised, pimp hand raised, threatening to smack me across the cheek. I feel the warmth in my face as it flushes to red. For her sake I flinch a little extra careful to keep mostly still though. She then gives my left hand the same treatment as my right. Both hands now on beautifully baroque breast she leans in applying enough pressure to excite us both and begins to wrap figures eights around my wrists and up my firearms. Though I'm starring only at her face she refuses eye contact. "Damn she's good at this." I take mental note. Twenty something(I lost count somewhere around the 5th fabulous friction burn) wraps over right and left forearms. Slack splendidly pulled across my flesh at varying speeds. Coils covering from wrists nearly to elbows. Six loops between forearms to cinch the coils, terrifically tightening their hold. Now I sit, rope cuffed and bound forearms resting in my crotch, ankles tied, boots and all to the chair. Not sure I've ever been this turned on before. As much as I've fantasized about this type if thing. She's the only one I'd want doing this. She is a natural for sure. She's standing now, directly in front of me and again hiking her skirt up, alternating sides just a little at a time. Only difference from her skirt hem line's last tumultuous climb is the distance hiked. This time the skirts hem climbed to hips tip tops before it stopped. That shaved slice of glistening pie there in my face. I was leaning in to steal a quick lick when again, bitch moved quick. Asserting her dominance in an instance. Grabbing hold of the hair atop my head she forced my gaze to the skies. Stepped forward, straddled me and slapped my face. Now, with that delectable pussy damn near touching the bottom side of my chin her looking straight down at me using the narrow sight line just beyond her tits and the protrusion of their nipple's, her eyes grip mine for the first time since the start of this fantasy and says, "Stay, Boy." I try to tip my head forward, dying for a taste of that twat. She pulls harder at my hair. I shake my head and struggle a bit, mostly for the fun of it. She's serious though and doesn't relinquish grip, just waits for me to quit. "You done Boi?!" She asks with a heavily accentuated finish and shockingly aggressive tone. I use the miniscule range of motion left in my neck to timidly motion yes. She released my hair and I didn't move a muscle. She then took a seat on my lap first close then she slid back to release my arms which for a brief moment had been happily held captive there beneath her twot, taint and tail. She guided them over my head bent my elbows, taking my hands back and with the texture of the rope slighty scratching at the base of my neck she began tying the leftover bit from the cinch to the steel frame rail at the top of my chair's back. Blatantly brushing her beautiful breast across my face multiple times in multiple direction till knot was securely tied. I'm now, biceps over ears, elbows to the sky, wrist bound and chair rail tied. Feet still tied to chair legs. She starts grinding. Hard. Side to side, back and forth. Hard. Circular motions now, all with brute force. Doesn't take long and I can tell she's getting close. Harder. She grabs the sides of my neck puts her hands beneath my ears. Harder yet. Her thumbs meandering jaw line towards chin. Harder. She's grinding so vigorously the chair is sliding and shifting. Her thumbs slip down to my throat. She begins to squeeze, closing my throat and my corodit simultaneously. Nervous excitement, finally, someone gets it. Hopefully she sees all I do to others is what I want done to me. Her hands are cold against my neck. I close my eyes. Then in the darkening darkness I hear her,"Open them, look at me!" I open them but can't focus, "Look at me! Loo..." cut to black... I awaken to the sound of a clap and a curious sting across my face. I'm back, euphoric about to orgasm but not cum. She is still straddling my lap barely moving, then her sigh gives her away, she has cum. She moves back, her ass now on my knees. She grabs a fist full of my hair with one hand forcing my head down, as if I wanted to look anywhere else. "Do you see that?" She asks calmly in a sweet voice. Still groggy from the black out I barely muster an inaudible mumble. Using that fist full of hair she shakes my head wildy. "Asshole, Do you see the cum on my pussy?" She asks harshly. "Yes ma'am" I say while trying to shake my head. But she's giving me no room to move. She slides 2 fingers up her pussy, barely penetrating. I blink and it's admittedly long but my heads still foggy. Well, it apparently took too long, she slaps my face. "Open your mouth, Boy" She says, sliding her fingers up her pussy again. I open my mouth, saying, "ahhhhh" audibly with quivering in my tone. I can see her cum dripping from one as the two make their way like a child's feeding spoon towards my face. The moment I feel her finger tip on my tongue, I close mouth and suck, I use my tongue to lick her fingers clean of her cum. She tastes so good. I want her so bad! I needed this. She slides her long fingers back and forth, trough my lips and across my tongue, taking care not to let finger tips pass my puckered lips and leave my mouth. I close my eyes. I moan at a rate commensory to her pace. I groan. There's true passion in my tone. I moan. I groan. It's a lust filled, desire to satisfy, moan for the in stroke with a desperate plea not to stop, fuelled groan on the out stroke. She moves her other hand to the back of my head again acquiring a fist full of hair. She stops moving the fingers in my mouth. Holding that hand steady she's now pushing and pulling my head. First slowly then faster then she slows way down forcing me further on to her fingers with each slow repetition. I gag slightly. "There it is." She triumphantly says then, forces it again. I gag again. Not sure when she started but she's grinding again. Again I gag. This time she holds it there I'm gagging, trying to shake my head, trying to pull away. She wont let me. My eyes are watering now. My mouth is full of saliva and I'm drooling a bit. She's grinding. She's pushing and pulling again when she says, "Don't fucking swallow that spit, hear me asshole? I want that mouth messy and wet while I'm finger fucking it." She's grinding. I'm trying to nod yes but she's still giving me no room for motion. "Mmhmmm" I offer as it's all I can do. She's grinding hard now, tight to my pelvis, her hips rolling back and forward opposite the direction of my forcibly directed head. She slips a third finger in mouth. Slowly she pulls them back to nearly out, rolls her hips back to my thighs with matching pace. Unexpectedly she begins forcefully poundinh her crotch into mine, thrusting my head, her fingers travel deep down my mouth to my throat, over and over. I'm gagging every two or three thrusts, I can feel my pelvis and hips bruising. I'm crying now but, God Damn if I'm not close to cuming. I'm unsure if it's because of pleasure from this treatment or from pleasuring her by being a good Sub. With a final thrust of her hips she arches her back dramatically Simultaneously she was wildly throwing her head back. Suddenly she grabbed my crotch with both hands one on either side if my zipper and squeezes, hard then pulls harder. I twitch and bounce in reaction to the pain felt by the single unlucky nut to suffer the force of the orgasmic rip and grip just shown by her. More motivation for the tears streaming down my face. "Are you crying?"she asks with a touch of distain riding the words. "What a fucking bitch boy!" She says harshly as she slaps my face. Placing a cupped hand under my mouth, she commands me, "Spit, dumbass" I told you not to swallow it, I'm frantically nodding yes while I nearly fill her hand with hot sticky saliva. She steps off me and back with the assistance of a forceful push off my chest. She steps once more before using her empty hand to unzip that skirt it falls to the floor with ease. She reclaims her spot in the wing back, unbuttoning her shirt's last few buttons as her ass finds the seat cushion. With one foot up on chair's arm she places her cupped spit laiden hand over her crotch roughly, basically slapping her pussy lips then, rubs it all over her fucking hairless pussy. I can feel her staring at me. I keep my eyes fixed on her pussy. Excitedly watching her spread her pussy lips and fumble at her clit. She looks down and gives her pussy a couple easy slaps. To which I blurt out, "Harder! You bitch. Like you've been slapping me." Slowly her head rises just enough to make eye contact and for me to see the menacing smile now wide on her face. *SMACK* The sound is crisp in the air like that of a celebratory high five. "She's so amazing." I say to myself. Upon contact she nearly screams but her head doesn't move her smile remains the same and our eyes stay locked. Again without thought I blurt out, "Harder! Let's see it, you fucking bitch." She chuckles a bit tits bouncing in response to the laughter as if they too are snickering at my request. [ ] "Is bitch boy done crying now?" She asks, standing, stepping towards me she places one foot across the crease atop my thigh with her heel narrowly missing the head of of my dick. She slaps her pussy hard again then my face. Before I can react she asks. "Harder? Or is that gonna make you cry?" "Come on then, let's see slut. I say calmly and finishing with a head nod and a smile. This time I hold eye contact. I hear the loud smack of palm to wet pussy, out of the corner of my eye I catch a flash of flesh in motion then, nothing, blackness. Interrupting the silent darkness, I hear the sound of wet pussy being penetrated repeatidly, quickly, clapping a bit. I raise my head to see her finger poppin that tastey twat just inches from my tingling face. I smile wide. Seeing my smile she grabs me by the chin, leans in and kisses me. It's a long deep, tongue kiss, the kind that's so frantic it's like your struggling to occupy the same space, noses grinding, foreheads bumping, nostrils flaring, oxygen obtained in quick sharp inhales as if drowning and breathing in the tiny moments your head bobs above waterline. She pulls away. "Fuck me. Fuck me like the cock I am, please." I say in a wanting but not quite desperate tone. "No." She replies as plain as plain could be. "I won't fucking beg. Fuck me damn you!" Again a blase, "No." With her backside to me and again only bending at the waist she rummages through her bag. She fucked up though.... Seeing my opportunity I lean forward chairs backegs off the floor. Quickly getting pussy lips in my mouth I suck, my nose tickling at taint. Her first reaction is to pull away but I'm already licking the pussy like a dog on a dropped ice cream cone in August. But, she pulls away again, th walks out of room....wth... Quickly she returns. Carrying two more dinning room chairs placed one sideways in front of the other which faced me from the other side of the first chair. She says nothing as she crawls across the chairs, first away from me then backing that thing up til her knees were on my chair, her twat, taint, and tail all up in my face. Her face down on furthest chair she reaches back and spreads her beautifully bulbous cheeks. "15 minutes. Do what you want you've been a good boy, you earned it. Show me what that mouth do, fuck boy!" All of it was said kinda rough and tough like. I waste no time quickly starting with a playful bite of the bigger cheek, then another nibble this time at top of thigh, ass cheeks bottom crease. I then lick across crease to pussy. Already so wet and tasting wonderful. I get my face just deep enough that my fully extended tongue's tip barely slides over clit. And that is what I'm ecstatically doing, licking from taint through labia over clit and back again stopping occasionally to suck on pussy's lips, ok maybe a slight bite or two also. I feel a little twitch. My tongue outstretched I start shaking my head as if urgently saying No. Another twitch, another, she's close. Im mixing it up now side to side, back and forth, fast and hard. Then with a massive inhale and slow shakey exhale, shes cumming. I'm doing my best to lap it all in, sucking and licking frantically fillng my mouth with her juices and cum. I pull my head back and immediately following her next quiver spit my collection of her orgasms drip at the top of her ass crack. She moans in response as I watch the load slowly dripping down her crack. Just as that drip covers that starfish I dive in, my tongue catching the load as it barely reaches taint and spreads that lust filled load back up to the top of her ass crack. Licking my way to starfish again, once there, I slip my tongue in and push. Beginning with tongue at maximum protrusion. I start face fucking that ass. Slowly at first, in and out, in and out, each stroke gaining speed and force. My chin beating against taint, forehead spreading ass cheeks till i hit tail bone on every down stroke. "Oh Fuck!" I hear her say as she spins away. "Times up bitch boy." She tells me, her over pronounced smirk now irritatingly visible. Resting her back against the farthest chair. Her legs are spread to either side of the middle chair. I wish I could take a picture right now. Right now she epitomizes 'Woman' to me. Pure, raw sexuality. Her hair in beautiful disarray, a few wisps, sweat soaked and stuck precariously to her forehead. Chest heaving, eyes blinking slowly as if they don't know weather to stay open or closed. Sweat dripping sensuously from her chin to her breasts to her thighs, the cascade of lustful liquid pooking on the chair's seat, nuzzling the soft soft flesh of her inner thigh. Her luciously flirtatious lips curled upward ever so slightly at there ends almost as if fighting back a smile. Her petite yet perfect breast adorned with tiny droplets of sweat shimmering like lickable stars. Mmmm, I can damn near taste the salty passion filled elixir from here. Her milky white thighs tapering from knees to hips like flesh covered guiderails directing my sight to the gloriousness that is her pretty little, perfectly sculpted, lusciously pink, shaved slick, glistening pussy. My God what a picture that would make. "That was nice, Boi." She says her voice stale and monotone. "Why does she have to call me boy in that way? "Bitch", I say to myself. "Yes Ma'am. Will you fuck me now? I so badly want to be in you!" I say in my most innocent tone. Really I want nothing more than to scream, "I'm so fucking turned on! Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me! You devilish angel you!" Her reply... "No." This cocksucker, my arms are numb from pits to wrists, my earlier struggle definitely caused the rope to break skin. I'm bleeding. I could feel it dripping in my hand before the numbness set in. My fucking face is covered in pussy juice and ass sweat(ok, i kinda like that, so what... Don't judge me.) My dick hurts from being hard as fuck this whole time but twisted a bit inside my jeans and no way to adjust it. All that and this bitch, this amazing, loving, caring, ride or die, I love her more than I love I, fantasy cunt just says... "No." I decide I'll try a different approach. Head high and turned to the side I collect what ever funk and saliva is available in my mouth and spit it to the living room floor then quickly turn back to deliver a glare in her direction, her head snaps to make eye contact as well. Now with scowls on our faces we're locked in a staring contest so intense it's nearly blinding. I aggressively say, "I'm not fucking around whore get over here pull my God damn, rock hard, cock out and fuck me. Or I swear to..." "Oh my gosh." she interupts in a mildy childish tone "I'm sorry, let me do something about this situation, gimme one second. I'll make it all better, you'll see." "God damn right! Maybe my little whore should suck it first." I say attempting to take control and in hindsight pushing my luck a bit. She picks up her bag and steps behind me. Out of site. I hear her rummaging in that bag. "There it is..." She says with a sense of accomplishment. "There's what?" I ask with nervous vibrato in my voice. "Just what we need to proceed" she replies in an overly sweet voice. Then something slips quickly past my eyes, ouch, fuck pressure at my lips. Opening my mouth to speak and, "Mmm mmmm m mm" This Bitch just... just ball gagged me! Mother... Fuck... I love her! "So much for taking control." I think to myself while laughing in my head. She's talking, well ranting, mumbling, but mostly to herself I catch things like. "I got your little whore... Feelin fucked now I bet..on the God damn new carpet..." She steps around my side. Now wearing a short little silk Kimono she knows I love, it's loosely tied and completely sexy. She's carying the bag in one hand and moving hair from her face with the other as she aggressively kicks the two chairs in front of me aside they both tip over, the second teetering on the first. "Now. Any more orders? Sir." She asks, sharply, as she slowly turns to face me. Her demeanor Is calm and polite as if she's innocently just started a new soring day I offer no sound, being as sounds are all I could offer. I am however doing my best to say, "Fu-ck Youu." sarcastically with my eyes. I've never wore a ball gag, it's not as uncomfortable as I would have guessed though swallowing is a bit tough. Damn, she's sexxxy! She reaches into her bag and retrieves a pair of scissors. Looks at me and holds the scissors in our shared sight line and demostrates there function with a *SNIP* *SNIP*. Oh Shit, the nervousness, the thrill, the sheer (no pun intended) fucking anticipation! She reaches down and pinches a bit of my T-shirt at the center of my chest pulls it away from my body forcefully till the material tugs at my back, with a *SNIP* it snaps back minus a hole now residing middle of my chest. She then pinches my nipple, hard, I flinch and groan. She pulls till my nipple can't be pulled anymore, then pulls fabric till again it tugs at my back. *SNIP* shirt snaps back with my nipple now sore and exposed. Grinning she repeats the process in random spots and of course my other nipple. She stops abruptly, admires her work for a minute before carelessly tossing the scissors over her shoulder and disappearing to the back of me again. By the sound of her breathing I know she's behind me. But nothing happens for a few minutes. My mind steadily racing with possibilities and the thought of her fucking me. Suddenly her hands are my shoulders and sliding over my chest. Both sides of my lower rib cage are given a little squeeze. Her left hand finds a Hole on my side just below my ribs soon her other hand is there too. Caressing my flesh tracing the upper part of hip bone then with the sound of tearing fabric the pre-cut hole increases ten fold. Her hands find my sides and slide up to my armpits, then follow my clavicles to my chest's center and the first hole cut. No caress this time, no pleasurable prelude. Nope, this time I immediately feel eight fingernails damn near puncturing my flesh. I twitch at first, the pressure increases. I *squeal* for lack of better term and struggle. To no avail so, I sit still, breathe slowly, basking in the pain. "I can endure because I enjoy." I repeat over and over Inside my head. About the time I'm centered the nails start seperating... 2 inches... 4 inches... Ow... shit... fuck my... GD... nipples. "Oh you Fucking CUNT" I try to scream but, "oo yyuuffuuu uhh" is I'm sure all she heard. The shirt tears as she goes, she makes much quicker time the final few inches. Looking down I can see two of the four horizontal stripes now carved in my chest. Flesh only tore enough to bleed in a few unpatterned locations. She steps back around, the shock can be scene on face. Before sympathy or regret can kick in, I rock the chair a bit and mumble in attempt to change focus. She looks up and I give her a quick *wink*. She kneels down in front of me and slowly licks the blood from my skin delicately kissing each wound while also unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. As she addresses my last wound her finger tips are nestled in my waistline on both my sides. The moment last kiss is planted she begins pulling forcibly, roughly trying to remove my pants. I thrust my hips and squirm in attempt at easing the process. Once passed my knees she gives one final tug. With an exhale that proclaimed job well done. She slapped my balls a couple times, with two fingers on the head of my fully erect dick she pushes it down to the seat chair and lets go, it snaps back and slaps against my stomach. She snickers a bit and as she pulls it down again I roll my eyes *Slap*. She stands up, seeming pleased with herself. She looks at me and winks as she bends down, beautiful tits dangling there before me, nipples rubbing silk, acquiring what seems to be 35' or so of rope from her bag.. She has a seat on my lap as far back towards my knees as she can. Ohhh, my desire peeked imagination can almost feel her pussy on my dick. She looks me in the eye and asks,"You wanna fuck me?" I shake my head yes, yes, yes. "No ." She sternly says. She holds the rope up, makes a loop at its middle, just below the loop she grasps the two lines pulling them through the loop and creates a simple lashing loop. She looks down at my dick, then up to my face, then back to the rope and back to my dick. "Son of a bitch." is all I can say to myself. She slid the lash over the head of my dick carefully, as to avoid pinching she pulled the two strands in opposite directions. Then up and around my neck with both lengths going in taking seperate but equal routes. She gently pulls it tight so now my dick is being stretched to painfull but nothing to be done, no way to escape. With about 15 foot of rope remaining she starts wrapping coils around my torso. The coils start one turn above my nipples and made it just past my lowest rib. She wraps them through the chair's vertical rungs pulling them tight as she goes. My breathing labors under the pressuree. Stopping at mid front she tied them off to the vertical strands holding my cock up. With maybe 2- 1 foot lengths remaining, she whips at my thighs as if holding drum sticks and reenacting a Travis Barker solo, contemplating a use for left over length I believe. With a final, wince and moan inducing drum roll, this time including my cock and ending in a double handed symbol crash on my ball sack. She gets to work bringing her idea to fruition. She isolates my balls and begins wraping the rope about three coils, pushing my balls about five inches from body, ends double knotted to secure it all. While looking down and admiring her work she said, "Still wanna fuck me?" Yes, yes, yes I vigorously shake my head. "No." Of course is her reply. She interlaces her fingers behind my neck, arches her back, places her pussy on the rope coils above my captive cock and slowly slides twitching a bit when she slides over the knots. "Wanna fuck me?" She asks with a shocking amount of innocence in her voice. In protest, I make no movement an utter no sound. Not that I could do much of either at this point. Six or seven repetitions in she's grinding and thrusting quicker and harder. "DO You wanna fuck me, boi?" No innocent tones this time, No, this time the wordswere almost growled. Still I offer no reply. She grins, moans and carries on. My cock is wet, my balls are wet, the rope around them is wet. I close my eyes and throw my head back, I'm about to cum. "No!" She hollers as she slaps my face, her hips jerking the uncontrollable, unmistakable spasms of an orgasm. "Damn..." she says smiling wide as she slaps me again. "...didn't plan on cumming like that." I'm so fucking horny. So GD turned on that my hips involuntarily try to pump. "I said, No! Asshole!" She says obviously annoyed as she back hands my now blue almost purple sack. Resulting in a gringe and pain filled moan from me. Fuck, My eyes are watering too. "Don't cry, bitch boy, I'm almost through." Her voice soft, gentle almost sleepy. "You do still wanna fuck me, wanna feel that hard dick balls deep in my wet pussy, right?" She says while standing up and dropping the kimono to the floor. Casually she turns away from me. She picks up her bag, between blurry, watery vision and her beautiful backside, my view is blocked. She places something on the arm of the living room chair she first sat in. "Right bitch boy, You wanna fuck me real badly, don't you?" she moving closer and nearly whispering. Again, I'm a rock. No motion, no noise. She grabs the the vertical leads to my aching, throbbing, fading heart-on. Causing my entire body to convulse. She slowly takes a seat on my knees, "Don't you? bitch!" She yells. Her eyes fixed on the stretching of my dick the whole time. Slowly, I nod yes, as she redirects her eyes toward mine. Contact gained, she adds yet more tension to rope in her hand. She screams, "DON'T YOU? YOU FUCK!" Ignoring the the pain from my cock, I frantically tried nodding, simultaneously tried to say Yes, yes, yes... "Yhmm, hemnn,yaua" is how it came out after curling round black leather bound Teflon ball still in mouth. "You wanna fuck my mouth?" She asked loud and sternly then, displays the prize. Opening mouth wide, tongue out, curled down, she moves in toward my face cocks her head back and forth arrogantly. Mocking me. Slowing down, I nod yes, as she barks another inquiry aggressively in my face. "Wanna fuck my ass?' I nod yes, as she walks past me. "Wanna fuck my wet pussy?" Calming some. I nod yes, then pause as I realize she set-up a camera and small tripod on the arm of the chair. I remember thinking, "Shit, must be a hell of a finish she has planned." "I'm going to do a couple things, don't you dare move boi. Stay boy, stay" she cautions softly double slapping my cheek then squeezed my face roughly to a pucker with her index finger and thumb. It's quiet, except for the slight panting sounds my labored breathing is producing. I think she untied my coil cuffs from the chair back. Ok, now she's undoing the cinches that tighten the rope coils around my fore arms. "How bad do you wanna fuck me, bitch?" "Boy, *slap, slap*You wanna Fuck me?" I'm staring, I slowly nod yes. "Good... I'll be upstairs waiting. Get yourself undone, if you can. Then, come fuck me, if you want." Her words trailing off as she in all her naked Splendor heads up the stairs. Hollering from the second floor, "And clean that fucking spit off the floor, you asshole!" My arms are so numb I struggle for a few minutes just to move them to my lap. Waiting for some blood flow to return, I'm staring straight through the camera. My dick is starting to go limp the rope still refusing to do so, pulls unforgivingly, forbidding my cocks retreat. I push back the pain and focus on freeing my arms. I go at the rope puzzle backwards according to most, I shimmy my arms back and forward till I have sufficient slack to slip the original loop then rubbing wrist to wrist for a minute, bending elbows and snapping arms straight the coils swiftly slide past my hands and add to the floor's clutter. I immediately reach to unbuckle the fucking ball gag, throwing it at but past the camera. Looking at the camera every second I can. I take the pocket knife from my jeans, slide it's blade between laces and chair leg. With one swift pull, one leg is freed. Same steps on the other side and my legs are both liberated. Leaving only my well coiled torso to free. The knots are easily reached but they are tied inches from softening dick, which was being pulled so taunt by then It felt like it could tear in half. I got to my feet, bent at the waist, chair legs and chest parellel to floor. I back up to one of the rooms arched entry ways twist and bust chair bottom to pieces. Still not enough slack I have to get hard. I step to the front of the camera holding chair. Standing directly in front of it a carefully start stroking my cock from base to rope just above head and back again. "You fucking dirty slut, the way have treated me tonight... You fucking tortured me, abused me, teased me and I swear to christ...I love you! Thank you! And as soon as I get hard again...to slip this cockholding rope... I'm coming to fuck you, Im gonna plug the camera to the TV so can watch my escape while I hate fuck all three of your fabulous holes." I rant knowing full well the camera can probably only see the stroking of my cock as dark as it's gotten to be. The rant did it I'm getting hard on a random up stroke the lash slips over and off my cock's now purple head. I easily untie the coils around my nuts. Then the knots securing my torso coil after coil, after a few minutes of uncoiling... I'm completely free. I step outta the jeans remove what's left of my tattered shirt. Standing naked in front of the camera I turn a slow 360° so she can admire her handy work. Taking little more than a minute to recoup, I snatch the camera, head upstairs to claim my reward's and pine over my lovers ultra high level of kinky awesomeness!! Spun, bound, and gagged. Spun, bound, and gagged. · BDSM · We got tweaked, she got boind..eaten, lingered, plugged, her pussy fucked, her mouth fucked, hear ass fucked. All.while she's bound and helpless. Who wants to join? Sex Forum Sex forum for the Underground Sex Club. I want to be bound and gangbanged ,tonight.. Forever Kennewick-Pasco-Richland, WA (USA) · Women Seeking Men · I want to be bound and used. Served cock several cocks. All at one time.. For hours and hours I want my pussy hole stretched, I want get my tite little asshole drilled deep and my mouth and tounge exercised good. For a very long time and want evryhole ive got to be used regularly at least once a weak.. Please Heavy Evil BDSM with blotter paper to an old pathetic faggot Boston, MA (USA) · Men Seeking Men · i usually host most of the current times. i never drove or ever had a license. When i was growing up i did lot of recreation fun. As an adult i stopped and started drinking. i learn and experienced many things about BDSM. i have been submissive as young as i could remember. i was still very young when i had to deal with bondage and gang rape. Over the decades i learned about contracts about limits, and both sign for. Once i am bound helpless, Master takes the contract, rips it away then tossed to the contract to the trash. At time there is nothing i can avoid. i regularly wear a hood to keep everyone anonymous. i made a custom gag to fill my mouth so i can bite down hard and it muffles all my screams. Take pictures and record videos even better is one in each hole, the third make media then take turns. i may no consider as a sold slave but nothing wrong a little rent for Maser's benefits while a helpless prisoner.How about generous guys to do things they want to do to this pathetic faggot. i can dream Masters with blotter paper recreational to mess my mind for a good 8 hours. Cans of cleaner sprays like a few cans of Maximum Impact. Losing my mind and passing out mentally while others do physical. Or just get so drunk and stupid. i never really considered about with roofie and just forget every what happened. i can fantasize tho way to actual might happen. Boston are have many colleges and even more Frats. To be kidnapped and hooded to a Frat House to treat me like a pledge and taken to the basement. Stripped and bound helpless like a saw horse or a suspended sling. Upstairs a huge party and pass the word about the surprise in the basement and a sign Out Of Order on the bathroom. At time making a world record marathon what the do to me while helpless. Here are some of my thoughts that can be reality. Can you imagine something similar? SOUTHSIDE BOUND Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for SOUTHSIDE BOUND Oxford bound Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for Oxford bound Muscle Bound asshole Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for Muscle Bound asshole East bound and down Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for East bound and down Young, muscle bound guy looking for milfs to please Ask Women · Young, muscle bound guy looking for milfs to please · 21 year old, gym-rat looking to please a milf in any way she wants. Could be sexy chat or more, contact me here or my Instagram-@ronny_ripley. Let’s have fun, any way you want ;) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense! I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands. Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air. Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs. Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties. Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face. “What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?” Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.” I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard. I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs. I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river. For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog. The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls. I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think. The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles. John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?” I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus. “Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet. “You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly. “I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?” I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears. The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.” John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?” The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.” “Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.” He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.” “Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.” “It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.” Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?” “We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt. Shivering, I close my eyes. “Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?” “Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad. I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light. “Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall. They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel. John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open. “There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.” Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.” “I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.” “Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.” “Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp. John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.” “Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?” “At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt. Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!” “Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?” “No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening. The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out. “This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.” John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling. John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me. “I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more. “This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.” “My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?” “If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.” Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face. “Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips. “Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?” Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue. “You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.” “I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently. “That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.” I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—” “That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.” John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.” I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.” “So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .” “Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.” I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?” The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.” I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.” John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.” I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy. “That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.” “More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John. Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.” “That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?” I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.” I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.” “You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.” I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.” “Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.” The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?” “Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?” John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?” I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee. “You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.” Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in. “Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.” Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works. “Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.” I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.” I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . . My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend. “Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep. “Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.” I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!” He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.” I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts. There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.” I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles. “Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!” “Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out. “I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.” “Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.” I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth. Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers. “Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.” I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly. I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out. John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue. At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.” I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.” “Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face. I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.” Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.” I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!” “Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works. “If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.” I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?” Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins. End of Part 2 Bandung forum Sex group with the title: Bandung forum tonyctones2020 Male · Bound brook, United States of America. 6foot 1inch‚ athletic body type‚ brown skin‚ brown eyes‚ 11inch cock thick as well‚ love to have fun and all that bla bla bla ish!!!! Lol...just simply ask me anything you wanna know. Post by coxy1121 Anyone want to view my forum please please please please please. View my forum and leave a comment if you want. I also created a group if any of you people out there who wants to join my group please please please please please please. BROOK Male · dimapur, India. This is the member profile for BROOK Milestone Milestone · General · That is what it is, a milestone of life that requires something put into the bucket list. My forty fourth birthday, the entrenching realization of middle age setting in with a building sense of urgency to experience something or anything that can check mark a life with enough excitement to carry oneself for that long steep decline of age. Maybe a long ways to go, but I was bound and determined not to go gently into that good night. So I forced the issue, demanded to my family I needed to do something…anything. Thought about a cruise…everything was booked on the major lines for a year or so. Looked into an all-inclusive…the choices were slim, none for the bigger names, but found an opening in one obscure resort that actually got my blood moving. My husband said that I should do my research and then book it if I wanted, just make sure it would fit within our schedules. I booked it. Only problem was it would be tight for my husband. He was scheduled for a business trip that at the earliest would put him there late on the first day of the ten day reservation. And unfortunately, he would have to leave before the ten days were up. He told me, just in case, to book both of us on the flights as if we both could make it and if not, he would take alternative transportation and we would just eat the added cost. The resort sounded idyllic…nestled on a secluded area of a small pristine island in the Caribbean. Even though it seemed to be small there was the option of using an adjoining resorts facilities and entertainment events. The one caveat, the other resort was described as pretty risque…promoted their beach as a “clothing optional” area and called their events as “excitement for swingers at heart”. This raised the hair on the back of my neck…in a good way. Thought that this just might be the thing to spice up our lackluster sex life. My memory raced back ten years and pulled out a chapter in my life I never really shared, to my knowledge, with my husband. I had a three-month affair with a co-worker, he was fresh out of college and the company had me as his mentor before shipping him off to a territory. In reality, he mentored me. He might have been eight years my junior, but his eight inches had decades more experience than me. Never fails, even after ten years, the thought still excites me. Still, there is always the lingering guilt. Not necessarily the infidelity part, but the fact a month after he left, I had an abortion. Did not take much of a jump to know it was his, my husband had a vasectomy when I was pregnant with our fourth child. So it was obvious that the fetus was not his. So the thought of a hedonist resort next door got my juices going. Maybe my husband could be persuaded into a little extracurricular activity…and I could use it as an excuse to pursue my own illicit desires. I visualized myself with all kinds of different guys, in quite a few different scenarios. The weeks leading up to our trip pretty much wore out my vibrator. Then the planning of the trip started to hit speed bumps. My sister was going to “baby sit” my sons and daughters, but then her mother in law had an accident. Thankfully, after a week of stress, I found refuge with one of my friends. But Mark was without a place, or should I say, someone to watch over him. Granted, Mark was just about to turn eighteen, just so happens two days after my own birthday. When I would be on the island. Still, there was no way I would leave my man-child alone in my house. Already knew he was not a virgin, and without a doubt he had a lot of girls to choose from. I did not want him knocking up some girl and suffering the rest of his life. Five days before I was to leave, a friend from work offered to take him in. I was kind of skeptical, because at times Julie seemed to be just a little bit oversexed. Even though she was married, I had caught her looking at Mark as if she was a wolf salivating over a large steak. Or as she kept telling me, she was a Cougar on prowl for the next cub. The next day, my husband called…he would not be able to make it to the island until the middle of next week at the earliest. At best he would have maybe two full days. Great…maybe I should cancel too, ran through my mind, the disappointment must have resonated thru the phone. My husband caught it, and then he hesitantly suggested that I go on the trip. The rebuttal never made it past my larynx…my mind already envisioned myself as a wild animal feasting on tender flesh. All that escaped my mouth was a sharp grunt. It was not a grunt of objection. Still, he sounded conciliatory and then asked if Mark was taken care of because maybe he could go with. I quickly tried to think of an excuse, since I did not tell my husband about my fantasies or the neighboring resorts enticing assets. Shit…hell…I really wanted to go. Told him that I would ask Mark, but he probably would not want to go with his Mom. I was wrong. That evening Mark gave an exuberant, resounding yes to going. He read the brochures…and Mark being Mark, could not wait to check out the place next door. Even though that was my same intention…I shook at the thought of my son chasing naked women in my presence. But…if I wanted to go, guess Mark would have to tag along. Started to repack my stuff, did not think that I would need to bring some of my more intimate items, but then pulled out the string bikini I had bought for just this occasion. I thought about how I looked when I had tried it on…this might be the last time I could get away wearing something like this…hell, I flat out looked dynamite in it. To heck with it, son or no son, I was not going to let him stop me. It was just a little amusing when we checked in at the airport, the travel itinerary said Mr. and Mrs. We both laughed, but then again he is a Mr. and I am a Mrs. Joked about it during our travels too. Kind of played it up also, when they called us to the flight desk by Mr. & Mrs., we walked up with our arms around each other just to get a response. I got a positive wink and nod from the attendant behind the counter…then she leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I’m jealous…have fun with your cub”. Don’t know why, my vanity or whatever, but as we turned I grabbed Mark’s ass and gave it a squeeze knowing full well the attendant was watching. Mark jerked from surprise and then mouthed “what the hell, Mom”. I just playfully smiled back. When we got to the resort and checked in, we were still listed as Mr. & Mrs. But when the gal asked for our room preference, I said two beds. She looked quizzically at me and then mentioned that the only room left with two beds is the special needs one. Great…put a cripple out or share a bed with my son. I asked, “King size?” Glad I did it, our room was awesome, the double doors opened up to the beach. The other resort fence was not more than a few feet from our porch. The iron gate that separated the properties was only twenty feet away, the open bars offered a tantalizing peek into the hedonic environment. Just on the other side of the gate, a muscular man standing totally unembarrassed…completely nude, his gorgeous penis swinging in front of him as he talked with buxom naked woman. I could not take my eyes off of them, I was mesmerized…so was my son. Then he talked, “Wow…nice tits…this room is fantastic”. I hit him in the arm and feigned anger, “Mark…that is not something you say in front of your Mother!” “Oh, I am sorry, “ he faked having any remorse; “you have nice ones too”. “Nice what?” I had thought for a second I might have heard him wrong. “Tits…you have nice tits too, Mom”. “Mark…I am your Mom…stop it. Anyway, how would you know?” I quickly scanned my memory banks just in case. “Just guessing”…then slipped in, “but I am sure I’ll find out”, as he tilted his head towards our neighbors. I was just a little flabbergasted, but to be honest, a little proud that my just about eighteen-year-old son thought of his mother being able to hold her own. I quickly took stock of the room. It was not laid out for those with even a smitten of humility. There was a large tub, big enough for multiple people, totally exposed in the corner of the room, right along side a glassed in shower stall. Thought that there had to be a bathroom somewhere. Sure enough there was one, but behind the door was just a toilet and sink. Suppose that I would be using the fresh water shower down at the beach…no way I would use these in front of my son. Mark must have correctly read my consternation, a goofy smile stretched across his face as he looked at the tub and then at me. “Not in a million years, bucko”, I intentionally spit out to make sure he did not get the wrong idea. His face contorted into a pout. “Jeez Mark…I am your Mother for Christ’s sake” but I was actually amused at his reaction. At this point of time, there was not a deviant consideration in any way or form regarding the possibility of even remotely contemplating something physical happening between my son and I. But…this short back and forth, his expressions and my verbal responses were in a playful mode. So my antenna never went up in defense so to speak. Ok…we were settled in and I wanted to go to the beach, have a cocktail, unwind a bit from ten hours of total travel time. “I do not know what you want to do, but I am going to relax on the beach” I said more to myself than Mark. I grabbed my suit, hesitated when the skimpiness of it hit me, then told myself what the hell and went into the bathroom to change. Putting on my, err...my suit if you can call it that, as was obvious in my reflection of the mirror that this attire would not be socially acceptable around children back home. Especially considering one of them could possibly be my almost adult son. Heck, the small triangles covering, barely covering enough of my breasts to hide most of my areola’s, did nothing to leave the size of each of tits to the imagination. My full “C” cup mounds were pretty much out there for display. I wondered for a second if the small strings had enough tensile strength to hold them up. Scanning down and making a slight twist…the string running between my legs and up my ass crack was nowhere in sight. Fortunately, for my age, my exposed ass cheeks still had enough firmness, so as not to look as though I had saddlebags dragging behind me. As I turned back… even though I had thought I had trimmed and shaved my lower part back home, the small tuft of hair on my pubic mound could be seen just above the couple square inch patch of cloth covering me down there. Shit…too late now. I pulled the bottoms off, lathered up a little and with only three of four passes with my razor…my vaginal area reverted back to pre puberty. Gathered myself up and opened the door. I do not know who was more surprised. Mark apparently had decided late that he could quickly change into his swimsuit and figured by standing in front of the bathroom door, he could block it just in case. That did not happen, I swung the door harder than anticipated, it hit him in the head just as he was bending over to pull up his swimsuit. He went down on his back…his swimsuit around his ankles. My son’s penis flopped in an arch to his belly; I could not stop my eyes from focusing on it. My God, my son’s dick is bigger than his father’s is all that came to mind. Then it started to grow. Mark’s mouth was gapping open…he…he was staring almost in a mesmerizing way. Yet his eyes coursed over my torso…then I realized my jaw was slack too…Holy Shit…my son’s cock was now rigid…it had to be close to my ex lover’s…I shook my head coming to my senses. This all happened in less than a minute. I gurgled out, “Ah…sorry, should not have opened the door so fast. Uhmm…let me get out of your way” as I stepped over him. In and effort to not step on him…had to look, my eyes automatically went back to his cock. My psyche tried in vain to supplant morality for the lustful vision of my own son’s penis floating in my brain. Damn…I needed a drink. Made it down to the beach, spread a towel on a beach chaise, adjusted my sunglasses, and got comfortable. The first daiquiri soothed the quandary of my conflicting thoughts and started me on the path to ignoring some of my inhabitations. I rationalized that maybe my multiple week build up of expectations might have triggered some psychosis, so to get my mind off of “that” penis started to recon my surroundings. From my vantage point, not fifty feet from the wall separating the two resorts, I had an almost unrestricted view away from the neighbors, but towards the neighbors the wall blocked the angle to seeing more than a few feet of their beach. I actually thought about moving the chaise closer to the shore in hopes of visually intruding on their privacy. With a warm humor coursing through at the deviant thought, could not help but smile. But, better check out the locals first. Most of the patrons, from my resort, seemed to be a hundred or so yards away, accept two couples that were maybe twenty yards away. Noticed the two guys as I was originally walking onto the beach when one of them elbowed the other and nodded in my direction. It fed my ego immensely and it was all I could do so as to not let on. Thankfully my large, dark sunglasses allowed me to check them out without them knowing. As I settled in with my second daiquiri I had assessed the couple to be beyond the honeymoon stage and before the children raising stage at most in their late twenty’s. The two women were so engrossed in their own conversation; they completely ignored their two male partners standing with drinks their hands a couple of feet into the turf. Did not take much of a leap of logic to know that from the two guys vantage point, they had a direct line of sight to the “clothing optional” beach next door. From my standpoint, they appeared to swivel their heads in my direction more often than down the beach. Could not help but to check them out, mid to late twenties and physically fit, there was much to see. Let my mind wander as to what they might look like without their hip hanging swimsuits…where they hung? You think they would be interested in a “older” woman? Wonder if they would be interested in a threesome? That thought came out of nowhere…had never contemplated having two guys at once. The thought tickled my senses right down my spine. My nipples tightened at the thought. A quick glance at the women, they were completely in oblivion, and with the help of liquid encouragement I stood up and walked towards the water. Could have just gone right in front of me as I could feel their eyes capturing my every move. But…what the hell, let’s see just how interested they really are up close. So I altered my path to within feet of them, making sure that my movements yielded more sway than necessary and not in anyway disguising my sexual intent. My nipples were in full erection and had their full attention as I approached. While walking by, in a very planned move, I turned my head towards them lifted my sunglasses and checked out the front of their swimsuits. Raising my head I gave each a smile and wink then broke into the surf. The water was extremely warm, but felt good and still cooled down my libido a tad. Could not help feel a little of accomplishment at seeing the tents rise in those complete strangers. Movement to my left caught my attention, it was a couple over at the other resort, and even though they were quite a distance away…there was no question as to what they were doing. His back was slightly turned towards me but I could see her, and one copious tit bouncing unencumbered to each thrust he made into her. My audience was distracted…do not know what made me think they were “my” audience or why I should even care, but like a little kid throwing a tantrum for attention, I had to do something. I pulled off my skimpy top, stood up, and rubbed my tits as if they were covered in sand and I was cleaning them. It got their attention; I slowed the rubbing, their eyes glued to my chest. Brought a devious smile to my face…then to theirs. Did not last long, one of their women saw what was going on. She barked in a not so pleasant manner…like puppy dogs both the guys turned and shuffled back towards them, their heads down as if in guilt. Even from this distance, I could feel the daggers of anger coming from the eyes of the women. Oh well…so much for that. Returned my attention to the couple obviously fucking in the surf. Like a bug to a light, my feet moved me closer to them, my curiosity greater than my caution. As their details came into focus, my feet froze. The female was the one that Mark and I saw by the gate, she had to be at least my age or greater…the guy…it was Mark! I did not know how to handle this…was I jealous? Not because of my son necessarily, but more from me being extremely horny from teasing a couple of guys. All of which I knew deep down, due to the condition of having their female partners right there, nothing would have come from it. And here my son was, getting what in my mind was the real reason I wanted this trip. God damn, this woman…she was living my fantasy, not of my son but a young cock plying its hard youthful strength deep into her vagina…and not mine! Like stuck in a state of suspended animation, I just watched. She was driving down more and more violently as my son reciprocated, her head thrown back to the sky. Mark was peppering her neck, upper chest, with nibbling pecks. Then he closed around her nipple…pulling it between his teeth. I shivered at the thought of someone doing the same to me… Her breathing, even noticeable from my distance, had changed to gulping…then she arched hard against my son. My God…she just climaxed. Mark just froze and held her…did he cum too? A few minutes passed, they were still enjoined, her head now resting on his shoulder catching her breath. I could see Mark’s lower torso start almost imperceptibly to oscillate. The woman made a small whimpering sound. His oscillating movement was now interjected with an occasional thrust. She coughed up a grunt. On the second thrust, she raised her head, her arms around Mark’s neck. Their lips connected and by the third thrust they were locked into a full embrace. I watched as the crescendo built, first it was a few oscillations to every thrust, but as minutes passed, it was down to one each. My one hand was now between my legs, rubbing my fully swollen clit. I was not thinking from the stand point that that was my son fucking, it was just a cock that should be in here…as I stabbed as deep into my cunt as I could while rubbing my clit with my thumb. Any pretense of him oscillating his hips were now gone…he was just pounding, hard and long strokes as deep as he could into her. She was back to gulping air, her fingers digging into Mark’s shoulder. He definitely did not care. Just a few strokes later, could have been more but my own orgasm washed over me, a unfiltered screech came from her mouth as she arched her back at the same time my son arched his and growled grunts in conjunction with each spasm of his tightening ass cheeks. I came with the thought of each jettison of that man gunk spraying the inside of my womanhood. Their uncoupling was as if in slow motion, the woman dropping her suspended legs back into the surf. My son’s, still swollen, but semi flaccid, cock plopping out from between her thighs…a glistening string of goo reflecting in the bright sun. The woman saw me; a smile broke across her face. She reached down and held my son’s still ample cock as if offering it to me. Mark turned his head in the direction her attention, a moment of confusion on his face, a split second of guilt, then a slight smirk as his eyes cascaded down the front of me. My hand was still between my legs…the bottom of my swimsuit nowhere near me. An immediate flush of embarrassment came over me. I turned and made quick movements to the shore…my bottoms had washed up to the waters edge, I just grabbed them and a towel to wrap around me as I hurriedly made my way to our room. An hour later, my composure somewhat recovered, I was sitting on a chair when Mark came back in. The previous hour had started with dealing with my embarrassment to finishing with how I was going to deal with Mark’s apparent voyeurism. Any thought of using the emotion of embarrassment on Mark was immediately dispelled when Mark walked in. He was completely naked. His relatively large cock just swinging in front of him. He made absolutely no attempt to cover up; in fact he was making it a point to give me total views of it. I tried to look away, but he stood directly in front of me, his hunk of meat in my peripheral vision. “Mark…is it necessary to hang that thing out in front of your Mother?” There was just a little of an edge to my tone. “Why do you say that, is there something wrong with it?” He was being sarcastically immature. I was about to get defensive and lay the Mom thing on him. “Seriously Mom…I know that back home this would be considered all wrong, but next door, they say we are too hung up on nudity…that it is natural and we should not be ashamed of it. Don’t you agree? I mean…well, I saw you at the beach…uh, before and after you saw me.” I could feel my face flush, where was he going with this? “What do you mean…before?” I consciously wanted to avoid the incident involving my involuntary masturbation…and then getting caught. “Come on Ma, it was obvious to anyone you were trying to get those two guys attention. I mean really, you made sure they got an eyeful every time you moved”. “What are you talking about?” I was feigning ignorance. “Mom, you parked yourself right under the security cameras”. Oh shit…that is why the portion of the beach is almost empty. Mark continued, “tell you what, you have nothing to be ashamed about…you are one hot looking chick”. I could feel myself blush…apparently compliments work. “By the way, told you that you have nice tits!” Ugh…mental conflict spun in my head. All for compliments…but it is one thing to have my kid say I am a hot looking chick, but to actually point out sexual assets…never mind, stroked ego over decency every time. A “uhm…thanks” slipped out of my mouth. Not realizing I was staring directly at his penis dangling in front of me. He knew it, “Most of the people around here seem to keep themselves bare down there, like you,” so much for keeping the after out of this conversation “do you think I should shave it off?” God…what the hell does a Mother say? “It is up to you…” “Then why did you do it?” Am I really having this conversation with my son…who is standing just a couple of feet in front of me with a cock at least half again as big as his Father? “It is cleaner this way…and for appearances” Should have said something about appearance in my swimsuit or underwear…didn’t have a chance though. “Oh...you were planning on being nude…I must get it from you. Can I see?” I was just slightly flustered…not only from the audacity of his question, but the implication apparently was causing blood to rush to his extremity. I actually think he might be as large as my ex-lover… “Err…NO…for Christ’s sake, Get that thing away from your Mother”. Tried to sound authoritative with a hint of disgust…he saw right through it. “I’m going into the whirlpool…you can join me if you want” he said with slight laugh. “Don’t really think that would be right…but thanks for the offer.” I said in a very dilatory way. Took him twenty minutes to get the whirlpool up to temp before he climbed in…it did look relaxing and the swirling, bubbling water did cover him pretty much. Ah…what the heck, we don’t have one at home…I’ll wear my swimsuit…he is under the water. A glass of wine and relax. Mark had a shit eating grin when he saw me place my full wine glass in the cup holder. “Don’t get your hopes up kiddo…I am wearing my suit” I said jovially. Then I remembered that my Suit was sent down with the laundry and I would not get it back until the morning. Ah shit…”Mark…turn your head and do not look” I said with authority and meant it. I dropped my robe and started to climb in…Mark was looking the other way. At my totally nude reflection on the window! I slid into the water. “Damn Mom…you are even better up close!” “Don’t get any ideas, kid” even though a warm flush coursed through my body. Caught him checking our my tits every once in awhile but it did not bother me too much, could have been the wine taking affect or maybe I just did not care as our conversation went from banal to the event of the day. “You didn’t waste anytime meeting the neighbors did you?” this was precipitated by my curiosity and knew it would lead to where I wanted to go. “Nope, right after you left to sit on the beach, George from next door came over. Just to let you know…he was looking for you. Since you were already gone, he invited me over” Mark emphasized the “he was looking for you” part. “So I took him up on it” Mark was in story telling mood, as if he was discussing a camping trip, “When I told him I was only seventeen, but would be eighteen in a few days, he said that in this country sixteen is the magic number”. “What do you mean?” Was that the age of majority or just as far as sex goes? “Girls can get married at twelve with court permission, fifteen without. Guys at fourteen with court permission and at sixteen anything goes”. “So… was that woman?” my curiosity was pegged. A big smirk came across his face, “You mean Mary Anne?” “What do you mean? There was more than one?” had trouble controlling my emotion, my son is a frick’n slut? Not even contemplating the fact I was sitting with my naked kid with my naked body inches from his oversize dick. Ok…maybe I was aware of it. “Uh…yeah…but Mary Anne was the one I was with when you saw me”. “Who is she? Thought she looked a little old for you.” “Not really…she is only four or five years older than you”. If this was a compliment…it worked. Mark continued unfazed as to the shot of adrenaline that weaved from my glands to my bottom, “She is a school teacher from our state believe it or not…always dreamed about doing a teacher,” I think everyone has had that fantasy at one time or another; personally had a crush on my English teacher in High School…but our ages were much closer. Let’s see eighteen and forty-four or forty-five…I could feel my pores open up in my vagina at the thought. “Mary Anne had her boobs done awhile back and wanted an adventure before she got too old…guess I was or am part of it”. Damn…did that hit a spot of understanding! Not the boob part, but the last dance concept. Maybe I have a few years. “Is that it?” “Pretty much…unless you want the details” Apparently he wanted to go that route because he just continued not waiting for my response. He explained how as soon as he went next door, Mary Anne came and introduced herself as the one we both saw at the gate and asked about what the relationship was between him and me. Turned out that she also was on a similar vacation, she was there with her daughter, Crystal. Mark explained that he and I did not have that type of relationship. Apparently Mary Anne responded with a “too bad”. I wondered for a second if Mark was really repeating her or was expressing wishful thinking. After an initial flush feeling…I internally admonished myself for thinking that way. Mark continued as to how Mary Anne convinced him to “bare all”, which wasn’t too hard as once he looked around he knew he would not be embarrassed. But when he took his swimsuit off, she got all google eyed and after swiping his suit away from him she kind of embarrassed him by calling attention to his private parts in front of everyone. It dawned on Mary Anne at that point she had to make him comfortable. She took Mark to a slightly more private area, the area where the privacy cameras could be seen. He recognized me at the beach and pointed me out to her. Mary Anne told him that I was hot and if he had ever thought about he and I having sex. Unconsciously I leaned forward in anticipation of what his response was…don’t think he noticed, I didn’t myself. I wondered if my daughter and I would be this candid about this stuff…had to be a first for a Mom and son. He said that he mumbled an answer, whereas Mary Anne took that as a yes and instead of giving him a chance to refute her, she animatedly pointed to my actions as being in need of a good fucking. Based on the video. The whole time, Mary Anne was fondling his penis. “Mom, to be honest…watching you, listening to Mary Anne, her doing what she was doing to me…well, when Mary Anne stood up and sat on me…I could only hold out so long.” I wondered if he was implying that I had anything to do with his reaction. He continued. It had happened so quickly, Mary Anne did not have enough so she asked him if he had ever-felt fake boobs before and let him investigate with his hands, his mouth, and one thing led to another…they ended up out in the surf where I saw them. “Who were the other ones?” Not only my libido was stoked, so was my nefarious curiosity. “Only one…it was Denise”. He sounded like that was going to be it, but I was not going let it stop now. “So…explain Denise” I was adamant in getting a response. Mark hesitantly began; Mary Anne and he had gone back to festivities at the resort after their extracurricular activity in the water when Mary Anne was summoned to the office for a phone call. Mary Anne handed him off to Denise to complete the tour…Denise was interesting in that it was the first time he had actually been around a pregnant naked female. He said that even though she was showing pretty good, she told him that she was in her seventh month; she also had a very sexy aurora around her. Mark wondered out loud whether or not Denise not being much older than him, she was maybe in her mid-twenties and had a gorgeous face. Anyway, Denise told him that she was on her delayed honeymoon, patting her belly as if that was the condition needed for the honeymoon. Then she just flat told him she was going to have sex with him. He worried that he might hurt the baby…but Denise did something no other one had done to him. She went down on him. “Holy shit!” escaped from my mouth, the thought of almost eight inches of cock in my throat stunned me. No way she could take the whole thing. “Really Mom…took a few times…but she actually got the whole thing in her mouth. I…I could actually feel my…my cock in her throat. She put my hands on her neck so I could feel it going in and out!” Mark said excitedly…I moved my leg over one of his and accidentally rubbed his cock…I wanted to hesitate…shit, I wanted to feel it, see it…but, I did not. I wondered what it would feel like in my throat…and I have only given maybe ten or so blow jobs in my life. “Did you?” “Yep… could not hold back…right down her throat!” he was really excited about this. He said that Mary Anne never came back and Denise needed to do something so he started back here. Where he ran into Crystal, Mary Anne’s daughter. Even though he was naked…his suit disappeared, Crystal was fully clothed and just coming back from a sight seeing trip. This did not bother her at all. Mark’s tone changed…I surmised that Crystal made a different impression. He told me that Crystal was roughly his age and just had a fantastic personality. So why didn’t he pursue her I thought…was he worn out? In the next statement the reason became apparent, Crystal was at her time of the month and the resort does not allow the “Clothing optional” thing during that time. Then he announced that he told Crystal he would like to sight see too. Tomorrow they are going to the caves on the other side of the island. Good I thought, maybe I can take advantage of that…my vagina moistened at the thought, my brain switching back to horny mode. “So Mark, does a fake boob feel any different from a real one…of the same size?” It was a spontaneous question coming from the flash in my head of Mark talking about Mary Anne’s. Subconsciously I might have had an ulterior motive, but it was not dawning on me. “Uh?…uhm, don’t know…never really compared them”, but Mark’s eyes betrayed him, he focused on the top of my tits. I obliged and raised my chest out of the water. Knew full well this was wrong, but slid forward pulling Mark’s bent left leg between my spreading thighs while at the same time putting his hands on my tits. His jaw dropped and for a moment thought he was going to pull back. “They’re just tits Mark…what do you think…are they the same?” Can’t believe I was doing this, trying to even sound clinical. I wanted him to fondle, squeeze, twist,…hell I was ready to fucking rape him! He tentatively squeezed…then a bit more, the apprehensive look on his face turned to a more serious look…he was getting into it. My nipples yearned to be pulled…he did. I slid a little closer, Mark’s chin touched my cunt…a shock ran through my body making me jerk suddenly. My leg mashed against his balls and cock…sonofabitch…me being the bitch…in heat on top of that. I started reaching for that cock…completely ambivalent as to what I was about to do to my own son. Then the phone rang…the loud ring breaking through the fog of desire, the moment broken. Still I jumped out of the tub without a thought of humility…my naked body totally exposed to my son…I did not care. Until I picked up the phone and morality slammed me in the head. It was my husband, Mark’s father. I covered up with a towel as if there were eyes in the phone. The thought of getting caught by my husband with our son sent shivers through me. Mark on the other hand, had no vestige of humility, he climbed out, dried off, and throwing the towel in a corner then sat spread eagle in a chair facing me. That wondrous cock was in full display. My husband inquired into how our trip was going, if we had settled in. It dawned on me that Mark and I had only been here one day…seemed a lifetime ago, no that we had two different lives. Then he asked if Mark and I had anything exciting planned together. I lied and told him nothing yet instead of saying, “I was minutes away from fucking our son’s eyes out”. Then he asked to talk to Mark. When I handed the phone to Mark…he kind of blocked me in between the wall and the bed. I could not get around him unless I touched him. He saw that I was a little nervous about being that close…especially him being naked, me being naked under a towel, and his dad on the phone inches away. He was also expressing that smart-ass smirk as he listened to what ever his dad was saying. Knowing that I could not move without disrupting the conversation, I relaxed slightly. Mark caught that immediately and his had thrust under the towel grasping my left tit. To resist would have been futile and my surprised body jerk caused the towel to fall to the floor. He kneaded, then squeezed, slowly pulling towards my nipple. He turned to his right…his cock was right there…it was rigid. I fought the urge to grab it…did I want to push it away…or was I going to return the favor. I returned the favor…his body jerked in response to my mouth encapsulating the end of his dick. A head so big, it stretched my mouth. How in the hell did Denise get this monster all the way in? The thought that this was my son’s dick…coupled with the knowledge he was on the phone with his dad…the taboo of the whole situation overcame any thought of physical limitation. The end of his cock was now at the back of my mouth, my thorax slowly spreading as I pulled him further in. The body of his wonderful cock entered my larynx…moving down my throat. I had to breath, released just enough to let the air from my nostrils pass into my lungs, and then plunged that whole sausage deep into my throat. My lips buried into his pubic hairs. Ah ha! Had that fucking huge cock of my son entirely in my body! Morality be damned…it was mine. My senses were all encompassing around that huge dick in my mouth, but as if in a different room a I could hear one side of a conversation. “Yea dad…yea I know Mom is a hot looking woman” “Don’t worry…uh (he humped my throat), I’ll take care of her”. Mark held my head with one hand and thrust three or four times, his cock reaching the end of my throat on the pull back and then pushing deep into my throat. I have never deep throat ed anyone, at least not like this…but my hunger for his cock, over came any resistance. “Dad…I will give her what she needs…yea, yea…uhm” Mark froze and a hot string ejected from his cock almost straight into my stomach. I caught my breath in each stroke…more strings, all but one deep within me. The last emptied in my mouth, salty, thick, and yet creamy…only the second time in my life that I tasted semen after the first time when I told myself never again. Now I wanted more. That minute delay in the phone conversation apparently did not register to my husband as Mark finally broke his silence, “Yea sure dad…I’ll put her back on…she just had some cream, give a sec to swallow”. Then handed me the phone. It was short…he would not be able to make it at all and take care of Mark just like he asked Mark to take care of me. The first day of my vacation was almost over. Hey let’s talk Macon/Warner Robins, GA (USA) · Casual Sex · Hey I’m into bdsm. If you are let’s talk. I already knew this but now you know. http://bdsmtest.org/result.php?id=3232453 == Results from bdsmtest.org == 100% Degrader 100% Dominant 100% Rigger 100% Owner 100% Master/Mistress 95% Primal (Hunter) 95% Sadist 85% Brat tamer 83% Non-monogamist 74% Experimentalist 63% Daddy/Mommy 50% Exhibitionist 50% Voyeur 24% Ageplayer 6% Vanilla 3% Masochist 2% Pet 1% Primal (Prey) 1% Rope bunny 0% Degradee 0% Switch 0% Slave 0% Girl/Boy 0% Brat 0% Submissive I love this article so here you go, hope you get as much from it. http://madamenoire.com/1202616/monique-daddy/ I was into this life before fifty shades of grey. I always loved discipline. As long as I can remember. I'm soo aggressive and rough with it. I am into domestic discipline. I love pulling hair, slapping ass as well as a face, I'm into choking during sex and romancing all day through text message. Yes my woman will always wake up and go to sleep to those texts and romantic music. but the sex is long and rough. Neck biting is definitely my thing. I have been in this type of lifestyle all my life. This is all I know, get at me only if you are into that. I live in Atlanta right now but travel often. So I could come to a city near you, no problem. Give me a reason :p I have my own business, so I have my own time, do what I want. Only thing that controls me is I am a dad. I love to travel (can’t find much time to lately, I have three children now and I’m a great father) anyway I still love to make money FAST hustle money! Been in adult entertainment 13 yrs, but now I am a motivational speaker for my own private school group of Alpha males (exgang members, expimps and exdrug dealers.. guys just like me). I love what I do. I am a workaholic. I authored nine books and twenty magazines so far all on one subject. Yea, Im pretty fucking wild ! 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Run my own business in the day time and like to have fun at night. I am 100% gentleman. Oh yeah, Im polygamous and a father of three so my time is precious to me So don’t waste mine and I won’t waste yours. I am 100% NO BULLSHIT. I am NOT into excuses. Be great or Be nothing, nobody, not remembered or rarely talked about. Well thats just about how I am and who I am. Any institutions using this site or any of its associated sites for studies or projects - You do NOT have my permission to use any of my profile or pictures in any form or forum both current and future. If you have or do, it will be considered a serious violation of my privacy and will be subject to legal ramifications. It is recommended that other members post a similar notice to this! I am Kevin (but call me Daddy) I'm 38 years old. I dont drink or smoke. I love to work out. I live to dominate a woman. Its my thing. 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