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Nieces for the Summer Nieces for the Summer · Incest And Taboo · We were keeping my 2 nieces for the summer and the youngest would get up in the mornings with me while I had coffee and watched the news. She would climb up in my chair and sit on my lap in her Disney princess nightgown and lay back on my chest. She would always wiggle around like kids do and usually it would cause me to get 1/2 hard from her moving around. What I didn’t know is that she could feel my cock against her little butt and was trying to make me hard. After the second week of this routine she asked me what was the lump she was sitting on and placed her hand under her bottom right on my cock. This made it go from 1/2 hard to full diamond cutting hard instantly. I told her that was my penis and when it was sat on or held it would get hard and she shouldn’t grab it. I gave her a hug and said everything was ok and got up and went to the bathroom where I pulled down my shorts and started jerking off to make it go down. I came in just a few minutes all over the sink and as I was coming down from my orgasm I heard a little voice me behind me asking what was that? Are you ok? Shocked that I didn’t hear her come in I tried to calmly tell her that when a penis gets hard the only way to make it go back to normal is to rub it until it shoots out the cream inside. She seemed happy with that explanation and said ok and went back to the living room while I put my shorts back on and cleaned up the sink, while starting to get another chubby thinking about her watching me. So the weekend rolls though with the house full of people and so much activity I really hadn’t had a chance to think about what happened - too much. Monday morning my wife was taking my 2 nieces to a summer day camp but that morning my youngest niece said her stomach hurt and asked if she could not go. I work from home so I told my wife that would be fine and I would give her an update later on in the day. I got my niece some juice and a cup of coffee for myself and went to my chair to watch the morning news. She was already in my chair and had cartoons on the tv. I laughed and asked if I could sit with her. She giggled and jumped up to let me sit down then climbed in my lap. We sat there for about 10 minutes just watching tv and she wasn’t doing her normal wiggling of her butt in my lap so I thought that we had ended that morning routine. As I was sitting there feeling sad about that she spun around in my lap with her legs on either side of my thighs with her princess nightgown up high enough to just see the crotch of her light blue panties. She held her juice up to her mouth kind of hiding her face and quietly asked me if she could make my penis hard again - she wanted to see it. I didn’t know what to say at first but my cock sure did. It swelled up almost immediately making a tent in my gym shorts. She giggled and asked if she made it do that and I told her that when a pretty girl shows me her panties and asks to see my penis it would always get hard. She asked if she could see it and I told her that she could pull down my shorts and take a look and that I wasn’t wearing underwear. She grabbed the top and pulled down about 1/2 way and just stared. I was so excited there was precum dripping from the end and she asked if I was peeing. I explained precum to her and asked if she wanted to taste it. She made a grimace and shook her head no so I milked put a glob and wiped my finger across the head of my cock collecting it and stuck it in my mouth. Mmmmm it was so sweet I told her. She was still holding my shorts down so I told her I would be more comfortable if she took them completely off and she could see better too. She stood up on the ottoman and pulled my shorts completely off then sat back down straddling my thighs, this time pulling her nightgown back so I could see all of her light blue panties and her little mound. Her legs were spread wide but I could tell that she had a puffy little mound and that made my cock twitch. She just sat there looking so I picked up my cock and pointed straight up at her stomach and asked her if she was wanted to touch it. She didn’t say anything but nodded her head so I took her left hand and rubbed her fingers across the shaft and then laid her hand there. She timidly touched it and slid her hand across my cock and pushed my balls around some. I was pouring precum by this time and she ran her finger across the head of my cock and gathered some on her finger, then lightly licked her finger. She then gathered up a glob from my stomach and sucked her finger clean saying it did taste good and that she liked it. I told her if she liked that she would love my cream when it came out. She asked me if I meant what shot out in the sink last week and I told her yes, that when she made me get all hard I had to rub it until my cream came out. I then asked her if she wanted me to show her how to do that, and she smiled and nodded her head yes. So I took her little hand and told her to lightly grip my cock. It was so cute to see her hand only go 1/2 way around my cock - which isn’t super big but looked huge compared to her hand. I placed my hand on top of hers and told her to follow me, and started slowly stroking up and down. After about 12 strokes I took my hand away and she stopped for just a moment and then continued on her own. Because her hand was so small my cock slipped out a couple times so on her own she grabbed my cock with both her hands and continued stroking me. My cock was pointing up my body toward my stomach as she straddled my legs so I told her to lift it up so it was resting on her stomach as she jerked me. My precum was spotting her princess nightgown as she jerked me this way so I told her she should take it off so as not to get it messy. She nodded in agreement and let go of me - making my cock slam back into my stomach with a loud slap which made her giggle and do it 3 more times before grabbing the sides of her nightgown and pulling of off over her head. Naked except for her light blue panties which were a little small on her was a sight to behold and I soaked in her innocent beauty. No breasts yet but her nipples looked a little long, flat stomach and a pronounced mound of her little blue panty covered pussy. She scooted up my thighs a little pushing her panty covered pussy into my balls and grabbed my cock again with both hands. As she started awkwardly jerking me again the head of my cock was smearing precum across her stomach making it slippery and feeling wonderful. I think I moaned or made a weird noise because she stopped her hands from moving but didn’t let go and asked me if I was alright. I told her I was wonderful and if she continued that motion at the same pace I would shoot my cream for her very soon she smiled and went back to making her hands move up and down while gripping my cock - truth be told a little to firm - but I couldn’t say anything in fear she might stop. As I got closer to cumming I was moving my hips up and down making my ball sack grind into her mound. She never said anything so I wasn’t sure she was enjoying that but I sure was and then came that wonderful moment of not stopping the inevitable. As I felt it coming near I asked her if she wanted to taste my cream like she did with my precum and she said she wasn’t sure, and I told her that was alright but not to stop her hands jerking me as I started shooting it until I told her to. She nodded her head and kept jerking and staring intently at my cock resting on her stomach with both of her hands wrapped around it. The first shot of cum flew straight up in the air and landed back on her hands making her jump a little and let go with one hand. She continued stroking me but now my cock was pointing at my chest and the next 3 shots covered my stomach and filled my belly button. After the fourth shot I told her to stop and she just sat there watching my cock twitch and drool the remnants of my orgasm. I was breathing heavy and was thinking that this was the most intense orgasm I had ever had when she brought her cum covered hand to her nose and smelled my cum, then stuck her tongue out and cautiously tasted a little. She wrinkled her nose and said that my cream wasn’t as sweet as the other stuff before, so I wiped up a little on my finger and stuck it in my mouth sucking it clean. I agreed it want as sweet but it was very tasty and was full of good things for you. She tasted her hand again but said she didn’t really like it. I assured her that it was ok she didn’t like it now - but that maybe one day she would and I thanked her for an amazing orgasm. She tilted her head a little and looked puzzled, then asked me what an orgasm was. I told her that an orgasm was the best feeling in the whole world and that she had made me have one using her hands on my cock. She smiled real big and beamed proudly over her achievement and I asked her - already knowing the answer - if she had ever had an orgasm? She shook her head and said no, so I asked her if she ever rubbed herself. Once again she looked a little puzzled and shook her head no again. I told her to let me up and I would get a towel to clean her hand, stomach, and myself, then I would explain everything to her. I can back into the room and she was sitting criss-cross on the ottoman still with only her light blue panties on. I cleaned her hand and wiped down her stomach and tossed the towel on the floor. I told her to sit back in my chair and this time I would sit on the ottoman. She scooted across and sat with her knees pulled up to her chest giving me an amazing view of her little panty covered pussy. I pulled the ottoman out and sat down facing her and place my hands on her knees. I told her that an orgasm was a feeling that slowly builds up until it explodes through your whole body and that was what she had done for me earlier. She smiled knowing that I was giving her a compliment but not truly understanding what I was talking about, so I continued. Just like when my penis gets hard because a pretty girl shows me her panties and rubs on it, girls get excited the same way but instead of getting hard they get wet with their own precum. I didn’t really know if she could get wet at her age but in the back of my mind I knew that I wanted to lick her to her first orgasm anyway. I told her that girls got excited and would feel a tingle in their stomach and pussy when they got real excited. She grinned big and said that her stomach and thingy had been tingling for the past 30 minutes. I told her that was good and that meant that she was wanting to have an orgasm. I guess I was playing it too slow because before I could continue with my talk she blurted out now can she have an orgasm? It was my turn to smile and I told her I would be glad to show her but this had to be a secret between the two of us because if anyone found out I would be sent away and not be able to see my family for a long time. She nodded and said she understood so I told her to stand up in the chair and take off her panties. She complied without any hesitation and handed me her light blue panties. I looked at the crotch to see if there was any sign of wetness but I didn’t see any. While she was standing there her mound was eye level to me and I was mesmerized but the perfect slit with no hair to be seen. While she was still standing I told her that girls would get excited when their breasts were played with. She giggled and said that she didn't have breast and called me silly, so I reached up and lightly pinched both of her nipples at the same time. She yelped a little and both her nipples piped out hard as a rock. So I leaned up and took her left nipple in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it and lightly sucked. She grabbed my head with both her hands and sucked in a deep breath. I moved over to her right nipple and continued my actions and she started breathing erratically and she said that she had never felt anything so good before. I stopped licking her nipple and looked up at her and said that she hadn’t felt anything yet - the best was yet to come - no pun intended. She didn’t understand what a pun was but it really didn’t matter to her at that point. I told her so sit back in the chair and slide her bottom kind of up to the front of the chair and when she did I bent her legs up and placed her feet on either side of her butt. For the first time I was seeing her little pussy open and in all its glory - and it was beautiful. I just sat there for a minute soaking in the view until she jerked my attention back to her by putting her hand over her mound and with the palm of her hand she pushed on her pussy and moved her hand back and forth 3 quick times and said that her thingy was itching. I told her that was her pussy and to let me take a look and see if I could make it stop itching. I used my fingers to slowly open her fat little mound and seeing her darker pink lips and her light pink clit - standing at attention already. I lightly ran my finger from the bottom of her pussy all the way to the top without hitting her clit yet and was very surprised to find that she was a little wet at her age. I licked my finger and her flavor was so sweet and clean, I knew I had to put my tongue inside her but I didn’t want to scare her. So I told her that I saw the problem and that I could kiss it and make it feel better. She gave me a funny face and asked me if I really was going to kiss her peepee, and I just smiled and told her to trust me and enjoy. I scooted back and leaned in and wrapped my lips around her little hard clit and lightly sucked and swirled my tongue just as I had on her nipples. She instantly went rigid and grabbed my head with both hands. She started whimpering as I continued licking every inch of her sweet little pussy with about every 10 licks giving her clit a few strokes. This was the sweetest pussy I had ever tasted and that fact was not lost on my cock which was now as hard as it had ever been in my life I reached down to feel it and I had more precum than I ever had running down the shaft and covering my balls. I took my finger and got it slippery with my precum and as I was licking her clit I slowly inserted it into her wet little pussy. I got it a little past the first knuckle when she panted that she felt like she was going to pee and that she needed to go to the bathroom. I stopped licking her but kept my finger in her slowly rubbing her inside and told her that she really didn’t have to pee but what she was feeling was an orgasm building up. I asked her as my finger was still inserted and rubbing her insides if she wanted me to stop and she just shook her head no and kept breathing heavily through her open mouth. I leaned back in and stuck my tongue back inside her sweet pussy where my finger had been and tongue fucked her for a few minutes until her thrashing around made it too difficult to keep my tongue inside her so I reinserted my finger until I felt it get too tight to continue. Not wanting hurt or freak her out in any way I didn’t try to push through her hymen instead I just kept rubbing the inside top of her pussy lightly and went back to sucking on her clit. She moaned louder than normal and her legs clamped around my head with an amazing amount of strength. I could feel her little pussy squeezing my finger - in fact she squeezed so hard it pushed my finger out of her, all the while I am still sucking on her clit and running my tongue all the way down to her asshole and back up to her clit. Then just as sudden as she went rigid she went limp as a doll. I stopped licking and looked up at her and I thought for a minute she had passed out. Her head was turned to the side, her mouth open and her eyes closed, just breathing heavy. I sat there for what seemed like 10 minutes but in reality it was probably about a minute when she opened her eyes, scooted back in the chair, and while smiling at me she said that was the most perfect wonderful feeling that she ever had, and if we could do that again…. The week crawled by with no time alone with my niece. Thursday afternoon some of the kids in the neighborhood came over and wanted to go swimming. I told them to play in the basement for about an hour until I finished up some work then I would go out back with them. It took me a little longer to finish but then I went down to the basement to get them (3 girls and 1 boy). At the bottom of the steps I hear “Not like that - do this” so I stopped for a minute to listen to what they were arguing about. Then I hear a loud “yes!” So I peeked around the corner. My youngest niece was sitting on the couch facing me and the other 2 girls were sitting on either side of her staring intently on the boy kneeling on the floor in front of her with his head between her legs. My niece was giving him step by step instructions and wasn’t cutting him any slack. Her sister was 3 years older but was much more reserved - or so I thought. She stood up and pulled her swim bottoms off then sat back down and told the boy to do that to her now. The boy scooter over and started licking her immediately and I watched her face go blank. She was holding his head with one hand and her hair with the other and immediately began to whimper. My youngest niece walked behind him so she could get a good look of what he was doing to her and started giving him some directions. I never knew she was so dominant and I began to wonder if I had instigated our encounters or had she! The boy took instructions very well and continued to make my older niece moan and giggle on the couch. After a few minutes the youngest niece asked their friend if she wanted to try it. This whole time she had been sitting on the couch just watching and not saying a word. She just slowly shook her head no and maybe whispered something but I couldn’t hear her. I adjusted my hard cock so I could walk and went back upstairs and then called for them. I heard a lot of scurrying around then they 3 girls came running up the stairs with the boy behind them. They were all dressed for the pool and smiling and the boy had a prominent erection poking out of his suit. I took them out back to the pool and had lemonade and popsicles ready for them. After a bit of splashing around with them I got out to sun and watch them play until the girls got tired and wanted to sun for a while. I could tell that the boy was bored just laying there so I asked him if he wanted to play a video game inside I could set it up for him. He eagerly accepted and ran inside. Back in the basement I started setting the game up on the tv and he was sitting on a towel on the floor. I turned around and saw he was still hard and had a dirty thought about the situation. I told him that this game was fun but probably wasn’t going to be as fun as what he did to my nieces. He went beet red and looked down at the floor. I asked him if he enjoyed doing that to my nieces and what would his parents think if I were to tell them what he was doing. He actually started to tear up and stuttering he was sorry. I felt instantly bad to have pushed him that far so I walked over and gave him a hug and told him that I wasn’t going to do that to him. With him still sitting on the floor he had risen to his knees for my hug and I had the side of his head on my crotch which was growing by the second. I made sure to let him feel my hard cock lying under his head and I told him that those games he played with my nieces were fun but there were other games that he would like too. He looked up at me with a questioning expression with my cock at full mast in my swimsuit and I asked him if he wanted me to show him these games. He nodded yes and I told him to stand up and I sat down on the couch. He was standing in front of me with a nice size tent in his swim trunks staring me right in my face. I told him that I watched him licking my nieces and told him that he did a good job with them but they didn’t return the favor. He was just standing there with a smile on his face but not saying a word, so I asked him to pull down his swimsuit. He did so without any hesitation and out popped the cutest little hard cock I had ever seen. It was actually bigger than I expected at about 4 1/2 inches long but not very thick, and his balls were pulled up so tight they were almost inside him. As I took in the wonderful sight of his hairless privates I told him that just like when he licked my nieces and they enjoyed it, men enjoyed being licked too and I asked him if he would like me to show him. He quickly said yes and nodded his head, almost in unison of his little hard prick jumping up and down. I pulled him in close to me and ran my tongue from the base of his cock to the tip savoring the clean flavor of his pool washed dick. When I got to the tip he giggled and pulled back a little, so I pulled him back up to me and slid his whole cock into my mouth with my tongue circling the head. He went from a little giggle to a full blown moan that was drawn out as a oohhhhhh and his knees buckled a little. I was savoring the feeling of his thin rock hard cock in my mouth and was wondering if he could actually shoot cum yet when he started shaking and grabbed my head with both hands. He started making involuntary hip thrusts and shaking all over and gave a guttural groan as his cock pumped into my mouth. He then bent over my back to remove his cock from my mouth saying it was too sensitive and then fell onto the couch next to me breathing very heavily. There was not ejaculate yet but he had just experienced his first orgasm and this was the second person in 2 weeks that I had given that glorious experience to! I told him that he had just had an orgasm and asked him if he liked it. He was grinning from ear to ear nodding his head yes with a glazed look in his eyes. I then informed him that as he got older when he had an orgasm he would shoot his cream out of his cock and that he would like that feeling even better and the taste too. He was sitting on the couch next to me with his swimsuit around his ankles still a little out of breath when I stood up and pulled my shorts down. My hard cock popped up slapping my stomach as I turned to face him and without asking if he wanted to do to me what I did to him, I placed my hand on the top of his head and rubbed his hair lightly and eased his mouth toward my cock. He followed my previous actions to him almost perfectly, running his tongue from the base of my cock all the way to the tip, but my cock was gushing precum that covered his tongue. He pulled back and looked at me with disbelief on his face and asked if I was peeing? I quickly explained precum to him and squeezed a glob out on my finger and stuck it in my mouth savoring the sweetness. Seeing this he tentatively licked the head of my cock again gathering a glob of precum on his tongue and gulped it down like a pro. I continued rubbing his hair and told him that he was doing a great job and to continue sucking on my cock like a Popsicle. I wish I could tell you he was a great cocksucker but in truth he wasn’t - but the visual of him licking me and his little cock still rock hard combined with the flavor of him still in my mouth was all I could take. With my right hand on his head I grabbed my cock with my left hand and told him to lean his head back and stick out his tongue. I almost lost my orgasmic momentum because he did just that - but had his mouth closed like he was just making a funny face sticking his tongue out at me. I stifled a laugh and told him to open his mouth with his tongue out and before he could comply, my first shot of cum hit him right in the nose. He turned his head to the side and tried to back up but I was still holding his head with my right hand so the second, third, and fourth shot went across the side of his face. I let go of his head and he was wiping cum out of his nose (it actually went up his nose) and I took my finger and gathered some off the side of his face and told him to taste it. He stuck his tongue out a little and I pushed my finger into his mouth where he sucked it clean. I repeated the process 2 more times until all of the cum was off his face, then I squeezed my cock up making another glob collect on the end. I told him to suck the rest out of the end of my cock to clean it good and he quickly complied. He said that he really liked the taste and couldn’t wait until he could do that for himself. I laughed and said that he would before too long, but in the meantime as long as he kept it a secret between the 2 of us I would “let” him taste mine whenever he wanted. I finished setting up the game for him and told him to pull up his pants as I took one more feel of his still hard little cock and I was going to check on the girls. It was time for my wife to come home so the girls came in and got their things together. Everyone was acting so normal I was getting really excited about the possibilities for the next week they were with us - and Mark, the neighbor’s son, was going to be around longer! My wife got home and opened a bottle of wine then started cooking dinner and told my nieces to go ahead and take a bath and get out of their swimsuits. I was in the kitchen chatting with my wife and about to open another bottle of wine when my youngest niece yells downstairs for a towel so I told my wife I would get one and take to her. I grabbed a couple out of the laundry and walked upstairs to the bathroom and knocked on the door which opened as I knocked. There was my youngest niece standing there completely naked staring at herself in the mirror and pinching her little nipples. She smiled when she saw me and walked over to get the towel but instead of grabbing the towel she grabbed my crotch and started squeezing my cock. I took her hand away and shut the door behind me and knelt down to her level. I told her that I loved her and really enjoyed playing with her but we couldn’t do this while my wife was home that she could catch us. She dropped her head with a sad look on her face so I wrapped the towel around her and picked her up and sat her on the counter as I gave her a long hug. I lifted her head up to look at her face and she gave me a deep kiss. As we were kissing I slid her down the counter so I was standing in front of the bathroom door so it couldn’t open and pushed the towel off her shoulders. I broke the kiss and told her to lean back and we could do something real quick but then we had to go back downstairs. As she leaned back against the mirror I spread her legs open and up a little and bent over and licked her freshly bathed hairless little cunt. She sighed and opened her legs a little more so I attacked her little sweet pussy with aggressive licking and sucking, enjoying the sweet flavor and her body gyrations. I’m almost no time she clamped her legs around my head and lifted her little ass completely off the counter as she whimpered a little too loudly. I placed my hand across her mouth to help muffle the sounds as I continued my tongue assault on her hard little clit. Her hips jerked upward with my head locked between her legs and then she went limp again. It was like an orgasm took all of her life force away for about 45 seconds and she was limp as a doll. I stood up taking in the beautiful sight of her laying there on the towel with her little pussy glistening with my saliva. She smiled as I rearranged my hard cock in my swimsuit and she asked what about me? Could she do me know? I smiled and told her I would like no nothing more than that but we didn’t have time now, it would have to wait until later. Later that night when in bed with my wife she actually asked me in the middle of a very heated set of sex what had me so riled up….if only I could have told her. The weekend was long with everyone at the house. Even Mark and Elise, the friend of my nieces, came over and swam on Saturday. There was no chance to be alone but that didn’t stop my youngest niece Karly and Mark from teasing me. I began to wonder if they knew about each other’s playtime with me or if they had their own secret. I went in the kitchen to start getting the burgers ready and Karly came in a few minutes later. She jumped up on the counter in her little yellow bikini next to where I was chopping lettuce and spread her legs wide and started rubbing her crotch. She told me that her pussy seemed to tingle or itch all the time now and the only thing that made it better was for someone to lick it. I smiled and told her I would love to lick her but my wife and everyone else was right outside at the pool. She kind of pouted but said she understood then gave me a hug and went back outside. Mark came in just as she left and asked for a coke. I told him to get one out of the fridge and he did then walked over and stood beside me while I was peeling an onion. He told me that he had a new secret and wanted to tell me. I put my arm around him and told his that he could tell me anything while I was checking out his little package in his Speedo. It seemed that he was hard and dressing to the left but I really couldn’t tell from my angle. He told me that he had shot cream out of his cock last night when he played with it - well not exactly cream but he shot a clear sticky liquid and it tasted great. I reached down to feel his little cock and it was hard as a rock. I told him I couldn’t wait to taste it for myself. When I said that he pulled his swimsuit down and his cock was pointing straight up. I looked over the counter to the pool and saw where everyone was and dropped down to a squat for a quick taste. He could see over the counter so I told him to watch for anyone coming this way and started sucking his little hard cock. It was probably my imagination but it seems as if his balls were a little bigger or at least hanging lower that before. I was loving the feeling of his little cock in my mouth and the taste of a mixture of chorine and what I assumed was precum and didn’t want to stop, but he started tapping the top of my head and grunting so I stood up expecting someone to be walking in. There was nobody there and Mark said he was sorry but he was about to shoot and wanted me to know. I smiled and told him thank you and he could shoot in my mouth that I would like to taste him. I looked over the counter again and dropped back down to that amazing little hard cock and slurped it back in my mouth with my tongue swirling the head. Mark started gasping again and started little jerks of his hips and then groaned, with his legs buckling. I didn’t feel him shoot so much as I tasted him. It was as sweet as my precum but more of it and a little thicker. I have him one last strong suck and pulled his swimsuit up then swatted his butt, told him that was delicious, and he needed to go back to the pool. He laughed and took off to the pool while I finished prepping the burgers with a wonderful taste lingering in my mouth. To be continued.... A Pilot’s Good Time General Discussions · A Pilot’s Good Time · Fly-ins and travel for pilots to hook up with women for true NSA adventures. Fly in, have a good time, fly out! Not looking for a Co-pilot. Just a good time and another reason to fly! With a Private Pilots License, a pilot can fly into smaller public general aviation airports. The options are unlimited! This is generally for the ladies but anyone can answer. 1) Where would you fly for some NSA action and 2) what would you do to get a pilot to come visit you?! Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) · Fetish · There’s something in the bible I heard preached when I was very young, back when girls were still allowed to go to school. It described Eve as Adam’s “help-meet,” and went on to add that just as with the world with all its animals, women were put upon the Earth to benefit men. The reading came again a few weeks later after there had been rioting in the streets. The monotone voice again repeated that women were intended by God to be the perfect servants of men, a resource to be used and enjoyed—even harvested as sustenance to feed hungry bellies. “Let the woman return to her original purpose,” the speaker had said. “She is made for recreation, for procreation, and above all else—to nourish and sustain men.” I was twelve when I was taken from my family. I have no idea what became of my mother and two younger sisters, for they had vanished like so many women and blemished girls. My older sister still lives, as far as I know, doing one of the many things attractive girls must do. As for me, my name is Dani, and at fourteen years old I’m almost to the age of usefulness. This camp that I am staying at is actually meant to deprogram boys and teach them God’s will. Each camper is assigned a girl as his project on the first day. For one month that boy is expected to work with his girl, doing his best to ready her for service. This involves a lot of coaching, as our thoughts too, were in need of correction. My boy is Pete, a tall lanky youth with thin hands. Once Pete had played the piano, but now I’m his instrument. The first part of each day I must spend in the tank. For three hours I’m required to swim without resting—never touching the sides unless absolutely necessary. I am of course naked as all girls are. We can wear robes when we get chilly. But if a male staff member should cross our path, we are to uncover ourselves for his inspection. For we females are lowly creatures. Such things as privacy or pride are a male privilege only. It would not be so bad, except for the blistering summer heat. The men are never too concerned, since girls are not to live long anyway. But at least most places around the park are protected somehow. The tank where I swim has a wooden overhang. Even the walkways we girls take to get to our meals have covers overhead. It is a Tuesday and I have finished my swim. I towel off my chilled body, and then I await the arrival of my coach. At age fourteen my breasts are now at last showing promise. I suppose I would be into a C cup by now, if such a thing as bras still existed. Pete will focus on my breasts first in his obsession to make them larger. I pad into the empty gymnasium beside my tank, starting on the bench press to strengthen my pecs. After this I do my sets of push-ups, followed by cable flies. Pete enters the gym and quietly watches me as I work, his gaze on my chest as I separate my arms. “Done pullovers yet?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Pull downs?” No. Another negative. “You’re behind, Dani.” I nod, and as I stand, he gestures me over to the freestyle weights. We work together for about an hour, and Pete makes me repeat the sets he missed. “Now stand before me,” he commands in his bossiest voice. I obey at once, my head turning sideways as his hands massage my breasts. I tense when he takes my nipples and pinches them gently, rolling them thoughtfully between his fingers. “Your sister’s tits are huge,” Pete says, “So I know we can get you there, too.” He cradles my right breast, rubbing it firmly between his palms. “She’s a swimmer, isn’t she? That’s the work I want for you. It’ll keep you cool in the summer. During the winter they heat the water so it’s no big deal.” I nod, thinking of my many long hours each day in the smaller tank behind the aquarium, away from the public’s view. The large glass container had once held salt water and fish, but now the water was pure, slightly warmed and clear. All the girls in the performance pool out front are at least seventeen, with thin waists and jewelry adorned breasts that sway and bob as they move. Some are costumed as mermaids, while others crouch before the underwater glass, spreading their legs for the men on the level below to see. It is a millionaire’s club—or a billionaire’s club. I’m not sure which and I guess it doesn’t matter. Though now I see the police in the parking lots, too. The elite who run this club favor the town’s sheriff, a greasy fat man who supplies them with the prettiest girls. Pete is crouching before me, his knees spreading my thighs where I stand, then pulling apart my girlhood with his fingers. I continue to look away, my eyes closed as I feel one finger find the wet spot between my legs. He rubs gently, a slow circular motion that spreads my fluids out, making me slippery in every crevice. Then he slides one finger slowly in. I open my mouth, licking my lips as the finger crooks and explores my interior. Pete pulls it back out and shows it to me, flecked white with my juices. He returns to his work, separating my folds and spreading them flat. Two fingers sink in, reaching upward as far as they can. Pete is holding my buttocks close to his chest, his arm cocked as more fingers glide in. Four fingers now, clamped together to form a funnel. “What are women for, Dani?” Pete asks. He is up on his knees, his strong arms around me. “To . . .” I am panting. “Please men!” “Exactly.” Pete tucks his thumb into the funnel of his half-inserted fingers. “Slow and easy,” he croons. I feel the skin around my opening stretch wide almost to tearing. Remembering my previous sessions, I breathe slowly, deeply, and relax my legs. “Good girl,” Pete observes. His strong arm holds me steady as he works. “Now what is God’s will?” “That I should please men,” I answer. I lean over his head, my fingers grabbing his hair. He is tilting his hand slowly from side to side, softening the mouth of my pussy even more. “Dani,” he admonishes. “You’re trying too hard. Shall we give you your pill?” “Y-yes!” I cry. Smiling, he reaches into his pocket and produces the tiny tablet. I swallow it quickly, gratefully, and then droop forward again, my soft breasts draping over his head. He continues to smile, his hand maintaining the gentle rocking. His four fingers are half inside me, with the added girth of his thumb. He rotates his hand in a circular motion, tilting it up and down, and then side to side. I am feeling the heaviness begin in my legs. My tongue goes dry, cottony. I feel my eyelids drooping. He removes his hand and lowers me onto my back, his hands separating first my petals, and then my opening. I hear the pumping sound as he squirts lube through a tiny straw directly inside me. “Gently now,” he breathes. I close my eyes. The fingers are stretching me more with every movement, and I feel them pushing, working their way in. Pete has my pelvis lifted—pillowed on his thigh. My legs are up and flopped to each side, my feet dangling close to my shoulders. The pressure continues as the fingers twist, as more of the thumb makes it in. I feel my muscles submitting around his hand, the tight sensation easing somewhat. There is one more hard push, and then he is in me, embraced by my flesh, his entire hand delving inward. I am drifting with the currents of the drug, feeling his hand pressing me out, the fingers turning to expand my interior. He progresses until his knuckles touch my cervix. I let out a gasp, though my sleepy eyes are closed. “Now listen to my voice,” he says. “This camp is about preparing you girls to be women in this new world. Proper women—not like what you were before. The grownups can’t do it. There are strict laws against pedophilia now. But they can watch if they want to, because they are men, and men can do whatever they want.” “Whatever they want,” I repeat dully. “This is the first time I’ve had my whole hand inside you,” he tells me. “You’re so amazing, Dani. I am proud of you.” I nod as his hand glides in and out, exits and re-enters my body. I feel fluid dripping down, the feathery touch of his fingertips on my clit. With every stroke my body submits more, my muscles softening under the pressure and pull of his hand. He seems tireless as he works, his muscles rippling in his arm as he changes angles, sinking deeper than before, touching places no one’s been. He motions me to cross my ankles, then lifts my legs over my belly, holding them aloft with his hand behind my knees. He rolls into a crouch, and now uses the weight of his arm to drive quickly in and out. I grunt rhythmically with each penetration. More liquid dribbles where I can feel it. I can see his hand glistening as it withdraws, his tanned smooth skin flecked white with my juices. He enters again and pauses, then speeds up his tempo, the hand barely entering before snapping back out. I am loose now around his wrist, my flesh yielding as he turns and angles and stretches. Then once more he resumes the deep plunges. A whole hour passes and still Pete works. He is panting hard with exertion, sweat trickling down his neck. I climax twice and still he continues, his face sprayed with my fluids. “You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete soothes as he works. “I’ve made a device I want you to wear to bed tonight, and every night. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.” “Okay,” I mumble groggily. “As much as I’m loosening you right now, in an hour you’ll be tight as a drum again, maybe even more. We need to keep training your body. It must remember how to open, be readily accessible whenever men want it. Most men want to fist, but rarely are willing to do the work. So you must do it for them. Understand?” I close my eyes as Pete lowers my legs. Now he raises one to his shoulder, my other one dangling free. He rolls again to his knees, and lifts my pelvis with him. The hand is gliding in and out, so effortless I barely feel him. Then finally he withdraws and sets me down, wiping me out gently with a warmed washcloth. I feel him strap something around my waist. Then something firm and cold slides in. There is a pull and click of a buckle in front, and then another behind. “There,” Pete says in satisfaction. “That’ll hold it in place. Wear this for the rest of the day, ok? And to bed tonight. Over time we’ll swap this out—graduating to larger sizes. But this is good to start.” “You do nice work,” an older voice said. “Keep track of her depth from now on. Vagina and rectal both, if or when you get that far. You can pass the info on to the next boy assigned to her. I was wondering.” The doctor eyed Pete speculatively. “If you’d like to stay on after next week. Work part time here while you’re going to school.” “What would I do?” Pete went to the sink to wash his fingers. I climb to my feet, staring at the length of black leather around my waist. I could feel the object hard within me, and the trickle of fluids down my leg. “Help train the new boys coming in,” the doctor said. “You could also measure these girls and keep a spreadsheet. The measurer’s in your kit. Have you used it yet?” The doctor turned and I lost track of the voices. My insides were warm and pleasantly achy, the area between my legs throbbing. “It’s a deal then,” the doctor said in a hearty voice. “Good. I’ve been watching you work and I recognize your skill. It’s not just about getting as much as you can to fit. It’s an artform—as you know. A kind of dance.” I like to think I’m helping her reach her full potential.” The doctor coughs. “That’s a great way to see it,” he says. “The value of the woman depends entirely upon her usefulness. Even those we harvest for food—even they have more purpose in life than a woman left on her own.” There was a pause as the doctor sauntered off. Then I felt Pete’s hand on my bare shoulder. “Think you can walk with that thing?” he asks. I nod slowly and take a few steps. *** “Get your holes nicely stuffed?” Breanne glares at me across the aisle. The barn is chilly today, its high rafters filled with the chatter of small birds. I sprawl sideways on my bunk, the highest of a stack of three. The barn has been styled in the manner of the Auschwitz prisoner barracks, with long narrow rows of bunks. There are three rows altogether, with the capacity to hold ninety girls in one barn. We have numbers assigned to us, too, like the residents of the Nazi camps. Only ours are hidden—tiny microchips beneath our skin. I shrug. The blond girl hates me intensely. “Just the one,” I respond. “She’s jealous of Pete,” another girl quipped. This was Diane, a fiery redhead that the men favored. “I am not!” Breanne returns hotly. “I just hate how she just lays there. Like she’s not even alive! And look. He’s put a spacer inside her. Gonna stretch her nice and wide!” I glare at the rafters, my arms pillowing my head. “We’re supposed to stay open, aren’t we?" “No, we’re supposed to fight!” snarls Breanne. “We are human beings, not livestock. How dare they?” Another girl peeks out from under my bunk, her raven hair swirling down her arm. “They are following God’s word,” she says. “Have you read it? Women were made for the happiness of men; it’s very clear in the bible. Adam was unhappy, and so God made him a help meet. That’s us. We are here to help however we can.” “Help the men?” Breanne growls the words. “By letting them torture us? Have you heard the cries from the barn on the hill? Or letting them harvest our bodies as if we are cattle? They have women attached to machines for at least two years. All those women do all day is hang there and produce milk. That’s slavery!” “The men rule over us.” Helen replies, her blue eyes meeting mine. I like my bunk mate. She is a year younger than me. And just like Helen Burns her namesake from Jane Eyre, she is a calming influence, and very smart. “They decide where we fit the best—where we can be the most useful.” “And if the men decide you’re best at being ground into hamburger—” Helen shrugs. “I’m not ugly, so I doubt that would happen.” I tune them out and return my gaze to the rafters. The dildo inside me isn’t so uncomfortable if I stay on my back. The girls go on talking around me, Breanne expressing her outrage over my docile behavior. “She’ll live longer,” Helen says from beneath me. “But with that attitude, Breanne, you might find yourself at the torture barn.” The torture barn. My innards writhe at the thought, for like everyone else I hear stories. Some men like happy things to do with women, appreciating the beauty of our form, or even our taste alongside beans and potatoes. But not all men have the same needs. The torture barn caters to a gentlemen’s club, and the unfortunate girls carted off into the forest are never again seen. But they are heard. Late at night if I happen to wake, I can catch the sounds of the far-off screaming. Not all the girls cry out. But when they do, the terrifying cries echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts for days to come. *** I hear the bell for dinner and jump from my bunk, wincing as the dildo bruises me inside. The food is good here. They feed us as though we are prized pigs. Everything is organic and healthy—superfoods to keep us tasty if or when they decide to harvest our meat. I attack my meal with gusto as I do every night. It is a plate of peeled carrots, topped with chickpeas, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and hemp hearts. Added to the mix is ginger powder, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and nutritious yeast. It is delicious and I eat every forkful, washing it down with a glass of iced mushroom coffee. Doctor Burns appears behind our tables and saunters slowly, his hands behind his back, to the dais up front. The boys from the camp appear in his wake, each carrying a chair that they place beside our tables. The doctor plugs in the microphone at the back of the dais, then gives it a tap to call the room to order. “Pete Jennings,” he calls in his ringing voice. “Has your girl finished her dinner?” Pete stands slowly and glances my way. “She has, Dr. Burns.” “Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “Bring her forward along with your tools.” I tense as I stand, the skin prickling behind my neck. The doctor continues to address the entire room. “This boy performs in ways that outstrips some of our best full-time trainers; hence I have asked him to stay on as part of our staff. I thought it might benefit the rest of you boys to observe his techniques. Peter,” the doctor gestures to the table being wheeled onto the dais. “Do you have everything you need for a demonstration of your skills?” Peter frowns at me as I step to his side, then turning his body in such a way as to hide his right hand, he passes me the little pill to help me relax. I turn away, gulping it down quickly as I climb shakily onto the table. He gestures me onto my back, then nods toward the doctor. “What now, Sir?” The doctor seats himself in front of our tables. “Pretend we’re not here. Consider this another session. Business as usual.” I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Pete’s hands are on my breasts, kneading them firmly. He pauses as he works, leaning over to finger my clit. I breathe deeply, a wave of fatigue creeping down my limbs. Pete takes his time with my breasts, his fingers digging through the tissue to find my muscles. “Why do that?” One boy calls from the left side of the room. When Pete fails to respond, the doctor speaks for him. “It gets her juices flowing. You should be doing this, too—all of you. A lot of men still get off on the breasts. Better to have our girls ready for whatever comes.” I float with the effects of the drug, my legs raising up as Pete slides them into the stirrups. He lifts me to the point that I feel a breeze between my buttocks and the cushion I am on. The design of this table is alien to me, appearing to have been created for this purpose. It has a light that Pete switches on to shine between my legs, fully illuminating my groin. He loosens my belt deftly and slides out the dripping dildo, setting it aside on the bench beside the table. His fingers glide up inside me, two and then three, turning slowly as he applies a slight pressure. He takes his time, bending low to explore my interior and gaping me as he has done before. He adds lube to his hand, then twists in effortlessly, his elbow turning this way and that as he expands my interior. I let my head droop to the side, feeling the drool running down my cheek. The fisting continues for what seems like forever. Pete glides slowly in and out, focusing fully on his objective. His fingers form a fist at my core, his knuckles rubbing against my cervix. Then he draws out his hand with a squelching sound, his fingers glistening. “If she was a year older, he could double it now,” the doctor says. “Have any of you boys gotten to that part in your books?” A few raise their hands. Smiling, Peter glances at his fellow campers hurrying to gather around the table. “She’s not fighting you at all,” one observes, staring down. A boy moves next to Pete, his fingers reaching in to spread my folds back, making the entry and exit of Pete’s hand more visible in the light. A few boys trade places with Pete, their hands penetrating me as Pete’s had done, so smoothly I barely notice. I am aware of hands holding my buttocks, lifting my pelvis even higher. Pete’s arm is in me again, the elbow rising and falling, the wet sounds filling my ears. “She’s a good girl,” Pete said. He is rotating his fisting hand carefully, massaging my sore interior. *** That night I sleep without the dildo. It is Pete’s idea, since I worked so hard today. I watch a girl braid Breanne’s hair as sleep eludes me. The girls are the rebels in our group, but tonight they seem subdued, as if Diane’s threat of the torture barn still lingered in their heads. Horror stories abounded of the torture barn. No death was easy there. “If we’re dead, we can’t fight back,” I hear one of the girls say. “We can’t resist them,” whispers the other. “Christianity has taken this country completely. It’s worse than Afghanistan now.” “I don’t know about that,” Breanne says. “They’re probably just as bad. They don’t have red meat, either, right? And real men can’t live without it. Show me a man who’s vegan and I will bet you my last penny he’s gay.” Pete eats meat, I think as I drift off, dreaming obscurely of men wearing dresses and swimming in the tank with mermaid tails. *** The new day brings a blast of chilled air onto my face as I jerk awake. The barn doors are open, the bell ringing us girls to breakfast. I stop absently for my shot as I leave the barn, then trot naked, the third in a long line of sleepy nude bodies. The boys and men pause grinning to watch us, and I avoid their eyes as a proper girl should. Our breakfast is oatmeal, with raisins and honey. Once again it is the best oats money could buy—seeded organic oats with fresh moist raisins. We top this with cold milk and drink it down with mushroom coffee. Dessert is an orange, thin skinned and bursting with juice. *** I sink into the water of the tank and breast-stroke to the other side. Watching me, Pete frowns. “What have I said about shaking loose first?” He crouches beside the pool and I swim to a stop below him. “Your muscles support your breasts,” he said. “But they are separate. To be a swimmer your breasts must move freely with the water. They cannot be tethered to your muscles. Now go on; assume the position.” I nod and reach downward with my arms, my legs beneath me as I pretend to crawl on my hands and knees. I hold my arms away from my body and jerk my knees forward and back, the motion of the water catching my breasts, dragging them to and fro. I double my speed until my breasts are flopping back and forth. Then I change my movement, scissor kicking my legs to make my flesh jerk upward and down. Pete is nodding above me. “It’s good practice letting them hang. This is the position the milkers take. The breasts dangle from your ribcage, the weight of the milk drawn away from the rest of your body. Used to be a girl could produce twenty-five ounces to thirty ounces daily. That was three years ago. Now most of our women pump out fifty ounces per day, with some coming close to a half gallon. The eventual goal is a whole gallon. A carton’s worth per woman. And who knows? With drugs they might pull it off.” I flip onto my back and swim where Pete can see, the tissue over my ribcage bobbing easily in the water—rippling with the waves. I turn back, pivoting toward Pete. I start when I find him treading water beside me in his loose red swim trunks. “All girls become milkers eventually. You need to get used to it.” He turns me in the water, then grasps my nearest breast and pulls it downward, squeezing it hard. “Being handled by men, I mean. Once you are a swimmer, you’ll be given the Somatotropin to help your breasts grow. Milkers get huge, you know, which is why they hang from slings. They cannot walk anymore. Or at least not far. Which is why we need to make your muscles stronger for all the weight you’ll support one day. Here,” he says, and hands me over a pool noodle. Seeing my confusion, he gestures. “Tuck it under your arms so it supports you from behind. I’m going to try something new before you swim.” Mystified, I obey, and Pete pushes at me until my head bumps the wall. “Hold onto the ladder. I don’t want you drifting.” I grip the rungs, and lay back. My breasts float and point skyward, jiggling under the sun. Pete turns my body, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand—then twists his other into the softness between my legs. I tense at the coolness of the water entering me. Pete works his hand inside me, the lube making a patch of oil on the water under his chin. “Spread your legs wide. I can’t do it for you.” I obey as best as I can. The arm pushes in past the wrist, and turns, and I shiver at the water that is sucked in with it, a chillness he pushes deeper before drawing his hand out. He catches one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. Then he fists me steadily, the water entering me again. “A good washing after yesterday,” he says with a grin. “Does this feel good?” “Yes,” I gasp, eyeing the white haze forming about me, my fluids snaking around us both. “I thought it would ease some of the burning. All that work yesterday.” I recline as far as I can, my one leg bobbing in the tank’s current. With every stroke, Pete angles his wrist deliberately to invite more water in, the coolness filling my depths along with his hand, easing the heat I didn’t realize I had.” “You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete croons as he works. “I’m giving you the rest of today off after your swim. Keep the dildo inside you if you can. Even when you’re not in bed and walking around. We need to keep your body open until the men want it —teach it to be accessible at all times, like I’ve said. Most men want to fist, but rarely want to do the work. Do you remember what is most important?” I nod. “Pleasing the man.” “Or men,” Pete corrects me. “Sometimes there’ll be men. No matter what they do, or how roughly they do it, you need to always look for ways to please—however they want you to.” “What if they want to kill me?” There is a strained pause. Pete stops his hand, his knuckles gently massaging my cervix. “That, too,” he says finally. “A woman with uses is a woman fulfilled. If they kill you for their pleasure, then your life has not been wasted. You’ll be processed into meat and you’ll serve a second purpose—to fill their bellies. Not many women get to have multiple ways to find meaning for their life. That’s why the girls who go up the hill are the luckiest of all.” I gape at him. “But they’re tortured!” He sighs, and his hand resumes its work. “It’s just foreplay, Dani. Just a different kind. Those women pleasure the men first, and then feed them. Compare that to an ugly girl who gets carted off from her home, never to be seen again. She serves one purpose only. Just one. Do you think she’ll be remembered for that? No. But you will, and so will the girls on the hill. You represent a pleasant memory for a man. Or perhaps for many men. Isn’t that lucky?” I nod, genuinely believing it after he puts it that way. But Pete is not finished. He wrinkles his brow, as if trying to remember words he had read. “God created men,” he recites slowly. “We are his creations, and in following our creator’s example, we made women from our rib. You are created from men. We are your gods. Don’t you want to please us?” I raise my leg from his shoulder in response and cock it high over my chest. Pete, grinning approvingly, turns slightly to drive in his fist. “So . . . it’s a good thing to go up the hill?” Pete pats my hip. “All women die young,” he says gently. “Seems to me the more useful the death, the better. The men in that club aren’t so bad. They simply have different tastes than other men. I’ve heard it said that their methods are creative, but for the woman there is always a lot of pain. I think you should try to be like your sister. In a year or two your breasts will be strong and big. You will bring lots of pleasure to the men who visit us here. It’s a good club. Even when you enter your last phase and become a milker—you’ll see. I hear they even have movie nights for the dairy girls. Useful. The word echoes in my ears as I stare beyond the buildings. I go the rest of the day with the dildo inside me. I have the belt around my waist to hold it in, and I have to be careful when I sit on the bench for dinner. I can feel my fluids leaking onto the seat—a trickle I try discreetly to wipe with my hands. *** The next day I wake early and tiptoe out to greet the sun. The road into the foothills has mist covering its base. During the night I had roused to the familiar sound of the old truck’s engine. A girl had been taken up to the barn in the hills. All night I had stayed awake listening for sounds of screaming. But this death had been a silent one. I ask Pete about it during my swim. He sits on a chair working on his computer. He is a junior in High School, and though he is at camp, he still has several projects he needs to finish before the fall quarter begins. “Oh, did they?” Pete glances at the forest behind our heads. “I didn’t hear it. But your barn is closer to the road than our cabins. “Did they give her something?” I asked. “Like you give me?” Pete shakes his head. His blue eyes are fierce as he glares at his computer. “Drugs taint the meat, so no they wouldn’t. They just haven’t . . . done her yet. They might be collecting several girls for something. They do that, you know. Work on more than one per night. If it’s a weekend thing they usually have a barbeque after. They do if it’s sunny, that is.” I lick my lips, punching the water rapidly with both fists. Pete glances down at my jiggling breasts and grins. “Does this really make them grow?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. Pete laughs. “Nah. I just read a lot so I can sound smarter than I am, and some of this stuff I make up as I go. But it does make sense. Weight lifting makes muscles bigger. Whether or not it makes your tits grow, who knows? But I do know they’ll end up huge eventually. Your owners will see to it in their quest for more milk. I’m surprised you’re not getting the shots yet.” I nod, and hearing the chime of the clock go off, climb shakily up the ladder. I stand beside Pete, water sluicing down my legs. He gestures approvingly at the dildo still strapped inside my body. “Good girl, Dani. Way to take the initiative.” “You said I needed to open easily.” He stands and sets down his laptop. Taking me by the shoulders, he stares into my face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You do want to please.” Tears burn in my eyes. “More than anything. I want to do what’s right,” I manage. “I thought God created women, too. That’s what my mother said. But—” He was emphatically shaking his head. “I know better now, Pete. And I’m sorry if I ever angered you or did anything disrespectful.” “Hush now; you’re fine.” He smiles at me, genuine affection on his handsome face. “Come, let’s get you on your table.” I follow him into the grooming room with its black and white checked floor and big basin sink. There are six tables in a row. What had once been chiropractic tables had been modified so a girl could lay face-down on her belly with her breasts poking through. I settle myself, hearing the squirt of oil from a bottle beneath me. Pete massages the liquid onto my cooled skin. My breasts follow his touch like magnets, the nipples clinging to his hands as if begging for more. He kneads deeply for a time and pulls, sliding the nipples between his fingers. “I do think you’re bigger. Not as big as your sister yet, but there’s definitely some heft here.” He cradles each breast—testing their weight. “How old are you?” I think about my birthday. “What month is it?” I ask. “It’s August,” he said. “August third.” “My birthday was July 31st,” I tell him. “I’m fifteen now.” “Fifteen. So, we’re now just a year apart in our ages.” He reaches up over the table and presses my back hard against the mat. “Strain down to me,” he commands. “Fill my hands.” I obey, turning my head to press my cheek into the bed. He grasps each breast one at a time between his hands and tugs downward, the contours of his palms grinding into my tissue. Then he presses up through the flesh, his fingers massaging my muscles. “I do get some kind of shots,” I tell him finally. “They’re just vitamins though. That’s what they tell us in the barn. Do you think—” “No, that’s either the Somatotropin for humans I told you about, or something like it.” His heavy breathing pauses beneath me, his knuckles grinding into my breast. “I’m glad they’ve started you on it early. You’ll get big very soon. Bigger than your sister, probably. You should see the ones in the milk barn. They’re actually kind of ugly,” he muses, “by the time they get so big. The slings keep the girls from having to see how bloated they are. And their nipples are as fat as this or bigger!” He brandishes his thumb. “All purple and swollen. As long as my thumb, too!” Sighing, I close my eyes. The knuckles are mashing into my tissue, my own nipples growing sensitive and hard. I feel the fluid welling again around the dildo. It dribbles onto the table, dripping to Pete’s head. “God, you’re wet! Here.” Rising to his feet, he reaches around my waist to release the dildo. It jettisons out with a rush of warmth to land with a thump on the floor. “Nice!” Pete exclaims. “See Dani, this is exactly what the men want to see. A female dripping and ready for work, begging to be opened inside. Here.” He raises the table to his waist. Then standing beside me, slides one whole hand in past his wrist. “Oh!” he exclaims. “Look at you!” Delighted, he moves between my legs, cocking my knees up until my toes touch my rump. With gusto he fists hard into my depths. Then grinning, he shows me his hand, the pale liquid dripping. “Should we try to double fist?” he asks as he resumes. “You’re fifteen now. I bet you’re ready. You’re certainly wet enough.” I draw a deep breath, eyeing his hands. “If you think I can.” “Absolutely.” He reaches into his pocket, then hands me a pill. I quickly shake my head. “I want to feel it as much as I can,” I told him. “I like how it feels. Please, I’ll relax.” He studies me briefly, then again takes position. I feel his hand gliding in deep, then slowly withdraw as more fingers hug his wrist. “Dani, I want you to think about opening yourself,” he says. He enters cautiously, the new fingers forming into the palm of his fist, sliding gradually in as he twists. The skin around the entrance to my cunt springs tight, painful to the point of tearing. I feel his every movement, each tiny adjustment making me hiss. “Easy,” he urges. I breathe deeply as I fight to relax, imagining the mouth of my opening yawning wide to meet him. I feel a sudden stabbing pain just inside my vagina, and then another on the opposite side. I have the sensation of being poked three more times around my entrance, but there is numbness now. “Just a little novocaine,” Pete is saying. “There, that should help” I feel the twisting continue, the pressure deeper now, as if the tightness at my threshold has ceased to exist. The hardness of his hands is rotating slowly, sinking down into my core. There is a sucking resistance as he pulls his hands outward, and I gasp in pain. Then I feel a pricking deep inside, and spot one of his hands between my legs. He is holding a syringe with a very long needle—guiding it carefully in. Another prick I barely feel, followed by another further in. “I know we’re cheating,” he says. “But I want this done right.” Once again his hands penetrate my body, the walls of my numbed flesh yielding. He groans in delight, his entwined hands twisting hard and fast to loosen me up. “Let’s get you soft while the novocaine lasts,” he mutters. “I didn’t give you very much.” His body rocks as he fists; he is grunting softly in his throat. “You’re doing so good,” he says, and before I can react, he plunges again, twisting eagerly to reach my cervix. Then he is out, and back in, his hands glistening. He pauses to turn me onto my side. “Can you hold your left foot over your head?” I obey, holding my leg as far forward and up as I can. He cocks back my right leg with his knee, then drives into me steadily, his two hands as one gliding effortlessly in and out. Fluids are trickling down my right thigh as I writhe on the table. I am starting to feel it, the wide-open stretch and the massage deep within. He pulls out as my fluids gush, then wipes his face with his arm briefly before resuming his work. With my hypersensitive skin it feels incredible, every nerve on fire as his hands punch deep. The sound of my wetness is loud in the grooming room. The world is spinning around me. And still the pounding continues, the sliding of my body up and down on the table. I pass out at some point, yet dimly I am aware of Pete turning me onto my back, raising my knees to secure them to the rings above the bed. My legs are opened and tied, so widely spread I can feel the tendons at my groin stretching. His two hands enter me again, alternating one and then the other, the hands inside no longer entwined, one sliding in as the other glides out. It goes on like that for what seems like hours, but then, abruptly, it stops. I feel Pete’s hands stretching the entrance of my pussy, pausing just inside and pulling me apart. “What are you doing?” I mumble. “I’m gaping you,” he tells me. “Something else men like to do. To see inside after they work. I can see very clearly inside you, Dani. You’ve done very well today.” I feel my face flame hot. “Do I have to be a milker?” He pats my thigh, then opens me wider as he bends for a long look. “Don’t be embarrassed now. Pleasing the man, remember?” I nod, breathing deeply. “Dani, milkers live two years longer at least. Don’t you want that? You’ll get to have a baby, too. If you’re really lucky, it’ll be a boy!” “But I won’t get to raise him. They’ll take him away.” “Girls cannot be trusted with such important work,” he agrees. “The church raises babies for you now. Besides, you’ll be too busy providing milk. For him, and everyone else. Girl’s milk goes into everything, you know. You drank some this morning.” “I don’t want purple nipples,” I pout. I glare at the ceiling, feeling Pete’s hands deep within me, the entwined fingers holding still, as if feeling my body’s pulse. “You won’t see them,” he says. “The breasts hang out of your sight, with bracers to support the weight. You forget they’re there after a while, or so I’ve been told by a reliable source. But think of it, Dani. All the healthiest food you can possibly eat. And movies! You get to watch movies!” I close my eyes. The hands are turning within me, pressing me out. “If I don’t become a milker,” I venture to say. “What then?” He sighs and the hands stop. “Well,” he says slowly, “if it turns out you can’t have a baby, you’d come to the end of your journey, wouldn’t you? They’d either take you up the hill to entertain those men, or you’d go to the processing plant, which is much more likely. I haven’t seen how it’s done, but I’ve heard there’s some kind of machine that does it really quick. You wouldn’t even feel it.” I lick my lips. His hands are moving again, gliding slowly in and out. I try to relax despite my raised hips and widely spread legs. He is fisting me with his hands entwined, pumping me vigorously with loud squelching sounds. I am drifting again, my feet going numb from the straps under my knees. I see two men enter the grooming room and stop to watch Pete work. They are talking in low murmurs, their voices appreciative—praising his efforts. One shines a light in when Pete stops to gape me, the two faces rapt as they peer between my legs. My guts squirm as the men take their time, scrutinizing my interior and taking pictures as they talk to Pete. “Have you done anal yet?” The taller man asks. “Yeh,” his companion says, leaning down so I see his face. “First, why not tell her everything, boy? We work at the plant, little Miss. Wanna hear how it’ll go down? A knock on the side of your head to stun you first, see?” He taps his temple. “Then we’ll pop you into the D, D and D device. As in decapitate, dismember, and disembowel. All done by one machine. Thwack, thwack, thwack it goes, and It’s very quick, as your coach boy says. Then someone like old Jake here will get to wash out your torso and cut it in half, then a quick acid dip to loosen breast tissue and skin. And then what, Jake? Scraping, the stamp on the rump, and then the freezer?” Jake’s mouth twitched. “Something like that. But it’s one big chunk, not three. The head and limbs come off simultaneously.” He stares at Pete. “I hear you’re talented, boy. I want to see your hand up her ass.” “Not yet,” says Pete tightly. “One new thing at a time. I’ve been vagina fisting her for two straight hours and my hands are tired. I had to numb her up to get two inside. I’ve had enough for one day.” “Then there was the time the machine wasn’t calibrated right,” the shorter man says. He leers at me, waggling his eyebrows. “Cut her head cleanly in half—it was something to see, I’ll tell you.” “We’ll come back tomorrow to watch,” the man called Jake says. “We’re not allowed to work on these girls. We only ever see them in pieces.” Pete clears his throat. “It’s a date. Though I warn you gentlemen, I doubt I’ll get my hand in. She’s never done anal before.” The two men start for the door. “Oh, you’ll get it in,” the shorter man calls. “We won’t leave tomorrow so easily as today.” I lay still as the door clicks shut. The cold air wafts between my legs, my fluids chilling my naked skin. Pete is squirting something soothing inside me, using one hand to push it deep. He wipes my exterior with a warm washcloth, clicking his tongue as he releases my legs. “What did I say is most important,” he asks. I try to swallow. “Pleasing the men.” He takes my hand and helps me sit up. “Exactly, Dani. Pleasing men. Those men in particular are very dangerous. There’s nothing I can do; as men they have the right to watch. So, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. Do you know what anal is?” I draw a quick shaky breath. “A kind of fisting?” “Yes.” Pete sets a pillow on the table, then gestures me onto my stomach. He raises my hips from behind, moving the pillow until it elevates my pelvis. “Only from the back. From here.” He taps my rosebud, as my mother once called it, the one private place I still have. “This is another thing a lot of men like. In fact . . .” Pete slathers on a thick lubricant, using one finger to poke some in. “Men like to see both holes fisted at once. A girl being fully utilized. If they could, they’d stick their penises in your mouth, too. But that kind of thing’s not allowed at this club.” I accept the drug Pete gives me. Laying on my stomach, I wait as Pete stands beside me. Gradually I feel the weight of my head compressing my cheek on the table. I am drawing deep breaths, sinking rapidly into slumber. Vaguely I am aware of pain as my anus stretches, feeling oddly embarrassed like I’m going to the bathroom. I feel a hard object at first, something small graduating to big, making a pumping noise beside my head. The object is turning within me, straining my anus at different angles. Then it is gone and I feel Pete’s fingers. Motionless, I try to sleep, relaxing my body as much as I can. The fingers twist slowly in and out. Then there is the object again, with more pumping sounds and the pain of stretching. Now it is Pete’s whole hand working its way in. Fingers are gaping me from behind, then the hand Is pushing inward, slimy with lube. Pete is inside me now, his hand a firm pressure as my tissues guide his way. He leans into me as he turns his arm. I feel the ball of his fist pressing my innards. His other hand enters my vagina, and begins to fist very gently. Groggily I splay my legs, lifting one from behind to give him room. “You still in here?” A boy asked from the doorway. “It’s past dinner time, you know. I saved you a hot dog.” Pete pauses in his work, breathing hard. “Trent. Can you help me with something?” “Sure!” The larger boy hurries to the table. I am aware but not aware, drool soaking the table under my cheek. “We have a problem. You can’t tell anyone, promise?” “Promise!” Trent exclaims. “What do you want me to do?” I blink, feeling the hand in my rectum slowly draw out. “Have you done anal?” Pete asks. “Not yet.” “Let me see your hand.” Another pause. “Good, we’re about the same size. Now cover your arm with lube to the elbow. Ease it in, like you saw me doing. Don’t force it. Let her body tell you what to do.” “Oh God!” Trent groaned, as I feel the hand sliding in. “How far does it go?” “You’ll feel a soft resistance; once you do, explore around a bit. Go in as deep as you can.” “So what’s the problem?” Trent leans against my buttocks. His fingers are open inside, stroking my interior as he feels his way. “Two men are coming tomorrow and they want to see anal on her. I figured it would be better to practice first. Lift her leg with your free hand. Pull the foot behind you and up.” I feel Pete’s hands at the mouth of my cunt again, the two hands twisting themselves in. The skin is tight—painful to the point of tearing. “Easy,” Pete whispers to me. “Dani, relax!” I try to sleep, to let the drug carry me back down. Three hands are inside me now, moving and twisting within. “Three!” Trent exclaimed. “Wait, let me get my phone.” There is a pause as the larger boy makes his video. “Look at this! We’re at camp and he’s double fisting?” Pete is pumping steadily now, the two hands entering my drugged body easily as I come and go from awareness. This lasts for some time, the double fisting below Trent’s deeply imbedded hand. “Do you have a light?” Pete asked abruptly. “Oh good. Dani, we’re going to try this again.” I nodded groggily as the arms inside me slowly retreat. “Gonna gape?” Trent asked. “Absolutely. Here, if I stretch the sides, can you get a few fingers in to press out the bottom? Just . . . that’s it. Straight down—firmly. Now hold.” There was a click, followed by sounds of amazement. “That’s great! I’ve never seen that before.” “That’s her cervix.” I hear a few more clicks, and then the fingers release. “I want copies of those,” Pete says. “You got it. Ready for your hotdog? I put it in foil so it should still be warm.” I am laying where the boys leave me, the two of them sitting on a bench as Pete eats. My stomach twists as I think of the ingredients. “These are actually better for you than the old pork variety,” Trent is saying. “At least with girl meat there’s nothing disgusted added. Besides, pigs were smart. It was pretty terrible that we killed them for food.” “Nope, just girl.” Pete makes a face as he stares at his food. “This makes us cannibals, you know?” Trent shrugs his broad shoulders and grins at me. “If it was made out of men, then maybe that’d be true. But what’s wrong with cannibalism? Pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that condones eating your children. Besides,” He gives me a wink. “Don’t forget what women are for. To be our help-meets. Get it? Help MEATS?” Pete rolls his eyes. “You ok there, Dani? Want some food?” “Sure she does.” Trent approaches my table. “Here, let’s clean you up first.” I submit as the larger boy washes between my legs with the now soiled cloth. “There.” He helps me sit up, and I shakily climb off the table. “Hungry?” I glance dubiously at the bag on the bench and nod. “Good, because I brought something from the kitchen for you. They were very clear on the matter that this is for you.” He lifts out a cardboard box and hands it to me. Opening it, I find a large serving of wild rice, broccoli and buttered pinto beans. I stare at the yellow grease congealing beneath the veggies, visualizing the girls hanging from slings in the dairy. “Thank you,” I say, and accept the wooden spoon he hands over. “Besides,” Trent continues to Pete. “We were all going to die from overpopulation. This way only half of us live beyond twenty-two. And the other half . . .” He pats my arm. “We have all the food we need for a very long time. You know they had us eating cockroaches before the pandemic. Alternative foods—it’s not like it’s a new concept.” The rice and beans are good, despite the fact they are now at room temperature. I clean out the box, and even eat the biscuit Peter hands to me. I hesitate at the milk carton and straw Pete passes to me next, eyeing the image of a cow on the front. It is whole milk, and I know very well that it does not come from cows. “Go on,” laughs Pete. “You’ve had it before. What’s the difference?” I take a sip and savor the sweetness on my tongue and the rich creamy texture. “This is actually better for us by far,” Trent is saying. “Cow’s milk was meant for baby cows, not humans. This is one hundred percent for us!” Drinking deeply, I empty the carton as both boys watch. “Like it?” Trent inquires. “Um, yes, actually.” I am staring at the carton. Ingredients: Pasteurized Girl Milk. Girl, I think to myself. Because none of us get to be women anymore. *** I follow Pete to my barn just as the lights are about to go off. “Get in bed,” the head girl commands with a glower at Pete. Pete turns me where I stand. “Keep both dildos in,” he says in a firm voice. “The one in the back comes out only if you have to go, understand? You have a very big day tomorrow. Get some rest.” I squirm uncomfortably and nod. Climbing into my bunk I finally find a comfortable position on my left side. The lights go out, leaving me sore and alone in the darkness. The dildo in my vagina is twice as large as the first, and it almost feels like the two chunks of latex are touching each other. With the one in my rectum, I feel constantly like I have to go. It is only when my stomach cramps that I run to the toilet. “Where were you at dinner?” Helen’s voice floats up from below as I return to my bunk. “Getting stuffed,” I snap, and screw my eyes shut. *** When morning comes I find I can’t eat, and must choke my oatmeal down under the head girl’s stern eyes. The milk for our oatmeal is from hemp hearts, I realize, recognizing its frothy texture and nutty taste. I leave for the gym after breakfast, but find Pete stepping in my path cutting me off. “No, he says sternly. “Today is about making you ready for those men from the plant tonight. And I am betting there will be more than just the two. Come on.” I trot naked at his heels, bypassing the tank and the gym and going at once into the grooming barn. He gestures me to the table and onto my stomach. I comply, and tense as he removes both my dildos. “Very good,” he says approvingly. “We’re not going to fist right now, because I know you’re very sore. But a few things.” He inserts a large needleless syringe into my vagina and I feel a coolness flooding my body. “This will help you feel better,” he tells me. “It will keep you numb for the next fifteen hours. Trust me, you will not be hurting tonight.” I heave a sigh of relief as he repeats the process with my anus, inserting the fluid deep into my rectum. I am smiling as I lay there, oblivious to the stretches Pete is putting me through. He starts with several bottles, each progressively larger than the first, though for the life of me I can’t exactly say which orifice each bottle is for. We work for about an hour, with me lying still and Pete standing beside me, both of us waiting for my body to adjust. “You’ll do just fine tonight,” he tells me. “These men just want something different, that’s all. They get tired of only seeing the dark side of our new society. They want to enjoy some of the benefits. I can understand that.” “Somebody has to do what they do,” I hear myself mutter. He looks at me sharply. “That’s exactly right, Dani. These men do the dirty work to keep the rest of us from going extinct, including you girls. Men cannot survive without these resources you provide us. It’s a hard fact, and one we must live with.” “Do you think . . .” I hesitate. “Your God is punishing you for letting women be equals?” Pete taps his fingers on my head. “Could be,” he muses. “I never thought of that, but maybe so. If we had used you from the start the way God intended . . .” his voice trailed off. “Could be . . .” He moves in behind me and slides out the bottles. I am shaky as I stand, my entire pelvis numbed from my belly button down. “Ready for a swim?” he asks, eyeing me. “I think so,” I tell him. I am eager to get to the tank—to swim off my anxiety and fear. The expressions on the faces of those men last night—like they were inspecting raw meat. *** My stomach gurgles loudly in the grooming room as we wait. I sit on the table, my legs swinging back and forth over the side. The table with the light has been brought from the clubhouse, complete with its “hi-lo” stirrups and bright adjustable lamp. Trent stands to the side with his arms crossed. Pete has asked him to assist, and the larger boy agreed. “You’re still a bit numbed now, but you’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Pete tells me quietly. “Please go along, and trust me. These are dangerous men. If they want to kill you for their pleasure, they can. They can even ask me to do it, and I’d have no choice. You are nothing but meat to them. That’s what they see all day long—that’s how they have to be to survive their jobs. If they see you as human . . .” He fidgets uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “Just know . . . whatever I do tonight—I’m trying to save your life." “And act like you enjoy it!” Trent put in. “But I do,” I say, gazing dazedly at his face. The men from the plant are arriving in their cars. I can’t see them because the parking lot is to the back of the building. But I can hear the gravel crunch under the wheels, and then the hurried footsteps. Three men enter and jerk to a stop, surprised to find us waiting. The man I know as Jake motions his friends to gather the chairs stacked high in a dusty corner, placing them in a semicircle behind the table’s bright light. “Are any more coming?” Pete asks. His hands are folded across his chest. Stupidly, I nod, the double dose of pills in my system are kicking in. Jake smirks as he cracks a beer. “Two more. Larry, the fellow you met last night, is one.” As the tall man speaks, the new arrivals appear in the doorway. Both are wearing work clothes from the plant, their white bloodstained shirts untucked. I am staring at the floor as the men join their friends. Trent catches my shoulders. He pulls me back, settling my head on a pillow. Pete raises my thighs, lifting my buttocks off the table as Trent stuffs pillows beneath my hips. My feet are placed in the stirrups and tied, then with mechanical clicks my legs are spread wide, a clamp on each side immobilizing my knees. A rubber device the length and width of a ruler is placed vertically between my labia folds. Pete bends it to the shape of my pelvis, and then turns a knob at its base. The device separates down the middle, and as the two halves widen, the folds of my girlhood are stretched apart and flattened, held in place against my body and out of the way. I close my eyes as the mouth of my cunt is revealed for all to see. Though I am still partially numb from my navel down, still I can feel the anticipating pulse of my tissue under the light. The men lean forward, and one of them points. “My God, she’s wet!” Pete smiles and steps in close. “Dani’s always ready,” he says. “Easy to open and obedient.” He tosses a pillow on the floor and kneels down. Sliding in a few fingers, he stirs my juices slowly as wet sounds fill my ears. He widens his circles, his fingers gliding over the spade shaped contours of my vagina to coat my girlhood, drawing the moisture down to my anus and back up. “Best lube on the planet,” he tells his observers. Slowly then, he inserts his whole hand, twisting slightly as he pushes in. “Would you look at that,” a man exclaims. “No resistance whatsoever!” “I told you she’s easy.” Pete smiles, fisting gently in and out, his action steady and smooth. He adjusts the light so the men can see, fisting casually, languidly, his free hand catching my fluid welling to the surface and spreading it around his wrist. The wet kissing sounds of my tissue yielding to his strokes is pleasant and relaxing to hear. I turn my head, smiling as he works. I feel disembodied, as if I’m levitating from the table as I stare blankly up. Pete pauses to lube both his hands, and I draw a deep breath, exhaling as I feel him twisting two-handed into my exposed and vulnerable cunt. He slides in with a firm push, the mouth of my pussy hugging his wrists. His body rocks forward and back slowly as he pumps me deep. I moan as I feel his hands separating within me. In this position he draws his hands up, pressing my pussy apart as he halfway exits, then holding his hands static, pushes back in. He turns his hands, his knuckles rubbing my cervix as once more he unlocks his fingers and pulls. “Do you see what I’m doing?” Pete asks his rapt audience. “By loosening up my hands or even pushing in opposite directions, I can expand her as I work.” I take deep breaths as Pete sinks widely back down. With every stroke he separates more, pushing hard against my interior. His hands break the surface and holds me stretched, his half-immersed fingers rotating slowly. “And now I can do this,” he says.” Embracing his fist with his other hand, he plunges in hard and snaps out. I am grunting along with his strokes, my thighs trembling above my immobilized knees. Pete is turning his hands as he thrusts, twisting more of my juices to the surface. I watch the clock, feeling dizzy as the pounding draws out, the sound of flesh slapping flesh as he connects and sinks down. Ten minutes, and then twenty, unendingly he thrusts. I feel cool air inside my cunt, my pussy staying open as he exits—too relaxed and stretched to spring back. The fisting continues as the men look on, with some of them leaping forward—eager for a glimpse as Pete stops and gapes me, my vagina yawning for the men to see. He fists me again with even more vigor, the men gathering at his back. “Won’t this destroy her?” one asks as Pete works. Pete laughs. “Naw, girls are made for this. Why do you think she was wet before I started? She knew it was coming and her body was preparing itself. She hungers for this. It’s a well-known fact; the female body yearns to be opened wide. To be prepared for motherhood.” The man looked down at Pete. “You sure know a lot of things.” “He reads,” says Trent with a chuckle. “As in all the time! Mr. Bookworm here.” “I also talk to my girl.” Pete nods at me. “Ask her yourself. Dani, do you enjoy being fisted?” The men wheel toward me, the ones still seated tilting to see my face. I moan and lick my lips, trying to think beyond the pounding. “She’s still too drugged,” Trent says. “I don’t think—” Pete cuts him off. “Dani,” he repeats loudly over my grunts. “Do you want these hands inside you?” I fight to focus on his face. “I . . . “ “Yes?” Pete urges. “Yes!” I gasp. “Yes, I want . . . yes, please!” “There you have it.” Pete parts his hands again as he works, the airy noises from my cunt filling the little room. Again he gapes me, holding me open for the men to see. “Can you try fisting one handed while your friend does that?” The man who was Jake’s partner askes. “So we can see your hand inside?” Pete brightens at this idea and nods to Trent. The larger boy reaches past Pete with both hands, his fingers gripping the bony top of my vagina for leverage while he stretches my lower wall down. Pete adds fingers to press back one side as his fist passes into my gaping cunt. Slowly he fists, his hand and wrist more visible now as it penetrates my body. “Okay, now do behind,” Jake says, licking his lips. “I assume you prepared her for that ahead of time, too?” “You men work hard; we wanted to give you a good show,” Trent replies. He is grinning as he hurries to flip me onto my side. My leg is lifted, held aloft by the rings above the bed. I am scooted down until the lower half of my buttocks extends over the table. My right foot drifts limply to the floor before Trent scoops it up, pushing my knee forward against my chest and securing it with straps to my body. Trent smears lube on his arms while Pete adjusts the light. “Do you want me to start her for you?” he asks, and Trent shakes his head. “No, I got this. It’s pretty easy once you get in.” Pete moves up beside me, catching my closest breast and kneading it hard. I feel Trent probing my anus with his fingers, slipping in fingers one by one. Slowly the hand works itself in, the fingers clamped into a cone shape. I feel the soft give as Trent slides into my rectum all at once, the tissue yielding as he ventures inward. “Nice,” Pete croons gently. “You’re a very good girl, Dani. Open wider for him, will you?” I sigh as the hand sinks into the deepest well at the core of my being. Trent leans his body forward, his knuckles rotating back and forth. Ever so slowly he withdraws his arm, then with a firm solid pressure, thrusts in to his elbow. I lay very still. I had never experienced just the anal by itself. The strokes are long and easy within my half-numbed body, the hand rising shallow toward my anus, then plunging back deep. The gas escaping from around his wrist makes my face burn hot. “Remember what matters,” Pete whispers in my ear. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He moves to crouch beside Trent. The larger boy is standing, using the weight of his body to pump in and out. Pete stirs the fluids of my cunt with his fingers, playing at the edges of my opening, using the lamp to explore it out. He expands it wide with two fingers from each hand, then inserts three as far as he can, reaching in and drawing out. He moistens the pink interior of my opened folds with my juices, then dives back in with four fingers now, turning them slowly within my opening. He stretches the lower wall of my pussy, then plunges deep with his free hand, fisting hard and fast alongside Trent. I am groaning now despite myself, the two hands filling my body. Then Pete clamps his free hand around his wrist, sliding in to my half-numbed cunt with just the slightest pause of resistance. The men are around us now, some taking pictures with their phones. The three hands plunge and retreat, dive in and pull out, my body rocking in time with the rhythm of their thrus pilot Male · Norway. This is the member profile for pilot Before A Midsummer Night's Dream Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so. As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then. I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do? I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them. By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself. As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned. II I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied. My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household. In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it? I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most. This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there. After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it. III Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate. To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have. Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick. Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before. I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her. By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy. People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied. I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall. I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was. I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower. In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid. But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked. My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer. IV I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home. More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling. After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in. During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story. My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me. With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it. V It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open. It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going. People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s. I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off. I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling. I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her. Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day. VI Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively. I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then. I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me. This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them. Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter? There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'. I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again. Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol. But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do. VII I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them. Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem. Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect. VIII I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody. I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that! I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present. I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness. As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run. My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him. IX He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not. As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore. I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him. An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer. I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul. I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves. There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers. What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me. I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it. When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end. X I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit. I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch. I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was. In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did. First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman. My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally. He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes. He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true. I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning. I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good. XI I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on. He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen. My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property. XII The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this. We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle. My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more. I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad? I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart. Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this. XIII We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all. He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside. He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too. I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss. XIV You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it. I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive. I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity? My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed. He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused. He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap. He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime. My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time? It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it. This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly. XV At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly! He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down. In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense. My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking. I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano. I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent. We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic. On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs. My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner. XVI I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in. Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides. I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound? Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said. XVII The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt. Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly. The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night. The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not. Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti threeforfun Male · Palo Alto, United States of America. Searching for one woman (bi or bi-curious) to be a couple with me‚ as we enjoy the company of other women for very sexy and passionate threesomes. I think that sex should be more then just good‚ it should be a mind blowing experience every time. A threesome with 2 women is the most amazing for everyone‚ so much more‚ and better orgasms than just two people. My incredibly hot sexy loved threesomes GF has moved on. I would like to meet a bi/ or bi-curious women to join me for threesomes with other women. You and I will likely lots of have amazing sex together by ourselves‚ we might hang out‚ do fun things on the side (piggy back rides‚ water ballon fights)‚ but will sometimes meet women for drinks and take them to a hotel or my house for absolutely incredible‚ mind blowing‚ ever lasting memory creating sexual adventures. This is not happening all the time‚ maybe 1-2 times a month‚ and if we meet someone we really like then will see them multiple times. No worries‚ I will find the women‚ and you have complete approval rights over who we meet. If you approve them‚ then you speak to them over the phone or on cam to make sure we are real‚ and arrange a meeting. This is what our ad on AFF or CL might look like; We are looking for a passionate‚ bi or bi-curious and sexy woman to join us for an amazing experience. She is bi‚ loves to play with other women and loves to watch him with others. NO jealousy issues‚ no drama. She's a very hot‚ sexy‚ passionate person‚ is 43...5'5"‚ with an incredible body. He's straight‚ attractive‚ successful‚ very open minded and fun‚ 46... 6' 200lbs‚ firm toned athletic‚ very well endowed (magnum XL). We're both professional by day. We're very sexually adventurous‚ experienced‚ both VERY orally talented and have VERY high stamina‚ very clean and disease free. Open for one time thing or something on going. We are very respective of your boundaries. Looking for someone fun‚ fit‚ open minded‚ sane‚ with a naughty side ;) . Lots of pictures to send when we receive yours. You: Good sense of humor with a tinge of sarcasm‚ witty‚ honest‚ very into amazing sex‚ fit‚ open minded‚ sane‚ with a naughty side ;) Me: I am 46 in a younger body and passionate about my kids‚ life‚ sex and my free time. I am 6 feet 200 lbs.‚ do yoga‚ and work out 3 times a week‚ clean and disease free. I love the outdoors‚ have traveled the world‚ lived overseas‚ and built a large non-profit from scratch. I speak in full sentences‚ have lots of stories‚ yearn to overload your senses and mine‚ and love to laugh. I am honest‚ fun‚ adventurous‚ and keep my promises. As you can see I have a large sexual appetite‚ and can't wait to explore my and your limits with you. Thanks for reading‚ I look forward to hearing back soon..... 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. lovetogodeepinside Male · Corona, United States of America. Start by telling you ladies that I am not here for a LTR. There will be no walking on the beaches‚ dining out‚ going to concerts. Also I WILL NOT BE ANYBODY FINANCIAL WINDFALL. .I AM LOOKING TO MEET A WOMEN OR 2 FOR NSA AND BE DISCREET IF POSSIBLE. See I am a very upfront‚ out spoken person who says what he feel as you will find out when you meet me.I am very athletic and in pretty good for my age. Look I do not have six pack abs but they are good. I am no Bradley Cooper/ Brad Pit. You will like my personality and what I bring to the conversation between us. I like sports like football‚ baseball and dirt-bike riding. I have never smoked or did drugs and I am definitely a very clean person on top of that. I do practice safe sex and will always respect a women when it comes to wearing a condom. I do not play games so do not play games with me unless it is sexual I have 2 teenagers (19/15) and they will always come first. I will not jump for a quick fuck. If I meet someone and she gets my blood rising then I will always make time to see her. I Do not like to waste a lot of time messaging/texting back and forth here and there. It is good to start out that way but it is also good to hear the voice behind that person and possible meet them and see how the both of you get along. Chemistry/personality are things that go along together. See I am not going to put my cock picture on here for anyone.. I think it is best to get a smile when you open the package.. If you are looking for a man that has a massive cock (10') or more then go to the next man cause that is not me . What I do have (8') I use it very well in all right places on a women in which I know you will really enjoy. I love a good juicy pussy sitting on my face so I can go deep and stick my thick tongue in. I like a nice set tits in my mouth so I can suck on those nipples when A women is on top. I also like to do a lot activities with my boys like movies‚ baseball‚ golf‚ pool/BBQ. . . It is all nice to put a picture on here to get attention but make sure it is a updated picture of your face if possible... I like to be surprised when I am undressing a women and see what she has to offer . I like to be totally dominant when in the bedroom. If you like what you read and would like to send a message than go ahead but if you want to contact me and talk then go ahead and send me a message I will get back to ASAP. We are adults here lets have fun and enjoy each others company. I like to be very dominant to a women when having sex. I very much like to take control of the situation and man handle you. in the bedroom or wherever we are. Looking For Some Real Fun/NSA Sexual Fun Other Areas, NY (USA) · Men Seeking Women · Hello I am looking for older women around the ages of their late 50's-80's, but also willing to meet younger women between their 20's-40's, for some real sexual fun and NSA sexual activities. I live in the Niagara Falls area and hoping to meet ladies in the area and also, in other areas of Western New York. I want to meet ladies of these ages above becuase I have always had this fantasy about making love to my own mother throughout my life. I would always masturbate whenever I would fantasize about this and it was always wonderful. I am also still a virgin who wants to learn how to make love and also, how to make a lady happy. I would love that any older lady I meet to pretend she's my mother so I can make love to her and learn new things along the way. I enjoy oral sex very much. I also love erotic fiction stories of sons fucking their own mothers, which enhances my fantasies of me doing the same to my own mother. Please respond soon. The sooner you write. The sooner we can meet and let the fun NSA times rool. I will send a picture upon request after I get your message. 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I'm an italian pilot on duty here in Naples I wish to know somebody of the area to know a little be more of the american mindset‚ cultural exchange‚ arrange visit to Italy( Venezia‚ Roma e Firenze) I may meet at Davis Boulevard Starbucks to take a coffee at 7pm Send me a message on this number 9419990815 and I will call you back The Dumb Blonde The Dumb Blonde · Mature · I never understood why women dye their hair blonde when the world typically stereotypes such women as being dumb. This is a story about another such woman. She was walking down the street, I've seen her many times before, but she never approached me. Today was different, today she headed directly to me, we made eye contact, we gave each other friendly smiles, we talked for awhile, then she shot me the most disrespectful question that most modern day typical women ask, "How old are you?" Most guys are dumb enough to answer such a confrontational question, but I simply said, "Sleep with me first and I'll tell you my age". Her jaw dropped and she spat, "Are you a pervert?" I just smiled and said, "The opposite of that is a boring guy that doesn't know how to please a woman. Which guy do you prefer?" She frowned and said, "How old are you?" But I said nothing. She began to turn away, but I gently took her by the hand. She froze. I pulled her to me and kissed her on the lips. She blushed a little and said, "If you were unattractive, I would have already walked away and....". I wouldn't let her finish as my mouth found her mouth again. "Your place or would you rather prefer a hotel?" I asked. She didn't answer right away, so I kissed her again, and gave her bottom lip a friendly bite. She pulled her head back and said quickly, "My place, come on!" and pulled on my arm as we walked quickly down the sidewalk. We made it to an old 1920s 2-story wooden house, she fumbled for the key in her pocket, then opened the door. I followed her inside, she shut and locked the door, and led me upstairs. She had a large king size bed covered with a red cotton blanket and surrounded by red silk curtains. She pulled her hand free of mine, climbed into her bed, looked at me, and said, "Now what?" Instead of answering, I climbed into her bed next to her and started kissing her again, then I trailed off and began kissing down her neck. She slipped her shirt off, I kissed down to her breasts, gently bit the right nipple, and started sucking on it as my hand went down her holey jeans to her throbbing pussy. I licked on the nipple as I started fiercely fingering her. She gasped & moaned and I did the same thing to her other breast as I kept fingering her. She was very wet and I didn't want those juices to go to waste, so I quickly made a trail of kisses that went directly to her throbbing mound. She gasped again as I started to eat her out. My dick was super hard, so I spat some of her pussy juice into my hand, and started jerking. Then she was like, "I'm a squirter. That won't make you mad will it?" I replied, "Of course not. Why would your pleasure make mad?" But the blonde just had a dumb knowing smile on her face. I pulled her up on me and positioned her on my face as I held tightly on to her legs, so she couldn't pull away. She was a squirter alright! I tasted the harsh saltiness of urine rush into my mouth. I didn't swallow this time as I usually do, but gave her a dirty look. "What?!" she exclaimed in a panicked voice. "That wasn't squirting. You pissed in my mouth". I growled. "No. Squirting is pee, you goofball. You didn't know that?" I shook my head and said, "Man you really are a dumb blonde. If you think your orgasm is pee, you need an education". She looked a little shocked, but smiled and said, "What did you have it mind?" I replied, "Go to your bathroom and make sure your bladder is completely empty, then I'll show you what squirting really is!" She began to protest by saying she wouldn't be able to squirt if she did that, but I silenced her, and made her comply with my wishes. She came back into her bed and we did everything all over again, but this time the pleasure was much more intense for her. "Oh god! This tickles so much! Oh my god!" Her body began to thrash and shake uncomfortably, but I held on as hard as I could and ate her pussy with more and more passion as she got closer and closer to orgasm. Then she exploded into my mouth and I was sucking hard as my tongue went wild inside her and I chugged down her love juice. She screamed, "OH GOD! WHAT IS THIS?!! THIS CAN'T BE!! WHAT IS THIS?!!!" I smiled and said, "It's what you call squirting, you dumb blonde". SaintPeteTom Male · Saint Petersburg, United States of America. Hi There: I have reached a point in my life where I am financially secure and have had enough experience with people to keep things vital but not dramatic. I am somewhat successful‚ intelligent with good judgment on most things‚ and at a place emotionally to be devoted to others in terms of settling down. Yes‚ it would be great to meet an open minded woman so we can have great times together‚ someone I can have meaningful conversations with‚ travel‚ dining out and at home‚ shopping‚ watching movies with (I have over 500 on DVDs & home theater)‚ 3 computers on line‚ etc‚ etc. People say‚ that I am great company and easy to talk to‚ as I do not tend to jump to judge people even though I have a PhD in Psychology‚ undergrad degrees in Business Management and another in Electronics Engineering. Oh by the way‚ I have never been married‚ have no children‚ no pets either. Am also involved in the precious metal market‚ real estate & property management. I live in North St. Petersburg‚ Florida‚ (Tampa Bay)‚ I moved from Los Angeles‚ California‚ now have own business‚ own home on 1.35 acres plus rental properties with tenants. I have traveled to about every country in the Orient & South Pacific Islands and I was a CH-46 helicopter pilot in the Marine Corps for 6 years after I gradated from college‚ and I got out as a Captain. I am Catholic‚ a non-smoker‚ zero drugs always‚ social drinker after work sometimes. Anyway‚ if you are interested in learning more‚ let me know and also include some personal information such as where you are located and a way to contact you. Also‚ include a picture of yourself and feel free to contact me. Thanks! Thomas marklocati Male · United States of America. Hi! I'm an italian pilot on duty here in Naples I wish to know somebody of the area to know a little be more of the american mindset‚ cultural exchange‚arrange visit to Italy(Venezia‚ Roma e Firenze) I may meet at Davis Boulevard Starbucks to take a coffee at 7pm Send me a message on this number 9419990815 and I will call you back Miriam Miriam · Fetish · MIRIAM It was the curve of her high-arched foot that first caught my attention. I was sitting in the graduate library trying to digest the impenetrable opacity of Kant's A Critique of Pure Reason for my upcoming Philosophy final exam, when I noticed her foot and quickly lost interest in Kant. I must have been staring at her feet, because she asked, "See anything you like?" I blushed vermillion and looked away, back to Kant, but the words merely danced before my eyes. I gazed back at her and saw her smile at me. I was a twenty-three year old virgin. I'd only gone out on a few dates and had never even kissed a woman. It wasn't that I hadn't any sexual desires. I had an overload of sexual urgings and desires, wants and needs, and was a chronic masturbator, typically masturbating 2-3 times a day. But when it came to asking women out, I was an absolute loser. The dates I had had been on had been set up with by friends or family. None of them lasted more than 2-3 dates before the women would quickly lost interest. When I gazed back at her, she suddenly arose, slipped her bare feet back into her flip-flops, and walked over to me sticking her hand out for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Natalie Goldman. And you are?" I mumbled my name to her and had to repeat it. "Well Jack Simms, nice to meet you." I told her it was very nice to meet her, too. "I'm sick of studying, want to go get something to eat?" She had such a pretty smile. Her black hair set off her olive-skinned face and dark brown eyes in the most captivating way. I realized that I was staring once again. "Sure. Where would you like to go?" She named a local pizza joint and we walked the three blocks there. We ordered a pizza and shared a pitcher of ice cold beer while waiting for our pizza. The place was half-filled with raucous rock and roll and undergrads on the make. Notwithstanding the myriad of conversations sprouting around us, we managed to have a conversation above the din. You know the type of conversation: What's your major? What year are you in? What's your favorite movie? Do you like reading Faulkner? We just clicked. I had never felt so comfortable with a woman. When there was a lull in the conversation, she looked intently at me and asked, "Back in the library, you were staring at my feet, weren't you?" I felt trapped, like beetle that's landed on its back and can't right itself. I blushed, I stammered, I looked away from her. "It's okay, you know. Nothing to be ashamed about." I attempted to respond to her question, but was torn by my humiliation. We continued eating and drinking in silence. After finishing the pizza, she invited me to the apartment that she shared with a roomie, and we had another couple of beers there, continuing our getting to know each other conversation. I realized that I was crazy in love with her as we shared our likes and loves and lives over the next couple of hours. She played a few LP's on her turntable as we sat on large pillows on her hardwood floor. We listened to Stevie Wonder and Al Green, Bill Withers and The Four Tops. I found myself staring at her feet as she sat cross-legged. I would turn away, my face flushed scarlet, only to slowly gaze back at her lovely feet, and see her smiling. This was my secret shame. I had become attracted to women's feet as a little boy, crawling around on the floor of our home, staring at my mother's feet and those of her friends that visited, fascinated by how pretty their feet looked. I had slowly graduated from the attraction stage to sneaking into my mother's closet and sniffing and licking the insoles of her sandals and open-toed mules, and later pulling her stockings out of her clothes hamper and inhaling that vinegary-cheddary scent from her feet that would cause my little penis to stiffen. Later yet, I would sit on her closet floor licking her shoes, sniffing and licking her stockings and panties, and masturbating by shoving my ever stiff cock through the toe hole of her well-worn mules or through the opening of her sandals. Somehow my mind had become cross-wired in such a way that women's feet were an instant sexual turn-on, and seeing women's bare or nylon clad feet was akin to seeing them naked. Every time I indulged in my mother's closet; I would walk away from there swearing that I would never do it again. But my oaths were empty and useless, and I would always return to worship there at her secret altar. Years had passed and my secret had remained hidden, concealed from the world. My own secret shame. But now, here was this very attractive young woman who had realized my secret. Upon her relentless questioning, I admitted that I had been staring at her feet and that I had a thing for women's feet and had since i was a kid. I apologized and moved to get up, thinking that I'd ruined any chance at having a relationship with this beautiful young woman. As I stirred, she reached over with her leg and pushed her left foot against my groin. "Don't go." I felt her grind her foot against my stiffening penis. I sat still feeling the pressure and movement of her foot against my now throbbing erection. Natalie smiled, "What have we here?" She grasped at the bulge with her toes as I shuddered. "Don't tell me that my feet have caused this?" I looked at her and nodded, blushing. "So my feet have that kind of power over you?" Again, I nodded, humiliated, wanting to leave, but unable to move out from under her foot. Natalie led me to her bedroom and after kissing and sniffing and licking her pretty feet, we made love again and again and I was a virgin no more. After that, we became inseparable. I soon proposed to her and she accepted. All of my life’s dreams were coming true. I was head over heels in love and happier than I’d ever dreamed of becoming. I met Natalie’s parents at a dinner celebrating our engagement. Her father was a large quiet man, who barely ever got a word in edge-wise as her mother was very opinionated and domineering. There was no question as to who ran that household. Her mother was brassy and loud and often obnoxious. She was a dead ringer for the late actress Colleen Dewhurst, not beautiful or even pretty, but handsome. Her voice was a bourbon and cigarette smoked croak. Her hair was a reddish-brownish dye job, and her eyes were her daughter's eyes, dark and mysterious. The dinner was held at their cottage and dress was casual. Miriam, my soon to be mother-in-law wore a cotton blouse, shorts and sandals. Her skin was bronzed from having spent so much time in the sun. She had large pendulous breasts and appeared to have put on quite a few pounds over the years. She had a beautiful butt, and thick meaty thighs. Her calves were muscled and her feet were every bit as sexy and shapely as her beautiful daughter's, but in a different way. I found myself mesmerized by them. In a moment alone, Natalie upbraided me for staring at her mother's feet. I apologized, but found myself staring at them again as we sat out on wooden lawn chairs on their deck overlooking the lake, having after-dinner drinks. Miriam wanted to know everything about me and I was inundated with a barage of questions from her. All the while her husband, Dave, stood by like a wooden Indian saying nothing. I noticed that he would refill her drink and asked her if she wanted anything. He doted on her and was quite attentive to her every need, yet she was dismissive of him, and occasionally openly hostile towards him. As we were talking, Miriam told Dave to massage her feet, and Dave dutifully knelt on the patio floor beside her lawn chair and began to knead her feet. Miriam croacked, "And after twenty-five years of marriage, Dave has gotten very good at massaging and pampering my feet. Haven't you, Dave?" Dave nodded in agreement as he continued to massage her sexy feet. "Natalie, does Jake massage your feet for you?" Natalie smiled and said, "Every chance he gets." It was strange hearing her tell her mother that I loved massaging her feet; it felt like a betrayal of sorts. Miriam moaned, "Nothing like a man who knows his place in life." There was a long pause and then Miriam said, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Jake. Natalie tells me that you love to lick her feet and suck her toes." I was stunned, Natalie knew that no one else in the world other than she knew my secret. What could have prompted her to share this secret shame of mine with my mother-in-law? I stared at her not knowing what to say. "Cat got your tongue?" Miriam asked. I watched as Natalie kicked off her flip-flops and stretched her legs until her feet were resting inches from my lips. "Go ahead, baby, show my mother how much you love licking my feet." Miriam was staring relentlessly at us in anticipation. Even Dave had turned his visage away from his wife's feet to see if I would lick his daughter's feet in their presence. When I didn't act, Natalie raised her right foot to my lips and dutifully, I began kissing and licking her right foot, as her left foot rubbed against my crotch. Dave managed a smile. "Looks like Natalie has found herself a foot man like her dad." Miriam slapped him across the face with her foot. "Who asked for your opinion, you moron? Get to it. Lick my feet!" And with that the twilight air was filled by the lapping of the waves of the lake against their seawall, the intermittent cries of seagulls, and the squishy sounds of our tongues licking our women's feet. Miriam smiled. "This is the life, Natalie. Looks to me if Jake is a keeper," before adding, "How well have you trained him?" Natalie responded, "Oh, I think you will find that i have him at my beck and call." Miriam peered at her, "Does he satisfy you sexually?" Natalie laughed, "He has a magical tongue, mom. He can make me cum again and again." I couldn't believe the direction this conversation was taking. But I continued licking Natalie's feet for her, or perhaps I should say, for me. "What about dick-wise?" "Oh, well, you can't have everything," Natalie answered. I was stunned. She'd never complained to me about the size of my penis or my ability to fuck her. Natalie turned to me, "Show mom your dick, baby." My mind was whirling. it was as if I had dropped out of everyday existence and found myself trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone. "Go on, show her." I looked up at Natalie, my eyes begging her to save me from this further humiliation. But she was having none of it. "Now!" I stopped licking her feet, stood up and dropped my khakis to the patio floor. "You're not done yet, mister, drop your Jockeys, too." Sheepishly, I stepped out of my briefs, my cock semi-hard from having licked her feet and from the embarrassment of this humiliation. "Nothing to brag about, that's for sure," Miriam said. "Dave show him yours." Without missing a beat, Dave stood up and dropped his shorts. He was obviously going commando, and his cock slapped up against his gut. His cock was much bigger than mine, thicker, longer, and his balls were huge, like a pair of jumbo sized eggs. "You see, Jake, now that's a cock," Miriam seemed proud of the prodigious size of her husband's penis. "Poor Dave. He doesn't get any attention to his dick. We haven't had sex in years and I only allow him to masturbate once a month or so." I stared at the man's veiny throbbing erection, never having actually seen one that big, at least not in real life. "Perhaps you should get a better look at it, Jake." This was from Natalie. I stared back at her perplexed. "You heard my mom, dad only gets relief once a month, why don't you go over to him and give him some relief." She lifted her foot in the air towards me, and I felt powerless. I reached back over to her and licked and kissed her foot. Natalie said, "Enough of that. Now show dad what a magical tongue you have." I stared at her in disbelief. "You mean you want me to suck his cock?" Before Natalie could answer, Miriam piped in, "That's exactly what she wants, you twit. How can she make it any plainer for you?" Perhaps if I threw on my clothes and bolted for the car, I could escape this madness, get back to the lonely virginal existence that I had before I ever met Natalie. But Natalie became irate at my dawdling; she shot up in a sudden fury, pulled me by my hair and dragged me to her father's feet. "Suck his cock!" she yelled loud enough for the neighbors on both sides of them to hear. I tried to protest but she was pulling my face forward to his bobbing cock and balls. "I want you to lick and suck every inch of his cock, and do it now!" I'd never seen her like this. Sure she was dominant, but rarely in public. In the bedroom it was quite a different story, but I preferred it that way. Dave waited patiently as my lips brushed against the slippery head of his enormous erect cock. He was already dripping pre-cum in anticipation of having his cock sucked for the first time in years. For me this was new. Although sexually submissive and although I had masturbated looking at pictures of guys' cocks, I had never actually sucked one before. I opened my mouth and took his cock in, slipping my tongue and lips around his massive cock head. Miriam bellowed, "Natalie, you have trained him well. Look at him suck your father's cock!" It took only a few minutes of sucking him before he groaned and shot his thick, musky seed into my mouth, coating my tongue and tonsils with his gooey white semen, forcing me to swallow load after load of the stuff. It took a few moments but at last I’d sucked every last drop from his cock and Dave wiped his cock against my mouth before thanking Miriam and returning to his place at her feet. The night ended up with all of us naked in their king-sized bed. I ate Miriam's hairy pussy and lapped at her malodorous hairy asshole, working my tongue deep into her rectal recesses while she clenched and unclenched her anal spincter, squeezing and unsqueezing my tongue. I performed another round of fellatio on Dave and he ended up fucking me as I ate his wife's ass and pussy. Natalie sat and fingered herself to multiple orgasms. By Monday morning, having spent three nights at her family's cottage, Natalie and I drove home to her apartment, she as my mistress and I as her slave. We were married three months later and the chains that bound me to her became ever tighter, ever closer, evermore inescapable. As the years went by, Natalie took a series of lovers, all with larger penises than mine, all better suited at satisfying her sexually. I would lick and suck their cum out of her openings, bringing her to orgasm the only way i could, orally. I orally pleasured Miriam, licking her feet, eating her hairy pussy and licking and sucking her asshole, sometimes meticulously clean and other times quite ripe, my tongue coated with the remnants of her morning shit. I sucked Dave's thick cock and learned to love having him fuck me as Miriam and Natalie reveled in my utter submission. In my moments of solitude, I would think back with wonder that all of this was as a result of that fateful day in the library when the curve of Natalie's arch made me stare at her, winning my lust and my heart in the bargain. Swinging or M F M threesome? General Discussions · Swinging or M F M threesome? · When we started swinging we were in a nudist club where their was a lot of swinging and swapping going on‚ when the wife went with another guy for the first time‚ even though I was not present her first time I had set her up with a friend that I knew she was keen on and had been flirting with for a while (he knew my feelings on it all) hoping it would happen‚ my wife knew she had my full permission to play if she so wanted to‚ “remember it was her first time ever with another guy” a very big step for a 35 year old Catholic woman to take. When it did finally happen we were welcomed into a well established swinging scene with open arms “and legs”‚ Search Light and Ribald which were our local sex contact sex papers were just about our bible at the time where we also met other swingers “and our swinging neighbors through” (another story). After about 5 years swinging with our swinging friends from the nudist club and others we met through the sex papers we had a major personal upset with family that caused us to leave the nudist club and the swinging scene all together‚ “it had nothing to do with sex or swinging at all”. Some 5 years further on things had settled down with our family life and we started dabbling with the thought of playing around again‚ we were older and things had changed from the old days‚ rejoining the nudist club was not an option at the time because of children’s ages and other personal reasons. We started looking at Search Light and Ribald again (things had also changed health wise as far as swinging and casual sex went) all our sex was and still is bare back sex so we were wary as to what sort of people we were meeting which also put a damper on it a lot for us. We had a few total wipe out’s meeting couples which was very frustrating for all concerned‚ and even when we did find a couple we got on OK with it never seemed to last after the initial lust had worn off where the four of us got along long term‚ it had us really thinking was it all worth it? Then we got talking about M F M threesomes‚ which we had a few of when we were swinging the first time around‚ I got off on seeing her going with other guys “and so did she” lol and I just love going silky seconds‚ we had some replies from single guys who had answered our ad’s for swingers trying their luck wanting to meet us so we went through them and picked out some guys that the wife thought she might find a turn on and we started meeting them‚ it was a lot easier meeting just guys I can tell you‚ the wife also surprised me by saying that we were just meeting for sex not a life time commitment (yes just sex not friendship) we decided that as long as she found the guy reasonably attractive and he could hold a conversation why not go ahead with it! We worked a formula out where we would arrange to meet at a local hotel‚ it has a nice quite area (at the time we were meeting guys) where we would meet the guy‚ after some small talk the wife would give me the signal if it was a go or no‚ “they were not many no’s I can tell you as we had vetted them out pretty well before arranging the meeting”‚ and if it was a “YES” then we would invite him back to our place to do the deed‚ if it was all OK then we would invite him back again‚ and if we really hit it off again‚ and again‚ one guy was a regular for over three years. One funny time that comes to mind‚ we had arranged to meet this guy at the usual place‚ he was travelling some distance to meet us‚ just as we were ready to walk out the door our daughter who still lived at home arrived home‚ she had a job where she slept over through the night and did not arrive home until late morning‚ this night she had taken sick and had been sent home. It was too late to contact the guy (this was before mobile phones) so after making sure the daughter was OK we decided to go and meet him‚ explain what had happened‚ and if he was OK to us (and us to him) the next meeting would be at our place. We met him and after the wife had given me the nod that he was OK we explained the situation to him‚ he was disappointed but it could not be helped‚ I went off for a round of drinks and when I returned he was sitting next to my wife very close and I could see his arm was around the wife and his hand was under her top (we were lucky we had the bar to ourselves) I wondered off on some pretext to leave them alone for a couple of minutes and when I returned he had made big steps forward and my wife had her hand under the table and on his lap‚ when it was time to go I left the wife to say good bye to him while I got our car‚ by the time I arrived with the car they were just about doing it in the car park and the wife said they wanted to go some place where the three of us could be alone‚ I knew of a parking place not too far away so we went to it‚ we had a station wagon at the time and they were already going for it by the time I got the seat down‚ the three of us had a good session in the back of the wagon before we were disturbed by another car arriving for the same reason we were there so it was time for us to go‚ he became a long time lover of the wife. I gather this is not your cup of tea kind of sex but it takes all kinds! I really get off on seeing the wife going with other guys (specially the first time) and joining in‚ I have done all the time ever since we first started playing‚ and would still do today if she was still into it‚ the best we do now is going into a chat room where she will come on cam now and then‚ but I guess I cannot complain after almost 50 years being married and playing on and off for 30 of them‚ I know there are a lot of guys out there that wish their wife would play. lovely rita lovely rita · Romance · Lovely Rita Chapter two Rita awoke from a very pleasant dream about one of her imaginary lovers. It reinforced her longing for real love and gave her an empty feeling in her heart. She decided she would go and check out the town in the afternoon‚ but first she wanted to take a walk on the beach and use her new surroundings to the fullest extent she could. She got up and put on her favorite silken panties and bra. She slipped a nice cool sundress over the top of them and then grabbed her sandals. The temperature had already climbed over 80 degrees and the air was quite humid. She grabbed some fruit from the fridge and headed out the back door to the beach. She watched the waves crash into the shoreline and listened to the sounds of the water. There were several birds chirping and a few flying over head. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun beat down on her body. She took her sandals off and waded through the waves. Marveling at the water as it took the sand out from under feet. The water was a little bit cold but it felt very refreshing. Suddenly‚ a Frisbee came flying over the sand dune that bordered one side of the secluded beach. A very large yellow lab followed it. The Frisbee landed at her feet and she picked it up. The dog stopped when she picked it up and began jumping around playfully. Egging her on to throw it to him. She playfully held it out tempting the playful mutt to come and get it. He would inch closer to her and then scurry away. She continued to taunt the dog‚ laughing as he jumped around and rolled on the ground. Waiting impatiently for her to throw his toy. Just as she was getting ready to through it a man walked over the top of the dune. He was tall and looked very physically fit. His lean muscular body was deeply tanned and his light brown hair had streaks of blonde in it from the sun bleaching it. Her heart jumped as the man approached her. She didn't know what to say. He introduced himself as Dave and walked up to take her hand. As he did he pulled it up to his lips and kissed it gently. 'What a gentleman' she thought to herself. 'A very handsome one too' her mind continued‚ 'He will be added to my list of imaginary lovers.' He introduced his pet as Gabby and took the Frisbee form her hand. He sent it sailing down the beach landing in the water at the far end of it. The dog excitedly took off to retrieve it. He asked her name and what she was doing here. He said that he had thought this house was going to be empty for the rest of the month. Rita introduced herself and explained how her boss had given her this vacation at the last minute. He told her that him and the lab lived in the house over the hill. Rita's heart was pounding as she talked with the man. She felt the ache deep inside of herself. The one that she had been trying to satisfy with her toy last night in the Jacuzzi. She felt her panties getting wet as talked and watched him play with his dog. Her vagina twinged every time there eyes made contact. She longed to be held by him. She offered him a drink and they went into her borrowed quarters. The dog stayed out side playing with its Frisbee and chasing the gulls on the beach as they landed. Rita told him to sit down and make himself comfortable. She went to the kitchen and poured them both a glass of white wine. She returned to the living room and handed the glass to him. She felt a shiver as his hand touched hers and goose bumps popped out all over her body. Her new friend went on about how this was the best house on the beach. And the owners were very nice people. He watched as the bumps slowly disappeared from her flesh. Her mind was racing trying to stay calm even though she was being worked up into a frenzy just by the sound of his voice and the way the words flowed from his lips. As they continued to talk‚ he scooted closer to her on the large sofa. He reached out and gently rubbed her arm. Her heart was about to leap out of her chest and she began to breathe heavily. He continued to talk and said that he lived alone. Her mind began to wander when he mentioned being alone. She wanted desperately to resolve that for him. He slid his hand down to hers and grasped it firmly. He gently pulled her closer to himself. Rita wasn't sure what was going on. Her head was drunk with passion. She thought 'I must be imagining this'. As she came towards him‚ he leaned over and lightly kissed her on the lips. Rita was startled at first but couldn't fight what she was feeling. She kissed him back and felt herself melt. Dave reached around and put his hands on her back. He pulled her closer to himself and squeezed her body. Rita began to feel light headed and almost passed out as his lips slid across her cheek. She reached out for him and gave a long‚ sensuous hug back to him. She moaned as his breath passed over her ear. Her heart was pounding‚ forcing her to submit to this stranger. Wanting to feel what she had been deprived of for so long. He kissed her neck as he ran his hands up and down her back. Caressing her flesh with his powerful hands. She could feel the strength in his arms‚ but his touch was so gentle. She imagined a Greek god holding a very fine‚ fragile piece of pottery. Yes‚ this is how she felt. He was her god‚ tanned and sculpted from the most beautiful metal in the world. She ran her hands up and down his back‚ feeling his muscle ripple as he caressed her. He kissed and licked his way to her other ear. His hands drifting farther down her back. Running over the top of her buttocks. She moaned louder. Dave began to tell her what a beautiful woman she was. About how soft her skin was. He told her that the fragrance of it was intoxicating to him. The said he wanted her. He told her that he wanted explore every inch of her body. To kiss her all over and then do it over time and time again. Her breathing turned into more of a pant as he slid his hand around to her front. Cradling her breast. Gently squeezing it‚ and massaging it. He told her had to have her‚ to taste the sweet nectar between her legs. He undid a couple buttons on the front of her dress. He reached in and massaged her breast through the silky material. Telling her that he could hardly tell where the material stopped and her ample bosom began because her skin was so soft and smooth. He reached under her bra. Circling her swollen nipples with his long fingers. She moaned again. Louder and more passionately. Dave took it as a sign to continue. He kissed down the front of her neck‚ down to her cleavage. He undid more of her buttons and kissed her brazier. Leaving tiny wet spots on the delicate fabric. He reached up and slid the garment over her shoulders. She let it fall behind her. He tugged at her bra to reveal one of her protruding nipples. He licked around the areola and then sucked her nipple into his mouth. He nibbled at it gently. Feeling her breathing become more sporadic‚ he reached his hands behind her and undid clasp on her brazier. He heavy breasts fell a little as they were released. Dave grabbed both of them and massaged them. Kissing each on in turn. Licking her erect nipples‚ biting gently to tease them into getting harder if they possibly could. Dave pushed her back gently. Laying her down on the plush sofa. He moved back up to her neck and then kissed her. More passionately than before. His tongue began to search for hers. Meeting it where their lips joined melted together. They circled each other's tongues playfully. Dave continued to massage her breasts. He moved his hands up and down he sides. Threatening to pass the barrier that the waistband of her panties made. Suddenly he stood up. Rita gasped when she saw the huge bulge in his shorts. He took her by the hands and helped her up off of the sofa. Her dress fell to the floor along with her bra. He leaned in and kissed her ear again. He asked her to lead him to the bedroom. She turned and headed up the stairs. Holding his hand leading him as if he was her pet. He watched he walk‚ admiring the way her hips swung and moved playfully under her silk panties. The reached the top of the stairs and Dave spun her around. He kissed her flush on the lips and Rita almost collapsed as her knees began to shake. Never before had she felt so much passion. Never had she been completely taken control of by the simple touch of a man. The fire inside her began to flare up. She reached around and ran her hands down his back. Lightly digging her fingernails into his flesh. Her hands slid past his belt. Feeling his firm buttocks. Pulling him closer to her. Dave could see the bed and began to guide Rita towards it. She stumbled and they both fell onto the huge bed. Dave was above her‚ kissing her neck and lobes. Rubbing his body on hers. Rita pushed him up and grabbed his belt buckle. She hurriedly undid it. She kissed his swollen member through the cotton material. Making it throb with anticipation. She undid his shorts and let them fall to the floor. He didn't have any underwear on and his cock hung before her face. It stuck straight out as if it were pointing at her. She grabbed it and began to rub it slowly. A droplet of clear pre-cum leaked out of its slit. She squeezed and the drop grew. It was about ready to drip off when she stuck out her tongue and licked it up. She moaned deeply. She had forgotten how wonderful it tasted. Dave groaned from deep within his chest as she licked the head of his cock. She pointed his shaft towards the sky and licked up and down the length of it. When her tongue reached the tip of it‚ she slowly took it between her lips. She kissed it softly. Then let it slide in. As it reached the back of her throat she almost gagged. 'God‚ I am out of practice' she thought. She slid her head back and then grasped his prick by the base of his manhood. She slid her hand up to the tip and then back down. Following it with her mouth as she smeared her saliva over his cock. She moaned deeply to give him an even greater sense of pleasure. His cock throbbed hard as she moaned louder. The vibration form her mouth could be felt all the way back to his ass. His body tensed‚ forcing a deep groan out of his throat. His obvious approval made Rita moan harder‚ as she sucked his cock deep into her mouth. She ran her hands up and down his chest. Paying extra attention to his erect nipples. Dave reached down and began to stroke his throbbing penis in rhythm with Rita's head as she slid her loving lips up and down his engorged shaft. She let it slide completely out and began to lick the swollen head as he stood there. Jacking off in front of her. The sight of his beautiful body standing in front of her giving himself pleasure made her pussy begin to leak. She reached down and rubbed her vagina through her silk panties. There was a huge wet spot. It felt as if her juices would start dripping through her panties any minute now. She leaned over and licked the length of his prick again. He held it up so that she could caress the underside of it all the way to his balls. She took one testicle into her mouth and swirled it around with her tongue. He slid his hand down his member then back to the top again. As it slid up she followed it with her tongue. Stopping just below the head and kissing it hard. She sucked on the large vein running along the bottom of his cock into her mouth and ran her head back and forth. Another drop of clear liquid leaked out the tip and dripped onto her cheek. She wiped it off with her finger and sucked it into her mouth. Dave squeezed his cock at the base and then worked his hand towards the tip. He milked another drop to the tip for his new lover. She gladly accepted it with her tongue. He managed to get a couple more drops for her before she took his shat deep into her mouth and began to hum again. The vibrations made his nuts squeeze tight. They almost disappeared as she continued to suck as hard as she could. She knew that any second he was going to reward her with a hot steamy load of cum. She sucked harder and hummed louder. Dave began to thrust his cock deep into her mouth. Squeezing the bottom of his cock to hold off his impending orgasm as long as possible. Finally he couldn't take any more. He let go of his prick and grabbed her by the back of the head. He pushed his cock deep into her mouth. Rita felt the hot sticky fluid flood into her mouth. She wallowed hard and fast‚ trying to catch it all‚ but she couldn't. It began to leak out around his cock from the corners of her mouth. She had forgotten how wonderful it felt to suck a man off. To know that she is giving him one of the most precious gifts she could. Dave's head was thrown back and he yelled to the heavens. Letting them and Rita know how wonderful he felt. He was totally consumed by the orgasm. His body clenched tightly. He felt his penis try to squirt more of its love juice out but he had been drained. He told Rita that he had just received the best blowjob he had ever had. He said she was the best hands down. He pushed her back onto the bed gently and began to kiss her heavy breasts. He ran his hands up and down her body‚ stopping and massaging one breast at a time. He slid his hands down to her waist and began to slide her panties off. He inched them down very slowly. Waiting for his mouth and wondering tongue to catch up with them. As he crossed her belly button with his lips‚ she began to moan. Knowing that a wide array of wonderful sensations awaited her. He kissed down to her mound of pubic hair. Half of it was peeking out over her waistband. He kissed further‚ his lips passing his hands in a heated race of lust. He kissed her firmly on her love button through the silken membrane that hid her woman hood. Rita gasped in a breath as the wave of pleasure raced through her body. Flooding her mind. Dave pulled her panties down over her hips and kissed his way to her feet. Following her panties until they fell to the floor. He then began his journey back to her erogenous zone. Caressing her thighs. Brushing passed her now exposed pussy. He could see beads of her juice forming on her lips. He wanted to hurry and suck in her love potion but he paced him self. Increasing their lust as the anticipation heightened. Finally his traveling mouth and tongue reached their final destination. He paused for a minute looking at her beautiful vagina then up into her eyes. She met his gaze and sparks seemed to zap both of them and they moaned in unison. He smiled at her with a devilishly playful smile and then lowered his head slowly towards her crotch. He slowly licked the droplets from her quivering lips. Inhaling the sweet nectar that her body produced. Her juices were sweet with the innocence that her pussy had endured the past few years. Not having a man touch it for so long. He reached up and caressed her breasts with one hand while his other gently spread her hot wet lips. She reached her first orgasm as he gently kissed her love button. Sucking in her hooded clit and twitching at it with his tongue. She moaned and her hips bucked spontaneously. She too cried towards the sky‚ thanking the angles for finally releasing her from the lustful prison her body had been in and wanting to escape from for so long. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it closer to her convulsing love hole. He buried his tongue deep inside her. Trying to get every drop of fluid that gushed out of her. He moaned trying to give her the same sensation he had felt as she hummed while pleasuring him. Her vaginal walls contracted around his tongue. Trying to squeeze it and suck it deeper inside of her quivering tunnel. As her body rolled down from the peak of her orgasm‚ she released his head form her tight grip. She ran her fingers through his hair‚ encouraging him not to stop yet. He lightly licked her inflamed pussy‚ watching her shake as he passed over the overly sensitive labia and clit. She moaned with satisfaction‚ but they both knew that they were not done. Their passion built as he continued to explore her most private regions. Dave's cock throbbed once again between his legs. Anticipating yet another sexual experience from their new lover. He kissed her clit lightly again and slid a finger into her dripping pussy. He curled it up to find her pleasure button. The one that was hidden inside her vaginal treasure chest. She clenched her fists and pulled his hair a little as he passed it the first time. It had been so long since a strange hand had explored her depths. The thrill of not knowing where he would touch next fully aroused her. She began to pant again. Feeling yet another release cumming from her aching pussy. Dave sensed her pending orgasm and rubbed her g-spot a little harder. He sucked her clit into his lips and began to thrash it with his powerful tongue. Rita's hips began to buck wildly again. He could barely keep his mouth on her little nub. He slipped another finger past her cum drenched lips. Thrusting them into her. Meeting her every move with a commanding knowledgeable move. Once again he licked up her sweet nectar. Trying to ignore the pleading from his loins to be buried deep inside her. As her squirming slowed‚ He began to kiss his way up her body. Pausing to give each breast a loving kiss before venturing on. He kissed her neck and ears again. Listening to her deep breaths‚ her blissful moans. His hard throbbing cock lined up perfectly with her pussy. It was as if they were made for each other. He moved his hips up and down rubbing its swollen head over her lips. Suddenly as if on cue‚ he pushed it in past her labia just as she forced her hips up towards him. His dick buried deep inside her pussy. His balls bounced off of her ass. "Oh god‚" they both said‚ once again in unison. Dave pulled out and then pushed in again. Slowly this time‚ his cock feeling every inch of her woman hood and her vaginal walls being caressed by every inch of his being. He kissed her deeply‚ his tongue exploring the inner regions of her mouth where his being had just enjoyed an intense orgasm. He continued to move in and out slowly grinding his pelvic bone against her clit. He would rotate his hips a couple of times before withdrawing his fleshy sword and then doing it again. He kissed her neck‚ whispering praises in her ear. Telling her how beautiful and exciting she was. Rita's tunnel began to close tightly around his member. Pulling at it as he tried to back out. But the free flowing juice for her pussy kept it to well lubricated to stop its retreat. She was moaning loudly again as if she was applauding his performance. She imagined him as a conductor. Leading her orchestra in a lustful symphony of sex. Her body climbed to the crescendo of pleasure once again. She began to thrust her hips up to meet his onslaught of love. The tempo increased as he began to feel his body tingle with the passion as he felt his testicles once again being sucked up into his hard belly. He began to pound his meat into her pussy. Getting faster and faster as they both approached the last note of their beautiful duet. They could hear there bodies slapping together as if they were each a cymbal‚ being slammed together to highlight the end of there concerto. Dave's cock began to paint the inside of Rita's pussy with cum. His body trying to expel every ounce of fluid left in his aching loins. Rita's pussy pulsated as his cock swelled even bigger in the heat of passion. Her love muscles clenched tightly around his thick cock. Their love juices squirted out of her sopping hole as he made his last few thrusts into her. His body tensed and he buried himself deep inside her. He stayed buried in her whole feeling her squirm below him. Swirling her hips around to get every last sensation of orgasm she could possible stand. Dave collapsed on top of her. His hard throbbing cock still buried deep inside her tunnel of love. Her pussy quivered. Almost convulsing as she once again ascended from the heights of intense passion he had led her to. Dave laid on top of her feeling his cock grow soft inside her. He kissed her again on the mouth and let their tongues roll around each other's. Never before had Dave experienced such passion with a woman. He looked deeply into her eyes and sighed. "I love you." Rita's heart pounded as she heard the words. "I think I love you too‚" she said softly. The kissed again deeply and passionately as Dave's exhausted‚ limp cock slid from the recesses of her love hole. Dave rolled off of her and he put his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. Not wanting to let her go. She melted into his embrace. Never wanting it to end. They kissed softly a few more times before drifting of to a blissful slumber‚ where they ran through each other's dreams...... The end of chapter two. facebook "Richard Gilliland" for more information & photo Indianapolis, IN (USA) · Casual Sex · Pilot in command seeking sexy submissive petite/small size 1-3 or3-5 girl for long term relationship of passionate romance, sensual kisses, candle lit dinners, fun, gifts, shopping and travel What is the Square Root of 69 Olympic Peninsula, WA (USA) · Casual Sex · I'm a man that REALLY enjoys taking a woman putting her against the wall and getting on my knees and running my tounge slowly up her inner thighs hearing her moan as I reach her wet swollen sweet mound and gently partingher juicy pushy lips with my hot tounge. Exploring every inch of it and as she begins to arch her back I take my hands and pin her hips to the wall as I sink my tounge in deeper. Would you like to know how the story ends.