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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 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 Already Home Already Home · Erotic Couplings · She's already home when I get there still wearing my favorite 2 pieces of a 3pc skirt suit. There's just something about the easy access of a button down dress shirt and with her, the inevitable fact: there's no panties under that knee length skirt. She's sitting in our old wingback chair. Her back straight, elbows to wrists resting on the old chair's slightly worn arms, shirt unbottoned down to a risque depth, skirt hiked up just enough for legs to cross, resting on just one of the heels she's still, to my absolute excitement, wearing. A'la 1992 Sharon Stone, fingers crossed for the mid leg switching beaver shot. "Hey babe!" I offer as greeting while walking toward her. "Shut up, Sit down!" She replies sternly. While nonchalantly pointing with a flick of her wrist before returning her hand to it's previous position, dangling carelessly off front of chair arm's fillagree carved wooden edge. Her long index finger casually directed me to the dining room chair sitting ominously center square of the living room. "How did I miss that?" I pondered as I thirstily followed her command and nervously sat. I Began to lean forward intent on taking my work boots off... "Be still!", She says in a calm yet authoritive tone. I quickly resume good postured seating. "Good boy, stay." She says with narrowed eyes and widened smirk. She then stands and turns 180°. Those heels splendidly tighten her calves, thighs and ass to an undeniably sexy tone. She slowly tugs at her skirt working It's hem up one or two inches per side. Until barely exposing both of her beautifully bubbled ass cheeks. "I've got a few things here that I'm in the mood to put to use." she follows with, "How's that sound?" Then, as I begin to draw a breath to respond, "Shut up!" snaps across the air. All delivered without so much as a glance in my direction, in a tone resembling a grade school teacher, "That was a rhetorical question. Boy. It doesn't matter if you're in mood or not does it?" " No Ma'am.) Methodically she bends forward and removes the chair cushion, obviously being mindful to only bend at the waist. I can see her little pussy, resting like a treasured jewel carefully placed atop a pillow of her creamy thighs, it's lips just wet enough to glisten, beckoning to me like a watering hole mirage to a desert lost wanderer. My pestilent inner child wants to scream, "It's mine! Give it to me!" Silent though, happily obedient, I stay. She picks up a bag, replaces the seat's cushion, straightens her body to upright. Then slowly shimmies her skirt's hem back to it's designer's intended length. She turns, and despite the *click* *tap* *click* *tap* cadence of her heels, it's as if she glides to a point just out of my reach. Poised beautifully directly in front of me, hands on hips, intrigue laiden bag hanging securely from one elbows inner crease. She then extends her arm, bag in hand, raises it to parallel with the floor then abruptly drops it. Kneeling down directly in front of me, her knees in line with my heels. My eyes, like that of any man's eyes begin taking in the down buttoned view. Voluptuous blanched breasts with lucious Lemonade Pink shaded and gum drop shaped nipples. She pulls the bow from the first boot's laces then quickly and a bit aggressively tightens the remaining knot. Criss crossing the two ends as she wraps them around chair's leg and boot's ankle top, pulls a quick knot then, a bow then, a second. "Great move!", I think to myself while she repeats the clever process on the other boot. Still kneeling there before me she reaches into her bag and retrieves what looks to me like roughly 25' of nice three cord braided hemp rope. I am rock fucking hard already, my excitement is brimming, damn near uncontainably. I show nothing though. Fuck, I love her! She takes hold of my right wrist, gives it a little outward twist as she slides it in her shirt and places it on her tit, palm over nipple and releases it. Before she can reach other wrist I'm squeezing and pulling on left tit. Quicker then I could react she smacked my hand, barked, "Be Still" and was now poised, pimp hand raised, threatening to smack me across the cheek. I feel the warmth in my face as it flushes to red. For her sake I flinch a little extra careful to keep mostly still though. She then gives my left hand the same treatment as my right. Both hands now on beautifully baroque breast she leans in applying enough pressure to excite us both and begins to wrap figures eights around my wrists and up my firearms. Though I'm starring only at her face she refuses eye contact. "Damn she's good at this." I take mental note. Twenty something(I lost count somewhere around the 5th fabulous friction burn) wraps over right and left forearms. Slack splendidly pulled across my flesh at varying speeds. Coils covering from wrists nearly to elbows. Six loops between forearms to cinch the coils, terrifically tightening their hold. Now I sit, rope cuffed and bound forearms resting in my crotch, ankles tied, boots and all to the chair. Not sure I've ever been this turned on before. As much as I've fantasized about this type if thing. She's the only one I'd want doing this. She is a natural for sure. She's standing now, directly in front of me and again hiking her skirt up, alternating sides just a little at a time. Only difference from her skirt hem line's last tumultuous climb is the distance hiked. This time the skirts hem climbed to hips tip tops before it stopped. That shaved slice of glistening pie there in my face. I was leaning in to steal a quick lick when again, bitch moved quick. Asserting her dominance in an instance. Grabbing hold of the hair atop my head she forced my gaze to the skies. Stepped forward, straddled me and slapped my face. Now, with that delectable pussy damn near touching the bottom side of my chin her looking straight down at me using the narrow sight line just beyond her tits and the protrusion of their nipple's, her eyes grip mine for the first time since the start of this fantasy and says, "Stay, Boy." I try to tip my head forward, dying for a taste of that twat. She pulls harder at my hair. I shake my head and struggle a bit, mostly for the fun of it. She's serious though and doesn't relinquish grip, just waits for me to quit. "You done Boi?!" She asks with a heavily accentuated finish and shockingly aggressive tone. I use the miniscule range of motion left in my neck to timidly motion yes. She released my hair and I didn't move a muscle. She then took a seat on my lap first close then she slid back to release my arms which for a brief moment had been happily held captive there beneath her twot, taint and tail. She guided them over my head bent my elbows, taking my hands back and with the texture of the rope slighty scratching at the base of my neck she began tying the leftover bit from the cinch to the steel frame rail at the top of my chair's back. Blatantly brushing her beautiful breast across my face multiple times in multiple direction till knot was securely tied. I'm now, biceps over ears, elbows to the sky, wrist bound and chair rail tied. Feet still tied to chair legs. She starts grinding. Hard. Side to side, back and forth. Hard. Circular motions now, all with brute force. Doesn't take long and I can tell she's getting close. Harder. She grabs the sides of my neck puts her hands beneath my ears. Harder yet. Her thumbs meandering jaw line towards chin. Harder. She's grinding so vigorously the chair is sliding and shifting. Her thumbs slip down to my throat. She begins to squeeze, closing my throat and my corodit simultaneously. Nervous excitement, finally, someone gets it. Hopefully she sees all I do to others is what I want done to me. Her hands are cold against my neck. I close my eyes. Then in the darkening darkness I hear her,"Open them, look at me!" I open them but can't focus, "Look at me! Loo..." cut to black... I awaken to the sound of a clap and a curious sting across my face. I'm back, euphoric about to orgasm but not cum. She is still straddling my lap barely moving, then her sigh gives her away, she has cum. She moves back, her ass now on my knees. She grabs a fist full of my hair with one hand forcing my head down, as if I wanted to look anywhere else. "Do you see that?" She asks calmly in a sweet voice. Still groggy from the black out I barely muster an inaudible mumble. Using that fist full of hair she shakes my head wildy. "Asshole, Do you see the cum on my pussy?" She asks harshly. "Yes ma'am" I say while trying to shake my head. But she's giving me no room to move. She slides 2 fingers up her pussy, barely penetrating. I blink and it's admittedly long but my heads still foggy. Well, it apparently took too long, she slaps my face. "Open your mouth, Boy" She says, sliding her fingers up her pussy again. I open my mouth, saying, "ahhhhh" audibly with quivering in my tone. I can see her cum dripping from one as the two make their way like a child's feeding spoon towards my face. The moment I feel her finger tip on my tongue, I close mouth and suck, I use my tongue to lick her fingers clean of her cum. She tastes so good. I want her so bad! I needed this. She slides her long fingers back and forth, trough my lips and across my tongue, taking care not to let finger tips pass my puckered lips and leave my mouth. I close my eyes. I moan at a rate commensory to her pace. I groan. There's true passion in my tone. I moan. I groan. It's a lust filled, desire to satisfy, moan for the in stroke with a desperate plea not to stop, fuelled groan on the out stroke. She moves her other hand to the back of my head again acquiring a fist full of hair. She stops moving the fingers in my mouth. Holding that hand steady she's now pushing and pulling my head. First slowly then faster then she slows way down forcing me further on to her fingers with each slow repetition. I gag slightly. "There it is." She triumphantly says then, forces it again. I gag again. Not sure when she started but she's grinding again. Again I gag. This time she holds it there I'm gagging, trying to shake my head, trying to pull away. She wont let me. My eyes are watering now. My mouth is full of saliva and I'm drooling a bit. She's grinding. She's pushing and pulling again when she says, "Don't fucking swallow that spit, hear me asshole? I want that mouth messy and wet while I'm finger fucking it." She's grinding. I'm trying to nod yes but she's still giving me no room for motion. "Mmhmmm" I offer as it's all I can do. She's grinding hard now, tight to my pelvis, her hips rolling back and forward opposite the direction of my forcibly directed head. She slips a third finger in mouth. Slowly she pulls them back to nearly out, rolls her hips back to my thighs with matching pace. Unexpectedly she begins forcefully poundinh her crotch into mine, thrusting my head, her fingers travel deep down my mouth to my throat, over and over. I'm gagging every two or three thrusts, I can feel my pelvis and hips bruising. I'm crying now but, God Damn if I'm not close to cuming. I'm unsure if it's because of pleasure from this treatment or from pleasuring her by being a good Sub. With a final thrust of her hips she arches her back dramatically Simultaneously she was wildly throwing her head back. Suddenly she grabbed my crotch with both hands one on either side if my zipper and squeezes, hard then pulls harder. I twitch and bounce in reaction to the pain felt by the single unlucky nut to suffer the force of the orgasmic rip and grip just shown by her. More motivation for the tears streaming down my face. "Are you crying?"she asks with a touch of distain riding the words. "What a fucking bitch boy!" She says harshly as she slaps my face. Placing a cupped hand under my mouth, she commands me, "Spit, dumbass" I told you not to swallow it, I'm frantically nodding yes while I nearly fill her hand with hot sticky saliva. She steps off me and back with the assistance of a forceful push off my chest. She steps once more before using her empty hand to unzip that skirt it falls to the floor with ease. She reclaims her spot in the wing back, unbuttoning her shirt's last few buttons as her ass finds the seat cushion. With one foot up on chair's arm she places her cupped spit laiden hand over her crotch roughly, basically slapping her pussy lips then, rubs it all over her fucking hairless pussy. I can feel her staring at me. I keep my eyes fixed on her pussy. Excitedly watching her spread her pussy lips and fumble at her clit. She looks down and gives her pussy a couple easy slaps. To which I blurt out, "Harder! You bitch. Like you've been slapping me." Slowly her head rises just enough to make eye contact and for me to see the menacing smile now wide on her face. *SMACK* The sound is crisp in the air like that of a celebratory high five. "She's so amazing." I say to myself. Upon contact she nearly screams but her head doesn't move her smile remains the same and our eyes stay locked. Again without thought I blurt out, "Harder! Let's see it, you fucking bitch." She chuckles a bit tits bouncing in response to the laughter as if they too are snickering at my request. [ ] "Is bitch boy done crying now?" She asks, standing, stepping towards me she places one foot across the crease atop my thigh with her heel narrowly missing the head of of my dick. She slaps her pussy hard again then my face. Before I can react she asks. "Harder? Or is that gonna make you cry?" "Come on then, let's see slut. I say calmly and finishing with a head nod and a smile. This time I hold eye contact. I hear the loud smack of palm to wet pussy, out of the corner of my eye I catch a flash of flesh in motion then, nothing, blackness. Interrupting the silent darkness, I hear the sound of wet pussy being penetrated repeatidly, quickly, clapping a bit. I raise my head to see her finger poppin that tastey twat just inches from my tingling face. I smile wide. Seeing my smile she grabs me by the chin, leans in and kisses me. It's a long deep, tongue kiss, the kind that's so frantic it's like your struggling to occupy the same space, noses grinding, foreheads bumping, nostrils flaring, oxygen obtained in quick sharp inhales as if drowning and breathing in the tiny moments your head bobs above waterline. She pulls away. "Fuck me. Fuck me like the cock I am, please." I say in a wanting but not quite desperate tone. "No." She replies as plain as plain could be. "I won't fucking beg. Fuck me damn you!" Again a blase, "No." With her backside to me and again only bending at the waist she rummages through her bag. She fucked up though.... Seeing my opportunity I lean forward chairs backegs off the floor. Quickly getting pussy lips in my mouth I suck, my nose tickling at taint. Her first reaction is to pull away but I'm already licking the pussy like a dog on a dropped ice cream cone in August. But, she pulls away again, th walks out of room....wth... Quickly she returns. Carrying two more dinning room chairs placed one sideways in front of the other which faced me from the other side of the first chair. She says nothing as she crawls across the chairs, first away from me then backing that thing up til her knees were on my chair, her twat, taint, and tail all up in my face. Her face down on furthest chair she reaches back and spreads her beautifully bulbous cheeks. "15 minutes. Do what you want you've been a good boy, you earned it. Show me what that mouth do, fuck boy!" All of it was said kinda rough and tough like. I waste no time quickly starting with a playful bite of the bigger cheek, then another nibble this time at top of thigh, ass cheeks bottom crease. I then lick across crease to pussy. Already so wet and tasting wonderful. I get my face just deep enough that my fully extended tongue's tip barely slides over clit. And that is what I'm ecstatically doing, licking from taint through labia over clit and back again stopping occasionally to suck on pussy's lips, ok maybe a slight bite or two also. I feel a little twitch. My tongue outstretched I start shaking my head as if urgently saying No. Another twitch, another, she's close. Im mixing it up now side to side, back and forth, fast and hard. Then with a massive inhale and slow shakey exhale, shes cumming. I'm doing my best to lap it all in, sucking and licking frantically fillng my mouth with her juices and cum. I pull my head back and immediately following her next quiver spit my collection of her orgasms drip at the top of her ass crack. She moans in response as I watch the load slowly dripping down her crack. Just as that drip covers that starfish I dive in, my tongue catching the load as it barely reaches taint and spreads that lust filled load back up to the top of her ass crack. Licking my way to starfish again, once there, I slip my tongue in and push. Beginning with tongue at maximum protrusion. I start face fucking that ass. Slowly at first, in and out, in and out, each stroke gaining speed and force. My chin beating against taint, forehead spreading ass cheeks till i hit tail bone on every down stroke. "Oh Fuck!" I hear her say as she spins away. "Times up bitch boy." She tells me, her over pronounced smirk now irritatingly visible. Resting her back against the farthest chair. Her legs are spread to either side of the middle chair. I wish I could take a picture right now. Right now she epitomizes 'Woman' to me. Pure, raw sexuality. Her hair in beautiful disarray, a few wisps, sweat soaked and stuck precariously to her forehead. Chest heaving, eyes blinking slowly as if they don't know weather to stay open or closed. Sweat dripping sensuously from her chin to her breasts to her thighs, the cascade of lustful liquid pooking on the chair's seat, nuzzling the soft soft flesh of her inner thigh. Her luciously flirtatious lips curled upward ever so slightly at there ends almost as if fighting back a smile. Her petite yet perfect breast adorned with tiny droplets of sweat shimmering like lickable stars. Mmmm, I can damn near taste the salty passion filled elixir from here. Her milky white thighs tapering from knees to hips like flesh covered guiderails directing my sight to the gloriousness that is her pretty little, perfectly sculpted, lusciously pink, shaved slick, glistening pussy. My God what a picture that would make. "That was nice, Boi." She says her voice stale and monotone. "Why does she have to call me boy in that way? "Bitch", I say to myself. "Yes Ma'am. Will you fuck me now? I so badly want to be in you!" I say in my most innocent tone. Really I want nothing more than to scream, "I'm so fucking turned on! Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me! You devilish angel you!" Her reply... "No." This cocksucker, my arms are numb from pits to wrists, my earlier struggle definitely caused the rope to break skin. I'm bleeding. I could feel it dripping in my hand before the numbness set in. My fucking face is covered in pussy juice and ass sweat(ok, i kinda like that, so what... Don't judge me.) My dick hurts from being hard as fuck this whole time but twisted a bit inside my jeans and no way to adjust it. All that and this bitch, this amazing, loving, caring, ride or die, I love her more than I love I, fantasy cunt just says... "No." I decide I'll try a different approach. Head high and turned to the side I collect what ever funk and saliva is available in my mouth and spit it to the living room floor then quickly turn back to deliver a glare in her direction, her head snaps to make eye contact as well. Now with scowls on our faces we're locked in a staring contest so intense it's nearly blinding. I aggressively say, "I'm not fucking around whore get over here pull my God damn, rock hard, cock out and fuck me. Or I swear to..." "Oh my gosh." she interupts in a mildy childish tone "I'm sorry, let me do something about this situation, gimme one second. I'll make it all better, you'll see." "God damn right! Maybe my little whore should suck it first." I say attempting to take control and in hindsight pushing my luck a bit. She picks up her bag and steps behind me. Out of site. I hear her rummaging in that bag. "There it is..." She says with a sense of accomplishment. "There's what?" I ask with nervous vibrato in my voice. "Just what we need to proceed" she replies in an overly sweet voice. Then something slips quickly past my eyes, ouch, fuck pressure at my lips. Opening my mouth to speak and, "Mmm mmmm m mm" This Bitch just... just ball gagged me! Mother... Fuck... I love her! "So much for taking control." I think to myself while laughing in my head. She's talking, well ranting, mumbling, but mostly to herself I catch things like. "I got your little whore... Feelin fucked now I bet..on the God damn new carpet..." She steps around my side. Now wearing a short little silk Kimono she knows I love, it's loosely tied and completely sexy. She's carying the bag in one hand and moving hair from her face with the other as she aggressively kicks the two chairs in front of me aside they both tip over, the second teetering on the first. "Now. Any more orders? Sir." She asks, sharply, as she slowly turns to face me. Her demeanor Is calm and polite as if she's innocently just started a new soring day I offer no sound, being as sounds are all I could offer. I am however doing my best to say, "Fu-ck Youu." sarcastically with my eyes. I've never wore a ball gag, it's not as uncomfortable as I would have guessed though swallowing is a bit tough. Damn, she's sexxxy! She reaches into her bag and retrieves a pair of scissors. Looks at me and holds the scissors in our shared sight line and demostrates there function with a *SNIP* *SNIP*. Oh Shit, the nervousness, the thrill, the sheer (no pun intended) fucking anticipation! She reaches down and pinches a bit of my T-shirt at the center of my chest pulls it away from my body forcefully till the material tugs at my back, with a *SNIP* it snaps back minus a hole now residing middle of my chest. She then pinches my nipple, hard, I flinch and groan. She pulls till my nipple can't be pulled anymore, then pulls fabric till again it tugs at my back. *SNIP* shirt snaps back with my nipple now sore and exposed. Grinning she repeats the process in random spots and of course my other nipple. She stops abruptly, admires her work for a minute before carelessly tossing the scissors over her shoulder and disappearing to the back of me again. By the sound of her breathing I know she's behind me. But nothing happens for a few minutes. My mind steadily racing with possibilities and the thought of her fucking me. Suddenly her hands are my shoulders and sliding over my chest. Both sides of my lower rib cage are given a little squeeze. Her left hand finds a Hole on my side just below my ribs soon her other hand is there too. Caressing my flesh tracing the upper part of hip bone then with the sound of tearing fabric the pre-cut hole increases ten fold. Her hands find my sides and slide up to my armpits, then follow my clavicles to my chest's center and the first hole cut. No caress this time, no pleasurable prelude. Nope, this time I immediately feel eight fingernails damn near puncturing my flesh. I twitch at first, the pressure increases. I *squeal* for lack of better term and struggle. To no avail so, I sit still, breathe slowly, basking in the pain. "I can endure because I enjoy." I repeat over and over Inside my head. About the time I'm centered the nails start seperating... 2 inches... 4 inches... Ow... shit... fuck my... GD... nipples. "Oh you Fucking CUNT" I try to scream but, "oo yyuuffuuu uhh" is I'm sure all she heard. The shirt tears as she goes, she makes much quicker time the final few inches. Looking down I can see two of the four horizontal stripes now carved in my chest. Flesh only tore enough to bleed in a few unpatterned locations. She steps back around, the shock can be scene on face. Before sympathy or regret can kick in, I rock the chair a bit and mumble in attempt to change focus. She looks up and I give her a quick *wink*. She kneels down in front of me and slowly licks the blood from my skin delicately kissing each wound while also unbuttoning and unzipping my pants. As she addresses my last wound her finger tips are nestled in my waistline on both my sides. The moment last kiss is planted she begins pulling forcibly, roughly trying to remove my pants. I thrust my hips and squirm in attempt at easing the process. Once passed my knees she gives one final tug. With an exhale that proclaimed job well done. She slapped my balls a couple times, with two fingers on the head of my fully erect dick she pushes it down to the seat chair and lets go, it snaps back and slaps against my stomach. She snickers a bit and as she pulls it down again I roll my eyes *Slap*. She stands up, seeming pleased with herself. She looks at me and winks as she bends down, beautiful tits dangling there before me, nipples rubbing silk, acquiring what seems to be 35' or so of rope from her bag.. She has a seat on my lap as far back towards my knees as she can. Ohhh, my desire peeked imagination can almost feel her pussy on my dick. She looks me in the eye and asks,"You wanna fuck me?" I shake my head yes, yes, yes. "No ." She sternly says. She holds the rope up, makes a loop at its middle, just below the loop she grasps the two lines pulling them through the loop and creates a simple lashing loop. She looks down at my dick, then up to my face, then back to the rope and back to my dick. "Son of a bitch." is all I can say to myself. She slid the lash over the head of my dick carefully, as to avoid pinching she pulled the two strands in opposite directions. Then up and around my neck with both lengths going in taking seperate but equal routes. She gently pulls it tight so now my dick is being stretched to painfull but nothing to be done, no way to escape. With about 15 foot of rope remaining she starts wrapping coils around my torso. The coils start one turn above my nipples and made it just past my lowest rib. She wraps them through the chair's vertical rungs pulling them tight as she goes. My breathing labors under the pressuree. Stopping at mid front she tied them off to the vertical strands holding my cock up. With maybe 2- 1 foot lengths remaining, she whips at my thighs as if holding drum sticks and reenacting a Travis Barker solo, contemplating a use for left over length I believe. With a final, wince and moan inducing drum roll, this time including my cock and ending in a double handed symbol crash on my ball sack. She gets to work bringing her idea to fruition. She isolates my balls and begins wraping the rope about three coils, pushing my balls about five inches from body, ends double knotted to secure it all. While looking down and admiring her work she said, "Still wanna fuck me?" Yes, yes, yes I vigorously shake my head. "No." Of course is her reply. She interlaces her fingers behind my neck, arches her back, places her pussy on the rope coils above my captive cock and slowly slides twitching a bit when she slides over the knots. "Wanna fuck me?" She asks with a shocking amount of innocence in her voice. In protest, I make no movement an utter no sound. Not that I could do much of either at this point. Six or seven repetitions in she's grinding and thrusting quicker and harder. "DO You wanna fuck me, boi?" No innocent tones this time, No, this time the wordswere almost growled. Still I offer no reply. She grins, moans and carries on. My cock is wet, my balls are wet, the rope around them is wet. I close my eyes and throw my head back, I'm about to cum. "No!" She hollers as she slaps my face, her hips jerking the uncontrollable, unmistakable spasms of an orgasm. "Damn..." she says smiling wide as she slaps me again. "...didn't plan on cumming like that." I'm so fucking horny. So GD turned on that my hips involuntarily try to pump. "I said, No! Asshole!" She says obviously annoyed as she back hands my now blue almost purple sack. Resulting in a gringe and pain filled moan from me. Fuck, My eyes are watering too. "Don't cry, bitch boy, I'm almost through." Her voice soft, gentle almost sleepy. "You do still wanna fuck me, wanna feel that hard dick balls deep in my wet pussy, right?" She says while standing up and dropping the kimono to the floor. Casually she turns away from me. She picks up her bag, between blurry, watery vision and her beautiful backside, my view is blocked. She places something on the arm of the living room chair she first sat in. "Right bitch boy, You wanna fuck me real badly, don't you?" she moving closer and nearly whispering. Again, I'm a rock. No motion, no noise. She grabs the the vertical leads to my aching, throbbing, fading heart-on. Causing my entire body to convulse. She slowly takes a seat on my knees, "Don't you? bitch!" She yells. Her eyes fixed on the stretching of my dick the whole time. Slowly, I nod yes, as she redirects her eyes toward mine. Contact gained, she adds yet more tension to rope in her hand. She screams, "DON'T YOU? YOU FUCK!" Ignoring the the pain from my cock, I frantically tried nodding, simultaneously tried to say Yes, yes, yes... "Yhmm, hemnn,yaua" is how it came out after curling round black leather bound Teflon ball still in mouth. "You wanna fuck my mouth?" She asked loud and sternly then, displays the prize. Opening mouth wide, tongue out, curled down, she moves in toward my face cocks her head back and forth arrogantly. Mocking me. Slowing down, I nod yes, as she barks another inquiry aggressively in my face. "Wanna fuck my ass?' I nod yes, as she walks past me. "Wanna fuck my wet pussy?" Calming some. I nod yes, then pause as I realize she set-up a camera and small tripod on the arm of the chair. I remember thinking, "Shit, must be a hell of a finish she has planned." "I'm going to do a couple things, don't you dare move boi. Stay boy, stay" she cautions softly double slapping my cheek then squeezed my face roughly to a pucker with her index finger and thumb. It's quiet, except for the slight panting sounds my labored breathing is producing. I think she untied my coil cuffs from the chair back. Ok, now she's undoing the cinches that tighten the rope coils around my fore arms. "How bad do you wanna fuck me, bitch?" "Boy, *slap, slap*You wanna Fuck me?" I'm staring, I slowly nod yes. "Good... I'll be upstairs waiting. Get yourself undone, if you can. Then, come fuck me, if you want." Her words trailing off as she in all her naked Splendor heads up the stairs. Hollering from the second floor, "And clean that fucking spit off the floor, you asshole!" My arms are so numb I struggle for a few minutes just to move them to my lap. Waiting for some blood flow to return, I'm staring straight through the camera. My dick is starting to go limp the rope still refusing to do so, pulls unforgivingly, forbidding my cocks retreat. I push back the pain and focus on freeing my arms. I go at the rope puzzle backwards according to most, I shimmy my arms back and forward till I have sufficient slack to slip the original loop then rubbing wrist to wrist for a minute, bending elbows and snapping arms straight the coils swiftly slide past my hands and add to the floor's clutter. I immediately reach to unbuckle the fucking ball gag, throwing it at but past the camera. Looking at the camera every second I can. I take the pocket knife from my jeans, slide it's blade between laces and chair leg. With one swift pull, one leg is freed. Same steps on the other side and my legs are both liberated. Leaving only my well coiled torso to free. The knots are easily reached but they are tied inches from softening dick, which was being pulled so taunt by then It felt like it could tear in half. I got to my feet, bent at the waist, chair legs and chest parellel to floor. I back up to one of the rooms arched entry ways twist and bust chair bottom to pieces. Still not enough slack I have to get hard. I step to the front of the camera holding chair. Standing directly in front of it a carefully start stroking my cock from base to rope just above head and back again. "You fucking dirty slut, the way have treated me tonight... You fucking tortured me, abused me, teased me and I swear to christ...I love you! Thank you! And as soon as I get hard again...to slip this cockholding rope... I'm coming to fuck you, Im gonna plug the camera to the TV so can watch my escape while I hate fuck all three of your fabulous holes." I rant knowing full well the camera can probably only see the stroking of my cock as dark as it's gotten to be. The rant did it I'm getting hard on a random up stroke the lash slips over and off my cock's now purple head. I easily untie the coils around my nuts. Then the knots securing my torso coil after coil, after a few minutes of uncoiling... I'm completely free. I step outta the jeans remove what's left of my tattered shirt. Standing naked in front of the camera I turn a slow 360° so she can admire her handy work. Taking little more than a minute to recoup, I snatch the camera, head upstairs to claim my reward's and pine over my lovers ultra high level of kinky awesomeness!! A night out with my wife A night out with my wife · Wives · “Fuck you’re hot!” Is all I can say as you step out of the bathroom of our hotel… You’re wearing an elegantly sexy dress only the way you know how. A beautiful black number with a plunging neck line, off the shoulder sleeves and a lacy hem line that just shows off your knees. The neck line shows off your beautiful cleavage while your sexy shoulders are framed gorgeously by the lacy shoulder sleeves. You are the image of female perfection! “Naw thanks Beamie,” you say as you give me a kiss on the cheek, “you’re looking pretty hot yourself!” How you see that I don’t know, all I’m wearing are my chinos and an off white linen shirt with my sleeves rolled up. “Haha nah, you’re the hot one.” I say as I pull you close for a deep kiss. Your mouth opens instinctively as I slide my tongue into it. You wrap your arms around me and dig your fingers into the back of my head as you grip my ass and pull me closer, grinding yourself against the now very noticeable bulge in my crotch. You pull away and look at me coyly, “I have to finish my make up so you can ruin it later.” You wink as you walk back into the bathroom. We get an Uber to a nice little place that has a restaurant on one side and a small club on the other side. The lighting is low making it more intimate and the decor looks dark and sensual. “Would you like dinner? Or to get a drink first honey?” I ask as we walk through reception. “Dinner, I’m hungry.” You reply as a waitress comes towards us with some menus and guides us to a snug little corner booth… “Ooh this is cozy,” you comment as you slide in first, “and comfy…” I slide in next to you and feel the booth wrap around me as I do. “Wow this is pretty nice.” I say as the waitress lays the menus on the table and goes over the specials. I’m not really listening though as you catch me by surprise by groping my crotch under the table while the waitress talks. We order a round of drinks and an entree and the waitress leaves. Our booth is pretty secluded from view behind a pillar in the centre of the room and the high backs of other booths. You make a comment as you squeeze my cock through my chinos that I could pretty much fuck you on the table and no one would notice. I chuckle and ask why you’re being so naughty this evening. You smile mischievously as your hand stops squeezing my thick bulge, your fingers moving under the tablecloth to… “What are you doing?” I ask with surprise. “Just enjoy it.” You say as you unzip my pants and free my throbbing cock under the table. You take a firm grip and start to stroke it slowly, feeling the warmth in your hand as you slide it up and down my shaft. I lean in and give you a kiss only to be interrupted by the waitress bringing our drinks. “Have you decided on your mains?” She asks politely. I open the menu to order our main course as you squeeze my cock gently under the table. I read out our order a little nervously, hoping the waitress doesn’t pick up on what’s happening right in front of her. As I complete our order the waitress takes our menus and gives you a knowing look as she turns and walks away. “Well that was different,” I say as you lean closer to me, “I was sure we’d get caught and kicked out.” “Don’t be so nervous honey,” you say as you gently kiss my lips, “no one can see anything.” You lower your head to my lap and gently suck on my knob, dancing your tongue around the eye of my cock, tasting my pre-cum. My god that feels good. You sit yourself upright just in time as the entrees are brought to the table. You release my cock and bring your hand out from under the table. “Mmm these look delicious!” You say as the waiter walks away. I fix myself up and we start our dinner. After our mains we relax in the booth for a while before our dessert is brought out. We decided to share because we weren’t sure how hungry we would be. As we’re waiting I decide to take advantage of the long, floor length table cloth and quickly slide under the table. Once there I gently kiss the inside of your knee as your legs part, revealing your beautiful naked pussy. You’d had it waxed earlier in the day and it was already glistening with the moisture of your excitement. I kiss along your thigh, occasionally nibbling the inside of your legs as I make my way closer to your wetness. I can hear the waitress returning without our dessert and I place my mouth over your cunt. “Oh, where’s your husband gone?” She asks. “He’s just gone to the restroom.” You say as I suck on your little clit, making you shudder slightly. “Oh ok,” the waitress replies, “Is everything ok here then?” “Yes,” you almost gasp, “everything is perfect.” You manage to sound as in control as possible while I’m licking and sucking on your pussy. “Ok, I’ll leave you to it.” The waitress smiles as she turns and walks away. I can hear her footfalls as I slide my fingers into you, finding your g-spot as I suck your clit into my mouth. You let out a quiet whimper as I finger and eat you under the table. I feel you shudder slightly as you grip the back of my head. I believe that’s the first of your orgasms for the evening, I smile to myself as I remove my fingers from between your legs and take my seat up at the table next to you. I clean my face with my napkin and gently give you a kiss as we start our dessert. After we finished dinner and paid the bill we headed toward the lobby. We’d had a couple of drinks with dinner and were feeling quite content. Especially with our naughty shenanigans over dinner. We hear the rhythm of the music coming from the small, dimly lit club next door and you pull at my arm… “C’mon honey, I really want to dance!” You say as you pull me towards the club entrance. “You know I don’t dance chooky.” I say as you look at me with pleading eyes. “I never said you were dancing,” you take my hand and lead the way, “ I said that ‘I’ wanted to dance.” And we enter the club. It’s darker than the restaurant with small, glowing lights strategically placed all around the walls and ceiling. A DJ is playing dance music with a rumba back beat and rhythm making it sound like sensual Latin music. We make our way to the bar, you in front, swinging your hips to the music, and me behind, mesmerised by your curves in your sexy dress. We order a couple of drinks as we take in the scenery. With the bar behind us and the dance floor in front of us at the centre of the club there are small tables and booths similar to the restaurant dotted around the sides of the dance floor. It was cosy and almost seductive. You grind your ass against me, dancing a little as you sip at your drink. You place it on the bar and give me a peck on the cheek. “Thank you.” You say as you head towards the dance floor. It’s not packed, however there are a decent amount of people dancing for a club this size. Mostly couples, completely lost in each other and a few singles just enjoying themselves. You begin to move to the music, your hips swaying seductively as you flick your hair wildly and raise your arms above your head. Fuck I love watching you dance… you make me hard just watching you. As you’re dancing one of the single ladies bumps into you lightly, she turns and you both give a little giggle. She matches your dance moves as you continue to move to the music, rhythmically moving together. The music gets more intense as you start dancing closer to her, both of you with your arms raised, moving to the rhythm, bodies touching as you both sway to the seductive Latin sounds beating out of the clubs speakers. You’re dangerously close to each other, hips touching, nose to nose as you writhe to the Latin beat. You’re both glowing with sweat as you grind gently against each other. Watching you get so close and seductive with another woman has me straining in my pants. You’re so hot! The way you move and sway against her body, it’s erotically mesmerising. The music stops and you both hug and part ways. You join me at the bar and I pass you your drink. You take a big sip and let out a pent up breath. “That was fun!” You say excitedly as you take another sip of your drink. “It was pretty damned good from where I’m standing!” I exclaim. “I need to use the loo sweetheart,” I give you a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a sec.” I head to the restroom to relieve myself as well as to calm myself from what I was just watching. Wow! I come back from the toilet and see you and your “dance partner” both in deep conversation at the bar, I slow my stride and watch your body language as I approach. You are on a bar stool, side on to the bar, your legs crossed as you elegantly sip your drink. She is leaning back on the bar, engaging your gaze as the talks over the top of her glass. Her eyes are full of life as she speaks and you seem to be hanging on every word. I take this time to finally take in your new friend. She’s fairly attractive, a little more older too. She looked to be in her 40’s with long brown, tight, curly hair. Almost ‘frizzy’. Almost flawless olive skin and luscious full lips. She’s about as tall as you and has a long slender body, ample C cup breasts that bounced every time she moved and a slender waist leading down to a tight stomach and long toned legs. She was wearing a cream coloured skirt and dark burgundy top with shoestring straps. It was tight and showed of her bust clearly and her skirt was short enough that if she sat on one of the bar stools everyone would have seen what she had on underneath… or rather what she didn’t have one… occasionally as she leaned back and her skirt rode up she gave everyone a good view of her bare pussy. As she rested on the bar she arched back to show off her generously sized breasts and flat stomach. Then, when she turned around her skirt barely hid her toned round ass and shapely legs. Just then I caught you, I watched as your gaze went from her face to her ass and legs then back up again… you just gave her the ‘once over’ you cheeky bitch… and I saw the look in your eye as you uncrossed your legs. You liked her… hell I would have even said that you were hot for her… and she definitely looked like she was hot for you too. The way she touched your arm and brushed your leg as she talked. You both looked like you were really enjoying each other. I walked up beside you at the bar and you turned towards me happily. “Hi hubspand!” You said playfully as you pulled me in for a kiss. It was hotter than usual… I could feel your tension from the heat in your lips and tongue. “Hello chicken, who’s your new friend?” You turned back to your dance partner and introduced us. “This is Sasha, she’s the one I was dancing with.” “Yes I was watching, you two looked good out there.” I took her hand and politely gave it a squeeze. “This is my husband, Heath.” You say to your new friend. “Hi Heath, Tara was just telling me about you.” She squeezed my hand back and if I didn’t know better she gave me the once over too! “You’re right, he is handsome.” She said to you with a cheeky smile. I slide back behind you to the bar, “would either of you like a drink?” I ask as the barman comes over. You both tell me what you’d like and I order. I pass your drink to you over your shoulder and place it on the bar, I then pass Sasha’s to her and a little ice lands on your thigh just below the lacy hem of your dress. You flinch a little surprised by the sudden cold. I reach down to grab the ice, only to find Sasha already had a hand on your thigh, her long fingers slightly under the hem of your dress as she slowly wipes the ice down your smooth skin towards your knee. “Allow me,” she purrs as the puts her fingers to her lips and sucks the moisture off them, “before you arrived I was just telling your wife how hot she was too.” She shot a look at me over your shoulder. “She certainly is hot.” I give her a wink as I gently rub your thigh where her hand was. I look down at you and notice your flushed appearance and an excited sparkle in your eye. ‘What are you thinking?’ I say to myself. You cheekily put a piece of ice in your lips and gently suck at it before playfully dropping it in your lap, keeping your eyes locked with hers. Her hand reaches for the ice resting between your closed legs as she moves a little closer towards you. Her eyes hot with passion. As her fingers press the melting ice cube into your thigh you part your legs slightly and her had slides up under your dress. You can feel the chilling trail of the ice cube as she slides it, between her long fingers, further up your thigh. You let out a little gasp as the ice touches your pussy lips, then a quiet little moan of pleasure as she pushes her fingers inside you with the melting ice. She leans forward and places her mouth over yours and thrusts her tongue between your lips, stifling a louder moan as she curls her fingers inside of you, grazing the tips of her nails against your g-spot. Meanwhile behind you I’m getting a raging hard on watching the amazing scene in front of me unfold. Sasha senses this and breaks her kiss from you, leans over your shoulder and pulls me towards her, her lips parted. Her tongue slides into my mouth as she continues to finger your wet pussy. She pulls away from me, looks us both in the eye and goes to speak. “Yes,” you say in a low breathy voice, “my husband will organise the Uber.” She removes her fingers from between your legs and we all head to the lobby. You two ladies walking in front, hand in hand as I follow, clicking on the Uber app. The ride back to our hotel was short, yet it felt like it an eon with the build up of sexual tension. Sasha had me set between you two in the back of the car, quite probably because she knew the two of you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other the whole way. You gripped my upper thigh as we rounded a corner, squeezing a little before sliding your hand a little further up as we came around the opposite corner. You firmly grasped the bulge in my pants as you took a deep breath while looking out the window. I could see you were both hesitant and excited about what was happening. You turned to me, squeezed my cock through my chinos and grabbed my face, pulling me to you, opening your mouth as you kissed me allowing me to slide my tongue past your lips. Another hand joined yours between my legs as Sasha began to massage my bulge, her fingers between yours, grabbing and groping. You broke your kiss and pushed my face away from you as Sasha planted her mouth on mine, sucking my tongue out of my mouth and into hers. “We’re here.” The Uber driver said blankly as he pulled up to the hotel.. We separated ourselves and alighted the car. We all walked together this time, through the lobby and into the elevator. It was empty. I pushed the button to our floor and the ‘door close’ button and turned to see you, kissing Sasha deeply, pushing her up against the elevator wall and sliding a hand between her legs. The goods closed. You slid a finger into her wet pussy as she reached out and grabbed my hand. She pushed me down between the two of you as you kissed and fingered her. She pulled at your dress and I lifted your leg over my shoulder. Your pussy was glistening with wetness as I closed my mouth over your swollen lips and began to suck your clit. You moaned into Sasha’s mouth as I slid a finger deep into you and began curling it toward your g-spot. You removed your hand from Sasha and wrapped your fingers around the back of my head, pulling me closer and grinding against my face. Then you turned my head so I was facing Sasha’s exposed pussy and pushed me towards it… I hesitated a little, not sure if this was the throes of passion or what you wanted. “Go on,” you whispered, sensing my reluctance, “do it.” With your quiet encouragement I slid my hand up the back of her leg, squeezed her ass and pulled her pussy to my face, sliding my tongue along her soaking slit, sucking at her lips as she pushed against my mouth. I started to suck at her clit as I slid my fingers into her pussy. As the elevator climbed higher I made sure I gave you both the same attention. First eating your pussy then Sasha’s as I kept my fingers working away inside you both. If there was anyone waiting for the elevator when it arrived at our floor they would have been met with an amazingly sordid sight. Two gorgeously sexy women standing with their legs spread and their pussies exposed with a man on his knees between them, fingers in their pussies and mouth going from one to the other as they kissed and moaned and fondled each others bodies. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone waiting when the doors opened. With an exasperated sigh we straightened ourselves up and headed for our room. Once inside I turned the lights down to a dim glow, just enough to see what we’re doing but not too bright to steal the mood. We make our way to the bed where you stand nervously between me and Sasha. I turn you to face me, gazing into your beautiful eyes. “Enjoy this,” I say, full of love and lust as I give you a gentle kiss on your perfect lips. “I’ll just be over here.” I turn and manoeuvre a low set arm chair just away from the bed. I take a seat and give you a cheeky grin as Sasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around you, kissing your neck gently. One hand giving your beautiful breast a squeeze as her other hand slides down and pulls up your dress, exposing your pussy once more. You move one of your hands down to hers, placing it over her hand as she gently strokes your pussy. Your other hand reaches up behind her head as she licks at your earlobe and nibbles a little. “We need to take this dress off.” She says softly in your ear. “Mmmm, you need to take it off me.” You moan in response. Gently she slips the shoulders of your dress off your arms and it falls to the floor. At the same time she hooks a thumb into the top of her skirt and slides it over her toned ass and it ends up next to your dress. You turn to face her as she pulls her top over her head, exposing her beautiful natural bust. You place your hands on them, giving them a little squeeze before sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. She moans slightly as she caresses the back of your head. Sasha looks at me as she holds you to her chest with one hand and squeezes your perfect ass with another. “I’m going to fuck your wife while you watch.” She teases. Then she pushes you to the bed. You lay down in the middle of the bed with your head up on the pillows, spreading your legs and giving me a magnificent view of your glistening pussy. Sasha positions herself between your legs, bending over so I can see her wetness thrust up into the air. She lowers her head between your legs and gently slides her tongue along the outside your pussy lips, tasting your juices and savouring the feeling of your pussy on her tongue. You let out a moan as you raise your knees and spread your legs wider, watching her face as she licks slowly from your ass to your clit, holding your gaze with every sensual lick. You can’t hold back anymore as you grasp the headboard with one hand and take a handful of hair with the other you push her face between your legs and grind your hot cunt into her mouth. She starts to suck on your pussy, sliding a tongue between your swollen lips and she sucks hard. You feel the sensation of her tongue darting in and out of you sending electric waves through your sexy body. You look over at me in the chair watching as she makes love to your pussy with her mouth. Her ass is facing me as I watch, I can see the glisten juices running down her legs as she sucks and licks at your pulsating pussy. I catch your gaze as you start to cum. You look so fucking hot, laying there with your legs spread, grinding this sexy woman’s face into your cunt. Your eyes roll back into your head as you explode into an orgasm, your hips shaking as she sucks your clit into her mouth. As I’m watching I see her fingers reach down between her legs and spread her pussy open, revealing the deep, moist tunnel between her lips. She slides two of her fingers inside her own cunt as she slides two fingers into you, continuing to suck at your clot as you writhe around in ecstasy. You push her head away as you try to control your shaking. You’re panting and glistening with sweat as you pull her up to you and kiss her deeply, your tongue sliding with hers into and out of her mouth. She grinds her pussy against your leg, leaving a trail of wetness the length of your thigh. She pushes her own leg between your and grinds against your open pussy. The sensation is amazing as she leans back and positions herself so that her pussy is pressed against yours. ‘Fuck this is hot.’ my mind races as my cock strains against my pants. As I’m watching you both spread your legs and push your pussies together, grinding so hard that they open into each other almost like kissing mouths. Her hips start to rotate as she grinds against you, mashing her clit against yours. Both of you panting and moaning as ride each other. You reach down and grab her ass and pull her harder into your pussy as she thrusts up against you, wriggling her hips as she does. The scene unfolding in front of me is one of pure erotic sexual pleasure. The look on your face as you grind yourself against Sasha’s pussy is one I will not forget in a hurry, and as I look at Sasha, her own face flushed with pleasure, she opens her mouth and lets out a moan as she cums agains your cunt. She squirts a little, both shocking you slightly and exciting you. You reach down and thrust your fingers into her pussy as she continues to cum. You find her g-spot and start to thrust against it. She looks like she’s about to faint as she lets out gasping scream and falls back on the bed, still between your legs. Her pussy let’s put a high pressure stream of juice as she squirts all over your hand, leg and pussy. You keep fingering her as she writhes around like a possessed demon, groaning and grunting. You let out an excited moan of triumph as she squirts again, soaking the bed and your leg. She squeezes her legs shut, stopping you from fingering her and rolls to the side, hips thrusting and shaking with orgasmic ecstasy. As she catches her breath you move over the top of her, gently kissing from her naval to her neck, then opening your mouth above hers you slide out your tongue, hers meets you in the middle, your mouths apart as your tongues lick and slide against each other. She pulls you onto her as you embrace and kiss in an erotic entanglement. What an amazing sight! The whole time I’m watching my sexy as fuck wife, naked, with another naked hot woman fucking on the bed in front me I had barely moved. I shifted in my seat to make myself comfortable as my cock strained at my pants. And that is all. I sat transfixed on the erotic sight unfolding in front of me. Holy fuck was my wife hot! Holy fuck was she sexy as all hell as another woman brought her to orgasm after orgasm and she returned the favour. It took all my will power to keep myself dressed and calm. As you and Sasha untangled yourselves from your sexual knot I could see the soaked spots where she had squirted from your fingering and the messed up blankets from your sexual writhing. What an erotic, horny mess. Fuck was I turned on! You pulled yourself away from Sasha and sexily sauntered towards me, beaming with hot, lustful pride. You leaned down towards me and kissed me deeply, your tongue tasted like her, like her mouth, her pussy… it was amazing. You grabbed at my cock and gave it a squeeze. “Take off your pants,” you quietly said, “stroke your cock while we play.” You turned and thrust your ass towards my face, bending at the waist. Your ass cheeks spread, revealing your red and swollen pussy. I don’t know what came over me, but I grabbed your ass cheeks and pulled you back towards my face and plunged my tongue deep into your tight hole, wriggling my tongue inside you and thrusting my fingers into your pussy. You moaned as I licked and sucked from your ass to your pussy, making you even wetter than you were when you walked over to me. Suddenly you stood up, looking back at me and sliding a hand between your legs from the front and the back. You bent back over again giving me full view for you sliding a sexy finger into both of your tight holes. “Fuck you are such a tease!” I hiss as you push your fingers inside your ass and cunt. You stand, removing your hands and walk back to the bed where Sasha is fingering her own pussy while watching us. “Take your cock out.” You repeat as you join Sasha on the bed and kiss her as she masturbates. You both watch me as I stand and slide my pants down and off my feet, my cock straining at my briefs and a little patch of pre-cum soaking the front. “Mmmm it does look nice,” Sasha says lustfully to you as I drop my briefs. My thick cock bounces in front of me, a little droplet of pre-cum moistening the tip as I sit back down in the chair. You and Sasha both have your legs spread and your fingers in your own pussies as you watch me take hold of my cock and slowly start to stroke it. “That’s hot,” you say breathily as you watch me, “mmmmm such a nice cock.” Sasha makes the first move, pushing you down onto the bed so your head is at the top end. She positions her wet pussy above your face and her mouth above your pussy. You reach up and grasp her toned ass and pull her down to your hungry mouth just as she puts her mouth on you, licking your wet pussy. She looks up at me with a grin and spreads your pussy wide, opening you up to my gaze as she drools a little saliva out of her mouth and into your hole. She motions me to come over. I raise from my seat and discard my shirt. Slowly walking towards the bed Sasha reaches up and takes hold of my throbbing cock. She pulls me toward the bed by my shaft, running her thumb over the tip and smearing the pre-cum over it. “Mmmm,” she moans, partly from your mouth and fingers working away at her pussy and partly at the amount of pre-cum oozing out of my cock. She pulls me closer, darting her tongue out and licking the moisture from the head of my cock. She wraps her lips around the thick, bulbous head of my cock and sucks the pre-cum from the tip before positioning it at the entrance of your open pussy. She spits on your cunt before pulling me inside, filling you with my thick shaft. You let out a loud moan as I enter you, bucking your hips up to meet the thrust of my cock as Sasha feeds it into your pussy. I thrust into you a few times before she pulls it out and sucks your juices off me. “Mmmm your wife has such a tasty pussy.” She purrs as she licks the length of my shaft and stuffs it back into your hot cunt. She releases my cock and sits back, grinding into your mouth as she moans and arches her back. I start to slowly slide my cock in and out of you as you wrap your legs around me. “Mmmmmm” is all I can hear as you moan into her pussy. Sasha begins to rock back and forth on your mouth as she squeezes her breasts. “Yesss.” She hisses as you lick and suck her pussy, “you’re gonna make me cum again!” Just as her hips start to shake you slide a finger deep into her puckered ass and she explodes all over your face, squirting and drenching the blankets around you. She moans and falls to the side off you as an orgasm wracks her body. You turn your focus to me as I thrust into you harder, filling you with my cock. “I want to ride you!” You moan as you roll out from under me and flip me on my back. In one movement you are now on top and my cock is still deep in your pussy. You start to rotate your hips as you lean back and slowly ride my cock. By now Sasha has recovered from her orgasm and is kneeling beside you, sucking on your amazing breasts and rubbing your clit as you move up and down on my cock. “Let him taste you,” you say as you guide Sasha towards me. She complies and straddles my head, facing you. She lowers her pussy to my mouth as she leans forward and kisses you. It’s all I can do to stop myself from cumming right now! Oh my God this is so fucking amazing! I start to lick at Sasha’s soaking wet cunt, tasting her juices from her previous orgasm. She rocks back and forth on my face, her pussy sliding over my tongue until her ass is in my mouth. She grinds down on me hard as my tongue enters her tight hole. I feel her fingers enter her pussy as I tongue fuck her ass… she moans loudly. My cock twitches as I feel you sliding a finger into your own ass… pressing against the thin wall between your pussy and ass. What a sensation! As you ride up and down on my cock, kissing this woman who’s fucking my tongue with her pussy and ass I let out my own loud moan and fill your hot pussy with cum… there’s so much it instantly begins leaking out of you. You keep riding me until you reach your own orgasm, bucking and grinding as you do. Sasha climbs off my face and gently pushes you back off me and gobbles my cock greedily, sucking and slurping our combined juices from my thick rod. She cleans every last drop and gently starts to stroke it, motioning for you to join her. You both take turns licking and sucking my cock, probing your tongue into the hole in the top as far as you can while gently nibbling the head and shaft. One of you wriggles a finger gently into my ass soaked with your juices and slides it slowly in and out. Holy shit this is intense yet incredible. You both keep sucking and tonguing my cock until it is rock hard again. You move to the end of the bed and bend over, resting your upper body on the bed. I get up and position myself behind you as Sasha spreads your ass. I line my cock up with your pussy and slide into you as she holds you open. I slide in deep, pushing against your cervix with every slow and deliberate thrust. Sasha lowers her head and starts to lick your ass as you moan and bite your fingers. As I pull back my cock pops out of you and straight up into Sasha’s mouth where she hungrily sucks your juices from it before putting it back inside you. We continue this way for a while, me fucking you slowly and deeply and Sasha slurping your juices from my cock and tonguing your tight ass. You begin to push back and meet my slow thrusts, prompting me to speed up slightly. Sasha moves in front of you, spreading her legs wide and pulling your head down to her. You lap at her swollen pussy lips as I pick up the pace and fuck you harder. We all seem to get in sync as I fuck you harder and hard and you eat Sasha’s pussy… we all moan at pretty much the same time as your knees begin to quiver, I cum deep inside you again and Sasha squirts so hard she sprays us both. We collapse in a naked, soaked heap on the bed. You sandwiched between me and Sasha and drift off into a an erotically lust induced sleep. My final thought as I drift off. “I wonder what the morning will bring?” Train Train · Erotic Couplings · I walk into a crowded train and I immediately spot you in the back-sexy as hell-short open jacket and short skirt with boots. I make my way to the back with the guise of making room for others. I catch your eye and we exchange a slight smile. I've maneuvered my way to stand right in front of you. It's been raining so I have on a long trench coat-just got off of work and I'm wearing my best Italian suit. I can tell by the way you look at me that you like what you see. Suddenly the train pulls out of the station with a jolt-you are knocked slightly off balance-I reach under your jacket and around your waist to steady you pulling you close to me. I look into your eyes and without saying a word-I ask you if I should remove my arm-you give no indication that you want me to remove my arm so I continue to bring you closer to me‚ caressing your back with my hand. With my other hand I drape my coat around you. Our eyes stay locked as my hand drifts around just under your breast-waiting for you to tell me to stop-you never do. I realize you have no bra on under your silky top and my thumb finds your nipple already erect. I play with it-running circles around with my thumb and gently pulling. You arch into me giving me the indication you like it and want more I take my hand away and you give me a pleading look. My hand drifts down to your firm ass and I cup it in my hand and bring you in hard to me and you feel my rock hard manhood. A little moan escapes from you and people turn to look-you don't care-I have your complete attention. My hand begins to work your skirt up. I move my leg in between yours encouraging you to spread your legs- you gladly open them. I reach between your legs and can feel your wetness through your panties-I give a sly smile knowing I did that to you. You are so mesmerized by all the feelings -you don't realize I'm working your panties down your leg-It's not until I have you raise your leg that you realize I'm taking them off. Very cleverly I slide them in my pocket. I return my hand to your hot wet velvet in between your legs-rubbing around your pussy lips and finally your hard clit. I'm getting harder and harder-you can feel me throb through my pants. My fingers slips further down until it finds the opening-you instinctively squat a little and my finger slides in. In and out..... As you loose yourself in the feelings you grow weak and I have to support you with my other arm. I can tell you're about to climax-I give you a cocky smile as I remove my hand. Your eyes are begging me to continue-then you realize I'm unzipping my pants. Your begging look almost turns to fear-but you still can't tell me to stop. Our eyes never leave each other-my hand lifts your leg onto the seat beside you-then I'm sure you can't believe what is about to happen. I'm inserting my rock hard cock into your wet pussy-my coat still draped around you. My hand grabs your ass and I push my cock all the way into you-you groan-people look-but once again you don't care. I'm fucking your brains out in a crowded train and neither one of us are aware of the people around us. We don't have to move much-the rocking of the train does much of it for us. As I look into your eyes I can tell you're close to climaxing and it fucking turns me on and brings me on the verge. Just then you whimper and I have to support you. I feel your pussy quiver and I can't hold back - I have an explosive orgasm and cum inside your pussy. We never took our eyes off each other. When we both have caught our breath - I help you straighten your skirt and shirt. I put myself together just as the train pulls to a stop. Your whisper to me breathlessly that this is your stop - I caress your back gently as you pass-you pause- I whisper thank you to you and kiss you on the cheek. Your off the train and you look back at me in the window - we exchange another slight smile. The train pulls away. It's not until you feel my cum running down your leg that your realize - I still have your panties. Arm muscles and face Arm muscles and face · Arm muscles and face Public Nude women in Coonabarabran or surrounding areas I'm looking for country nsw women that secretly want to be naked in public and also love men to watch them piss naked in public in Coonabarabran or surrounding areas ( country areas of nsw- Australia. I'm trying to reach out to horny country nsw women that want this but are afraid someone will find out. Please send me your contact details and phone number. Sex a must.( Coonabarabran). please I'm in desperate need of horny female contact. My email address is pp9195781@gmail.com ( help me please). Your not alone, age and looks not important, public nudity and pissing is- horny females only please send nude photos. Let's meet. - Public Nude women in Coonabarabran or surrounding areas 3 Is A Magic Number 3 Is A Magic Number · Group Sex · It was around 4 P.M I got the phone call from Vanessa. “Hey baby‚” she had said‚ “Maria's going out tonight‚ so how about you come round to my flat and we erm... watch a film?” She said this knowing that I would agree to coming round to hers and that a film would not be going on and even if it did‚ that the pair of us would be naked before we'd even pressed the play button. Vanessa wasn't my girlfriend‚ but that made what we had even more special in my mind. Fucking awesome sex‚ but none of the nonsense in between. Vanessa wasn't conventionally beautiful‚ but she was pretty‚ had pretty average sized boobs‚ 34C at a guess I'd say and she was a size 10/12 and 5'8. But damn did she have a great ass and hips that she swayed so much a rope bridge in a tornado would be impressed. She also had one of the nicest pussy's I’d ever seen‚ tasted or fucked. And she always made sure it was clean shaven in case she had any visitors down south. I headed home so I could shower as I had been out in town‚ getting some food and the like in. Dumping it all in the cupboards and fridge I sprinted upstairs and stripped‚ jumping in the shower. I'm not exactly the tallest or the bulkiest guy‚ but my abs are slightly defined and I work with what I got. As I washed my cock (which is about 7.5 inches) I considered jerking off before going to Vanessa's. Then I thought‚ that she loved the taste of my cum so much that she would just scold me for doing so. The thought of her silky soft lips wrapped around my head and shaft sent a shiver down my spine and planted a grin on my face. She could deep-throat better than any porn-star I’d seen. She would take me all the way in‚ barely gagging‚ and then start swirling her tongue around my balls‚ until I shot cum in her mouth and she sucked me dry. If my cum wasn't in her mouth or pussy‚ she claimed it was wasted. After towelling myself off and getting changed‚ my phone vibrated and Vanessa told me the coast was clear‚ so I could head on over. I put my shoes on and decided to walk the short distance to her house. It was about 7:30‚ so when I was leaving the sky was a nice tint of orange as the sun slowly descended to its resting place on the west of the world. I reached her flat and pressed the buzzer‚ and I was instantly let in. As the door swung open I could hear running. Cautiously I walked through the door shouting “Vanessa?..V?” The reply I got was dipped in honey and sugar “In here darling‚ cum and make yourself cumfortable!” I rounded the corner into her lounge and saw her trim figure draped across the sofa‚ wearing nothing but a black bra‚ stilettos and a mini skirt with no sign of panties underneath. I instantly felt my cock get hard at the sight of her‚ and she looked up‚ fluttering her eyelids and showing me her beautiful green eyes. She flicked her obviously dyed raven black hair and stood up. Sauntering over to me. “Why don't‚” she said still in that honey dipped voice and removing my hoodie and shirt all the while “We get you a little more... Naked?” And with that she ripped the rest of my buttons open and kissed me with such ferocity that she pushed us back into a wall. When my back had connected with a solid surface‚ I began to return the kiss just as forcefully‚ our tongues dancing in a swirl of passion‚ meeting‚ moving away‚ exploring each other’s mouths‚ meeting again and the process continued. As we kissed I could feel her nails‚ like claws dragging down my back and she moaned into my mouth as I brought my hands forward and squeezed her tits together. By now my shirt was on the floor and I decided to make things fair and unhooked her bra. This skill had taken me a while to master‚ as all men know it is a tricky business‚ particularly when you're being turned on and as excited as I was‚ but I managed it and she shrugged her shoulders so it fell to the floor leaving her wonderful breasts exposed. I took full advantage‚ kissing and biting down her neck until I took her right nipple into my mouth‚ sucking it and flicking my tongue at the same time being rewarded with an “ooooo fuck yes Matt... don't stop.” I continued to flick my tongue but instead of sucking I clamped my teeth down hard‚ making her squeal with delight. I kissed my way over to the other breast and she continued moaning‚ undoing my belt and slipping my jeans down‚ rubbing my cock through my boxers. “Well... hello big boy.” She said before pushing me away and dropping my boxers to the same place as my jeans. “Come on Matty... Feed me that gorgeous cock of yours. Then I want you to ram it in my pussy hard!” She squealed running over to the sofa and propping her head on her hands on the arm‚ mouth wide open and eyes closed. I was only too happy to oblige. I walked over to her slowly and quietly. “I'm waitingggg!” she called teasingly. “You're such a filthy slut” I said teasingly and in response she said “I’ll get you for that” At least‚ she tried to‚ but before she could finish‚ I had rammed my cock down her throat and all I got was “I’ll ge -mmm mmmmm.” She began taking me in slowly and I could feel the pulse in my cock get stronger as her warm‚ wet mouth slid up and down my now rock hard cock‚ her hand sometimes following her lips up and down‚ making me closer to cumming all the while. Her other hand gently massaged my balls‚ driving me wild. Then all of a sudden she took my cock out of her mouth and replaced them with my balls instead‚ which is something she'd never done before! The pleasure was immense and it instantly brought me closer‚ having her sucking hard on them‚ her tongue swirling her hand working furiously on my cock when I said “Fuck V‚ you're gonna make me cum!” She stopped just as abruptly as she'd started. “told you I'd get you. Now fuck me pretty boy.” She manoeuvred herself so her legs were spread off the sofa her back resting on it. “Right you are V.” I moved round to position myself right in between her legs‚ but before fucking her I decided to tease her a bit more. I kissed up her thigh gently tracing my tongue all the way up it. “No...stop... you... bastard” she moaned without any conviction whatsoever. I reached her centre and slid my tongue up her now soaking wet pussy‚ which tasted divine. I made it to that magic button that is the clitoris and nibbled it making her grab my head and shove me in further‚ so I let my tongue flick as well “fuckkkk youuuuu!” she exclaimed as her hips bucked involuntarily. I got up‚ and smiled “now how bad do you want me inside you?” “Very bad Matty... pleeeeease fuck me?!” She asked with mock innocence and fluttering her eyelids again. “well as you asked so nicely” And with that I slid my cock inside her dripping pussy. As I felt the heat and tightness of her pussy I let out a groan which was matched by her moan of pleasure “ooo that’s what I wanted... right there. Now fuck me hard!” I began moving my hips backwards and forwards‚ building up a steady rhythm‚ until I was going as fast as I could manage and she wrapped her legs around me. Her pussy contracted and expanded as her orgasm built up even more and I could feel my cock pulsing ready to shoot my load inside her. I struggled to hold it off until she climaxed. Then I had an idea‚ I decided to just gently rub her clit. Gently‚ but quickly. It worked. Her orgasm started. She screamed with pleasure as I felt her pussy tighten and her whole body lock up‚ which in turn made the familiar heat run through me and my balls got hard as I shot my load inside of her six or seven times. “What the hell?!” I turned round. Maria was stood in the doorway‚ looking shocked. “Oh fuck” Vanessa said. I couldn’t quite tell whether that was to do with the size of her orgasm or the fact that her flat mate/best friend was stood in the door way watching her have sex. “Maz‚ I can explain” Vanessa began. “It's quite clear what's going on here Vanessa‚” she said haughtily. “You decided to take advantage of the fact I was out of the flat.” “How long were you stood there?” I asked. “Long enough‚” Maria began “To know that I'm more annoyed that I wasn't invited to this party than I am that you were doing it in my lounge on the sofa where I sit to watch TV!” Vanessa and I looked at each other‚ stunned. “You mean you're not mad?!” “Oh no I am. But I won't be once you two have paid me back. And it starts right now. Matt get your sorry ass over here.” I pulled my still semi-hard cock out of Vanessa and went over to Maria‚ not wanting to waste this opportunity. “Now I'm going to taste that slut's juices off your cock.” And without further ado‚ she dropped to her knees and began licking and sucking me noisily‚ making me hard all over again. She couldn't take me in nearly as deep as Vanessa could‚ but at the same time‚ her tongue work was much better and it felt amazing. Just as I could feel my orgasm building up I heard Vanessa shout “HEY! I want some too!” Maria stopped. “Yeah‚ cos you're a whore. We'll finish this up in the bedroom. Both of you. Come on through.” This was like a dream come true for me. I'd always fancied Maria‚ and now I was going to get to fuck her. Maria was much shorter than Vanessa‚ particularly when V had her heels on. She was about 5'4‚ but her boobs‚ were huge‚ to match her ass. They were 34 G's and they were amazing to see even caged inside a bra. She was of Spanish descent so she had slightly tanned skin all the time and she could even speak a bit of Spanish (even though she was born and bred in south London‚ she still had a twang in her accent). “Now‚ you two‚ Strip me.” We did as we were told‚ Vanessa and I working her body as we took items of clothing off‚ kissing up her body‚ licking and sucking her nipples‚ neck‚ stomach and kissing her every once in a while. Once she was naked she said “Right. Matt. I want to fuck you. But at the same time‚ I want you to lick Vanessa's pussy like you never have before. V‚ you're going to be facing me so I can watch. Matt? Lie on the bed. V‚ over his face. Now please.” We didn't need to be told twice. I lay flat on the bed and Vanessa sat over me. I began to flick my tongue up and down her slit‚ making her moan with pleasure. Obviously satisfied‚ Maria proceeded to sit on my cock and began moving up and down. I could just see her tits bouncing through V's legs‚ making me even harder. The two women moaned louder and louder as they both got closer to orgasming. Maria said to Vanessa “Kiss me!” And as they kissed almost as passionately as Vanessa and I had done earlier‚ I slipped my tongue round to V's anus‚ sliding my tongue inside her making her moan into Maria's mouth even louder‚ before I moved back to her clit licking furiously and bucking my hips to slam my solid cock in to the wet‚ warm hole that was Maria’s pussy. Both women orgasmed simultaneously and this in turn set me off and I moaned into the rush of Vanessa's cum as I squirted my hot cum inside Maria's wetness. She kept going for a while before saying “Vanessa‚ I want to feel your tongue on my cunt. And I want to see him fuck you while you lick me out. So he can do you doggy style... And Matt hunny‚ when you're close‚ I want you to finish in my mouth. Then I'll see what I do with the cum.” We re-arranged ourselves so that I was behind Vanessa and I could see Maria clearly for the first time since our little sexcapade began. Vanessa wasted no time diving head first into Maria's pussy‚ licking and rubbing everywhere‚ making Maria moan loudly and squeeze those huge tits together which got me hard enough again‚ to begin taking Vanessa from behind. Her moans indicated that I was hitting the right spots as I slammed my cock in and out of her again and again. We were all getting worked up into a frenzy. Maria was forcing V's head into her crotch‚ I was slamming my cock into V‚ we were all in a world of pleasure. Then I decided to spice things up. I slid my cock right out of V's dripping wet pussy‚ my cock slippery and warm from all her juices‚ and I pushed it into her ass‚ making her moan louder than she had done all day. Which was an achievement being muffled as she was by Maria's sopping wet cunt. I pushed harder in and finally her ass accepted my rock‚ hard cock and I began slamming into her almost as hard as I had been into her pussy. The tightness was unreal‚ I could feel every fibre of her asshole trying to reject my cock and yet at the same time‚ me forcing my way into her fighting it off. I felt incredibly powerful‚ and very turned on. My hand flew to her clit yet again and I began rubbing‚ which very soon made her cum all over my hand. I then offered my hand to Maria‚ which she sucked gently‚ relieving my fingers of the prized possession that was V's sweet nectar. “I'm getting close Maria‚” I said as I realised that I was beginning to feel my cock tense up just like it usually did before I came. “Come here then. Vanessa keep going. I want to taste his cum and your ass while you taste my cum. I'm too close for you to stop now.” Vanessa groaned and carried on licking and biting‚ making Maria gasp for breath. “Slide your cock into my mouth Matt. I want to taste your thick‚ creamy cum.” I did as she had requested‚ feeling her tongue dart out to flick over my head‚ sending a jolt through my body‚ making me stiffen up even more‚ which I hadn't thought even physically possible. I watched as she gobbled my cock up‚ pushing me into her cheek‚ grazing my head with her teeth but that tongue was what was driving me wild. I squeezed her tits as I said “Fuck Maria‚ make me cum baby‚ please‚ make me cum in your hot mouth.” Maria took my cock right out of her mouth except for my head‚ and sucked hard. She moved her hand up and down my shaft so fast I thought she was going to hit herself in the face but she appeared to be a pro. With one last squeeze of those amazing tits‚ I groaned as I shot my load into her mouth. While the amount of cum had dropped since I had cum twice already in a short space of time‚ there was still a reasonable amount‚ and Vanessa looked up enviously as I spurted in to her friends mouth. Maria beckoned V up to where she was sat on the bed. With a sly look at me‚ they began to kiss passionately‚ sharing my cum between the two of them pushing it between their mouths‚ tongues swirling through it‚ until Maria let it drop on to her tits‚ which she was squeezing together and told Vanessa to lick it off her and feed it back to her. Vanessa did so and saved half of it for herself. They both looked at me and swallowed. “Well‚” Maria said “I can certainly see why she goes on about you. You're good! And you have some of the nicest cum I've ever tasted! Would you like to stay the night Matthew?” I grinned and nodded. Suddenly‚ my fuck buddy was now fuck buddies. I thought to myself “I think I'll come here more often!” and got into bed‚ with the two gorgeous women that I had just fucked and watched eat my cum‚ before drifting to sleep‚ with one of them on each arm. Public Nude women in Coonabarabran or surrounding areas Regional NSW, NSW (AU) · Men Seeking Women · I'm looking for horny women with big tits and bald pussies that love getting fully naked in public in Coonabarabran or close surrounding areas. Please contact me asap, or horny women that love guys watching them piss in public fully naked please contact me asap, there has to be at least one horny women to meet me Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense! I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands. Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air. Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs. Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties. Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face. “What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?” Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.” I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard. I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs. I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river. For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog. The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls. I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think. The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles. John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?” I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus. “Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet. “You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly. “I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?” I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears. The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.” John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?” The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.” “Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.” He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.” “Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.” “It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.” Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?” “We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt. Shivering, I close my eyes. “Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?” “Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad. I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light. “Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall. They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel. John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open. “There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.” Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.” “I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.” “Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.” “Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp. John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.” “Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?” “At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt. Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!” “Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?” “No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening. The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out. “This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.” John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling. John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me. “I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more. “This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.” “My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?” “If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.” Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him. “I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face. “Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips. “Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?” Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue. “You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.” “I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently. “That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.” I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—” “That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.” John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.” I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.” “So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .” “Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.” I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?” The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.” I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.” John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.” I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy. “That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.” “More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John. Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.” “That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?” I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.” I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.” “You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.” I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.” “Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.” The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?” “Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?” John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?” I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee. “You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.” Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in. “Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.” Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works. “Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.” I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.” I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . . My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend. “Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep. “Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.” I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!” He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.” I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts. There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.” I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles. “Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!” “Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out. “I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.” “Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.” I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth. Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers. “Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.” I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly. I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out. John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue. At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit. “Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.” I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.” “Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face. I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.” Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.” I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!” “Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works. “If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.” I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?” Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins. 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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. The Nice Guy who wants to be BAD Regional NSW, NSW (AU) · Casual Sex · I am the nice guy who was the "Invisible Man", the guy who never got noticed by sexy women...the guy who in primary school never received a single St Valentine's Day card, the guy who's first girlfriend cheated on him, but became the guy who joined a dating agency and found that there were 35 attractive slim to medium women with lovely personalities as well in the first two years of membership who adored him, all of whom had consensual sex with him on the first date and continuing until he grew short of money for dating...now of course a little slower, little wiser I am looking for a friend living near me in East Maitland NSW to be on tap for my needs and for mutual satisfaction - of course I admire beauty (all though I admit I am no oil painting), and although I have had so much experience with those sexy, attractive, good looking tall women, I have never had such fun outside of such an agency...I seek your help ladies... Shower Shower · One on One · In the evening‚ while I wait for my lover to arrive‚ I take a shower. It's not that I'm uncomfortable with my own bodily smells. Rather‚ I practice a ritual of deepening nakedness that opens me to the nightfall that awaits‚ so that I can greet him‚ untouched and unadorned. First‚ I unzip my skirt. Unbutton my blouse. Shimmy out of my panties. Unhook my bra. I kick my clothing into a pile and stand before the mirror in the glare of the bathroom light. I remove my jewelry. The hoops from my ears. The bangles from my wrist. The chain from my ankle. I run a comb through my long hair‚ over and over‚ until every snarl and tangle has been freed. I run the tap until the room is steaming‚ then step under the spray. I close my eyes and let the water pulse in my open mouth‚ then run down my chin‚ my neck‚ my back. I sponge off the odor of the day. The grime of the office. The sweat from the checkout line. Liner on my eyes. Plum gloss‚ now faded‚ on my lips. Lotions and potions I applied when I felt fresh that morning. My shampoo leaves a slight lavender scent in my hair‚ my body wash a mild peppermint aftertaste on my belly. I rub my skin with a harsh loofah until it turns red. I massage myself with a plush towel until even the folds between my toes are dry‚ and I dress in baggy pants‚ a sheer camisole. After I greet my lover with a feathery kiss but before our tongues exploring each other's mouths make it difficult to remain standing‚ I ask him to shower‚ too. I don't want to shower with him‚ not yet. I prefer bathing each other between fucking‚ after the candles have grown cold but before light pokes from behind the curtains. Now‚ I want my lover to come to me clean as a newborn‚ the way I come to him. I sit on the toilet and watch him‚ shower curtain parted‚ wash himself as if no one is looking. He‚ too‚ I notice‚ opens his mouth and lets the water fill it. He reaches his hands above his head until‚ vertebrae by vertebrae‚ he has stretched the tension out of his back. The water hits his shoulders and runs in torrents down his ass and thighs. My lover chooses a soft washcloth. He rubs it with unscented soap until it foams with bubbles. He massages tiny circles‚ methodically‚ between his fingers‚ upon his palm‚ along his wrist and forearm and upper arm‚ across his shoulders‚ then down the other side. As he reaches the fingers of the other hand the soap runs out and my hand slides down my pants‚ so I can circle my clit to the rhythm of his bathing. By the time my lover finishes I have undressed. I unfold a towel and offer to dry him‚ inch by inch. This way I can examine the muscles of his arms‚ the curve of his ass‚ the place where the hair runs out on his chest‚ where it begins beyond his thigh. I ask him to lift first one arm‚ then the other‚ so I can collect the drops of water hanging from his underarm hairs on my tongue. I lick and rub until his skin is dry and taut. Then I ask my lover to bend over. This is not because I want to dominate him. No. I want to bury my nose in his ass and inhale deeply. I want to circle his asshole with my tongue‚ slowly‚ so I can taste every inch. I want to run my tongue along that now hard place between his ass and his balls. I want to take each ball in my mouth‚ gently‚ and lick and squeeze it. As I breathe him in and taste him I think perhaps I can give him a fraction of the pleasure he has already given me. I want this quiet‚ almost contemplative moment before he forces his now throbbing cock against the back of my throat‚ before he leads me into the bedroom and fucks me until my head slams the headboard. I like to taste and smell my lover apart from me‚ on his own terms‚ before his cum mixes with my cunt juice. Before our sweat and spit intermingle. Before our rubbing and stroking alter each other's body chemistry. I start with a shower so that‚ as the hours take us from the bed to the table to the chair to the floor‚ with my nose and mouth‚ I can begin to discern the way my lover changes me‚ comprehend the way I change him‚ understand the subtle ways we lovers change each other. Best I ever had Best I ever had · Wives · I remember the best sex I have ever had. It was with my friends sister. She was so hot I've had a biggest crush on her since I've met her. One night I was up late taking a couple shots. And she comes down with her sexy gold and blonde hair I'm bright blue eyes and little booty shorts and tank top. And she comes in touch me the side and I flirting way. Is she does it to 3 times that she walked by on the 4th time. She put my side and rubs her hand across my stomach. Just inches of of my dick line in mind you I'm in gym shorts. So when she did this I slowly reach down, grab her elbow that was the same arm. she tryed to pull away. I'll let her elbow slowly slip from my hand. And are gently crest my hand down her arm until I met her him. At this moment we in a lot hands and look each other in the eyes. And that was when we both felt that fire ignite. We started kissing I'm making out right there. She's slowly starts to backup gripping my face I can't pull away and she Leeds me to her bedroom. Once we get in the bedroom she's slowly drops to her knees and pulls out my hard dick and takes it all the way into her mouth the story goes on more but I think we all know how it is Want to suck your beautiful nectar Want to suck your beautiful nectar · General · This short story of how I would eat your pussy was written just for you. Read it and enjoy it while stroking your sweet wet pussy. I want you to get wet I mean really wet reading about me doing this to you baby. I want your body hurting badly, nipples hard and your clit swollen and throbbing before you insert anything into it. You might even want to print it and lie back on your bed and love your body while you read it. It’s my special gift to you. After undressing each other, we move to the shower and we slowly clean each other enjoying for the first time see and touching each other’s sex. With your back to the shower wall now, I drop to my knees and pull your lower body towards my open and waiting mouth. You Bend forward and moan when you felt my lips and tongue press on your clean sweet tasting pussy and ass from behind. You gladly opened your legs as wide as you can and squat a little by bending your legs for me. I move in further between them so I can move my face into your pussy hole further. You so wanted my mouth and tongue to lick and suck your pussy because it had been so long since anyone has done this to you and you really have missed it. I stop long enough to take in your beautify two holes close up as I examine that sweet long slit and press my nose against it. I inhale your sweet musk before I bury me mouth against lips and they open for me exposing your waiting pussy hole. My mouth and tongue begin to go to work and in seconds, I have you moaning. With your hands pressed against the bathroom tiles, your body starts to shake a little as your excitement builds with the need for more stimulation. You look over your shoulder and down seeing my head up under your body. Oh yes! You whisper as I knee and stay between your thighs licking, eating and using my fingers to stimulate you. The feeling is fantastic and you bend your knees more so I can get even deeper under you as and pussy. You know in a few seconds that I am no ordinary guy who has eaten your cunt in the past. You can tell by the way I have started working on you, that you will have a hell of a set of orgasms very soon. You drift off dreaming of the times I have written you before and what I have told you I want and will do to your body with my mouth, tongue and hands before I fuck you. But, now you are here with me and can actually feel it. Mummm that is so nice baby it feels so good, you tell me as you feel both of my hands go between your legs and under your body. You bend at the knees opening them further allowing me even better access. You feel my hands squeeze your ass cheeks hard and pull them apart as my tongue moves from the top of your pussy under your ass and over your ass. I bit one of your cheeks and make you jump before licking back under your body. Then I push a finger into your shave sweet pussy harder and watch it disappear into your body! I smile as I watch the finger slowly fucking your pussy. I insert my tongue under the finger and it too enters your body. I wiggle both around inside your body and hear you grunt and moan in pleasure. As you moan and bent your legs and squat for me so your pussy is totally accessible and wide open for my pleasure and your own. As I’m being half drown, by the water running down over the front and back of your sexy body, I have to sit up a little and stroke you between your wide-open legs. Licking and sucking your cunt I finally get my tongue over and in between your tight cheeks and lick your ass hole while my fingers have your pussy lips spread wide open and I’m fingering you with the other hand. My fingers continue to make love to both of your holes now that I can touch your ass hole with my tongue. At the position I can’t actually get my tongue in your rose bud w/o getting water down my throat. So I moved back to your pussy and concentrated on making your climax. I know by the way you are pumping and rocking on my face now, that you are just about there anyway. I turn you around and begin to lick up and down your slit while I use my fingers to pull the folds of your swollen pussy lips away from around your clit. As your hood moves away I see your blood-swollen clit sitting there in from of my eyes. It’s huge and throbbing! I move it and press my tongue against it and hear you moan loudly. The clit is rock hard. I softly hum directly on it as I continued to stimulate your holes with my fingers. There are three fingers now inside you pussy and I’m slowly pumping in and out. My other hand has my thumb in your ass hole and I’m rotating it in and out. You moan again louder this time and almost sit on my face as I worked on your sweet pussy. You hold my head with both hands and try to ram my face with your pussy as you begin to scream at me: Suck it baby for God sakes. Suck IT BABY! SUCK MY CUNT! HARDER! You are yelling at me now as your body feels the climax of your life moving into your pussy. You yell: OH YES BABY! OH FUCK YES! SUCK IT. HARDER SUCK IT HARDER! OH GOD! ALMOST THERE SUCK IT! OHHH!! YESSSS!!! HARDER OH YESSSSSS OH YESSSS!! OH SWEET LORD! THAT’S SO FUCKING GOOD! YES! YES! YES! OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSSSSSS! SUCK IT! SUCK IT HARDER! I’M THERE! OH BABY SUCK, ME! HARD I’M THERE! AHHH!! AHHH, AHHH, AHHH, AHHH, AHHH, AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. GODDDDDDDDDDDDD. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! The orgasm was so good! But I know we can do better. I’m having trouble with the water running into my mouth and up my nose so I decide to get us out of the tub and move into the bedroom. I can see you lean back against the wall as you begin to slide down the tiles. I grab your knees to keep you from sliding all the way into the tub. We both stand up and I help you out of the shower so we can dry each other off. We can’t keep our hands off each other and dry the other’s sex playing with it and kissing it over and over again. I lick your snatch one last time and stand up. As we walk back into the bedroom your hand is holding my very hard cock. I watch your body move as you walk and it hardens my cock even more. You can feel it jumping with excitement for you. You think we’re going to fuck and you turn towards the bed, but I have other plans. I move you to the big chair in the room. I walk behind you with my hands on your shapely hips watching your ass as you walk, God I love looking at you. You are so beautiful. I stop you and reach around your body and cup your full hard breasts as I kiss your neck and bit your shoulder. I begin to pull and roll your nipples around with my thumbs and index fingers as you lean back against me. You can feel my hard cock up under your ass rubbing against it. You reach between us and take the hard thick shaft into your hand. As you turn I bend down and suck your nipples into my mouth as your hand begins to stroke my extremely hard cock. As I cup your pussy, we both moan from this pleasure. I suck and bit the nipples as my other hand continues to lift and hold your breasts as if I’m weighing it. Your other hand comes up and cups my head to hold my mouth on your right breast. You whisper in my ear: “Come on baby let’s get into bed and fuck! I want this hard cock inside me.” You squeeze my cock hard and I groan. I bit your nipple making you moan. Finally I back you up as our tongues fuck each other’s mouths. Your knees hit the front of the chair and I push you down in the seat. Immediately, I drop to the floor kneeling in front of you. You’re not sure what I am going to do and watch me as I sit between your legs and open them wider placing one thigh over each arm of the chair. I reach around your body and pulled your lower body to the very edge of the chair. Your ass is almost hanging off the end. Now I move up and suck both of your nipples and cup your breasts one more time letting my cock rub over your swollen pussy lips. You try to reach down and put me in but I stop you saying: “Later! We’ll fuck a little later when we are sufficiently stimulated. Now just lay back in the chair and let your lover show you why I love to eat pussy. Before you can move I place my head between your legs and hold your knees open over the chair. Mumm!! I want that pussy now. And with your long silky smooth legs up over the arms of the big chair and your ass on the edge of the chair lower than your legs, that sweet beautiful pussy of yours is wide open for me to love. I can smell your musk as it floats up into my face! I move down towards I licking my lips. My mouth is actually watering with my anticipation. I look at your magnificent body and see your pussy lips already open from your anticipation and from the loving you received in the shower. Your expected anticipation of what I’m going to do next excites you and stimulates your entire body. Your legs are open so far that the bones in your legs are sticking up hard against your inner thighs next to your pussy! I rub the bones and end my stroke at the sidewalks of your pussy lips. I run a finger up and down your and watch it open and throb with desire. Then moving back down to that very, soft skin on your inner thighs again I softly and very slowly stroke each side of your pussy opening my fingers and teasing you. I can see your wetness oozing out of your cunt. The lips of your pussy are sticking out at me and as I sit between your thighs, I bit and sucked on them. I leave small marks all along the sides of your cunt and thighs. You watch as I kiss you from one inner thigh to the other licking across your pussy very slowly. I can taste your wetness as my mouth slides over your wet hole and my tongue darts in and out very quickly. I feel you arch up out of the chair as you feel my tongue enter you and then leave you quickly. God your pussy hole is wide open and I use my index finger to push in about an inch and watch your hole close around it and squeeze it. Each time I push in I leave it stay in before pulling it out again. Each time I pull my finger out, your pussy hole stays open a little longer. Your entire pussy is shinning with your cum and your excitement. I slow circle your hole and push up and down as I move it in and out on your slit. I feel you arch and lift and I pull my finger out and begin to kiss all around your pussy lips. I don’t want you to cum to fast. You moaned and tried to get hold of my head and try to stop my finger from leaving your hole but you can’t. I move my mouth directly on your cunt and blow warm air on it softly. I see you shiver. You try again to move my head against your sex but I resist. I hear you moan each time that my mouth or index finger comes into contact with your pussy. You watched as I work on your inner thighs and gentle touch your pussy again and again. It’s driving your wild with lust as my lips, tongues and fingers all work on you. Again and again I lick and suck on your wetness tasting you and adoring your cunt until I feel you arch and begin to rock on them again. Then I stop and back off your pussy as I move back down your thighs again waiting for you to calm down a little. I don’t want you to explode – not just yet. I had waited a long time for you to trust him enough to allow me to visit you and have sex with you and now I will make you wait. Wait a long, long time before I let you drive your cunt into my face and fuck my mouth as you achieve orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. God what I really wanted to do is sink my hard cock into your pussy and fuck you hard and fast. Your sexual odor is driving me wild with my own lust. Hell I am so fucking hot for you since the first time we met and now as I love your pussy and see your completely nude in front of me, my cock throbs and jumps with my anticipation. I’m leaking pre-cum all over my legs and on the floor. But, I knew your needs are greater than my own and you require a larger amount of stimuli and stroking before we have sex. So I am going to make this last for a really long time and give you what I know you have needed. You have been searching for a man to suck and fuck you into as many orgasms as you can have that you can stand! You know I will never stop until you have been drained of your orgasms. Plus, I enjoy making you crazy with your sexual need and passionate build up. So, I continue to build your needs higher and higher as the time passes and I stay between your legs stimulating your body. I use my fingers now and slowly stroke your pussy slit up and down, up and down. Then I use my fingers to open your wet smooth lips wider and start to slowly rub your pink insides. I move my free hand down and begin to stimulate your ass hole too. You have already told me you love your ass finger fucked too. So I know I am really going to get to you by playing with your ass hole. And as the moans become louder I hear you sigh and grunt as you feel me work on your pussy and ass hole. I know you are close to Cumming again because I can feel your lower body humping on my hand. I hear your voice as you tell me in a low deep and sexy voice: “Oh yes! Oh please eat me and make me cum. I’m hurting so bad baby. Please!” I smile up at you and say: “In time my love, in time. You know I want to see and touch all of you! I’ll make you cum baby. I’ll make you cum soon! Trust me!” Your lust is so high you look mad now and begin to yell: “You son of a bitch!! Eat my pussy. Dam you. Make me cum. Make me cum now!!” I come up quickly and grab your head with my hands. I kiss you hard on the lips and start to fuck your mouth with my tongue letting you taste your own pussy juices. As I do, my hard cock rubs all over your pussy pressing against your wet and very opened lips. You began to move around and hump on it trying to get it into your aching body and fuck on it. But, I backed off and won’t allow you to put it inside your hole. I break the kiss and ask you: “So you want to cum do you? Are you sure you are ready to cum baby? Do you really want to cum? Do you want me to lick your pussy and make you cum or fuck you and make you cum?” You moaned: “OH GOD I DON”T CARE JUST DO IT.” Then I stop and don’t do anything. I ask you again: Eat you or fuck you first. What will it be baby? You moan: OH FUCK I DON’T CARE. MAKE ME CUM. LICK ME YOU SOB. LICK ME. You see me look you directly in the eye and you moan to me: Oh god baby! Lick me!! PLEASE OH PLEASE, LICK, MY PUSSY! I know your body is screaming for release. You almost cry to me: My body needs to cum so bad. I haven’t had my pussy licked and sucked in such a very long time. Lick me first baby! Then I’ll fuck you wild. Lick my pussy and I’ll fuck you hard and long and make you scream. Oh God! I’m going crazy baby! Lick me! Lick my pussy and make me cum. I smile and kiss your neck and whisper in your ear: Now! Now it’s your turn to cum baby! I’m going to lick you now and make you cum! You moan and say, oh yes. As you do you push my head gently back into your body telling me you want my mouth lower on your body. I lick down and take each of you tits one last time before moving back down your body. Taking each nipple into my mouth and sucking on them you moan and push on my head. As I move in front of your open thighs, I can see your pussy shinning at me. God!! It’s almost dripping on the chair. You are that wet. My face is only an inch from your snatch. I’m so close I can feel your body heat on my face. I take another big breath and love your odor that’s coming from between your wide-open legs. Using my hands, I push your legs up the arm of the chair opening them even wider and I bury my face. You cry out as my mouth circles your cunt again. You can feel shocks of pleasure rippling through your body and hitting directly against your pulsing throbbing clit. Thrill after thrill seems to shake your body and make you shiver with delight! As your hands guide and hold my head against your hole, you want to squeeze your thighs tight against my head. But you don’t because you want to give me all the space I need to work on your pussy and you want to feel everything I’m doing to your body. You keep your thighs wide open and resist the urge to squeeze them against my head. You give me the free and complete access I require. You want to close your eyes but don’t. You have to see what this new man in your life, which has his face between your legs, is going to do next to your pussy. And you really do want to cum so bad. I continue to suck your hole and then I surprise you and suck your entire pussy into my mouth and hum all over it as my tongue fucks and licks around it. Like a small vibrator stimulating your pussy my humming makes you lift your ass up off the bed and I can feel you leaking more of your wetness on my face. As I lap up your juice like a dog I can feel your heat and your passion on my face. You begin to cum and as the orgasm hits your body, you yell out: “OH FUCK YES. EAT ME BABY. OH THAT”S IT!! YES. OH FUCK YES. OH GOD I”M GOING TO CUM BABY! OH SHIT. EAT ME!! OHHH. . FUCK. . YESSSSS. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” I look up with out taking my mouth off of your pussy and I see your beautiful face showed your agony, your want, your need, your lust and your rapture as you rock and rock against and on mouth fucking it and Cumming and Cumming and Cumming for me. I smile as I see your back arch and your hips and legs lift your pussy up and as you hump on my face I know your having a great climax! I continue to eat your pussy sucking and licking it as your orgasm sends a huge load of your cum into my mouth and over my face. . The pleasures from my mouth and tongue are so great your breath comes in gasps now, as you pressed your soft pussy lips hard into my mouth. Moaning Fuck yes baby that so good! You press harder and harder and harder against my face as your body rotates and pumps and thrusts against my lips and tongue. You would like to shove my entire head up into your pussy hole. God!! You would take my entire body inside you so it could fuck all of you and you could fuck all of me. You begin panting now like an animal in heat. You moan: “Oh yes. Oh yes baby, suck it. Suck me baby. Suck my pussy! God it’s so good. Suck me. Suck me. Suck me. Oh fuck yes! OH FUCK YES. YES! YES! YES! YES! S U C KKKK MEEEEEE. BABYYYYYYY. I’M GOING AGAIN. Your body lifts again as another orgasm washes over you directly behind the first one. Suddenly you began to shake and shiver as your vagina pulses and throbs against my sucking mouth. I know what is coming and prepare for your attack. I know from what you have told me that you will go crazy when you begin to get off back to back to back. So I put my arms under your legs and hold your hips with both hands as I press my face tight against your swollen sex and suck your pussy hard with my lips. Your body trembles more and more as you begin to reach another climax. You yell my name as you cum screaming at me: “EAT ME!!!! SUCK ME!!! OH GOD LOVE ME!!! OHHHBABY!! MAKE ME CUM!! I’M THERE!! I’m THERE!! I’M THERE!!!” As you work your pussy all over my face your body screams for more release. You moan out in a deep horse voice I can hardly recognize: “HARDER!!! SUCK ME HARDER!! OH GOD HARDER BABY!! SUCK ME!! SUCK ME HARDER!! SUCK ME H A R D E R!! OH YES!! OHHH!! I’M THEREEEEEEEEEEEEE.” You bit your lip and drew blood from the pure pleasure. I continue to suck on your pussy. Your free hand holds my head so tight I fell that I might drown from your cum pouring out of your hole. But I keep on sucking. To keep from crying out any louder, you put your fist in your mouth and scream into it. Your thighs quivered and shake and you gasped for breath. Crying out to me now: “SUCK ME!! SUCK ME!! SUCK MEW HARDER!! YOU HAVE TO SUCK ME HARDER! HURT ME BABY!!. SUCK ME!! SUCK ME!! SUCK ME!! SUCK ME HARDER!!! OHHH GOD BABY!! HARDER! HARDER! HARDER DAM IT!! OHHH YES!!! LIKE THAT!! JUST LIKE THAT!! AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHH, YESSSSSSSSSS. JESUS!! THAT’S IT!! OH GOD YES!! THAT’S IT!! YESSSSSSSSSS, YESSSSSSSS, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! Your vagina is throbbing with each beat of your heart. We can both feel the blood pulsing through it. Your desire and lust are so bad now it’s almost painfully as I continue to stimulate you. You are so worked up, you have coated my face completely with your cum. And pumped and rammed into my face so hard you might be hurting me. But, you don’t give a fuck. All you care about is Cumming and climaxing to release that monster inside you. You’ll go crazy if you don’t keep on Cumming. You must keep Cumming. But, I know about you and your need. I know what you want, what you need. You told me remember? Your need to cum is tremendous. You are thinking to yourself: God his tongue is like a devil inside my body. Your swollen clit stuck out like a rock and I use my lips to give it quick and fast sucks I suck directly on it, teasing it, making you scream as I stimulate you more and more, like you haven’t been worked on in many years. I bring you closer and closer to yet another huge and wonderful climax. Again your breath gets caught in your throat and a strong orgasm runs like a train over your body. I feel you lift your ass up off the chair again and I insert three fingers deep inside your pussy while I suck hard on your clit. Your hips lifted off the chair as your legs help leverage it high in the air. I feel your body violently shank as your need and lust are almost screaming in my face. You feel my tongue touch your clit directly and press hard against it. You body continues to shake violently as your body closes on yet another orgasm. I can tell you are ready for more and my fingers attack your pussy finger fucking it faster and faster. Then with my other hand I insert my thumb up into your ass hole again. That’s it. That was what you needed what you wanted!. That was all it took for you to go wild and begin to fuck wildly on my hand and face as they press into your snatch. You begin to go absolutely crazy fucking anything and everything your body comes into contact with. You go off over and over and over again and again and again, Cumming one load after another covering my hands and face and the chair. God you can’t seem to get enough now. It’s so fucking good. Like a rocket your body slams hard into my face almost knocking me backwards. I hang on to your hips which are thrusting hard into my face and fucking on my 3 fingers deep inside your hole. 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