This is my first attempt at a stand alone story as previous efforts have been extensions to another writer’s work. As I don’t have a writer’s imagination I’ve had to rely mostly on memory. I do like to hear from readers, even the illiterate uncouth idiots who proliferate on these pages. You know who you are.
My name is Tim, I was born in 1938 so this all took place a very long time ago. So long ago that most readers can’t remember the time, or weren’t even born. The world was a very different place in the late nineteen fifties, so different that it seems like a kind of reverse science fiction, particularly in England, where I live. You might not believe this story anyway, but there’s no chance at all unless you take on board a little of what life was like in those days.
It was horrible. The only saving graces were; that it was the same for all of us, so envy wasn’t a problem, and it was just a little better than the previous decade. For a start, food rationing didn’t end till 1954 and was a very recent memory. Oriental, or even European, food was unknown to us. English cooking was world renowned as being awful. We were a bit offended by this but, looking back, the rest of the world was right. My first attempt at eating “foreign”, in 1957, was a disaster. My mate and I did something incredibly brave for a pair of teenagers (not that this word had been coined then). We took the overnight train from the Midlands to London to see the big city. It was amazing. Especially so when we found a Chinese Restaurant in Soho, probably the only one in the UK. The height of sophistication! We ordered what was probably the most authentic Chinese meal I’ve ever had. Beautifully served on many little porcelain dishes, the smell, sight and taste were utterly revolting. Long after that we had a standing joke that, if we smelled a foul odour, one of us would say “Chinese food” and we’d fall about laughing. I’d love that meal now.
Socially, it was pretty well unchanged since the First World War, never mind the one we’d just finished. A night out meant going to the pictures (movies) or to a dance. Drinking was a problem for those who liked a drink, as I did even then. No supermarkets. The only place to buy alcohol was the pub. Pubs were owned by breweries and each only sold the beer of that brewery. A lot of it was crap.
The pub only opened for two hours during the day and from 6.00 pm to 10.00 pm. Laughably, the last drink was served at a second before 10, and all glasses were collected at a second after 10. This was known to cause friction, and bad tempered drunks spilled into the street all at the same time.
Everything was drab. The few cars on the road were black, clothes were in dull colours. The plastics that gave us bright carry bags, rain coats, and so on had not yet been invented. Young men had no place in society. I mentioned earlier that teenagers were not yet invented, there was no teenage culture, language or market. We were just reproductions of our fathers, dressing the same and pretty much acting the same.
My own life was a part of this. I had a good education at a severely selective, though Local Authority managed, Grammar School, and I thought of myself as advanced for my years and pretty sophisticated. The reality was that I was incredibly naive.
Sex did not exist. Well of course it did, but it wasn’t seen, talked about in polite society, or recognised in any educational context. ‘Dirty Mags’ had just begun to be imported from the USA and sold under the counter in seedy back street shops. These seemed pretty exciting but wouldn’t be recognised today. All the ladies, who were clearly not very young, wore big knickers and had black stars printed across their nipples and navels.
In our world any young lady who became pregnant, and couldn’t get a fellow to marry her immediately, was going to have a pretty rough time. She could expect, at best, social ostracism, probably the forcible removal of her baby for adoption, and even, in some cases, incarceration in a Mental Institution on the grounds that she must be unhinged to allow herself to get into such a predicament. Meantime, the father of the child just vanished into the background. I said you wouldn’t believe it!
Lads bragged about their sex lives, which, like all bragging was doubtless far more in the mouth than in reality. Girls didn’t admit to anything. Looking back, it’s a mystery to me that any girl would go for it in view of the likely penalty. Some of them did though. One such in our neighbourhood was called Gwen the Bike (everybody rode her). She provided my first grope. It was in a dark alleyway, (we had a lot of these because street lighting was still extremely sparse). I was about fifth in line and I got to squeeze a naked breast. This was pretty wild. For years after that I associated tits with the smell of vinegar, because the lads before me had been eating fish and chips, out of newspaper wrappings, with their fingers.
Coming back to the present, it did surprise me quite recently, whilst talking about our youth, over a beer with a bunch of similar Oldies, that when I confessed to having been a 21 year old virgin, that turned out to be a pretty average experience for the group.
I hope that’s enough background and, if you’re still with me, I’ll get on with the story.
So, I was 21, I’d had a few girlfriends although this wasn’t a major part of my life. Generally I preferred to go to the pub with my mates. My groping had progressed to the extent that my fingers had become acquainted with most of the interesting parts of female anatomy. I’d even enjoyed slim cool fingers wrapped round my dick. That was it though. I’d never heard of cunnilingus or fellatio or anal sex, and wouldn’t have believed any of them if I had..
Then I met Ann. She was a gorgeous blond with a curvaceous body and of such beauty that I would normally have regarded her as being too far out of my league to approach. The circumstances were special though. I mentioned earlier that pubs closed at 10 pm: well, we were no more ready for bed at that time than we would be now, so people had parties. My mother, a single parent, was to be away for the Easter Holiday leaving me with a party venue, i.e. a whole house for a whole weekend. My special mate and I spent a Saturday lunchtime in the pub planning how to staff this party. Blokes could be relied upon to turn up in great numbers, and a few might bring girls, but overall there would be a shortage of the fairer sex, there always was. So, when the pub closed we went to a coffee bar to chat up girls. Nothing particularly new in that, but this time we were on a mission. Every time a pair of girls came in (they ALWAYS came in pairs) we descended on them with an invitation to this fabulous party. This USP, plus the beer I’d drunk, gave me more confidence than usual and I had none of my usual shyness. Our success was surprising. We got about eight promises. When Ann came in with her friend Barbara, I went for her with all charm firing. It seemed to work and we spent the rest of the afternoon chatting. I was in no doubt as to my preference and George, who was a far more accomplished fanny magnet than I, was gentleman enough to concentrate on the ugly one and leave Ann to me. She couldn’t get to the party but we made a date, just she and I, for the following week. I couldn’t believe my luck.
Thus began my first serious courting.
I was ready to lose my virginity, but had little idea how to go about it. Ann was going to make me work for it. It took a few weeks but eventually she helped me in. It turned out to be easier than I’d feared and I took to it in a big way.
We were an exclusive couple from the start and I had no doubt that I was in love. Her parents had some reservations about me because they thought I was a bit posh. I had a car! (I hadn’t really but my mother had and she let me borrow it in the evenings). By contrast, my mother adored Ann and was as proud of her as I was.
Our courtship progressed predictably and Ann didn’t become pregnant although we took frightful risks. I considered myself to be quite a stud, though our sex was exclusively missionary position, and neither oral nor anal were ever mentioned. I’d never seen her naked. Did I mention that I was naive?
After a year had passed we talked about going away on holiday together, just the two of us. MAJOR! The parents were approached and gave their blessing. Sleeping arrangements were not discussed as it was self evident that we would book two single rooms.
A week in Bed and Breakfast accommodation in Guernsey was booked, plus, to the amazed envy of our friends, a flight in an aeroplane. For non Brit readers, Guernsey is one of the Channel Islands, in the Atlantic well south of England and a lot nearer to France.
Ann bought a bikini. These had recently reached England and were thought to be daring. At that time though they were quite modest with big knickers and coverall bras.
The day came. We caught a bus to Birmingham Airport and, without any of the delay and fuss of modern air travel climbed up into our ‘Pionair’. This was a wartime C47 Skytrain or Dakota, only with seats put in. It had no soundproofing or pressurisation and was a totally uncomfortable experience. Ann was quite ill.
Guernsey is very small and it’s only town, St Peter Port, is also small. It took no time to find our B & B, or indeed anything else.
Ann’s bedroom turned out to be identical to mine and immediately above. I tested the stairs for squeaks and they passed. Did I mention naive? The thought of sleeping together simply did not arise, our life’s conditioning wouldn’t allow it. I did though, go to her room to help her unpack.
For the first time I removed every stitch of her clothing and we made love in full comfort. Still missionary, but marvelous.
Each day we went to a different beach. Being an island it has many. We were desperately short of money and sitting on a beach was free. We swam. We tried surfboarding, without much success as we could afford only one go. Mostly we just sat and enjoyed the sun. Ann became quite brave and would roll down the top of her bikini bottoms to expose more of her tummy. Each day it moved further down until there was imminent danger of some pubic hair peeping over. This was obviously the limit.
On the fourth day we were on a small enclosed and uncrowded beach when our life was forever changed.
A man walked along the beach in front of us. He was a lot older than us, possibly in his late twenties, he might even have been thirty. Tall and dark with wavy hair, he was so tanned that we imagined him to be an Islander. He was very muscular and was wearing the smallest swimming trunks we’d seen. Pretty impressive all round. As he passed us he flashed a brilliant smile of perfect white teeth and made some friendly remark before walking on.
We watched him walk away and I thought Ann was looking rather particularly at his bum. Nothing was said though. Twenty minutes later he was walking back towards us. As Ann had her eyes shut I nudged her and said, “He’s coming back.” Ann didn’t ask who, but I noticed her move her position slightly and her breasts magically became a little more prominent. I was quite entertained.
As he approached it was apparent that he was heading directly at us and not passing by. His 10,000 watt smile beamed towards us and, as he arrived he bent to shake my hand, and then Ann’s and said “I’ve surveyed the entire beach very thoroughly and you two are the only interesting people to be found, may I sit with you?” At the same time, and without awaiting an answer, he plonked himself on the sand. He was so charming we could do no other than smile a welcome. In no time we seemed to be great friends and were talking animatedly about our life in the English Midlands and his on the island. The afternoon passed rapidly and, though we were both a little reluctant to leave Pete, as he’d introduced himself, our evening meal was calling. We were starting to gather our few things together when he suggested meeting again the next day, when he would like to show us another another beach. We agreed and arranged a time and meeting place.
During the evening we ate and had a couple or three beers whilst chatting about the day and about Pete. Did I mention I was naive? I didn’t feel remotely threatened and was looking forward to meeting Pete again just as much as was Ann.
That night I sneaked up the stairs to Ann’s room, we had our usual sex and I sneaked back down to my own to sleep.
Next day we met Pete and found he’d come in a car. This was nice, we could go anywhere on the island, but, as we knew nothing about the best places we just let Pete take us where he wanted. The beach he took us to was pretty much like the one where we’d met him, but I suppose most beaches are pretty much like that, so we settled down for the day. It was all very relaxed. We chatted, dozed in the sun, chatted some more, had an ice cream, just like an average couple on holiday except that there were three of us.
Pete gradually asserted a position as ‘leader of the pack’. We were happy to be lead as he had all the local knowledge, all the interesting chat, and a fascinating persona that had us, to a degree, in awe. We felt privileged that he should want to spend so much time with such an ordinary couple. When he briefly left us for nature’s needs we talked about him and had similar views of our indebtedness.
After lunch, from a caravan stall, we returned to the beach and settled down again.
The sun was pretty hot and Ann was doing her trick of rolling down her bikini knickers to expose as much as possible for tanning. Pete watched this with amusement. “It could go lower you know.” he said. Ann giggled, “Oh no, hairs will start showing if it goes any lower.” Pete smiled “That can be fixed you know.” What do you mean?” asked Ann. “I’m a barber,” replied Pete “I’m an expert in the painless and neat shaving of body hair.” “You can’t mean that!” “Surely I do. It has a lot of advantages you know, you’ll feel comfortable, it’s hygienic, Tim will love how you look, and he won’t get hairs stuck between his teeth.” This just cracked us up. We fell about laughing and it was a while before we composed ourselves. Then Ann asked, with a twinkle in her eye “And would you do it for me here on the beach?” Then it got interesting: “No, of course not,” he said, “my flat is just behind us, in fact the car is parked right outside it and we can walk there in three minutes.”
I couldn’t believe the way this conversation was going and still thought it was a great joke.
Then Ann asked “how long would it take?” Pete didn’t turn a hair, it was just as if he’d expected a positive response. “It depends on the strength of the growth. Most blondes have downy hair that’s very easy to remove, so ten minutes max.”
“I’m not really a blonde,” Ann giggled, “but it is pretty soft.” This was news to me. Not that it was pretty soft, I knew that, but that she wasn’t really blonde. I thought the difference in colour was because the hair on her head was exposed to the sun. Ditto the darker tinge to the roots.
Whilst I was pondering on this I found we’d stood up, collected our stuff, and were walking up the beach, still wearing our costumes. I had no recollection of agreeing to this, it just seemed to happen.
His flat was small but well appointed, smart and clean, and we were quite impressed. He sat us at his table and offered us a drink of tea, coffee or beer. My weakness had been exposed so I had a beer. Pete meantime busied himself getting his gear together. It appeared that he’d been telling the truth as he had a full complement of Barber equipment.
“I’m going to need your help for this Tim.” said Pete. What? Had we agreed to do it? I didn’t remember that either. In fact the whole thing seemed to be getting away from me.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked weakly.
“Come in here. both of you.” said Pete briskly as he walked through a door into what was obviously his bedroom. He got busy plumping pillows into a pile at the top of the bed and spreading towels.
“Nip up here Tim.” he instructed, “Ease yourself back against the pillows and prepare to hold Ann steady.”
I did as told and lay back, very comfortably against the pillows. Pete then directed Ann to sit in front of me between my legs, leaning back against my chest, with her legs towards the end of the bed. She’d removed her sandals so all she was wearing was her bikini.
Ann snuggled in. I could smell her hair and nuzzle her neck. My arms were around her naked waist. Naturally I started to get an erection and it was uncomfortably trapped. Ann giggled again, she’d been doing rather a lot of that these past few minutes. “Why don’t you get comfortable?” she asked, easing herself forward. I don’t know why I wasn’t covered in shyness and embarrassment, but I pushed her forward to make room and removed my swimming trunks. Ann lay back again and we wriggled until we found a perfect fit. All the time Pete was watching us with a friendly, totally non-threatening smile.
“You will need to make her feel comfortable and secure. Hold her steady. A good way might be to hold her breasts.”
I quite liked this idea so I grabbed them and started to give them a little massage. Getting into the mood, I realised it would take only one snap of a fastener to undo the bra. In an instant it was gone and we were skin to skin.
“That’s the way, Ann, why don’t you twist round and share a kiss? That will relax you even more.”
She did. I bent forward, still holding her breasts and our lips met. As our mouths opened and our tongues linked I continued to stroke her breasts and rub her nipples. My dick was really hard and was resting against her lower back with my balls just above the crack of her bottom. We’d never done this before. I liked it. So, apparently did Ann. We carried on kissing, stroking, and slightly undulating our bodies together until Pete spoke again.
“Time to start.” without another word he bent over the end of the bed, took a grip on either side of Ann’s bikini bottom and started to pull. Ann lifted her bottom to help, which eased the pressure for a moment on my dick. As she settled back I was even more comfortable. I was really enjoying this! Did I mention I was naive?
Now Ann was entirely naked, lying back against me, also naked, whilst Pete was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed looking up at Ann’s body. I couldn’t see anything of Pete below the waist. I presumed he was still wearing his trunks because I hadn’t noticed him remove them. Mind you, I had been somewhat otherwise engaged recently.
Pete had a pair of scissors in his hand. “You have to open your legs Ann, so I can get the rough off.” he ordered. Ann complied without hesitation and he snipped away for a few seconds.
“There you go! That didn’t hurt a bit did it?” he proclaimed jovially as he brought up from the floor at the bottom of the bed a pan of warm water, a shaving brush and a piece of soap.
“Wider.” he said as he began to slosh foam around all over her crotch. “Now lift your legs so I can reach lower.” This was a surprise to me. Her anus was down there. We didn’t talk about things like that except in rude and ribald male only company.
Ann lifted her legs and grasped them just below the knee to support them. A little more sloshing about and then Pete produced a razor. This was terrifying. Not electric, not safety, a great bare blade. “Hold her tight.” he told me, “Keep still.” he told her, then he started to work. First her lower stomach, then each groin, then inwards towards her private parts. I began to relax again as he clearly was the expert he claimed to be. Of course, I couldn’t see much of what he was doing once he got below the round of her stomach, but from the angle of his arms I guessed he was shaving her labia, and then he went lower, to her anus. Ann was just a little tense but was concentrating on keeping still.
Part 5: Home Again
You’re supposed to be able to find forgetfulness in a bottle. And I tried. I succeeded, too, but only temporarily. Drinking and zoning out in front of the TV worked okay until the late night news program came on and they started to discuss sexual harassment on the job, with a special focus on the “under-recognized problem of male victims.” As the guest was pointing out that men can be coerced into sexual acts, I was skeptical. I almost said out loud, “Yeah, like you have to force a guy to have sex.” And then I realized that, of course, I was a victim of the very thing they were talking about. And, that was the end of my blissful oblivion. I was once again very conscious of what I had done these last two Friday afternoons.
As I thought about what had happened, my mind flooded with images–images of the crucial moments: when I had made the decision to go through with it; when I made the first move toward Murphy; when I dropped to my knees in front of him; when I unzipped his pants; when I first touched his cock; when it first slipped past my lips; when he pumped his load in my mouth; and, most embarrassingly, when I’d come in my pants.
And then I was hard. Not *getting* hard. I *was* hard as I could be and I needed to cum. I unzipped my pants and took my cock in my hand. I could tell that I wouldn’t need to do anything fancy to shoot off tonight. A few quick strokes and I would be spurting all over my chest. But as I got close to an orgasm, I grabbed a beer bottle with my other hand and shoved the neck of it in my mouth. I thrust it in and out of my mouth in the same rhythm that I stroked my cock and, within a minute, I was spurting cum all over my shirt. It felt so good to shoot so hard.
I guess I whacked off five of six more times over the weekend. Some times were pretty perfunctory–a quick jack off to relieve the pressure. Other times, I was really creative–undressing in front of the mirror and caressing my body before a long, sensuous stroking session. Once, I took a cucumber out of the fridge, got on my knees in front of the full-length mirror on my bedroom door and sucked on the cucumber while I stroked myself. I shot my load onto a plate which I promptly licked clean. I had never masturbated like that before. I found the fact that I chose to do it worrisome but, even more, I found the experience intensely pleasurable.
Part 6: Week Three in the Office
The next week, I resolved to avoid the Friday summons to Murphy’s office no matter what. I busted my butt pushing clients to order that week. I promised things I was pretty sure I couldn’t deliver; I pressured potential buyers; I even overspent my expense account–thus committing myself to pay personally for the overcharges–in an attempt to seduce what larger buyers I still handled to order now. It was all to no avail. The cards seemed stacked against me. Murphy moved another of my big accounts to another guy in the office. His memo announcing this informed me, and every other guy in the office, that despite my couple of bad weeks recently I had “a proven ability to take a small account and, using a hands-on approach, turn it in to a large one, eventually bringing the relationship to a successful climax.” Murphy expressed his confidence that I “would soon work my magic on whatever he put in my hands.” This was all very embarrassing to me and I wondered if any of the other guys recognized the double meaning that was clearly intentional.
But, of course, no one could have avoided failure, at least in the short term, with the accounts Murphy left me with and it was no surprise to anyone in the office that I was the one getting the dreaded call that Friday afternoon. I went in there thinking I knew the drill. I was wrong–at least with respect to a crucial detail.
“I’m seeing you in here every week, Wilcox,” Murphy bellowed. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like this job?”
I started to explain why my numbers were so bad this week, forgetting for a moment that Murphy hated nothing more than excuses, or anything that sounds like excuses.
“Just shut up, Wilcox, before you really piss me off.” Murphy was getting up out of his chair now and moving to the front of his desk. I knew what was coming next (or maybe I should say who was coming next). I was resigned to it at this point. I got up and started to walk toward him.
“Wait,” he stopped me. “I want you to drop you pants.”
“What?” I was stupefied. What the hell was this all about?
“You heard me, Wilcox. Or don’t you care about your job anymore?”
“But…” I couldn’t get another word out and Murphy didn’t need to. I knew that there was no appeal from his decision–no reconsideration.
Before two weeks ago, I had never really thought about sex with a man and I’d certainly never touched another man’s penis. Now, I’d been on my knees in front of Murphy twice, with his hard cock shooting off in my mouth. Still, I think the most difficult thing I’d done up to this point was to unbuckle my belt and unbutton my pants. When I unzipped them, they slipped to my ankles by themselves. Now I was standing in front of him looking completely ridiculous, my pants down and my boxers showing under my shirt tails.
“Unbutton your shirt.” And no sooner had he commanded than I obeyed.
“Now drop your shorts.” I paused and he repeated the order in a tone that left no room for disobedience, at least by anyone who expected to be employed here next week. I put my thumbs inside the waistband and pushed them down. It was clear the Murphy wasn’t satisfied with what I was doing until my shorts were around my ankles with my pants.
Thank God I wasn’t hard. I would have died from embarrassment. I think the demand that I undress in front of him really killed the tendency I had to get an erection during these Friday encounters.
“Good. Now get on you knees and get to work. I think you know the drill.”
I did, of course, at least from this point on. It turns out to be kind of hard to get on your knees when you’re hobbled by your pants and underpants. But I finally got down on my knees in front of Murphy and began my duties.
In a strange way, I was relieved to be doing this. My nakedness was largely hidden from him and I was back in “familiar territory.” I wrestled out his cock and got to work sucking him off. Like last week, I decided to try to get this over as quickly as possible. I had him fully hard really quickly. Maybe he got a jump start from today’s special preliminary activities. If so, I’m betting it had little to do with seeing me naked and a lot to do with the power for forcing me to drop my pants for him.
I pumped his cock with one hand and held his large, hairy balls with my other. As I was working my mouth over his cock I became aware of my growing hard-on. I wasn’t just slightly engorged, my cock was standing out ninety degrees from my body now. As I moved back and forth on Murphy’s cock I could feel my own bouncing up and down.
“Oh, God,” I thought, “Please, God, don’t let Murphy see.”
I looked up and saw that Murphy was caught up in his own reverie. I resolved to keep him in such a state that he didn’t even think about my feelings. He grabbed my head and began thrusting deep into my mouth, trying to open my throat. I was in no position to pull away. That would only cause him to look down and see my shame. So I let him fuck my mouth and, then, my throat. I struggled to control my gag reflex and eventually got it under control and simply opened my throat to his thrusting.
I could feel his pubic bone pounding against my lips. He was completely in me now and enjoying the way my throat convulsed around his throbbing cock.
It didn’t take much of this before he was erupting straight down my throat. And I was erupting all over his pants legs and shoes. “Oh my God,” I thought, “there is no hiding it now.” Murphy hadn’t looked down yet. But he would and then he would know. He’d know that I came just from sucking his cock and having him cum in my throat. This time I couldn’t even tell myself that it was the friction against my pants that had made me cum. My cock was thrusting against thin air.
The inevitable happened. Murphy recovered enough to look down and, when he did, he pushed me away from him. My dick was rapidly softening but the evidence of its arousal was all over Murphy’s pants, his shoes and the floor around his feet. He couldn’t miss it. And he didn’t.
“Jesus Christ, Wilcox! What the hell did you do?”
I had no answer so I said nothing.
“Jesus Christ! Clean that up.”
For a dreadful moment, I was afraid he was going to say, as people always do in the porn stories on the Internet, “with your tongue.” Fortunately, he wasn’t into that. Or he just didn’t think of it. I got up and shuffled a few feet to get some tissues from the holder on his desk. Then I fumbled getting down on my knees again to clean up my mess.
When I had done as good a job as I could, Murphy just told me to get out. The tone of disgust in his voice was unmistakable. I got up, pulled clothes together and left the office as quickly as I could. If you had told me either of the last two Fridays that today I would leave Murphy’s office without a cum stain rapidly spreading in my pants, I would have thought that this would be a good thing. As it turned out, I didn’t know if I could show my face at work next week.
Part 7: Confidential Information
To make matters worse, one of my co-workers, Tim, called to me as I was trying to leave. He wanted to ask me a favor, and that required me to stand there and listen. Maybe it was a good thing that Murphy had made me do him with my pants down. There was no way I could have hidden a huge cum stain from Tim while he talked with me.
It turned out that his car was in the shop and he needed a ride home. I lived in the same general direction and I wasn’t doing anything else for the night since Steph was out with the girls tonight. So there was no real reason not to give Tim a lift home even though I think I would have rather just been alone.
On the way to Tim’s house, he suggested stopping by a bar for a drink. I hesitated and he pressed the issue so I gave in and agreed. Maybe it would do me good, I thought, to do something normal like this and not go home to brood about the implications of my actions and responses.
We wound up staying at the bar a long time and drinking more than we should have. It was nice to have a respite from my dark thoughts. We talked about sports, women and work and it was all a great relief until the discussion or work turned to my recent “bad numbers.”
“So, Jason, you’ve been on the carpet in Murphy’s office three times in a row.” I could feel my face turn crimson. I didn’t know how to respond. But, of course, everyone else in the office had been called into Murphy’s office for bad numbers. So I didn’t really think I had to be secretive with Tim. And, the alcohol was loosening up my tongue a bit.
“Jesus, Tim,” I began. “You wouldn’t believe what the old man made me do today.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He made me pull down my pants and underpants before I sucked him off?”
“You heard me,” I said as if it was a funny story to tell on Murphy. “He made me take my pants down before giving him a blow job.” And Tim just looked at me, aghast.
It was only then that I began to realize that something was very wrong. I was still trying to make sense of it–to figure out what I had been misunderstanding when Tim broke out laughing.
“You sucked him off?” he said incredulously. “I mean, you *really* sucked him off?”
“Well, yeah,” I stammered. “You know that.” He didn’t say anything. He just continued to look at me with disbelief, so I rambled on. “You know I was the low seller for the last three weeks. Well, the last two weren’t really my fault,” I was beginning to feel like I had something worth saying so I forged on. “I mean, Murphy took away Electronic Warehouse so I really couldn’t do much after that.”
I don’t think my explanations were even registering. Tim took a long draw on his beer and then began talking while he shook his head slowly.
“You stupid shit! For a relatively smart guy, you really don’t get it do you?” Tim paused but I didn’t know what to say so there was a long silence. “Did you think that people were really sucking Murphy off?” Okay, I’m slow about some things but then it was crystal clear what my mistake had been. I really didn’t need him to go on. But that didn’t stop Tim.
“‘Sucking Murphy’s dick’ was just slang for having to go in and smooth over his feathers. I mean, if we had said ‘smooth over his feathers’ would you have looked to see where his feathers were.” Tim thought that was funny. I didn’t. And I didn’t see what would have been gained by me pointing out that everyone knows that Murphy doesn’t have feathers but he most certainly does have a dick–a fact I was intimately familiar with.
“You really sucked him off?” Tim said *yet again*. Really! How many times did he need to hear this? Okay, I made a stupid mistake. Couldn’t we just let the topic drop and get back to talking about other things. The answer to that unasked question was, of course, ‘no’.
I really couldn’t talk too much after that. Tim asked me to tell him about what it was like but I couldn’t talk about it and I didn’t have the verve to say anything caustic like, “Why don’t you suck me off and find out for yourself?”
As the conversation had petered out, we decided to go home. That was a relief. The first part of the evening had been a welcome relief from my mental turmoil. But since my secret was out and my embarrassment was total, I just wanted to get home and drink myself into oblivion.
Tim didn’t say much as I drove him to his apartment complex. Every once in a while I caught him shaking his head or muttering something like, “Wow!” By the time we got to the parking lot behind his apartment, I was really ready for him to get out. I pulled into a space and waited for him to get out. To my surprise, he didn’t.
“I want you to do it now…to me,” he said and the words hung in the air.
“No!” I said emphatically. And in case that wasn’t emphatic enough, I said it again: “NO!”
“Don’t say ‘no’ to me Jason. You don’t want everyone in the office to know what you did, do you?” Tim looked as if he had me by the proverbial balls. “Do you want everyone saying you’re a cocksucker?”
Well, of course I didn’t. But I didn’t see how sucking a cock would make me less of a cocksucker.
It wouldn’t, of course. But it might help keep me from being *known* as a cocksucker. Tim was betting that I would think that it would and that I would care enough about that to suck him off. When I thought of what my life would be like if the other guys knew that I had sucked Murphy off, I realized that Tim was right. And my failure to say anything in response to his threat let him know that he had won.
“Come on,” he gloated as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. “Here it is and I know you know what to do with it.” I looked around the parking lot. There was no activity in sight and I knew better than to argue with Tim. That would only delay things and someone might come into the parking lot. Better to get it over with.
So, I leaned slowly over into the passenger seat and took his cock in my hand, first, and then into my mouth. It would be a cruel lie to suggest that I was any kind of cock connoisseur. Until this moment, Murphy’s was the only other man’s cock I’d touched. But I could immediately tell the difference between Tim’s cock in my mouth and Murphy’s. Tim’s was smooth and Murphy’s was heavily veined. Murphy’s was a bit longer and thicker. And the head of Murphy’s dick was more pronounced. I could really feel the helmet as it pressed back and forth between my lips. And then there was the ineffable difference in the scent.
But there were similarities, too. Tim’s cock was hardening in my mouth just like Murphy’s did. Tim was soon thrusting up to get deeper into my mouth. And, like Murphy, he put his hands on the back of my head and pushed me more deeply on to his cock.
Tim was turned on and moving quickly toward an orgasm. “Good,” I thought. “We’ll get this over and be done with it.” Then I could go into my apartment and drink myself into oblivion. I put my hand around his rigid shaft and pumped him hard into my mouth.
Then Tim went rigid and began to grunt loudly. I could feel his load shooting past my hand, up his cock and then my mouth filled with his thick salty cum. It tasted different from Murphy in ways I couldn’t describe. But there was one difference that was easy to describe. He came a lot more than Murphy. With Murphy, it was really a couple of swallows and my mouth was cleared of his spunk. But Tim seemed to fill my mouth over and over again. I swallowed and swallowed till he finally was spent.
When I pulled my mouth off of his shrinking cock, he muttered, “Oh Jesus!”
I sat back up and Tim just slumped there in his seat, his head thrown back and his slick cock a visible reminder of what I had just done. Not that I needed a reminder; the taste of cum still filled my mouth and my lips tingled with the memory of his cock.
“Get out,” I told him forcefully. He didn’t move; he just sat there panting, recovering.
“Get out!” Then he started to stir so I reinforced it. “Get out. I mean it. Get out now.” He started putting his now limp dick back in his pants. “And you’d better not tell anyone what happened.”
I felt somehow redeemed as he got out of my car. It was as if my demand, and the fact that he had followed it, had recovered some of, if not my manhood, at least my dignity.
I was out of the parking lot within a second of his slamming the door. I didn’t look back. I just wanted to get home. On the way home, I had some time to think. Maybe this wasn’t all bad. At least now I knew that on Monday morning I was going to march into Murphy’s office and put an end to this Friday afternoon blow job crap. Maybe things could get back to normal.
Part 8: Screwing Up My Courage
The weekend was another waste and my Saturday night date with Steph was a disaster. The movie was okay but the sex afterwards–or, more honestly, the *attempt* at sex afterwards–was a flop. Literally.
Through Sunday, I was trying to forget about both Friday evening and Saturday night. And I was trying to screw up my courage to confront Murphy the next morning. Monday morning, I was ready. Or so I thought. But Monday morning didn’t go exactly as I’d planned.
It started out according to my plan. I was in early, knowing that Murphy would be, too. No one else was in the office yet. That was great. Somehow I felt like it would be more possible for me to confront Murphy if I didn’t think of the other guys being just outside the door.
I knocked. Murphy called, “Come in.” And I went in, closing the door tightly behind me.
“Well, Wilcox, what do you want?” Murphy said gruffly.
“I want to talk,” I began.
“You’re already talking. But you’re not saying anything. What do you want to say?”
“I want to talk about the last three Fridays,” I began.
“Well, what about ‘em?” His harshness was putting me off my script and I began to get flustered.
“Well, for one thing, they’re not going to happen any more,” I said defiantly feeling that I had regained some ground.
“Why? You think your sales are going to go up?”
“I don’t know. Probably not if you keep stacking the deck against me.” I saw a flicker of a smile as if he appreciated the fact that I realized what he had been doing. “But what happened before isn’t going to happen again anyway.”
“No one else does that,” I continued. “I mean, when they talk about ‘sucking old man Murphy’s dick’, they aren’t being literal.” Now why had I said that? Was I rehearsing it for my own benefit?
“Well, Wilcox. Aren’t you the bright boy?” Murphy said, getting up from his chair. “I didn’t know that they said that but you’re right. The other guys just come in and act like little boys getting called into the principal’s office. They tell me they’re going to do better and I pretend that I believe them. Frankly, it’s all too predictable and boring.”
Part 10: Surrogate Girlfriend
Just when I felt sort of settled into a routine, things changed again. This change was precipitated by Tim’s girlfriend breaking up with him. I never found out what happened between them. All I knew was that Tim was suddenly lonely on weekends. Initially, the only effect of this concerned the timing of his blackmail demands. Before long, though, it changed their nature rather dramatically.
I guess the first weekend after Tim’s girlfriend broke up with him, he toughed it out. But on Friday before the second weekend, he had decided that the fact that his girlfriend had dumped him and he couldn’t find another girlfriend was no reason his sex life should have to suffer. Just after I had finished blowing him in the supply room on Friday afternoon, he informed me that I would be coming over to his house Saturday night. When I told him I had a date with Steph Saturday night, he really didn’t care. He gave me two options: break the date or end it early enough to get over to his house by 11:00. Protests were to no effect. He simply reminded me that there would be likely to be *no* further dates with Steph if he had a little chat with her. Now I really wished I had never told him what Steph had said about Tom and Jennifer and my fears of what Steph would do if she ever found out what I was doing with Tim or Murphy. I had told him in the process of pleading with him to keep this secret. But, in my typical naïve fashion, I had only given him more ammunition to use against me.
So my date with Steph had to be a short one. As it turned out, that was fine. A longer date would only have dragged out the torture. We took in an early movie and then went for what I knew had to be a quick drink. I had planned to tell Steph that I wasn’t feeling well and end the date early for that reason. As it turned out, I didn’t have to lie. My stomach hurt and I couldn’t concentrate on anything Steph said. In typical self-obsessed manner, she interpreted it as selfishness on my part and lack of concern about her. In fact, I was very concerned about her and getting sick to my stomach thinking that I would be leaving her to go suck on Tim’s cock.
After I dropped Steph off, I spent the time driving to Tim’s house thinking about how to get out of this hole I’d dug myself into. But short of killing him–which I’d considered but feared I couldn’t get away with–I could think of nothing. So I pulled into Tim’s driveway, prepared for my fate.
I wasn’t prepared for how the night would turn out. After I took care of Tim’s needs in the usual fashion, I was getting ready to leave. Tim told me to stay. I didn’t know what was up until he told me that his girlfriend usually stayed over Saturday night and he was used to having sex first thing Sunday morning. He had missed that last weekend and he didn’t intend to go another Sunday morning without getting his rocks off. What could I do? The blackmail threat was still there. I had to yield.
So I wound up sleeping on the couch until around 8:30 when I was summoned into his room to perform my morning chores. He seemed to enjoy this even more than using me at work. I was so clearly at his beck and call. It was weird for me. He was naked–a first. And he was lying down on his bed–another first. So I got on my hands and knees on the bed next to him. I didn’t have to get him aroused. He was already hard with a morning woody.
I took him in my mouth, knowing my job would be easy this morning because Tim was so hard. Using one hand to squeeze the base of his cock and jerk him into my mouth, I had him ready to spurt in a matter of minutes. And spurt he did. With all the experience I had acquired in the last month sucking Tim off and taking his load, I’d gotten pretty good at swallowing it without gagging or retching. But this morning it was difficult. Whether it was because he had just awoken with a woody and shot me an especially large load or because I was in the unusual position I was in and had to sort of suck his cum up into my mouth to swallow it, I found it hard to keep up with his eruption. Some of it dribbled back down his slick shaft and I had to push it up with my hand and lick it off. When I started to pull off of his spent cock, he pushed my head back on and rolled over, pushing me onto my side next to him with his softening cock still in my mouth. He wanted me to keep sucking him. I’m very different. After I’ve cum, I don’t want any stimulation. My cock is just too sensitive. Tim wasn’t looking for any real action; I could tell that by how he held my head still. He just wanted me to suckle on his soft cock.
While I was pleasing him in this way, I reflected on how much had happened to me recently. I went from not having touched another man’s cock to being available on demand to service not one but two cocks. How many blowjobs had I given in the last six weeks or so? There was no way I could count them from memory. Too many of them blurred together in my mind. But I figured that for the last four weeks, since Tim got into the act, I was giving about 10 to 12 blow jobs a week. And then, there were the three I gave Old Man Murphy before that. I guessed that I had easily given over 50 blowjobs in my short career. I’d gotten pretty proficient at it. And the best part–if there can be a “best part” to this humiliating degradation–was that I was mostly over the shame of shooting my load when I took theirs. That had only happened with Tim five or six times. And it was happening with Murphy less than half the time now. I had learned to carry tissues with me and to wear briefs under my boxers. That way, when it did happen, I could clean up before it soaked through my pants. So, these were the thoughts that went through my head while I suckled on Tim’s soft cock. I realized that I was finding the suckling soothing and comforting. But I found *that* thought very discomforting. So I quickly put it out of my mind. He allowed me to pull off his cock this time and didn’t object to me going.
I spent the rest of the day doing ordinary things: laundry, grocery shopping and stuff like that–things that I used to find boring beyond words but now found comforting in their mundane nature.
Part 11: Taking it Like a Man?
The next week was pretty typical except that Murphy was friskier than usual, demanding late afternoon blow jobs in addition to his regular morning ones on two different days, and Tim began to look for ways to further discomfort me. One time when he knew I was on the phone with Steph, he motioned for me to come with him. When I ignored him, he took the phone from my hand and talked directly to Steph.
“Do you mind if I borrow Jason from you for a few minutes?” He paused while Steph said something I couldn’t hear, and then went on, “I just need him for a while to help me take care of a situation that’s come up. He’s the only one in the whole office who really gets this stuff.” Tim was smirking at me as he talked with Steph. I was desperately trying to figure out whether anything in his tone or words alone would make Steph suspicious about what this “situation” that came up was. I sure hoped not. It was hard enough to patch things up with Steph without any additional problems.
I got through the week okay and I even had a plan to make the weekend go better. I knew Tim had to go up to his parents house Friday night and would be there until the middle of the day on Saturday. So I arranged a date with Steph for Friday night and told her that I’d be working with Tim most of the rest of the weekend on a strategic plan for the sales department.
The date with Steph went well. We spent the night together and everything worked sexually. I was starting to think that I was getting that part of my life back on track. The rest of the weekend would undermine my confidence in that.
Tim wanted me at his house at around 8:00 Saturday night to watch a movie. It turned out that he had two movies–both cheap porno and both with a similar theme. The first was titled *Innocent Bi-standers*. It was about–as much as any of these films are “about” anything–two friends who witness a Mafia hit and are put into the witness protection program until they can testify. They are put up together in a swanky hotel, which lacked for almost nothing. Of course, one of the things that it did lack was women. This absence quickly wore on the two guys and it wasn’t long before they were watching porn together on the TV. This led to whacking off together which quickly led, by a process that wasn’t really made clear, to the more dominant one having the other guy on his knees, servicing him orally. For the rest of the movie, under a blackmail threat, the subservient one was basically a sex slave for the other guy.
The second movie was called *Bi-athletes*. It was nominally about two amateur athletes who began betting on who would win whatever contest they were involved in. The bets were about money (and of course pride) at first. But they escalated into bets that involved the loser having to embarrass himself in some way–usually a way with sexual overtones. Finally, the bet was a blow job and the guy who lost wound up on his knees servicing the winner. There wasn’t any explicit blackmail in this one but the guy who had lost the bet pretty much wound up being the sex toy for the other guy. And the kicker was that he wound up liking it.
Both were portrayed as involving bisexuality but it was really gay porn for “straight” guys who couldn’t quite bring themselves to rent a movie labeled ‘gay’.
Tim and I were slugging back beers throughout the first movie and by the end we were both pretty drunk. During most of the second half of the second movie, Tim had me sucking his cock. But he didn’t want to cum. He would stop me whenever things were moving that way. I didn’t know at this point why.
When the movies were over, Tim asked me what I thought of them.
“I don’t think anything of them, Tim.” I replied, determined not to reveal anything that might be embarrassing. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Don’t rush things Jason. Tonight’s going to be a bit different. This is going to be like your maiden voyage. We have to take things slowly.”
I had no idea what Tim had in mind but I had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn’t going to be anything good for me.
“Stand up.” I followed orders, as I knew I had to. “Now drop your pants and underpants.” So I figured now that he was going for the scene where I give him a blow job while I have my pants down–just like Murphy did once. Tim knew that I was especially humiliated by that and I was surprised now that he hadn’t demanded this earlier. I dropped my pants and underpants to my ankles and felt my cock begin to rise. I’d been hard a good bit of the time while the movies were running, especially when I’d been sucking Tim’s cock. Now my cock was on the rise again. Tim noticed it and commented on it. Then he did something I really didn’t expect. He told me to stroke myself. I hesitated and he told me to quit playing games. He reminded me that I would do whatever he told me to do and I knew it. So I found myself stroking my cock to a fully hard state in front of my colleague.
Tim wasn’t really interested in my cock, though. This was all about domination and humiliation. If it would have been more humiliating for me to scratch my elbow on command, Tim would have ordered that.
I found myself experiencing psychological arousal in addition to my obvious physical arousal. I started to think that I could actually climax like this. The thought of relief beckoned me but the anticipation of further humiliation repelled me at the same time. We would never see which emotion would win out. Tim stopped me well short of shooting.
“Follow me,” he commanded. He walked into the kitchen and I waddled after him my hardon swinging wildly back and forth as I shuffled with my pants around my ankles. He directed me toward the kitchen island and finally pushed me up against it, my crotch pressing into the counter edge. “Grab the other side,” he said as he pushed me down over the island. Taken by surprise, I couldn’t resist going all the way down onto the counter. And, at that point, with his hand on my back, I couldn’t push myself back up. I grabbed the counter edge on the other side of the island and held on.
“And don’t let go.” All I could muster in response was a weak, “no.” My plea went unheeded. I felt my ass cheeks being spread and something very slick being smeared down my crack.
I tried to say ‘no’ much more forcefully but it still came out as a feeble plea.
“Come on, Jason. You know you’ll do what I tell you to do,” Tim said. “So just shut up and take it.”
Tim was right that I would do whatever he told me to. I couldn’t have him tell everyone, including (I was sure) Steph, what I’d been doing. That would ruin my life. Given the choice, I decided ruining my ass was the lesser evil.
So I felt Tim’s cock putting pressure on my anus. I know that some guys–I mean even straight guys–engage in ass play, putting things up their asses or having their partners do that. But I’d never put anything up my ass. For me, that was an “exit only” hole. Now that was all going to change, and in a big way. At first it just felt like pressure against any part of my body would. It didn’t feel as if he would enter me. But then, under gentle but relentless pressure, I felt my asshole trying to open large enough to accommodate Tim’s cock. This wasn’t going to be easy. When the head was just starting to go in, I screamed in pain and tried to pull away.
“Come on, bitch,” Tim spit out. “This isn’t the first time a guy’s taken a hard cock up his ass. Just relax and take it like a man.”
Well, it *was* the first time *this* guy had taken a hard cock up his ass and it hurt like hell. And what was this “take it like a man” shit? The irony of his words wasn’t lost on me. Really, he wanted me to take it like a woman. I mean, I guess gay men take it like this but aren’t they really taking it like a woman? And, anyway, I wasn’t gay.
If he kept pressing in like he started, there was no chance I was going to “take it like a man.” Thank God, Tim relented just a little to let the pain subside. And it did. And then it began again as he pressed hard into me. The head of his cock slid in. I could feel the ridge pass my sphincter.
Tim stopped and just held steady for a few seconds. That gave my ass a chance to adjust to the size. Then, with one hand pressed down on my back, making it impossible for me to move, he gently pulled back completely out of my ass, with the tip of his cock just pressing against my ass. I sighed in relief and, as soon as I did, I worried that he would misinterpret my response. But I think he really didn’t care about my response.
He pressed forward again and this time slipped in more easily. Then he began just slipping the helmet of his cock in and out of my ass, which was accommodating him without much pain now. Just when I was adjusting to this humiliating indignity and, to tell the truth, beginning to understand why some men engaged in ass play, Tim moved his hands to my hips. I think I knew what was about to happen, but I still wasn’t ready for it when he thrust into me deeply, rearranging my bowels to fit his cock.
That hurt in a completely different way. The entry had been a sharp pain, which was now dulled considerably. But this was an uncomfortable, almost sick feeling deep in my abdomen. But this, too, subsided–at least the unpleasant parts of it did–and I was soon taking his full thrusts comfortably. And, my cock, which had withered completely after the waddle into the kitchen, was rigid again and pushing up against the kitchen island. It hurt like that so I tried to push back to let it rise above the counter. Unfortunately, Tim misinterpreted this movement. “You like that, don’t you?” He said confidently. I didn’t even try denying it. He was going to interpret things as he wanted, anyway. Raising up to get my cock above the counter made him enter me at a different angle and that path made all the difference. I can’t describe the change in the feeling. Suddenly, I felt the intense urge to cum and so I remained pressed up at about a 45-degree angle while he thrust deeply into my ass. And then, quite suddenly, I felt myself erupting on the cutting board. It was different from any orgasm I’d had before. It didn’t build slowly and get to a sort of staging point from which to launch. Instead, it felt as if was begin expelled from my like a steamroller would squeeze toothpaste from a tube.
Whatever the process, it was incredibly effective at cleaning me out. I spurted over and over, far more than I usually do and covered the cutting board with my jism. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Tim seemed to enjoy having made me cum by fucking my ass. He let loose with a grunt and filled my previously virgin ass with his cum.
Tim stayed in me for a minute, recovering somewhat. When he pulled out, my ass was so opened up I could feel his cum sliding out my ass and down the insides of my thighs. I felt like a ten-dollar whore (except that I hadn’t gotten ten dollars). “Clean it up with your tongue,” Tim barked at me and I began to gag as I thought about licking his shit-stained cock. But when I looked at him, I realized with relief that he was talking about the cutting board. So, I actually felt like I was getting off easy just licking my own jism up from the counter top.
When I’d finished, which took a bit of time given the quantity of cum, Tim ordered me into the shower to wash him. It was really strange soaping and rinsing off another man. But I appreciated using my hands in the shower instead of my tongue in the kitchen. As I soaped Tim’s cock, I could feel some life returning to it and I wondered what was in store for the rest of the night.
As it turned out, Tim seemed to like corn-holing me. I didn’t give a single blow job–at least not one to completion–that weekend. He fucked my ass two more times though, once as we went to sleep spoon-style and then again in the morning when he put me on my hands and knees, stood next to the bed and fucked me like a bitch in heat. And I came both times. I guess I’m just a sucker for a prostate massage.
I went home mid-morning, with a very sore rectum, and tried to catch up on the things I had to do over the weekend: laundry, dishes and so forth. Tomorrow would begin another work week and I was sure that Murphy and Tim would be making their usual demands. I was getting to the point where I didn’t mind Murphy’s demands. Between the raise in my base salary and the bonuses he was being pretty generous with for my good performance, I was making more money now than ever. I was worried, though, that Tim might want to expand our repertoire at work to include his new-found pleasure of fucking my ass.
Even though I’d cum every time Tim had fucked me, I didn’t like this prospect. Anal sex was messier and harder to hide. I mean, if someone were knocking on the storeroom door when I was giving Tim a blowjob, we could be straightened up and opening the door in seconds–feigning surprise that the door had somehow locked itself when it closed. But if he was deep in my ass when that knock came, it would take way too long to straighten up. Besides, it hurt and I didn’t want to be walking around at work with cum dribbling out of my asshole.
Part 12: More Office Humiliation
I won’t say that I was looking forward to sucking Tim’s cock at work, but I was relieved when it became clear that this was all he was going to make me do. He couldn’t resist, though, needling me about the turn in our relationship. The jabs ranged from public comments that would sound innocent enough to others like, “Move your ass,” to graphic descriptions of our anal sex while I was sucking his cock. I must admit that his dirty talking affected me. I was cumming in my pants almost every time I sucked his dick now. Fortunately, I was wearing multiple layers of underpants and the cum never leaked through my pants.
“Fuuuuuck,” Paul groaned, as he made one final deep thrust.
“Yeah,” Ally panted under him. “We keep doing that.”
Chuck laughed and turned back to his video game.
As Paul climbed off the bed, swatting Ally playfully on the ass, the buxom blonde coed noticed the time. It was after 1:00 pm on a Saturday. She had been in Paul and Chuck’s dorm room for over twelve hours now.
She had arrived late Friday night, when her date with Paul had ended in his bed. After a night of rough and wild sex, she had dozed off only to be awakened by strong hands caressing her skin. Without really waking up or opening her eyes, she had responded warmly to those caresses. It hadn’t been until after his cum flooded over her tongue that she had discovered the cock in her mouth belonged to Paul’s roommate Chuck. Ally strongly suspected that the guys had planned the whole thing. Certainly, rather than being upset Paul had simply taken his roommate’s place in her mouth, while Chuck ate her out and finally fucked her pussy. In the warm afterglow, Ally had drifted back to sleep only to be awoken with Paul taking his turn fucking her pussy while Chuck pushed into her mouth.
Since then, Ally had found herself spending the day in the guys’ room. She had left it only once, to make a mad dash to the bathroom, naked. (Paul had laughingly insisted on keeping her clothes “…so you don’t run off on us.”)
When Ally had suggested that maybe she should get dressed and head back to her dorm, Paul had produced a pair of fur handcuffs from somewhere. Amid much laughing and playful struggling (she hadn’t really fought that hard) the guys had pinned her down and cuffed her ankle to the bedpost. After they had both fucked her again, they had left her there while they played video games.
Amused, Ally had spent the rest of the morning lying naked, cuffed to Paul’s bed, reading a magazine. Every once in a while, when one of the guys recovered enough to get hard again, he would sit down beside her and start caressing her. Chuck, she had discovered, gave wonderful languid backrubs and was very fond of rubbing her ass. Paul was rougher, more urgent and liked to play with her tits. Foreplay aside, they ended the same way, thrusting away until they came in her pussy. Then the guy would climb off to return to his video game.
Ally was pretty sure her Women’s Studies group would be horrified, but the truth of the matter was she had been having fun. She felt sexy and free, completely at ease as she lay naked on the bed, floating in the warm afterglow of multiple, repeated orgasms.
Still, the day was getting on.
“Hey guys,” she said, rolling over and looking at them.
“Yeah,” they chorused in reply, not looking away from their game.
“What about something to eat?” Ally asked.
“We’re not feeding her enough,” chuckled Paul.
“I got something you could eat,” Chuck leered, grabbing his crotch.
Ally rolled her eyes. “Tasty, but a girl can’t live on cum alone. Come on, guys, it’s after noon. I’m hungry… like for food. Let’s go get something.”
The guys exchanged a look.
“Oh, come on,” Ally laughed. “You’ve fucked me like five times… each. The least you can do is spring for lunch.”
“We could order a pizza,” Paul said with a grin.
“Oh… and then what?” Ally laughed. “I open the door naked and give the pizza guy a big ‘tip’… or maybe he gives me his big tip.”
“Dude,” drawled Chuck. “That would be…”
“A total cliché,” Ally barked. “It’s like a bad porno.”
“That’s why it would be cool,” Chuck muttered, downcast.
“Ok,” Ally grinned.
A half-hour later, Ally stood nervously in front of the dorm room door, waiting. She shifted uncomfortably from on foot to another, occasionally trying to smooth her bed-tangled hair. She was trying to affect a cool, collected demeanor, as if she opened doors to strangers while stark naked every day. It wasn’t working. A quick glance at the mirror build into the dorm’s dresser showed her a tall, naked blonde, blushing so deeply that her face, neck and the tops of her full breasts looked sunburned. Ally took a deep breath, watching in the mirror as her flushed breasts rose and fell. She thought she felt a little steadier.
A loud, staccato knock rattled the door. Ally jumped, her heart racing at the sound. Behind her, the two guys laughed and elbowed each other. Ally glanced at them and realized they expected her to chicken out. Defiant, she turned, thrust out her full breasts and yanked the door open.
“Pizza,” said a bored voice. Then, with a hint of laughter, the voice added: “Oh.”
Ally’s jaw dropped and, though she hadn’t thought it possible, felt herself blush even more. The pizza delivery driver stared back, smiling slightly. Ally took in the driver’s loose sweat pants, logo t-shirt and ball cap… the cap covering long blonde hair, the t-shirt swelling over small but perky breasts and the sweats hugging long, rounded legs. The driver’s smile widened as her eyes traveled unabashed over Ally’s curves, then took in the two guys behind her.
“Let me guess,” the delivery girl said. “You were playing out a scene from a bad porno.”
Ally’s voice caught in her throat.
“Kinda,” Chuck muttered the background.
“Met the driver naked at the door?” the delivery girl continued, stepping into the dorm room, handing the pizza to Paul and plucking the cash from his hand. She turned back to face Ally. “Maybe offer some oral sex as a tip. Was that the idea?”
Ally blushed even more.
“Well,” the delivery girl said, looking Ally up and down again, “was it?”
“Yeah,” Ally whispered, mortified. “Something like that.”
“I could use a good tip,” the delivery girl said with a wicked grin.
“Huh, what?” Ally blinked.
“Dude,” Chuck muttered.
The delivery girl stepped close to Ally, smiling. Her hand slid up the buxom coed’s naked side to cup her full breast. Ally shivered as the soft fingers caressed her, teasing her nipple.
“You were gonna give these boys a thrill, right?” she whispered, her lips practically touching Ally’s. “I’m game if you are. I’d love a good tip from you. What do you say?”
Shivering harder, Ally felt herself nod fractionally.
“So come on.” The delivery girl stepped back, speaking so the guys could hear. “I want my tip.”
In a quick motion, she pulled her sweat pants down around her ankles and dropped onto the edge of the bed. Ally stared, stunned, at the woman’s long firm legs and the neatly trimmed triangle of blonde hair between them. The driver reached up and pulled Ally closer. Unthinking, the buxom coed dropped to her knees in front of the other woman, who spread her legs wide.
Behind them, the guys laughed with glee.
Ally leaned closer, staring in awe at the soft folds nestled between the other woman’s legs. It wasn’t the first pussy she had seen by any means, but it was the first one that had even been offered to her like this, the first one she was supposed to… God, Ally thought, what am I doing?
“Come on, girly,” the delivery girl growled, “where’s that tip you owe me?”
“I’ve got a tip for you,” Paul groaned in the background.
“Not you,” the girl barked at him. “Or you.” She added to Chuck.
“I…” Ally stammered. “I don’t know what to do.”
“A virgin box-licker,” the delivery girl crowed. “Come here, darling. I’ll teach you.”
She slid her hands into Ally’s hair and pulled her face down between her legs.
“Put your hands on my thighs,” she commanded. “That’s right, just like that. Rub my legs. Good girl. Now, put your face down there… don’t be shy darling… lick me… go on… just stick out your tongue and lick…”
Shivering, Ally breathed in the delivery girl’s warm, spicy scent. Tentatively, her tongue slipped from between her lips and she brushed it against the other woman’s folds.
“Ahhh, yeah,” the delivery girl sighed. “More… lick me up and down.”
Feeling braver, Ally fluttered little licks along the other woman’s pussy.
“Oh don’t tease,” the delivery girl moaned. “Lick me… eat my pussy… eat my fucking pussy.”
Ally’s tongue parted the other woman’s folds, tasting her tangy wetness. The delivery girl’s hands tightened in Ally’s hair, pulling her face harder against the wet pussy. Ally’s tongue lashed and spiraled, striking almost by chance the hard nub of the delivery girl’s clit.
“Yes,” the delivery girl groaned. “Right there… right there darling… lick my clit… eat my pussy… oh yes, eat me… fucking eat my pussy, you little slut.”
Ally bobbed her head, licking and swirling her tongue wildly over the delivery girl’s pussy.
“You like that, boys?” the driver said, and Ally made to lift her head. “No… don’t stop… keep licking… good girl. Your boys are rubbing their crotches. They’ve got boners from watching you eat my pussy. You boys have a good slut here. Does she suck cock as good as she eats pussy?”
“Fuck yeah,” growled Paul from somewhere over Ally’s shoulder. “She’s a great cock sucker, right Chuck.”
“She’s a great fuck too.” Chuck added.
“You’ve both been fucking her?” the delivery girl moaned.
“All fucking weekend,” Paul chuckled.
“So it’s a ‘fucking’ weekend,” the delivery girl laughed. “Sounds great. Well, boys. Let’s see those cocks. “
“What?” said Chuck, even as Ally heard the rush of Paul’s zipper.
“Whip ‘em out,” the delivery girl repeated. “I want to see what you’ve been fucking this box-licking slut with.”
Ally looked up from between the delivery girl’s legs. She could see Paul standing beside her, his cock in his hand. Chuck stood on her other side, pulling out his own. The delivery girl smiled. Looking down at Ally, she wrapped her fingers around both cocks. Then she leaned over and took Paul into her mouth.
Soon the room was full with moans and wet, sucking sounds.
Ally’s fingers danced against her own clit as her tongue lapped at the delivery girl’s pussy. Paul and Chuck moaned and grunted as they took turns thrusting their cocks into the delivery girl’s face. She moaned and sucked noisily, pausing occasionally to lewdly command Ally not to stop eating her.
Suddenly, the delivery girl started to buck violently. Her legs clamped around Ally’s head, holding her tightly as her hips rocked in orgasm. Somewhere overhead, Ally heard Chuck growl. After a last shuddering spasm, Ally was able to pull herself from between the delivery girl’s legs. She looked up to see Chuck’s cum oozing down the delivery girl’s chin.
“Damn,” the delivery girl groaned. “I have got to run. I was supposed to be back to pick up some more pizzas ages ago.”
The delivery girl stood suddenly and pulled her sweats back up. Wiping her chin, she smiled down at Ally. Quickly, she knelt. Her hand cupped Ally’s cheek and she smiled. Nervously, Ally smiled back as the delivery girl leaned close and kissed her. Ally tasted the delivery girl’s swollen lips and musky flavor of the guys’ cocks. Slowly, the delivery girl pulled away and smiled again.
“That was a great tip, darling,” she said as she stood and headed for the door.
“Hey, what about me,” Paul groaned, his hard shaft still in his hand.
“Finished him off for me, won’t you darling,” the delivery girl said to Ally. “I’ve really got to run.”
With that, she dashed out the door.
“Damn, that was cool,” said Chuck.
“… and, that’s my problem,” Doug groaned, taking another swig of his beer. “What do you think? I’m dead, right?”
“Let me see if I have this right,” Charlie ventured, struggling to keep a straight face. “Becky just came out as some kind of kinky bisexual dominatrix with this old college girlfriend… a big breasted blonde slut who fucks and sucks like a porn star and even takes it up the ass. You get to fuck the girlfriend any time you want, any way you want as long as you’re willing to suffer through watching the two of them have kinky lesbian sex. Right?”
Charlie burst out laughing. “Tell me again, Doug… What exactly is the PROBLEM here!?!?”
“Brunette,” Doug muttered.
“She’s a brunette, not a blonde,” Doug groaned.
“Oh,” Charlie nodded sagely. “Well, in that case forget it. No, yeah, totally. Can’t have that.”
“You’re a big help,” Doug sighed, covering his face with his hands.
“Dude, you’re life has just become a fucking porno,” Charlie grinned. “You know what you need to do?”
“What?” Doug said, looking up.
“Get some of those little blue pills,” Charlie grinned.
Doug groaned and buried his face in his hands again.
Later, as Doug pulled into the garage, his mind was still reeling. It had been since the other night. He’d felt he and Becky had a good solid relationship. Things were going well for them. They were happy. Now suddenly, this Liz had appeared and everything had gotten very confusing, very fast. What was weird, Doug thought, was that while things were confusing, they weren’t really bad. The crazy sex had been fun, but more than that, Becky seemed more confident, more affectionate, more… herself, Doug concluded. Since the reintroduction of Liz into Becky’s life, Becky had become more like the woman he had fallen in love with. But if that was because of Liz…
Doug sighed, realizing he was still sitting in the car, in the garage, listening the engine cool down while his thoughts chased themselves in circles. Grabbing his briefcase, he dragged himself from the car and headed into the kitchen.
Setting down his case, Doug reached into the fridge for a beer. It suddenly occurred to him that, in his distraction, he hadn’t made his usual “Honey, I’m home” joke. Shaking his head, he drew a breath only to have it knocked back out of him.
“Oh fuck!” Becky’s voice rang through the house. “Oh yes… yes Lizzie. Just like that…”
“Honey, I’m home,” Doug bellowed, his voice louder than he had intended.
He heard Becky gasp, and a barely audible, “Crap!”
Doug waited, his insides churning with emotions. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was feeling, whether it was anger, jealousy, lust, or some heady combination of all of those and more. He felt like he was going to explode.
Becky appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her cheeks were flushed and she was panting, as if she had just run down the hall… after being interrupted on her way to orgasm. One hand held shut the button blouse she wore. Her long, creamy legs were bare, and Doug caught a flash of her neatly trimmed bush, framed between the tails of the blouse.
“Hi,” Becky ventured timidly.
Doug felt a fiery whirlwind of emotion coalesce into a hot and powerful burning in his head. Slowly, he advanced on his wife.
“So,” Doug said, his voice surprisingly calm to his own ears, “I take it Liz is here.”
“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Becky said sharply, her back straightening.
Becky’s eyes suddenly blazed defiantly in the face of Doug’s aggressive posture. Releasing her nervous grip on her blouse, she set her hands firmly on her hips. The power of the stance wasn’t much diminished by the fact that, unchecked, her blouse now fell open, baring her pert breasts and neatly trimmed bush, but its effect on Doug was probably the opposite of what Becky intended.
“Becky,” Doug said, feeling amazingly rational despite the raging emotions flooding through him, “if this is going to work, we need to talk about it, establish some guidelines we can all live by.”
“Yeah?” Becky replied, still defiant but suddenly a little less sure of herself.
“Yeah,” Doug said. Suddenly, he heard his voice change as the burning fire in his head migrated downward, “After…”
“After?” Becky queried.
Doug closed the distance between them in a lunge. Seizing his startled wife, he dragged her to him. Their mouths met with bruising force. Pinning Becky against the wall, Doug kissed her wildly. His body crushed against hers. His suddenly, painfully hard cock ground against her and he could feel her warm wetness pressed against him. Becky’s body relaxed suddenly, yielding to him.
Panting, Doug broke the kiss an eternity later.
“After,” he growled. “First I need to teach your little friend some manners… maybe I should do the same to you.”
“Yes,” Becky gasped. “Yes, I think you… Yeah, you should definitely do that.”
Taking Becky by the arm, Doug led her down the hall into the bedroom.
Liz lay sprawled on the bed. On my bed, Doug thought, with another rush of intense feeling. The curvaceous brunette was naked. Her firm, round ass was red from what must have been one of Becky’s spankings. As they entered, Liz curled catlike and sat up, arching her back to display her full round breasts and hard nipples. Doug felt himself ache with lust at the sight of her. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to push Liz down onto the bed and pound her while she screamed.
Instead, Doug seized the collar of his wife’s open blouse and roughly pulled it off her back. Becky yelped, but didn’t resist. Firmly, he pushed his wife onto the bed. As Becky dropped next to her, Liz sat up a little straighter. The brunette’s mouth opened in a surprised little ‘O’ but her bright blue eyes were unreadable.
“Liz, as I was telling my wife,” Doug placed a heavy emphasis on the title, “we need to establish some guidelines about how this is going to work between us. Understand?”
Liz nodded and Doug was acutely aware of her breasts, rising and falling with her suddenly heavy breathing. Becky sat up next to her, her own smaller breasts heaving.
“I can’t hear you,” Doug growled, looming over them.
“Yes sir,” Liz replied without the slightest hint of pretension.
“Yes,” Becky nodded, her voice level, “but I think we need a clear head to do that.”
“Right,” Doug agreed. His hands, driven by the fiery emotion inside, were already unbuckling his belt. “So we’re going to talk after.”
“After?” Liz somehow managed to sound meek and teasing at the same time.
“After,” Doug repeated, pulling his belt off.
“Doug thinks we need to be taught some manners,” Becky breathed, looking up at her husband.
“Oh,” Liz breathed.
“That’s right,” Doug growled. “Now turn over.”
“Yes sir,” Liz gasped. Quickly she rolled over and lay on her belly, her firm, already reddened ass slightly raised.
Doug felt his breath coming quickly as he looked at Liz’s pale, round flesh and the slight peek of her wet pussy framed between her thighs. Again, he brutally crushed the desire to just jump on her and start pounding away. Instead, he slowly folded over his belt. Glancing over at Becky, he saw her wide eyes moving slowly between his face, the belt and her lover’s ass. Becky’s breath was coming in deep gasps, and her pert little nipples were hard as buds.
“I said turn over,” Doug said to her.
“What?” Becky’s eyes grew even wider.
“Now,” Doug repeated. He was a little surprised to find that he didn’t raise his voice or even put any threat into the word. It was simply a command, unquestionable and undeniable.
Becky’s breath caught in her throat, but even as she stared, shocked, at her husband, she turned over. Still watching him, wide eyed, over her shoulder, Becky lay herself down next to Liz. The brunette lay her hand over Becky’s and Doug saw the other woman smile reassuringly at his wife. He saw Becky smile back, at Liz and at him. Then Becky lifted her ass slightly, surrendering to him.
Doug felt a fierce and wild rush of tenderness toward his wife. A tenderness that, strangely, felt in no way incompatible with the burning core of wild passion inside him or doubled length of belt he lifted menacing over her offered ass.
The belt made a loud crack as it smacked down against Becky’s bare ass. Doug’s blonde wife yelped and jumped a little as the blow landed. Reversing his swing, Doug brought the belt down against Liz’s rounder backside. The brunette gasped with the blow. A second stinging blow drew a little cry from Becky. Liz simply exhaled sharply at her next blow.
Doug’s arm rose and fell, driven by the raw core of emotion inside him. His blows quickly found a rhythm, moving from Becky’s narrow, toned buttocks to Liz’s firm, rounded ass and back again. Becky continued to yelp and jump with each blow. Liz moaned and sighed, her ass rising at each pass, clearly eager for more.
Becky’s latest cry was sharper than the one before. Nodding, Doug laid a single, furious, stinging blow across Liz’s ass. The brunette gave a little gasping cry. It was time for something else, Doug thought, tossing the belt aside. Becky lay still, panting a little. Liz looked back over her shoulder at Doug, her unfathomable blue eyes studying him even as she panted with desire. He wasn’t sure why, but he got the sense she too had heard the difference in Becky’s cry and approved of his decision to stop.
“Now,” Doug said firmly, unbuttoning his slacks, “I need a some attention.”
“Yes sir,” Liz purred, curling slowly upward.
“Becky,” Doug said, a little more softly.
“Anything,” Becky sighed, her face still half-pressed into the mattress. “Anything you want.”
Doug felt a surge of lust at his wife’s words, but mastered himself once more.
“Suck me,” Doug commanded, pulling down his slacks and briefs in a quick motion. Liz leaned forward, smiling.
“Becky,” Doug said firmly. Liz froze, looking up at him quizzically.
“Becky too,” Doug clarified, with a smile.
His wife pulled herself up, rubbing her reddened ass slightly and smiling. Liz reached out, her fingers encircling Doug’s hard shaft. Doug moaned as her warm fingers gripped him. Becky slid forward, sitting on the edge of the bed opposite Liz, with Doug’s cock between them. The women smiled at each other, and Liz, her hand rubbing up and down Doug’s shaft, turned it toward Becky. Doug’s blonde wife laughed and lowered her head. Her tongue flicked out, fluttering over the tip, and Doug moaned.
Slowly, Becky rolled her tongue over the head of Doug’s cock, teasing and licking only the tip. Liz leaned in and her tongue slid along his shaft. Doug groaned at the feeling of two women licking his cock. The sight of their heads, blonde and brunette, together while their tongues slowly teased and tormented him was amazing.
“Suck me,” Doug groaned again, rocking his hips to thrust against his wife’s teasing tongue.
Becky moved back, laughing. Even as Doug snarled in frustrated lust, Liz’s tongue slid up his shaft and her warm mouth enveloped him. Doug’s snarl turned into a moan as Liz’s dark head bobbed up and down on his length. Becky leaned forward again and Liz pulled her mouth off Doug with an audible pop. Becky’s lips encircled Doug’s cock and she slowly bobbed her head. Liz’s tongue slid down his shaft and her warm mouth enfolded his balls.
Doug groaned. His hips rocked, thrusting into his wife’s mouth. Becky moved her head in time with his thrusts, then released him. Liz took him in her mouth again, swallowing him deeply. Doug shuddered as almost his entire length sank into Liz’s throat. The brunette gagged slightly, but doggedly took him inside.
“God, how do you do that,” Becky moaned at the sight.
Slowly, Liz pulled her head back up, releasing Doug’s shaft.
“Practice,” she said, pulling Becky’s head over to Doug’s shaft.
Doug watched as his cock passed through his wife’s lips. Liz rested her hand on Becky’s neck, gently pushing her lower. Doug groaned as his lovely blonde wife attempted to swallow his shaft. Her mouth sank slowly deeper and Becky gagged, pulling back. She swallowed convulsively, struggling to catch her breath, and then Liz pushed her gently down again. This time Becky went deeper, gagging but holding on a moment longer. Doug moaned as his wife’s mouth convulsed around his shaft.
Quickly, Becky lifted her head, coughing. Wiping her mouth, she smiled up at her husband while Liz took her place. The busty brunette slowly and steadily swallowed Doug’s cock to the root. Doug moaned as her lips encircled the base of his shaft. Mouth full, Liz’s tongue slid out to tease Doug’s balls.
“Bitch,” Becky grinned, pinching Liz’s nipple. The brunette jumped and coughed around Doug’s member, lifting her head.
Becky took her place, bobbing her head up and down rapidly. When she paused, Liz took over again. Doug groaned and closed his eyes while the two women took turns licking, sucking and swallowing his cock.
Finally, he felt the intensity of it growing beyond controlling. His hips rocked, unconsciously thrusting into the wet mouth surrounding him. The mouth, Becky’s he realized, convulsed around his shaft and pulled back, coughing, even as he erupted. Cum sprayed from his cock, dripping down Becky’s chin and breasts as Doug spasmed.
As Doug moaned in release, Liz leaned in, taking him in her mouth and swallowing the last of his load. Then she turned to Becky and pushed her down onto the bed.
Sensuously, Liz kissed Becky’s lips. Then, slowly, she licked the trails of semen from Becky’s chin, smiling as she swallowed each sticky white drop. Carefully, she worked her way down toward Becky’s breasts while her fingers slipped up and started to tease Doug’s wife’s pussy.
Doug sank down onto the bed and watched in fascination as Liz licked Becky clean. Her tongue slid lovingly over his wife’s neck, chest and breasts. She carefully licked and sucked the white drops of cum off Becky’s nipples, teasing them to hardness, while her fingers probed Becky’s wet folds.
“Oh God yeah,” Becky whispered, opening her legs and pressing her breast into Liz’s mouth. “Do that… yes… do that.”
Doug slid his hand across Becky’s thigh. His fingers brushed against Liz’s. The brunette smiled at him, her mouth still full of Becky’s pert breast. Together their fingers stoked Becky’s pussy.
“Oh wow,” Becky moaned. “Yes… yes… touch me… oh god… yes… don’t stop.”
Liz’s fingers danced rapidly over Becky’s clit, while Doug pushed his inside her, steadily finger-fucking her pussy.
“Oh… oh…” Becky whimpered, her body arching under their combined touch. “Yes… I… yes… don’t stop… don’t… oh God… oooohhhh yes!”
Becky’s body jumped and spasmed in orgasm. Panting and jerking, she collapsed limply onto the bed.
Quietly, Liz slid to her feet. Unashamedly naked, she padded silently from the room, pausing only to meet Doug’s eyes for a second and smile.
Doug moved closer to Becky and his wife nestled into his arms. They lay together like that for a long time.
“You guys have done stuff like that before,” Doug said. It wasn’t really a question.
Becky moaned, burying her face in her husband’s chest. “Please don’t hate me, Doug. I…”
“Becky,” Doug firmly overrode whatever she was going to say. “I love you. I’ve loved you for years… and this, all this… it’s part of who you are. Even if I didn’t know about it, it’s still part of you and I love you. Weird, kinky, sexy you.”
The words clearly surprised Becky. In the honest part of his heart, they surprised Doug. More so because he knew they were true.
Husband and wife look at each other for a long moment. Then they laughed.
“Hey,” Becky smiled. “I’m not the only kinky one in this marriage, Mr. ‘teach some manners.’ Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know,” Doug said honestly. “I… it… just felt right. So I went with it. Was it… ok?”
“Well, my ass still stings,” Becky replied smiling. “but yeah, it was… wow… just great.”
“Ok,” Doug smiled.
“Ok,” Becky nodded, then drew a deep breath. “So…”
“So, let’s figure out how to make this work,” Doug said. “Now go tell Liz to stop flashing the neighbors, or whatever she’s doing, and let’s all figure this out together.”
The first message from Roman and subsequent investigation of his online profiles made me quite sure that I wanted to do very dirty things with this man. We quickly settled a meeting time. I couldn’t help but laugh when he showed up at my door. He had three good sized bags of what I presumed to be toys in tow. We sat down and talked since we’d kind of skipped over the getting to know you part earlier. He showed me his toys, many of them crafted by him personally and I knew we were in for a hell of a day.
He pulled out a particularly vicious looking impact toy which he called a dragon’s tail. He was a tapered strip of leather attached to a wooden handle. I was curious to its effects so he had me expose one of my breasts. I heard the crack of the whip and a sharp pain on my breast. He told me it hadn’t been a good shot, so he took another. This one connected more thoroughly, but split my skin open. I quickly decided there would be no more of this toy as blood started seeping to the surface.
He was very sweet and apologetic, assuring me it had been a complete accident. He even went so far as to play nurse and put some ointment on. Surprisingly, it never really hurt and I told him I wanted to keep playing. He had a delightful collection of floggers and paddles. Being that my first flogging had only been a few days previous, I wanted to start out slowly. He had an absolutely gorgeous, handmade, Japanese silk rope flogger that he selected first. It was much longer than mine, and had been knotted in the middle. The first blow fell and I was surprised. It was heavier and more intense than mine. But it was by now means too much and I spread my legs for him. Each strike moistened my cunt a little more. And then he’d catch my lips with the ends of the ropes. He was very good at flicking it, it was like getting snapped with a towel in the locker room, but on my cunt. Then he stopped abruptly. The handle had come off the flogger, rendering it useless.
Not to worry however, he had plenty more. He chose, what was, in his opinion, the next softest. It was a redneck fabulous implement. He’d taken 18 inch strips of denim and bound them together. I readied myself and screamed at the first hit. It was most definitely not soft. Over and over he flogged. I’ve noticed I have certain spots that are more sensitive than others and he seemed to be able to sniff them out. I’d kind of fallen from the couch to the floor, but still had my ass exposed. I would push it up or pull in, trying to expose areas that weren’t as raw. By now, every hit had me screaming, especially when he hit the backs of my thighs. He paused momentarily, only to select his wooden paddle. It was a pretty standard paddle, about 14 inches long, and smooth. My ass was sore and inflamed, but was so far lacking the stinging and burning that is derived from a paddling.
His hits were quick and hard. He struck my cheeks, my legs, even forced my legs further apart to swat at my pussy lips. I’m discovering there is quite a range between how much pain is pleasurable for me and how much pain I can handle. This was well beyond the pleasurable stage and was boring on unbearable. When it boils down to it, I’m not much of a masochist. Finally I did give in, I collapsed and said I’d had enough. My ass was stinging, even sitting back on the carpet was painful.
Roman is a huge proponent for male chastity and even practices self imposed chastity. He had wanted to come over caged up but I declined. After his show of dominance, however, he decided he wanted to switch and asked to put his cock cage on. Now Roman is submissive like I’m submissive. He still controls what is done, and its all about his pleasure, whatever it takes to get him there. So I agreed. He strutted back out of the bedroom, cock locked up and handed me the key. He went back in the bedroom and I hid the key in the freezer. Then we brainstormed on what we wanted to do. I tried not to let him know that I was hesitant to use a strap on right away, as I’d only actually used one once. So we decided that we would start with some fingering and prostate play.
Roman’s main kink is being restrained and he has a myriad of homemade bonds. Once I’d figured them out, I had him bound facedown on the bed, pretty thoroughly immobile. But now I had an issue, I wanted to stick my fingers up his ass, but I didn’t want my long nails to cut him, so I decided to run to the store. I left him, still tied up, waiting for me. The store was a quick trip and I was back in about 15 minutes. He was a delightful site to come home to. I knew there was nothing that he wanted more than for me to put that glove on and push a finger inside him.
So I did, a glove, some lube, and a firm insertion. He moaned as I did. He asshole wasn’t as vicelike as some of the other men I’ve encountered which was a pleasant surprise for me. I immediately found his prostate and started rubbing it. He began moaning and bucking his hips like a bronco. I could feel room for more, so I inserted another finger. He’d told me that he’d never cum this way and I was determined to make him. I have never had a partner, male or female so animated as Roman. I’ve promised next time that he will be saran wrapped for the sheer reason of keeping him still. He could not keep still, he was grinding my fingers, then trying to escape from them. I tried sitting on his legs to pin him down, but he was stronger than he looked and it wasn’t much use. I knew I had him on the edge and I wanted that release. Finally after struggling to probe him, he told me that he could never cum with the cage on. He was edging, but would not release. I was extremely disappointed, as I’ve been able to illicit a prostate orgasm from a caged man in the past. So we untied and removed and took a little breather and several smoke breaks.
I knew he wanted the strap on, so I put it on while he was rinsing the sweat off of him. His harness was absolutely beautiful. I was handmade black leather, with little pink ribbons. I selected the smallest of his dildos, which was still a good seven inches or so and strapped it on. I took the time to snap a picture, which has already been posted. He came out, not knowing what I had on, as I still had my dress on. We went over to the bed and he lay on his back this time. I wasn’t done with my fingers, I still wanted him to cum. He agreed to forgo the restraints. I love tying and being tied, but to me, the purest form of submission is when the submissive partner maintains a position even though they do not want to.
I spread his legs and moved closer to him. I’m fairly sure he felt the hard rubber cock through my dress as I moved up. I lubed my fingers again and plunged in. After about 30 seconds, I was wishing I had the restraints, it was like being at a damn rodeo. I moved closer to try and gain some control, but to no avail. He knew the strap on was there, and I knew he wanted it. So I pulled off my dress and sat there naked, save for a nice sized cock. I coated it with lube and pushed the head against his puckered asshole. Roman really does have a beautiful ass for a man. In it went with a satisfying pop. I held it there for him to accomodate before I started slowly thrusting. My inexperience and lack of flexibility quickly made the position difficult for me and I had him get on all fours instead.
I pushed in again, no hesitation this time. I wanted his loosening asshole to swallow this cock. And it did splendidly. I’d almost met my match as an anal slut. I started thrusting harder, long, deep strokes. He was moaning, but staying relatively still. I went harder, grabbing his ass like so many men have grabbed mine. I slammed into him time and time again. God I felt so powerful. As he was wont to do, Roman had a suggestion, he wanted to ride me. I was slightly unnerved by the idea but agreed.
I lay on my back, erect phallus sticking up as he lowered himself on to it. He began riding, sliding up and down on my cock. I grabbed his small dick and began stroking it. I was bound and determined to make this man cum. As I stroked harder, he rode harder. We were both covered in lube, and a few of my own fluids. He looked at me as he came. My hand working his dick, my cock in his ass. I made the mistake of not aiming very well and ended up with his cum all over my body and face. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. I don’t even let doms give me facials and now I’d ended up with the submissive partners cum all over me.
Another shower, another smoke break and we’d regrouped. I lay on the bed and toyed with myself as he smoked. He had a g-spot attachment for my magic wand that he insisted I try. I came in 30 seconds, squirting everywhere. Up to this point, I hadn’t had much luck in self inflicted squirting so I was quite delighted. He had me do it at least 2 more times before I took a break. I had other things I wanted to pursue.
He had a 10 inch dildo that I was determined to take. He knew his little dick wasn’t going to do anything for me, so he donned the strap on. I lay back and he pushed it in my soaking cunt. It bottomed me out immediately with a couple inches to spare. I was a little too big for my cunt, I have to agree. He couldn’t fuck with the force he wanted as it kept hitting my cervix, which is extremely painful for me. My moans of pleasure were intermingled with the occasional scream of pure pain. So he swapped it out for a smaller one, only 8 inches. I did a little better, but not much. I’ve been fucking too many poorly endowed men lately and my vaginal depth has suffered, I suppose I need to exercise more. I came once, painfully and decided that was enough. I really wanted that big one in my ass anyway.
Roman cleaned off the dildo and I bent over this time, he lubed it well and pushed it against my puckered asshole. I hadn’t had much in it all day, a finger here and there but that was it. The head popped in and he pushed deeply. It felt fantastic, there was no bottom here, but there was definitely a point of depth where it became extremely uncomfortable. In and out his fake cock went, I suppose its hard to be truly dominant when one is wearing a cock instead of using their own but he made a go of it. He was fucking me hard and slapping my ass even harder. My fingers found my clit and worked feverishly. I felt the tension building and I begged for harder. It was granted and I exploded. There was very nearly a puddle on the bed. I could feel how stretched open my ass was and I wish we’d taken the time to capture that.
I begged for the bigger dildo, so he put it on and lubed it up. I’m pretty sure we went through half of a large bottle of lube that day. The head penetrated my stretched ass easily and he started sliding deep. At about 7 inches of it, it started becoming uncomfortable, but I was determined so I told him to keep going. He thrust in and out, trying to loosen me, working it in, inch by inch. The deepest we got was about 8 inches of it, maybe a little bit more. So I stopped focusing on the depth and just enjoyed the width of this massive cock. It was far bigger than any mans would be, particularly Roman’s. Every time he pulled out, I could feel my ass just gaped open to the world. It was amazing. I honestly don’t remember if I came or not, I probably did. But we ended our marathon session with my asshole thoroughly stretched.
Well I’ve been busy, my writing has had a hard time keeping up with my play. After mutual tough days at work, Dennis and I decided to get together on Saturday night. He’d liked the outfit I’d had on when he came over on Thursday and requested something similar. I settled on red thigh high stockings, a red garter belt and a pink and red thong. I left my still bruised breasts exposed. When he walked in, I was sitting on the couch, legs apart. I stood up and did a little spin, I wanted his approval. It was granted and he sat me back down. Then he knelt between my legs and started rubbing through my wet panties. I leaned back and spread wide for him. He pulled the thong to the side and licked me from clit to asshole. It was rare that I got oral attention from a dom type and I was loving it.
Soon the thong was all the way off and I was kneeling on the couch, ass pushed out in a position usually reserved for spanking. His clothes had found their way off and his hard cock had found my exposed asshole. He’d used the wetness from my cunt to moisten the head, so he pushed it in slowly. I pushed back against him and my hole quickly enveloped his dick. Dennis isn’t large, but god he feels good in my ass. His size and our position worked magically for him to stimulate my g spot. Neither one of us took long to finish, me slightly before him. He pulled out, leaving cum oozing out of my ass. I could feel it dripping down my legs as he led me to the bedroom.
I lay down on the bed on my back. He found my bed restraints and soon I was rendered immobile. Then he found my scarf and covered my eyes with it. I was completely exposed to him and thoroughly helpless. I listened to his movements, and with the help of a good sense of smell, deduced that he had gotten my burning candle out of the bathroom. I’d had candle wax dripped on me once between and had not liked the feeling. I protested, but my cries were in vain.
Then I felt the first splash of liquid wax and everything changed. He was using my large Yankee candles and quite a pool of wax had built up. The first application coated my entire left nipple and beaded off down the side of my breast. He was hot and burned a slight amount, but it was not unpleasant. It was quite the opposite. I began moaning as each stream of molten paraffin found my skin. He coated each of my nipples, then ran rivulets down my torso. He made sure my pubic mound was well exposed to his sadism. He dripped it just down to where my lips began to part, then back up. Then down each side of my inner thighs until I was almost encased. He stood back to admire his work and snapped a few pictures. I was quite wet and was aching to be pleasured. I desperately wanted something inside me, but not what I was about to get.
I’d made a preset for Dennis based on a story he’d told me. I took a 16 oz water bottle and froze it and then let it melt slightly. So when the plastic was cut away, I was left with a very nice ice dildo. I’ve always enjoyed having ice cubes used on me, but they melt quickly. The dildo started liquefying as soon as it touched my wax covered nipple. I had a nice little shield to protect me from the cold burn and I commented to Dennis on this. His response was to take the stick down my body where I had much less protection. I was gasping every time it touched. Slowly he worked down to my exposed cunt. Up and down my slit he ran this evil, frozen phallus. I was trying my best to squirm away from him, but to no avail. Without warning, he plunged his icy toy deep inside me. I screamed as he began fucking me. He had created a veritable waterfall from my pussy as the ice bit at my tender internal flesh. I was bucking my hips and resisting, but was given no reprieve. Deeper and harder he worked into me, I knew I wouldn’t last until the damn thing melted. Finally I managed to twist away, the restraints hadn’t been applied properly and he stopped. When he got up and put the dildo back in the freezer, I was eternally grateful.
When he came back, we fixed the restraints and he promised to warm me up again. He’d lit a couple more candles and we now had large pool of wax with which to work. The warming feeling was just what I had needed and I melted like butter. I would have done anything that man had asked. After he had filled his entire canvas and recorded it for posterity, he took a knife and began to scrape it off of me. I like knives anyway, and the feeling of a cold steel blade against my flesh was invigorating to say the least finally I was all clean. He took the restraints off and bade me turn over. I was anticipating more wax but was in for a surprise.
No sooner had the cuffs been tightened then I felt the harsh crack of a belt across my ass. I screamed as much in surprise as anything else. By the next hit I was ready. Lash after lash fell, reddening my ass cheeks and moistening my cunt. I was crying out with each blow, but had no desire for any cessation. I suppose the plan was to have my flesh hot and stinging and then apply hot wax. I can only imagine how that would have felt. But an unfortunate phone call cut our evening short with the promise of to be continued…
Note: I thought I would try a different type of story and viewpoint. Please send me feedback on your thoughts and any ways to improve. I’m open to all comments. Hope you enjoy!
Since you seem to like tying me up and being a bit of a dom, I thought I’d share a little fantasy with you and see if you like it. Be forewarned, it’s explicit, dirty, and beyond anything we’ve ever talked about. If you’re curious, read on. It goes something like this:
It’s late in the evening, but not too late and we’ve been drinking. Doing some shots specifically. You lead me back into the bedroom and tell me to strip for you as you watch in your thin tank top and pajama bottoms. I’m pretty sure you’re not wearing anything underneath. I can see your nipples getting hard as I take everything off, but the room is dark lit only by a faint salt lamp.
You tell me to lay down on the bed naked and put my arms over my head. And that’s when it happens. You grab each of my arms and quickly tie them down with the restraints that were hidden somewhere near the bed. I’m struggling but can’t seem to move and while I’m working to free my arms, it goes unnoticed that you’ve done the same to my feet. I am now completely helpless, unable to move except for some small writhing motions to each side, but it’s futile.
You smile; pleased at your work. Feeling bold you quickly take my cock in your mouth and begin sucking and bobbing on it fast, making it grow to its full attention. You stop and with a loud audible “pop” release it from your mouth. Giving it a light pat, you tell me to keep it hard and that you’ll be right back. I attempt to question you and that’s when you change. Smacking my cock hard and squeezing it mercilessly, you tell me to stop asking questions and obey. Then you leave the room.
I am left wondering what’s going on. It seems like forever, I can hear water running and then it stops. I assume you’re showering or taking a bath. Finally, after what seems an eternity, you return. Your hair is pulled back in ponytail and your makeup is immaculately done. You’re wearing only a black lace garter, thigh-high stockings, and heels. Nothing else. You look amazing and completely in control.
You stand by the bed and ask if I like it. I grunt, almost whimpering in approval. And that’s when you smack my cock again and squeeze it hard. Grabbing my face with your other hand, you instruct me that the only appropriate responses for the evening will be “Yes, mistress” or “No, mistress” everything else will result in punishment of some form. You ask if I understand and I reply correctly. You ask me again if I like your outfit and I respond in the correct form again.
You mount me, straddling my face. I can smell the wonderful combination of you freshly showered, your perfume, and womanly aroused scent, and am treated the most beautiful vision of your completely bald pussy, but I can’t reach you to lick you. You tell me that I didn’t do as I was told as let myself get soft. For that I am going to be punished and will only be allowed to watch.
Then in front of my face, you begin masturbating. You’re plunging your fingers in and out, getting wetter and I can smell your arousal building. You reach for a small bottle of lube, coating both your hands. I watch as one hand slides down your front and the other down your back and you begin touching yourself again. You pause for a moment, tensing and then relaxing. Turning, you show me your fingers, two buried deep in your pussy, one probing your ass. “I bet you wish this was your hand so you could feel how tight I am. Or better yet your cock. Oh God, my ass is sooo tight…” you moan and I am powerless but to watch.
You cum hard right above my face and then grind your pussy forcefully over my lips and nose. “Lick it clean you perv,” you snap and you grab my very erect member. When you’re satisfied, you crawl off me and begin teasing me with your mouth. Without warning, you stop and squat over me, plunging your sex down onto me roughly. You’re fucking me fast and I can’t last long. I can see your hands behind you and feel an increased tightness as you finger your ass. I cum as you squeeze me with your internal muscles.
Collapsing onto me while I’m still inside you, you catch your breath. Lifting yourself off, you let our mixed juices pour out over my stomach and don’t bother to wipe them off. “When you don’t obey me, you get messy! Is that understood?” you demand. I do not reply correctly and you act angry. You pull out a large dildo from the drawer by the nightstand and tell me that I’m about to be taught a lesson.
Furiously you begin masturbating again and order me to get hard again. I can’t as I just came. You begin insulting me telling me you wish my cock was a big as the dildo. You continue fucking yourself with the large plastic dick, alternating between shoving in yourself, slapping me with it from time to time, and sometimes even shoving it my mouth forcing me to taste myself, you, the lube, and the plastic together.
I’ve grown hard again finally. “I’m going to fuck you now,” you say coldly. “If you cum before I say you can, I’ll make you lick the cum clean out of my pussy. Do you understand?” I respond correctly. You mount me again, this time facing away from me. You’re fucking me hard and fast again. You make me watch as again you begin fingering your ass again. Then without warning, you shove a finger in my ass too and suddenly the whole world descends into chaos. We’re fucking with reckless abandon as you finger both our asses; I hear you screaming at me to cum and as I feel begin to feel you orgasm, I lose control too and release inside you.
Undoing the restraints when our bliss subsides, you fall back into me as we hold each other in a passionate embrace. “I love you, honey” you whisper. There are small tears of love and joy in your eyes, “Thank you for letting me do this.” Breathless from the encountered, I manage a very soft and tender reply, “I love you too.”