masturbation

**this is fiction, and fantasy. none of it has happened. and its the first time writing a story like this, so sorry if its not that good**







Little info about me I’m 18, and still live at home with my dad, my mom isn’t in the picture so its just me and him. I’m still in school, and my dad leaves about the same time I do.



After my dad left I decided to stay home, was not feeling too well, well that is kind of an understatement I was horny as hell and was not feeling too well to go to school cause of it. I already have to change my panties because they are so wet. Now the reason they are wet is a bad reason, horrible thoughts I should not be thinking.



This morning I caught my dad coming out of the shower, just a towel wrapped around his waist. Now my dad is hot for someone his age, he is 37years old and he stands about 5’9 and weighs around 190lbs. so he is in good shape. The towel just barely fits around his waist and so there is a little spot where there is a space at the bottom and where it was at it I could see the tip of my dad’s cock. I know a lot of girls my age (I am only 18) would find it gross to think about their dad’s or anyone his age like this. However, I get so wet and horny thinking about sucking his cock and feeling it going in and out of my body. Think about becoming his little slut or fuck toy. Gets me so turned on and makes me cum so hard thinking about it.



Well I decided to go back up to my room and grab my vibrator and just lay on the couch just wearing a long shirt. As I start to move my vibrator in and out, I started moaning. Calling out daddy please, fuck me daddy. About an hour later, when I was about to cum and moaning daddy yes make me cum for the second time the front door open.



“Ashlei, What are you doing home? You are supposed to be at school!” my dad yelled as he saw me on the couch. Thankfully, I had enough time to hide my vibrator.



“I wasn’t feeling well daddy, I didn’t think it would hurt to miss one day of school.” I said sitting up looking innocently, Wishing I had more clothes on then this long shirt, and praying he didn’t hear me moaning and saying daddy..



“Ashlei, stand up!” I stood up quickly. “Do you really think I believe that lie? I heard you. You were playing with that cunt of yours. I can still smell the sex in the air. You really want to be daddy to fuck you. Well you are going to get it. You going to become daddy’s new slut, you understand slut?”



I nodded slowly, not knowing what to say.



“Bend over the couch and lift that shirt, better yet take it off, I need to see my new fuck toy naked.” My dad said looking at me with a twinkle in his eye and what to look like an evil grin on his face.



I just stood there, frozen in place,”bitch, when I tell you to do something do it!” my dad said in an angry voice and he grabs my arm and moved me over to the side of the couch. “Take the shirt off now!” I slowly took it off wrapping my arms around my body, feeling a little scared; I have never seen my dad like this. However, I also knew he was angry with me skipping school. “Bend over the couch now. You are going to be getting 15swats with my belt. If you move, five more will come. You understand?”



I nodded, and bent over the side of the couch, having my head right against the seat cover. I knew better to waste time. I would just get more. I hear my dad move to left side of me. hear him undo his belt seconds later I hear the belt swish through the air and land with a hard and loud smack against my bare ass.. I screamed out as I felt the belt hit my ass and the pain and heat spread on my ass. Swish I hear again only seconds later and another smack lands across my ass. I howl in pain. Swish, smack, swish, smack, is the only thing I hear for the next few minutes. As tears roll down my face, knowing only a few more left. After the last few smacks of the belt, my 15 swats are over.



I feel my dad’s hand over my ass rubbing the tender skin that is bright red all over. “Look at that ass, all nice and round. You know this ass was made for spankings. Now I want you to go up those stairs and into my bedroom get on your knees and wait there for me.”



I start to pick up my shirt, but he snatches away from me. “No, leave it here, now move,” he says as he smacks my tender red ass. I hurried up the stairs and opened the door to his bedroom and as I was told I got on my knees and waiting. I wanted to rest my bottom again my heels but every time I did, pain rushed through my body. Few minutes later I hear his feet climb the stairs. As he opens the door, he unbuttons his pants and pushes them down along with his boxers. As his cock sprang free, I saw he was already semi hard. Steps out of his pants and walks over to me. “Open your mouth, going to suck my cock” as I open my mouth, he rams his cock into my mouth making me gag, and choke on it. “Yes that’s a good slut, gag on it,” he says as he grabs the back of my head and starts fucking my mouth. It hurts so much, gagging on his cock, I thought being with daddy would be gentle nothing like this. I hope that he is not like this when or if he fucks my pussy.



After a few minutes of him fucking my mouth, he pulls out and tells me to get on the bed on my hands and knees. He goes to the closets and grabs some rope. He walks back to the bed, pushes my head down, tells me to put my arms straight out, he ties my hands together, and then ties them to the headboard. Walking back to the end of the bed, he tells me to spread my legs. My arms are hurting being stretched out like this. Suddenly he rams his huge cock into my pussy, I scream out. Thankfully, my pussy was still little wet from earlier.



“Oh gawd your pussy feels so great, Ashlei.” He says as he pulls out and then rams back in. thankfully I am not a virgin, but it still hurts so much, but it also feels so good. Knowing it is my daddy’s cock is the one whose fucking my pus ssy just makes me wetter. Building me up to an orgasm. Slamming his hard cock in and out of me, suddenly I start to cum all over his cock.



“That’s a good slut, cum all over daddy’s cock, because you’ll need It.” he pulls out and starts to slap my ass again. Squirming around I feel a hand pull my ass cheek apart and hear him spit on my anus. He starts to push a finger into me.



“Daddy please don’t, please not my ass,” I plead.



“If you going to be daddy’s slut, then you better get used to it, and be lucky I’m giving you some sort of lube for it.” He pulls out and I start to feel the head of his cock push inside my ass. I start to strain against the ropes that hold me and pleading and crying for daddy not to fuck my ass. As the head of his cock pushes in, I cry out in pain.



“Daddy it hurts too much, daddy please takes it out”



“get ready baby, it’s all going in now” in one big thrust all of his cock is deep in my ass, I start to scream and cry, it feels like he’s tearing me in two. He starts to pump into my ass hard and fast. It hurts so much; I think I am going to die from this. He starts slapping my ass, as he pumps into it. Finally, he shoots all his hot cum into my ass. He pulls out, and walks to the headboard and unties the rope that is attached to the headboard. He pulls me around so my head is hanging off the side of the bed and he tells me to open my mouth. As I open, he slides his cock into my mouth and starts fucking my mouth again, but gently this time. I look up at him and I see so much love in his eyes. After I sucked him clean, he went left the room and I heard the bath running. He came back, picked me up, and carried me into the bathroom. He gave me a bath, just like he use to do when I was younger. After the bath he dried me off and then again carried me back into his bedroom and laid me down on his bed, and laying down next to me with his arms around me. It did not take long before I fell asleep. Later that night, after dinner, he took me back to his bedroom and had sex with me soft and slow.



and from that day, I’ve been daddy’s new slut, and he loved using my holes, roughly or soft. but whenever he wants, i must be ready.

Upon first sighting of Samantha Marbalene, Tony gave his initial rundown of her. This was routine with every girl he saw—whether he was looking at her to judge sexually or not. He liked to think of himself as a high-classed man, not a low-life scumbag who checks out every girl he sees. But for as long as he’s known himself sexually, he cannot simply look at a woman and not her assets. He keeps his thoughts to himself, of course, but it doesn’t stop him from thinking.



Samantha took a seat in the front row of the lecture hall. She wore cutoff shorts, a low-scoop, black tank top, All-Star converse shoes, and had her short, blonde hair pulled back with a black headband. A glorious red flower pinned next to her temple. She was tanned with a faultless frame, sparkling deep blue eyes and a smooth face. There wasn’t a doubt in Tony’s mind that she was perfect. The tops of her mounds on her chest poked through her hugging top, her legs were long and muscular, luscious as she crossed them in her desk. A flat stomach hid beneath her clothes, and she had a single star tattoo on the top of her arm.



Her eyes flickered up to his as she got out her notebook and set it on her desk. A flash of a breath-taking smile flitted at her lips before they went smooth and pursed again and she looked down. Tony took a deep breath to corral his thoughts, but immediately his mind went off on a thousand different erotic fantasies of her. How could she be sitting there so nonchalantly and not notice the dazzling beauty she brought with her?



His first sighting of her sent a surge of desire through his body, that sizzled in his cock threatening to bulge out of his pants. Perhaps the most desirable part about her was that she was completely forbidden—off-limits in the most frustrating way. She was a student, maybe twenty years old at the oldest, and delicately innocent in this world.



Tony hastily recomposed himself and stood at the head of the lecture room right on the hour. The large class of 300 students grew quiet and their eyes gazed on him. He felt like he’d done this routine a thousand times before—first day of classes—but having Samantha Marbalene sitting in a front row desk, watching him incessantly, made everything seem new. For a moment he was at a loss of words, especially as his eyes accidentally brushed over hers for a moment and the fantasies throttled his thoughts. He turned to the whiteboard and wrote out his name.



“Professor Lipton,” he announced. “No substitutes, please. I once had a student call me Iced Tea. Never again…”



A couple of snickers broke out across the classroom. Tony couldn’t help but notice Samantha smiling at his joke. A powerful wave of desire coursed through him again but his eyes wavered before it could take control of him. He paced the room with a marker behind his back.



Tony was a well-loved professor at the university—known for making students feel at home and relaxed with his witty jokes and marvelous sense of humor. Usually, a biology lecture would be gravestone boring. But with him teaching it, a lightness floated about the room and students eagerly awaited his classes. He took pride in that. He liked his job.



Every student filled out a sheet that outlined who they were and what they were majoring in. Most of the time, Tony wouldn’t get around to reading half of them, but he knew he’d look up a particular one as soon as he had the time. He watched diligently from his podium as Samantha filled hers out and dropped it off on the front table before leaving elegantly through the back doors. Tony watched her round, perfect ass disappear through the doors.



Once she was gone, he impatiently waited for the other students to leave, and as soon as he was alone, he sifted through the stack of papers until he found hers at the bottom of the pile. She had curly, neat handwriting that scribbled across the page in black ink. He folded the paper and tucked it into his bag. Tony hardly recognized this sort of behavior—rarely does a random girl catch his eye like that. And never to this sort of obsessive degree. He wondered whether he would start developing a fetish with crushing on his students, and he shivered at the thought.



Regardless of his morals, he got back to his large apartment in downtown and took out Samantha Marbalene’s paper from his bag. He watched the curve of her letters and he was instantly reminded of the curves of her body. A craving from deep inside his gut longed for her. He didn’t understand why she had captured his attention so fully, but it was clear that he would do anything to have his way with her. And in reality that probably won’t happen—she’s a student. What sort of erotic fantasies about a student come true? Tony will soon find out…a lot.



The first month of classes went by in a hazy blur. Tony concentrated on lecturing the students about principals of biology and evolution and before he knew it the next test was right around the corner. He assigned a five-page essay due the day of the test.



And when home alone at night, Tony would think about Samantha Marbalene. She always sat in the front of the classroom with a luxurious wardrobe that thoroughly enhanced her beauty. She would smile occasionally but Samantha was a peculiarly quiet girl—she didn’t converse much with the other students. And by the few questions she’d answered in class, Tony’s concluded she’s astoundingly intelligent. There’s no doubt in his mind that she will ace the upcoming test. It only turned him on more to her. Hearing her voice on those rare occasions, seeing her diligently taking notes and paying attention to what he had to teach, and her profoundly beautiful body was translating into an animalistic craving for her Tony couldn’t ignore. When he’d think about Samantha Marbalene alone at night, his cock would be stick stiff, throbbing to the point of surging pain, and even the most erotic and vigorous masturbation wouldn’t completely satisfy him.



He tried watching porn again to get his mind off of Samantha, but it wasn’t the same as when he was younger. All he wanted, all her hungered for, was her and nobody else.



The next day, Samantha didn’t show up to class. It consumed him with disappointment and worry for her—she never ditched class. He trudged his way to his office in the next building and sat down at his computer, preparing to go through the hundreds of e-mails in his inbox. He was interrupted about ten minutes later by a knock on his door.



He turned and there stood Samantha Marbalene, standing in the doorway to his office. He froze for a second before recomposing himself. She was as beautiful as ever, wearing a blue t-shirt that stopped halfway down her mid-drift and revealed a few inches of delicious tan waist. She also wore a short, frilly white skirt with a pair of sandals. Her eyes watched him, blinking innocently, with those sparkly blue eyes.



“Hello Professor Lipton,” she said in that rich voice, sounding like golden honey in the air. Tony found his mouth watering watching those pink-frosted lips move. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the upcoming test.”



Tony cleared his throat. “Of course, have a seat,” he said, waving to the chair across his desk. Samantha smiled sweetly, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she clutched at the strap of her bag over her shoulder and sat down on her pretty little ass. Damn, Tony wished he was that chair and he imagined how it’d feel to have those round, bony ass cheeks wiggling in his lap. His cock throbbed under the desk with the thought. “What can I help you with?” he asked.



Samantha folded her hands in her lap and stared relentlessly at him. There was s light pink flush in her cheeks. “I didn’t totally understand the stages of mitosis material you covered. You mentioned something about crossing over but I didn’t catch what exactly that was. It’s been bothering me.”



Tony just smiled to her and flipped through some folders until he found the printed PowerPoint slides describing and illustrating crossing over. He handed the packet to her and diligently went through each process. It wasn’t so simple as teaching a lost student about the material, because it was Samantha. As Tony talked, he couldn’t but notice she didn’t once look down at the papers in front of them, she just watched him. When he finished, Samantha thanked him shyly and tucked the papers away into her bag. Tony leaned back in his chair but carefully hid the protruding tent in his pants from her view.



“You’re a really good student, Samantha,” he said. “I missed you today in class.”



Samantha bit her lip endearingly with a sheepish smile and her cheeks turned pink. His dick was suddenly even harder, if that was even possible. “Oh…I was writing the essay.” She nodded her head as she met his eyes. “I’m writing it on twins, actually.”



“Really?” he asked, raising his eyebrows impressively. “Why twins?”



“I had one once,” she said. Tony leaned forward again with interest. “But she died when we were infants. We were born connected, you know? The stages of mitosis got screwed up in the womb and we had the same skull fused together. My sister had to die in order for me to survive, or the other way around.” She leaned forward and pulled back some of her shiny, short blonde hairs on her skull and revealed a bumpy pink scar along her scalp. Tony nodded with interest.



“Fascinating,” he concurred. “I can see why you’d want to write about it.” He paused, eying her.



“I brought it with me…I was wondering if you’d want to read it?” she asked. He nodded, fingering her to hand it over.



“Of course, I’d be happy to,” he said. Smiling eagerly, she dove into her bag and pulled out her essay, handing it over. He flipped it to the first page and read it all the way through as she waited patiently for him to finish. As he read the last sentence and looked up, she was smiling in a much-too-unfairly seductive way. His cock still throbbed with yearning in his pants and he began to feel a dribble of precum coat his underwear. Slowly, he set the papers down, just watching her.



“It’s very good,” he said. Samantha smiled even brighter.



“Thank you,” she purred. She took her papers back and stood up to leave. “Anyway, I’ll leave you be. Thanks again, Professor.”



She was at the doorway when Tony felt like a rubber band snap into his face. He didn’t know why all of his morals suddenly flew out the window behind him but he called at her. “Samantha, wait!”



She swung around, her eyes open and curious.



“I’d like to talk with you,” Tony said, waving to the chair again. Samantha closed the door and took a seat without question.



“About what?” she wondered.



“About you.”



He really couldn’t believe he was being honest with her. Why was he dooming himself to revealing his true feelings?



Samantha tilted her head and smiled innocently. “What about me?”



“You’re a very fascinating student,” Tony supplied lamely. “I’d like to know more about you.”



“Okay…like what?”



“Where are you from?” he started.



“Ohio,” she said. “Went to high school there and everything. Moved out here to study biology.”



“Good choice,” he said. She giggled under her breath shyly. “Are you enjoying it here?”



“Very much so.”



“Friends? Boyfriend?”



Samantha chuckled with a pink flush in her cheeks. “I’ve made a few new friends, but no boyfriend, no. I don’t think I’m the boyfriend type, actually. Too busy and all that.”



Tony grinned triumphantly and he hoped it didn’t come off that way. If it did, Samantha didn’t notice and her innocent expression didn’t change. He tried to come up with another question but he found himself just laughing without anything to say.



“What?” she asked with a giggle.



“Uh…” He rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Samantha, I…”



Both went quiet for a while and he chuckled a few more times.



“I’m very attracted to you,” he admitted.



Samantha giggled once before her expression turned to one of a surprise. But it wasn’t a disgusted surprise, she actually raised her eyebrows with a sly smile. “What?” she asked again.



“Uh…”



“You’re attracted to me?” she repeated. Tony sighed and nodded, meeting her eyes as he swung back his hair.



“Yes. Very,” he said. Samantha held a placid expression for a while until it exploded into a very sexy, intrigued curiosity. Her eyes flickered over him as she was gaining bravery with that knowledge. He couldn’t move. He expected her to feel uncomfortable and excuse herself from the suddenly tense room, but she did the opposite. She leaned in closer to him, still smiling.



“Well, I think you’re hot,” she said softly, seductively. Her eyes flickered downwards until they met his fascinated eyes again. “All the girls who take your class fantasize about you. Even me. I mean, you’re young and you’re attractive…” Tony thought Samantha was innocent. He found out he was sadly mistaken of that fact.



“I’m easily ten years older than you are,” Tony blurted. Samantha looked sideways at him with fake hurt.



“I just turned twenty, thank you very much.” Tony looked upwards with a smile and nodded his head from side to side in thought.



“Alright, eight then,” he admitted. Samantha giggled as she stood up from her chair. She checked to make sure the door was shut and there were no windows (none besides the one that faced the wall of trees and bushes outside) before she strode over to his side of the desk. As soon as she rounded the corner her eyes glanced to his bulge and fixated there as she licked her lips



“Just say no if you want me to stop,” she murmured softly as she approached him. He said nothing so she continued. “I’m really wet…” She stuck her hand down the front of her skirt, into her panties, and when she pulled it back out her fingers were glistening with her abundant juices. Tony nearly came right then and an animalistic growl escaped from his throat. He couldn’t help himself and reached forward and grabbed her thighs, pulling her on top of him on the chair. To finally feel her skin, to feel her on top of him, his hands on her precious body, Tony felt a distinct tightening in his balls that fired a full erection in his pants.



Samantha’s pink lips found his and she played with him sensually before he parted her mouth and explored her tongue with his own. She tasted sweet like honey. A little tangy, too, like his favorite fruit. She moaned delicately and his hands clutched her waist before pulling up her shirt and releasing her breasts from her bra. Her shirt and bra fell to the floor and her breasts dangled loosely in front of him. She clutched at his hair as he leaned forward and sucked one pointed coral nipple into his mouth and played with the hardened tip with his tongue. She gasped with delight as he bit playfully and continued to flick with his tongue. He released her breast and found her mouth again as he settled her on top of his desk.



Breathing hard with arousal, they both scrambled impatiently to get the objects on the table out of the way. A box of pencils fell to the floor and scattered right as Tony reached under her skirt and rubbed against her amazingly soaked silk panties. Samantha threw her head back with a cry as he stroked faster. He pulled her panties down to her ankles and touched her sweet, wet folds of her pussy with his hands. He opened her lips and rubbed delicately at her red, beaded clit with his index finger. As he flicked and tapped in circles her cries grew increasingly louder with an approaching climax.



“Put your fingers in there,” she asked, her voice coarse with desire and lust. She grabbed one of his hands and put his fingers in his mouth. She moaned as he lubed one of his fingers with his spit and carefully penetrated her tight, clenching pussy hole. It was so hot and moist and alive in there and he longed to have his cock penetrate that cave and have her muscles milk around his shaft.



He slid his finger in and out of her, slowly and first and then he increased speed and Samantha writhed on the desktop, gasping in pleasure as her pussy muscles continued to take him in and clench around his fingers. He found her clit with his tongue and flicked a few times before taking it between his lips and licked incessantly, unleashing a torrent of pleasure to her. Her body shook with her orgasm as her strangled cries pierced the room. Her hands knotted into his hair and pressed his face closer to her as he continued to lick her pussy and finger fuck her.



“Tony!” she cried. He was surprised she used his first name. Had she rehearsed this? “Oh, Tony!”



Her muscles tightened in her pleasure around his fingers and her hips rocked erotically against his face as her orgasm continued for another moment or so. Her pussy tasted sweeter than her mouth as her juices dribbled out around his fingers and around his tongue. She breathed heavy, shaky breaths in the aftermath of her orgasm and he removed his fingers and surfaced his face. He needed to be inside her—he longed for his achingly throbbing cock to feel what his fingers felt. She shimmied out of her skirt and tossed it aside as Tony slid his pants down his legs and finally unleashed his stiff cock to fresh air. It twitched with the new room it had to expand and grow even larger. Samantha watched it with interest as he rubbed it once with his hands before he aimed it towards her eagle-spread legs and pressed his precum-coated head into the sensitive entrance of her pussy.



He pushed his way inside her extremely tight hole and she moaned in pleasure at each stroke. Her muscles clenched at him and he groaned loudly as he began to thrust lightly in his lusty hunger. Her pussy expanded and tightened as he thrust and the wildly hot and moist cave had his balls squeezing tighter and tighter and a growing heat began at the back of his spine. Samantha looked up at him with her eyes wide with lust and her mouth open in a moan and surprise as his balls and thighs slapped against her ass. He increased the speed of his thrusts and Samantha’s mouth fell open in ecstasy and she came hard, her body thrashing as fantastically as her pussy muscles around his cock.



“Ohhh, Samantha,” Tony groaned under his breath. “God, Samantha…so fucking beautiful.”



She squeaked wordlessly in response.



Tony felt his release spurt inside her, again and again, as his seed burst up into her pussy and she milked him with her orgasm. The heat from his spine shot forward through his cock with his last stream of spunk into her crevice. He groaned in release as she moaned softly, shaking in her aftermath. He removed his cock of her hole and it was covered in cum and a few streams of it dribbled out of her hole and down her ass and pooled on his desk. It was fucking hot.



He rubbed his softening cock as his balls loosened again and his penis lost its stiffness. Samantha got up from the desk and bent over, exposing her white, luscious tushy to him. He grabbed those incredible soft ass cheeks and licked at the entrance to her anus. She moaned and her knees quivered as he teased her with his tongue. He inserted a finger into her pussy and lubed it with cum and then rubbed it all along the opening to her asshole. The rose-shaped muscles of her sphincter loosened and he gently poked his wet finger into her hole up to the first joint. He poked her, in and out, until she loosened completely and she was gasping in content, pleasure, and arousal. She began to shake, her thighs twitching.



Tony’s cock hardened again within a moment and eagerly he stood up and eased his dickhead around the opening of her anus and tickled her sphincter. She moaned a whine as she reached back and stroked his cock once with her hand and then guided him towards her anus and had him penetrate her.



“Fuck me there,” she pleaded. “Fuck my ass.”



He pushed his way inside and started to slide against the walls of her ass. She gasped in pain and pleasure and slowly her muscles relaxed and she was groaning energetically with each of his thrusts. Feeling her white-hot muscles around his cock was heaven, the smooth interior of her ass sucking at him and giving as he shoved deeper each time.

Disclaimer: All characters are over the age of 18. This is intended for mature audiences only. The following is a fictitious story based on the Characters created by The Author, and is not meant to be taken as Canon within the context of his regular work.



Warning: Do not try this at home without consulting a physician first. This is a really fucking hot story that should not be ready by anyone easily offend by two people making love in the privacy of their own house. If you are easily offended by natural love making between two consenting heterosexual adults, go fuck yourself and read something else. Do not read this story if you have a heart condition or you doctor says you are unable to have sex. If you have an erection lasting more then four hours after reading this story, please contact a physician, or take a cold shower. It is really fucking hot.



To Angela, whom I plan on cleaning a lot of showers with.




*



I was tired and sore from a long day. All I wanted to do was to rest for a little bit. I stepped on the cold linoleum floor, peeling off my funky smelling, sweat stained shirt. I turned on the water, test the temperature against my sun-soaked arms. The thundering sound of the water drowned out all other noise, but it was soothing. The simple white bra I wore clung to my breasts in the summer heat, soaked with sweat and begging to be taken off, in more ways then one. Slowly, I peeled off my jeans, silently admonishing my dumb ass for wearing them in this muggy heat of Minnesota. I inched them tenderly past my sore thighs and bruised calves. Finally, they slipped off. I let them joined the pile of clothes that was gathering in the corner. Sitting down on the toilet, I reached over to turn on to bath water. The roaring sound of the bath drowned out my contend sigh as I reached around my back to thumb off my bra. My breasts bounced of my ribs as they were release from their waterlogged cage. But it was a relief to get the damn thing off. Generally, I only wear one when I am in public or my mother insist (which was always). Otherwise, I just let them bounce and sway in the wind. Besides, letting the girls out means they can entertain themselves underneath my shirt if I walk the right way. I stood up from the toilet, groaning as I stretched my legs and thumbed my blue and pink panties off my body.



Just regular panties, guys. Enough to cover my ass and my pussy. The design I got to distinguish them from others. It’s mainly from my older sister, who tends to raid my closet and for some God-forsaken reason, my panties drawer. (The slut already has about twenty different lace little ass-flossers, much to my mother’s dismay. Why does she need my regular panties?).But, recently, it had come in handy for picking up my panties out of John’s house, and not picking up his little sister’s by accident.



And no…don’t ask where we were having sex where my panties were mixing with hers…it’s a long story. But no, she wasn’t home at the time of the act.



Anyways, the bathtub was filling with warm water. I stopped the flow when it was filled enough, and threw in a dash of bath salts for good measure. I eased my aching body into the inviting water. A sigh of relief left my lips as my body settled into the warm water. It wasn’t that deep, being as it was 90 some degrees outside with a near seventy percent humidity. I could stretched my five and a half foot frame out, and my buoyant B-cup breasts were still floating on the water. However, it was damn comfortable to be in that warm water.



Especially after the long day of working in the yard and hanging out with the youth group.



I leaned back into the water, messaging my aching neck. My free left hand wandered up and splashed water over my breasts. The warm water evaporated off my skin, pulling heat out of my body and slowly steaming up the room. My nipples rose up in interest, but I ignored them for now. Soap hadn’t even came out yet; I just relaxed and let the warm water relax tense muscles for a few minutes. A knock came on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?” Said a familiar male voice.



I smiled and rolled over in the tub to cover breasts. Not that modesty was needed between us. It was just courteous to not flash ones breasts in front of your boyfriend unless you wanted them played with. “Sure.” The door opened and John, just as tired and sweaty as I was from the long day, walked in. He was still in his clothes though, as he actually dressed for the weather. “Still tired from the bike trip, dear?” John said smugly.



“Shut up, ass hole.” I splashed some water up towards him. “You’re not the one who took that huge fall off your bike”



“No.” He pulled a towel off the rack and sat down on it, next to me…the latter whom was still very naked and in the bathtub, “I actually stayed on the trial, and not tried racing the kids today.” I dunked my head underneath the water and groaned. “My butt still hurt from that.” I said, looking over to my round ass sitting just underneath the the water.



John’s eyes did a once over on my body. I felt a bit like a mermaid sunbathing on the rocks, brushing my hair and tempting sailors with my half exposed form. Yes, the butt is still an erogenous zone. And I know that John loves to play with it. But it was safer then him staring at her breasts or her pussy. The butt was…less interesting to guys for some reason.



What a shame too…



John scooted down to my butt, turning around to still face me. My butt flexed worriedly. “Well, then, Maybe I can help with that.” He rolled up his sleeves to his shoulders and placed his hands in the water. He slowly whirled them in the water to get them at mean temperature. I bit my lip and squirmed underneath him. Water sloshed around in the tub.



“John, I’m really not in the mood to play.”, I said tauntly, almost ready to throw him off me. But the way John placed his hands on the small of my back seemed more therapeutic. There was more of a tender care in the way he held his hands there, not in a possessive ‘want-a-piece-of-that-ass’ type of hold guys had in foreplay.



“I’m not playing…” he said in a low voice, that permeated with confidence. At first, he just kept them there, gauging her reaction to this erotic measure. When she gave him a slight nod, he folded his hand over her spine and squeezed it out A part of me…a small part, felt exhilarated. This was…kinky, hot, and so wrong. But I didn’t let him know about that naughty part. Instead, I let out a content sigh, ignoring the way my nipples curled up in response to his rough hands. I just relaxed under the message as John warm hands worked out the kinks in my back. “This feels really good…” I understated….alot.



“Well I would hope so.” John said, still gently kneading my back in his very skilled hands, “You did a good job today.” He said in an offhanded way. “It was nice how you dealt with Ginny today.”



“Well, I had to do something…” I grumbled a bit at the thought. “Those jerks were giving her a hard time because she couldn’t stay on her bike.”



“And you had to go flying over your handle bars to prove it?” John quipped back.



I rolled over and splashed some water on him. He stood there looking stunned at his soaked shirt as I quickly tucked my breasts underneath my arms. “OK…” he said simply, holding his arms out like a waterlogged bird, “I deserve that.” He then simply stripped the shirt off, revealing his well sculpted abs. I bit my lip and shifted lower into the water as he wrung his shirt off back into my bath, and hung it over the back of the toilet. I kept eying him over as he wiped the excess water from his chest. He looked up and smiled dumbly for me before flexing, unnecessarily. I rolled my eyes, “OK, mister, put those muscles to work and massage my back, please.” I said, settling into the tub and resting my head on top of my hands. Slowly, his hands went back to work, tugging and pushing my flesh back and forth into my body, pulling all of the tense knots out. His hands respectfully stayed firmly on my back, not crossing lower onto my butt proper. However, his fingers did briefly touched the skin of it, somehow sending erotic shivers down my spine…I kinda wanted more…



“Is this good?” He asked, still working his hands underneath the water.



“Lower…” I said carefully, resisting the urge to lift my ass to his face to tempt him some more. Ok, I know it was bad. But it was bad enough of a position to be in with my boyfriend in the bathroom with me. Him shirtless, and me naked. If we were going to do this, might as well have fun with it.



His hands slid about two inches lower down my back, but nowhere close to where they needed to be. “Lower…” I said again, and he slid his hands right to the crease of my butt to my back. I took a steadying breath. “No, Lower…” I said, turning towards him, winking some.



He looked taken aback. “You sure, Sair?” He asked, always the gentleman.



I huffed, “Do I need to spell it out to you, boy?” I asked in exasperation, “An attractive, captive, and very naked young woman just asked you to massage her ass, and you are questioning it?”



He smiled weakly and carefully placed his hands on my butt. “What happened to you not being in the mood?” He asked as his hands went to work. Slowly his hands turned over my butt cheeks. A slightly stronger shiver went up my spine this time.



“I’m not in the mood, but my butt still needs some attention.” I said cheekily, as his skillful hands worked over my entire cheek, from thigh to back. “Just don’t be going to the front, you hear…” I reminded him.



So, dutifully, his hands went to work on my butt, and only my butt. I relaxed into it as his hands worked over it. Small twinges of pleasure relaxed my body, as I struggled to stay afloat on my breasts. At first, I didn’t notice anything, except that my breathing had quickened slightly. John’s hands slowly worked their way into the butt crack itself; perhaps to test his limits, or perhaps to rub the muscle in a new way. My butt involuntarily tensed up, not used to the attention, but loving it. His hands inched back for a bit, but then sneaked back, one massaging a cheek slowly, the other sneaking towards my asshole. I bit my lip, as his fingers danced up and down my crack, each one daring to find my asshole.



Suddenly, his middle finger finally dared to go low enough and stepped right into the nerve bundle. A gasped as the sensation shot straight into my clit. John stayed there, keeping steady pressure on my hole. My vagina swelled up on the other side, getting as wet inside as it was on the outside. I panted for a minute, getting use to the sensations coursing though my body.



“Are you ok?” John said in his low sexy voice.



“Fuck, yeah I am…” I whimpered, trying to hump the bottom of the tub with my excited pussy. “Just be careful.”



“With what?” He said, as he began to swirl his finger around my sensitive asshole. I let a screech out as waves of pleasure vibrated across my body. I could feel my clit starting to peek out from the folds of my pussy, jealous of what my asshole was getting.



A moan echoed out of my open mouth.



“Ohmygod….John…don’t stop…” I panted as my body convulsed underneath me. Water splashed as my legs tried to extended farther out to let him in deeper. “Finger me…”



“What was that, my love?” He leaned over and breathed into my ear.



“Finger my asshole…” I begged, feeling the rush of absolute forbidden badness of the situation crash over me. I didn’t care anymore. My boyfriend was in my parents bathroom and he is going to finger-fuck my ass.



“Like this…” He pushed in with just the tip, sending shock waves across my body. But then he pulled out and simply circled on top of the button. I groaned in disappointment and finally brought my knees underneath me, and I shoved my ass into his hand.



My asshole parted, slipping int two fat fingers into rectum. I cried out at the sudden… ‘fullness’ of my body. In hindsight, it wasn’t all that different a feeling from just having to take a crap. But the visceral feeling of having my boyfriend where he doesn’t belong, with the stunning sensations teasing the backside of my clit, I could not help but love it.



Slowly, he wiggled his two fingers inside of my ass. Slowly at first, just to get my ass use to the feeling of two fingers inside it. The pressure, the rush inside me was over whelming. My clit extended out full length, begging for attention. I caved in and tucked a hand underneath my thrashing body and began to rub the area just around my clit. John continued to diddle my ass, making my moan as my fingers worked my sopping wet pussy into a fiery fury. Water sloshed all around the tub, splashing up to John’s hand. The hand that was knuckles deep in my ass.



I felt the orgasm in my lungs first, as they burned to scream out his name. Then my legs cramped up in anticipation. My butt cheeks, so unused to being violated like this, actually tried to suck his hand in further into my hole. Suddenly, lightning, and a fingernail struck my clit and I was gone. I was lost in a world of screaming and passion as the orgasm swept me up and carried me down the rabbit hole.



I finally came to, still laying in the bath tub, with John’s arms wrapped around me to keep my writhing body from drowning. His strong hands so close to my aching pussy. I weakly rolled over in the tub, the water noticeably lower than it was before. A smile crossed my face as I tucked some wet bangs behind my ear. My breasts hung before me, water trickling around my erect nipples, teasing them harder then before. John stared at them, licking his lips slightly. I reached up and tucked a hand behind his neck, and he fell into my bosom. His eager mouth lapped around my nipple for a tense minute, causing me to groan in frustration. Finally, he clamped onto my right nipple. I gasped and slipped into the tub as my body lost control of itself. John struggled to keep his lips, and TEETH on my nipple without falling into the tub himself. I held him there as he teased my breast with love bites and his savage tongue across my nipple. Finally, he tapped out on my arm, and I, reluctantly let him up for air.



“Still not in the mood?” he asked, wiping his wet hair out of his face. I must have accidentally dragged him underwater there for a second.



“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.” I reached up again and pulled him into a deep, long kiss. Our souls mingled with saliva. His hand reached up and longingly held my wet breast in his hand. His fingertips rolling over the skin, moving the water around on the surface. I moaned into his mouth as pleasure rippled across my body. He pulled away, just far enough as that his face filled my entire vision. He leaned over me, sitting on the edge of the tub, as he reached his hands into the water. His fingers swam so close to my clit, I could feel their movement through it. I peered down, watching his fingers dance in between my open legs, so damn close to my swollen clit. I scooted closer to his fingers, but he moved them. I whimpered loudly. as the waves teased my clit, sending sparks straight into me. A moan build up inside me, but it was caught behind me begging whimpers that my clit was demanding I do.



Finally, his fingers swam up and cupped my trimmed pussy. I started to hump his hand, wanting so badly just to get off, to cum on his hand, to fill this bathroom with the smell of my fucking sex. His two middle fingers popped up and into my vagina, vibrating in short quick burst against my tender g-spot. I curled forward and screamed. My arms propped up behind me as I started to hump the heel of his hand with vigor, smacking my clitty against it. Against all consideration that this was my parents bathroom, I started to yelp rhythmically with each thrust. John laughed and popped a third finger into me, making more the size of a proper cock, mainly his. I whimpered and began to thrash faster into a bathtub, the water cresting over my breast now, adding a new sensation to my impending orgasm.



“Are you going to cum?” John asked in his sexy voice.



“Uh huh…” I managed to squeezed out in between panicked thrust. Squeezed in, because during them I was so close to cumming as it was that I nearly blacked out.



“Why?” He asked, pulling his fingers out a bit.



“You’re fingering me…” I said, pouting expertly as my face tried to convulse into my “O” face.



“And you like it…” He smiled, and began to twiddle my clit with his thumb.



All I could get out was a muttered grunt, as my body tensed up.



“Is Sarah gonna cum in her parents bath tub?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice, edging me on. “Is she gonna cum and scream and shout and orgasm right here right no-”



I cut him off with my blood curdling roar as the orgasm washed over me. I screamed and thrust my quivering body deeper into his hand. I felt his hand reach up and cup the back of my neck. He held me there, one hand in my pulsating pussy, the other holding my head so that I don’t give myself a concussion during my ‘little death’.



I came too, with him leaning over me, holding me tenderly in his arms, keeping me safe from myself. His right hand was away from my poor violated pussy, and instead was holding my side to keep me from sliding into the water.



I blinked and smiled at my hero, my man. I slowly sat up in the water, supporting myself on trembling limbs. My breaths came in shallow gasps as I tried to chock out a word of appreciation to John. But all that manage to come out was a breathed sigh and a glazed look in my eyes. He reached over to kiss me, on the forehead, knowing that I was still struggling to surface from my post orgasmic wake. The water splashed around me, lapping up the sides of my breasts, still floating of my chest. After a few minutes, I was fully back, smiling weakly at John and splashing water onto myself to keep me warm. Although, if you looked at my nipples at the time, you would have thought that I was sitting in ice.



“Did you like that?” John said softly, swirling his hand in the water, that was now contaminated with my love juices. The sickly sweet smell of my cum was amplified by the hot water, chocking the air with the smell of my sex. I breathed in deeply, both relaxed and excited by the scent of myself.



“Y-y-y-y” I stuttered at first, before clearing my throat. “Yeah, I did.” I smiled at him, before looking down at my clit, which was slowly retreating back into my folds. I reached down coyly and stuffed two of my own fingers in, swirling them around a bit. I almost had a second orgasm…or third, orgasm off that, but I held it back and drew my girl-cummed finger out of me. I sucked the tangy sauce off, critiquing it.



“Hmmm…” I said, playfully swirling the girl-cum in my mouth. “Our sex soup is missing something…” I drummed my free hand on my chin as I licked my other one clean. Was I actually thinking about this? “I know.” I proclaimed triumphantly, still wondering how sexy and how dumb this idea was. “John, take off your pants.”



“Excuse me?” He asked, taken aback by such a forward comment…from the cute, wet, and very naked girl he just fingered.



I dunked my head into said soup, and swept my hair out of my face.”Take them off.” I pointed casually to his pants. “We need to add something to this sex soup.”



“Like what?” He said, begrudgingly standing up.



“It has my cum in it, but that’s just masturbation soup. In order to make it sex soup, we need your cum in here as well.” I said as innocently as if we were actually cooking something. “Don’t you wanna cum?” I drew a line on my face, past the side of my mouth and let it drip down my cleavage.



John’s eyes grew about ten inches wide as he finally got a hold of what I was suggesting.



“Come on, love.” I got up and kneel in the water. I was just about level with his crotch, which was looking uncomfortably tight. “I need something from you…”

CC’s place was a lot like her; small, compact, with a lot of personality crammed into it.



Cynthia Chen’s stuffed animals vied for space with the latest video equipment, her suped up laptop plastered with stickers from every concert she had ever been too. Her furniture was sparse, preferring to sit on the floor as she edited her columns for the weeklies and magazines she freelanced for. An entire wall was taken up by music, CDs stacked in order of band, genre or whatever other system she randomly felt like organizing it in.



One time she ordered them in geographic order, how close each band was based to her. Besides the room we were sitting in, there was only a kitchen and a bathroom. Her place was filled with the spicy scent of chicken curry that she had made for us “from scratch”. Meaning she found a ready made pack she boiled all by herself she had called from the kitchen.



Right now her feet were wiggling in my lap as I tickled her soles. She laughed hysterically, trying to stop long enough to rise up to a sitting position and no doubt hit me but I wasn’t giving her a chance. Her black eyes danced between amusement and the promise of swift and painful revenge.



“Stop…please!” she gasped, trying to free her ankles from my one hand. “I’m going to piss myself! Stop!”



I laughed evilly and went on. Like her apartment, her ankles were small and fit in on of my hands easily. I could have picked her up and swung her by her feet if I wanted to.



“Not until you say it!” I said running my nails down the soles of her feet making her go insane.



“Ok! Ok!” she conceded, tears streaming from her almond eyes.



Her Asian features smoothed out as I stopped tickling for the moment. Her ankles were hot and sweaty under my hand. Her bare legs no longer trembling as the last of the laughs left her, relaxing all the way up to her jean shorts. Her small breasts were still rising and falling rapidly on her chest, pressing their outline against her tee-shirt. Embarrassingly my cock filled with blood when I saw her nipples straining against the fabric.



When I shifted her feet away from my lap she must have thought I was going to start again because she nearly shrieked, saying “Alright, I’ve thought about it!”



“A lot…?” I asked leadingly.



“Not a lot. But something…you know, wondering what it would be like,” she admitted a slight redness spreading across her skin.



I gave a perverse grin, saying “why don’t you do something about it?”



She snorted. “oh yeah, sure! I’ll just crawl under her desk during class and eat her out. Think she’ll get the point then?”



“She” was a classmate ours at out college. Miranda was one of those girls you took one look at wanted to drag into a dark corner somewhere. CC and I both had a mini crush on her.



“Well, it’s a little subtle,” I mused. “But it might work.”



We traded laughs about the absurdity of it for awhile before she said “you’re pretty good at that.”



It was only when she spoke that I realized I was rubbing my thumbs along her feet, massaging the arches and pressing into the soles gently. The pale skin of her feet slipped by under my fingers, soft and smooth.



I glanced at her shins, knees and thighs, drawling in a corny accent “I do what I can to please the ladies.”



She giggled, relaxing under my hands. I quickly glanced at her. Her eyes had closed and her breathing deepened. Of course I found CC very attractive and, of course part two, had occasionally had less then pure thoughts about her but never actually tried anything with her and I was warring with myself now about whether I should.



CC and I had always skated the edge of a true relationship. Maybe both of us just didn’t want to ruin a perfect friendship with sex. So seeming in a way to make up for not actually having it, we talked about it constantly. What we’ve done, what we want to do, who we want to do and telling each other every detail if any new sexual adventures do happen to either of us. But now, late at night at her house, close on a couch, some wall between us seemed to be fizzling and evaporating, dying a slow quiet and maybe even thankful death.



My hands worked without thought, moving along the planes of her leg, from foot to knee and back, working up to the firm milky thigh. Her breathing had deepened even more and redness was flushing her face. I was as hard as steel by this time.



‘Don’t even think,’ I told myself, letting my hands move wherever they wanted. They travelled over her skin past her knees again, to her thigh, rubbing my fingers into the slack muscles there. The very tips skimmed along the inside, teasing the sensitive surface there. CC’s breath caught for a moment, her pink lips falling open to let her breath slip out. Her left hand lifted from her side and moved upwards but stopped, her eyes opening like she had just caught herself doing something she knew she shouldn’t.



When she opened her eyes they fell on the clock on the wall and she did a double take.



“Do you know its 3am?” she asked me, bewildered.



I jerked my head up and confirmed what she said. It was indeed 3am and my last train home was long gone.



“Where they hell did the time go?” I asked stunned. It seemed like we had just been eating dinner at eight ten minutes ago.



She gave a slightly nervous laugh and I guess that’s the point we both realized I would have to spend the night. She knew very well that I didn’t have money for a cab, all my cash going into school and she didn’t have a car to drive me home.



All her ready cash went into dinner, besides.



She turned, giving me a warm smile. “I guess the couch is your friend tonight.”



“You’re not going to invite me in with you tonight?” I teased putting emphasis on the “you”.



A beat dropped before she answered, trying to match my tone. “Not tonight.”



Twenty minutes later I found myself staring at the bottom of CC’s bed, willing myself to have x-ray vision. Because of the cramped space she had bought a loft bed that was raised five feet in the air. The couch I was pretending to sleep on was right underneath it. Her scent was all around me, permeated into the cushions and the pillow she had given me.



Lights from passing cars moved across the slats on the bottom of her bed, where less then a foot above she was lying.



CC had been rustling in her sheets as if she couldn’t sleep. She must either have thought I didn’t have that problem or did care because next her breath started drifting to me in the dark, deep and ragged. Straining my ears I caught the sound of moving sheets, this time more rhythmic, like an arm moving back and forth under them.



I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing CC masturbating above me.



What the hell should I do? Sure porns made it look like if you came across a girl playing with herself you were guaranteed sex. But life had taught me life isn’t always like Debbie does Dallas!



I reached down under my own covers and gripped myself tight, shuddering at the pleasure. I was stiff beyond belief, stroking my fingers along the rigid shaft before tightening my grip again, trying to bend the unbendable piece of flesh this way and this, one jolt so sharp and good I let a gasp slip my lips. Immediately the sounds above me stopped and so did I.



My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at the slats above me, frozen and barely breathing. I didn’t dare move. My hand was still around my cock, while my mind was a terrified blank. Before long mountains of ‘whats’ started whizzing through me.



What if I had been wrong and she hadn’t been masturbating? What if she thought I was? What if she thought I was a pervert and kicked me out? What if she told everyone? What would be the fastest way out the door without her detecting me in anyway?



Then the craziest thought occurred to me. This must be how chronic gamblers felt. Right when they had lost nearly everything and they knew they should just leave with what they have, they bet everything on one last roll. It was a rush, scary but exhilarating!



Slowly, very slowly, I started to stroke myself again, letting the sheet lying on my shift back and forth with the movement of my arm. Going this slow it could have been anything, I could have been scratching my nuts except that I kept on scratching.



The pleasure mixed with the fear in an intoxicating cocktail, I let a breath escape. It seemed very loud in the dead quiet room, echoing before settling into nothing. Nerves in my cock were spiking like nothing I had ever felt. This was really stupid! I continued to stroke, gaining speed, my fist running up and down the length of my dick, rubbing the thumb over the throbbing head. My skin was so hot and tight it felt like it wanted to burst.



Somewhere in all this sensation I noticed that mine was not the only breath running fast in the room. I could hear the rustle of sheets and louder gasps of breath from above me. I moaned out loud and it was echoed back to me from above, through the slats winking in car lights.



We continued this way for awhile, she above, me below. My hand as flying along the length me, my other hand resting on my stomach, fluttering my fingers along the sensitized skin. The deepening moans and gasps above me fueled me until I was about to burst in my hand. That’s when I got my second crazy idea.



‘Crazy is working for me so far,’ I thought as I moved the sheets off me and quietly stood up.



CC’s bed was about five feet in the air; she was only about five feet so it didn’t bother her much. I was closer to six. My height let me see right into her bed from where I stood.



She had thrown off her covers at some point. Her body writhed on the sheets, twisting and turning in pleasurable agony. One hand was moving frantically in her pajama shorts, knuckles and fingers bunching under the fabric. The other was under her tee shirt, moving from one breast to the other, presumably pinching one responsive nipple and then the other. She hadn’t noticed me watching her yet. One of my hands found my erection again.



Mesmerized I watched the lights filter through the window and panel across her flat stomach, heaving up and down. Her back arch sharply, pushing her breasts in the air. She pushed her shirt back showing me the small breasts and hard pointed nipples that she pinched mercilessly. I wanted to wrap my lips around those dark tips, smell her heady scent of arousal up close, feel her smooth soft naked skin. She moaned loudly, almost screaming as her body shuddered and jerked before falling quietly back into the bed.



Her head lolled towards me when she relaxed back down. Her eyes fluttered open, seeing me standing there watching her for the first time. Like a deer caught in the headlights she watched me, frozen in place exactly as I had been only a little while ago. Like me, her hands were still on her; one in her pants and one paralyzed on a breast, as if she feared if she moved even a little I would only then know what she had been doing.



‘Don’t even think,’ I told myself again. I slowly raised my free hand from my side. The air felt as thick as molasses when my hand moved deliberately through it and over the crest of the bed. It hovered over CC’s stomach for a moment as we watched each other closely. No matter what had already happened between us tonight I think we both knew that as soon as I laid my had on her, everything changed, this could no longer just be called a weird mistake that will look much more innocent and laughable in the daylight. To touch her wasn’t just a line; it was a cliff, with no way back up. Only a freefall down into the unknown.



My palm descended onto her stomach and I felt her muscles shudder under it, like a current was passing from me to her. Her skin was very warm, a soft plane of skin I leisurely ran my hand across from the band of her shorts to just under her breasts. Her hand that was farthest from me, the one on her breast, moved down to meet mine when it reached just under her sternum again. She slipped it over mine and moved with it when I started trailing down her body. Her right hand slid from her crotch when our hands approached. We kept on going, hitting the edge of her bottoms before slipping under the elastic band.



The faintest hint of hair purred against my fingers before they slipped into the dark wetness between her legs. Her juices had already covered everything from her self pleasure so my fingers slicked easily over CC’s swollen lips, eliciting more gasps and moans from her. When she rolled her hips towards my hand my middle finger slid into her burning cleft, brushing over her still throbbing clit. Her hand, still over mine, guided my fingers all around her pussy, squeezing the puffy flesh in my palm before I slipped first one then two fingers into her.



I stroked myself as I fingered her slowly using my thumb to trip back and forth over her hard little button. She brought both her hand up to her breasts, giving her nipples a hard pinch before cupping the mounds, like she was offering them to the ceiling. Keeping my hand between her legs I partially climbed the ladder up until I was leaning over her, gazing down at her half naked body. Her scent wafted up to me sweet and musky in the air. Her eyes were half lidded and looking at me in needy lust. She gave her breasts one last squeeze before she reached up and pulled my head down to her dusky tips, brushing one against my lips.



I immediately latched on, sucking hard before flicking my tongue over the tumescent tip. Laving my tongue around the areola my other hand found her unattended nipple, pinching and rolling it between my fingers. She panted and cried out when I started nibbling on the hard tip in my mouth, holding my head tight to her body while she contorted and rocked in enjoyment under my hands and lips. I switched from nipple to nipple until they were rock hard, her areolas a dark red.



I trailed my mouth down CC’s body, kissing, licking and sucking her delicious skin, running my tongue over the bones of her ribs and muscles of her stomach. I shoved her shorts down her legs and she quickly kicked them off before spreading her legs for my hungry gaze. Everything was coming to me in waves of light and dark. The headlights of passing cars were the only light in the dark room. I saw her pussy for the first time in one of those strobing flashes; pink lips pouting, swollen and weeping with juice. From my position of standing on the ladder I had to turn my head downwards, taking her pussy into my mouth upside down.



Her thighs closed around my head tightly as I ate her. Her juices flowed freely and I followed them down her pussy and into the cleft of her ass, burrowing deep in to not let a drop escape. Trialing my tongue back up, I sucked her lips into my mouth.



Her hips were bucking against my sucking mouth when I felt a cool hand wrap around my cock, stroking the skin over the shaft, squeezing off at the head, making me jump and moan into CC’s pussy. The vibrations made her squeeze harder for a moment before she started tugging me up onto the bed by my cock.



After a little awkward maneuvering I found myself on my knees on top of her, head to foot, mouth to crotch. CC’s delicate hands on my hips pulled them downward until the head of my cock was brushing her lips. The tip of her tongue lapped and twisted around the head before sucking it inside her mouth. Moans vibrated up from her throat whenever she moaned, tingling down the length of my shaft. It was hard controlling myself, to just not slide the whole thing down her throat. Her hands kept a firm grip on my hips though, holding them in place so she could bob her head up and down, sucking gently on my whole distance from the head until her nose brushed my balls.



I attacked her pussy with a new hunger, the passion roaring boiling through me. We worked each other, writhing one atop of the other, working together until her thighs clamped harder against the sides of my head, trapping me as she came and gushed against my mouth, her own orgasm making my own excitement reach that crest and boil over into her gulping mouth.



When I drew myself away from her still licking tongue I was amazed to see I was still hard…that had never happened before…and I wasn’t going to waste it!



I managed to turn myself around until I was settled between CC’s thigh, the hypersensitive head of my cock brushing along the inside of her thigh, sliding its way upwards.



“Wait…” she breathed into the dark. “…do you have a condom?”



‘Fuck!’ I thought to myself. “No I don’t.” I said aloud, stopping immediately, knowing she was right.



“That’s ok,” she said leaning into my ear. “I just want you inside me.”



God, what the hell was I going to do? I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to pull out of her tight, hot, juicing pussy when it came time to…



As if she read the war on my face she pushed me gently off until I was kneeling between her legs, my cock a rigid bar of flesh jutting from my hips. CC turned over onto her own knees and reached back with both hands, spreading her cheeks. Lights flashed through the window again, her tightly closed pink hole exposed to me.



CC had always told me she wanted to try anal sex one day and even practiced with her vibrator so she would be ready when the time came.



I guess now she was ready.



And I was beyond ready. I wanted this more then air if I was drowning.



I reached down to her pussy and slipped two fingers inside, eliciting a moan and her pushing back onto them. I dragged out my slicked fingers and brought them to her tightly closed ass, slipping first one in slowly, stroking against her insides before dipping back down for more. I repeated this over until she was ready for me to slip a second finger into her ass, a deep groan coming from her lips.



“Yeah,” she breathed harshly. “Go deeper, I can take it.”



I did as she asked and started slipping my two fingers faster and harder into her tight hole, stretching the muscle as I went. CC was now moaning wildly, asking me to fuck her ass harder. Up until now we had both been pretty quiet, not wanting to break the spell but now that seemed long past us.



I added a third and went harder, spreading my fingers slowly. I wanted her ready when I went in.



“Fuck!” she called. “Do it now! I want to feel you fucking my ass!”



“You want it, you got it,” I said, feeling ridiculous saying such words but not being able to help myself. I scooted forward and pressed the head of my cock against her ass, slowly slipping in. The tightness was incredible. I had never felt anything like it before, a hot fist of silk wrapped around my cock, opening up slowly as I entered.



“Oh god,” she cried out. One of her hands disappeared between her legs, rubbing frantic circles around her clit. Her ass contracted and released around me.



“Goddamn, you feel so good,” I moaned started to drag my cock in and out of her grasping ass, going deeper and harder with every stroke.



“Fuck me!” she whimpered, pushing her ass back into my dick with every thrust.



The air was filled with the scent of our sweat and musk, the echo of my hips slapping against the reddening cheeks of her ass filling the room. A deep pressure and tingle in my crotch told me that I was going lose it in a moment.



I slid in hard and ground into her, panting in her ear, “I’m going to cum inside you.”



I could feel her fingers pick up speed under us. “Yeah, do it. Cum in me.” She moaned out.



Her body started to stutter and lose rhythm, her orgasm coming onto her hard. I wasn’t far behind when she cried out, jamming back against me, burying my spasming cock as deep into her as possible. The orgasm was beyond anything I had ever felt, wiping out all thought until all there was nothing in the world but me cumming inside of CC’s ass. I vaguely felt a wetness spreading on my stomach as we slowed…

He realized he was addicted to her, but was unable to do anything about it. Whenever he saw the little green light indicating she was online, his heart started pounding pumping blood into all the wrong places. They would text often, and became intimate friends.



The conversation often turned erotic, and when it did he would describe what he wanted to do to her body in great detail, and she would describe her response. Their texting would get so steamy that their hands would inevitably find very sensitive and naughty spots to massage.



She would often lay on her bed, totally naked, with her laptop next to her and her vibator at the ready. As he described gently sliding his finger between her wet pussy lips, she would take her own finger and mimic his descriptions. And when he described thrusting his rigid cock deep into her, she would take the humming vibrator, and slide it in and out slowly to his texts. Her orgasms became so strong that she started each session with a towel under her to minimize the cleanup.



He would stroke his cock thinking of their joint fantasy. Placing his thumb on the top of his shaft, and three fingers under, he would expertly stroke to her texts, sliding his fingers along it, dragging the skin over the head and back again. So much precum would emerge from the slit that lubricant was rarely necessary.



And when she texted, “Cummingggg” he could just envision her body bucking wildly with the vibrator deep inside, her moans escalating to cries of pleasure, and the fountain of juices when she pulled it out. The vision always made his cock erupt through his fingers sending spurts of white cum arcing in the air. Yes, he was definitely addicted.



It was understandable then that he found himself one day texting her while driving – quite inexcusable, but understandable. They were role playing the domme mistress who had him bound, naked and helpless. She was dressed in only leather boots and teased his cock hard with her leather riding crop. When she donned an 8 inch strapon and prepared to take him forcefully against his will, he could not resist unzipping his jeans and taking his hard cock out even while driving.



He looked about to see if anyone could see, but it was a secluded rural road and he figured he was ok. And besides it added to the excitement. He slowly stroked his cock as she continued her fantasy.



He could tell she was really into it by the increasing number of typos. She had him on all fours, kneeling behind him, her strapon working its way into his ass! As she slowly fucked him silly, she reached around and stroked his cock wanting to feel him cum. It drove her completely wild with lust as she had orgasm on orgasm thinking of their scene.



He was so close to cumming that he never saw the police car trailing him for the past 2 miles until the blue lights went on.



Pulling over, he scrambled to stuff his fully erect cock back into his jeans when he saw the door of the police cruiser open and black boot step onto the pavement. He looked down at the painful bulge between his legs and thought it was rather obvious so he rested his baseball cap in his lap in an attempt to hide his embarrassing situation.



He was startled by the troopers black nightstick tapping on the driver side window and when he quickly looked over his shoulder he was surprised to see a beautiful female trooper standing over him with a bemused smile on her lips.



She was tall with dark hair in a bun under her smoky the bear hat, and dark eyes and full lips that needed no makeup to highlight her natural albeit austere beauty. He blushed as he realized that he was staring at her rather buxom breasts and protruding nipples under her very real badge. This was not helping with his erection.



He realized that she was asking him a question as she impatiently put her hands on her shapely hips and parted her legs in a challenge. “License and registration sir!”



He fumbled in the glove box for his registration and then lifted his hips to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket, causing his hat to fall to the floor. As he handed her his information, she was clearly aware that he was concealing something in his pants.



She quickly upholstered her firearm “Keep your hands where I can see them! Step out of the car now! Move!”



He stutters, “What? I.. Ah.. What?”



“Out of the car now! Hands on the hood. Move!” She held her gun at the ready. He wonders if she would actually use it. He steps from the car and turns his back to her as she places a hand on his back and forces him hard against the hood.



Holstering her gun she takes his right hand and twists it behind him hard and quickly cuffs it, then the left. “Sir, You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, but I recommend you tell me what you have fucking hidden in your pants!”



He mutters, “Um what? Nothing! Just me.”



She yells, “Don’t fuck with me! Spread your legs now! ” She thrusts her thigh between his, forcing his legs apart and frisks him starting at the bottom of his legs and moving upward quickly.



No matter how much he willed his erection down, her forcefulness seemed to be making it worse. His cock was straining to fuck something, tenting the front of his jeans out. It did look like he was concealing something now that he thought about it.



She squeezed his ass roughly with one hand and reached around with the other feeling his bulge, pressing her fingers around it searching. His cock jumped at her touch.



Just then his phone tweeted a text from his text lover espousing how wonderful her orgasm was. Hoping the trooper didn’t hear it he closed his eyes and waited. She paused, hand still cupping his cock through his jeans, and listened.



Then it tweeted again and she stood up abruptly, opened the door and retrieved the phone.



Standing with it in her hands, she read the steamy dialog, scrolling back through the sordid details, looking from the phone to his bulge and back.



Then with a hint of a smile, she says, “Sir, you do realize that it is illegal to text and drive in this state? You’re liable to hurt yourself especially doing what I think you were doing. I’m afraid I’m going to have to bring you in.”



“Please no,… my wife,… how will I explain? Ill do anything!” He pleaded.



“Anything?” She asked with a grin. He nodded as best he could bent over the hood of his car, hands cuffed behind his back. “Well I better make sure you aren’t concealing anything”, she almost laughed.



She stepped behind him again, thigh thrust between his, but this time for her pleasure. She squeezed his ass slowly and grinded her front against his leg before reaching around to cup his everlasting bulge. She leaned down rubbing her breasts and hardening nipples against his back. Taken aback, he wondered at the change in attitude and realized that the steamy text must have had an effect. It was pure lust and it was driving him crazy.



“I think you have something hidden in here sir” she rasped at his ear as her fingers unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and stretched back his boxers revealing his huge hardon. “Oooh” she moaned quietly looking over his shoulder at his firm cock. It was so stiff with the skin stretched tight over the six inches of his shaft, the engorged head clearly covered in precum.



“Yes, you’ve been definitely hiding this.” She reached down and wrapped her fingers around the shaft as he moaned. Then she slowly slid her fingers up and down the shaft enjoying the feeling and sound the wetness made as they slid over the head. He felt strangely vulnerable with his hands cuffed behind, and jeans at his knees as this beautiful woman stroking his cock. She could do anything she wanted regardless of what he said. The thought was both scary and exciting.



“What else are you hiding” she asked sternly. “I think a full body search is in order. Bend over!” She forced him face down against the hood again before kicking his legs even wider apart. Then she touched her precum covered finger to his anus and slowly pushed it into him without hesitation well past her first knuckle. She wiggled and twisted it inside him and then slid it out and back, finger fucking his ass.



He didn’t think he was into this sort of thing, but with the realization that he had no say, and that she was clearly turned on by having him under her control, he found that he was really excited, so



much so, that he felt tingling in his balls, the familiar precursor to a huge orgasm.



“Hmm, I can’t tell, I better check deeper” she laughed and pushed into him, while at the same time cupping his balls with the other hand. She then released them and started stroking his cock in unison with her thrusting finger. He started to moan and grunt and clench his pelvic muscles feeling his balls rise in preparation for ejaculation.



“You better not cum! She scolded him, but at the same time she increased her tempo and smiled sadistically. He squeezed hard trying not to cum, but it was no use. She felt his spasm first with her finger as his ass clamped tight around it. Then she felt his cock jump in her fingers as it spurted hot white globs of cum through her fingers and onto the side of the cruiser.



She watched with a smile, milking his cock slowly as his whole body uncoiled. “Well now you’ve done it! Look at the mess you’ve made!” They both watched it slowly run down the side of her car before dripping onto the pavement.



She wiped it of the car with her hand and then wiped her hands on his bare ass. Then with an open hand, she slapped his ass so hard that it left a red handprint clearly visible on his check. “You better not be enjoying this” she snarled as she slapped him again. If she only knew how much he was enjoying it, he would be in even more trouble.



Abruptly she pulled his shoes off, and then lifted each leg in turn out of his trousers and boxers. She scooped up his clothes and threw them into his car. “Come with me” she commanded. Grabbing the chain of his cuffs as she led him to the back seat of the cruiser and stuffed him in before slamming the door.



His mind raced as she strode around the front of the cruiser and jumped in behind the wheel. Where are you taking me?” he asked with a worried tone.



She just looked up at him in her rear view and continued driving. Then as an afterthought she said, “Where ever I want”. There was no hesitation or question; it was a statement of fact.



After a mile or so, the cruiser slowed and pulled off onto an old overgrown dirt road leading to a secluded clearing overlooking a pond. Turning off the engine, she got out and opened the trunk, retrieving an old blanket, tube of KY and an ominous looking nightstick that reminded him of a dildo. She spread the blanket in the grass, before opening his door and commanding “Out!”



Naked from the waist down, covered in cum, he was surprised that his cock was so hard still. He tried to get out, but it was difficult with his hands cuffed behind his back. She reached in and pulled him out forcefully and pushed him toward the blanket. “‘Kneel.” He complied meekly.



She stood in front of him and slowly unbuttoned her uniform revealing her beautiful breasts, unrestrained by any bra. She left her shirt on, but open so that he could see her aroused pink nipples, shaped like Hershey kisses to be sampled by his tongue.



He licked his lips watching her tits sway as she bent over to pull off her boots. Then she stood before him and slowly unzipped her pants revealing black lace panties. She grasped her pants and panties with one hand and pulled both down slowly revealing a landing strip of short brown curls just above the most wonderfully beautiful pussy. Her outer lips were full and pouty, and where they met you could see the pink tip of her clit protruding.



She stood with legs parted, only inches from his face, as he kneeled before her. He noticed now that there was a trail of wetness running down both of her inner thighs and when he inhaled deeply, her scent of excitement was clearly evident.



She reached out and held his neck firm, pulling his face against her pussy, “Eat me”. He kissed both of her pussy lips before sticking his tongue out and licking along one outer lip and then the other. He nibbled her inner thigh before plunging his tongue between her lips and tasting her abundant juices. He slowly licked upward until his tongue slid over her clit and then flicked quickly at it.



She closed her eyes and moaned while arching her back slightly, pressing her pelvis into his face while pulling his head even closer. She was grinding herself against his tongue, using him as a sex toy and thoroughly enjoying herself.



He closed his lips around her clit drawing it into his mouth and flicking it gently with his tongue. This seemed to cause her legs to quiver and her to release an animal groan from deep within. She pushed hard against his face, so hard in fact that he fell over onto his back. This did not seem to phase her at all as she simply kneeled over his face, lowered her dripping pussy to his tongue, and continued to grind herself against him moving her hips faster and faster.



All he could do was to stick his tongue out as far as he could, as she pushed down forcing it into the opening of her pussy. She lifted and lowered and moved side to side in ever more frantic motions, until she paused holding her breath, trembling on the edge of orgasm.



Then she thrust herself down hard on his face, feeling is tongue almost inside, and then let out a deep breath followed by a cry as her body shook uncontrollably as it was racked by spasms of pleasure. This was accompanied by a gush of liquid, forced from her pussy, drenching his face and neck.



When the waves of pleasure subsided, she lifted herself from his face and in a moment of pity decided to uncuff one of his wrists, but leaving the other firmly attached. She looked at him lying there, cum covered cock firmly pointing straight up, dripping precum yet again, and decided that it was time for relief.



Sitting between his legs facing him, with her legs resting on his thighs, she reached over for her nightstick and slowly applied KY to its bottom 4 inches as he watched worriedly. She smiled at him mischievously and said, “It’s time for your punishment now”.



She gently lifted his balls exposing his puckered ass and watched his cock jump as she worked a lubricated finger into him against his will. He squeezed hard trying to force it out, but that only made his cock jump and encouraged her to push deeper. He tried to relax, realizing that this was the second time that this beautiful dominant was violating his ass within the space of an hour.



Resigned to his fate, he stopped resisting while she withdrew her finger and quickly replaced it with the lubricated end of the nightstick. Surprisingly it slid in relatively easy and didn’t hurt. He actually was enjoying the sensation of fullness as she pushed it deeper followed by the relief as she pulled it outward. His cock jumped again trailing a long drip of precum from the slit. “Are you sure you’re not bisexual?” She laughed at her own joke.



It was quite a sight seeing the nightstick emerging from his ass, with his balls and erect cock just above it. She applied lube to his cock and slowly worked it along his shaft with her fingers closed in a fist around him. At this point he was powerless to do anything but enjoy.



She paused then and he watched her lift her hips and positioned the tip of the other end of the nightstick between her pussy lips, before pushing it slowly into herself until the handle rested against her clit. Then she rested her left hand on the handle holding it against herself and lifted her hips thrusting the makeshift double ended dildo deep into his ass.



After pushing into him as far as it would go, she held the handle against her body so that when she pulled her hips backward, the nightstick withdrew from him with her hips. In this way she thrust in and out of him like the dominant, beautiful, animal that she was.



As she fucked him, she grabbed his cock with her free hand and stroked it. It stood up straight between her fist on each down stroke, only to have the head covered entirely on each upstroke. It must have been quite a strange sensation for him to be both fucked and jerked at the same time.



Then on a thrust more violent than the others, the handle slipped from her wet fingers and the nightstick remained deep in his ass, popping out of her pussy.



At this point she was rather worked up and needed to cum with a hard cock stuffed deep in her pussy. He watched her kneel over him and guide the mushroom head of his cock into her dripping pussy. In her frenzy she didn’t even bother to remove the nightstick from his ass before lowering her body, impaling herself on his shaft. She lifted after each plunge, her body cork screwing up before crashing down, squishing her clit against him again and again.



She was getting rather worked up riding him like that. Beads of perspiration ran down her body, between her swaying breasts and down her back between the cheeks of her ass.



She fucked him like an animal in the wild, taking what she wanted, unconcerned with his pleasure. It was total lust and he loved it.



Then she remembered the nightstick, and quickly lifted off of his cock, turned to face his feet, and lowered herself, again engulfing his cock in her pussy before he could react. She resumed her erotic dance on his cock as he watched her pussy between the cheeks of her firm ass. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her body down as he lifted into her. He was really starting to enjoy this. If he hadn’t already cum her surely would be spurting his cum deep inside her body by now. As it was, he felt the beginning ting lings of an orgasm in his balls.



Then she reached down between her legs and forced the nightstick deeper into his ass. This had the effect of making him harder still, but also the pressure on his prostrate kept him from cumming.



At this point she slid all the way down his shaft and moved her hips in erotic circles enjoying the sensation of him inside her as she continued to abuse his ass with her nightstick. He didn’t mind the humiliation. In fact he was kind of enjoying it, especially how excited it was making her.



He could tell she was very close to orgasm, not by her loud grunts and groans, but by how her pussy spasmed and grasped at his cock. Then she arched her back and cried out almost as if in warning before her body convulsed and jerked totally out of control. She tried to stay on him, but in her pleasure she fell forward onto the blanket, and her pussy lifted off his cock, another fountain of her pleasure gushed from all over his cock, balls and pelvis.



She fell forward with a satiated smile on her face, practically unconscious. It was quite the sight with her ass in the air, thighs spread wide, juices dripping from her pussy, legs still trembling in aftershocks.



Looking at his hard cock, her wrist behind her back cuffed to his, he had a wicked thought. It’s time to take control. If she can do it then so can I.



He sat up and pulled the nightstick from his ass and then reached for the lube applying it first to his cock and then to her anus. She moaned softly still oblivious to the world. Then he knelt and touched the greased head of his cock to her ass. She stirred realizing a second too late what was in store.



In her relaxed state he pushed the head in easily as she growled in surprise. Then pushing steadily, he watched his shaft disappear into her beautiful ass. She gasped and struggled, but it felt so warm and wonderful squeezing his cock from all sides, he was not about to reconsider. Then to his surprise, with his cock fully in her he felt her relax and reach between her legs and caress his balls. He took this as approval and slowly slide his cock outward and back, fucking her tenderly. She started squeezed him on the out stroke only to relax giving him free access on the in stroke. In this manner she was massaging his cock, grabbing and releasing it as he fucked her.

As I stated in “Ideal Day One” there are many “ideal” days when one thinks about the various ways one can have sex with his or her partner. Following along on that theme, I give you a version of what might be “Ideal” if I was allowed to pleasure my wife as I wanted, any time I wanted.



I had been anticipating today for over a month, ever since we had discussed the possibility and she had agreed to go along with it for one day. Today is the day I get to play with her any way I want, at any time, and she has to agree. There is to be no complaining, no telling me no, she is to simply do as I ask sexual wise, according to the guidelines we had agreed upon.



I could use any of the toys we own (or might get between the time we talked and the day comes around), any way they are designed to be used, I can have her wear what I desire, but it cannot be outside the house if it is not something she would normally not wear in public. An example is that she would not wear a mini skirt or a bikini, etc. since she would not wear those any other time.



Since I’m always horny, starting out that way in the morning was nothing new, being able to do something about it was, while not necessarily out of the realm of being done, it was not the norm. Too many possibilities were going through my head, but I decided to start out slow, or as slow as my horny state would allow, and just finger her to orgasm while she was on her knees on the bed, straddling my chest and facing my feet. That way I get to see her pussy up close to watch her lips open up and the juices start flowing. Nothing makes me harder than seeing her clit all hard and slick while I’m playing with her.



It only took a few minutes before I had her climaxing and sliding down to lay on my legs while recovering from her orgasm. While she was there with her ass facing me I reach back for the lube and find the smallest butt plug we own to hand to her. While I could put it in, I would rather watch her do so, and it’s my day.



Although she does not normally allow me to use a butt plug on her, she only hesitates a bit, knowing she agreed to this, and that I won’t force her if she does not want to do so. I get to watch as the slender plug slowly slips into place with only the little curved part to keep it from going too deep, showing. Once in place I have her get up and put on a pair of thong panties I had her purchase for just this occasion. Without the thong to hold it in place the plug will eventually slip out and we don’t want that. She has never worn a thong before (I like them more than regular underwear) so the combination of the thong and the butt plug should keep her thinking about sex until I am ready for whatever I decide to do next.



The first thing is to have breakfast. Deciding on French toast I mix up the batter and start cooking while she digs out the butter, jam and other things we will need to accompany the meal. This means she has to bend over as well as reach high on the shelves to reach things. One way I get to see her ass in the thong, while her breasts sway nicely and the other I get to see her breast pull up and swing as she reaches up.



Because I have used a but plug for many years I know that she will not like to have it in for very long this first time. After breakfast we return to the bedroom for more sex. Leaning her over the bed I have her leave the thong on and pull it aside to play with her clit and pussy so that it will continue to hold the plug in place. When I have her hot enough she is humping against my fingers and raising her ass in the air, I remove the thong underwear and move into position behind her, reaching down to spread her pussy lips wide so my cock will slide in easily. While I get used to the feeling of her pussy around my cock I have her reach under herself to play with her clit. Soon she is humping against me as she gets more and more excited. Any movement of my cock and I can feel the butt plug in her ass, making it harder than normal for me to hold off my own climax. What is not expected is that when I am pushing my deepest in to her pussy, I also push the plug deeper into her ass, which makes her moan with each thrust. Soon the combination of her work on her clit, the feeling of the butt plug in her ass, and my cock ramming deep into her, causes us both to climax.



Climbing onto the bed on our sides, I leave my cock in her pussy until it is so soft that it falls out on its own. My cock is followed shortly by the plug as she relaxes. While we are cleaning ourselves and the butt plug, our dogs start bugging us, they are long over due for their morning walk.



The walk will give me time to recover anyway, so I put on a pair of thong underwear and my sweat pants while she dresses in a skirt with button front blouse but I have her go without a bra or underwear. There is a big empty lot right behind the house and we seldom if ever meet anyone else out there even though we live in town.



After we return I have her stand and face me, holding her skirt up out of the way, while I play with her pussy again until she cums. Moving so she is kneeling in the recliner I fuck her from behind while playing with her breasts and nipples. This time I am able to control the pace a bit more and move through several different tempos. First I move slowly so I can feel my cock being gripped by her pussy as I reach full depth. When that starts feeling too good, I change so when my cock is about half way in; I then thrust hard, making her breasts swing while my balls hit her pussy from behind. Building speed I am soon fucking her hard while pulling back on her hips to keep us in rhythm. Soon this is too much and I shoot into her pussy while she pushes back against me, making sure I’m as deep as possible.



Lunch is fixed with me wearing only my tee shirt while she is wearing her skirt, with her blouse open so I can enjoy the view of her wonderful breasts. Unable to resist the temptation I take one of the ice cubes I’m getting for my tea and rub it on her nipples, making them hard. Moving lower I then rub the ice on her pussy, something we have done before and found fun. Because we just had sex there is no way I have recovered enough to put both the ice cube and my cock in her pussy, something we have not tried for a long time.



Needing time to recover, we use the afternoon to go for a drive in the mountains. Once underway I have her pull her skirt up to show me her pussy. After turning onto a forest road I have her unbutton her blouse and take off her bra (she insisted on that until we got off the highway) so I can watch her breasts bounce in time to the rough road.



Because so far the only thing we have done that we would not normally do was the butt plug I have her reach into the console where I have stored the new toy I purchased just for this drive. I have her put in the dildo while we are driving so she will be ready when we find a secluded place to stop. What I didn’t tell her is that the dildo is a wireless remote control model. Once it is in place I wait a few minutes before pushing the button, this makes her jump and sigh at the same time. Of the several different variations of speed and rhythm I find the one that makes her squirm the most and leave it on until I can tell she is about to climax before shutting it off. A few more miles down the road, even with the bumps that make the dildo move in her pussy, she has calmed down again and we find a nice spot to pull into the trees where we won’t be seen by anyone that might drive past our location.



As the pickup dies, I push the button again and reach over to play with her nipples while the dildo does its magic in her pussy. Getting out and walking around the pickup, I open her door and place her feet on the sides of the door so she her pussy is fully exposed to me and Mother Nature. Changing the speed control to a slower rate I start fucking her pussy with the dildo and playing with her clit until she is humping and matching me thrust for thrust. To prolong the session I shut off the vibration and have her hand me the small butt plug and her thong again. With both the butt plug and dildo safely in place, I put the larger butt plug in my own ass, safely held in place by my thong, increasing my own sensations.



Pulling aside her thong I turn the dildo on to its max setting before telling her to fuck her cunt with it while I watch. Soon she is humping on the seat, playing with her clit before holding her pussy lips open so I can watch her squirt when she climaxes. As she calms down I turn off the vibrations, allowing her to relax but insist she continue to slowly push the dildo in and out of her cunt.



Once she has calmed down some, I pull the dildo out of her pussy and fill it with my rock hard cock in one quick move. Because she is so wet and I’m so horny from watching her fuck herself with the dildo I cum almost before my cock is fully in her pussy. With her butt plug still in place it adds to my sensations as well as hers. My own butt plug pulls deeper into my ass as I climax.



Wiping ourselves clean, but leaving my butt plug in place and putting the dildo back in her pussy (I do let her take out her butt plug) we get back in the pickup and head for home to eat dinner and recover before the next session.

Professor Solino sat behind her messy desk correcting midterms from the introductory course. Nearly a hundred students had enrolled in her courses this semester, and she was exhausted. She’d felt exhausted all semester, as a matter of fact. The hen scratches in front of her blurred — it was barely words she was reading to begin with. The scrawls of the tech-savvy students were almost as bad as the luddites with good penmanship. Who needs help saving a file? Who!



Dr. Solino took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. In addition to the heavy workload, the malfunctioning air conditioning was starting to give her a migraine. She wished she could strip off and work naked, or at least semi-nude. But it was her office hour, and though she was sure that there were a number of her students who would dearly love to see her topless, the university tended to frown on naked profs.



She smiled at that. Last year, she’d confiscated a doodle pad masquerading as a notebook. It had been filled with hentai of her. In one, her breasts burst from her top, spilling buttons everywhere. In another, she was bent over instructing, and her boobs were falling out. In another, her tits had grown so large she couldn’t stand up. Clearly the student had had a thing for her tits. It was clear that many of her students had a thing for her tits. Her peers tended to have a thing for her tits. Her tits were huge, as her boyfriends reminded her on several occasions by fucking them till they — her boyfriends — came on her neck and chin.



She had confiscated those pictures because they’d been counterproductive. She’d kept them because they’d been inappropriate. And when she’d looked through them — all of them — she’d felt threatened. And aroused.



Multiple men.



Chicks with dicks.



Chicks with fangs and dicks.



All fucking her. Pussy. Ass. Mouth.



Sometimes she begged for mercy in the drawings. Sometimes she cried. Sometimes — and she’d had to go to one of her boyfriends for the Japanese translation — she came so hard she died. When she’d heard this, she’d creamed a little.



But what perplexed her more than the notebook was the student who’d drawn them: Oukinakumo Watanabe. Soft-spoken, tentative, alert, ostensibly attentive Oukinakumo Watanabe. Oukinakumo Watanabe was not the kind of girl anyone would ever expect to own hentai, much less produce (and possibly distribute) it.



“It’s always the quiet ones,” mused Angelica, smiling at the thought of the notebook resting naughtily in her desk drawer. She unbuttoned a button on her blouse, breathed down her shining cleavage, and got back to work.



No sooner had she turned the page than there came a knock on her door. It was quiet, but not timid. She looked up to find none other than the slender, timid form of Oukinakumo Watanabe. She smiled, perplexed.



“Hello, Oukinakumo.”



“Hello, Doctor Solino.”



“How can I help you?”



“I’ve come for my book.”



“Your book?”



“Yes, the book that you stole from me last season?”



“Ah, Oukinakumo, I didn’t steal that book. I confiscated it because it was inappropriate.”



“But you still have it.”



Oukinakumo stepped through the door. The look in the girl’s eyes was hard and determined. It was dissimilar to her usual shy tentative demeanour; and it put Doctor Solino on edge.



“I — didn’t want to destroy it. Because—” she trailed off.



“You do. Still have it?”



“I — do.”



“And where is it?”



Angelica couldn’t stop her eye shifting in the direction of the drawer in which the offensive book was kept.



“You keep it in your office? Why?”



Angelica couldn’t answer. She’d never even really thought about it before. She’d shown boyfriends and kept a smattering of images in her memory on hand, but why she was keeping the sketch book — why in her desk at her office at work — she couldn’t say. In the space, Oukinakumo answered for her.



“You can’t bear the thought of destroying those images? Sometimes you think they’re more you than you are? So you keep them close in case you have to rely on them to remember?”



Angelica winced at the incisiveness, and the insightfulness. “Yes,” she said, mystified.



“Give me my book back.”



Doctor Solino’s hand reached for the drawer. She stopped it, looked at Oukinakumo.



“That book isn’t yours,” said Oukinakumo. “It’s mine. That’s my work in your desk. My pen marks. They are not yours to have. Give them to me.”



Angelica couldn’t disagree. The student was too right. She went into the drawer and fished out the hentai drawings.



“You know,” said Angelica as she placed the notebook on her desk, “these are actually pretty good. I wish I could draw like that.”



“No,” said Oukinakumo, picking up the notebook, “you don’t.”



“I don’t?”



“No. You don’t at all.”



Angelica smiled. “Why not?”



Oukinakumo sighed, closed her eyes. Shook her head. She opened the book and placed it on the desk.



“Get up,” she said. Angelica stood. Oukinakumo searched into her eyes for a glimpse of recognition, but Angelica couldn’t offer one. Miss Watanabe shook her head. “Look at those pictures.”



Doctor Solino looked again at the graceful lines that comprised her face and bust, pussy, legs, ass. In the random images the book had opened to, she was squirting milk from her breasts all over her face and tummy. She was, her Japanese-speaking boyfriend had told her, supposed to be drinking it, but found that being covered in it was too much fun to take herself seriously. Angelica put her tongue between her lips. Something was beginning to dawn on her.



Oukinakumo seemed unimpressed. She sighed again. Her shoulders fell. She rolled her eyes. “Unbutton your blouse.” Doctor Solino obliged. She smiled again at Oukinakumo, with her shirt hanging loosely around her hips.



Then, epiphany. “Oh my Gods!” she said, and covered her breasts, though they had remained mostly covered by her shirt.



“Remove your hands from your breasts, and take your top with them.” She did. Her shirt slipped from her arms, onto the chair, and subsequently onto the floor, gathering at her heels. And before she could protest in any way, Oukinakumo had given another order. “Take off your bra.” This she did with increasing curiosity. The white lace fell to the floor with her discarded blouse.



“So, wait,” said Angelica, standing topless and sweaty in her too-warm office. Oukinakumo looked at her. “You draw people and gain control over them?”



“I do.”



“Is it anything? Just any kind of control?”



Oukinakumo’s pale skin reddened. She bowed her head. “No.”



“I see. So, if you’re so ashamed of this, why keep drawing?”



“If you have a passion for someone — some thing — would you stop it? No. All life teeters on a balance of power, and my life teeters just a little closer to death because of this. That’s all.”



“That’s incredible. I just do it without thinking. Can we do some more?”



Oukinakumo stood aghast at Angelica’s request.



“Ah, purely in the interest of science, of course.”



“Of course,” said Oukinakumo, unconvinced. “Remove the rest of your clothing.”



Doctor Solino unzipped the pencil skirt that hung reassuringly around her hips. She let the material fall away and the silk slip caress her calves as it covered her white lace bra on the floor. With her lithe fingers she unclasped the garters from their belt and removed her nude stockings and her heels with them.



When she stood up again, she was wearing only a pair of white cotton kickers and a black garter belt. Her tits were slick with sweat, not only from the heat but from the intense desire she was feeling build in her. Here was a student — former student — telling her to remove her clothes and without any hint of an ethical qualm she was taking each order in stride. Like she’d been trained. Which of course she hadn’t and even if she had, it would never have been by Oukinakumo Watanabe.



As she bent again to remove her panties and her garter belt, a trickle of sweat dripped from underneath her right breast and glistened on her nipple before falling to the floor to moisten the skirt she had removed. She stood at a kind of attention, waiting. Shook her head. Opened her mouth to speak.



“I didn’t want you to get your panties wet,” said Oukinakumo before Angelica could say anything. Instead, she stood there agape.



“Cream,” instructed Oukinakumo, and Doctor Solino was happy to oblige. A shockwave of arousal jolted her core and she relaxed into the humid scent of her cunt. Her pussy lips were sluiced — an automatic erotic response to a simple request. Then Oukinakumo’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Cream again.”



Angelica gasped as the cream from her first sluice was forced to rain down her thigh by her next sluice. Her heart pounded, her mouth was dry, her knees got week. There was nothing artificial in her arousal. How could it be possible that she could come so powerfully from just having been told to?



“I could do this all day,” said Oukinakumo, objectively. “And you’d be powerless to stop me, even if you had control of your body. You’d want me to.”



Doctor Solino remembered the studies done on rats who could choose to activate their thalamus gland. They’d died, starved and happy. She was beginning to understand Oukinakumo’s dilemma.



“Put your index finger and your ring finger on your labia, and spread them.”



Angelica’s hands — perhaps the most controlled parts of her body — acted out Oukinakumo’s whim, and she felt the soft tips of her fingers against the soft lips of her cunt. They spread, allowing the hot moving air to cool them down a little.



“Now, dip your middle finger inside and get it all wet.”



Angelica’s finger roamed about her slit, taking cream from everywhere she could find it. She toyed with her hole, but when the finger was saturated with her juice, she turned her eye to Oukinakumo for further instructions.



“Put that middle finger in your mouth and suck on it like it’s a cock.”



While Angelica Solino was working the savoury treat in and out of her mouth, she began to wonder if she weren’t controlling the experiment. She felt freed and accomplished by taking Oukinakumo’s orders so literally, and so precisely. Had there been some kind of shift in her consciousness caused by the — what was it? a hypnotic suggestion? — or had she simply relieved herself subconsciously of all ethical duties because she had an implausible plausible deniability?



Whatever it was, it was tasty!



“Now, turn around and bend over your desk. Spread the cheeks of your ass and put two fingers inside.”



Doctor Solino performed each act as the order was given. The motions came to her so smoothly, and she felt as though it would be just easy enough for her to relax into the girl’s instructions. They would carry her body. With two fingers in her asshole, she waited for Oukinakumo’s instructions. And as she waited, she relaxed. She didn’t move, she didn’t think. She simply waited.



Oukinakumo walked up to her, and put her face close to hers.



“Solino-sensei,” she said, “you are standing naked, bent over your desk, with two long-nailed fingers inside your ass. Have you done this before?”



“No.”



“Would you do this for just anyone?”



“No.”



“Have you ever fantasised about it?”



“No.”



“Do you have your answers?”



“Yes.”



“Is this enough science for the day?”



Angelica looked at Oukinokumo. The girl had a sad expression on her thin lips. She was asking permission. Permission to be let go, released. A wave of sympathy overcame Angelica.



“Go.”



“I can take my book?”



Without thinking, Angelica said, “Yes.”



Miss Watanabe took the book from the desk with haste, shut it and left. Angelica took her fingers from her ass, stood up and stared at the pile of clothes on her office floor. She had a sudden sinking sensation. This was the middle of her office hour, and here she stood, amid a sea of pussy juice and sweat, naked as the day she was born, with a craving for more instruction — more sex. If she were caught by a hapless student, she could easily be fired and never work anywhere again.



Sighing, she locked the door and sat at her desk. Still nude she put her head in her hands and tried to understand what had just happened to her.



She couldn’t. She needed more information. More experimentation. She needed to know just what kind of power Oukinokumo Watanabe was capable of. And she needed to be a research subject.



Before she made too much of a mess of her chair, she stood and dressed. Then she logged on to her university account and looked up Miss Watanabe’s e-mail.

My name is Michelle. When I was 22, I humiliated myself totally. I’m 23 now, and still living the effects of that humiliation every day.



The date was November 18, 2011. It was a Friday night, and I was alone in the apartment. At the time I lived at ********** ***** in ***** ****, MD. The time was just after 11 PM and I was on my bed, in my sexiest nightie, making love to myself. I was on my hands and knees, or more correctly, on my knees and my chest, face turned away from the window, arms limp at my sides. I had a dildo in my vagina and a vibrator up my bottom. I was so happy and content. The doorbell ruined all that.



I jerked awake and bolt upright on my hands and knees. I looked at the clock, saw that it was 11:07 PM, and then stared at my bedroom door, open-mouthed. Then I looked at my bedroom window, making sure the blinds were securely closed—they were—and waited with choked breath to see if whoever would ring again. They didn’t.



Who was it, at 11 PM at night?



Rattled, but recovering slightly, I slipped my hand around and removed both the dildo and vibrator. Quickly I slipped both under the mattress, and then padded across to the chair and snatched up my terry-clothe robe. I put it on and belted myself in on the way out the bedroom door. I crept down the hallway on my tip-toes anyway, hesitated at the kitchen door, flicked on the light, flicked it off again, and then proceeded through the dining room to the foyer (not really, just a walkway divided from the living room by an iron railing) and put my eye to the peephole. I saw only the empty landing and my neighbor’s red doors on the landing. I stepped back and bit my lower lip. Then I retreated to the end of the railing, stepped down into the living room and hurried to the balcony curtains, where I peeked out. I saw no one on the sidewalk scurrying away, nor in the parking lot. I went to my left and up one step into the den and peeked out the den’s window, which afforded a look up the parking lot I couldn’t get from the balcony doors. I still saw on one, which didn’t surprise me as it was pouring cat’s and dog’s outside. Still biting my lip, I stood back and crossed my arms over my chest.



Kids? I hadn’t experienced it yet, but Ken told me kids sometimes play bell-tag, ringing everyone’s doorbell in the building and then tearing outside to hide. Plausible, though kinda far-fetched in the rain. One of the neighbors maybe? A drunk? The wrong door? Possible, I guessed. I had taken a few moments to make it to the peephole. I was about to drop my arms and head back to the bedroom when a thought stopped me cold.



Could someone know? Could the doorbell be a wake-up call, someone saying Hi there, I know what you did? What if he had slipped a note or something under my door? I hurried back to the foyer but discovered no note. What if he taped a note to the outside of my door? Alarmed and breathless, I stuck my eye back to the peephole, made sure the landing was empty, and then twisted open the deadlock and unlocked the door and opened it an inch. There was no note, but there was a box.



Oh, no, I groaned. What is that?



Trembling now, I twisted my head back and forth to make sure the landing was truly empty, listened carefully for breathing, or any sound that might signal a lurker outside, and then closed the door and clumsily slid the chain to the side. Then I opened the door wide enough to see the entire package on the floor. “Fuck,” I muttered to myself.



The package was a plain brown cardboard shipping box, sealed across the top with transparent shipping tape. There was no label, and no markings of any kind that I could see. Still trembling, I nudged the box with my left big toe and slid it 6″ back. It was not empty, weighing, I guessed, in the neighborhood of five pounds. I couldn’t stop trembling and I couldn’t stop biting my lower lip. I hated this box.



You can’t leave it out there, I told myself.



What if it’s a bomb?



Oh, please…Really? A bomb?



Feeling stupid as well as embarrassed, I stooped down and picked up the box. Something shifted inside, something heavy enough to unbalance the box, making me almost drop it. Quickly I brought it inside and closed the door. I didn’t lock it yet, in case I need to throw the box back out. I put it on the mail desk and stood back, arms crossed again and worrying my thumbnail. This was bad. No matter what it was, this was bad.



I looked at the door, and then back at the box. I looked at the balcony curtains and then back at the box. I looked at the kitchen and through it with my x-ray eyes at my bedroom window, the probably cause of this trouble, whatever it was, and then back at the box.



Bullshit, I told myself, you’re the cause of this trouble, not the bedroom window. I sighed, and then shuffled forward to the box.



Whoever had sealed it doubled over one end of the tape as a pull. Dutifully, I pulled the tape up the side of the box, across the top and let it fall down the other side. I then crossed my arms again and stared at the lid.



Don’t be such a wuss.



I’m afraid to open the lid.



Of course you are. Open it anyway.



I did, lifting one side and then the other, and then the two end flaps.



Inside, still in their sealed blister packs were three huge dildos: one white, and the other two black. I gasped and skipped back, releasing the lids, which fell back into place. I continued backing until I hit the rail, and then twisted my head to look at the balcony curtains.



* * *



I was panic-stricken. Someone knew my secret. Apparently, someone knew all my secrets. Mewling pitifully, I backed from the box and covered my mouth with my right hand. My left arm remained over my chest, clutching me. I stumbled on the edge of the step-down and wind-milled a moment, before stepping down into the living room and stumbling four steps into the coffee table.



“Ow!” I complained shrilly, grabbing both my shin and my toes, three of which I’d stubbed on the unforgiving wood. Tearing, I looked up at the box, accused it unfairly, This is your fault, massaged my sore toes and sat down in the chair to consider.



Was this Ken? No kids had left that box in the damned hallway. Ken seemed the best bet: he knew what I liked and was not above a practical joke. But I had talked to Ken two hours ago, and unless he’d lied to me about being in Buffalo, it couldn’t be him.



Then who?



I began to tremble all over and clutched myself across the chest. My teeth started to chatter and I made mewling noises again. I hunched over to control my shivering. And then, some defiant part of me asked, So what?



What do you mean, So what?”



It’s not like you didn’t ask for this, Michelle.



I sat up, indignant. What are you talking about?



My defiant side laughed. I blushed, acknowledging the point.



“Oh, shut up,” I muttered reproachfully and stood up.



The dildos were all Doc Johnson’s. The same brand as my own, though all considerably larger. I laughed at the understatement. The one Ken bought me and which had been in my vagina only a short time ago was 7″ long, with imitation testicles and scrotum forming a flat base. It could stand vertically. The next size up, the 9″ older brother of my dildo was the smallest of the three in the box. Ballsy Super Cock it said on the package. It was an order of magnitude larger than my own, at least to my inexperienced eyes. It alone would challenge my vagina. The other two dildos were monsters.



I emitted a sudden, embarrassing giggle and mortified, looked at the apartment door, and then guiltily at the balcony drapes. I knew without any conscious decision that these were not from a neighbor. Someone had seen me. Someone with binoculars, obviously, though how I still didn’t know. I never did anything with a light on.



The answer was obvious, of course: Infrared. Someone had watched me using infrared binoculars. I had never even considered it–idiotic, considering this was 2011 and everyone and his brother had night-vision binoculars…I had even seen reports on the nightly news: No privacy, even in your home!



Chagrined, I unconsciously tightened the robe at my throat and felt totally violated.



The two remaining dildos, both black were a joke. Neither could be used on a normal 22 year old female. Certainly not on me. The smaller was 12″ long—just the shaft was 12″ long!—with a suction cup at the base. The shaft was roughly circular at the base, a poor representation of balls. I shivered, imagining me lowering myself onto that. It was twice the thickness of my 7″ dildo.



The larger dildo was just ridiculous. Ludicrous. I picked it up and gazed at it in awe. 18″ long, the package said. I believed it, without doubt. It too was all shaft with a slightly rounded base and a suction cup at the end. It must weight 3 or 4 lbs.



I laughed, imagining Ken brandishing it at me, grinning like a pirate. Ahoy, me Lassie. Prepare to be skewered. It was big around as a Coke can, probably larger, with a head the size of a Rhinoceros’s. What it would do to my…I shoved that thought away roughly. And then I noticed the note.



Oh, my God…there was a note. Horrified, I backed away again.



* * *



It was short and impersonal. No greeting, no explanation, no threats of blackmail, no taunts. Just a man’s semi-neat handwriting noting two website addresses; one each, corresponding to one of the monstrous dildos. Both were to the website xHamster. I’d never heard of it.



Going to the bedroom, I grabbed my laptop off the desk and took it anxiously into the dining room and sat down. One news report I’d seen claimed some infrared devices peer right through your blinds and drapes and into your bedroom to see you–or the infrared image of you–and whatever you were doing. Considering my proclivities, I should have paid more attention, I realized. I typed in the first address and sat back.



It was my 12″ long dildo. It was suction-cupped to a kitchen floor—I assumed it was a kitchen as the floor was linoleum and I could see the bottom of what looked like the dishwasher on one side, and the stove on the other. Some cabinets, and a discarded black t-shirt? Anyway, the camera was on the floor and the video was titled “Ramming my gay ass on a huge anal dildo.” I winced, guessing what came next.



A naked pair of legs strode past the camera and a man positioned himself and without hesitation lowered himself onto the dildo. He’d obviously been doing this for a while because he immediately began to fuck himself, rushing up and down the shaft like he did this every day instead of running. My eyes practically burst out of my head when he rammed down and took the entire dildo up his ass.



No way! I shouted mentally. I stared open mouthed as the guy again and again impaled himself, taking the entire shaft up his ass. It was impossible. The human rectum was not that long. I knew this for a fact because I could barely take the length of my 7″ dildo, and the shaft of that is only 5″ long. The white dildo in the box would bottom me out, I was sure of it. And yet, this man was slamming up and down on this dildo’s impossible length like it was 4:” long. Either men were different than women, or rectums stretched a whole lot farther than I had imagined



I finished the video, and then watched it again, equally mesmerized. Did my secret admirer think I was a guy? Was he suggesting a use? Was this just the most demonstrable video he’d found for the 12″ dildo’s use? I hunched my shoulders and blushed in embarrassment. He’d obviously watched me take the dildo up my ass. I did this often, when the need for a cock overwhelmed my satisfaction with the vibrator. He must have seen this. And imagined I would like something more adventurous, something bigger for my ass? I looked at the kitchen wall, happy in the certainty that no infrared device could see me through brick and mortar, drywall and stud construction. But I hated that my nipples were hard and my groin buzzing expectantly.



Frustrated, I typed in the second address and was confronted by another gay guy, this one on his hands and knees with my 18″ dildo up his ass. Again my eyes popped out at the aggressive use of this dildo. I snapped my mouth closed at the same time I unconsciously drew my feet up and propped them on the edge of the seat cushion.



This was impossible. No human anus could stretch to that size. No human rectum, even a male’s, could take that kind of pounding. He wasn’t even taking it all, either. The video was entitled: “Anal dildo gay huge toy fucking.” I watched it through to the end, amazed and aghast.



Below the video were two rows of related videos, represented by 1″ square photos. Hovering the pointer above a photo showed a series of stills. One video made me blink in consternation. I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Was that…that couldn’t be…no way. I clicked the photo without viewing the stills and waited for the page to load. It just wasn’t possible. I had to be seeing wrong. This was trick photography.



It took forever for the video to load and I fidgeted, waiting, worrying my thumbnail. I realized my toes were curled under and looked down at my feet, propped on the chair. I reminded myself of some neurotic teenager awaiting her boyfriends phone call. I put my feet down and my hands in my lap. Finally the video started and I wasn’t seeing things. She was a slender blond in black thigh highs. She knelt on a flowered blue couch with the most monstrous dildo up her ass. Incongruously, a large stuffed bunny rabbit sat on the couch to her right, and a long black dildo on the cushion to her left. What she had up her ass was…



“Impossible,” I said aloud. I swept hair behind my ears and leaned in close to the screen, almost nose to plastic. The dildo was a reddish gel, flared widely at the base, almost as big around as a dinner plate. The head was easily the size of a 2-litre bottle of Coke, maybe even larger. Half the shaft was in her and she was wagging her tail like a dog, slowly pushing it out. The head caught in her anus and she literally had to force it past the overextended ring. My mouth was almost as round as her stretched anus and my eyes the size of the dildo’s base. I could not believe what I was seeing.



“Not possible,” I kept repeating. The video, entitled “Huge anal dildo for my tiny cam girl” was only a minute and 57 seconds long. I watched it time and time again, no less flabbergasted each time. It seemed almost acceptable that she fisted herself with ease half a dozen times at the end.



How had she gotten the thing up her? The dildo was larger than every dildo in my apartment put together. I closed the lid of the laptop and crossed my arms. This guy, whoever he was, knew me better than I knew myself. He must have guessed I’d see the girl on the couch with the reddish dildo and become ferociously aroused, which I was. Why else show me the dildos being used anally? He knew I’d want to.



Standing up, I returned to the foyer and picked up the box and carried it to my bedroom.



* * *



No way was I opening the blinds. I was petrified, skittish as a 13 year old with a pair of hands groping her body the first time. I wanted privacy and closed blinds were not enough. Chewing my thumbnail, I wondered what to do. There was a heavy, rubber-backed insulated blanket in the bedroom closet. Ken had bought it as protection against power failures like we’d had two winters ago. I shook it out and eyed the vertical blinds. Just big enough, I thought. Grabbing the kitchen step stool, I draped the blanket over the top of the valance, then waited to see if it stayed. It didn’t, so I grabbed a couple pair of Ken’s sock and jammed them between the valance and the wall. The blanket now stayed, even when tugged on.



See through that, Mr. Smarty-pants, I thought. Of course, that sounded ludicrous, considering what I’d down in this apartment and what I planned to do.



My apartment. Imagine a rectangle 9″ wide by 7″ tall. Now divide the rectangle vertically into three equal quadrants, 3″ wide. This is roughly the layout of my apartment.



In the top corner of the left quadrant is my apartment door. Running left to right from the door is my little foyer, including the hall closest. The rest of the quadrant is my living room and the balcony. The balcony is perhaps 1″ tall at the bottom.



The middle quadrant consists of my dining room, kitchen and den, top to bottom. The kitchen has a door into the dining room and one into the den. A door in the den lets you step down into the living room.



On your imaginary rectangle, take a ¾” tall notch out of bottom of the right quadrant. This accounts for a step back in the face of the building; the den sticks out farther than the bedroom.



The right-hand quadrant consists of the bathroom, bedroom and walk-in closet. A short hallway gives access to the bathroom and bedroom. The hallway is about 4′ long and runs left to right in the floor plan. If you walk down the hallway, the door on your left is the bathroom, and the one on the right is the bedroom. Straight ahead is the linen closet. The tub is on the right-hand side of the bathroom, and backs against the walk-in closet, which runs vertically in the right hand corner of the rectangle, the length of the bathroom and linen closet. The rest of the right-hand quadrant is my bedroom. The door to the walk-in closet is in the upper right corner, the bedroom door in the left.



My bedroom window faces the parking lot. My bed is parallel to the window and the headboard is against the end wall, meaning that I look out the window laying in bed. I have the right side of the bed, closet the window; Ken has the left-side, closest the closet and bedroom doors. I explain this in order for you to understand what I do. Earlier tonight, when I was so blissfully enjoying my dildo and vibrator, well sometimes I do that in front of the open bedroom window.



* * *



OK, I’ve said it. I’m a depraved exhibitionist. Well, maybe not depraved; men are depraved. Shameless, then. Anyway, I’ve done some really stupid things.



Tonight, for a reason I can’t really explain, I had not been exhibiting myself. Ken works shifts, and on the nights he works, I sometimes enjoy myself. Tonight was unusual in respects that I’ll explain later on.



Despite the insulated blanket over the window, I remained skittish. What if his binoculars could see my heat image right through the rubber mat. I was the only thing giving off heat in the bedroom besides the light, and I didn’t like that idea. After a long moment’s consideration, I carried the box back into the dining room and sat it on the table. Looking at your sketch fo my floor plan (assuming you made one), you’ll see that I was quite protected there, invisible from any prying eyes, human or electronic. But what did I intend to do?



“What are you going to do?” I asked aloud. What I wanted to do, of course, was try out the proffered dildos. I had dashed into the bedroom in a state of overwhelming arousal; sitting at the dining room table now, considering things with relative dispassion, I looked at things rationally. I wanted the two smaller dildos in my ass, and the larger one for my vagina. (I doubted I had the courage, despite the evidence of the videos, to attempt anything that big anally.) I opened the box and peered inside. First, were they safe?



I lifted out the 9″ Super Ballsy-Cock and inspected the package. It was not up to that of say, electronic items, but I detected nothing to indicate the package had been opened before. Neither the package for the 12″ long cock. The 18″ ogre was in a box, but both ends were sealed with those round plastic circles, and they both looked un-tampered with. So I assumed all three dildo’s were new and unused. And then I noticed something else. Hidden in the bottom inside crumpled paper was a jar of KY Jelly. I removed it, ogling the jumbo container, the size of a Vaseline jar, which it was meant to replace, I guess. I searched through the remaining paper and discovered two cartons of KY Personal Lubricant, the size and kind Ken and I use. Now I really was embarrassed. I looked again through the kitchen and den with my x-ray eyes at the parking lot.

I should explain my apartment development. It’s laid out like a stylized, mirror-image letter K. Actually, the parking lot is, with the buildings grouped in clusters along it. If you Google the place, the shape is readily apparent. It could also be construed as the stylized image of a man, facing left, in profile, like what you might see in Egyptian hieroglyphics or in the Andean desert. His arms are raised in homage or offering, his right leg forward, his left leg back, in line with his body. My apartment complex is located at the tip of his right foot, running vertically out of the ground. It’s comprised of three separate buildings, my building being the first out of the ground. Each floor contains six apartments; two bedroom apartments on the left side of the building; one-bedroom apartments, like mine, on the right side. Each building is three stories tall. I am (or was) in the front, 2nd floor apartment.



In front of the man’s right leg, starting about mid-shin and extending to about his waist is a two-building complex, and directly across from me at twice the distance is another two-building complex, in front of his left leg. It’s tilted away from my building at about a 15 degree angle. The end of those two buildings and mine are roughly aligned at the man’s ground level. It’s that two-building set of apartments I had to worry about. The other two buildings were too far to my left to offer a view into my bedroom window.



Of the six apartments with a view of my bedroom window (all are one-bedroom’s I later discovered), the apartments on the far left offered the best chance. This would actually be three apartments, one on each level. I figured the 2nd and 3rd floor apartments offered the best chance; the ones on the ground floor, not so likely, due to elevation differences, but still possible, I guess.



The apartments to the right of that 3-story stack offered a more restricted view of my bedroom, but still plainly saw my bed. My best guess was the top left or the apartment just below it. Sitting there at the dining room table, I could envision it in my mind’s eye. And felt depressed. How could I be so stupid? At least, I wasn’t being stupid now.



I wanted the black, 12″ long cock. I’d reserve the 9″ Super Ballsy-Cock for when I went to bed later on, after some of the anxiety passed. The truth was, I wanted to see if I could handle something so big. The thought had me trembling.



Refusing to stand the thing upright off the kitchen floor, I looked around for an alternate place to stick it. The dining room wall immediately came to mind; but I saw a problem there too. I wanted the dildo all the way in me; planting it against the wall could keep me from doing that. My toes might hit the baseboard, and I had no experience fucking a dildo suctioned to the wall. A second option presented itself: The kitchen doorway? I could straddle the wall either side and press back against the jamb. Excited, I dropped to my knees and gave the position a try. It worked perfectly, except my head hit the doorway on the other side when I mimed drawing myself off the dildo, making me laugh. It felt good to laugh.



I trembled, opening the blister pack. I reminded myself—unnecessarily—that I had been given this by party unknown, for the express purpose of humiliating myself further, a purpose I seemed bent on fulfilling. And didn’t care. Freeing it, I took it to the kitchen sink and scrubbed the dildo thoroughly with dishwashing detergent, a task I would have performed regardless. Then I dried and weighed it in my hand.



The guy in the video had put this whole thing us his ass, all 12″ of it. It seemed impossible to me. For me, at least. The 9″ dildo would be a sufficient test of my capabilities, but I didn’t really even consider it. I wanted this dildo up my ass.



I had never stuck a dildo on a wall before. I repeated my earlier test and placed my thumb where the dildo should go, then ground my thumb against the paint to leave a mark. Barely distinguishable, but there. I centered the suction cup over the mark and pressed it on. It hung there, drooping naturally, looking horribly real. I giggled and covered my mouth. I shouldn’t do this, I thought. I shed the robe, dropped to my knees and hiked up my nightie. Of course, I had forgotten the KY jelly. Sighing, I stood up an retrieved the jar from the dining room table. Glancing at the waiting dildo, I decided I would need it.



* * *



It was after 4 A.M. I was sore as a bride on her wedding night. The virgin bride of Lexington Steele, the porn star. I could barely move. I’d be so sore in the morning.



I was in bed, having finally given in to the need to rest. I was on my tummy with my new 9″ fella up my behind, and the vibrator purring happily inside my vagina. My arms were limp at my sides and my face turned to the window. It was still covered by the thermal blanket, so I felt relatively safe. Relatively. Safe enough to be laying there, anyway.



I was in my panties, as well as the nightie. It was a pair Ken had never seen before. They were pushed halfway down my behind, just below the shaft of the dildo. The base overlaid them, tight to the soft material. I had my legs spread, wide enough to allow my fingertips to gently rotate the vibrator when needed. I was laying atop one on my pillows, elevating me slightly. As big as it was, I could barely feel the dildo up my rear end. It was more an emotional presence inside me than a physical one. I was a very happy girl.



I had fucked myself silly with both larger dildos. I had promised my rear end I wouldn’t subject it to the 18″ monster, but I had broke my promise. I did it only once, but once was enough. That’s not why I hurt so badly though; that was the 12″ dildo’s doing. More precisely, my doings with it.



In the kitchen doorway I had opened the jar of KY and personally lubed the entire shaft with my fingertips. Then I personally lubed myself, using my fingertips again. I lubed myself inside and out. My vagina, I mean. I had committed myself to the thing anally, but I wanted vaginal intercourse with it first. Dropping to one hand, I flipped the nightie up to my waist and backed to the dildo. I touched it along the top of the shaft and repositioned it with my fingertips. I eased back, holding my breath, relocating it in my opening. It was alarmingly big, larger than anything I’d ever put in me before. I should have begun with the 9″ dildo, I thought. Regardless, I pushed back until the head forced its way in, making me wince and gasp softly. Wow, that was big!



I waited a moment. “OK,” I whispered, “you can do this.” I kept imagining someone across the parking lot watching me do this. If not watching, then imagining. The same way I was imagining him, watching me. I pushed back a little more, and the dildo inched in a corresponding distance. I could not imagine anyone slamming himself or herself up and down this shaft. That was insane. I eased forward and then back, forward and back, accustomizing myself to the girth, or trying to. It was a lot to be accustomed to. I breathed through my mouth, found myself staring blankly at the jamb ahead, alternately approaching and retreating from my face.



I had never cheated on Ken. I didn’t consider what I did to myself in his absence as cheating. It was simply pleasuring myself, as I’d done all my life. I knew he masturbated in private–all guys do–so he must suspect I did the same. This gifted dildo though–specifically what I was doing with it—may have crossed the line. I felt I was cheating on him now, in some form or another. I was fucking someone else in essence, if not in fact. It might as well be his cock. This should have bothered me more than it did.



The KY did its job and within minutes I was sliding to my limit up and down the shaft. Each push backward drove the tip in a little deeper; each thrust against my cervix stretched me and made me longer. In five short minutes I was screwing the dildo as hard as I’d screwed anything in my life. I panted, my hair swinging back and forth. I repositioned myself to get the best position, looking back over my shoulder to watch the glistening shaft appear and disappear, looking between my legs so that my hair brushed the floor. I lowered myself until my nipples brushed floor also, my left nipple on linoleum, my right against the dining room carpet. I was enjoying myself way too much.



How much am I taking, I wondered? I reached back and felt 4 of the 12 inches protruding from my vagina. I wanted it all, but knew I’d rupture something achieving that. A vagina could stretch only so far. So I concentrated on getting as much enjoyment from the shaft as I could.



Minutes went by. I grew more aggressive, more aroused, more agitated. Holy God, I thought. I was so glad no one could see me. I was practically wanton in my fucking and I did things to the dildo that I’d never done to a real cock, like talking to it, asking it to fuck me harder, telling it what an ideal lover it was, promising it could take me up the ass as soon as it wanted, and assuring it that I’d never had black up my ass before. It was my first. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to have it.



The key, I knew, was not looking back until it was in me. Never look down, they say. Getting my nightie clear, I used two fingers to lubricate my anus and the surrounding area, pushing some inside me–pushing a lot inside me–and then guiding the tip between my cheeks and holding my breath. Then I partially chickened out, turned around and lubricate the head and long shaft with gobs of KY. I was trembling when I turned around again. I remembered the first time I’d put something up my rear end, how scary that was, and this was ten times as bad.



“Don’t hurt me,” I pleaded softly.



I needed my head examined. I kept thinking of the monster inside the box and how I wouldn’t use it on myself. I promised myself that, promised it to my rectum and to my asshole. (I hate the word asshole, but I hate the word anus even more.) Easing back, I guided the tip into place with my fingertips and pushed back gently against it. The KY worked again and slowly the head spread me open and then filled me, making me gasp in pain. I held myself motionless until my tortured sphincter relaxed enough to let out my breath.



This really hurt! This was almost the size of a Coke can. Ken joked about me taking a Coke can sometimes, a tease that simultaneously aroused and humiliated me. I had once tried it with another boyfriend when really drunk and high, and had failed. Ken had shown me on You Porn that it was possible, and had gently cajoled me ever since, sometimes seriously, sometimes not. I was doing it tonight without him.



“I bet you wish you could see me doing this,” I said to my admirer. “I bet this would really turn you on, wouldn’t it? What it is about a girl’s asshole that turns you guys on so much?”



I eased back, letting the head travel an inch farther up my ass. It occurred to me this would completely fill my rectum, leaving room for nothing else. Maybe I should have given myself an enema. Enemas always turned me on and I had a kit on the top shelf of my closet. Ken administered them to me sometimes, and sometimes I did them myself, when he wasn’t home. He loved how it brought out my submissive side, how they made me squirm and moan with pleasure. He always laughed when I dashed frantically into the bathroom. He always appreciated a clean rectum to fuck.



But I rejected the idea, refusing for any reason to get off my hands and knees and possibly ruin my fun. Besides, the dildo said no. I was to remain right here.



I fucked myself on it, very slowly, inching back more each time until finally the tip bottomed out. I felt with my fingertips and discovered the same length of dildo sticking out of me that I had taken vaginally. Maybe closer to 5″, meaning that I had 7″ of cock up my rear. The length of the 9″ dildo in the box.



I wondered how much more I’d try to force in, how much pain I was willing to inflict on myself. I knew from experience that I’d suffer for this in the morning. The pain would be high up, like at the top of my uterus, a discomfort that embarrassed me all day long, knowing its cause, and that I did it to myself. Having this thing up me would be so much worse.



I started to fuck it again, experiencing the feel of my rectum filling and emptying, filling and emptying, alternately stopping with the head clutched by my asshole, or pulling myself completely off, and then pushing myself back on again. I couldn’t decide which method I enjoyed most. My asshole got more of a workout opening and closing, and somehow I liked that idea.



I became wanton again. I was more careful, of course, not thrusting myself back against the tip as I had done in my vagina. That orifice is designed for extended, rough-house workouts, where I knew my rectum wasn’t. This was the reason so many gays got AIDS: the rectum was thinner and more vulnerable to damage.



I wondered distractedly what time it was. Craning my neck, and lifting up on my left fingertips, I saw by the microwave clock that it was 1:07 A.M. It struck me that two hours had passed since the doorbell rang. I looked around at the box. I thought hungrily about the monster inside it, waiting for me. I licked my lips, knowing my promise might be broken. I apologized contritely to my rectum and asshole, begging their forgiveness. My rectum reminded me what I already had inside us. I was becoming really sore.



“I don’t care,” I discounted breezily. “I’m having fun.”



Finally, at almost 1:30 A.M, I forced myself to stop. I was sweaty and panting and verging on shamelessness. I had forced myself to take 9″ of Lexington’s length, doing it time after time after time, and I was now almost too sore to move. I moaned, placing my left hand against my poor belly. It felt bloated and rigid. It complained fiercely, decrying my stupidity. The worse of it was I was completely sober, completely straight; I had nothing to blame this on except my own self. At least Ken plied me with liquor and got me high when he wanted my ass. I had no excuse.



For the last time, I leaned forward and let Lex slip free of my ass. I crawled away, circling on my hands and knees to the other side of the table before helping myself to a standing position and then sitting down.



“Wow,” I said aloud. “What am I doing to myself?” I looked at Lex, obscenely drooping from the kitchen doorway. It called to me like a Siren. I could hear its song in my head, luring me back, wanting to wreck me on its shoal. I wanted it to. But I wanted John more. I looked inside the box. “You won’t be gentle with me, will you?”



John was too big. I remembered from the video the guy on his knees holding the dildo mid-shaft as he fucked himself. I had no intention of doing that. I wanted to fuck John, not the other way around. Just as I had done to Lex. But I also wanted to leave Lex up, knowing I’d switch back and forth between the two, vagina to asshole. (Yes, I planned to wash Lex before I put him back into my vagina—or my mouth.)



Out of his box, John was unwieldy and much too heavy; gripping him by the base, his head almost drooped to the floor. I discovered he bent in the middle as well, meaning I’d have a hard time getting him in and out of my vagina, much less my ass. And unlike Lex, I doubted I could hold him in place just be leaning against his head. I’d constantly have to be picking him up and repositioning him against my vagina or asshole. There had to be a solution. And, of course, there was.



* * *



Ken would kill me. I laughed, just thinking about it. Not actually kill me, but scratch his head in aggravation over the hole I’d put in the doorjamb with a screw.



“You are nuts,” I told myself, giggling. I held Ken’s battery driven screwdriver in my hand.



Ken disliked me doing anything to the apartment without his knowledge. The first time I’d hung a picture without his knowledge (two months after I’d moved in with him), he made me take it down again, plaster over the holes myself, and then repaint that section of wall. He had then spanked me for my presumptiveness.



“This is my apartment. Until your name is on the lease, and until you pay half the rent, young lady, you don’t poke holes in the walls without asking me first.” I had thought he was kidding, but I had found out otherwise. Now, since this apartment was half-mine, both legally and spiritually, I could poke holes in the walls all I liked. He would just find this particular hole unexplainable, that’s all. Unless I plastered it up and painted over it, which seemed like a good idea. I still giggled, looking at it.



Actually, what I was looking at was the screw head. The hole was invisible beneath the width of an out of fashion red leather belt, screwed into the middle of the jamb through the middle hole in the tongue. The buckle end was wrapped tightly around John’s middle, supporting him against the infallible pull of gravity. Ingenious, I if I did say so myself. Ludicrous looking, but ingenious.



“If it works for bridges, why not dildos?” I asked confidently.



“I’m waiting,” John said in a gruff voice. “I don’t like being kept waiting. Especially by no white bitch”



I demurely sat the screw-gun down on the table. “You don’t have to be so mean about it,” I mumbled defensively. I crossed my arms over my chest.



“Get over here, bitch.”



I obediently circled to the doorway, stood there with my shoulders hunched, shivering slightly.



“Get off that nightie, bitch.”



I began to raise it over my head but he tore it violently across the bodice, exposing me. “No!” I protested. “This cost a hundred dollars!” A lie; it cost me $33.50 on Amazon.



He ripped it completely apart, rending the gauzy red material and leaving me completely nude. “Noooo,” I mewled again, covering up. He roughly put my arms at my sides.



“You call those boobs? I’ve seen better racks on a 13 year old. You sure you ain’t 13, bitch?”



I shook my head no. He laughed.



“This is how it go. I fuck you cunt, then I fuck you ass. Lex over there, you gonna suck him, while I fuck you. We gonna have a good time with you mouth and you ass too. Here me bitch?”



“My name is not bitch,” I complained. I yelped and skipped forward, holding my right butt-cheek. “OK. Ok. You don’t have to hit me.”



John laughed gruffly again, Lex joining him. I rubbed my sore butt.



“On you knees, bitch,” he ordered. I got on my knees.



“Get you ass over here,” he ordered. I got my ass over there.



“Lube me up good and thick. I gonna need plenty lube to fit that tight ass of yours.” I lubed his front half thoroughly with KY.



Tremulously, I asked: “Can I wash John first? He was up my—”



“No!” he barked, cutting me off.



“Please?” I whined. “He was up my butt.”



He grinned salaciously.



“Please?” I repeated.



“I like you sucking John’s dirty cock. You afraid of sometin’, bitch?”



“Dysentery,” I mumbled.



“Disin-what? You dissin’ me, bitch?”



“No, sir,” I denied meekly. “Dysentery. It’s a sickness you get from ingesting feces.”



He laughed at me. I blushed bright red.



“Feces?”



“From my behind,” I mumbled, mortified.



“I know where feces comes from, bitch. You never tasted you own feces before?”



I couldn’t answer the question. He continued to laugh. “Go ahead and clean him then.”



I hurriedly snatched Lex off the doorjamb and rushed him to the sink before John changed his mind. I snuck glances at him peripherally. He just continued to hang there and grin, enjoying my discomfort. I wanted to run and hide in the bedroom. When I had Lex spick and span again, I returned him to his place on the jamb. John told me to hurry my ass up. I did.



“Over here, bitch.”



“Yes, sir,” I muttered compliantly.



“Put you cunt right against my cock.”

I backed, looking over my shoulder, making contact with his head. It felt like the end of that reddish dildo from the video. I shivered.



“You afraid, bitch?”



“Yes, sir,” I answered truthfully. I was petrified.



“I gonna fuck the shit out you, bitch. You think Man-O-War been at you tonight. I gonna make you walk like a cowgirl. You ready to get saddle sore?”



“Yes, sir,” I agreed again. He roughly pulled me back against his head and I cried out and clamped my jaws and jammed shut my eyelids and bared my teeth and sucked in breath



That hurts!” I whimpered.



“Course it hurts, bitch! I want it to hurt.”



“You don’t have to hurt me,” I complained. “I’ll do what you say.”



“I don’t want you to do what I say. I want you to do it to you.”



So I did it to myself.



If Lex was hard to handle, John was impossible. It felt like a bus trying to fit through the door of a household garage. I whimpered and clenched every muscle as John stretched the mouth of my vagina until it felt two feet wide. I gasped, mouth and eyes popped wide, staring at the floor. Occasionally I bumped Lex with my head, but I didn’t register that I should be dutifully sucking him as I mounted John. I was in too much pain to maintain the conversation. I seriously considered pulling off and giving this up. I couldn’t understand how anyone could put this up his or her ass. My vagina was screaming at me. And then slowly, the agony eased and I could breath again.



“Oh, my God,” I huffed. “That hurts.”



John said nothing. Perhaps he couldn’t, being in my cunt. Panting, repositioning myself pointlessly, I slowly began to rock back and forth on John’s head. It didn’t slide in and out, only moved my clenched muscles. He was jammed tight in my hole. “This really hurts,” I repeated.



“Suck me to take your mind off it,” Lex suggested in his deep bass voice.



I thought that an excellent idea.



With my hands planted, I ran my mouth alongside Lox’s shaft and raised him, fitting him into my mouth. Being rubbery was the only reason he fit. He filled my mouth almost as tightly as John filled my vagina.



“This is ridiculous!’ I said around the head. “I can’t do this.” How John understood me I don’t know. He laughed–hard to do from inside a vagina, I imagine. Lex laughed into my mouth.



“It’s not funny!” I complained. “My joints are about to pop.” In fact, my joints felt like someone was hammering a nail into them, or more rightly, into my ears. And my mouth is really big. Just ask Ken.



I rocked forward and Lex slipped deeper into my mouth. I rocked back, and John edged half a millimeter forward. Not much progress here. I had never been plugged from both ends before, certainly not by two blacks. It was a night of firsts.



Conversationally, Lex asked: “So, you like black?”



“You’re really big,” I panted. “Are all blacks like you?”



Lex and John both laughed.



“What?” I muttered defensively. “I’ve never done a black guy before.”



They both laughed again. Lex said: “We like white folk because their holes so small. A black girl be thrusting back on John like a 10-cent ho. White women we hurt. More fun that way.”



“Black girls are bigger?” I asked.



They both laughed again. “Why you think we got such big cocks?”



As the minutes progressed, so did I. Amazingly, my vagina discovered it could stretch to fit even John. John certainly liked it. And Lex seemed to enjoy my mouth.



“You suck pretty good for a white girl, Michelle,” he said, pronouncing it as you might a black girl’s name; long E instead if I.



Gasping, I said Thank you, and kissed his head.



“Like when you kiss it like that,” he said. “Shows the proper deference.”



“Respect,” John suggested from inside me.



“Reverence,” Lex put forth.



“Worship,” John said.



“Submissive, more like it,” I muttered, drawing admonitions from them both. Lex put my mouth back to work.



It took a while, but even my mouth proved it could handle the chore. One slow push forward, I had Lex enter my throat, and for a time I just held there, battling my gag reflex, trying not to choke, letting my eyes water and my nose run. I’ve never been good at deep throat, yet here I was, a cock the size of my fist in my throat. Grunting, I eased him farther in, and moved my head whatever way would help. Lex seemed fairly amazed. Speechless, in fact. John was also. Not bad for a white girl.



I refused to give up, telling myself I would put Lex entirely down my throat and even though it never happened, I tried valiantly. Nearly choked myself to death, but I tried.



At 2:25 A.M., I abandoned a disappointed Lex and concentrated on pleasing John. Lex had taken his turn with me earlier, both vaginally and anally; I needed to concentrate on John. Closing my eyes, I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, breathed deeply and pushed and pulled myself up and down John’s cock. He was so big, I was stretched so tight, even half an hour of John being in me hadn’t changed that. It was still like trying to fuck a bus.



“Oh, my God,” I moaned. I missed my nightie and regretted tearing it off. Letting John tear it off me, I mean. It was my favorite piece of lingerie and it practically cuddled my small breasts. Just seeing it in the mirror released a hormone rush that made me shiver. A blue one hung in my closet, but it wasn’t the same. I missed my red nightie. I always felt sexier in something see-thru and red.



I became shameless again. I forced myself farther and farther and father back onto John’s shaft. I assaulted my cervix mercilessly, making it seek a restraining order against me. I ignored the order, dragging my hair on the floor, my nipples, my ribs, my chin, my cheeks, getting the 8″ I wanted. Sweat soaked my hair and ran in rivulets down my cheeks. My underarms were damp and I could smell myself now. I breathed with my mouth wide open. I humiliated myself in front of Lex, and I hadn’t attempted the impossible yet.



My God, I though. it was 3:15 A.M. I had done this for 45 minutes now. My vagina felt like a pit under construction with blasting. Why, I kept asking myself, was I doing this to myself? And I knew what was coming next. I looked at Lex.



“I’m going to do it now.”



Lex shook his head. “Bad idea.”



“I have to try,” I insisted. “I did it with you.”



Lex pointed out the obvious difference in size. I reminded him of the gay guy on his knees, and the blonde girl with her uber-dildo.



“Remember what their assholes looked like when they took it out,” he reminded me unnecessarily.



“I know,” I muttered. “I’m really stupid to do this.”



“You were stupid to do it with me.”



Apologizing, I eased myself off John’s shaft and went to the bathroom. I needed to pee like a racehorse but it came out like a 90 year old man with a prostate. I moaned as it dribbled into the bowl. I was being so stupid. Did I want to ruin myself, perform my own hysterectomy? It felt like I’d had already had one, without anesthesia.



“Are you coming out?” I pleaded.



It came out a drop at a time. I was becoming scared now. Finally, something relaxed and a pencil thin stream emptied me after a minute or two. I wiped myself, grossed out by the mess of KY and my own personal lubricant. I giggled, wiping my behind. Then I remembered that I needed it, gross or not I flushed the toilet and hobbled back to the kitchen.



“I’m ready now,” I said. “Um, just a second, okay?” I semi-dashed into the bedroom and into the closet and slipped on my blue nightie. I smoothed it in place, enjoying the feel of soft nylon. It’s touch made me shiver. I still missed my red one, but I had made that bed myself so I couldn’t complain. I hurried back to John and Lex.



“You sure about this?” Lex asked.



“Shut up nigger!” John yelled at him. “The bitch—”



“Please don’t call me that!” I cried. “My name is Michelle! And I don’t like the N-word either. Please don’t use that in front of me: it’s insulting, as well as offensive. Two of my best friends are black.” Actually, three were, but Rochelle came to mind only after I’d spoken. Rochelle was the only girl I’d ever kissed and meant it.



John glared at me one-eyed, unrepentant. Lex grinned. “Pay the girl some respect, bitch. She could always take you down and pack you away.”



“Or shit-can you,” I threatened.



John grumbled, but agreed not to call me bitch anymore, nor Lex the N-word. I felt much better about that. I really hate the N-word.



John invited me to my knees and I complied, flipping my nightie out of the way. I backed against him, wincing at the already painful contact. I assumed I had a hemorrhoid. A big one. They say the best remedy for hemorrhoids is to ass-fuck them away, so I had that covered. I rubbed myself up and down on his head, sighed, and apologized.



“Sorry. I’m not lubricated enough.”



I applied copious amounts of KY to both John and myself, grinned sheepishly and backed against him again. I felt lubed enough to handle a telephone pole. It felt like a telephone pole behind me. I gently pressed back and moaned as my asshole started to spread. The moan wasn’t entirely from pleasure. I got bigger, and bigger, and bigger and bigger. Finally I halted, looking over my shoulder and between my legs in disbelief. It felt like The Hulk was fisting me. I panted, hoping to ease the pain a little. It didn’t work. “I can’t do this,” I whined.



“Sure you can. Just hold still until your asshole adjusts.”



“Easy for you to say,” I muttered angrily. “It’s not your asshole.” In fact, it didn’t feel like my asshole either. How could something do this to me and not be in me all the way? It felt exactly like the red dildo had felt to the blond girl. I know, because I felt that way myself.



What if I ripped a muscle? What my rectum tore and I started to bleed inside? I thought this a distinct possibility. I put my forehead against the floor and panted, counted to 10, and then upwards to a hundred. Finally the pain started to ease. I exhaled, shook my head back and forth, watched my hair drag the floor. Was this even worth it? I craved sexual challenge, but how much challenge could my orifices take? What if my asshole stopped working and I had to wear diapers? I laughed, daunted by the possibility. What would Ken say to me? What would my mother?



I stretched up and read the microwave clock. It was twenty minute to four. I said to John and Lex: “I’m putting this into me, I’m gonna fuck myself on it for a little while, and then I’m going to bed.”



I will be in bed no later than 4 o’clock, I told myself. Enjoy me while you can, boys.



How I did it, I don’t know. I squirmed and I writhed, I panted and gasped, I moaned and I mewled and eventually, though shear obstinacy alone, I pushed myself back until the tip bottomed me out. I looked back, insanely rewarded, almost gloating. See there, I told my asshole and rectum, I knew you could do it. My asshole and rectum weren’t talking to me.



I didn’t become wanton. I became very heedful and restrained. I ass-fucked John at half a mile an hour, closed my eyes and opened my mouth and let my hair drag the floor; what I didn’t do was make a fool of myself. At 3:55 A.M., I unplugged myself, crawled away and had the dining room table assist me to my feet. I gazed down at John and Lex with mixed emotions: satisfaction, disbelief, pride and self-loathing. I could barely stand up. I put my hand behind me and held my bottom. I’d fucked a telephone pole.



* * *



I wasn’t taking them down, John especially. I limped into the kitchen and removed a can of Diet Coke and snapped open the lid with pitifully trembling fingers. My whole body trembled. I realized, with some consternation, how exhausted I was. I had been fucking myself since 10 o’clock last night. Oh my God, did I hurt.



I downed the can of soda in one long awkward series of gulps, and then opened another can. This one I drank only marginally slower. I opened a third, wanting one for my aching rear end. Oh, how it throbbed. Turning off the light, and the dining room light, I limped into the bedroom and went to my drawers for a pair of panties. They were blue and white and red striped, made of comfortable cotton, and decidedly modest as goes my underwear drawer. I somehow got them on and snugged into place and went back to the dining room table. I had forgotten Mike. How could I forget Mike? I was embarrassed, and ashamed. I also picked up one of the boxes of KY Personal Lubricant and took it with Mike and me into the bedroom.



My arms and legs were alarmingly noodley. Collapsing on the bed, I opened the box with Mike sitting comfortingly in my lap, removed the tube and made sure it hadn’t been tampered with. I wanted nothing to do with jelly belonging to John and Lex. I lubed Mike completely, sat him upright on the nightstand and lay down and pulled down my panties. Within moments I was purring happily with Mike up my behind, the vibrator pulsing my vagina, and my arms relaxed at me sides. I smiled dreamily at the window, drifting toward sleep. And then the damned doorbell rang.



* * *



I jerked awake and bolt upright on my hands and knees. I looked at the clock, saw that it was 4:07 AM, and then stared at my bedroom door, open-mouthed.



Not again! Had the doorbell just rang? Had I imagined it? I was mostly asleep, or in something approximating it sexually, so it could have been a dream. I looked at my bedroom window, making sure the blinds were still closed and covered by the blanket—they were—and waited with choked breath to see if would ring again. It didn’t.



Who was it, at 4:07 AM in the morning?



As if I didn’t know.



But what if it was Ken?



Panic-stricken, I leaped off the bed, expelling both the dildo and the vibrator, which I snatched desperately off the floor and jammed under the mattress. I fumbled the tube of KY, bumbling it from one hand to the other as I listened for keys in the door—thank God I had the security chain on—caught it in mid-drop and jammed it under the mattress too. It made me nearly hysterical thinking about Lex and John mounted to the kitchen doorway. I hobbled bandy-legged into the hall and down to the kitchen door and pried Lex off the jamb. Still no keys in the door, still no second doorbell ring. I stood hunched over and panting, Lex in my left hand, the head of John in my right, ready to rip him off the wall. I slowly calmed, receded from hyperventilation, felt my heart slow.



It could not be Ken. I’d talked to him even as I lay in bed at 10 o’clock lubricating the 7″ dildo. It could not be Ken. That left only one possibility.



Releasing John and placing Lex on the table, I tiptoed to the apartment door and peeked out. No one there. I looked as far down as I could through the peephole, but of course, saw nothing. There was a box out there though; I knew it. Releasing the deadbolt and turning the knob, I inched open the door for confirmation.



“What are you doing?” I demanded querulously. I listened as I had listened earlier, then eased the door closed and unfastened the chain. My hands trembled, my heart pitter-pattered in my chest, and I think I may have peed myself.



What was in the box? Only one way to know, I thought, so I opened the door, kicked the box inside and hurriedly shut the door again and locked it. Then I just stared at the box.



This was insane. My watcher had been watching me. He knew I was awake. He’d probably watched the apartment all night long, praying I’d open the blinds and perform for him. Which I had, but hadn’t let him see. Now he’d brought over Box Number 2 and left it on my stoop. Out of anger? Frustration? What if it contained a bomb. Michelle go boom. The thought sent a shiver down my spine and broke me out the goose-pimples. I backed a step away.



“Don’t be insane. He couldn’t possibly think you’d open the window and dance for him tonight, stupid. See what’s in the box.” I stepped forward again; squat down (with some difficulty) and peeled back the packing tape. Inside were three new items. I looked at the balcony curtains in consternation.



“You must be joking.”



The one item I understood. They were anal beads. A long tapering Christmas tree of plastic balls about 12″ long. The two other items mystified me. I fingered one, and then the other, and then removed them from the box, jumping a little when they straightened out. Each was 2′ long and basically a rubber sword. Long dildos with handles. And I mean long. I held up the narrower, lighter one and looked at it in astonishment.



“Is this what I think it is?” It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. But of course, it was. I began to giggle.



“No way. No way am I going to use this.” I looked at the balcony doors again and laughed. I began to shake with laughter.



He’d given me two dildos specifically designed to be put up the ass…and then worked into the colon. In fact, the one in my hand, measuring 24″ along the shaft, and another 4″ behind the guard, 28″ in all, would almost certainly do the trick. The shaft was no larger around than a normal size cock, and smaller than any of my dildos. It could possibly work. The other one, forget it. It was large and convoluted and for show only. I laughed, imagining it protruding from me like a tail, being wagged. The image sent an erotic shiver down my spine. The fourth item in the box was an enema kit.



“Okay, now this is sick.” I held up the box and read the pieces Included:



-Hanging Tab



-Hook



-Bottle



-Stopper



-Douche Pipe



-Enema Pipe



-Pipe Adapter



-Shut-Off Clamp



-Tubing



-Adapter Cap



It was just like the one I had in the closet.



“You motherfucker,” I muttered uneasily. “How do you know me so well?” I looked at the balcony curtains again. I looked toward my bedroom again. “I can tell you this: I am never opening my blinds again.”



I dropped the carton into the box, returned the two swords and the purple Christmas tree, added Lex and the jar of KY, and then dismounted John from the jam. I placed him rather reverentially into the box, and then dropped in the belt. I retrieved Mike from under the mattress and dropped him in too. The other box I cut into pieces with a steak knife, put them in the box also, and then carried the full box into the bedroom and hid it in the back of my closet. I had every intention of dropping the box into the dumpster tonight. I ritualistically brushed my hands and was done with it. I then went into the bathroom to wash my hands and then I returned to bed, and to Edward and my vibrator Jacob.



* * *



I awoke at 6:18 A.M. I was on my tummy, with Edward tucked tightly into my butt. Jacob I had abandoned before I went to sleep. Rigid, pointed vibrators are nothing to fall asleep with. I groaned and looked at the clock, and then at my bedroom door, and then at the safely cloaked window. Had I heard something? Probably just one of the neighbors moving around. Regardless, disgruntled and muttering, I climbed out of bed and crept to the front door, holding Edward in place with my hand. My panties rode up and down as I walked, slowly working themselves down beneath my butt cheeks. I let them. At the peephole I gazed out, saw no one, and cracked the door. No box, either. I sighed, closed and relocked the door, and tehn returned to the bedroom, detouring for a not so quick pee. My insides were still screwed up.



The sun was not quite up and the bedroom darker than usual because of the window treatment. I was not refreshed by the short catnap, but I was newly horny, and wanted Jacob back in me again. I laid down and slipped him under my panties and his cold metal point against my clitoris and turned him on. He drove me almost instantly crazy. I gasped and twisted onto my side, scrunching up, curling my toes and locking my teeth together. Sometimes I hit myself just right, and this time I did. I moaned loudly and with my left hand inched Edward in and out of my asshole. He felt twice his normal size. I ached inside like a toothache and didn’t care. It occurred to me I should take something for it. I wouldn’t until later. I was done getting off the bed and I eventually fell asleep.

Ken called at noon and woke me up.



“Hi,” I said sleepily, searching blindly beneath the covers for Jacob and setting him on the nightstand. Edward was still up my butt, still enjoying and keeping me company. I tucked him in tight and lay on my back to keep him there. “What are you doing?” I could hear voices in the background.



“Did I wake you up?”



“No,” I lied. “I’m up.”



“Up to what? Enjoying yourself?” He suspected I’d had a late night.



“I’m laying in the bath, enjoying my bubbles.”



“Splash,” he said. “I want to hear it.”



“OK. I lied. You woke me up.”



He laughed, making my face turn red. I told Edward to hush up.



“What time did you go to bed?”



“I stayed up late watching movies.”



“Um-hum. Don’t make yourself too sore. I want you ready when I get home.”



“Stop it,” I said. “You’re embarrassing me.”



He laughed again. “You are alone, right?”



“I’m with Edward,” I said truthfully, “and Jacob. They’re keeping me company.”



“I won’t come home to find you six months pregnant, will I?”



“It happened to Bella,” I pointed out. “But you don’t have to worry; Edward’s been enjoying me anally.”



“Fucking lucky vampire. Jacob gonna bless you with a litter of puppies?”



“I don’t think wolves have litters, and they’re called pups, not puppies. Besides, I’m on birth control,” I reminded him.



“Good luck there. The reason I called was…”



We talked another fifteen minutes, said we loved each other and then we hung up. I checked to see if Jacob had any charge left. He was completely dead; he had given his last. I opened the bedside drawer and searched futilely for AA batteries. I gave up and lay on my back again. Then I flipped over and slipped a pillow under my hips and spread my legs and pulled my panties down below Edward’s shaft and played carefully with the base, slowly easing him in and out of me. I was careful, yet still found myself raising my rear into the air and fucking myself harder. I let him go and slipped two fingers into my hole and used the other middle finger on my clit, torturing myself. I became more and more aroused, more and more needy, cursing myself for the lack of batteries, but still not getting out of bed. I used Jacob to fuck myself without the special effects. And then the phone rang again and it was Mom.



* * *



I finally got up at three, took a long bath and washed my hair. I made a salad and had a tuna fish salad sandwich. I watched TV a while, then went to the store for milk and cigarettes. I don’t smoke, but I hadn’t quit all that long ago and needed their moral support today. I also picked up a six-pack of wine coolers because all we had in the house was beer, and I don’t really like beer. I also bought a package of Trojan ribbed condoms. Ken and I don’t use condoms.



Back home, I set the pack of condoms on the dining room table, sat down in the chair, clasped my hands and sat my chin on them and stared at the package.



“What are you doing?” I asked myself. I had never cheated on Ken and had never wanted to.



“Being prudent?”



“Being stupid,” I countered. “You will not go down that road. I won’t allow it.” I raised my head and jabbed a finger at the pack. “Get rid of those things, right now.”



I shook my head.



“What do you mean no? Are you insane?”



“Nothing’s going to happen,” I scoffed. I looked at the bedroom door, longingly. I wanted Edward and Jacob, batteries included this time. I didn’t care how sore I was. I also knew I wouldn’t make any trips to the dumpster today. It was everything I could do to leave the box in the closet.



I solved the problem and went to a movie. Then I went to another movie at another theater and used up another two hours. Then I went to Rite Aid and stood in front of a Blockbuster machine for 20 minutes not picking a movie. Finally I went home and by then it was ten minutes to eight, but not late enough to get started. I went into the bedroom, took off my clothes, put on the blue nightie and sat Edward and Jacob side by side on the nightstand. I smiled at them affectionately.



“You have to be easy on me,” I said. “I’m really sore.”



“We’ll be so gentle,” they promised. “What about Lex and John and Mike and your new friends?” Jacob asked.



I blushed bright red. “You didn’t need to bring them up,” I muttered, looking at the closet.



“Why not try something else on tonight,” Edward suggested. “Something more see through and sexy. I’m tired of the same old red and blue nighties, aren’t you, Jacob?”



Jacob agreed enthusiastically. “How about that black lace baby-doll with matching panties?”



I blushed bright red again. It was the most see-through thing I owned, a ridiculously skimoy outfit that hid nothing except my nipples and my crack. It did this by virtue of three stitched on pink roses. Which Ken thought were adorable and I thought appalling. Ken bought me the outfit however, and I didn’t complain. At least verbally.



“I’m not putting that on,” I muttered.



“Why not? You look delectable in it.”



“Because I know what you’re doing, and I’m not going along with it.”



Jacob snorted. “Being sexy is wrong?”



“It is when the end result is what you’re thinking.”



“I’m not thinking anything. Are you, Edward?”



Edward shook his nicely shaped head. “I just like my date hot as she can be, that’s all.”



“So I’m your date now,” I said wryly.



“Mine too,” Jacob reminded me. I remembered them both in bed with me last night and this morning—well, multiple times this morning, and smiled and blushed again. My double-date, my friends with benefits. Of course, I was the benefit. I liked being the benefit.



“You don’t like John and Lex very much,” Jacob observed.



I shook my head in discomfort. “Not much. They really took advantage of me last night.”



“It was difficult for us to hear,” Jacob said. “Edward commented that it wasn’t much different than being raped, what they did to you.”



My face got flaming hot. “You heard?”



“It was hard not to hear. You were only next door, Michelle.”



“In the kitchen doorway,” I remembered. “I’m sorry. I never considered that. It must have been very rough on you guys.”



“Not as rough as on you,” Edward commented dryly. “The only one who treated you with respect was Mike.”



Smiling, blushing again a little, I nodded. “I do like Mike. Actually, Mike’s his middle name. His first name is Emmett.”



“My older brother, I know,” Edward said. “I didn’t want to bring that up.”



“Why not?” I asked, grinning. “Embarrassed by his muscular build?”



“Something like that.” Edward cleared his throat. “Anyway, Emmett is welcome any time. We’d love sometime to have a foursome with you.”



I giggled girlishly. “You mean, plug all my holes?”



“I wasn’t being crude.”



“I was,” I teased. “Who gets me where?”



Jacob laughed while Edward shook his head disapprovingly. Jacob said: “If you truly want to be plugged, then I should enjoy your rear end while Edward employs your mouth and Emmett takes my place in your vagina. I think that makes best use of your available holes. As far as properly plugging you goes.”



My entire insides, breasts and nipples included, tingled. “I’ve never been air tight before,” I whispered.



Jacob’s suggestion made sense. I would enjoy Jacob up my rear end and Emmett’s muscular shaft would certainly fill my vagina. Edward was sufficiently large to fill my mouth, if not quite like Lex did. Reaching a decision, I said: “I’m all for it. Let’s go.”



I freed Emmett from closet confinement, ignoring the objections of the others, and carried all three of my lovers into the bathroom. All three enjoyed a thorough bathing with soap and water. Emmett tried to impress me with his muscular build, but was shouted down by an indignant Edward and Jacob.



“Don’t make me go canine on your ass,” Jacob warned, to which Emmett retorted: “Try it. You’d look good up your wolf girlfriend’s ass,” to which I cried indignantly, “Wait a minute! Wouldn’t that be me?”



“Problem solved,” Emmett responded smugly.



“Smart ass.” I held him beneath the faucet until he sputtered for breath, and got an apology. I wondered if I wasn’t taking this role-play business a bit too far. All three of them laughed at me.



If the dildo fits, hon…



Laughing, I took all four of us into the bedroom and dutifully changed out of the blue nightie and into Jacob’s baby-doll. I felt particularly foolish, but they certainly liked it. Looking in the mirror I did not see a Victoria’s Secret model, or even one from JC Penney. Maybe Frederick’s of Hollywood, I thought, turning this way and that. Emmett pretended to pat my ass. Jacob growled again and Edward tisk-tisked. Oh, you boys, I thought. It was exactly 9 o’clock.



I had told Jacob the truth: I had never been airtight before. I’d once been with two guys at once, and had made love to myself many times with Edward and Jacob, and with other lovers before them, but I had never had something in all three openings at once. It wasn’t easy, accommodating all three. I was perfectly used to Edward and Jacob, but Jacob usually enjoyed my vagina and Edward my rectum. Tonight Jacob purred happily away in my ass, while Emmett flexed my muscles with his muscle, and Edward played hide and seek with my mouth. Of the three, Edward was the hardest to familiarize myself with. He certainly enjoyed my efforts though. What I lacked in style, I made up for in effort.



This went on for half an hour before Jacob made a suggestion.



“As much as I enjoy your tight little rectum, and believe me, I do love it, Michelle, I miss my home.”



I released Edward and panted a moment before answering. “Sorry, you know I can’t do that, Jacob.” As much as I wanted him, I refused to put my rear end up my vagina. The few times it’d happened in the past, I worried endlessly about infections and possible damage to my insides, especially my fallopian tubes, which I knew were susceptible to scarring from runaway infections. And it was too disruptive to my lovemaking to get out of bed and wash one or the other to put in my vagina. Besides, I’d only want one or the other to have me vaginally, so Emmett was staying in my ass, and Jacob in my vagina.



“We have condoms,” Jacob reminded me.



I wanted to smack my forehead. Of course I did! I had just bought a box.



“Where are they? I asked.



“On the dining room table,” Edward said.



I groaned. “Will you get them?”



Edward laughed at me. So did the others. I gazed longingly at the bedroom door, mentally lifting the condoms and levitating them into my hand. They didn’t come.



“I don’t want to get up,” I whined.



“No pain, no gain, Michelle.”



Sighing. I got off my knees, keeping Jacob and Emmett in place with my fingertips, and hobbled out to the dining room to the table. It occurred to me that I hand no free hand to pick up the box. I bent down and clumsily tried to snag the box between my chin and chest, then bit into it when that didn’t work. I hobbled back to the bedroom to the bed and dropped the box. All three laughed at me again.



“Fine,” I grumbled, “laugh.” I mimicked them like a 14 year old, then retook my position on the bed, and opened the box. It occurred to me I should ask Emmett his thoughts on this.



He laughed. “As much as I love your cooze,” he said, “I live for your rectum and your tight little asshole. I can’t believe Jacob wants to give it up.”



I was surprised at that myself. I was enjoying the devil out of Jacob. “Are you sure about this?” He was, and I slid him reluctantly out and wrapped him safely in a condom. Returning Emmett to his location of choice, I slid Jacob home and sighed contentedly and relaxed every muscle in my body. Edward, I placed between my breasts and laid my arms out alongside my body. I spent half an hour like this, just enjoying the fullness in my butt, reluctantly admitting that Emmett impressed me with his big muscle. Edward accepted this with admirable stoicism.



“I still love you best,” I promised him. Emmett, as wonderful as he was, had to earn my love and respect and that didn’t come overnight.



At 10:30, Jacob asked the question: “You want to do it, don’t you?”



I played dumb.



“You know what I mean.”



“I’m afraid I don’t,” I lied. My eyes went straight toward the closet door.



“We wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Jacob said.



I vacillated, biting my lower lip. It would mean taking Emmett out and I didn’t want that. And it scared the shit out of me, the thought of doing that to myself. Then I remembered something.



“Did any of you guys see a note?”



“A note?” Jacob asked.



Both Edward and Emmett shook their heads.



“I didn’t either. He left a note last time.” I wondered if I had missed it. There was crumpled paper in the box as packing, and I had missed the boxes of KY in the first box. I could have missed one in the second too. I was suddenly intrigued. Were there videos on xHamster showing the snakes in action? I shivered at the idea. Oh boy, I thought: I’m in trouble.



“Excuse me boys, I need to check this out.”



I took them with me, of course, Edward included, tucked under my arm. In the closet I knelt and placed my left heel beneath me to keep Emmett inside and placed Edward in my lap. Dragging out the box, I lifted the flaps and rooted around inside. Without meaning to I removed both snakes and set them on the floor, and then the enema kit too, and then the purple Christmas tree. I found the note between two clumps of paper and searched the rest of the paper thoroughly. I found nothing else. I closed the box and put it back, no one commenting that I’d not returned the snakes or the tree or the enema kit. I gathered them all—somehow—and returned to the bed. I apologized for removing Emmett and Jacob to sit down.



“Don’t even think about sitting on me,” Emmett warned. “I don’t want that on my conscience.” They watched with interest as I rubbed my nose and read the note. This one was personal.



“Dear Michelle…” So he know my name after all. Not that surprising. “…don’t take offense, but I thought you might enjoy the enclosed three items. Based upon what I’ve seen you do—” I winced. “—my guess is that you’ll enjoy all six items I’ve left you tonight. I apologize for the shock my first box must have caused. I guessed ahead of time that you would clam up and batten down, which you did. I don’t blame you one bit. My one regret is that I just ruined the best experience of my life. I’ve watched you three months now, and I don’t expect to watch you any more. I ensure your safety by exposing your vulnerability. The things you do in the dark are not necessarily private in front of an open window. That said, thank you for letting me watch. Your Secret Admirer.”



As a postscript, he listed two website addresses, the same as before. Both were on xHamster. Grabbing my laptop, I keyed in the first, doing it quickly to keep from considering the note. In a way, I was touched. Horrified, but touched.



The first video featured the more muscular anal sword. A surprisingly cute redhead, Vanda, impaling herself anally. She had her own website, advertised at the bottom of the screen. The name of the video was Amateur hardcore anal toys.



The beginning of the video, the first five minutes, was perhaps the most intensely erotic bit of film I’d ever seen. On her knees in a white lace top and admittedly horrible backless pantyhose, Vanda put a slightly shorter version of my own muscular sword up her ass and wagged it enticingly at the camera. She was very nearly my own shape and size (maybe a bit bigger breast-wise), but otherwise my online twin. I moaned as she removed the sword and put it in her mouth. She did this time and again, and in every other one of her videos that I watched. (There were many.) She offered her asshole and rectum as a personal playground for her dildos. It simultaneously numbed and inflamed me. And she did exactly what I won’t do, going repeatedly from her asshole to her vagina with multiple dildos. She completely scandalized me there. Shaken, but now craving my muscular sword, I typed in the second address and this blew my mind.



The girl, a bleach-blond with frizzy hair and terribly fake breasts, took the entire length of my smaller sword up her ass. Every single inch of it. The man impaling her forced even the guard past her asshole and then the handle, until only the hub remained visible. And then he pushed even that little nub into her rectum with the tip of his finger. I stared, dumfounded and apalled, aghast. That couldn’t be! It had to be fake. A special effect. Yet I watched the sequence four or five times, and never saw a cut, nor a blur, or an overlap, or any other sign of trick photography. Not that it was easy. Every time the man forced the head of the dildo into her colon, she flinched or cried out softly, or grabbed something close by–bed-sheets, his arm, the shaft of the sword, the edge of the mattress….the penetration was painful. I watched her face in awe when the man put her on her back and made her hold her knees as he force fucked her time a an incredible 66 times. Four times he made the sword disappear entirely inside her and then made her go in to retrieve it with her fingertips, or force it out otherwise. I was appalled. I finally slammed the lid closed and shoved the laptop away, shivering.



“I won’t do that!” I protested indignantly. Of course, I did.



* * *



Ten minutes later, on my knees in the bathroom, white tube inserted up my behind, two quarts of cold water waiting impatiently above me, my fingers on the shut-off clamp, continuously trembling, I released the water and felt it gush from the nozzle into my rectum. It was the douche nozzle I used, not the one for enemas. The douche nozzle was so much longer and thicker, not to mention ridged. “Oh my God,” I moaned and dropped to my elbows and crossed my forearms compliantly. Cold invaded my insides, rushed downward heading for my belly. I could feel every ripple of it, every surge. The instructions told you specifically not to use cold water. It was my admirer’s kit, not my own.



“That looks like fun,” Jacob quipped.



“You should try it!” I gasped. Shivers ran up and down my spine and erupted my chest and arms into goose pimples. My nipples grew achingly hard, and I had a clitoral erection that if I was a man, would be a massive, aching hard-on.



Slowly the water pressure eased, and then came finally to a halt. I looked up and saw the bag was empty. I felt bloated like after Thanksgiving dinner. I placed my hand against my lower belly and giggled. I lowered myself into the submissive position drawn on the box and waited for the revolt. It would come fast, with icy water. I was already feeling cramps.



“Hold it as long as you can,” I told myself.



“Hold it until you ache,” Emmett said cheerily. It occurred to me I could have him or Jacob or Edward up my cooze right now, as Emmett called it. All three volunteered immediately.



“Sorry, I can’t move.” It was everything I could do not to scramble for the toilet. The boys understood, and were plenty happy anyway, enjoying my increasing discomfort. I looked at the reproachfully, lined up along the sink to watch. “Don’t you have something better to do?”. Jacob said no as the other two shook their heads. “Men,” I grumbled unhappily. Then I grimaced with a particularly agonizing spasm and allowed static pressure to expel the white nozzle. Any moment now.



“Oh my God!” I gasped. All three broke out in humiliating laughter as I scuttled frantically for the toilet and climbed on, holding myself desperately. The instant I hit, water exploded into the bowl and we won’t talk about what it looked or smelled like. I sat mortified and helpless, hands on my cramping belly as my bowels emptied explosively. I had leaked a lot of water onto the floor, more than I had realized, and I looked at it sourly. The boys continued to hoot and holler.

“Do you mind? It’s humiliating enough as it is!” They only laughed harder.



At 11:35 I got off the pot, waited hesitatingly a moment, then sat back down and waited out a last cramp. Then I disposed of the soiled towel on the floor and replaced it with a fresh one. I made a dash back to the toilet again before refilling the enema bag with 2 new quarts of water. I’d probably settle for twice tonight, I thought, not being into self-torture. Twenty minutes later, I found myself refilling the bag with quarts number 5 and 6, and then sending them down the tube and into my waiting rectum. I sighed as the water rushed through my intestines, cramping them.



At 12:15 AM, I scoured the enema tube with soapy water, hung the bag on the shower curtain with the tube in the tub to drain, and picked up the 3rd, mostly dry towel, throwing it in the tub with the others. I left the set-up there in case circumstances dictated I needed one more. The thought caused me mixed emotions. There wasn’t anything quite like an embarrassing enema to put a girl in her place. And the boys had certainly liked it. They wouldn’t object to another, I knew. Emmett especially enjoyed the gurgling sound of the water.



“Okay,” I said. The boys watched from the nightstand as I contemplated the two dildos on the bed. I was exceedingly nervous. I had already determined that I’d wag my tail first with the thicker, busier sword, just for the devious pleasure of it, and then get down to business with the one from the video. With a shudder I imagined myself making the handle disappear inside me, and then digging it out again with my fingertips, or expelling it manually, like the girl had onscreen. I decided that was an experience I wouldn’t attempt. And I didn’t. Not by myself, anyway.



“I’m not naming them,” I said. “These are just tools. Tools to stick up my ass and enjoy myself with. They are not my friends.”



Jacob thought this wise. “Keep it impersonal, Michelle.”



Emmett snickered.



“What?” I demanded uneasily.



Emmett said straight-faced: “Impersonal. I should get impersonal treatment like that every night. But then, maybe I will,” he added, snickering again.



I shook my finger at him. “I have a garbage disposal with your name on in, buster. Be careful.” This got a hoot of approval from the others.



I looked from the bed to the window, fighting the irrational impulse to remove the blanket and open the blinds. That was insanity. I might as well soak myself in gasoline and immolate myself in bed. Why would I want to show myself off to him?



For the same reason you open the blinds in the first place, that persnickety voice spouted off.



Oh, shut up, I thought back sourly. I need to open the blinds. Don’t you think?



And why is that? she demanded.



Because this guy went to a lot of effort for me and cares enough to cut off his nose to spite his face. And besides, he obviously likes me a lot. And like it or not, I think I like him. Or I’m obsessed by him, I’m not sure which.



It occurred to me the voice in my head sounded suspiciously like that of Jacob. I eyed him suspiciously, but his expression responded, What, too innocently. Berating myself, I rounded the bed and stood beside the window. I fingered the blanket aside and peeked out. The building across the way was half-dark, half-lit, about what you’d expect at 12:30 AM on a Sunday morning. One apartment in my line of sight was jammed with partiers; another had every light on and every window open, but not a soul in sight. I stared at the six apartments I most strongly suspected. Six bedroom windows, six wide balcony doors, and three den windows. The other three faced away from me by virtue of mirror image floor plans. Right now, I thought, someone could be watching me with night vision glasses. The thought made me shiver.



“Should I?” I asked. Two yeses and a no. Jacob, of course. I peeked back out the window and said, “The top apartment on the left is completely dark. The one under it has lights behind each window, but the blinds or curtains are drawn. The bottom floor apartment is dark except the bedroom window.” I described the flip-side apartments, the top one jammed with partiers, the apartment below that with the lights on and windows open, and the bottom apartment completely dark. The final three, least likely apartments I described only for constancy.



“What are you gonna do?” Emmett asked. I pulled down the blanket in answer.



* * *



I wagged my tail, laughing giddily. The thick burly sword, protruding from me a good 12″, swung obediently back and forth.



“This is so cool,” I told the guys. It aggravated me that I could have done this last night, with Lex or with John—or both. I could imagine the sight of John protruding his huge, droopy rear end from my bottom, or Lex’s not so massive one. Of course, it wouldn’t have been in front of an open window, like I was now.



In 20 minutes things had changed. The middle left apartment was now completely dark, as was the one below it, and people had appeared in the Rear Window apartment on the other side. The party raged on in the apartment above, full intensity and a light had come on in the bottom floor bedroom window; as I watched one came on behind the balcony curtains. It didn’t surprise me, with all the hubbub two floors above. Griming, I wagged my tail again.



Jacob said: “I see no reason I couldn’t enjoy your vagina while you amuse yourself.” Edward suggested the same for my mouth. Though it was an interesting concept, right now I just wanted to wag my tail. Emmett thought that an excellent idea, though he wondered when I’d get to my challenge.



“Maybe never,” I told him. “I’m enjoying this too much.” As far as it went, true, but I lived for my sexual challenge. Just ask Lex or John. And wagging my tail did quickly sate my curiosity. I sighed, knowing I was simply procrastinating.



The Christmas tree held no interest for me at all. I wanted the snake up me (yes, I am aware of the pun) and at ten minutes after one retired my muscular doggy tail. Excitement had rekindled itself and my hands trembled with anxiety as I removed the dildo (I wanted to name him, but still wouldn’t) from the nightstand and held it nervously. How would I do this? The question had bothered me before. Obviously, trying to accomplish it doggie style wouldn’t work. My arms weren’t long enough. I suspected the only way it could be accomplished was on my back, with my legs back like the girl in the video. That idea embarrassed me for some reason. (As if none of this was embarrassing, right?) The worst of it was, how I wanted to arrange myself on the bed.



That is simply stupid, I told myself. I envisioned myself through the open bedroom window, laying crosswise on my bed, looking out the window down the length of my body, legs pulled back and out of the way as I attempted to penetrate my colon. All of this for the entertainment of my friend across the way with his binoculars or telescope, or whatever he had. If it was powerful enough, he could examine my widespread genitals up close. They’d be a perfect offering, though his attention might be distracted by the goings on below. Since he had given me the snake, I’m sure it would.



For the first time, it occurred to me that my presumption of maleness might be wrong. Could it be a girl? Had I attracted a lesbian? The idea made me grin. I found myself grinning at the window. That would be quite a surprise.



I applied an appropriate amount of KY to my fingertips and lubed the forward half of the shaft, and then laid back, raised my legs into perfect missionary position and thoroughly lubed myself. I grinned, imagining the excitement at the far end of the telescope. I imagined telescopes could be just as infrared sensing as binoculars. Trembling all over and heart beating like that of a race horse, I located my anus with the head of the snake, eased it in, and began to fill myself. The going was easy, after John and Lex and Emmett and Edward and Jacob. (Actually, Jacob was smaller than the snake.). It took only a moment to bottom myself out.



“Okay, guys…the moment of truth.”



Did I have the courage to attempt this, I wondered? This was dangerous, video excepted, What I was doing could perforate me, punch a hole right through my bowels. Then again, the guy on the video had penetrated the girl’s colon dozens of times, and this was an anal snake I was holding. I giggled, knowing that I held it at both ends, one with my hand, the other with my rectum. Taking a deep breath, telling the guys, “Wish me luck,” I probed myself experimentally.



Ow, that hurts. But then, I was sore anyway. I probed again, pulling the sword to the right, knowing my sigmoid colon went off to the right. 90 degrees to the right, I reminded myself anxiously. How could—



“Ung, God!” I yelped. That really hurt! Panting, I eased back and let my spine fall out of the arch it had taken. Had the head just…that quickly? I didn’t think so. I relaxed, making myself breath again. The pain receded quickly, telling me I hadn’t down any permanent damage. I think I might actually have pushed the head into my colon a bit. I had felt it go pop, and the girl onscreen had reacted just the way I did when the head went pop in her, including the grimace and spine-arch. With a giddy feeling, I knew I had done it. I did it again, grinning at the window triumphantly.



Where are you? I thought. Are you watching me now, are you at your telescope? Still grinning, very excited now–embarrassingly excited—I tested the concept that I was indeed inside myself (exactly how I considered it), easing the dildo farther in a bit at a time until I knew I was actually fucking my colon. I pulled it in and out, turning concept into reality. Though still painful, the discomfort was bearable and overwhelmed by the shear excitement of what I was doing to myself. Raisng my head and looking down, I confirmed that more than half the shaft was up my bottom. I was 14″ deep inside myself, and obviously able to take more. Exultantly, I searched the windows across the way, wanting to share this moment.



A light flashed.



I blinked, startled. Had I actually just seen that? Propping myself on my elbows, I concentrated on where I thought the flash had been: the window of the far left, top floor apartment. The light flashed again and I reacted exactly as you would expect I would.



Shrieking wildly, I twisted sideways and rolled off the bed.



* * *



I felt like a fool. A totally, idiotic, moronic fool.



“What the fuck were you doing?” I screamed softly, punching the wall hard enough to bruise my knuckles. I yanked back my hand and cursed softly as I held it between my left biceps and side. I kicked the foul length of rubber across the room and then kicked the wall with my heel, hurting that also. Cursing louder, I limped back and forth in a circle.



The guy had seen me, signaled me. I fought panic, resisting the urge to go hide in the closet. I peeked out the window, wondering if he could see my wide and frightened eye at a distance. I wondered if my pupil was dilated from fear. My arteries certainly were, judging the amount of blood I felt pumping through my body. I found myself pressed against the wall, terrified.



Just calm down, that voice said. You knew he was out there. You guessed, even hoped for him to be out there watching you. What’s the big deal?



I shrieked at her in disbelief: Are you insane! Do you realize the guy just watched me fucking myself with a 2′ long dildo? I peeked out the window again, breathless, nearly hyperventilating. No change at the bedroom window.



The light had been a flashlight. I was sure of that. He’d seen me searching the apartment building windows as I fucked myself and flashed once to locate himself. As I had stared at the window open-mouthed and startled, he flashed it again, to confirm my choice. I had panicked like a rabbit.



Of course I had panicked like a rabbit. Who wouldn’t?



I moaned, wanting to just die. What if he knocked on the door? I moaned, imagining my humiliation then. I looked out the window again, this time easing over the blind for a better view. The light flashed again and this time I didn’t panic. Instead, I shivered convulsively but continued to watch, to see what he’d do next. The light came on and swung side to side, before going out again.



What was that? I realized suddenly and waved back. The flashlight lit again and waved in response. And then I did the stupidest thing any woman could have done in my position: I beckoned him over.



* * *



My caller knocked softly. Shivering, I placed my eye to the peephole and looked out. He made no attempt to conceal himself, looking instead directly at the peephole from a distance of 2′. I stepped back, my heart in my throat. I couldn’t swallow. I could barely stand up. Holding my robe closed at my throat, I slid off the safety chain, twisted back the deadlock and opened the door. Petrified, I held it open for him to enter.



“Are you sure of this?” he asked nervously, almost timidly. He was very handsome, a light-skinned black man with a crown of neatly-trimmed, almost to the scalp black hair. He looked as uncertain about this as I did. I gulped and nodded. He moved forward and awkwardly slipped by and into the foyer. I shut the door, but left it unbolted and unchained. He stood three feet away, hunch-shouldered with his hands in his pockets. His anxiety made me feel better.



“I’m Michelle,” I offered in a wavering voice.



He hesitantly named himself Michael.



I motioned to step down into the living room. He eyed my powder blue couch, loveseat and chair as possible instruments of torture. I remembered barking my shin on the coffee table last night and winced in memory. Luckily, he didn’t see this.



“Would you like something to drink?”



“What do you have?” he asked distractedly. Then he apologized, noting he was a bit on the tense side.



“You’re nervous?” I said, laughing. “Imagine how I feel.”



He smiled for the first time, and I swear, I fell instantly in love.



In a cracked voice, I listed his choices: “I have a six-pack of wine coolers, Heineken in bottles, Diet or regular Coke—although I think we might be out of Coke—tea and bottled water. Dasani, ” I added as a nervous afterthought. I told my hand to relax and let go of my robe, but it refused.



He replied quickly, without giving it any real thought: “Diet Coke would be fine.” He stopped in front of the blue chair but didn’t sit down. I wanted a beer or one of those damned wine coolers; anything to calm me down. I suddenly remembered the condition of the bathroom and wanted to die.



“Can you excuse me a moment?”



Startled, he nodded as I beelined for the bathroom and shut myself in. As quietly as possible, I stuffed the contents of the enema kit back in the box, tossed it under the sink, and grabbed the soiled towels out of the tub. I looked around, wondering what to do with them. Finally, I stuffed them beneath the sink as well, praying he wouldn’t have reason to look under there. Then I sat down to go pee.



He was sitting down at least. On the edge of the seat to be true, with his hands nervously on his knees, but he hadn’t fled upon my unexpected flight. I smiled timidly and went into the kitchen for his Diet Coke.



“Would you like a glass?” I called.



I sensed him shake his head as he answered and smiled. This could be so much worse. He could be my neighbor from across the hall, Ted, a displaced cowpoke from Montana. He wanted to bust me like a bronc. I knew that, because he’d told me so one night at a party. I’d kept that a secret between him and I.



Ignoring his answer, I removed two glasses from the cabinet, hall-filled both with ice at the refrigerator door, and then filled both from one can of Diet Coke. Already, we were sharing. Feeling somewhat less than stressed to max, I carried the glasses out to the living room and offered him one. He took it gratefully and I sat down, across the room on the edge of the couch.



“Can I just be straightforward?” I asked. He nodded uncomfortably and I asked: “How long have you been watching me?”



He’d been expecting the question.



“About three months. Since the middle of August when my girlfriend and I broke up.”



I couldn’t help but smile. “Was that before…or after you started watching me?”



He smile beautifully again. “Her leaving had nothing to do with you, Michelle.”



I nodded, relieved despite the question’s nonsensicality. I also liked that he used my name. And then I saw him frown and followed his gaze to my left hand. His disappointment at the sight of my rings was almost comical, and touching.



“I’m married,” I confirmed. “His name is Ken.” Then I remembered he knew my name from the note, and probably knew Ken’s also. “How do you know my name?” I asked, wishing immediately I hadn’t. “Never mind. I guess it’s not that hard to learn a person’s name anymore, is it?”



He still looked embarrassed. “I did a reverse lookup. The listing noted Ken Morrison and Michelle Jones as the occupants. I guessed you were Michelle.”



I laughed at his joke. “I figured it was something like that. I’m surprised they got the listing wrong though. I was Michelle Morrison when we moved here in May.” It saddened him, appropriately or not, that I was married.



“I’ve never cheated on Ken,” I said. “I’m not starting now.”



He nodded, looking down at his glass. His expression was most definitely sorrowful. It made me regret my harsh, probably unnecessary words. I had the feeling he’d come with the idea of simply introducing himself, meeting me finally, rather than with any expectations of sex. I cleared my throat.



“Will you tell me about it? How you started watching me?”



It was a simple enough story. His girlfriend of three years—Michelle and white also, coincidentally–had left in mid-August, breaking it off—she said—because of his laid back nature and lack of impulsiveness.



“I wasn’t wild enough,” he admitted. “She said I was more Ward Cleaver than Eldridge Cleaver in bed. Though I suspect she had to Google to get that comparison. She wasn’t the world’s foremost fortune cookie, if you know what I mean.”



“Was she pretty?” I asked candidly.



“Very. Not in a June Cleaver way, either.” He laughed. “I never understood what she saw in me to begin with.” I did, though I wasn’t admitting it. “We met at an off-campus party our senior year at Maryland and she liked how I danced. She attributed it to my half-blackness,” he said, grinning. I grinned back, acknowledging the touchy point. “I told her dancing wasn’t the only thing I did like a black man, and she went home with me that night.”



“And stayed with you three years,” I offered, when he colored attractively. “She liked you well enough to do that. What did she look like?” I asked.



He stirred, uncomfortably.



“Like me?” I guessed.



He nodded. “Strictly coincidence. I wasn’t looking for a Michelle replacement.” He colored again at his fax pas. I colored also.



“Um…more Diet Coke?” I asked distractedly.



He nodded and gulped down the remainder of his glass quickly. “Thank you,” he said as I took both glasses into the kitchen and added more ice, then Diet Coke.



“So, how did you happen to pick me?” I asked, silently cursing the poor choice of words. Make him more uncomfortable than he already is, I thought.



From the living room he answered: “Actually, I had noticed you before that. Michelle had, actually. She commented you looked like her twin sister, Beth. She’s not your twin sister, is she?” he joked.



“Not unless I’m adopted.” I had no brothers or sisters, much less an evil twin. Besides, I gathered she was older than myself, probably 25 or so. I asked his age.



“27. How old are you?”



22, I told him. “Michelle is 25?”



He nodded at my guess as I handed him his refilled glass. He sipped at it appreciatively. “I served two years in the Army before washing out on a medical discharge.” He pointed at his back. “Spinal injury. Suffered when my Humvee capsized during a training exercise. I went to college on the GI Bill. That’s why Michelle and I were both seniors.

For my fans: You’ll notice no number on this story, and that it’s in the Toys & Masturbation category. The reason for this is that it’s just me & my prostate right now, not in the past. The general tone of the story is pretty sad, but it improves, much like life.









Times have changed. I’m 40, unemployed, and living with a family member since the wife left. Hell, my dog even died. I’d say I’m living a country song, except I still have my truck (who knows for how much longer). To top it off, due to hard living, I can barely get it up anymore.



I decided to masturbate today. No big surprise, I try every day. Yesterday, I gave up after 2 hours & a sore wrist. I broke open the old toy chest, and thought I’d see what toy I’d try. Used the silver bullet yesterday, so I’d try something different. Here we go…the probe. My ex’s favorite. I used to use it on her clit while I’d eat her & finger her g spot. Made her squirt. Good times.



Today, it’s going to be used for the original purpose. It’s an odd toy – big handle, thin neck, and on the end it has a bulb about 7/8 of an inch by 3 inches. I squeezed on a bit of KY, and began to massage my hole. On the laptop, an internet porn of Tory Lane & another girl naked & fighting. Nice.



Slowly I started pushing on the probe. My ass resisted a bit and then relented. Got the bulb in, and a bit of neck. Vibrating slow…I love that feeling, when my butthole gives in, and the toy slowly slides in. It’s seems to want to stop there today. No big deal. It feels nice where it is. My dick is now in semi hardness, sadly where it usually is for my masturbation sessions.



Last week, I managed to cum, or what passes for it. The silver bullet (7 by 1 inch) got my prostate just right, and I squirted. Not a big orgasmic rush, but a relief. Today I want to cum hard. I need it. I’m backed up here.



As I watch the porn, the girls are done fighting. The designated dick is wearing torn jeans, and is shoving two fingers in each greasy girl’s ass. This is damn good. I need to save a copy of this one. The probe is vibrating, and I’m feeling into it. I reach back, and turn it up. That’s good. Feel into it. As I change positions, my heel catches the base of the probe. Whoa Nellie, that’s good. My cock surges a bit closer to hard.



I try pushing the base with my heel. It goes in further and hits the prostate in a way that’s pure dynamite and the flag slowly raises under my stroking hand. Oh, how I’ve missed you old friend. I stoke slowly, buzzing directly on the magic button. I don’t want to cum. I don’t want to stop, but I need more. I feel incredibly good. But my ass is hungry. Reach into the toy chest, still open next to the bed. Rummaging around, sight unseen, out comes the silver bullet.



A little KY, and a quick swap. I feel good, but the pressure isn’t on my prostate, and my erection begins to wane. I grab a pillow, and roll over on it…and it sinks deeper in my ass. I wiggle a bit, and I can feel the lines on the base bite my balloon knot. Gotta stop pushing or I’ll lose it. My dick has reversed course. I’m stoking slow & easy, and I’m in that magic zone, where I don’t want to come yet.



I open my half closed eyes, and check out Tory. The guy has his cock out, and it just needs a hand grip to be a baseball bat. Good god. Both women are eagerly sucking. I rummage in the toy chest looking for the blackjack. The Blackjack is a toy I purchased about 2 months ago, when I was feeling the need for a real fucking. It’s a double headed dildo, 12 inches long by an inch & half wide. I’ve had it about 7 inches in, and it felt pretty darn nice. It’s heavily textured, and you can feel it move, unlike the smooth silver bullet.



A bigger blob of KY then planned, I rub it down on blackie, as it’s long anyway, and maybe it will smooth out the ride. I pull out the bullet, and just drop it, in goes the blackjack. The extra 6 inches or so flexes under me. On the screen, the baseball bat is about to go into the other girl’s ass. I check the screen. Dana DeArmond. Nice… tattooed bald snatch. Tory leans over her with her nipple piercings dangling. This is DEFINITY going in the porn folder.



As the porn cock goes in the ass, I move trying to get comfier. The forgotten silver bullet is now vibrating on the blackjack. I rise to full tumescence. I reach down to stoke, and my hand still has lube from blackie. Jesus, that’s so good. I arch up, and sink down, catching the protruding end of the dildo on the pillow. I rise up again, and trap the head on the pillow. I begin to pump up and down. I’m fucking myself! Why haven’t I thought of this sooner; it’s fucking fantastic!



I go to sink down again, and I realize I’m hitting the pillow. I’ve got to have nine inches of rubber in my ass. A few months ago I put an ad on Craigslist, trying to find a she male to fuck me, as I’ve wanted to try a real dick. I was contacted by a guy with what appeared to be a large dick. I decided to go for it, and then chickened out; I couldn’t take the biggest toy I have, not more than the head, anyway, and decided I wasn’t ready.



Now with nine inches of cock in my ass, I wonder. I roll on my side. And I go to push blackie with the bullet, to get the vibration I need on my prostate. And blip….my anus closes over the other cockhead.



WTF! I guess I got more than nine inches of cock in there…It’s a full twelve. God, I’m a fucking male ass slut. I open my eyes and look at the screen. Dana is screaming with pleasure as Tory eats her pussy while the cock fucks her.



If she can do it, so can I.



I reach into the toy chest & pull out the red bag. Open it up, and pull out the “real cock” Eight inches long, about two inches wide, flaring to two & a half at the head, and ending in balls with a suction cup base. I got it partially in my ass once, and it came away with a streak of blood, and I stopped trying. Now with twelve inches of cock stretching my ass, I decided to go for it.



A squirt of KY on the tip and in it goes. I arch up over the pillow, the head stretching my hole slowly. I look over at the laptop for inspiration. Tory has that thing in her shitter now. I sink down. There’s a bit of pain, but I push. I’ve got the head. Check the laptop as I stroke just my cockhead. Holy crap…he’s balls deep!



I then just push down, and in it goes. No pain. Just incredible pleasure. I’ve got maybe four inches in, and it stops again. I’ve read that we have 2 sphincters in the anus, and the internal is involuntary. I push against the pillow, and in it sinks, the balls resting on my ass cheeks. I reach down, and grab its remote, and turn it’s vibrator to full blast



I reach down, and stroke my cock, which is the hardest it’s been in years. Just a bit of stroking and my orgasm hits. For those of you who have had an anal orgasm, you know what I’m talking about. My whole body shakes from my head to my toes. The dildo squirted out of my ass from the clutching of my orgasmic bowel. My cockhead hurts from the semen shooting out.



I lay there afterward, my whole body feeling like its vibrating. I needed that cum. I look at my hand. It’s covered in semen. I don’t remember shooting that much in ten years. I look over at the laptop. Tory & Danna covered in cum. Not just the stars though.



I hit the laptop 2 feet away with a glob of semen!









Ok dear readers. This is a true story. I literally cleaned up, and wrote it. I just took the big ‘un and lived to cum about it. Now I have a favor to ask. I always tell you to vote, and to comment, and I usually pull just under a 4.5 and 2 comments. Here’s the deal. If I get higher than a 4.5, and 5 comments, I call the guy I mentioned, and I get ass fucked. I’ll bring along this girl I know who’s a sub, and three of us, and a little blue pill and some toys will go for it, and results will be my next story.



It’s on you.

My wife had been gone six months when my sister Karen called, “What’s going on big brother? Moping?”



She meant it to be funny but it still stung. My wife Lori had walked out one day while I was at work. She left her ring on top of a note that read “I’m leaving. I’ve met someone through my game who gets me.”



Lori had started playing World of Warcraft and that’s when our two year marriage fell apart. She wasn’t working while we tried to start a family but she was quickly doing nothing else either but playing her game. Sadly my sister’s words didn’t sting because they were true but because I felt guilty for not moping. Lori’s leaving was a relief.



“Hey sis, no, I’m done moping. I’ve actually got a date if you must know,” I told her.



“Good for you! I won’t keep you then but I’ve got a huge favor to ask. How would you feel about a roommate? Jen is going to start grad school soon and if she has a Texas address she can get in-state tuition plus I’ll know that she’s safe and looked after. Think about it and you can get back to me,” my sister said.



“I don’t have to think about it. Of course she can move in. It’ll be nice to have another person around. I’ve got to ask though. Is this something she wants or are you forcing this on her?” I asked not wanting Jen to feel she had to move in.



“Actually this was her idea,” my sister replied, “You don’t know how much this means to me. We’ll talk more later. Have fun on your date. Bye.”



My sister is five years younger than me. At 17 she got pregnant and my parents kicked her out of the house. She moved into my apartment with me and for the first eight years of Jen’s life I was basically dad to her. With my support Karen graduated college and got her law degree.



She got a great job out of state and so I’ve not seen either of them as much as I would like. Jen got her mother’s smarts so I didn’t think having a roommate, especially one who would have her nose in her books all the time, would be a problem. It also might be nice to have someone young around the house; well, younger than my 45 years.



Jen moved in at the beginning of August and the mood of the house quickly changed. Where I tended to get home from work and read Jen wanted to see the town. We ended up going out to eat quite often trying new places I’d heard about but not tried. We went to movies and shows, hit some museums, and drove around so she could get acquainted with the town. I suddenly dawned on me that if Jen wasn’t my niece I’d think we were dating as much as we were doing together. The month passed quickly and we found ourselves with only one weekend left until grad school started for Jen.



I came home that Friday night to find dinner on the table and the house cleaner than I’d ever seen it.



“Jen, the place looks amazing! And what’s cooking? It smells so good,” I remarked as the smells of garlic and oregano hit me.



“I had to figure out a way to thank you. You’ve been doing so much for me I wanted to repay the favor. I made salad, blackened chicken with pasta, and garlic bread. After dinner we’ll go to that new theater that serves food for a movie and drinks and dessert,” Jen said.



The food tasted as good as it smelled and we enjoyed a leisurely meal talking about everything but school coming up on Monday. Jen had already purchased tickets for the movie so we weren’t concerned that we were running late. Turns out we only missed the previews and so putting our dessert and drink orders in we settled back to enjoy the movie. The movie turned out to be a bit on the scary side and Jen ended up clutching at my arm a few times during the scarier parts even leaving nail marks in my skin during one scene. Once the lights came up we knew that the fun we’d had was about to end as Jen had some readings to do before classes started which would keep her busy most of Saturday and Sunday.



We got home shortly after midnight but, neither of us being tired, we cleaned the kitchen together and put the dishes away before saying goodnight and heading to our rooms. As we said goodnight I would have sworn that Jen tilted her head and leaned in to me a bit. If I didn’t know better I’d have thought she was looking for a kiss.



I laid in bed and read for a bit but was too restless to sleep. My mind filled in the gaps of what might have been if I had kissed Jen. I saw scenes of us in bed together and then, and much more likely, of Jen slapping me and moving out. What the hell was i thinking? Having had enough I got out of bed. Normally a nude sleeper I threw on boxers and a t-shirt before going out into the living room to watch TV. Turning on HBO I caught a movie I’d seen several times and before long I found myself drifting off.



I was startled awake by something cold but in my sleepy state I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Finally focusing I could barely breath when I discovered that the cold I felt was lube being rubbed on my cock by Jen. Before I could protest she climbed onto my lap and lowered herself onto my now hard dick. I knew Jen was beautiful but I had no idea just how sexy she was until this moment. She had a little extra weight that made her hips, belly, and butt nice and full. Her breasts were big, bigger than I’d even realized, and as Jen started to move they swayed and bounced with her. Her long hair swept down her back and I grabbed a handful of it pulling her away from me so I could wrap my lips around her nipples.



Jen rode me slowly grinding herself on my hard cock. This time when she tilted her head and leaned in she covered my lips with hers. I clearly felt Jen tighten up around my cock as she started to orgasm. The pulsing felt amazing and I soon followed with my own orgasm. I held her tight covering her breasts with kisses as I exploded over and over deep inside her. Inside Jen. My niece. Holding my shoulders Jen raised herself off me and turning, she walked back to her room.



I woke up Saturday morning to the smell of coffee. Evidently I’d slept on the couch all night. Last night. Oh shit, last night. It all came rushing back at me. The cold feeling that woke me up, Jen straddling me, her leaving. Surely that didn’t…it was a dream…but it was so vivid…



Jen was at the kitchen table, books and papers spread out around her, and a cup of coffee at her elbow.



“Good morning. I made coffee if you want some and it looks like you need it. Rough night?” she asked.



Okay. It was a dream. Good. Right? Good? Yes. I downed the coffee and grabbed a shower before heading out to run some errands. “Need anything Jen?” I asked, “I need to get a few things done around town.”



“Double A batteries for the remote but that’s all for me,” she said, “I got an early start this morning so if you want to do something this evening I should be free.”



The errands took longer than I thought so on the way home I picked up food for us and grabbed a couple of movies. I found Jen where I left her and when I set the food in front of her she wolfed it down.



“Your first meal of the day?” I guessed.



“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled through her mouthful of food.



When she could talk she said she had finished studying for the night and asked what I’d like to do. Images of Jen riding me flashed through my mind. To hide the fact I was probably blushing I turned my back on Jen and pulled out the movies I’d picked up for us.



Popping in the movie Jen selected we settled down on the couch. I found myself sneaking glances at Jen, flashes of her naked flesh running through my mind in an endless loop.



“Want some popcorn?” I asked in order to distract myself.



“Sure. Why don’t we pause the movie though,” Jen suggested, “I need to get something from my room.”



I left the popcorn in a minute longer than suggested because Jen likes it slightly burned. Grabbing the bowl I headed back to the couch and sat back down when Jen came back into the living room and my mouth dropped open. She had changed clothes and the body stocking she now wore was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. My ex usually wore a long t-shirt to bed which was so not sexy.



Jen sat across from me in the recliner throwing her legs over the arms of the chair. I discovered that the body stocking was crotchless. As I stared, my brain screaming at me to look away, she opened a sack I’d not noticed her bring out with her. From the sack she pulled out a penis-shaped dildo and some lube. Putting some lube in the palm of her hand she slowly rubbed it around the head and shaft of the dildo. I couldn’t help but imagine my dick in her hand from last night and I instantly felt myself growing hard.



She turned a knob at the base of the dildo and a buzzing sound filled the room. Setting the popcorn aside I squirmed a bit as my erection was making things a bit uncomfortable.



“It’s okay if you need to take your dick out,” Jen remarked noticing what was happening with me.



“I can’t. You’re my niece. This is…no…I shouldn’t,” I said but it was a feeble protest which ended when Jen rubbed the buzzing dildo across her nipples. I popped open my button-fly jeans and soon had my hard dick in my hand. Jen gave me a smile as her eyes locked on my cock and she moved the dildo down her stomach and let the buzzing dildo linger on her clit.



Her moans soon filled the room as did mine when, using the fingers of one hand, she spread her pussy open and worked the dildo inside her. I stroked my cock to match the movement of the dildo Jen was using. As she started to increase the speed of the dildo pushing into her I moved my hand faster. I was caught by surprise when Jen suddenly stopped, stood up, turned and knelt in the chair, her ass up in the air.



I knew what she wanted and I wanted to give it to her. But this is your niece I heard in my head and I realized that the thought was actually turning me on. I was up and off the couch, kicking my jeans and boxers off as I cross the room, I grabbed Jen’s hips and plunged my stiff dick into her slick cunt. One swift movement and I was all the way inside her.



“Fuck me. Fuck your niece’s cunt,” she screamed.



I had lost all control and holding Jen’s hips tight I pushed her back as I moved forward slamming into her again and again. Faster and harder. Flesh smacking as our bodies collided.



“Cum in my ass. Please,” Jen begged as she picked up the lube from the end-table next to the chair and handed it to me.



Squirting the lube directly on her hot little pink pucker I rubbed it in even slipping a finger in her ass. Pulling out of her hot cunt was not easy because it felt so good but I wanted to make my niece happy. I rubbed the head of my cock against her ass teasing her and then, putting a hand on each side of her beautifully plump ass I spread her cheeks and pushed the head of my dick inside her.



“Oh fuck,” she screamed and whether from pleasure or pain I had no idea nor did I care any more.



Grabbing a handful of Jen’s long hair I held on tightly as I shoved more and more of my dick in her ass. Though she screamed I also felt her relax and I knew then that the screams were ones of pleasure.I felt a sudden tightness and, glancing down, I saw that Jen had grabbed the dildo and shoved it back in her pussy. She turned it on and held it inside her which brought her over the edge. I fucked her ass faster and harder feeling my own orgasm nearing and then I exploded. My hot jizz shooting deep into my niece’s ass as my own screams joined hers.



Pulling out of Jen’s ass I couldn’t believe what we’d just done. It felt wrong and right but I realized, no matter how wrong, I didn’t care any more. So caught up in my thoughts I didn’t realize Jen was talking to me.



“What was that?” I asked.



“I wondered if we could do this again tomorrow night?” Jen replied.



“Why wait that long?” I responded, “I’ve been wondering what that pussy might taste like,” and, taking her hand, I led her to my bed where I quickly found out.

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