Flicking through the pages of her precious book Beyonce Knowles came across a set of photos she had taken a few years ago and hadn’t looked at in a while. Like all the other photos which brought back such vivid memories these made her smile, Beyonce remembering coming back to her hotel suite expecting to find one of her willing white sluts waiting for her only to find two pale bodies in her bed, one with their face down and their ass up and pointing at the door while the other girl was stretched out on top of her with her face buried in her ass. Beyonce had been angry at first, thinking one of her bitches had stepped out of line, but it turned out that wasn’t the case and what followed was one wild night…


“What the fuck do you think you’re doing slut?” Beyonce yelled out angrily.

A few feet away on the bed of Beyonce’s luxury suite a woman with dark raven hair lifted her face up from another woman’s ass and looked up at the black singer.

“Preparing my gift for you my Black Mistress.” Rose McGowan said as she spread the ass cheeks of the other pale woman, “Just a little something I seduced for you, to show my appreciation to my Black Mistress for making me her white bitch.

Beyonce’s anger faded as she was presented with a white woman’s ass hole. However her anger returned, “You have already sampled her?”

“I’ve spent most of this week with my tongue inside her cunt my Black Mistress.” Rose said proudly.

“So, your idea of a gift is to bring your Black Mistress your sloppy seconds?” Beyonce questioned coldly.

“No my Black Mistress. I have merely prepared her for you.” Rose swore, “I turned her into a dyke for you my Black Mistress. Last week she was a mildly curious straight girl. Today she is a lesbian slut who never wants to be with a man again. She just wants a Mistress, a dominant woman who will boss her around, make her eat pussy and take her virgin ass.”

“Virgin ass?” Beyonce parroted, licking her lips.

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Rose said, leaning down to give the other white woman’s ass hole a long lick before looking up and continuing, “I heard she liked it up the ass which I thought would make her an easy conquest for you, but as it turns out that was just a rumour.”

“Anne Hathaway?” Beyonce guessed.

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Rose beamed, before pressing her face down against one of Anne’s ass cheeks and gently stroking the other, “Her skin is nice and pale, just like mine, so I thought you would approve. And thanks to me she’s addicted to pussy. She especially loves to 69. I’m not sure if you would prefer her to already be a anal slut as well as an expert cunt lapper, but if I was still topping women I’d consider a skilled tongue and a virgin ass to be the perfect combination for a new little slut.”

Beyonce slowly smiled and then tousled Rose’s hair with the affection someone would show a pet, “You’ve done well my little white bitch. Now, continue preparing her ass for me while I strap on a nice big black dick so I can take her little anal cherry.”

Not needing to be told twice Rose eagerly dived back down between Anne’s ass cheeks, pausing when she was an inch away from her destination so she could spit onto the other dark haired woman’s butt hole. Similarly the moment her spit it Anne’s ass hole Rose’s tongue was pushing it into the tight anal ring that her black mistress was moments away from violating.

Beyonce watched a few long minutes as Rose ate out Anne’s ass like a starving woman who had just been given her first meal in weeks. Then, very slowly, Beyonce stripped off every ounce of her clothing, retrieved one of her medium-sized black strap on cocks and a tube of anal lube from a nearby drawer, strapped the dildo firmly around her waist and applied a generous amount of lubricant to it.

Usually Beyonce preferred to make one of her bitches lubricate her cock with their mouths, but on this occasion she was so enthralled by watching Rose eating Anne’s ass that the black singer knew that the only reason she wanted to order Rose’s mouth and tongue away from Anne’s butt was when she intended to fuck some virgin white girl booty.

As a result Beyonce found herself just watching the white girl on white girl rim job for quite a while before she finally ordered, “Rose, get off of her and go get my camera. Anne, spread your ass cheeks.”

Rose didn’t hesitate to obey. Anne did for a couple of long seconds but then she reached back to spread her own ass cheeks as wide as she could.

Smiling widely Beyonce pressed the tip of her strap on against Anne’s virgin ass hole and asked, “Are you ready to give up your anal cherry to me slut?”

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Anne said softly.

“Beg me.” Beyonce pushed, “Beg me to take your anal cherry.”

“Please my Black Mistress, take my anal cherry.” Anne begged softly, “I… I want my butt fucked… oh, butt fuck me, ahhhh, oh God stretch my butt hole. I want my butt hole stretched open so I can take your big black cock up my white ass my Black Mistress. OH FUCK, oh yes my Black Mistress, open my virgin ass hole! Oh my Black Mistress… ah, take my anal cherry… oh, aaaahhhhhh, oh, OH FUCK!”

As Anne begged Beyonce pushed forwards less than a millimetre a minute, making Anne’s ass hole stretch open extremely slowly so the singer/actress could savour every moment of taking the white girl’s butt cherry. The whole time Rose took a generous amount of pictures, constantly moving around so she could get Anne’s reaction shots while being careful not to miss the moment her black mistress slid into her latest conquest’s ass. And she didn’t, Rose taking so many shots that her black mistress would later have a frame by frame reminder how Anne’s virgin butt hole stretched wide enough to allow the head of Beyonce’s big black strap on dick to slide through that tight ring of flesh and deep into Anne’s virgin ass.

Beyonce stop to savour the moment of taking yet another white girl’s butt cherry, the dark skinned singer spending a long time just staring at the head of her black cock buried in between Anne’s pale ass cheeks. The snapping and flashing of the camera only making it better for Beyonce who was already looking forward to going through all the photos to choose which ones to put in her little book as a memento of the night she gave Anne Hathaway her first butt fucking and turned her into her white bitch.

However as much as Beyonce was looking forward to adding pictures into her book it couldn’t compare with her favourite thing in the world, that of course being ass fucking a white girl. Which was why even though she spent plenty of time savouring the heavenly moment of popping Anne’s butt cherry Beyonce did eventually tighten her grip on the actress’s hips and begin gently pushing inch after inch of long, thick black dildo deep into her new white bitch’s bowels.

Unsurprisingly Anne whimpered and tensed as her rectum was stretched and filled by Beyonce’s large strap on dick. Fully expecting this the expert white girl tamer came to a stop every time Anne tensed up, Beyonce extremely pleased that the latest notch on her belt forced herself to quickly relax so the singer could slide more fake cock deep into her back passage. Either Rose did a very good job of preparing Anne or Anne was one smart little white girl.

Either way Beyonce founded reasonably easy slide every inch of her black cock into Anne’s white virgin ass, Beyonce literally moaning in delight as her chocolate hips smacked against Anne’s milky butt cheeks, announcing that every inch of her strap on dick was deep inside the other woman’s rectum.

Usually Beyonce would tell her latest conquest how proud she was of her for taking every inch of her big black dick up her white ass. But this time when full anal penetration was achieved Beyonce was too busy admiring the clash in skin tones of herself and her new pet, the singer loving the fact Anne’s skin was creamy white that it made her own caramel skin look even darker in comparison.

When Beyonce was able to pull herself out of her little fetish for a few seconds she considered that while she believed Rose was telling the truth she hadn’t been the one to seduce Anne so there really was no bond between them. Sure, they were bonded together in the sense that Beyonce’s strap on was deep inside Anne’s virgin ass, but as they had never really shared a conversation before there was no emotional connection, so she probably pushed things to far already with the earlier dirty talk.

Besides, Beyonce was loving this moment so much that it almost felt like words would ruin it. So instead she just stayed perfectly still, waiting until Rose had taken so many pictures she had to change the film and Anne’s whimpers had died down until they were barely audible. Only then did Beyonce slowly begin to sodomise Anne, pumping the dildo in and out of her new white slut’s back door at a slow but steady pace.

Even though her ass was getting fucked for the first time, which Beyonce imagined to be a overwhelming experience, Anne kept her hands firmly on her ass cheeks, continuing to spread them just as wide as she had throughout the initial anal penetration. Regardless whether that was because of Rose’s training or Anne’s own initiative it proved in Beyonce’s mind that Anne would make an excellent addition to her collection of bitches.

Of course as much as Beyonce loved watching a bitch spreading her ass cheeks for her, and everything else about sodomising her latest conquest, the very best part about this whole situation was that there was no doubt in her mind that Anne was an anal virgin. Expert butt pounder that she was Beyonce knew that Anne’s ass was just too tight for her to be anything else.

There was truly know better present Beyonce could ever receive then a virgin white booty, and this one had been given to her on a silver platter. She would have almost certainly have preferred to be the first to taste Anne’s pussy, and been the first to give Anne a taste of pussy, but for her to return to her hotel suite after a long day to find a virgin white butt just waiting for her to fuck was literally a dream come true. For that she was very grateful to her loyal little pet Rose McGowan and already had half a dozen ways in mind in which she could rewarded her, the first of which she was going to give her very soon.

A shiver of anticipation slid through Rose’s body as her black mistress suddenly looked at her with a mixture of lust, satisfaction and some other things Rose couldn’t quite name. Regardless Rose was pretty sure it was a silent message from Beyonce that she was enjoying Anne’s ass. Or Rose’s ass was next. Probably both. In fact Rose was sure it was both, which only made her shiver with anticipation again.

Then Beyonce began switching her gaze between Rose and her dildo sliding in and out of Anne’s ass hole, those looks making Rose hope she was about to get an invite to the party. She wasn’t disappointed.

“Anne… let go of your ass cheeks.” Beyonce ordered softly, watching as Anne slowly let her arms falling either side of her. Then Beyonce turned to her already broken in pet, “Rose, hand me that camera and get back to kneeling over this bitch and spreading her cheeks for me.”

Having a good idea where this was going Rose handed her black mistress the camera and got into the position she had been in when her dark skinned goddess first arrived. Once Rose was spreading Anne’s ass cheeks Beyonce took a couple of shots of her broken bitch looking up at her expectantly, and of course that big black dildo slowly pumping in and out of Anne’s pooper, although the focus was clearly on Rose. Then Beyonce asked, “You liked the taste of Anne’s ass, didn’t you Rose?”

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Rose said, her mouth watering in anticipation, “I love the taste of Anne’s ass.”

“Bet you’d love to taste it again wouldn’t you, you little butt loving slut?” Beyonce smirked.

“Oh yeah my Black Mistress, I’d love to taste her ass again. And this time I want to taste the deepest fucking part of it. Mmmmm, please my Black Mistress, feed me the deepest part of Anne’s ass. Pull your big black cock from deep inside Anne’s shitter and let me taste the deepest part of her fucking ass!” Rose begged.

There was a pause, Rose guessing Beyonce was considering punishing her for begging without permission. Rose had considered the same thing many times when she had been in Beyonce’s position. But Rose guessed that like herself her new black mistress wouldn’t be able to resist her begging.

Rose was right, after only a few long seconds there was a big fat strap on dick pressed against Rose’s red lips. Those lips immediately parted so Rose could take the big head of the dildo into her mouth, the star of Charmed moaning lustfully at she tasted the deepest part of Anne’s ass.

“That’s it, good little ATM bitch!” Beyonce practically growled as she took a picture of Rose beginning to eagerly suck on her ass flavoured strap on, “Mmmmmm, yeah you love the taste of ass, don’t you you little anal slut? Doesn’t matter whether it’s the tight little ass hole, the first few inches inside, or the deepest part of some slut’s shit hole, you fucking love it! Ohhhhh yeah suck that cock! Mmmmm, we both know what a great cock sucker you are Rose, but you fucking put porn stars to shame when my cock is covered in some slut’s ass juice!”

Rose grinned around the toy cock in her mouth. It was true, she had been with plenty of guys who had been more than a little complementary when it came to her cock sucking skills but right now, and when ever Beyonce shoved a ass flavoured strap on in her face, Rose was putting her time sucking real or unflavoured cock to shame.

The way Rose desperately sucked on the cock, eagerly taking inch after inch into her mouth and down her throat, controlling her gag reflex even when she was bobbing her head on the entire shaft, even the way she looked up at her black mistress as the dark skinned singer took photographs of her, everything made it seem like a perfect blow job. Even when Beyonce started fucking her throat Rose took it, eagerly allowing her black mistress to turn her into a face pussy if it meant she might get the last drops of Anne’s anal juices off the dildo.


Suddenly finding herself a forgotten woman was both a blessing and a curse for Anne. Her sore ass hole felt relieved to be free of the giant cock stretching it out, but at the same time Anne found herself actually missing the feeling of being stretched back there. In fact after a lot of pain and discomfort the ass fucking had started to feel really good just as it was abruptly ended.

Meanwhile Anne felt so exposed in her current position. Her ass was still sticking in the air and Rose’s hands were still spreading her ass cheeks wide, leaving her holes on display to two women who had seemingly forgotten her. Yet to be so exposed, so on display, was oddly thrilling. And while it made Anne feel ashamed hearing the ATM action, and even craning her head back to watch a little, was an incredible turn on.

In a way Anne supposed wasn’t much different from Rose licking her ass hole, which was one of the many things Anne had never imagined she would experience and yet a week of Rose’s tongue deep in her butt hole had completely changed Anne’s mind about ass licking. Ironically returning the favour was one of the few things Rose hadn’t been able to convince Anne to do, and yet as she lay there with her ass up in the air Anne couldn’t stop thinking about licking ass or tasting ass on a dildo. The way Rose told it if Anne wanted to be Beyonce’s bitch she was going to have to learn to love the taste of ass, and while Anne feared the possibility of it she had also found herself turned on by it, now more than ever.

Suddenly Anne found herself awoken from her thoughts as Beyonce shoved her strap on back up her ass, the movie actress gripping tightly to the sheets as her rectum was once again filled by black cock.

Beyonce wasn’t as slow this time and yet thanks to it’s earlier fucking Anne’s ass was loose enough to take the dildo almost easily. In fact while there was still some discomfort and even some pain as her back passage was stretched widely by a cock for only the second time in her life the main reason Anne found herself clutching the bed sheet was because of pleasure. That pleasure increased until Anne was moaning softly, then Beyonce suddenly pulled out of Anne’s ass and shoved her strap on back inside Rose’s mouth.

This process was repeated over and over, however the butt fucking sessions became increasingly long, any pain or discomfort fading completely to the point where even when Beyonce slammed her strap on back into Anne’s ass hole all Anne felt was pleasure. Beyonce stuffed and fucked her ass increasingly roughly, the dark skinned singer even beginning to switch from Anne’s ass to Rose’s mouth and back again in short sharp thrusts but still all Anne felt was pleasure. Then Beyonce fucked her butt until Anne was sure she was going to cum only to switch to Rose’s mouth at the last second. Still the process continued, Beyonce constantly denying Anne an orgasm until the actress was a whimpering wreck.

Only then did Beyonce give her new pet some hope, “Do you wanna cum Anne?”

“YES, yes my Black Mistress, please make me cum. I wanna cum sooooooo bad!” Anne whimpered.

“Rose, go back to taking pictures.” Beyonce said, handing Rose the camera who, taking the hint, got off Anne and stood back as the singer turned her attention back to her new little prize, “Anne, lift yourself up so you’re on your hands and knees. Good girl, now start pushing yourself back and forth on my dick. NOT TO FAST SLUT! That’s better, mmmmmm, yeah, that’s it, fuck that little white ass on my big black dick. Mmmmmmm, good little white bitch. Now tell me, are you really a anal virgin?”

“Not any more my Black Mistress.” Anne moaned as she pumped her ass back against the large dildo.

“Because I was the one to take your anal cherry?” Beyonce pushed.

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Anne said, momentarily a little confused before then adding, “Rose only ever licked my ass. Her tongue has been the only thing inside that hole, I swear…”

“Her white ass is my gift to you my Black Mistress.” Rose interrupted, “She is my gift to you for making me your white bitch.”

“Is that what you are Anne?” Beyonce grinned, “A present one woman is giving another?”

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Anne blushed, “I’m a gift. My white ass is a present for a dominant alpha female.”

“And what an enjoyable present you are.” Beyonce beamed, thrusting extra hard into Anne’s ass and making her new white bitch moan extra loud, “Mmmmm, yeah, I can believe this is a virgin ass. It’s certainly nice and tight, just the way I like my white girl booties.”

“Oooooooh, I’m, mmmmmmmm, I’m glad my white girl booty is pleasing you my Black Mistress.” Anne moaned, trying to thrust hard back in time with the now random thrusts Beyonce was giving her.

“Oh it is, but I wonder, did your little friend Rose tell you what it means to be my white bitch?” Beyonce questioned.

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Anne groaned, finding it difficult to concentrate as she felt herself again approaching orgasm, “She ooooooohhhhhhhh, she said I would be expected to bend over when ever you wanted a piece of my white ass. That mmmmmmmm, that my white ass would be yours to do with as you pleased. I would be yours. Mmmmmmmm, aaaaahhhhhhh, oh my Black Mistress, I want to be yours sooooooo bad. Rose said that you would fuck me however, whenever and wherever you wanted. Ooooooooooooh please my Black Mistress, let me be part of your collection of white girls. Put those pictures of me in your book as your trophies for making another white girl yours. I want to be your trophy my Black Mistress. Your prize. A piece of white meat that you conquered. Mmmmmmmmm, please my Black Mistress, use my mouth and ass however, whenever, and wherever you want. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, I WANT TO BE YOUR WHITE BITCH MY BLACK MISTRESS! MAKE ME CUM AND MAKE ME YOUR WHITE BITCHHHHH!”

As Anne spoke Beyonce slowly increase the pace of her thrusts, the butt fucking becoming harder and harder until the sound of Beyonce’s hips smacking off Anne’s ass cheeks was almost deafening.

Rose wasn’t able to catch that beautiful sound, but the pictures she was able to take spoke volumes. Especially the shots of the other two women’s faces, both Anne and Beyonce seemingly lost in pure pleasure. However it was clear it was a very different type of pleasure, Anne overwhelmed by the pleasure of submission while Beyonce’s face was a mask of dominance.

Having seduced a number of women herself Rose definitely recognise the look of submission. She saw it on the night she seduced Anne, and all the other times she had fucked Anne since. And she vividly remembered the look that was now on Beyonce’s face from the night her black mistress turned her into her white bitch, and all the other times Beyonce had fucked her.

They made for two beautiful pics, but while Rose was somewhat focused on them she didn’t forget to take some other equally beautiful pics. Like a wide shot of Beyonce’s curvy chocolate body pounding into Anne’s petite pale frame from behind. And of course, Beyonce’s big black strap on dick pounding in and out of Anne’s widely stretched butt hole. Not that camera could do justice to just how brutally Beyonce was pounding Anne’s poor pooper, but Rose was sure that just looking at the pics later would be enough to remind her black mistress of just how roughly she took Anne’s ass, and just how shamelessly Anne begged for more.

Rose had never needed mementos of her nights of hot sweaty sex. The good nights stuck in her mind without any needed reminders, and she had enough of those good nights, especially with women, to get her through the rare lonely nights, more often than not brought about by a hectic work schedule. However this was an extremely hot lesbian butt fucking she was now watching, and the more shots of Beyonce Knowles fucking Anne Hathaway in the ass she took the more Rose felt like that when all was said and done she was going to have to beg her black mistress for a copy of these pics.

Even though the camera went off half a dozen times every minute, prompting Rose to change the film several times, it, Rose and everything else in the world had completely faded away for Anne and Beyonce, both women becoming completely lost in the now violent lesbian anal sex. Or at least almost completely lost. If they had been completely lost Beyonce would have made Anne cum by now.


It didn’t matter what ever Anne said, Beyonce just kept pushing her to the very edge of orgasm only to deny her. At least when Beyonce had been slowly fucking her ass the pace would increase and decrease only very gradually so even though she was constantly brought to the edge Anne had plenty of time to recover in between each almost orgasm. Now she felt like she was about to cum at least twice every minute, Beyonce decreasing the speed of the butt fucking only slightly each time so that the moment Anne felt herself coming down from her high she was suddenly skyrocketing back towards a climax again.

The whole thing was so maddening. Before this week Anne was lucky if her lovers could make her cum on the first attempt, then Rose made it seem effortless, now Beyonce was simply choosing not too. And it was going to be such an amazing series of orgasms. Anne could tell just by the way every part of her body seemed to be on fire, but at this moment she was remembering vividly her time with Rose. Anne remembered her first girl caused orgasm, and the ones that quickly followed it as Rose tongue fucked her into lesbianism. After that series of orgasms Anne had practically been begging rose to let her be her little lesbian plaything, but Rose had explained she was to be a gift for an even more dominant woman who would make Anne cum even harder.

At the time it had seemed absurd that anything could make her cum harder, especially from something like anal sex. And yet just as Anne’s imagination had failed to do justice to just how magical another woman’s mouth and tongue could be on her most private of areas the actress had also failed to imagine just how heavenly a dildo could feel when it was slamming in and out of her ass. Sure, it had been uncomfortable and even painful at first but now every little movement of that fake cock in her rectum felt like pure heaven to Anne. She almost wanted it to last, however knowing the ecstasy that awaited her upon orgasm only had Anne begging even more shamelessly until her throat was raw from screaming and all she could manage was soft, barely audible cries of, “Please make me cum, please make me cum, please make me cum, please make me cum, please make me cum!”

Finally, at what seemed like at random, Beyonce didn’t slow down. Instead she sped up, using what Anne could only guess was every ounce of her strength to pound deep into her ass hole and make Anne cum harder than ever before.

Anne screamed incoherently as her body shook violently and her eyes rolled back in her head, the white actress frantically slamming herself back almost as hard as the black singer/actress was slamming deep into her rectum. The frantic bowel wrecking continued for a few long minutes, Anne experiencing orgasm after orgasm until she had used up every little bit of energy and her arms gave way so that the whole of her upper body when crashing down onto the bed. However her lower body was kept firmly in place by Beyonce’s vice like grip, not that Anne was even capable of complaining at this point. She could barely even comprehend what was happening to her, her mind feeling like it was literally melting under the force of her multiple orgasms.

Just before her mind completely melted Anne was filled with overwhelming regret that she hadn’t tried anal earlier, followed by overwhelming hope that thanks to her new position as Beyonce’s bitch she would be able to make up for lost time, hopefully by experiencing ecstasy like this everyday.

Beyonce grinned widely, proud of the fact that she had once again reduced a white girl into a quivering mess. Of course Beyonce didn’t fuck women because she loved making them cum. No, their pleasure was mostly just a byproduct for Beyonce, and while it was a very enjoyable byproduct it was never Beyonce’s main goal. That was and always would be her own pleasure. Beyonce was fucking Anne’s ass for her own pleasure which was why even as the Oscar-nominated actress lay whimpering before her the Grammy-winning singer continued the brutal sodomy for her own sadistic enjoyment.

To be fair even in her lust crazed state Beyonce noticed Anne cumming so hard she squirted. It was impossible to miss given that the orgasm was so powerful that it gave Anne an extra shot of energy, the star of The Princess Diaries and The Devil Wears Prada suddenly turning into a trembling Bucking Bronco. However seasoned ass tamer that she was Beyonce didn’t even miss a rectum wrecking thrust, instead just effortlessly holding on to Anne’s hips as she continued to pound white girl booty.

At this point Beyonce was a little unsure whether she had cum a few times or the constant bashing on her clit combined with the mental stimulation of breaking in a fresh piece of white ass was causing her to have one long hard orgasm. It didn’t matter that much, either way Beyonce knew she now had a difficult choice to make.

Beyonce could very easily just use all of her remaining energy to continue this brutal butt fucking for as long as she could. And it was an incredibly tempting thought, Beyonce making sure that her new white bitch’s butt hole would remain stretched widely open for hours, maybe even days to come.

The vision of Anne Hathaway struggling to sit down, or shit, or even walk properly because her ass hole was still gaping and sore from the first time Beyonce had used the white girl’s shit hole as a fuck hole actually pushed the singer over the edge of another climax. That alone almost had Beyonce diverting all of her remaining energy into slamming Anne’s shitter. And if it was just the two of them Beyonce probably would have. However it wasn’t just the two of them.

There was another white bitch in the room, a white bitch Beyonce had intended on fucking when she got back to her hotel room and she was determined to do just that. Besides, while Beyonce had started the fucking session by popping Anne Hathaway’s anal cherry and turning her into her white bitch there were a few other things Beyonce was hoping to do. Not that Rose’s ass hole was safe of course. No, Beyonce was going to destroy Rose’s tiny little rosebud in just a minute, but first it was time for Anne to taste her own ass.

After one more hard orgasm for the both of them Beyonce pulled her strap on cock out of Anne’s ass hole and quickly moved around the bed, grabbing a handful of dark hair as she went and pulling on it. As a result when she was kneeling in front of Anne’s face Beyonce was able to immediately shove the dildo, which seconds before had been deep inside Anne’s shitter, directly into her new white bitch’s whimpering mouth.

“SUCK IT WHITE HO!” Beyonce screamed, holding Anne firmly in place by her hair, “SUCK YOUR NASTY LITTLE WHITE ASS JUICE OFF MY BIG BLACK COCK! CLEAN THE DICK I JUST USED TO POP YOUR ANAL CHERRY! MMMMMMmmmmmm, yeah, suck it you little ATM slut. Oooooooh yeah, you love the taste of your own ass. Just like all my other white bitches.”

When the dildo was first shoved in her mouth Anne was so delirious she had no idea what was going on. She just heard the voice of the woman who had given her amazing pleasure, the woman who had just conquered her and turned her into her bitch. What else could have Anne possibly done except obey?

As she began gently sucking on the fake cock Anne quickly realised that she was tasting the deepest depths of her rectum. Beyonce’s words confirmed it, and while Anne felt disgusted and even a little humiliated at having to do this after all those orgasms Anne couldn’t even really imagine disobeying. So Anne sucked every little bit of her own ass juice off of her black mistress’s strap on and then began bobbing her head on the cock, taking inch after inch into her mouth and eventually down her throat.

At the beginning of the week sucking cock was the naughtiest thing Anne did in bed. She was aware it wasn’t really that naughty, and that most people performed oral sex, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything kinkier despite having thought about it. Rose had changed all that. Thanks to her Anne had just lost her anal cherry and now she was sucking on a cock which had so recently been deeply embedded in her butt. And the more Anne sucked it the more she became comfortable with it, even starting to like it.

It was just so perverted. Far more so than she thought she could ever do. And she was even deep throating it. She, the good girl Anne Hathaway, was relaxing muscles in her throat so she could allow a big dildo that had been in the deepest part of her bowels to slide down her gullet.

Anne hadn’t even deep throated before Rose turned her into a little slut. She’d never needed to because she could get most of her previous lovers’ cocks into her mouth with just the tip poking at the entrance to her throat. But Rose had insisted on giving Anne lessons in being a good little cock sucker, which was ironic because Rose had also made Anne promise that she would never be with another man and would devote her life to pleasing women. Apparently that included taking big strap on dildos down her throat, and while at the time Anne had been sceptical about that now she hoped more than anything she was pleasing Beyonce with her abilities as a cock sucker.

She certainly seem to be pleasing her black mistress given the way Beyonce was moaning things like, “Fuck yeah suck it slut, suck every drop of your ass juices of my big black dick. Mmmmmmmm, you like it don’t you? You like the taste of your ass! You love the taste of your own slutty ass that I just fucked! MMMMMMMMMM, you fucking better, because from now on you’re going to be tasting your own ass a lot! And other asses. Yeah, you’re going to suck down so much ass juice that you’re going to become a total ass slut, which trust me is a good thing, because as my white bitch you’re going to be expected to be a total ass slut!”

As she continued to verbally abuse her new bitch Beyonce started pumping her head back and forth, making the strap on slide in and out of Anne’s mouth. Beyonce did this gently at first, but quickly increased the pace until she was firmly fucking Anne’s pretty face.

To Beyonce’s delight Anne took it without complaint, the clearly submissive white actress allowing herself to be used as a face pussy.

With the additional ‘help’ Anne was able to take the whole of the big dildo down her throat, Beyonce grinning in delight as her hips smacked into Anne’s face, “That’s it, deep throat that mother fucker! Take every fucking inch down your fucking throat! If you don’t know how to deep throat you better learn fast bitch, because to me a white girl’s mouth is just like her ass hole, a orifice for me to fuck! A hole for my dick! A fuck hole I can use whenever I want for my pleasure! So I suggest you get used to being a face pussy, because this is only the beginning for you slut!”

Beyonce continued fucking Anne’s throat several long minutes, occasionally pulling out all the way to allow Anne to gasp for breath before shoving the strap on right back into Anne’s mouth. The only thing that changed was that Beyonce began gently smacking and then rubbing Anne’s face with the dick, covering her new white slut’s pretty face in her own saliva, and maybe a little of her own ass juice if there was any left that hadn’t been sucked down Anne’s throat.

While this was fun Beyonce was still in the mood for ass fucking, and a few feet away there was still a white bitch with a nice tight white ass just waiting for Beyonce to stretch it out.

The bitch in question was still obediently taking photos, mostly of Anne sucking cock, but Beyonce couldn’t help notice that Rose was taking plenty of shots of Anne’s ass.

“How’s the butt hole look slut?” Beyonce barked over at Rose.

“Gaping my Black Mistress.” Rose replied quickly, before elaborating, “Anne’s ass hole is like a fucking crater. You destroyed that virgin hole soooo good my Black Mistress I bet Anne’s poor little back door won’t even be able to think about closing for hours. Maybe days.”

“And you want your butt hole stretched just as wide, don’t you slut?” Beyonce grinned.

“Oh yes my Black Mistress, please stretch my butt hole wide open.” Rose pleaded, then she paused for a moment as a thought came to her. Then she put the camera down, got onto the bed, bent over so she was face down with her ass sticking up at her black mistress, and then said, “Please my Black Mistress, fuck my tight little butt hole. Stretch the hole I shit from wide open so you can fuck it hard and deep. Please, I want this little hole of mine to get fucked. Doesn’t it look good my Black Mistress? Doesn’t my ass hole look nice and fuck-able? Don’t you just want to shove your big black cock in this tiny little butt hole of mine so you can fuck my pale ass really hard for your pleasure? I know I do. I know I want my butt hole stretch wide open by you my Black Mistress. Please stretch my butt hole wide open and then pound my pale little pooper so hard that you leave my ass hole gaping open for weeks!”

Beyonce let Rose beg for a little while so she could stare at Rose’s exposed puckered hole, that nice tight butt hole on perfect display thanks to Rose continuing to spread her milky cheeks as she begged. Then pretty much without warning Beyonce pulled her strap on out of Anne’s mouth, lent down so she was face to face with her new white bitch and then growled, “Go eat your fellow white bitch’s ass. I wanna see you munching on that pale butt, getting your little friend’s shit hole all nice and wet so it’s nice and easy for me to get my cock up her white ass.”

There was a brief pause, not because Anne was hesitant to obey but because she was feeling so overwhelmed from first her ass and then her mouth being fucked it took a few seconds for her to convince herself to move. When Anne did she was quick, but apparently not quite enough.

“Move it bitch!” Beyonce barked, smacking Anne’s ass hard.

Anne yelped and move faster, crawling over to Rose as fast as she could and then literally burying her face in between the other pale skinned woman’s ass cheeks.

Rose had managed to talk Anne into licking her ass a few times and while it wasn’t nearly as bad as Anne had imagined it was far from her favourite act. In fact it was her least favourite, especially when compared to everything else she had done with Rose like eating pussy, having her pussy eaten by the extremely skilled woman, tit sucking, etc. It was selfish but she even preferred having Rose’s tongue buried in her butt. That had always been very pleasurable. However she started licking Rose’s ass hole so eagerly, and maybe even desperately, Anne wouldn’t be surprised if the dark skinned singer mistook this for her favourite act.

As she frantically lapped at Rose’s butt hole Anne momentarily wondered what had gotten into her. She didn’t wonder for long as she quickly realised that thanks to giving Beyonce’s dildo a blow job Anne found herself incredibly turned on again. More to the point she felt an overwhelming urge to please Beyonce… her black mistress, the dark skinned goddess who had shown her what wonderful pleasure could come from taking it up the butt. At this moment Anne would have probably done anything to please her black mistress. As such, even though it was very perverted, rimming Rose’s butt hole didn’t even seem like a big deal, which just proved how corrupted Anne had become.

Enjoying her new depravity Anne pressed her face deeper in between Rose’s ass cheeks in an attempt to push her tongue into the other woman’s ass hole. When that didn’t work Anne pulled back, spat on Rose’s tight rosebud and then used her tongue to lather the spit into the tiny anal ring. Anne repeated that process, then began sucking on the puckered hole, constantly switching between that and long licks as Rose moaned in approval.

“MMMMMMMMM, fuck yeah lick my butt hole you little bitch!” Rose moaned, continuing to spread her ass cheeks so Anne’s mouth and tongue got as much access to her ass hole as possible, “Ohhhhhhhh yeeeeesssssss, tongue that little rear hole. Mmmmmmmmm yeah get that fucking tongue in my shitter. I wanna feel you licking my rectum walls you dirty little butt muncher! Yeahhhhh, not so prim and proper now are you? Not when you’re licking my ass hole while your own ass hole is fucking gaping open like you just had a baseball bat shoved up it! OOOOOOOOOOH, oh fuck yes, that’s it you fucking ass licking whore, lick my ass hole just like that. OOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!”

To Rose’s delight every word out of her mouth seemed to make Anne more desperate to get her tongue up her ass. It even made Anne begin bobbing her head back and forth with her tongue outstretched so she was literally using it to fuck Rose’s ass. At first the tongue just banged into Rose’s saliva covered ass hole, but after half a dozen words of encouragement Rose found herself crying out joyfully as Anne finally succeeded in pushing her tongue inside Rose’s tight rear ring.

The tongue didn’t go in very far, but it was far enough for Rose to happily groan, “OOOOOOOH FUCK YEAH! Mmmmmmmmm, fuck yeeeeeessssssss, get that tongue deep inside me Anne! Get that tongue deep inside my ass hole! Mmmmmmm, fuuuuucccccckkkkkk, yeahhhh fucking do it you little ass munching slut! Fucking eat that perfect ass of mine like you eat my pussy. And, mmmmmmm, you know what that means don’t you? Yeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh you fucking know you little lezzie bitch! You know that means you need to tongue fuck my ass like you do my cunt! Mmmmmmmmm, fuck that other slutty hole of mine just like I made you love tongue fucking my snatch!”

Over the last week Rose had been doing her best to get Anne to eat her ass with the same enthusiasm that she ate her pussy. Until now Rose had been unsuccessful because Anne had been hesitant to embrace her kinky side. It had taken a lot of pushing just to convince Anne to submit her virgin ass hole to Beyonce, and possibly become the black singer’s bitch. Luckily not only had Anne now seemingly embraced anal sex and Beyonce as her new black mistress but her kinky side in general, which definitely seem to include ass licking.

Even now as her tongue was just about entering Rose’s ass Anne was continuously pulling her tongue out to spit on the puckered hole or give it a nice long lick or even wrapping her lips around it to give it a little suck. Anne constantly switched between these tactics, maximising Rose’s pleasure so much Rose actually felt a orgasm approaching. Of course that was at least partly due to watching her black mistress take Anne’s anal cherry and then give the other pale skinned girl one hell of a first-time ass fucking. Not that Rose really cared much about the reason, the point was it felt like just a little more stimulation would make her cum.

Unfortunately as eager as Anne now was she either wasn’t skilled enough to realise Rose was getting close to cumming or too lost in her sudden lust for Rose’s butt to notice. Either way Rose wasn’t able to resist the temptation to let go of one of her ass cheeks, move her hand down to her clit and start frantically rubbing it.

Rose was expecting Beyonce to yell at her. After all she hadn’t been given permission to touch herself. She might even get a spanking for it. But the punishment was worth it if Rose could just make herself cum, and it felt like she was moments away from that.

However before Rose could cum she was surprised to hear her black mistress call out, “That’s it you greedy little slut, finger that nasty slut pussy! Rub your horny little clitty! Make yourself cum while your fellow white bitch’s tongue is up your ass so that pale little butt of yours is all relaxed and ready to take my big black cock!”

During this command surprised Rose so much that she actually stopped in her tracks for a few seconds. Then she grinned wickedly, moved her other hand from her ass cheek to her pussy, slammed a couple of digits inside herself while still rubbing her clit, then yelled out, “You heard OUR Black Mistress, make me cum you fucking butt muncher! Mmmmmmmmm, fucking slam my ass with your tongue while I’m slamming my cunt with my fingers! Ohhhhhh fuck, make sure both my slutty little holes get fucked goooooooooodddddddd! Mmmmmm, fuck yeeeeeesssssss, eat my ass while I fuck my pussy. Come on you dirty little dyke, ooooooh mmmmmmmm fucking eat that ass!”

Beyonce watch with a big grin on her face as Anne spent a few minutes with her face literally disappeared in between Rose’s ass cheeks. Then Anne seemed to try motor boating those milky cheeks before using her own hands to spread them wide apart so she could once again get as much access to Rose’s ass hole as possible.

Meanwhile now she had permission to make herself cum, with a little help from Anne of course, Rose was fingering herself at a more steady pace, clearly taking a moment just to enjoy the feeling of Anne’s tongue in her little bubble butt.

Beyonce loved watching a pair of white girls licking each other’s asses, but on this occasion she was having a lot of extra fun by taking photos of the rim job, the first one she had ever seen Anne give. Of course this wasn’t just about watching one white girl lick another’s ass hole for Beyonce. This was also about admiring the fantastic work she had done on stretching Anne’s butt hole wide open, Beyonce feeling like she just couldn’t take enough pictures of that only moments ago virgin ass hole now gaping so wide she could see deep into the actress’s bowels without even needing to use the zoom on her camera. Not that she didn’t use it of course, Beyonce taking dozens of close-up shots of Anne’s face buried between Rose’s pale cheeks and of course the gaping crater in between Anne’s pale cheeks.


Luckily Beyonce replaced the film and got in position just in time to catch the look of pleasure washing over Rose’s face as she came, Rose slamming her ass back against Anne’s eager tongue as she slammed her fingers in and out of herself and practically attacked her clit with her thumb.

Before Rose had a chance to recover Beyonce pushed Anne out of the way, pressed her strap on firmly against Rose’s ass hole and ordered, “Spread your ass cheeks and beg for this cock up your white ass you little anal slut!”

Quickly obeying Rose reached back, spread her ass cheeks and began begging, “Please my Black Mistress, fuck my slut ass! My little white ass hasn’t known the joy of getting filled with black cock for soooooooo long. Mmmmmmmm, my butt hole is fucking aching to be stretched open by my Black Mistress’s big black cock. I want it sooooooooo fucking bad. I fucking need it! Please my Black Mistress shove that big black cock up my slutty white ass so that I can be your little anal slut again! Please… make me your anal slut again. My slutty white ass needs the type of hard fucking that only you can give my Black Mistress, so please fuck your anal slut’s bitch ass! Butt fuck me until OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH FUCK!”

Rose’s begging ended with a long moan as her black mistress rammed forward, making her ass hole stretch wide enough to take the head of the dildo in one hard thrust. The next few thrusts were slower and more gentle but Beyonce was noticeably less gentle with Rose when compared with Anne. Not that Rose minded of course. In fact Rose rather enjoyed the slight bit of pain, which was nothing compared to the little sparks of pleasure she was already receiving, which only promised more to come.

Thanks to Beyonce’s slow but steady pace it wasn’t long before the singer’s hips were pressed against the actress’s ass cheeks, Rose moaning as she felt every inch of her black mistress’s cock deep inside her bowels. Then she moaned again as Beyonce began sodomising her, that big, thick cock beginning to slowly slid in and out of Rose’s ass hole causing her back passage to quiver in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

It had been a few months since her last marathon butt pounding session with her black mistress so it took a little longer than Rose was expecting for her rectum to relax enough so that the pain faded into a dull ache. However, almost as if her butt suddenly remembered what it was supposed to do in this situation, Rose found that once her shit pipe started to seriously relax the dull ache didn’t last long and soon every little movement in her ass was giving her nothing but pleasure, so much so Rose soon found herself moaning like the anal whore Beyonce had turned her into.

This of course had Rose fondly remembering all the women she had ass fucked, each one of them happily moaning like anal whores for her. Most of the time it seemed like a lifetime ago, or like it happen to someone else, but oddly enough whenever her black mistress was fucking her ass Rose could remember it as clear as day. Of course what she remembered most was seducing her Charmed co-stars, taking their anal cherries and constantly butt fucking them, among other things, until finally Rose had lost her own anal cherry at the hands of her black mistress and become her little white bitch.

Whenever she could remember her old life as a butt busting girl tamer like this Rose thought about trying to go back to her old life again. It had certainly been almost unbearable to have Anne Hathaway acting so submissively towards her for a week and not take her anal cherry. Alyssa and Holly didn’t respect her as a top anymore and treated her as an equal, but with Anne looking at her with such wonder, promising that she would do anything for her, it had all been so amazingly hard not to just wreck her ass. Rose knew it would have been easy to butt fuck Anne, and now she was wondering why she hadn’t. She really should have. And she should tell Beyonce to go fuck herself, or tried to return the favour and take Beyonce’s anal cherry.

Rose’s thoughts of rebellion ended as they always did with the memory of the ecstasy awaiting for her when Beyonce started really hammering her ass. This time the memory was prompted by the feeling of Beyonce starting to pick up the speed of the ass fucking, her hips smacking into Rose’s milky white butt with increasing force and volume which was more than enough to remind Rose exactly why she preferred being an anal whore than a butt buster.

Unfortunately Rose was reminded how frustrating it could be to be Beyonce’s anal whore when the butt fucking slowed down again, prompting Rose to moaning protest, “Noooooo, slam my ass hard. Butt fuck me my Black Mistress!”

“Greedy bitch.” Beyonce chuckled, smacking Rose’s ass lightly, “Anne hasn’t even tasted the deepest part of your ass yet.”

Anne’s mouth fell open, mostly in nervousness this time, as Beyonce suddenly pulled her strap on out of Rose’s butt hole and pointed that fake cock in her direction.

Anne wanted to please her black mistress more than anything else in the world, but while tasting her own ass had been surprisingly enjoyable the idea of tasting the deepest part of Rose’s ass had the actress hesitating. That hesitating caused Beyonce to scowl at her, but instead of being intimidated or anything like that Anne found herself almost heartbroken at the idea that she was disappointing her mistress.

Beyonce slowly opened her mouth, but Rose beat her to the punch, “Come on Anne, taste my sweet ass! Get your lips around that big black cock! Suck every drop of my delicious ass juice off of that huge dick so our Black Mistress can get back to fucking my slutty ass!”

As Rose was talking Anne began to lower her head down, her heart fluttering as Beyonce smiled at her.

Having the presence of mind to hand over the camera to her mistress on her way to her destination Anne was rewarded with another smile, then another as she parted her lips to take the head of the big toy inside her mouth.

Again the taste wasn’t all that unpleasant, and as Anne began sucking on her black mistress’s cock she even found that she grew to like the flavour. But her real motivation throughout this was the look of pleasure on Beyonce’s face, Anne working as hard as she could to give the best blow job possible just so that she could please her black mistress.

Beyonce was mildly impressed just how eagerly Anne once again took that big cock down her throat, this time flavoured in Rose’s ass juice. Beyonce was equally impressed that Anne didn’t hesitate to spread Rose’s ass cheeks and wait patiently for her to feed her some more of Rose’s butt when Beyonce pulled the toy out of her mouth.

Repeating the ATM process over and over Beyonce had a hell of a time constantly making Anne go ass to mouth, verbally abusing her every step of the way, “Mmmmmmm yeahhhhhhh, suck Rose’s ass off my cock you little ATM slut! Ooooooooooh fuck yeah, good little ass to mouth whore! Clean every inch of that cock and cover it with your own saliva so when I shove it back up your fellow bitch’s butt Rose is going to have a ass full of your spit and you’re going to have a mouthful of sweet butt juice! And you’ll love it because you’re a ATM slut now, just like all my other bitches!”

It was a tremendous thrill for Beyonce to have a new white bitch so willingly submitting to her. Sure Anne wasn’t completely fully trained, but then again even some of her earliest conquests remained reluctant even after all these years to go ass to mouth. All of them did it, Beyonce wouldn’t tolerate a bitch that wasn’t willing to taste some ass, but some only did it to please her while others became completely addicted to the taste of ass. Others were addicted to the taste of ass when she met them, like Rose.

Rose had been one of those types of doms who loved spending hours in between their sub’s ass cheeks, thoroughly rimming their butt hole before a nice hard butt pounding session, or sometimes even just for the fun of it.

To Beyonce the tasting of ass should surely be a submissive thing. She certainly knew the thrill of making a bitch bury her face in between her big round chocolate cheeks and worship her ass hole. That was one of Beyonce’s favourite things to do in the world, as was making sluts lick each other’s ass holes, and suck the taste of their own ass or another bitch’s ass off of her strap on.

Any woman who love the taste of ass was no dom. If they claimed they were then they were just delusional.

Rose had once delusionally thought that she was a dominant woman but Beyonce had been kind enough to put her in her place. Now Rose embraced her true nature as a submissive little lesbian slut who recognised her addiction to the taste of ass as the sign of a natural place as a bitch.

All of a sudden Beyonce was awoken from her thoughts by Rose’s big mouth, “Can I have a taste of my ass my Black Mistress?”

“Sure, when I’m done butt fucking you.” Beyonce murmured dismissively.

“Awww, come on! Please? I wanna taste my slutty ass on my Black Mistress’s big fucking cock!” Rose whined, “Please? It’s not fair that Anne gets to hog all the yummy butt juices. Mmmmmmm, and I know you love feeding your white bitches their own asses almost as much as I love tasting my slutty ass. So, come on my Black Mistress, ohhhhhhhh, feed me my own ass! Show Anne exactly what kind of an ATM slut I am!”

“Well, I guess since you brought me Anne’s wonderfully tight little ass hole I could give you a treat… but only if you look Anne in the eye and tell her what a ATM slut you are!” Beyonce said, pulling out of Rose’s rectum.

Barely giving Anne a chance to let go of her ass cheeks Rose turned around, looking her fellow submissive bitch in the eye and said, “I’m a nasty little ATM slut who’s addicted to the taste of her own ass! I loved the taste of your ass hole, and I love tasting the asses of all my Black Mistress’s other white bitches, and my Black Mistress’s beautiful bubble butt has the tastiest little shit hole I’ve ever had the pleasure of licking, but it’s my own flavour I love best. That’s why I’m the nastiest kind of ass to mouth slut. Because I love the taste of other girl’s butts but I’m addicted to my own skanky slut ass!”

With that Rose dived down on the cock, quickly swallowing the first few inches before moaning lustfully as she savoured the taste of the deepest part of her own pale butt.

“Come on slut!” Beyonce growled a few seconds later, deciding Rose was taking too long just sucking on the head of the dildo, “Show your little friend what a great cock sucker you are! I wanna see you take all of that dick down your slutty throat so you can get every drop of your skanky slut ass off of it!”

To Beyonce’s delight her encouragement seem to have the exact effect she was hoping for, Rose easily bobbing her head up and down the shaft until she was deep throating the entire length. With every inch she took into her mouth Rose moaned joyfully as she tasted more of her own slutty butt, the greedy ATM slut sucking extra hard when she was bobbing her mouth up and down on every inch of the cock just to get the last drops of her own skanky slut ass off of the massive bitch tamer.

“MMMMMMMMMMMM, yeahhhhhhhhh, fucking suck that cock!” Beyonce growled lustfully as she grabbed two handfuls of hair and started fucking Rose’s throat, “Suck every fucking inch you fucking slut! Mmmmmmmmmmm, that’s right, show Anne what a great face pussy you make! Show her how a well-trained bitch like you is happy to let their Black Mistress use their mouth like a cunt! Or a white girl’s ass hole! Mmmmmmm fuck, ooooooooh, yessssssss, suck that cock you little cock sucker! Fucking suck that fucking cock!”

Beyonce’s words became increasingly uninventive as she brutalised Rose’s throat, face fucking the other woman for several minutes before pushing her away and making her bend over again for another butt fucking.

Over and over again Beyonce repeated this, face fucking both Rose and Anne, making them taste the deepest part of Rose’s ass everytime. At first she would at least let them give her a blow job for awhile first, but eventually it reached the point where Beyonce went straight from fucking Rose’s ass to fucking one of her bitches’ throats.

Luckily for the two actresses’ precious and now thoroughly brutalised throats it wasn’t long before Beyonce felt like getting down to some serious butt pounding. However she wanted to hear Rose begging her for it. So when she was good and ready, and Rose was in the correct position, Beyonce slapped Rose’s ass so hard it left a hand print and yelled, “YOU WANT YOUR SEXY WHITE ASS FUCKED HARD? I KNOW YOU DO, SO START BEGGING FOR IT BITCH!”


Even when Beyonce started increasing the pace of her thrusting Rose continued begging shamelessly because she knew exactly what her black mistress was capable of and the horny butt slut wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than a complete and total rectum wrecking from her dark skinned goddess.

Luckily for Rose she wasn’t some just broken in anal virgin who Beyonce would feel she needed to prolong the butt fucking for just to show what ecstasy anal sex could bring them. Also luckily for Rose it seemed that her black mistress no longer had the energy or the patience to tease her any longer. Most of all Rose was lucky that the dark skinned goddess didn’t seem to give a fuck whether the actress fucked herself back on the dildo or not, Rose experimenting by doing it gently at first but quickly picking up the pace so that she was slamming her own shitter on the big fake dick.

Instead of denying Rose orgasm, which sadly the star of Charmed had become very used too, when Beyonce started increasing the pace of the sodomy she continued until she was pounding Rose’s pooper with every ounce of her strength. Through it all Rose continued to beg for more. Even when she felt herself approaching orgasm Rose screamed for more, and even though her words were so incoherent that even she had no idea what she was trying to say there was a clear tone of pleasure and un-underlying desperate need for more.

Those incoherent screams of pleasure got so loud they became deafening as Rose felt herself being pushed over the edge of a massive orgasm that had her body trembling and her cum literally shooting out of her pussy in a powerful squirt.

As her mind turned to mush Rose shamelessly slammed herself back on the dildo with every ounce of her strength, ruthlessly impaling her own ass hole on the pleasure giving toy just so her next orgasm would come quickly, which it did. It was as orgasm after orgasm rushed through her and she could focus on almost nothing but that dildo jack hammering in and out of her ass hole Rose remembered exactly why it was she kept submitting to Beyonce, why there wasn’t a single command her black mistress could tell her to do that she wouldn’t obey, why she wished she had submitted to a dominant black woman much sooner. It was because Rose could only receive this type of massive orgasm from getting butt fucked by her black mistress.

Rose would do anything for this pleasure. Rose would walk funny for hours, trying to avoid sitting down at almost all costs as putting weight on her sore butt was agonising. Rose would read lines, privately or even onset while very aware that her ass hole was gaping open. Rose would walk around hoping no one would noticed that her face was wet and smelt like pussy because she was still covered in her black mistress’s cum and cunt cream. Rose would lick the asses of dozens of girls she barely knew and taste their asses on her black mistress’s strap on. Rose would eat her black mistress’s pussy and ass, and the pussies and asses of any woman her black mistress wanted her too. Rose would let herself get gang banged by dozens of girls with strap ons, or by her black mistress’s entire security team.

In fact Rose had allowed all those things to happen, the security guard gang bang really sticking out of her mind at that moment as she recalled the taste of all that cum as all those guys shot their loads into her mouth and down her throat, and the feeling of their cocks exploding in her pale ass and one after the other filling it with semen, all that sperm dripping out of her ass hole for hours afterwards. And Rose would happily do it all again a thousand times just for one of the mind melting orgasms that were now rocking her body and turning her into nothing but a mindless wreck.

Even as the butt fucking became so violent that it literally seemed like Beyonce was trying to ruin Rose’s rectum Anne continued just taking pictures. She did this because no matter how hard the ass fucking became Rose continued screaming in ecstasy, and the look on the other pale woman’s face was one of pure bliss. Besides, Anne could vividly remember the rectum ramming she had just taken, and even though her ass hole was still gaping open and aching Anne found herself wishing it was her pale butt getting brutally fucked. She wished she was on all fours, giving up her white ass to her black mistress, partly for her own selfish pleasure, partly because Anne still found herself yearning to give pleasure to the dark skinned goddess who had broken her and made her the white bitch she was always meant to be.

As it turned out Anne should be careful what she wished for, Beyonce turning to her with eyes burning with lust and screaming, “Bend over and show me your ass hole!”

Quickly obeying Anne turned around and bent over, sticking her ass towards her black mistress. She even gently put down the camera so she could reach back and spread her ass cheeks, giving her black mistress and even better look at her ass hole which Anne could tell was still gaping obscenely after the brutal pooper pounding she had taken.

For a few long moments Anne stayed perfectly still and just listen to the sound of flesh smacking off flesh and Rose’s incoherent cries of pleasure as Beyonce obviously continued to slam fuck Rose’s shit pipe. But after a while Anne’s curiosity got the better of her and she turned her head to look behind her. That was a bit of a strain on her neck but it was worth it to get to again get to see her mistress’s chocolate body pounding into Rose’s milky white butt. This time though Beyonce’s attention wasn’t on Rose, the black singer continuing to effortlessly butt fuck her white bitch as she stood lustfully at Anne’s gaping ass hole.

Ecstatically happy she was pleasing her black mistress Anne obediently stayed still and continued holding her ass cheeks as wide apart as she could. Even as her joints ached she stayed still, enduring the aching actually giving Anne a wicked sense of submissive pleasure as she was doing it for her black mistress. Besides she was too wrapped up in watching the rough butt pounding to care.

However while Anne felt she would endure anything for her black mistress she was relieved to hear Beyonce call out, “Get that sexy white ass over here! Mmmmmmmmm, I want that pale butt right next to this tight little ass hole I’m fucking!”

Not even thinking of hesitating Anne quickly scurried onto the bed and got into the position her black mistress wanted her in, Anne putting her butt right next to Rose’s, hoping that when Beyonce was done fucking that other pale booty the singer would slam that big black dick up Anne’s sore but still eager to be fucked ass.

Anne wouldn’t have to wait that long.

Once Rose was on the edge of another orgasm Beyonce made her move, abruptly pulling her strap on out of Rose’s ass and then slamming every inch of that big dildo into Anne’s ass.

Thanks to the earlier rectum wrecking even the deepest part of Anne’s bowels welcomed the intrusion, Beyonce’s latest conquest crying out joyfully as her back passage was once again filled with long thick black cock. Meanwhile Rose cried out in a mixture of anger, annoyance and disappointment, but Beyonce had done this enough times that Rose knew better than to verbally complain. Instead Rose obediently stayed on all fours with her now thoroughly gaping butt hole ready and very willing to accommodate Beyonce’s cock if her black mistress decided to re-enter her rectum.

Both of these reactions brought a big smile to Beyonce’s face. Anne was taking her cock up her pale ass again and clearly loving it like a good little white bitch, and while she was far from the perfect submissive white bitch Rose was keeping her pale ass in the air and available for Beyonce’s pleasure which after a while was all that mattered to the black singer.

For the first few thrusts Beyonce had paid close attention to Anne’s reactions, making sure her new white bitch was moaning only in pleasure no matter how hard she fucked her ass. After all that would have been counter-productive for Beyonce to fuck Anne’s ass hard if the actress wasn’t ready for it. That might put Anne off anal sex, or worse make her not want to be Beyonce’s white bitch and that was unacceptable because Beyonce never failed to make another woman her submissive little plaything.

Luckily no matter how rough the butt fucking became Anne only screamed increasingly loudly in pleasure, her screams becoming deafening when she came so hard she squirted, her cum covering the bed sheets below.

Beyonce came shortly afterwards, pulled her black dildo out of Anne’s ass hole and slammed every inch of the strap on deep inside Rose’s open and waiting butt hole.

Again one white girl cried out in pleasure while the other cried out in disappointment, although there was no anger or annoyance in Anne’s voice. Beyonce liked that. It showed that either Anne was too overwhelmed to be angry or annoyed, or perhaps just too submissive to be. Either way it was a very good sign, as was the fact that Rose cried out in only disappointment when Beyonce pulled out of her ass to shove her cock back into Anne’s ass.

Beyonce continued this pattern, switching back and forth between the two well stretched white asses in front of her, sometimes any giving only a few thrusts before switching, other times giving one of her bitches a nice hard ass pounding to the point they where about to cum only to switch. Then Beyonce started to only switch when she made one of her white sluts cum, sometimes sodomising them through multiple climaxes before switching to her other bitch’s butt hole.

Soon the three women became completely lost in the pleasure they were receiving from the rough anal sex.

One of the two pale girls would rest her upper body down on the bed while keeping her ass in the air and ready to be fucked. The other would be on all fours, screaming hysterically while slamming herself back on the dildo brutalising her butt, more often than not cum squirting out of her pussy like a fountain. And through it all Beyonce ruthlessly pounded white girl booty, her own cum dripping down her legs as she used her white bitches’ butt holes for her pleasure.

This was the purest heaven for all three women.

Rose and Anne were lost in blissful submission, happily surrendering their asses to their dominating black mistress, hoping that she was receiving as much pleasure as they were.

Also while the thought made her blush Anne hoped that Rose hadn’t been exaggerating. Anne hoped that after this brutal butt fucking her ass hole would remain open for hours, maybe even days. That trying to sit down, use the bathroom, or even just walk around would be agony. That all she would want to do would be lay down on her front until her ass eventually stopped hurting. And Anne hoped… actually wanted that because she wanted to be left with a reminder for as long as possible of this wonderful butt fucking, and the fact that she was now Beyonce Knowles’ white bitch.

Meanwhile Rose knew she had a long night of ass wrecking ahead of her which would probably result in her butt hole still being stretched open in the morning. And if it wasn’t, or wasn’t much, the morning butt fucking session she would get would ensure that her ass hole would be gaping for most of the next day. Not that her butt hole was going to get much chance to close tonight. Neither was Anne’s, both them all but guaranteed to spend most if not all the next 24 hours struggling to shit, sit, or even walk thanks to their aching, well stretched asses. And Rose was looking forward to every agonising second as it would remind her of her place as her black mistress’s submissive little pet, and of course this red hot pooper pounding she was currently taking.

Beyonce wasn’t focusing on the future. Why would she when her present was her own personal idea of heaven. Well, technically that would have required for there to be white girls as far as the eye could see all with their asses ready and waiting to be used for her pleasure, but two milky white asses was more than enough right now to make Beyonce feel like she was in paradise. The constant string of orgasms was also more than a contributing factor to Beyonce feeling like she had made it past the pearly gates, however her increasing exhaustion sadly brought her back down to earth.

Eventually Beyonce was left with a simple choice of continuing the ass fucking until she received so many climaxes that she passed out, which wouldn’t be much longer, or stop while she had enough energy to have her pussy or at least her ass licked. It was an easy choice.

So after one more powerful orgasm Beyonce pulled her strap on cock out of Rose’s ass hole and just stood back and admired her handiwork. The usually very pale asses in front of her were now a light shade of pink thanks to the impact of flesh on flesh during the butt fucking. However it was those poor little poop holes which really got Beyonce’s attention, those extremely abused butt holes so raw and stretched that the singer/actress guessed Rose and Anne would be lucky if their asses ever fully recovered.

That thought gave Beyonce a sadistic feeling of happiness and even pride, as did watching the clearly exhausted Rose rest her upper half down on the bed but as before keeping her ass in the air and available for her black mistress’s pleasure.

“Stay still bitches!” Beyonce murmured hoarsely as she quickly retrieved her camera from where it had been left lying forgotten on the floor.

“Yes my Black Mistress.” Anne and Rose said softly and almost simultaneously as their black mistress started taking pictures of their gaping ass holes.

After half a dozen shots of those well violated butt holes Beyonce opened her mouth to give her bitches a command. However before a word could escape Beyonce’s lips Rose reached back and spread her ass cheeks as wide as she could, giving Beyonce an even better look into the deepest depth of Rose’s rectum. Then, after noticing what Rose was doing, Anne did the same, pulling apart her own butt cheeks to expose herself even more for her black mistress’s pleasure.

This act of submission had Beyonce grinning with such pleasure it was a couple of seconds before she even started taking pictures again. When she did Beyonce took even more than before, including plenty of close up shots of those gaping butt holes and a wide shot of both white girls spreading their butt cheeks for her which Beyonce was sure was going to become one of her favourite photos in her book of bitches.

However as much as Beyonce loved taking photos of, and just staring at, those two thoroughly abused white asses she was horny for more fun, and had a dildo in need of cleaning.

“Get over here and suck my cock you two little bitches!” Beyonce cried out, “I want both your blow job lips on my cock, cleaning it of all your skanky butt juices.”

After Beyonce’s first sentence Rose started moving. By the time Beyonce had finished her second sentence Rose was on her knees in front of her black mistress and greedily swallowing the head of the big fake cock which had just finished giving her so much pleasure.

Rose moaned joyfully, her eyelids even fluttering as she tasted the deepest part of not only her own ass but Anne’s ass too. It gave her such perverted pleasure to taste such a deep part of her own ass and Anne’s ass that Rose actually stopped still in her tracks, not even sucking on the cock in her mouth for a few seconds. Then she sensed someone dropping down next to her.

Without needing to look Rose realised it was Anne and, suddenly feeling very greedy, created a tight seal with her lips and began sucking as hard as she could.

Rose knew it was selfish but she wanted all those yummy ass juices for herself, and in that moment she didn’t want to be denied.

However while Rose was sucking hard on the first few inches of the shaft Anne was lowering her lips down to the base. At first Anne just lightly kissed the bottom of Beyonce’s cock but soon she was covering it with her mouth from the side and sucking it just as hard as Rose was sucking the head.

Anne had no idea she was upsetting Rose by stealing some of the delicious ass juice, but if she had known she wouldn’t have cared.

All Anne cared about in that moment was pleasing her black mistress.

As she slid her lips up and down the dick, covering it with her mouth and sliding her tongue around it to make sure she got every little bit of butt juice, Anne looked up lovingly at her black mistress, hoping against hope she would see a sign that she was pleasing the dark skinned goddess.

To Anne’s delight not only did Beyonce looked down at her lustfully but Beyonce also began to give her and Rose encouraging words, “Mmmmmmmmmmmm, oooooooh yeahhhhhhhh, fucking suck that dick! Taste both your slutty pale asses all over the big fucking cock that just ruined both your butt holes and turned them into gaping messes! Shit, your ass holes will probably never completely close again, but you don’t care do you you little ATM sluts? No, you don’t care that your shit holes have been destroyed, or that you’re both acting like shameless sluts, because all you care about is cleaning all your skanky butt juices off my big cock. As it should be. Mmmmmmmmm, my white bitches should always be more preoccupied with pleasing their Black Mistress than their own welfare, even the welfare of those black cock depositories you white girls call your ass holes!”

Beyonce continue to give words of encouragement as Anne and Rose continued sucking her dick. Eventually, with a little encouragement, both bitches switched places, giving Anne a chance to bob her head up and down on the first few inches of the dildo while Rose sucked on the base, both broken white sluts making sure that the other didn’t miss any precious butt juice.

Beyonce caught it all on camera, the award-winning singer loving every moment of her bitches worshipping her cock. However while there was a little bashing on her clit, and more than a little mental stimulation, it would take a long while for this to make her cum.

What the cock sucking succeeded in doing instead was relight the fire in Beyonce. It may sure she had enough adrenaline for at least one more round, but also made sure she was so horny she was in no mood for any slow and gentle shit. No, she wanted some serious action and then she wanted to cum. However while adrenaline was pumping through her body Beyonce didn’t have the energy to keep using the strap on.

Luckily Beyonce had something else in mind, “Ok bitches, I think you got all your slutty ass juices off my dick. Now how about you share it with each other? Come on, kiss. I wanna see you two pretty little actresses making out like you’re in a dyke version of Brokeback Mountain. Mmmmmmm, yeah, kiss like you just can’t quit each other!”

Beyonce had intended for the latest demand to be a distraction for the other two women. However she ended up distracted herself when Rose grabbed hold of the side of Anne’s head and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Beyonce was even pretty sure Rose immediately shoved her tongue into Anne’s mouth, and even if she didn’t she was certain the two actresses started tongue wrestling shortly afterwards.

It made for an extremely beautiful sight, one which Beyonce wasn’t ashamed to get lost in for a few minutes. However Beyonce also wasn’t ashamed that it was a sight that made her want to fuck the other women even more, the Grammy-winning singer eventually taking enough of her focus away from the two beautiful actresses fun enough to unstrap the dildo and toss it aside.

Once the strap on was discarded Beyonce watched her two bitches kissing for a little while longer then yelled out, “Ok, stop kissing… I SAID STOP… good sluts. Now Anne, lay down. It’s time for your first taste of sweet black pussy.”

The two actresses were reluctant to break apart but Anne was very eager to lie down on her back and allow Beyonce to slowly lower her pussy down onto her face.

Before Beyonce’s twat was even lightly resting down on top of her Anne was licking her black mistress’s cunt, her tongue shooting out of her mouth to slide over Beyonce’s pussy lips when they were about a inch away from her. Anne licked thoroughly, sliding her tongue all over Beyonce’s outer lips, teasing her clit, and even gently pushing a little into her black mistress’s wet love hole. However Anne’s eagerness seemed to go unappreciated.

“Come on slut, lick me!” Beyonce barked, grinding her cunt into Anne’s face, “Fuck, didn’t Rose teach you to eat pussy better than this? Or were you just a crappy student? Awww, what’s the matter? More of an anal slut then a pussy slut? Mmmmmmmmm, that’s ok, when I’m done with you you’ll be both! You’ll be both an eager little slut who loves taking it in the butt and a cunt craving rug muncher who loves having her face buried in a nice wet pussy!”

Anne felt discouraged by Beyonce’s remarks but use them to motivate herself to try harder. After all despite being a virgin to lesbian sex only a week ago Anne had spent most of her time in the past seven days with her face buried between Rose’s legs or Rose using that wicked mouth and tongue of hers to drive Anne wild, and in all that time Rose had definitely taught Anne more than just how to give a gentle cunt lapping.

With that in mind Anne drove her tongue as deep into Beyonce’s twat as it would go, forcing a huge moan of pleasure from her black mistress’s lips.

Not giving the other woman a chance to recover Anne began tongue fucking her relentlessly, just short sharp thrusts at first but then quickly beginning to move her tongue around inside Beyonce’s cunt, searching for her black mistress’s most sensitive areas. And just to make sure she increased the intensity of her black mistress’s pleasure while searching for all those sweet spots inside the other woman Anne curled her tongue upwards now and again, hitting Beyonce’s G-spot and thus ensuring the ebony goddess would be cumming in no time.

“FUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKK YEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH! That’s more like it slut! Eat that pussy!” Beyonce exclaimed happily, “Mmmmmmmmm, fucking eat that hot black cunt of mine! Ooooooooooohhhhhhhh fuck yeahhhhhhh, gawwwwwwwwwwwd, fucking eat my pussy you little lezzie ho! Ohhhhhhhh, we’ll make an expert muff diver out of you yet! But in the meantime, I feel like tasting some delicious white cunt, and yours looks nice and yummy! Mmmmmmmmmmm yeah, pay close attention bitch because you’re about to get a lesson in rug munching!”

Good on her word Beyonce lowered her mouth down to Anne’s cunt, briefly sliding her tongue over the lips before slamming her tongue inside the other woman’s pussy. Without pausing for a second Beyonce began to tongue fuck the actress so skilfully that it reminded Anne exactly why she was a lesbian now.

Meanwhile a few feet away the woman responsible for sending Anne Hathaway into a pussy loving lesbian was taking it upon herself to capture some photos of this latest sex scene.

Rose was a little annoyed at being basically ignored. On the bright side she was able to get some great shots of Anne licking their black mistress’s pussy lips, the dark skinned goddess grinding down on Anne’s face and, most enjoyably for Rose, Anne’s face becoming increasingly covered in sweet pussy juice. Of course Rose was careful not to miss the ‘money shots’ of her black mistress sliding her tongue over then inside Anne’s pussy for the first time. And after capturing those shots Rose went back and forth between taking close-up shots of the two women’s faces buried in each other’s pussies and some wide shots of the hot 69 action.

Just as she was changing the film Rose heard her black mistress call out to her, “Hey Rose, take a look at this open little butt hole. Mmmmmmmm, I think it needs to be filled again. Ah fuck, eat that fucking pussy you little dyke, ohhhhhhhhh, Rose! Go get me something to stuff this slut’s shit hole! Mmmmmmm, make sure it’s nice and wet.”

Quickly obeying Rose reached down for her black mistress’s strap on but stopped herself. It had been on the floor now, while it didn’t bother Rose she guessed her black mistress would want something else. So she went over to the nearest chest of drawers and went searching for her black mistress’s collection of dildos, which was pretty easy to find. What was a little more difficult was choosing which dildo to present to Beyonce.

It had to be something nice and big if it was going in Anne’s stretched butt hole, and there was a good chance the dildo would be going up Rose’s gaping ass too so Rose had a vested interest in choosing wisely. Besides, displeasing her black mistress was unadvisable and simply not something Rose wanted to do.

Ultimately Rose chose a vibrating dildo that was as long as Beyonce’s strap on but just over a inch wider which Rose knew from experience would feel amazing sliding through Anne’s back passage, and then hopefully her own. But most importantly it came with a little handle for her black mistress’s easy use.

After closing the draw Rose turned to watch her mistress and her fellow slut hungrily devouring each other’s honey holes, the film and TV actress taking the time to give the dildo in her hand a thorough blow job and sliding her hand down to play with her horny cunt while watching the red hot show in front of her. The fake cock was too wide for Rose to be able to take all the way down her throat but she made sure the bottom half was nice and wet sliding her tongue all over it and even spitting on it a little.

Once it was definitely wet enough, and she was pretty sure the other two women were close to cumming, Rose presented her black mistress with the toy dick, “Here you are my Black Mistress, a nice big toy to fill Anne’s slutty ass hole with.”

“About time slut!” Beyonce snapped, snatching the dildo and unceremoniously shoving the first few inches into Anne’s ass hole, “Now make yourself useful and go lick my ass. Mmmmm ohhhhhhh get behind me and start eating that big black butt of mine. Ooooooooh, ahhhhh, mmmmmmm, fuckkkkk, I wanna feel that whore tongue of yours deep inside my big chocolate booty. Mmmmmmmm, oh fuckkkkk, yeahhhhhh!”

The moment she was given the command Rose quickly scurried around so she was kneeling in front of her black mistress’s big fat bubble butt. Not even pausing to admire the sight of those big round cheeks, or the sight of Anne slamming her tongue in and out of Beyonce’s pussy right beneath her own target, Rose grabbed two handfuls of meaty cheeks, spread them wide apart, spat onto her black mistress’s butt hole and then dived down to begin sliding her tongue all over that puckered hole.

That coincided with Beyonce telling Rose that she wanted to feel her tongue deep inside her big chocolate booty, Beyonce only too happy to keep encouraging her pet, “Yeahhhhh, just like that, ohhhhhhh, get your tongue up my big black ass you butt munching slut! Get it deep inside that big black booty! Mmmmmmmmm, I wanna feel you cleaning out my anal walls you little bitch! Yeahhhhh, oooooohhhhhhhh gawwwwwwd yeah, KISS MY FUCKING ASS! Ooooooooh, mmmmmmmmm, slide your fucking lips all over my chocolate cheeks, mmmmmmmm, then get right back to licking my fucking shit hole you fucking slut!”

Beyonce was delighted that Rose was anticipating her commands before she gave them. Of course Rose had eaten her big black ass enough times to know exactly how Beyonce liked it. Not that Rose had really been a slouch the first time. In fact Rose had been a ass licking slut when Beyonce met her, but since then Rose had spent a lot of quality time with her face buried in between Beyonce’s big fat chocolate cheeks. So if anything Beyonce expected nothing less than a first class rim job from her broken bitch, and she definitely got one, Beyonce actually struggling to keep talking trash as she felt those soft lips slide over her meaty ass cheeks and then again felt that tongue lapping at her ass hole, Rose constantly switching back and forth like a good little ass worshipping bitch.

Of course while was somewhat of a struggle Beyonce didn’t stop talking, or forget about her other white slut.

“MMMMMMMMMM FUCK, come on Anne, don’t think I’ve fucking forgotten about you!” Beyonce yelled, roughly smacking Anne’s clit, “Stop slacking off! Ohhhhhhhh, fuck, fucking eat that pussy you worthless little whore! Mmmmmmmm yeahhhhhhhh oh, get that dyke tongue deep in my fucking black pussy and, mmmmmmmmmm, and make me cum all over your little lezzie face you fucking lazy little ho!”

Anne wasn’t the one slacking off. Beyonce was. Beyonce was too busy talking trash and getting lost in her own pleasure to continue playing with Anne’s pussy or at least shove more of that dildo in her pale ass. Meanwhile Anne was frantically slamming her tongue in and out of Beyonce’s snatch, the actress only moving that soft little tongue of hers harder and faster within the black singer’s juicy cunt as Beyonce hurled untrue abuse at her.

While Beyonce’s words had the intended effect of making Anne fuck her pussy harder with that wonderful little tongue the singer/actress had no problem rewarding her white slut for her obedience. Besides, nothing helped Beyonce cum like fucking a couple of nice tight fuck holes.

With that in mind Beyonce started firmly pumping that dildo into Anne’s ass, pushing at least an extra inch inside the other woman’s rectum with each thrust. When it was in halfway she turned the vibrator on and began playing with the speed dial, turning it up and down at random. As she was doing this Beyonce was first sliding on then two fingers into Anne’s needy honey hole, the singer having to lean down and rest the upper half of her body on her arms so she could fuck both of Anne’s holes, the whole time yelling increasingly incoherent words at her sluts, “Yeeeeeeeesssssssssssss, yeeeeessss, mmmmmmmmmm fuuuuuuuuccccccccckkkkkkkkk yyyyyyyeeeeeeeeesssssssss! Oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh gaaaaaaawwwwwwddddddddddd FUCK! FUCKING LICK, MMMMMMMMMM, LICK ME BITCHES! OHHHHHHHHH, FUCKING, MMMMMMMM, FUCK MY HOLES WITH YOUR SLUT TONGUES! FUCK OOOOOOOOOH MMMMMMMMMM, FUCK ME AND AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH, FUCK, MAKE ME CUM, OHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!”

Eventually Beyonce gave up on making sense and instead concentrated on sucking Anne’s clit. The additional pressure, and the fact that Beyonce chose the same moment to shove the whole of the dildo into Anne’s already thoroughly stretched out shit pipe and turned the vibrations onto high while pounding her fingers as hard as she could in and out of Anne’s cunt, had Anne squirting again, this time the actress’s cum covering Beyonce’s face. Not that the singer minded. In fact she removed her fingers from Anne’s pussy just so she could bury her face deep in the gushing gash, Beyonce letting out an animalistic moan as she got drenched by all of Anne’s cum that she didn’t successfully swallow.

Shortly after this Beyonce came too, her cream squirting down onto Anne’s face, practically drowning the poor girl. But again either Rose trained her very well or Anne was just a natural lesbian slut because not only did she swallow as much cum as she could but right after Beyonce was done cumming all over her Anne went right back to fucking her black mistress with her tongue.

This delighted Beyonce to no end, the black singer/actress thoroughly enjoying both white girls pleasuring her as she fucked one of them, Beyonce letting them make her cum over and over again while she did the same thing to Anne. However Beyonce was still more than a little tired from using her strap on to pound both of her white bitches’ pale asses so sadly it didn’t take long for her to start running low on energy again.

Just like last time Beyonce pushed herself to the limit, but also just like last time when she felt like she was going to lose consciousness Beyonce put a stop to the fun. She did that by turning the dildo off, pulling it all the way out of Anne’s ass and rolling over onto her back. As she did Rose quickly moved out of the way so she didn’t get knocked over or anything.

As she tried to regain her breath Beyonce noticed out of the corner of her eye Rose kneeling beside her and swallow the head of the toy cock.

Despite how tired she was Beyonce turned her head to glare at Rose. However Rose was too preoccupied with sucking on the dildo at first, her eyes firmly closed as she moaned in pleasure as she tasted Anne’s ass.

Beyonce waited until Rose was bobbing her head up and down on half of the dildo before pulling away, Rose unwisely glaring at her black mistress for a second or two before quickly lowering her gaze and waiting for further instructions.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to suck this cock.” Beyonce said dryly.

“I assumed you would want someone to do it my Black Mistress.” Rose replied simply.

Beyonce frowned, and then said, “Mmmm… go kneel on the floor with your hands on the bed.”

It was Rose’s turn to frown, her’s a frown of confusion, but she did as she was told.

Turning her attention to Anne, who was sitting up and looking her, Beyonce held out the dildo to her and said, “Finish cleaning this for me then get behind your little friend.”

Quickly obeying Anne took the toy from her black mistress’s grasp, put it in her mouth and started sucking on it. At first she could only taste Rose’s spit but as she began pushing it all the way to the back of her mouth and then down through Anne started tasting the sweet flavour of her own ass. That was when Anne started to moan like Rose had been doing, sucking the dildo with noticeably more enthusiasm and pushing the vibrator much more quickly down her gullet.

It wasn’t long before Anne was deep throating the entire length of the fake dick, the submissive bitch now turned butt slut hungrily slurping the last of her ass juices off the dildo and then trying and mostly succeeding in showing the same enthusiasm in sucking on the now thoroughly saliva coated cock just for the amusement of her black mistress. Anne even allowed her eyelids, which fluttered closed when she had again tasted her butt on the toy, to flickering again to give her black mistress what she hoped was a sexy look.

Beyonce saw it as more of a cute look, which only made her like it more, “Ok that’s enough, now go stick that cock up Rose’s ass.”

This of course made Rose’s eyes light up, “Oh fuck yeah Anne, shove that big toy up my ass! Mmmmmmm, fill up my open, aching to be fucked ass with that big fat toy.”

Anne bit her lip nervously. She had never done anything like that before. She hadn’t even thought to ask if she could use a dildo on Rose, and Rose hadn’t brought it up. Rose had talked about using toys on Anne, but made it clear that she would use them on her once Beyonce had taken Anne’s anal cherry and given her virgin ass hole a nice long stretching out. So despite Rose preparing her for all sorts of depraved and kinky acts this latest command caught Anne completely off guard.

However her black mistress had given Anne a command. What else could she do except obey?

“Come on Anne, shove that thing up my slutty ass and ass fuck me!” Rose demanded impatiently as Anne got down behind her, “Fuck my ass! Ass fuck me! Fucking do it you AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, ooooooohhhhhhhh mmmmmmmmm!”

Anne momentarily felt a little worried at the cry Rose let out when she shoved the first few inches of the toy into the other actress’s gaping butt hole. The cry sounded mostly surprised, obviously the suddenness, but there was also a pain filled undertone. However the surprised and slight painful cry was replaced by moans of pleasure, giving Anne the necessary encouragement for her to start pushing more of the dildo into Rose’s ass.

Rose was also verbally encouraging, “Yesssssssss gawwwwwwd fuck me! Fuck my ass! Mmmmmmmmm, get every inch of that big fucking dick up my ass! I, ooooooooooh, I wanna feel every inch of that big fucking dick deep inside my ass! Mmmmmmmmm stretch my bowels more than they already are! Ohhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk meeeeeee ooooooooooh FUCK MY ASS!”

All this verbal encouragement was doing wonders for Anne. At first she had to just act confident. As she had two great examples of dominant women in the room with her, and some acting experience, Anne felt she didn’t do too badly. However the more Anne fucked Rose’s ass and the more Rose moaned in encouragement with every thrust the more Anne didn’t have to fake confidence. And the more confident she became the better the butt fucking seemed to become.

However Rose’s encouragements remained just as needy and demanding, “Come on bitch, fuck me! Mmmmmmmmm, fucking slam that slutty shitter of mine! Ohhhhhhh, oh fuck yeah, hammer my fucking shit hole! Pound my pooper sooooooooo hard that I never sit or shit right again! MMMMMMMMMMM, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH FUCK, ooooooohhhhhhhhh, yeah make my butt hole open and ready for fucking whenever our Black Mistress wants to use it! Oooooooooooooh, I want my ass hole to always be gaping open so, mmmmmmmmm, so you can ass fuck me for your pleasure whenever you want my Black Mistress!”

Rose looked up lovingly at her black mistress. She didn’t know what she done to deserve this pleasure. In fact Rose had been sure she had displeased her black mistress and was going to get punished.

The vision of being placed over Beyonce’s knee for a nice hard spanking crossed Rose’s mind. Despite how sore and aching her ass was the idea was more than a little appealing. Besides her back passage was aching something fierce from being abused again but the pleasure was worth it. As such Rose would take a spanking from her black mistress right now, no matter how sore her ass was or how hard the butt beating would be, just so long as it please the ebony goddess in front of her.

Of course there was a good chance Beyonce still intended to do just that. After all why else was the singer allowing Rose to get her ass fucked if not to then use that as an excuse to spank her? Not that Beyonce needed an excuse, but if Rose tried to protest her black mistress could easily point out she didn’t complain when her butt was being fucked. And if a spanking was the price to be paid Rose would happily pay it for the feeling of that dildo sliding through her rectum right now, stimulating every inch of her horny shit pipe.

Beyonce watched Anne fucking Rose’s butt for a little while, allowing some time to get her strength back, then the singer/actress asked, “How does it feel Rose? How does it feel to be such a submissive little slut that you’ll let any hot girl with a dildo fuck your slutty ass? Tell me! Tell me how it feels going from a butt pounding girl tamer to a total anal slut? Fuck, just look at you. Thought you were a top, but now here you are bottoming for a bottom!”

Rose whimpered as she looked back at Anne. The other white actress was doing a pretty good job fucking her ass, but if Rose wanted to she could totally turned the tables.

Beyonce was right. Anne Hathaway was a natural bottom. Rose had known it the first time she saw her, and it was yet another reason why she had known Anne would be an easy conquest. But now Rose’s conquest was fucking her ass. A woman she had turned into such a submissive plaything that she was willing to be a present for another woman was now topping Rose. She wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for Beyonce, but that was kind of the point. They were both such little puppets that they would do anything for their black mistress, and that included Rose being a bottom’s bottom.

An incredible rush of humiliation filled Rose’s body. She had thought there was no level she could sink too after all the depraved acts of submission Beyonce had put her through and yet this was a whole new level for the once proud top who at one time had not one but two regular bitches of her own. Now she was a bitch for a bitch. Taking it up the ass for a woman who had been nothing but her little plaything for a whole week. And the worst and the best part of it was how incredibly hot it made Rose feel, this new level of submission she hadn’t even thought about until her black mistress pointed it out making her feel like she was going to cum at any moment.

It also made Rose have a whole new level of respect for her black mistress. Beyonce had made it very clear to Rose exactly who was the real top, Beyonce proving without a shadow of a doubt she was an alpha female and Rose was just her pet. But Rose realised that when she had tried to make Beyonce her bitch she had been playing out of her league and she had never stood a chance. That little contest had been a mismatch in the outcome of her becoming Beyonce’s bitch had been inevitable. Her black mistress knew more about being a top than Rose ever would and having Rose submitting her ass to another submissive was further proof of that.

“Answer me bitch!” Beyonce growled, waking Rose from her thoughts, “Tell me how it feels to give up that slutt ass of yours and let another white bitch make it hers?”

“It feels good my Black Mistress.” Rose moaned, quickly adding, “I love that my Black Mistress has turned me into such a submissive little bitch that, mmmmmmmm, that my Black Mistress’s other submissive little bitches can easily dominate me. Oooooooooh I love being topped by other submissive sluts like Anne. Mmmmmmmm, I made her my little plaything but now I’m her anal slut! Ohhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmm, gawwwwwwd yessssssss, but the truth is she’s not mine and I’m not hers, mmmmmmmmm, we’re both yours! Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh, we’re both your sluts my Black Mistress! Your white bitches! Our white asses belonged to you, oooooooh, so it doesn’t matter if I’m fucking Anne or she’s fucking me, mmmmmmmmmm ohhhhhhhh, because we’re both your white bitches and I love it!”

Part of the ‘Butt Monkey’ series of stories by Robert Furlong


“Okay, Rob. What seems to be the problem?”

My doctor, James Courtney, threw me a weary look as he sat himself down in front of me alongside his desk. No doubt he’d had his fill of the local hypochondriacs and nutters today.

“Well, it’s a bit of strange one, James,” I said, hesitantly.

We had, quite a while ago, despatched with the formality of using each other’s surnames after I’d ran into him a few times in the changing rooms after squash.

“Surprise me,” he said with a smile which looked peculiarly tired on a face which was a good few years younger than mine. I noticed that, above his sideburns, his luxuriant auburn hair was just beginning to be peppered with grey.

“Well, you remember my wife and I divorced… quite a while ago?”

He nodded. Of course he did. He’d had to prescribe me a course of sleeping pills and antidepressants as soon as he’d started here, almost before he’d time to pull on his white coat and stethoscope.

“Well,” I said, pausing to feel my cheeks colour a little as I prepared what I wanted to say. “My sexual interests have taken a… kind of… unusual direction in recent months.”

“Could you be more specific?” he asked.

Okay, Robert, I thought. Time to bite the bullet. You’ve rehearsed this in your head so many times and you know exactly what you want to say.

“I’m developing an interest in other men,” I said flatly.

There. It was out. That felt better, didn’t it?

Didn’t it?

James nodded, thoughtfully.

Perhaps he was a little too young to deal with this. Maybe I should have gone to Dr Darvill instead. I’d worried that old, traditional Dr Darvill would have guffawed at the absurdity of my problem and said it was nothing a daily cold shower and a few rounds on the golf course couldn’t sort out, but maybe —

“That’s not completely unexpected,” James asserted.

“Not unexpected?” I asked in surprise. “You think I’m the type to have gay tendencies…?”

He chuckled, but with a warmth rather than with humour.

“I’m not saying that. It’s just that, after a divorce — especially a bitter and acrimonious one — some men find that they feel disillusioned with the opposite sex and, since viewing homosexual material is so easy on the internet these days, it’s natural that you might feel a curiosity towards –”

“It’s a bit more than that,” I interrupted. “And, in any case, we split up years ago. This isn’t just some rebound thing.”

He nodded. “Okay. So what is it?”

I hesitated again. This was proving to be just as difficult as I’d feared.

“I have a bit of thing about… erm…”

How could one best put this?

After a few seconds I ventured: “other men’s bums.”

“Specifically their bums? Not their genitals, their –”

“Very specifically their bums,” I affirmed.

“You want to have anal sex with another man?” he asked.

“Perhaps in time,” I admitted, feeling a little dirtied by saying that to him. “At least… it’s not out of the question. But my interest has mainly been centred around…”

He threw me a quizzical look, his eyebrows furrowed.

Come on, Rob, I urged myself. You’ve come this far…

“Sniffing them… licking them.”

His curious expression broadened into surprise.

I had surprised him. So there, Dr Courtney.

“The cheeks,” he asked. “Or…?”

“Between the cheeks,” I said, with a slow nod.

“Right…” he said, nodding back. “That’s quite a specific fantasy…”

“It’s not just a fantasy,” I confessed.

“You’ve acted on it?”

I didn’t want to get into the whole story of Guy and me in the hotel — in the sterile setting of the surgery it would have sounded too far-fetched and implausible that such a thing could have happened accidentally — so I told him simply that I’d had “an experience” with another man which I’d found highly arousing.

“And since then, you’ve started wondering what it would be like to repeat what you experienced?”

“Very much so,” I nodded. “I’ve actually found it difficult to think about anything else.”

“Did you ever do anything like this with your wife or any other woman? Did you ever even fantasize about such a thing?”

I shook my head. “No, never. It wouldn’t be something that would interest me at all. With women, I’ve always practiced straightforward vaginal sex, at least when it was offered to me.”

He nodded, throwing me a smile and a shrug which I took to mean I wasn’t the only one who had experienced such unwillingness in the bedroom.

He said, “You said you might like to move onto anal intercourse with another man…?”

“Perhaps at some point.”

“So what about a relationship with a man? An emotional as well as sexual relationship?”

“No!” I said, realising immediately I had sounded rather too emphatic. Calming my voice, I went on: “I don’t want that at all. I still want a woman in my life — that hasn’t changed — I just want…”

“Sex with a man as well?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Just occasionally, maybe. But it’s clearly something which attracts me…”

James thought for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision about what to do.

“While it’s not unusual for a man of your age to discover a side to his sexuality which he wasn’t previously aware of, I’d like to examine you — if that’s okay — to rule out any physiological reasons for what you’re currently experiencing.”

“Yeah… I was hoping you’d do that. You mean hormonal changes, that kind of stuff?”

“Exactly,” he said with a comforting smile. Like this was all perfectly normal. Like all guys my age go through a phase of wanting to lick each other’s butts.

“Could you undress, please?” he asked. “I’ll need you naked in a moment, but for now you can keep on your underwear.”


I hadn’t realised that he’d want me to strip completely. It was suddenly obvious that he’d want to check my balls for abnormalities: why hadn’t that occurred to me?

“It’s okay,” he said, with a reassuring air. “I’ll just need you undressed for a moment or so.”

“Sorry,” I spluttered, standing up. “I’m… er… not really that comfortable about people seeing me naked.”

“No-one will come in here,” he said calmly. “No-one can see through the windows. You have complete privacy in here.”

I nodded, taking off my jacket. “Yeah, okay. Sorry. It’s just a thing I have.”

As I undressed, I thought back to a school medical I’d had in my teens in the nurse’s office, a room not much bigger than this one. Like this room, it had smelt vaguely of latex and disinfectant, and like today there had been a tingling coldness to the air which had made undressing seem even more unpleasant than it might otherwise have been.

For some reason, probably due to some cost-cutting drive, that year they were doing medicals in small groups and so four of us boys had been herded into the small office together. We’d been told to strip to our ‘pants’, as they called the white saggy standard-issue school shop briefs we all wore in those days, and had lined up in front of the local authority doctor who had looked even more cheerless about being there than we had.

I remember glancing at the other boys — none of whom I really knew because our year-group had been sorted alphabetically rather than by class — and noticing that I, as usual, had by far the most prominent bulge in my underwear. The boy at the end of the line had been a big lad with a growth of hair across his chest, and yet even his underpants showed only the smallest suggestion of what was contained inside.

Here we go again, I thought.

I knew the drill; everyone did. We were going to be asked to strip so he could check our balls, and everyone was going to look at how big my penis was, just like they always did.

The three of them would have willies like their little fingers, while mine, even in its limpest state, would hang halfway down to my knees looking as thick as my forearm. They’d have bollocks like wrinkled walnuts, while mine would stick out, blown up to the size of a pair of over-ripe plums. They’d have only a modest fuzz of hair down there, while my pubes would burst forth like some dense, tangled undergrowth from my belly button down past my scrotum.

As I’d stood there in front of the school doctor, I’d felt deeply ashamed. I knew that my genitals had grown disproportionately larger than the other boys because I masturbated so often whereas they were able to resist their urges. After all, what other explanation could there be?

Every morning, as I got dressed in my bedroom, it was getting progressively worse. I was finding it more and more difficult to pack myself into my underwear, struggling to get the flimsy gusset of my briefs to contain my testicles and penis — ideally together — in a way which wasn’t too uncomfortable. It was becoming more and more of a challenge to close the fly of my school trousers over my unsightly bulge and I’d had to endure the embarrassment of asking my mother to replace my zip, not just once but twice. And in the classroom, during lessons, I was having to ask to leave the room to adjust myself every time I could feel I was beginning to develop an erection.

And yet, in spite of the obvious effect it was having on me, try as I might, I simply couldn’t stop playing with myself.

Each night in my bed, no matter how ardently I forced myself to think of other things, my penis would slowly stiffen under the bedclothes, steadily lengthening and thickening until it had outgrown its foreskin and its pink exposed head would dribble clear liquid inside my pyjamas. Whatever I then chose to do — whichever strategy I tried to use against it — the outcome was always the same. Within minutes my hand would be working at full speed underneath the tent I’d made with my bedsheets, my pyjamas would be hitched down around my thighs, a film of sweat would be forming on my forehead and a guilty smile would be slowly broadening on my mouth.

I knew full well what I was doing — my mother and brother had warned me of it often enough — and that only ‘bad boys’ shared my forbidden pleasures. I’d heard all about such bad boys, for many years, oblivious that I would one day secretly share their company. Bad boys started out as good boys, just like I had, but when their peckers started growing hard, they’d find themselves unable to stop rubbing them.

Soon those boys had rubbed themselves so much that their genitals had grown, like mine, too big to for their underwear. Soon their balls were so swollen with their seed that they would chafe, like mine, against their thighs. Soon they had sprouted so much hair down there that it had spread, like mine, right up into their bum cracks.

I knew full well that every time I masturbated, my organ would grow a little bit bigger. That every time I released my seed by my own hand, my balls would refill to be that little bit plumper. And that the more I gratified myself in such a way, the more hair I would grow down there as a way of telling the world how dirty I was.

And yet, I simply couldn’t stop. In every other respect, I regarded myself as a good boy. I tried hard at school, did well in my exams and fulfilled all of my chores around the house. I steered clear of girls and was respectful to my elders. I even ate all my greens. On top of that, though, I liked to rub my penis whenever it got hard — which it very often did — and that, by some cruel decree, seemed to be all that mattered.

So here I was in my school medical, alongside three lads I didn’t even know, when the inevitable happened: “Right, boys. Take off your pants, please.”

And so we did. We yanked them down and stepped out of them, all cringing with embarrassment. I blushed when I realised my briefs had a noticeable stiff patch on them from when I’d nipped to the boys’ toilets during Maths and had taken the opportunity of finding an empty cubicle (and having forgotten about the medical) to quietly attend to myself. Glancing at the other lads, though, I saw that their underwear was — for a variety of other reasons — a lot worse for wear than mine and had felt that rare combination of relief and disgust.

However, the worst was yet to come.

Inevitably, as all boys do when they find themselves naked together, we glanced to see what each other was brandishing. Even the doctor ran his gaze across our row of genitals, his eyebrows betraying a flicker of surprise when he got to mine.

The other boys were all much of a muchness: they were clearly the sort of good boys who had accepted what their penises were for and what they were strictly not for. I don’t remember specifics, but they were all as they should be: small and insubstantial; foreskins nicely puckered; testicles discreetly tucked away; all framed by the merest dusting of downy hair. All exactly as nature intended; all very proper.

And then there was me.

I stood there, staring down at the carpet with my cheeks burning. I was a thin youth, pale and scrawny, and yet emerging from between my legs were genitals which would look generous even on a grown man; the sort of thick, hairy cock and heavy, prominent bollocks one might expect on a great, looming brute. My cock was so long and fat that my foreskin wasn’t long enough to cover the head completely: the tip of it, dry and pink and with its broad slit exposed, peered out from its gaping end.

There was nothing I could do to hide what I had: it was visible for everyone to see and so that everyone could deduce from its abundance what I enjoyed doing to it so much.

One the lads whispered, “Look at Furlong’s knob! Jesus…”

Someone else whispered, “They call him Footlong!”

I blushed a deeper shade of red.

The doctor would know that, of the four boys in front of him, one of us was a compulsive masturbator. He’d already deduced, I was sure, which one of us went to sleep most nights soaked in his own seed. Which one of us directed the shower head towards the curtain most mornings so that his parents couldn’t hear the slapping of his wrist against his thigh. Which one of us habitually sneaked our mother’s catalogue up to his bedroom so he could jerk his foreskin back and forth while he pored over the women’s lingerie pages.

I glanced up at the doctor and he threw me a small smile. In retrospect, I realise he was trying to let me know I was okay; that it didn’t matter a jot what was between my legs; that I was different through no fault of my own. But at the time I saw it as a sneer. I imagined he had a big red stamp which he would apply to my medical record when we’d filed out from the room: CHRONIC MASTURBATOR.

He walked along the line towards me, holding each pair of balls while the lads attached to them forced a cough.

When he got to me, he made a joke. He probably thought it would ease the tension I was feeling and make the others feel less inadequate. But it was a line which the boys in my school would use to taunt me for months thereafter.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to get my hand around these!”

The others tittered while I went purple and stared downwards. He might as well have announced to the assembled crowd that I had balls like a bull elephant.

He cupped a hand with some difficulty around my testicles and gently fondled them as he manoeuvred them into the required position.

Before he could ask me to cough, I felt the unthinkable begin to happen. The sensation of the doctor’s fingers on my balls, cold and mechanical in itself, was having a profound effect on me. In front of the other three boys, flopping against the doctor’s wrist, my cock began to swell.

I glared down at it, mortified, and saw the thick ridge at the base of its helmet becoming more pronounced and the foreskin slowly easing back to expose even more of the swelling pink head. The shaft of it was beginning to thicken and I could see it lengthening steadily, pushing forwards against the doctor’s wrist.

I couldn’t believe this was happening! What could I do to stop it?

I tried to think of all the things which I disliked; things which upset me. My brother and his god-awful friend Aiden. Having to kiss my ancient Aunty Ruth who had bits of skin sticking to her prickly beard. The smell of the dead badger we’d found half-decayed in the woods.

Nothing I could muster up had any effect. My cock had, as usual, a mind of its own.

The doctor seemed to notice my reaction and said, hastily, “Just give me a quick cough and you can get dressed again. There’s a good lad.”

Jesus, it was starting to stand up.

However uncomfortable I’d felt a few moments ago, standing there showing everyone I had the cock and balls of a compulsive jerk-artist, as my brother often put it, would pale into insignificance compared to what I was about to feel.

It would be round the school in minutes.

“Furlong got a hard-on when the doctor touched his nuts.”

“He kept looking at our dicks and next thing he had a stiffie.”

“He wanted the doctor to wank him off.”

The doctor looked up at me, uncertain as to why I was hesitating. “Come on, son. Just a quick cough and then you can pull your pants back on.”

I tried to cough but found that my throat was too choked up.

I tried again but now I had the image of being masturbated by the doctor in my head. Him saying, “Come on, son. Now that your balls have grown, we’ve just got to collect some spunk from you. There’s a good lad.”

I tried another cough, desperate for this to end, but it came out as a grunt. I imagined him holding a sample pot in front of my cock, pounding at my shaft with an experienced rhythm and grinning at the others while they gawped on. Me staring back at them, scarlet from the neck up, while my balls released thick jets of my strong-smelling seed into his glass jar.

I forced the loudest cough I’d ever done and the doctor jumped back. My cock stood upward at a forty-five degree angle, the foreskin continuing to retract from the reddening head. I could smell its crisp, sexual tang starting to waft around the room as it gradually hardened.

The other boys, mercifully, seemed oblivious to its misdemeanours. They were nudging each other and looking over at the doctor’s notes on his desk to see what he’d written about them.

“That’s great,” the doctor said, quickly, strolling back across the room. “No problems at all for any of you. You can all get dressed.”

I turned my back to the others and hitched up my semen-spattered briefs as quickly as I could. I directed my cock up towards my hip, giving it space to lengthen further along the waistband as I grabbed for my trousers.

One of my balls was hanging out through the leg of my underpants but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. To go somewhere people couldn’t see that I had, as my mother had once put it, depravity between my legs.

Now, standing in front of Dr James Courtney in my boxer shorts, I felt another flush of discomfort which I knew to be a leftover from that unpleasant experience and from the years of hearing negative things about my genitals when I was growing up.

After James had finished running a few standard checks on my eyes, ears and throat, had listened to my breathing and heartbeat with his stethoscope and tested my reflexes, he asked me to take off my shorts.

The memory of the school medical flashed back to me again. I hadn’t thought about it in years and yet being here, in this small consultation room, had brought it back to me as vividly as if it had happened last week. I wondered why I had imagined being masturbated by the doctor — the male doctor — in front of the other boys. Had that been an early foreshadowing of what was I was now going through? The first inconspicuous swell of a wave that was only now crashing onto the beach?

I pulled down my boxer shorts and tossed them onto the chair with the rest of my clothes. They weren’t the best pair I owned: if I’d known James was going to ask me to strip I’d have worn my stripy blue pair which had the prestige of being granted Jake’s seal of approval. (He’d once seen them when my dressing gown hadn’t been fastened up properly and had proclaimed them, with some surprise, to be “not too bad”, before correcting his verdict to “well, not as grodey as everything else you wear.”)

My cock drooped down in front of my thighs, looking slightly more shrivelled than usual in the chill of the room, but nevertheless making me tingle with embarrassment from its conspicuous length and thickness. I was by now well aware that my size revealed nothing about my sexual habits, but I was still very conscious of the way the swollen head made an obvious helmet shape underneath my foreskin, and the way my balls hung down so heavily, as if announcing to the younger man how bloated and full with my semen they were.

I also knew, of course, that James wouldn’t make any kind of judgements about me based on the huge phallus I happened to be bearing, but I nevertheless felt very self-aware as I stood there, naked, in front of him. It was so excruciating, almost humiliating, for a guy like me — a quiet, gentle man; average and unassuming in every other way — to have something I still subconsciously regarded as gratuitously vulgar and which seemed to have almost bestial proportions, sprouting like some third misshapen limb from between my legs.

James didn’t grant my manhood more than a fleeting glance and managed to resist greeting it with one of the usual old chestnuts: “You don’t get many of those to the pound,” or “You’ll have someone’s eye out with that.” I figured he must have seen just about every size and shape of male appendages it was possible to see, or perhaps he was rather well-built himself in that area and so its unusual size didn’t really figure on his radar. I tried to remember if I’d noticed how he was packed when I’d seen him in the changing rooms after I’d played squash, but back then I’d been oblivious to the appeal of the male body and wouldn’t have picked up on such things.

After snapping himself into some latex gloves, he came across to me and apologised in advance if his hands were cold.

I smiled stupidly, feeling painfully self-conscious to be naked in front of him.

He took my penis in one hand and lifted it away from my balls. Again, I was relieved that he didn’t make some trite joke about how large it felt between his fingers, but just cupped my scrotum with his other hand and gently examined each of my well-stocked testicles in turn for unusual signs.

It felt good to have my cock and balls fondled like this by another man — surprisingly good, in fact. Since being a teenager in the school nurse’s office, I’d had many years to perfect the art of controlling myself when I was aroused by something, but even with all that practice I found it quite a struggle not to respond to James’s remarkably nimble fingers.

I was reminded of being masturbated, many years earlier, by Carl, the husband of my ex-wife’s college friend, who had followed me into the bathroom. That had also felt good, and I would probably have been enjoyed returning the favour if I hadn’t climaxed first. It hadn’t occurred to me at the time to wank him off as his hand was working on me. It would have felt almost fraternal to have done that together; a mutual indulgence of our raging appetites as two excessively horny men.

I’d never beaten another man off in my life and I suddenly felt that it was something that I’d missed out on. It would be oddly satisfying to pleasure another man by doing something as simple as working my hand up and down his cock. It would be fascinating to watch his expression change and feel his cock growing steadily harder as my rhythm gradually increased, and to have his hips start bucking back and forth as he unloaded his pent-up cargo all over my chest.

James glanced up at me and at first I thought he had found something troubling. I realised, though, that he was throwing me an odd look because my penis had just about doubled in size in his hand and the shrivelled pink head was slowly easing itself through the round opening of my foreskin.

“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush. At least this was a bit more private than when it had happened at school.

I tried to joke to ease my awkwardness: “It likes to do that when it knows it shouldn’t.”

“I think that’s a habit they all share,” he said with a smile.

I had to think about something else. I forced myself to start planning for Christmas. What was I going to buy Jake? Did he want an iPhone or iPad or something? Had he mentioned that he wanted one, or did he tell me he’d just bought one? Why couldn’t he just want a motorbike or something else I could understand?

James’s fingers were really digging into each side of my balls as he checked both sides of them for any abnormalities. In spite of the fact I knew he was probably hunting for tumours, the firm grip of his hand felt extremely arousing. He was being surprisingly rough with me but I wasn’t too concerned: as a fellow male with a presumably similar, though probably smaller, pair of balls of his own to practise on, I had no reason to fear he might push too hard and hurt me.

How great would it be to be kneeling face to face with him on my bed, both pumping each other’s cock and fondling each other’s balls? Our bodies would be similar, but so fascinatingly different — for a start, as a redhead James’s pubes would be ginger. We’d bask in the combining fug of our sweat, enjoying the sharper whiffs our oozing cocks, as the rhythm of our right hands grew faster and faster. And perhaps, as we grinned at each other in our shared pleasure, our left hands would creep beyond each other’s balls, our fingers edging forwards between each other’s legs, reaching out towards the hot, hairy clefts just beyond our touch.

I wondered how James might smell down there… how his cute little doctor’s butt-crack would taste.

“Your testicles are obviously quite an erogenous area for you,” James said as we both watched my ripening helmet slide completely out through my foreskin as my cock continued to harden and grow.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again, mentally observing that I must have a thing about developing erections during medical examinations. At least this time I didn’t have three boys standing alongside me.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, standing up and grinning over at me. “It happens to a lot of men during medicals.”

He looked down at my organ as it continued to harden and I saw a trace of what might have been appreciation in his eyes. Once again, though, he didn’t offer a comment on its size.

“If I could just ask you to turn around, Rob. I’d better check your prostate while I’m at it.”

Oh God. I really hadn’t bargained on this.

I shuffled around and presented my backside to him. In spite of my curiosity about penetrating another man, I didn’t feel at all ready to be penetrated myself; not even by my doctor’s finger.

He walked over to his drawer and took out a small tube. After squirting some of the clear gel onto his glove and working it up and down the length of his middle finger, he came back over to me and stood alongside me.

I tried to see what he’d smeared on his finger but he told me it was just some KY jelly. Seeing me draw a blank, he muttered, “You don’t know what KY is?”

I shook my head.

“Well, if you’re going to be having sex with other men, Rob, I rather suspect you soon will.”

After asking me to bend forwards a little, he used his thumb and forefinger to prize apart my butt-cheeks and eased his slickened finger into my anus. The gel he’d applied felt cold but allowed him to enter me easily: he could push his finger far deeper than I was able to when I was playing with myself.

I’d have to buy a few tubes of this KY jelly. As he’d suggested, it could prove very useful.

When he’d pushed his finger into me as deep as it could go, I involuntarily let out a gasp.

He smiled. “That’s just about got it! You can stand up again.”

After I’d straightened up, we both looked down at my cock, pointing outwards from my body; the two of us watching with interest as it rose rapidly to its highest incline and the shaft of it thickened to its full girth. Its head was swelling up and becoming so fat that it was glistening with the skin stretched taut and its colour was darkening to a deep shade of crimson.

I looked at him in horror, shocked by how my dramatically penis was responding to him having his finger up my bum, but he just smiled in reassurance. “It’s all right, Rob. Really, it’s okay…”

He jiggled his finger around inside me, feeling around for my prostate, and I gasped again. It came out more like a sigh or a pant. My cock was almost bursting in its excitement and I was finding it difficult to suppress the urge to touch it. I knew that if I were to rub the throbbing head or grab the vein-raised shaft, I would start climaxing profusely all over his cupboards and drawers.

“Squat down for me a bit,” he ordered, gently pulling my shoulder downward with his free hand.

I did as he wanted and gasped another, “Aah!” as his finger delved further into my bowels and his knuckles pressed into both sides of my stretched ring.

My cock was pounding at the feel of him inside me, my balls pumped up to their maximum and dangling down between my open legs as they readied for orgasm. I gritted my teeth to hold my climax back: only the thought of how crushingly mortified I would feel if I were to start squirting my thick white ropes of seed across the surgery during a rectal examination was keeping me from doing so. How I would ever face James after squash again? How could I ever return to the surgery?

James chuckled. “I would view your enjoyment as a good omen, Rob. Perhaps a sign of things to come, if you’ll… er… forgive my choice of wording.”

He pulled his finger out of me with an unpleasant wet slurp and, making a well-practiced flick of his wrist, pulled off both gloves to be disposed of.

As I stood there, hunched and recovering my breath, I could smell my own arse from his finger quite distinctly in the air. He must also be well aware of it. It wasn’t very strong but it was instantly recognisable: faintly pungent and teeming with my own raunchy, sexual musk.

“Well there’s good news on two counts,” James said brightly as if oblivious to my anal whiff. He turned to search through the top drawer in the cabinet behind him for something.

“The first is that you obviously enjoy the touch of another man, so we know that any homosexual feelings you’re experiencing at the minute have a psychological basis.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked, as he worked down through the drawers beneath, trying to find whatever it was he was looking for.

“I think so,” he said. “It proves that you’re comfortable being with another man in a sexual context… that you’ve worked through the issues a lot of men instinctively have about having their bodies touched by a member of their own sex.”

He bent down to search through his bottom drawer. His white jacket rode up exposing his pert, round backside in his tight, black trousers. The hem between his buttocks was riding up into his cheeks, pulling the briefs he was so clearly wearing deep inside his arse-crack.

“And that’s a good thing?” I repeated, feeling my mouth becoming dry.

“Of course,” he said, fumbling through the drawer.

What a beautiful backside he had. I imagined having my nose pressed between those cheeks; sniffing at the material where the hemlines of his briefs were coming together. Getting a whiff of his most private and personal flavour just as he had mine.

“It shows that whatever you’re going through isn’t just physiological, and that’s the second bit of good news,” he called back to me. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you which could cause these changes. Everything checks out as perfectly normal.”

My cock was still at full size and a dribble of thick, clear liquid was oozing from the slit at its tip. I could clearly visualise pulling his trousers and underpants down and pushing my face between his amazing butt-cheeks. I wondered if the hair inside his arse-crack would be auburn like his hair. I wondered how assiduously he washed himself; how strong his scent back there would be.

“Aha… found it!” he called out, as something clattered inside the drawer.

I’d crouch behind him, licking between his cheeks, and then stand up so that my erection was level with his spit-soaked furry cleft. I’d grab his hips and ease my bloated helmet into him, right where I knew his tiny, untouched hole would be. He’d call out, “Yeah… fuck me, Rob! Fuck my arsehole!” And I’d slowly ease myself into him, watching the hungry mouth of his anus consume inch after inch of my length and sniffing as the crisp, sterile air of the room was sullied again; this time by his own indelicate odour.

I’d push myself right up into him with my engorged, throbbing cock; boring into him far more thickly and deeply than his finger had me.

My cock was now aching painfully, demanding my attention. The head had darkened to a deep, angry purple and the end of it had swollen so fat that the thin strip of skin underneath the slit was pulling the tip into two distinct lobes. I’d never seen it take on that shape before. I seriously needed release.

James stood up and turned to me, smiling. “Funny how things end up getting wedged in so deeply at the back!”

“Er… sorry?”

Jesus — had he read my mind?

“This!” he said, showing me a leaflet. It was a small pamphlet, somewhat crumpled from where it had been pushed to the back of the drawer, and seemed to be a health leaflet intended for gay men.

He glanced at my nudity and his gaze lingered for a moment on my flagrant erection, its distended head glistening with my ooze. “Sorry, Rob. I should have said — you can get dressed now.”

“Oh right. Thanks.”

I walked over to the chair with my inflamed organ wobbling up and down. A drip of the clear liquid dribbled onto the lino floor making a small puddle of goo.

James grabbed a box of antiseptic wipes and knelt down to clean up my mess while I pulled on my boxer shots.

“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks blush scarlet.

“It’s not a problem,” he said brightly, disposing of the tissue in the bio-hazard bin. And then, seeing how flushed my face was, smiled to reassure me. “Don’t be embarrassed! You’re going to need to get used to a lot of stray liquids and unfamiliar smells if you’re going to enjoy homosexual sex.”

“I’m quite looking forward to all the liquids and smells,” I informed him, struggling to tuck my cock into my boxer shorts without triggering an orgasm. I knew I was still precariously close to a very copious climax: were that to happen, it would take a lot more than a wet wipe to mop up my outpouring of strong-smelling semen.

“That sort of thing doesn’t bother me at all,” I went on, managing to tuck myself into my shorts without rubbing the head too vigorously against the material. “In fact, I think it’s the unfamiliarity of it that excites me.”

“So why do you look so flushed?”

I angled my cock diagonally upwards in my shorts, aware that it was making a wet, sticky patch up near my hip. It was pulling the material upwards, making each of my balls hang down through the separate legs of the shorts. In spite of how ridiculous I looked, I gave up trying to reposition it and grabbed for my trousers.

“I’m just blushing,” I began to explain, pushing one leg and then the other into my trousers and pulling them on, “Because of a few longstanding body issues I have. I’m quite well-endowed and… er… well…”

He nodded. I suppose there was no point in him pretending he hadn’t noticed. The thing had almost gone off in his hand.

I went on, “I suppose… sometimes I’m not very comfortable with it.”

“Well, be that as it may,” he said, putting the leaflet on his desk, “in every physical respect you’re in very good health. You could benefit from taking more exercise and cutting down on the booze, but that applies to just about anyone.”

I reached for my shirt, thankful that my feeling of imminent climax was abating. The stiffness of my cock seemed to have eased, albeit ever so slightly, although it was still making a lewd-looking ridge along the front of my trousers.

Without apparently noticing it, he continued, “Whatever homosexual urges you’re current experiencing must — I would guess — be coming from some subconscious need that you haven’t been fulfilling.”

“What subconscious need could make me want to push my face into another man’s bum?” I asked, buttoning up the front of my shirt.

He shrugged and sat down in his chair.

“I assume you’ve researched this a little on the internet?” he asked. Seeing me nod, he went on, “So you’ve no doubt found out that what you’re interested in is called ‘rimming’?”

“It was the first thing I found out about it,” I told him as I knotted my tie. “It was nice to be able to put a name to it, but even more of a relief to find that other people enjoy doing this too. That I’m not the only one.”

He smiled. “You’re certainly not the only one, but rimming is generally restricted to the realms of homosexual foreplay.”

“Not exclusively,” I told him. “You don’t realise how many straight men are into it, until you start probing. If… er… you’ll forgive my choice of wording this time.”

He nodded, throwing me a small smirk. “So what is it that attracts you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I thought for a few seconds before trying to begin to explain the pervasive allure of my fellow men’s rears. I sat down on the chair and started pulling on my socks, thankful that my ungratified erection was becoming much softer.

“I don’t know exactly,” I began, after I’d pulled on one of them. “Having my face down there… pushing my nose and mouth between another guy’s bum cheeks. The smell, the taste of a man back there is so exciting… so erotic. But just the fact of having my face so close to his bum… I don’t know what it is about doing that which should arouse me so much…”

I thought back to one of the books I had read in the library and added, “Maybe the fact it’s such a taboo place… a part of the body we’re supposed to regard as disgusting… and I’m pushing my tongue into it…”

“It might not seem like it, Rob, but I think what you’re describing is a very natural response,” he said, nodding slowly. “It’s clearly documented that some people experience arousal through oral contact with another person’s anus. It’s one of the most intimate sexual acts one person can perform on another and is also, arguably, one of the most intense.”

“Is that right?” I asked.

“I’m no sex therapist by any stretch of the imagination, but rimming is a way for you to say to someone, on a purely subconscious level, ‘I want all of you. Every single part of you excites me.’ And the person you’re rimming is telling you, by letting you do that to them, ‘I’m totally yours. No part of me is off-limits to you.’ Such implied mutual acceptance is, to some deep innate part of the brain, a powerful turn-on.”

I nodded, still seated and without my shoes on, surprised by how much sense he was making.

“Apart from that,” he went on, “as you’ve just experienced, the anus and surrounding tissues are richly endowed with nerve endings highly sensitive to erotic touch. For some reason, perhaps lost in our evolutionary past, we’re meant to find that area highly arousing.”

“But why am I so fascinated by the idea of doing it with other men?”

“Hmm… that’s an interesting question,” he said, staring past me as if trying to figure out the answer. “It’s as if your normal sexual interests have been flipped one hundred and eighty degrees: from the female and the vaginal, towards the male and the anal. Perhaps you have a need for intimacy with another male which you craved when you were younger…?”

I nodded, reaching for one of my shoes. “I suppose that could be my brother. But I never wanted to do anything sexual with him…”

“Whatever issues you had with your brother, it could be that your desire for affection is being expressed sexually now even though it had no sexual component at the time.”

“Don’t you think it’s more likely that I’m excited by doing something that I see as ‘wrong’?” I insisted. “I mean, rimming in itself has so many negative connotations attached to it, and so for me to compound that by wanting the act to be homosexual as well as sordid –”

“I’ll stop you there,” James interjected. “That’s exactly my point: I don’t think rimming is in any way ‘sordid’. Not too long ago, straightforward oral sex was seen as a perversion — it was actually illegal for husbands and wives to do it together in some US states. Since then, it has been largely accepted as a normal part of a sexual relationship. I think, given time, rimming will be similarly brought in from the dark ages. There shouldn’t be any shame associated with any sexual act as long as it’s not hurting anyone.”

I nodded. “I suppose you’re right… it just seems such a… I don’t know… a really base thing to want to do to someone…”

James smiled. He had a nice smile; a little tired, no doubt from the long hours of his job, but warm and genuine.

“I’ll tell you a story,” he said. “I wasn’t going to mention this because… well… it’s kind of personal and it involves someone who used to work here, but if you’d be happy to hear me out, you might find it interesting.”

“Of course,” I assented, curious as to what he was going to tell me. I grabbed my other shoe and pushed my foot into it.

“It was a few years ago, just after I’d taken up the position here and moved down from Sheffield with my wife and our daughters. One of the doctors here — a young guy who I won’t name — had been sponsored to grow his beard for some charity or other and had come to the point of shaving it off. He’d grown it for about a year, I think, and it was getting quite big and curly. I got the feeling that it was, quite literally, starting to come between him and his girlfriend.

“Someone had the idea that he could raise more money by shaving not only his beard but his whole body. He was a hairy guy — you could see his chest hair bristling over the top of his shirt and tie — and it seemed like it would be quite a fun thing for him to do. As it turned out, he got more sponsorship money for agreeing to get ‘sheered’, as he put it, than he did for growing his beard.

“On the day of the sheering, we decided we’d need some ‘before’ and ‘after’ photos of him to satisfy people that he’d gone through with it. He was going to shave himself in one of the examination rooms which has a shower and, for some reason which I can’t remember, I was volunteered to take the photos.”

James chuckled at the memory and I smiled uncertainly at him, trying to figure out where this was leading.

“We got a few ‘before’ photos with him stripped to his underwear. If I’d have been getting photo’d in my next-to-nothings, I’d have worn the baggiest pair of boxer shorts I could find. Not this guy! He was wearing the skimpiest, tightest pair of briefs you could imagine. Everything else was in the laundry bag, he said. ‘Yeah, right,’ I thought — it was pretty obvious that the guy clearly loved showing himself off.”

“Who was going to see these photos?” I asked.

“Anyone who happened to look over at the noticeboard in reception,” James said with a smirk. “He knew full well we were going to make a poster but I think he quite liked the idea of all of the old grannies who fussed over him when they came in for their haemorrhoid treatments seeing him stripped down to a pair of skivvies which left nothing to the imagination.”

I suggested that maybe he liked showing off his hairy chest. (If I’d had a hairy chest, I would have been rather pleased to have had it photo’d and plastered all over a noticeboard — though not if I’d had to strip down to my underwear, of course.)

“There was certainly plenty of hair to show off,” chuckled James. “Not just on his chest, but his arms and legs were as furry as a gorilla’s!”

I smiled. This guy sounded very interesting; it was a pity he’d moved on to a different surgery.

“Once I’d taken a few ‘before’ shots, he got to work shaving his chest. I went off to do something, maybe some paperwork or something, while he finished off shaving. When I returned, most of his body, arms and legs were looking smooth. He was covered in smears of shaving foam mixed with stubble from where he hadn’t yet showered, but even so, the transformation was breath-taking — he looked more naked, perhaps… but also more vulnerable, if that makes sense.

“He turned to me and grinned and I burst out laughing. The problem was that he hadn’t shaved his crotch and the hair was bristling out from his briefs, looking utterly ridiculous now that the skin around them had been shaved.

“‘I’m not shaving down there!’ he said. ‘I’ve got to draw the line somewhere!’

“‘But it looks really silly,’ I laughed. ‘Like you need an emergency bikini wax!’

“He tried to tuck his bush into his underpants but it kept poking out, like it was re-sprouting, which made me laugh even more.

“‘Look,’ I told him, ‘you said you were going to shave off all of your hair — surely that means all of it. Every last whisker.’

“Eventually, after some persuasion, he agreed, and I went off again, while he took off his pants and started shaving his pubes. When I returned after a short while, his front was completely hairless. It was strange to see him like that — with his genitals completely hairless.”

“I suppose it’s odd to see a grown man looking as hairless as a little kid,” I suggested.

James smiled but shook his head. “That would probably be true for you, but for me it just looked as if he was prepped for surgery. Like he was waiting for me to give him a vasectomy or something.”

“That would make an interesting fundraising idea!”

James chuckled.

“He turned around and asked me to finish off his back for him. He’d managed to shave around his shoulders, but most of his back was still covered in hair. Like I said, he was a very hairy bloke. His backside, and particularly between his cheeks, was especially… shall we say… hirsute.”

I finally started to realise where this was headed and leaned forwards a little, eager for him to continue.

“I carefully shaved his back for him, sloshing the razor around in a beaker of water to get rid of the thick clumps of hair I was removing. I asked him if he wanted to me to do his backside, figuring he might want to sort out that part for himself, and he said it would be easier if I did it. So I knelt down behind him and he bent forwards, supporting himself against the back of a chair.”

James stopped, as if unsure as to how to continue, and threw me another of his smiles.

I smiled back expectantly. After a moment or so, I ventured, “And then?”

“Well…” he began carefully. “Let’s just say I can empathise with your attraction for that area. There was something about kneeling behind another guy… being so close to his bum… that I found quite — I don’t know how best to describe it — perhaps ‘intriguing’ might cover it…”

“Okay,” I said nodding, disappointed that he seemed to have bottled-out at the best part. “Let’s just take it back a few steps. You knelt down behind him and you did what, exactly?”

James smiled more broadly and nodded, throwing me look which seemed to acknowledge that he’d short-changed me.

“I shaved his buttocks quite quickly, all the time becoming aware that his backside had a certain smell to it which was… well… not unappealing… very much along the lines of what you described.”

“Didn’t the smell of the shaving foam overwhelm everything else?” I asked. The stuff I used always smelt cloyingly of artificial lemon.

He shook his head. “It was unperfumed NHS stuff — the type we use in minor surgery.”

“So what was his smell like?” I asked, wondering if for the first time I had found someone in person who had shared, to some extent, my experience. “Did you like it?”

“Yes, I did,” he agreed. “It wasn’t… you know… as you might expect…”

I nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“It was a bit sweaty, a bit skunky,” he went on, “But something about it caught my attention… it was, maybe on some deeply buried level of consciousness, quite fascinating…”

“Surely you’d had a face around guys’ backsides before? When you were taking samples, inserting suppositories, that kind of stuff…”

“It’s standard practice to wear surgical mask if you need to get up close,” he said. “Nothing gets through those things.”

I nodded. “Ah. So what was it about it that you liked?”

He chuckled. “I think, Rob, you could probably describe its appeal better than me. Suffice to say that, in spite of its place of origin, the scent was undeniably sexual and had quite a potent effect on me. Perhaps there was a pheromonal component, I don’t know.”

“So you developed an erection?” I asked, rather without thinking.

“I think that’s a little personal,” he retorted, throwing me a frosty look of reproof.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I was just trying to parallel your experience with my own. The first time I did it, it had a very dramatic effect on me — both mentally and physically. Having said that,” I said, trying to lighten the mood with a smile, “as you saw, it doesn’t take very much to trigger a response from me.”

His expression softened slightly and he nodded. “Okay… fair point. Yes, I became aroused. And, as you say, very dramatically so.”

“So what happened next?” I asked, resolving to keep my line of questioning more open-ended.

“Having shaved his buttocks, I asked him to bend further forwards so I could get the razor between them. That was when I really became aware of how… intoxicating his scent back there really was.

“I had to ease his cheeks apart so that I could shave his cleft, rinsing the razor off with water as I did so, and all the time I was growing more and more aroused by the intensifying smell of him… that exciting and slightly crass, but incredibly masculine, odour. Inside the confines of my clothing, things were getting somewhat painful.”

I wondered if that meant he was, like me, rather a grower.

“Could he see, do you think, how aroused you were?”

He shook his head. “I was kneeling down, remember, so my… er… excitement was hidden among the folds. I was more concerned that the wet patch it was making on my underwear was seeping through to my trousers, to be honest.”

He chuckled and I smiled back at him, surprised that, while he’d been reticent about telling me he had an erection, he had no qualms about letting me know how much it oozed. Perhaps he thought all men dribbled precum so profusely when they were aroused.

“So what did you do next?” I asked.

“Like you, I confess that I was drawn to press my face close to him and I guess I must have moved in too close. He called back to me, in a joking way, ‘Get your face out of there, man!’ But there was an unmistakeable edge to his voice — as if I was invading a very personal part of his body space… which, obviously I was.”

“If he hadn’t been so… er… disobliging, do you think you’d have gone further?”

“Maybe… but I don’t think so,” he replied. “I was certainly fantasizing about what I might like to do, and my thoughts were straying into areas which I knew they shouldn’t.”

Then he added with a mischievous smirk: “Areas not really befitting a happily married man…”

I smiled back, keen to know exactly where those naughty thoughts of his had strayed to. Had he fantasised about actually rimming the other man; of leaning forwards and exploring with his tongue the part that smelled so tempting? ‘Just putting a bit of spit back there, mate! Helping to lubricate the razor!’

As if that possibility wasn’t fascinating enough, was it conceivable that his thoughts could have been driven by the more pressing needs of his “painful” erection? Was he contemplating, while he was crouching there behind his naked friend, getting to his feet and unzipping himself; pushing himself forwards so he could ease his wet, sticky cock into the part which was so arousing him? Would young Dr Courtney, who seemed outwardly so innocuous, really have mentally plumped straight for the full-on butt-fuck, sidestepping the more circuitous route along which my fantasies had sauntered?

Perhaps his heterosexual experiences had, unlike mine, been peppered with regular doses of anal intercourse. If he enjoyed that particular variant of straight sex, it was quite possible that, on finding himself excited with his face poised over the male version of the same hole, his first impulse would be to use his cock to probe that area rather than his tongue.

I smiled to think of the good doctor imagining doing the dirty with his younger colleague. Bending the other man over, grabbing him by the hips and pleasuring himself in his freshly-shaven arse. I wondered if he’d played out the scenario again that night with his wife, or if he’d surreptitiously masturbated in the bathroom with it at the forefront of his mental imagery.

Whether he might even have used his fingers on his own bum to experience a second time a whiff of the smell that had so aroused him.

Whether the smell of mine, subtle but unmistakable in the air just moments earlier, had caused his cock to grow and dribble a little more.

Before I could think of a way I could phrase a question to discreetly delve into such matters, James sought to draw the discussion back to my own situation: “My reason for telling you this is to give a first-hand example of the point I made earlier. Namely, that the anus is a surprisingly sexual area and being in close proximity to such an intimate area of another person can elicit unexpected reactions.”

“So what happened next between you two guys?” I asked, hoping to draw him back to the action, such as it was.

James smiled, no doubt seeing straight through my question. “What’s left to say? I finished off shaving him and he got in the shower to wash off all the gunge and the stubble. Then he pulled his underwear back on and I took the ‘after’ shots with him looking smooth and sleek. By then, the feeling I’d had — the sudden urge to get physical with him — had passed and I couldn’t, to be honest, understand what had come over me. He was just another guy — albeit a scantily-dressed one — and of no sexual interest to me at all.”

“Have you thought of it since? About how you felt when you were so close to him?”

An image of him locked away in his bathroom feverishly enjoying the memory with that copiously oozing cock of his flashed into my mind.

“Not really,” he said, disappointingly. “Not until you told me about what had happened to you. Perhaps what I experienced was completely different from what you did, but feel free draw any similarities which might prove useful when you’re trying to figure it out.”

“I don’t think it was so different — in fact, what you’ve described makes me feel like maybe I’m not so weird after all. Thank you for telling me.”

I did appreciate his honesty and trust. He was married man with two kids and I was sure he wouldn’t want it to become common knowledge that he got off, like I did, by having his face pressed up against other men’s arses.

He handed me the leaflet which he said was more to inform me about the physical aspects of rimming rather than to answer my more pressing questions about the reasons I was having such feelings, and we stood up together as I made to leave.

“Does your son know about what you’re going through?” he asked. James knew Jake quite well and was aware of some of the struggles I’d had trying to single-handedly guide my son — often by the scruff of his neck — through his turbulent teens.

“No,” I replied, surprised at the question. “I wouldn’t him want to know that I’m… well…”

“…human?” he suggested.

I thought for a moment and nodded. “I suppose…”

For some reason, we both felt compelled to shake hands as he saw me out of the room. Perhaps it was a way of acknowledging the peculiar connection we’d identified with one another, or perhaps we were silently agreeing that what we had both said in the room would remain strictly between the two of us.

As I left the building, I wondered if maybe James was right that my interest in rimming other men had emerged as some kind of manifestation of a problem I’d experienced in my youth, whether it was a throwback to the adversarial relationship I’d had with my brother or something else. Perhaps if I rooted through my past enough, I might find the reason for what I was going through and, if I did, it might make these feelings which were welling up in me, subside and go away.

Walking across the car park, I asked myself if I really wanted to be free of these thoughts and to return to seeing other men in a completely asexual light. How pleasant would it be to have this new aspect to my sexuality simply fade away like the fragments of an interesting dream on waking? Would it be a relief, or would I miss them? I wasn’t sure that wanted to find out.

I felt like I’d been re-energised by what had happened to me with Guy and during the months since. My life had acquired new meaning: every day seemed to reveal some novel twist on things I had previously taken for granted; I was endlessly astonished at how what had only recently appeared drearily familiar could be transformed into something so exciting and stimulating.

No — I didn’t want these feelings just to die away. I wanted to embrace them and enjoy them; I wanted them to continue to surprise and revitalise me.

Back in my car, before I started the engine, I looked at the leaflet which James had given me. On the front of it was a picture of an aggressive-looking short-haired youth taken from behind. He was bending forwards slightly with his scruffy jeans yanked down to reveal a rather delicious-looking pair of pale buttocks. The caption underneath read: “If you rim him, you rim every other guy who’s rimmed him.” Now there was an enticing thought! Talk about all your Christmases coming at once.

Inside, the leaflet was disappointingly wordy and devoid of any more pictures of other young men showing off their backsides. The text described some of the diseases which could be picked up by two men — and there seemed to be an implicit assumption that they would be gay — during rimming. I was surprised that it said HIV was not a significant risk, but it listed a number of scary-sounding conditions which could be transmitted by the arse-to-mouth route. It warned against the dangers of rimming a guy straight after brushing or flossing one’s teeth because this could leave small scratches on the inside of the lips and cheeks which microbes could exploit. It also recommended using a sheet of latex called a dental dam when rimming a guy which struck me as defeating the whole point of the activity.

I decided that I’d do what I could to minimise the risks, but ultimately I’d have to take the rough with the smooth. Rough bums and smooth bums… so many choices…

On the back of the leaflet there was a large white rectangle into which someone had, probably a long while ago, stamped the details of a weekly meeting which took place up near Leicester. The group went under the rather vague banner of “Men’s Sexual Health Issues” and it ran on Monday evenings at an adult learning centre, led by a “fully trained male counsellor”. Anonymity was most categorically assured. I wondered if it still took place and whether, perhaps, some of the answers I was seeking might be found there.

Stashing the leaflet into my jacket pocket and starting up the car, I decided that, if I could remember what I had to do to withhold my phone number before calling someone, I would give the centre a ring. Leicester was a long way away and it was unlikely I’d know anyone at the meeting. And even if I did, I could quickly leave, claiming I’d wandered in by mistake and was really looking for the pottery class or something.

Part of the ‘Butt Monkey’ series of stories by Robert Furlong


As I was getting into bed, Guy returned to the room chuckling that the lads had still been on their DS, which he’d confiscated. “I know they’re getting a bit old to have their toys taken off them, but they’re gonna need to get some sleep if they want to enjoy the match tomorrow.”

Knowing Jake, I was quite sure he was already finding other things to keep him and his friend occupied. My son always went to bed very much on his own terms.

Guy put the games console down onto the drawers and started hitching his jeans back down. His cock, I noticed, was now mainly flaccid inside his briefs but the wet patch it had made when it had been stiff and leaking was still dark and sodden.

He looked over at me checking out his bulge and hitched the waistband up a little to show it off more prominently.

“Reached a verdict?” he asked casually, as if he was asking if I’d decided what time to set the alarm. Considering we’d been discussing trading sexual favours, his tone seemed remarkably inappropriate.

I pulled the duvet over me and smiled at him. “Yeah. I’m gonna back out, actually. Let’s just put what we talked about down to the strength of the whisky…”

He pulled his jeans off and tossed them to one side. He smiled over at me without a trace of rejection or disappointment. “Fair enough, mate. No worries.”

He walked into the bathroom and stood, side-on to me, in front of the toilet bowl. He pulled his cock out from his underwear and directed down towards the water. It was still quite large and the purple head was protruding from his foreskin as a result of his earlier erection. He started pissing — a thick yellow jet of liquid — and called over to me, “I might have to beat off before I can sleep. Would that be okay with you?”

The question only surprised me in its directness. He was so sexually tense I had assumed he would need some kind of release. I’d just hoped he would be able to wait until he’d returned home so that I wouldn’t have to listen to him.

“Yes, of course. Just close the bathroom door so I can get some sleep.”

He laughed, still directing the powerful stream from his organ into the water of the toilet bowl. “I mean in bed. Who’s ever heard of wanking standing up?”

“Don’t you ever do it in the shower?”

He looked over at me. “No. I have to be lying down. Do you mind if I do it in bed?”

“I need to sleep. How long will it take?”

His jet of piss subsided into a trickle and he squirted the last few spurts into the toilet. He shook his cock and I noticed that it had begun to lengthen and thicken again at the prospect of being masturbated by its owner. The head was looking redder as it swelled and fattened.

“I dunno,” he muttered. “I’m not a big fan of it, like I said, so it can take a while. And without any porn…”

He tucked himself back into his underwear and walked over to the sink. Then he went on, as he squirted toothpaste onto his brush, “I managed to do it on the rig a few times without disturbing three sleeping men, so I can be pretty quiet about it.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I couldn’t see that I had much choice in the matter. Did men often have these kinds of conversations when they had to share a bedroom? I’d shared with a friend of mine, Adam, the night before my wedding. I didn’t remember having to discuss his masturbatory requirements after we’d drunkenly staggered back from the bar.

He brushed his teeth hurriedly and I clicked my bedside lamp off to show that I was hoping to be able to go to sleep quite imminently.

Having finished in the bathroom, he switched off the light and walked over to his bed. He directed his own bedside light away from my side of the room making it gloomy enough for me to close my eyes and at least hope to be able to sleep while he attended to himself.

He said, “Sorry I need to do this, but I got so horny earlier talking about stuff which really shouldn’t made me that horny. I think I must need to empty my nuts.”

I turned away from him to give him what little privacy I could, and said, flatly, “Goodnight, Guy.”

He said, “Goodnight, Rob,” and his mattress squeaked as he climbed into his own bed.

I must admit that his sounds of self-stimulation were very discreet and well-concealed. Indeed, if he had not announced what he was about to do, I might have been blissfully unaware of the activity going on underneath his duvet and managed to nod off. As it was, though, the knowledge that another man was lying in the same room as me pleasuring himself made me listen out for any sounds he might make; it was that, more than any actual sounds, which ended up keeping me awake.

At first, I was waiting impatiently for the tell-tale gasp of his orgasm, which would let me know that he’d finished so I could finally go to sleep. I reflected that this must have been how my ex-wife had felt while she’d waited for me to ‘expel my seed’, as she’d so affectionately put it, as I’d lain in bed next to her tending to the erection I almost invariably developed at bedtime.

Early on in our marriage Linda had seemed to accept that regular sex was necessary for me and had allowed me to have intercourse every night before we slept on the proviso that I would attend to my morning erections while I was showering. But after a while she’d said that such ‘nightly rutting’ was making her too sore, so she’d agreed to beat me off instead. The first few times she had seemed quite keen on the new arrangement and had worked on me with gusto, using different techniques on my cock to bring me to my much-needed climax. But soon her enthusiasm had waned and she began complaining that she needed to sleep and that she couldn’t see why my balls needed to be ‘emptied so regularly’. So she’d ended up lying there each night with her back to me, making her displeasure clear, while I’d tried to masturbate as quickly and quietly as I could, feeling embarrassed that my male physiology had given me such an apparently unreasonable sexual appetite. Pretty soon I’d been relegated to the bathroom, and had ended up spending most nights squatting on the tiled floor with my pyjama bottoms around my ankles discharging the day’s pent-up semen over a couple of girlie magazines I kept behind the bath panel.

Now, as I lay there in the semi-gloom of my side of the room, I felt a modicum of sympathy towards Linda when she’d been a similar position but I also recognised that Guy had needs like my own and that I had to show more patience towards what his biology was forcing him to do than my ex-wife had towards me.

And so I didn’t make sighs and grunts of exasperation to hurry him along, as Linda had in my position, but rather lay there listening to him, focussing with mild interest on the sounds he was making as he tugged his foreskin back and forth underneath his duvet. There was a steady rhythm — gentle and almost indiscernible from the beating of my own pulse in my ears — but easily recognisable to me, having made similarly discreet sounds in my own bed on many an occasion so as not to disturb Jake, sleeping in his room. Then there was his breathing, growing steadily faster and shallower as his rhythm quickened and his pleasure intensified. His mattress, too, would occasionally betray him with a few expressive creaks, perhaps when his elbow inadvertently rubbed against it or his hips give a few involuntary thrusts.

As I listened to him rubbing himself, his rhythm gradually intensifying and his breathing gradually quickening into short pants, I felt my own cock starting to lengthen and became aware that these private, sexual sounds from another man were beginning to excite me.

I rolled over onto my back and glanced over at Guy.

Aware that I wasn’t asleep and that he had no need to be quiet about what he was doing, he began beating his cock more powerfully, allowing his fist to make a recurring thumping sound against the duvet every time it reached the top of his cock. In time with this was a wet clicking sound like somebody chewing gum. I realised it must be his foreskin making moist smacking noises every time it swept across the head of his cock, wettened by the ooze of liquid weeping from the slit.

My cock continued to stiffen through the fly of my boxer shorts as I heard a second rhythm to Guy’s exertions: a rapid slapping sound which could have been his wrist beating against his hip or — and the idea of this made me reach down and wrap my fingers around my own stiffening member — his large pair of nuts thumping against his thighs.

Guy must have noticed the mound of my hand, touching myself beneath the duvet, because he called out, breathlessly, “Yeah! Come on, mate — wank with me!”

My inhibitions lowered by the whisky, I acceded to Guy’s command and started to beat myself under the duvet, my wrist making a gentle beating noise against it in time with Guy’s more powerful rhythm.

He called out again, “Yeah! Go for it!” and then I saw him push his duvet away right off his bed so that he could stroke himself in the open air.

With his bedside light directed onto the wall next to him, I saw Guy’s outline mostly in silhouette. His body was tense and his chest was heaving. His wrist swept up and down the length of his large, curving cock in a fast, rhythmic motion. The head of it was fat and engorged and the wet clicking noises made by his foreskin against its sticky surface sounded louder and clearer. His balls protruded upwards in a slightly odd way: I then realised he’d tucked the waistband of his briefs underneath them when he’d started masturbating.

I could smell it quite distinctly: the sharp, musky tang wafting from his oozing cock-head as his foreskin swept back and forth across it and the thicker, more acrid, odour from his balls. It was an unmistakably sexual scent, heavy with sweat and testosterone: the unrefined smell of male masturbation.

I found it surprisingly arousing and inhaled it deeply as I lay stroking myself. It was a powerfully masculine odour and yet it was strangely exciting to me. I increased my rhythm on my cock, pumping myself more quickly and more firmly as I sniffed at the sharp bite of Guy’s cock in the air.

He turned to look at me and called out, between gasping breaths, “Push your bedding off! Show me it!”

At first I was reluctant to do so, but my excitement overcame me and after a minute or so I revealed myself to him. Pushing my duvet away, I let him see me jerking my cock through the fly of my boxers in the half-light on my side of the room.

He peered over at me in obvious surprise. He must have assumed my reluctance to flash myself at him at every occasion, as he had with me, arose from my shortcomings in the trouser department.

The fact is, though, that I am very well-endowed, both in terms of the length and girth of my penis and the distended size of my testicles; so much so that I’ve always been self-conscious about exposing myself. My mother had told me when I was growing up that large genitals were something to be ashamed of and so for many years I had tried to hide my size and had felt awkward when I was circumstances dictated that I had to be naked among other people. It was bad enough to have been an early developer and to put up with my classmates’ staring between my legs in the school showers in fascination each week watching my testicles grow steadily to the size of plums and my scrotum sprout a forest of dark, wiry hair while their pea-sized equivalents remained practically hairless. For a while my nickname became ‘Furballs’ — a crude corruption of my surname ‘Furlong’ — much to my discomfort. But once my development had really taken off a year or so later, it was mortifying to have them point and giggle at my lengthening penis which looked more and more like an elephant’s trunk hanging between my legs during each weekly shower while theirs barely made a bump in their underwear. Within a short time my name had been further corrupted into ‘Footlong’, a jibe which had me blushing and hiding my face whether it be hurled at me on the sports pitch or across the maths classroom.

These days, while I wasn’t so embarrassed of being well-built and knew that many people appreciated a large manhood, the hangover of shame from my youth still made me very reticent about revealing my genitals to anyone, both male and female.

Guy laughed and called out, still beating himself, “You’re a dark horse, aren’t you, Rob? You hid that pretty well!”

His reaction gave me confidence and I smiled back at him.

He went on, “It’s always the quiet ones who have pythons stuffed down their trousers!”

I’d never had it called a python and I liked the analogy. I changed position slightly so that he could better see it, and more fully admire its length and thickness. I hoped, too, that he might enjoy the distinctive odour of my cock as I masturbated it just as I was appreciating the strongly male scent that his was exuding.

He sniffed a couple of times, though whether it was to savour the waft of pheromones from my cock as I stroked it or whether he was becoming breathless from his own exertions, I don’t know.

I, for one, was relishing the intensifying stink that was gathering in the room. I’d always enjoyed the strongly sexual smell of my own masturbation and now, with two of us in the room exposing our erections and rubbing them vigorously together, our collective odour was twice as intoxicating. I could feel the thickened shaft of mine hardening to full stiffness, lengthening to its full enormity, in the building excitement I was experiencing.

My only concern — and it was a very distant one — was that one of our sons might, for whatever reason, come tapping at our door. The sharp reek of our cocks would make it unmistakable to another male what the two of us had been doing: I would hate for Jake or Simon to wince at their dads’ masturbatory stink; to grimace, knowing that the cloying odour in our room came from two men who had been pleasuring themselves together.

Nevertheless, we lay like that for a minute or so, enjoying our communal masturbation with an almost fraternal intimacy: watching each other’s hands stroking up and down, and enjoying the sensation of being watched.

I was intrigued by the way that Guy’s technique differed from my own. He was stroking himself using two fingers and a thumb on his organ; I had my whole hand wrapped around my organ. He kept his legs closed pushing his scrotum upwards between his thighs; I kept my legs widely apart and let my much larger balls settle between them, gently slapping against my thighs with the rhythm of my hand. His cock sounded wet and sticky as he wanked it and the ooze from its head lubricated the sweepings of foreskin; mine was much drier and I needed to lick my fingers occasionally to moisten the head.

Aside from those few differences, however, our techniques were largely similar and our rhythms well-matched. Guy stared at my cock and I stared at his as we did exactly the thing Guy had told our sons not to do a couple of hours earlier.

Abruptly, Guy leapt up from his bed and came over to mine. He stood next to my bed while I, still stroking myself, stared up at his manhood standing upright next to me. A string of clear sticky liquid dribbled from the end of it onto my pillow. The smell from his cock, his balls and perhaps his underpants too was mouth-wateringly strong.

“Suck it,” he commanded.

“I dunno, Guy.” I was enjoying masturbating with him and finding it surprisingly arousing, but –

“Suck it. Please,” he implored.

He reached down for my cock and pushed my hand away from it. He grabbed it quite roughly in his fist and started hurriedly jerking my foreskin back and forth. In spite of his uncouth technique, it felt good to have another person’s hand on my cock after so much time. I gasped my appreciation.

“I’ll wank you off as long as you like…” he pleaded. “I’ll do anything with it… just suck me. Please. I need it.”

I looked at his cock, still pounding with anticipation and dribbling clear fluid onto my pillow and, pained by his desperation, I nodded.

He grabbed it with his free hand and directed it downwards towards my face. In spite of its hardness he forced it down at such an angle that I was sure it must hurt him, but he was so eager to get it into my mouth that he must have been oblivious to the discomfort.

I leaned up from my pillow and tentatively licked the sticky, swollen head of it. The taste was unremarkable — salty, a little bitter — but I was almost overwhelmed by his powerful odour. It was so much stronger than the scent which had wafted over to me when he had been masturbating — it made that almost pale into insignificance.

His smell up close was somewhere between the rank odour of sweat and the sharp stench of piss, but with more to it than that: a stronger, sexual aroma from his pores, reeking of musk and testosterone. In spite of how cloyingly intense it was — and how potently masculine — I found it captivating and what I had thought would be a few reticent licks of his cock-head quickly intensified into a full-on fury of slurping and gagging as I took as much of his engorged organ into my eager, gasping mouth.

He pulled away from me, his cock springing upright again. “Steady on, mate. You’ll bring me off!”

I looked up at him, for the first time feeling lust towards another man.

“Let’s do this properly,” I said. “Take your underpants off.”

He yanked his briefs down his legs urgently, and kicked them off onto the floor. His cock arched upwards and his balls dangled downwards, the left one hanging rather lower than the right.

“Get on me,” I ordered him. “Straddle my face. I want to lick your shaft, your balls…”

“Yeah?” he said, looking at me stupidly.

“Yeah,” I stated. “I’ll lie here. You get on me. Cock in my face.”

He looked like he was out of his depth and muttered, “What about me wanking you?”

“That doesn’t matter. Just straddle my face.”

He climbed onto my bed and hunched over my chest, moving his throbbing cock and now free-hanging balls towards my face. As he did so, I got another whiff of that intoxicating odour from them and my own cock throbbed so hard it rose upwards from my stomach; I was more aroused that I had been in a very long time.

Again he directed his cock downwards into my mouth, and I gave him a minute or so of what seemed to be an enjoyable blowjob — one male administering oral stimulation to another. I took as much of his length down into my throat as I could and lapped strenuously at his fattened cock-head with my tongue. The more I licked at the head, the harder it throbbed and the more copious the ooze of salty juices from its puckered slit as he thrust back and forth. He grunted contentedly and held my head, using my mouth as a substitute for the pussy he so desperately wanted.

But my interest was focussed on other things: I wanted to sniff his balls, his pubic hair, the wiry hair between his legs and… what else? My longings, I recognised, weren’t those of a heterosexual man making do; I was fascinated at a basic, purely sexual level by this large excited man whose cock I was dutifully servicing with my mouth and I wanted to take in as much of his hairy, smelly maleness as I could.

I pulled off him and, catching my breath, said, “I want to suck your balls.”

He muttered a bewildered, “Yeah…?” And I realised I was fully in control of this situation. He would do what I wanted him to.

He pushed his bollocks into my face, large and heavy like golf balls inside his furry, wrinkled scrotum and I pressed my face into them, inhaling their musky odour which was more powerful and intense than that of his cock. Again, I felt overcome with lust, all too aware that to me this was a novel and entirely homosexual form of desire but unable and unwilling to resist it.

July 2018
« Feb