tit play

The Photo Album Ch. 03



Please read Chapters 1 and 2 before this next section.



Dinner



Photo 1



The wall clock says 7 pm. The chair holds a large black penis gag with leather straps.



How did S. spend the afternoon? Did she rest in bed as thick pieces of dried spunk on her face, tits and belly cracked and fell onto the expensive sheets. Did she relive the day’s degradations in all their sordid detail? Did she groom herself for the evening onslaught, brushing her hair and applying fresh makeup to her lips and eyes?



Is she proud of her toned body, her hot looks, and curious to see whether the photos do her justice? Or will M. have to force her to view them, documentary evidence of her shameful lust and the demeaning depths she’s sunk to?



She’s already been abused at breakfast and lunch. How much more of this can she stand? Or is her appetite insatiable?



Photo 2



Silhouette view: the now-obedient sub we know as S, looking rested, sits in the chair, her lustful sensuousness coming through the double layers of her young Dom’s sperm juice. She is dressed as at lunchtime: a lacy dark gray European shelf bra and matching stockings, except the stockings are now supported by a garter belt. Still no panties, but she now wears a two-inch wide black leather slave collar. The expensive imported lingerie is an ironic contrast to the blotches of dried cum coating her face, torso and thighs above the stocking tops.



Her hands are clasped behind her head, thrusting the mistreated breasts up and out. Her newly subservient expression is one that welcomes discipline and control.



Photo 3



Close-up looking down at the table top: on the ebony wood stands a large, beautiful martini glass, filled with hot spunk. A wisp of steam arises from the surface.



Photo 4



Close-up: M, S’s young master and possibly her nephew or son as well, is slapping fresh steaming cum onto her nipples with the leather flap at the tip of the crop. The nipples are extended and already dripping.



Photo 5



Medium close-up: thin black leather shoelaces have been looped around both big nipples, binding them. The laces hang down to her belly. M’s thick spunk is oozing out from between the encircling strands of shoelaces.



Is she afraid to be a single woman on her own? Has she grievously offended or actually damaged the young man who controls her?



Photo 6



Close-up: the martini glass has been drained. Strands of thick cum streak the sides.



What would motivate a hot MILF to accept ongoing bondage and discipline like this? Was she like this during her married life? Did she enter the BDSM scene as a teenager? Who introduced and trained her? Does she feel trapped, yearning to get out and go vanilla? Or is this lifestyle of humiliation and servitude the only one that excites and fulfills her?



Photo 7



Full frontal medium shot from the table top to the chair: S. has slid down in the chair so her shaved groin is more easily accessible. Her legs are spread, the ankles are tied to the base of the chair arms, and her heeled shoes are resting on the seat cushion. M. has wound a third leather shoelace around her cum-covered, bulging clit. Two tiny clamps are also torturing each side of her clit hood, exposing the swollen clit stalk.



The thick labia are enclosed in wide chrome clamps. But the slippery lips are not only clamped, they’re also grotesquely stretched. Black cord extends from the clamps to metal rings sewn into the stocking tops, where the laces are tied off. A dark dildo pries apart her clamped and pulled sex lips.



Has she been to sex and swingers’ clubs? For all we know, she’s been used by men – and women – at these venues. She’s certainly hot enough to take them on. With an incredible body and capacity like hers, she could even have been one of the onstage “guest” performers at a bondage club.



Photos 8–14



Close-ups: a flexible drinking straw rests on S’s stretched right nipple. Due to the close-up, we can see that the heavy, transparent straw has been filled with sand and wrapped in a coarse grit of sandpaper. The subsequent photos depict both nipples being whipped on all four sides with the homemade bondage toy. By the end of the series, the nipples have ballooned in size.



Was she trained to be a slave at an exclusive, expensive estate in the country. If so, who paid for her? A domineering boss? A former husband? A leering uncle or wealthy guardian?



Photo 15



Close-up: the tawse hovers above her mound.



Perhaps her sense of self-worth comes only from subjugation to a master and pleasing him.



Photo 16



Close-up: her cunt is engorged and inflamed from a pussy whipping with the tawse.



Maybe she’s a sophisticated player who left the intensity of an urban scene for a quieter life in the ‘burbs, where her predilections could be hidden?



Photo 17



Side view: M. is kneeling on the chair, face-fucking S. while his right hand pulls the nipple shoelaces and his left hand tugs at the clit lace while twisting and bending the clit hood clamps.



Photos 18–20



Head-on close-ups of the bound nipples and clit being bent and tugged.



Could she have been an ambitious, fast-track career woman and single mother who was so overwhelmed that she ignored her fatherless son for years, forgetting birthdays, missing soccer and softball games? Showing up late for parent/teacher conferences? Deeply guilt-ridden, is she now atoning for her sins, welcoming pain and submission to cleanse years of bad behavior?



Photos 21-25



Side and frontal views: M. spurts his cream into his sub’s waiting mouth. Once it’s full, he shoots individual streams 5–10 seconds each onto her tits, belly, stockinged thighs and pussy, the jizz pooling around the black shoelace still mercilessly straining her clit.



Should M. actually be her son, is he punishing an oblivious, absentee mother for years of carelessness, incompetence and disappointment? Has his hurt festered for years into the justifiable severity of a dom? Is he a young man who worshiped his sexpot MILF but feels he has every right to punish her for years of self-centeredness and prolonged neglect?



Photo 26



Medium shot: the black dildo is all the way up her pussy. M. has tied the nipple shoelaces to the clit lace and also fastened them to a ring in her collar, pulling all three to the maximum.



Photo 27



Close-up: S’s lips are bulging around a big ball gag that M. has strapped onto her head. Cum and saliva are leaking from both corners of her mouth.



If so, the high school student wants to not only punish the bad MILF but humiliate her, make her grovel in depravity, rub her face in the tawdry debasement of a cum and pain slut.



Photo 28



From an angle over M’s shoulder: S. is kneeling on a wide bench, knees spread, her head resting on the black leather surface. M. is standing, but supported by the table behind him, his hands with their extra-wide nails pointing his thick cock at the dusky bud of her ass. Her own stubby fingers are visible, pulling apart her ass cheeks so the lubed opening is gaping open, above the dildo rammed into her cunt.



Is she ultimately expecting absolution? Or will the satisfaction of bearing M’s mistreatment, of satisfying his voracious and twisted sexual appetite, be enough solace for her?



Photo 29



Close-up: M’s cockhead is inside her sphincter.



After giving her to friends and neighbors, will he stop? Or is that just a steppingstone to teachers and coaches and counselors, to his uncle and cousin?



Photo 30



Close-up: his prick has pushed all the way into her ass.



Photo 31



M. is striping her ass with a one-foot switch as he fucks it.



She’s been at this so long, her drawers and closets filled. Did it began long ago? Was she initiated as a voluptuous young teenager by an older brother, or a rapacious father? Or was it the other way around? Was she so oversexed, so hungry that she seduced her brother and father with the guarantee that they could do anything to her curious and resilient body?



Photo 32



Medium shot directed down at her face, M. in the background, his arm with the switch raised to strike her again. S. appears to be screaming with pleasure through the ball gag, her eyes defocused, as she cums from the whipping and the two simultaneous cocks.



Is she imagining her first orgy at home as a teen on a sweltering summer afternoon and evening, with her father, uncle and brother indoctrinating her in all the abuses and delights?



Photo 33



S. is lying flat on the bench, front down, her knees spread wide till her legs hang over the sides. We see fresh livid weals, covering not only her ass but also her sweat-drenched thighs. M. has removed the dildo from her pussy, which gapes wantonly, dripping with her juices. Her dark rear hole is also distended, a thick stream of fresh cum pouring out and mingling with her cunt juices, the two substances pooling on the black leather.



Dinner has been served. We are excused.

It was after three by the time we finished our Chinese feast and returned to our bedroom proclivities.



Christine kicked it off by dabbing at my balls with her hot, pink tongue. “She’s gonna suck you so dry you won’t get it up for a month,” Amy chuckled.



In my mind I knew she was serious, but my maleness prodded me into replying inanely, “We’ll see about that, little Miss Green Pants.”



An allusion to Amy’s preference for going to bed in a pair of lime green panties.



Fifteen minutes later, it was Amy with my cock in her mouth while her hands roamed over my ass and between my legs, probing at the base of my balls and the rim of my asshole. She was taking her time, in no hurry at all: Exquisite.



My wife, Christine was lying on her side, one leg nearly straight up in the air. The soft hair in her crotch formed a cushion almost back to her asshole. My face was buried in it, enjoying the pungent aroma of her previous orgasm. It was obvious that no guy’s tongue had ever explored so deeply between her legs before, from the way she squirmed and the little sounds of startled pleasure she made. I nibbled at her clit, pushing its sheath back with my lips and sucking hard on the red protrusion the hood revealed. The muscles in her thighs fluttered.



We went round and round the circle like that for half an hour, all three of us rising to a fever pitch. Then out of the blue, Christine croaked, “Fuck her, Lucas! Fuck Amy!”



I nodded compliance and shook my sweat soaked head once or twice before moving up along Amy’s sweat-streaked body and flicked my cock against the lips of her gaping cunt. She gasped and her lashes flickered. I eased her heels over my shoulders so her knees were up against her chest. Her athletic condition and small build gave her more flexibility than Christine could manage, and her pussy gaped wide. She hunched her hips upward, perhaps unconsciously, and I slid into her vibrating cunt. She moaned and the already snug tunnel squeezed my organ even tighter. I grasped her wrists and pinned them outstretched above her head. I felt her toes curl as her heels pressed down against my shoulders more firmly. My cock pushed against the end of her cunt at each stroke and she drew a sharp intake of breath each time, not of discomfort but because of the electricity passing between us.



I glanced down to watch my cock disappearing into that dark jungle and noticed her clit winking in time with my strokes.



“Do it hard, honey,” my wife whispered in my ear. “She loves it hard!”



I began to slam into her with enough force to make her breasts bounce, but not enough to actually cause her pain. She wanted hard, I was giving her hard. Besides, I was enjoying it myself. I pulled her wrists a little straighter and her fingers writhed and curled into fists.



“Hook your ankles together behind my neck,” I rasped, and she did. If I had had the opportunity to script this scene, I would have wound a telephone cord or something around Amy’s ankles and tied her wrists to a couple of chair legs.



Now her eyes were closed and her head swung back and forth. She was even biting her lip. I leaned down and kissed the side of her throat, then moved up to the hollow space behind the hinge of her jaw. Then, as I thundered into my orgasm, I bit down slightly on her earlobe.



She jerked once, then again, and uttered a small cry. And then she was flooded by a paroxysm of a climax, her thighs jerking, her arm muscles spasming, as she came and came.



Finally, both of us ran down and I relieved the strain on her wrists. She let her feet fall to the floor and wrapped her arms loosely around my neck. All she could say between gasps was “Wow….”



I held my weight above her on my elbows but kept my cock in her for a few minutes. I pushed into her a short distance every fifteen or twenty seconds and her cunt jerked. She giggled at her own reaction and squirmed with delayed responses. This was something else I had learned from my wife − that a girl’s cunt is very sensitive to aftershocks − and I was passing that knowledge on to her sister, who apparently had never experienced it before.



I slid the palms of my hands under her upper back and arched her ribcage upward so I could reach her nipples with my mouth. They were also hypersensitive now and when I sucked on each one for a minute or two, Amy moaned and hugged me tighter.



Finally, I began to develop a cramp in my upper arm and, regretfully, I withdrew my cock from her and rolled over onto my side. I studied her face in some fascination, my head propped up on the palm of my hand. Her eyes were half-closed, from physical exhaustion as much as sexual satiety, I thought. Her breathing was becoming regular again and there were beads of musky sweat drying on her body. Her pubic hair was stiff and spiky with escaped semen and red patches on her body showed the pressure of my weight on her.



Her knees were still bent and her legs parted. She looked rather like she had lost a wrestling match, except that the slightly dazed smile on her lips was happy and satisfied. My arms and legs were stiffening up and my cock felt worn to a stub. There was a mixture of semen and the cunt juices of two girls stiffening in my pubic hair as well. It had been quite an evening… but it wasn’t over yet.



I looked around for Christine, but didn’t see her. There were however, moans of a sexual nature coming from the master bath. Holding a finger to my lips, I signaled Amy that I was going after my wife.



She giggled happily and waved me off.



I paused and looked down at her lithe, firm nakedness, now displayed full-length. She stretched again, partly for my benefit, eyes closed and smiling. Very nice indeed.



I padded quietly to the entrance to the master bath and peeked inside. It was pretty obvious, from the rhythmic creaking of porcelain and the breathy gasping sounds, what was occurring inside. I opened the door and stepped in.



Christine had straddled the toilet and was facing the wall. Her right hand appeared to be buried in her cunt; her left was bracing her from falling off the porcelain bowl onto the tile floor.



With each thrust of her hand her breasts bounced and jiggled and her hair flew in all directions from her strenuous exertions. Christine looked over her shoulder and smiled at me for a moment but never changed her rhythm. I moved closer and squeezed both of her lovely tits. She smiled again. Then I felt a small, warm hand on my shoulder blade and another hand slid smoothly down my ass. Amy had joined us, standing on tiptoe to see her sister’s masturbation. Moments later she rested her chin on my shoulder for a better view.



Christine held out her hand to her sister and drew her around from behind me. She moved Amy’s hands to her breasts and encouraged her to squeeze and fondle them as I had done. Amy didn’t hesitate, which surprised me a bit − though it probably shouldn’t have by that time. In fact, she positioned herself so that I had access to her breasts and I promptly began rolling her still-prominent nipples between thumb and finger while nipping lightly at the back of her neck.



I sent my thumb back into Amy’s ass, which was still sweaty and internally moist and my finger crept past her snug sphincter with little resistance. It was a sensation I’ve always had a taste for, though I was seldom able to indulge it with anyone except Christine.



Amy trembled a little and arched her back farther as my finger gradually slid in until the palm of my hand was flat against her buttocks. I wiggled my finger experimentally and Amy gasped in response.



“You like that?” I whispered behind her ear.



“Mmmm… yeah, I really do!”



Her hands continued to knead Christine’s tits and my wife looked like she was building to an explosion.



“Kiss her, Amy,” I whispered. “Kiss her deep, like you would a guy.”



There was no hesitation by either girl: Amy lowered her face and Christine tilted hers upward. The joining of their lips was steady and prolonged, involving much activity by at least two tongues. I curled my buried forefinger and lifted a bit − a favorite maneuver that nearly always had the desired effect on the recipient −and Amy moaned passionately and clenched her ass muscles, squeezing my finger in a warm, wet, tight embrace.



Both girls came moments later. We decided that we’d call it a night and tumbled into bed without showering again.



Amy left the following afternoon, and Christine and I were quiet about the events of the previous night for several days. Then over steaks we grilled on the barbeque, we discussed what had happened. I assured her that I had no regrets and asked if she did.



“The incestuous part bothered me. It bothers me a lot.”



“What incestuous part are you talking about?” I asked gently.



“What Amy and I did together.”



“All I saw you do was kiss. How incestuous is that?”



“Is that all we did?”



“Well, aside from, say you putting my dick in her, or vice versa, I’m not sure as to who did what to whom, but, yeah, that’s all. Oh, yeah, she rubbed your tits a little, but that’s hardly incestuous.”



“Really?”



“Yeah, really.”



“I thought for sure I’d gone down on her.”



“No way, I took care of all the pussy eating at the festival.”



Christine laughed then giggled. I felt an enormous pressure lift from my shoulders. “You did, didn’t you?”



“Yeah, I did.”



“And you were very good. I gave you top marks.”



“Thank you, I did my best.”



“Did you enjoy our little surprise?”



“I loved every minute of it.”



“So, would you be open to a repeat performance?”



“After an appropriate rest period, yes.”



*****



And so, three months later, Christine and I went to vacation in New Orleans. It wasn’t a coincidence that Amy lived in Metairie, which was a stone’s throw from our hotel.



The girls wanted to spend the afternoon shopping, knew it wasn’t my cup of tea and so Amy scrounged a ticket for me to the Saints game that afternoon. I went alone and thoroughly enjoyed myself.



Following the game I took a taxi to Amy’s apartment in Metairie.



In the elevator on the way up, I was already getting hard in my pants, thinking about Amy’s naked body and her sex drive. What lay in store for me this time? Would the girls cross the line and engage in some incestuous acts?



I pressed the buzzer, and my wife, Christine let me in. She wore a skirt and a soft sports bra, nothing else.



She pulled me inside, and closed the door. “You’re early! How was the game?” She said and melted into my arms as our mouths renewed acquaintances again.



My hands automatically covered her body, one hand under her skirt to palm her damp pussy, the other under the sports bra to find her very pliant breasts.



“Get a room will you?” Amy’s chipper voice called out as she entered the room and gave me a kiss on the lips with just a little tongue added for good measure. She was wearing a royal blue sundress, and I wondered if she had her favorite green undies on beneath it.



“This is the room,” I said and cupped her ass with the hand that had just been rubbing my wife’s pussy.



“My, aren’t we eager?” Amy laughed as she pushed my hand away.



“Don’t worry; you’ll be getting plenty.”



So, it would be a repeat performance. I thought happily.



“C’mon, sit down; we have some drinks made,” Christine said casually.



I sat down on the couch; there were small bowls of snacks on the table, some cheese, crackers and fruit. Amy started pouring what turned out to be vodka martinis into three cocktail glasses.



“I’ve been thinking about sex all day,” Christine giggled, and I knew this wasn’t her first drink of the day. “I mean, with you. Amy has too,” she added and giggled again like a mischievous child.



“Well, I can’t believe how lucky I am.”



“We think we’re lucky too, sweetie. You know, most guys would find this… being with me, or I should say, us, weird.” Christine smiled. “Am I weird?”



I laughed. “Sweetie, we’ve got high sex drives, and urges that are compatible, and a little kinky.”



She laughed, and we spent some time just looking into each other’s eyes, and then she broke the contact to gulp down most of her martini and quickly poured herself another.



“Don’t get drunk on me,” I said trying to make it humorous and not bossy-sounding.



Christine adjusted her bra, making her breasts jiggle. “I was thinking, maybe in the bedroom, we could let you decide what you want to do… you know, with us.”



“That sounds great,” I said. “But I don’t care what we do as long as everyone is agreeable beforehand. We don’t want anyone to be hurt. We’re here to have fun and enjoy ourselves, right?”



Both women agreed with me, and Christine began unbuttoning my shirt.



“Doesn’t he have the most fantastic chest, Amy?”



“Mmmm, yes, he certainly does.”



A moment later there were four hands roaming my chest. It felt pretty good.



“I should return the favor, ladies. Let me see those tits, will you?”



Christine quickly lost the sports bra and Amy shimmied out of the sundress. She was wearing the lime green panties, and I pointed at them and laughed.



“Never mind the panties,” Amy said, “Pay attention to our tits.”



And I did; palming Amy’s left breast with one hand and leaning into suck on my wife’s right nipple while Amy unzipped my fly and freed my hardon.



I played windshield wiper, moving from breast to breast, trying to give each one the same and proper amount of attention they called for.



Apparently I managed to do a decent job of it, for Amy soon had both hands on my head holding me fast to her left nipple. Christine spent a moment or two getting me out of my slacks and then began stroking my cock to keep it at the ready.



Several minutes passed before Christine pried her sister away from me, shoving Amy’s face into my lap while telling me to suck her tit for a while. I nursed away at my wife and Amy slobbered over my dick for the next few minutes. And then, to my astonishment, the girls stood up, leaving me on the couch and demanded to know what I was going to do to them.



Feeling humorous at the time, I replied, “If I’d known I would have consulted a choreographer and worked out a routine.”



“Very funny, Lucas,” Christine huffed.



“C’mon, Lucas, you must have a plan of some type,” Amy added.



“Well I don’t. But let’s think about it. We can certainly devise one if you think it’s necessary.”



“Think, then,” they said in unison.



“Well, we’ve had every kind of sex there is, what more could I ask you to do?”



“I’m not sure about that,” my wife said and she glanced at her sister, who nodded in agreement.



In the far recesses of my mind it occurred to me that just perhaps they wanted me to be the catalyst in their having sex with one another. They wouldn’t do it voluntarily, but would if I insisted upon it.



I struggled with the concept and the most likely results. I didn’t like the answer for it brought too many potential problems with it.



Christine brought matters to a head, saying, “What if we gave you complete control? You know, just to see what you’d have us all do.”



I looked at Amy.



“Yeah,” she said, “You get to control what happens.”



“Okay, but I think you’ll find it’s pretty much the same stuff − fucking and sucking.”



Amy laughed, “Sounds good to me.”



“Me too,” Christine said with a knowing smirk.



“Let’s get naked then,” I said and stripped the remainder of my clothing off while the girls did the same. We made our way into the bedroom, with Amy chanting, “Eat our pussies, eat our pussies!”



“Sounds great.” I laughed, “You know I love to eat pussy.”



“After that, you can do whatever you like with us,” Amy said, “If you want something, don’t be shy, just say it.”



“I won’t be shy.” I smiled, “anything else?”



“Rules… we need some rules.”



“Such as?”



“There are lines we won’t cross, Lucas,” Christine said. But her eyes told me they might cross any line if I demanded it of them.



“Understood. No problem.”



The air was heavy with lust, and anticipation. I thought back to what Christine and I had talked about on the way to New Orleans; what was off limits between them. No pussy licking or touching, no fingering. Nipples were a maybe, kissing okay to a point. But what point?



Christine let out a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”



I put my arms out and drew both of them to me. They were already moaning. To slow them down, I touched Amy’s face and led her lips to mine. She swallowed my tongue. My right arm went around Christine’s slender waist, my left around Amy’s body. Two pairs of lovely tits pressed again my chest. Then I was kissing Amy, snaking my hands around, running them over their firm buttocks, around to the front, dipping a finger into one pussy then the other.



I returned to kissing my wife, and then Amy, only to switch again a minute or two later. I think I had Amy’s tongue in my mouth when I maneuvered myself so that I had the fingers of each hand in different pussies at the same time.



Heaven!



“You’re both wet.” I said, as Christine broke the kiss.



“Who am I going to eat first?”



“Me!” said Christine.



“Let’s get on the bed then.”



Christine pulled the top blanket back off the bed, and got down and spread her legs.



“Can Amy hold your legs apart?”



The question required no answer as Amy sat down next to us, grabbed her sister’s soft thighs and gently spread them apart for me. I dropped my face onto Christine’s neatly trimmed pussy, and then looked up. Amy was smiling down at me, and I winked at her before curling my tongue and licking my wife’s clit.



“YES!” Christine shrieked.



Amy started giggling and couldn’t stop.



The clean, fresh scent of Christine’s arousal surrounded me as I peered into the coral opening and marveled at the many pleasures it offered. Then I got into it, licking her full length, teasing her inner labia, running patterns over her clit. She moaned and struggled, her legs reflexively trying to close around my head, but held in place by her sister’s hands. I put two fingers inside and gently pressed upward thereby applying pressure to her clit from the inside. She starting going crazy. I let her writhe against my chin while continuously licking away at her. Her position kept her from coming quickly.



Glancing upward, I saw Amy watching us with a hungry intensely. Her face was no more than a foot away. I replaced my swirling tongue with a swirling finger, keeping Christine going, as I lifted up slightly and planted a kiss on Amy’s surprised mouth. I was already drunk with the scent and taste of Christine’s pussy, and now I sent my tongue into Amy’s mouth, and she eagerly sucked her sister’s pussy juice from it.



I returned to clit-sucking, and Amy laughed and called me a naughty boy and possibly something else, but just then Christine moaned, “I’m… I’m gonna….” And hips smacking into my face, she came then went silent; but her body kept shaking. I kept sucking her clit, all the way through it.



“Oh… my… God!” Amy gasped, “That was beautiful.”



My cock was straining painfully against the bed under me, and I was leaking pre-cum big time. I struggled with the urge to just climb up and start slamming Christine’s tight pussy. I wanted to make sure fulfilled my obligation first.



“I think it’s your turn, Amy,” I said weakly.



We gently moved the quivering Christine to one side and Amy moved into position, spreading her legs for me. I ran a finger over her slit, from bottom to top. The soft hair and labia spread gently, revealing the flower within. “I always love to watch.” Christine said and slowly rolled onto her right side, propped her head up on an elbow, and prepared to watch her sister and I go at it.



Amy’s pussy was very wet; her taste thick on my tongue. I licked her full length, my face getting slick with her juices. I pressed my tongue inwards to caress her inner folds, then started rhythmic patterns around her clit.

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