Posts Tagged ‘control’

The Dilemma

As the tattooist’s needle pierced my delicate skin and the painful process of inscribing the company logo above my bare pussy proceeded, I began to think again of all the chaos I’d recently caused. Derrick’s bankruptcy and impending incarceration, the rapes of Carla and Amber, and the anguish that awaits my husband. I knew too what awaits me, the same fate that Belinda, my predecessor met. She would be sold, she was informed, but Mr. Stanford also gave her permission to take her own life, an option she accepted gratefully. But how had I come to this? How had I, a young and innocent bride until just eighteen months ago, come to be lying naked on a table about to be indelibly marked as “company property”? How had I, a unworldly, naïve, Christian girl, agreed to have my ass branded with Mr. Damon’s and Mr. Compton’s initials and so readily accepted my status.

I don’t know how I managed to get myself in this terrible fix. A mere year ago, I was a twenty-one-year-old, faithful wife. And only yesterday, I was sitting nude on the couch in Mr. Damon’s office listening distractedly to him describing my present condition. Suddenly, I heard him abruptly stop talking and point suddenly at me. Looking down, I realize that I’d unconsciously crossed my legs. I instantly uncrossed them. I’ve been told many times that in Mr. Damon’s or Mr. Compton’s presence my legs are always to be open and accessible. Mr. Damon just shook his head in frustration at my stupidity, and continued on. I hadn’t been listening, but I paid attention now.

“As you know, Chloe,” Mr. Damon resumed, “Chuck and I have been discussing how we want you marked now for some time, and we’ve decided to move ahead. This weekend, a tattooist I’ve hired will come here and mark the area directly above your cunt with our logo, and just below that he’ll inscribe ‘Exclusive property of First Capital Investments, Inc.’ On the following weekend, we’ll both brand our initials into your ass. Do you have any questions?”

Though I knew this was coming, I couldn’t really comprehend it. My attention was oddly captured by a tiny drop of cum glistening on my breast. It must have fallen there while I was cleaning Mr. Damon’s cock. I absently mindedly wiped it and placed it dutifully in my mouth.

So I’m to be permanently marked as private property. How will I ever explain that to my husband? Maybe I never will. I know I’m going to be told to leave him, anyway, so what does it ultimately matter.

“No, sir,” I answered. “I don’t have any questions. “I suppose it will hurt a lot, won’t it.”

“Yes, I suppose it will,” Mr. Damon answered sympathetically, “especially the branding. But you need to marked, Chloe. Both Mr. Compton and I agree on that, as does Mr. Stanford. I assume we have your consent.”

“Yes,” I haltingly said. “It’s just that it will be hard to explain.”

The pain of the needle inking my tender pussy suddenly made me begin to think about all that had led me to this tattoo parlor and the end of what little freedom I had left.

The Beginning of Something

Joey and I had been together since I was a freshman in high school and he a junior. We were never an “item.” Neither of us was popular enough for that designation, but that’s probably why we were always so close. I had been raised in a very strict and very Christian family, so I never was allowed to dress in any way that was fashionable. In my family, everything fashionable was “sinful,” anything that would show any hint of my burgeoning body was “moral turpitude.” I was frightened of sex, and the natural inclinations of a budding young woman that emerged at night in erotic dreams and longings paralyzed me the next morning. The pull of hormones tugging at my protective veil of Christian piety turned me into a reclusive young girl terrified of the changes her body and mind were going through.

Joey, though smart, was simply skinny and awkward and attracted no attention whatsoever. But I liked him. He was shy enough to never press me for sex and observant enough to notice the changes going on. We sort of became our own society and built a pretty strong bond. He was my only boyfriend, and I assumed that would always be the case, so upon my graduation, marriage seemed an easy and seamless step. We married shortly after I graduated. I was barely eighteen. Joey was twenty one.

Joey had gotten a job at a garage downtown shortly after his own graduation. He’d always been very good with his hands and automobile mechanics seemed to come naturally to him, so he did very well very early on. Unfortunately, he didn’t make enough money for me to pursue my dream of a college degree in English literature, so I found work as a receptionist at a stock brokerage firm in town with hours flexible enough for me to take some early afternoon and evening classes at the local college.

I’d always done well in high school, especially in my English classes, where the romance of books could shield me from the drabness of the real world I lived in, and my English teachers, most notably Mr. Barnes, all took an avid interest in my education. I say Mr. Barnes most notably because he alone also seemed to take notice of me as a woman, a “blossoming” woman, as he would sometimes put it. It was terribly flattering, exhilarating actually, to be noticed the way he noticed my changes.

I truly was blossoming. My body began to change most dramatically in my sophomore year when Mr. Barnes first met me, and by my senior year, when I enrolled in his honors lit class, I knew, even if no one else did, that I had a fabulous body. It embarrasses me now to think of the hours I spent in front of the mirror admiring the new fullness of my breasts, the waspish size of my waist, and the full and erotic curve of my hips or the hours afterwards when I would reprimand myself for my hideous depravity. My breasts were probably a little too large for my frame, but it really didn’t matter because I was also painfully shy from early years of being “plain” and so intrinsically fearful of “damnation” as well, that in public, I took pains to cover up all of this “blossom” that only Mr. Barnes appeared to see.

After graduation, life began to change pretty remarkably. More and more people began to take notice of me and to remark on my appearance, some of it nice, some of it creepy. On countless occasions, I noticed men following me around the supermarket and not infrequently at the local mall, too. I was still quite shy about all this obvious attention and quite certain that the temptation I felt to flaunt my body was the work of the devil, but I was also oddly flattered and exhilarated at the same time. I even found myself occasionally giving in to the devil’s temptation and “posing” for some of the guys I knew were checking me out, and then feeling ashamed moments later when I’d remind myself that I was now a newly married woman. But I had to admit more and more that I enjoyed being looked at.

Later that summer, I had my hair cut into the more flattering shape my hair dresser had been recommending and let him colored it a much lighter shade of blonde than my natural ash. The hair style and color proved perfect, complementing my face, drawing attention to the fullness of my lips, and emphasizing what I’d always thought to be one of my better features, the deep hazel hue my eyes,. With Joey’s encouragement, I bought a new and more flattering wardrobe. Skirts a little shorter and tighter, sweaters a bit clingier and lower cut, and an attitude a little less meek and retiring, but by no means arrogant or showy. A different woman was emerging from her chrysalis.

A Trip to the Mall

It’s interesting, now that I think back on it, how important to our future one afternoon and one outfit became to the new me. And to the new “us.”

It was a warm early spring afternoon the following year. I was lounging around the apartment in sheer tights and a light sweater when Joey asked me to run over to Sears at the mall with him to get some tool he needed for work. I said, sure, but I needed to change first.

“Nah, come on. You look fine. It’s only Sears,” he said distractedly.

“I don’t have anything on under this, Joey. Don’t you think I should at least put on a bra?”

“Nobody will know. Come on,” he said, seemingly exacerbated at my reluctance.

“Okay,” I said, suddenly feeling a very unfamiliar but erotic sensation. I’d never been out of the house without a bra. Regardless of what Joey might think, sans bra, my boobs were certainly going to be noticed in this outfit! And for some sudden and inexplicable reason the whole idea seemed exciting! I wanted my boobs to be noticed! “Let me grab my shoes,” I said, trying to tamp down my rising excitement.

The first shoes I came to were totally inappropriate—four inch, black stiletto pumps I’d bought for the senior prom last year. And that’s what I picked.

I threw on a little wind breaker and ran out to the car where Joey was waiting. He gave me the strangest stare, and his “Ready to go?” had an odd excitement to it. A sort of sexual tension that I immediately got caught up in as well. Maybe he wasn’t so “distracted” as I thought. We rode to the mall in a strange silence, tinged with what I could only sense was sexual stimulation mixed with anxiety.

As we got out of the car at the mall, Joey suggested I leave the jacket in the car. I hesitated a second, afraid that Joey would be embarrassed by what he would now clearly see was my almost blatant nakedness beneath my tights and sweater, but I did as he asked. Neither of us said a word as we walked to the mall entrance, but I could see Joey stealing surreptitious glances at my boobs bouncing tantalizingly under the tight sweater as I walked in those totally inappropriate but sexy little pumps. I should have blushed, but instead I was as keyed up as I’d ever been.

In the mall, it was apparent that not only Joey was watching and admiring the body walking beside him. I thought he’d surely see the commotion I was causing and be uncomfortable or self-conscious, but he didn’t seem to be. In fact, he seemed to be suddenly quite possessive, as if he wanted everyone to see that the little “sexpot” next to him belonged to him. I could sense his heart beating faster. I was puzzled, but interested, too. This seemed so unlike him.

I began to be a little more overt, just to see what happened. I deliberately paraded my body, transparently expressing my sexuality in the most obvious manner. The more obvious I became, the more excited Joey became. And so did I.

For the next month or so, every time we’d go somewhere, at Joey’s implicit suggestion, I’d dress in some similar fashion. He never asked outright, he was still too shy for that, but I could see by his reaction that he wanted this to continue. So I accommodated him…and me! I showed more and more flesh in what I wore. More leg, and definitely more boob. Each time we went out, I’d ratchet it up just a teeny bit, so by midsummer, when we went out, Joey had a very sexy young “slut” hanging all over him.

Joey grew increasingly happy with the new me. He’d never been much noticed in high school, but now he was getting noticed for his “bitch,” as he put it one night. And he loved it! More and more!

I don’t deny that I did, too. I loved the attention and most of the comments I’d overhear murmured under a guy’s’ breath. Our sex life got better when Joey began to encourage me to tell him about the guys who’d look at me and at what I’d overhear them say. I learned early on that, if I embellished the stories, our sex was even better.

I began to wear sexier clothes at work, too, shedding the drab, loose-fitting blouses and sweaters and the long granny skirts for a more modern look that highlighted my figure a little more and drew attention to the body beneath. Nothing was inappropriate, but fortunately for me, since contemporary style the last few seasons so emphasized the breast, I could be quite innocently sexy and provocative. And naturally, the looks and compliments I got at work were translated into much more flirtatious and more tantalizing remarks about what was said and done later in the bedroom to Joey. Our sex got better and better.

We even discovered porn, which at first embarrassed both of us, but soon became another part of our weekend love making. Joey became quite intrigued that nearly all the porn stars kept themselves totally shaved, and I agreed that it was a very sleek and sexy look. At Joey’s urging, I soon did the same, and loved the feel of Joey’s touch on the silky smooth skin of my tight young pussy. Joey came almost to depend both on our occasional porn movies and even more on the stories I’d embellish for our sex life.

At first, he’d want to know who “liked” me at work and who “wanted” me the most. Later, he’d ask me who I was most attracted to, and though I was reluctant to say anything at first, when I discovered that even an innocent preference for one of the guys increased his performance, I subtly began to admit to certain preferences. If my stories required considerable variance from the truth, they were also extraordinarily hot…for both of us!

As things progressed, I began to give Joey little fashion shows, shows that always turned into sexy little strip teases. Joey would name all the guys he knew who would “die to see this,” guys at work who had made comments about his “hot wife.” He suggest that maybe we should tease them that way sometime, and I’d go along with it, shaking my boobs and wiggling my ass, pretending I was in front of them. It was all harmless fun.

We began to take fun “risks,” making our sex life a little more dangerous. I had this cute mask that I got at a party shop for Halloween last year, and one night I became the “mysterious lady” who seduced my husband in our bed. Joey loved it! Then one weekend afternoon, I walked out onto our patio completely nude with the mask on and Joey again just went wild.

The next day, we drove out to his mother’s house to water her plants while she was away, and Joey surprised me with the mask. He wanted to take pictures of me. Outside! Totally nude! I probably too readily agreed. The idea was exciting and dangerous, the great aphrodisiacs of our sex life.

We went out into his mother’s backyard, where I sexily stripped for him. I was so excited because it seemed so perilous. Though trees surrounded the yard, I was certain we were clearly visible from the street. But I posed nonetheless, my heart pounding and my excitement peaking. Later, we made love right there on the little love seat we had dragged out for the pictures! That was truly risky and terribly thrilling.

That night, Joey drove me home nude, which was a bit more frightening than I wished at the time, but we ended up doing it again on two other occasions, one time stopping off to neck in the park. We were just two kids, discovering the sex life we never had in school.

We had a party one Saturday night and invited some of Joey’s friends from work. Joey dressed me in something totally inappropriate, a teeny, tiny little Lycra micro mini, fishnet stockings and a bustier! I looked like a hooker, but Joey told me the next day that his friends at work couldn’t stop talking about how hot his wife is. I got really icy stares from the wives all night though, and I’ll bet they were talking about me in a very different fashion the next day. But I didn’t like any of them anyway, so no loss.

This sort of thing went on for the better part of the year, and for a time, it was enough. We were still experimenting with sex and with what we’d become. That was especially true for me. I became increasingly proud, maybe even a little conceited about my appearance, which led me more and more to encourage Joey to show me off. I don’t think I was really sluttish, but I knew I was becoming somewhat of an exhibitionist. And it was fun!

I would still have occasional devastating attacks of guilt and remorse, thinking I was becoming a terrible harlot, but they grew less frequent in time, until eventually I quit beating myself up morally and eventually even stopped attending church altogether. Maybe that was a mistake.

The Club

Early the next summer, a package arrived in the mail for me. It was from an online dress store, some place called “Wicked Temptations.” I hadn’t ordered anything online, and even though it was addressed to me, I decided not to open it. I showed the package to Joey when he came home, and he laughed and said he’d ordered a dress for me as a kind of joke.

“Here, take a look,” he laughed, opening the package and passing the dress to me. “Try it on.”

“Try it on?” I said. “There’s hardly anything to try on,” I laughed, holding up this little fluff of material. “What were you thinking?”

Of course I did know what he was thinking. Our latest adventures had shown me that. But the closer I looked the more intrigued I became both by the dress and by the fact that Joey had purchased it “for fun.” It looked extremely revealing, to put it mildly, and really, really sexy. And I did want to try it on, maybe more than he knew, though I pretended not to.

“Oh come on, Chloe. Try it on. It’s no big deal. It might be fun.”

“You are so silly, Joey,” I laughed. “Okay, you wait right there and I’ll give you a fashion show!”

I went into the bedroom, quickly stripped off my work clothes, and held the little dress up against my naked body. There wasn’t much of it there. It was completely backless and short, and appeared to have a deeply plunging cowl-neck front. An eye-grabbing red, it was composed of a synthetic silk fiber of some sort that was slippery smooth and luxurious to touch. It excited me merely to look at it, and I actually trembled when I slipped it on. I was astonished when I turned to look in the mirror.

Stunned and excited, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and blood rushing to my face as I glanced again at the girl in the red dress. The dress was not only tight, it was impossibly tight, and clingy, adhering itself to every curve and crevice of my body. And it was not only short, it was exceedingly short, falling only a few inches below my bottom and hugging it provocatively. It dipped so low in the back that a good part of my butt was clearly visible, as was the sides of my boobs.

But it was the front that was most shocking. It was a simple cowl neck, but it plunged well below my navel and was wide enough to display almost the entirety of my breasts. No matter which way I’d turn, more would be displayed than covered. Walking, it was almost impossible to keep myself from spilling out with any step whatsoever, especially given the size of my boobs. It was like wearing water. At every step, some part of my body spilled out. Leaving me literally on complete display. I looked desirable and available…very available!

I could never wear it in public, unless I were to stand immobile, but how I wished I could, because I had never, ever looked or felt so sexy. I just couldn’t wear it in public…. I was determined, though, to let Joey persuade me otherwise!

I walked back toward the front room trying my best to stay in the dress. Entering the room and standing provocatively in the doorway I said, “If you want me to wear this, I must have better shoes!” trying to sound sexy and sultry but bursting almost immediately into a giggling fit.

“Goddamn it, Chloe! You look freakin’ hot. You could wear it at some of the clubs over in Bayside,” he said, after some hesitation, his voice cracking just a bit.

“You’re not serious, I hope. I could never wear this in public,” I said, hoping he was serious. I really wanted to be seen in this stunningly sexy excuse for a dress.

“Well, why not?” Joey answered, looking me up and down. “You really do look outrageously hot, Baby. It could be fun if you would. I’ll help you pick shoes,” he laughed.

“I’d be arrested if I wore this!” I smiled. “But it would be fun, wouldn’t it…?”

We were in bed within minutes and had terrific sex fantasizing about me in that outrageous little dress. I was a little vixen in bed, and our sex fantasy that night was very persuasive. I wanted to be seen in public in that tantalizingly sexy little dress!

Nothing further was said about the dress for a week or so, but the next day, I bought the perfect pair of shoes for our little fantasy dress, red six inch sling-back heels, but I never said anything to Joey about it.

On Friday, a week later, Joey suggested we go out to one of the clubs in Bayside, The Blues Baby, one we’d heard about but never visited. It had a reputation as a pick-up club, and though both of us knew that, neither of us mentioned it. An odd choice, I thought, but a curiously exciting one, too.

“Maybe I’ll wear the dress you bought me,” I joked.

“Well, maybe you should,” Joey replied, not looking directly at me.

“Do you have sufficient bail money?” I grinned.

“Oh come on, Chloe. It’s not that bad,” he answered, apparently seriously. “You see lots of that in the clubs around here. I mean we’re not in the Midwest.”

“Do you really want me to?” I asked, hoping so much that he did.

“Sure, why not. You have the body for it.”

“I couldn’t wear a thing underneath it, you know,” I said, my voice betraying my excitement at the erotic danger.

“We’re young and we’ve never done anything like this before. The guys at work all do this sort of thing all the time, you know, go out, drink, dance, show off their wives or girlfriends on the dance floor. None of them have what I’ve got, so I’d like to show mine off too.”

“You don’t dance, Joey. You hate it, as you’ve told me countless times.”

“But you do, and I wouldn’t mind watching. Watch guys eat their hearts out wanting what I have. Come on what do you say? We’ve always talked about being ‘bad.’ Let’s just do it once.”

“Are you really sure, Honey? Do you remember what I look like in that dress? I’m practically nude!”

“I do remember, Baby. That’s why I think it would be like totally hot, let the jerks at work see how hot my wife is.”

That remark surprised me a bit. He wants to show me off to his coworkers because it reflects well on him, I thought. I’m not a complete feminist, but enough of one to know objectification when I hear it. I was about to say that that was maybe a teeny bit offensive, when it occurred to me, that perhaps, for once in my life, I wouldn’t mind being an “object,” something for guys to stare at and ogle. Not at all!

“Are guys from work going to be there?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Let’s just do it regardless, okay.”

“Okay, Joey, if you’re really, really sure. But this is kinda more than we did last summer. I really cannot stay inside the dress you bought, you know. Every time I move something spills out,” I said seriously.

“I’ll be right there. It’ll be okay. You really do look hot, Babe,” he answered bravely.

I had serious doubts about Joey’s ability to rescue me from any serious trouble, but I just let it go.

“Okay,” I said. “If you’re really okay with this, I guess I could try to be your little sexpot this weekend,” I went on, trying to be less of a cold blanket. “You can have fun showing me off. I’ll be happy to have you display me, okay. I think it could be lots of fun, too! You’re right; maybe we’re too conservative sometimes.”

I took Friday afternoon off from work to have my hair and nails done, and spent the later part of the day on my makeup. Joey had counter duty at work that Friday, so he wouldn’t be home until 9:00, so I had plenty of time to muse over the evening ahead. Unfortunately, the more I mused, the more nervously excited I became, so to calm myself down I made myself a vodka tonic.

I tried the dress on a half dozen times, posing in various positions. I soon knew what every single movement and angle would reveal. None were modest! Dancing, if I decided to, would be particularly precarious, because there was hardly a step, especially in these six inch stilettos, that didn’t almost instantly expose me totally. There would be very little left to the imagination of Joey’s coworkers, if what I expected to happen did happen.

By the time Joey got home, I was a little bit tipsy, but also much calmer and braver. I wasn’t dressed yet, but I had only to slip out of my robe and into that excuse for a dress to be ready.

Joey showered and dressed and by a little after 10:00 we were ready to go. I slipped on the dress, wearing only very, very sheer red thigh high stockings beneath, and with the help of four vodka tonics, said sexily, “What do you think?” thrusting my boobs in his face.

“Wow, Chloe. I guess you look a little more on display than I thought.”

“Too much,” I asked hesitantly, terribly afraid he was about to back out. I’d do anything I could to prevent that. “Will it bother you for the guys at work to see your wife like this?” I asked, hoping the idea of showing me off would make him determined to let me wear the dress.

“No, I guess not,” he replied a bit uneasily. “None of the guys at work are going to be there anyway, far as I know. You do look good. You have a beautiful body. The dress looks a little different tonight though than it did when you first tried it on.”

He was right that the dress looked slightly different. I was nearing that time of month, and my boobs were easily a full cup size larger than when I had first modeled the dress for him, so the dress covered even less now than it did when it stunned him with its brevity before. I was, shall we say, utterly and totally on display!

A great surge of relief went through me when I heard him agree that I looked good and he was, if not completely comfortable with the way I was dressed, at least willing to go along with it. I desperately wanted to be seen in this hot little outfit, for once, to be the object of desire. It was truly like a coming out for me.

The club turned out to be great! It was dimly lit and “bluesy,” the bar was filled but not cramped, and the crowd was a good mix of young and old. We found a couple of great seats at the bar near the dance floor and ordered drinks. I was only nineteen at the time, and afraid I’d get carded, but apparently the body on display in that teeny, slinky red dress proved identification enough.

Feeling sexy and sophisticated, I ordered my first martini. It turned out to be way strong! I was feeling the effects before I finished the first one, especially after all I’d had to drink while getting dressed. I knew my inhibitions were slipping away when I noticed the cowl neck on my dress had shifted dramatically to the left exposing my boob to just beyond the edge of my nipple. I saw that Joey noticed, too. But I didn’t do anything about it except grow progressively more excited. The same was true for him.

“I’d really like to dance, Joey. I wish you would,” I pleaded in his ear, bending over to expose that same breast entirely to him and anyone else who cared to look.

“I suck. I look totally stupid trying to dance. You know that. Believe me, somebody will ask you.”

“Not with you sitting there,” I pouted.

“What, you want me to leave?”

“Not leave, but maybe like just go to the bathroom for a few minutes and see what happens, okay? I really, really feel like dancing. And you said you want me to, right?”

“Yeah, I do. Okay, but don’t get too crazy,” he said. “But maybe a little crazy,” he grinned.

“Okay, but like don’t come back right away. Give somebody a chance to pick me up. Then you can ‘rescue’ me, k?” I said more keyed up and eager than I should have been.

I smiled back at him wickedly and winked as he left for the bathroom.

The second he was out of sight, I sat back in my chair and let the dress do what it wanted, and what it wanted was to exhibit me to the world. Exactly what I wanted, too!

The bartender brought me another martini. “From the guy over there,” he said, eyeing my exposed breasts while pointing to an older guy, maybe late thirties early forties, who was nodding at me.

I smiled back at him, turning slightly to let the dress gape open again.

He seemed content to just stare at me, so I made sure he had an awful lot of flesh to please his eye. I was sitting so that from his angle, nothing whatsoever covered my breast. I smile temptingly.

As he rose from his seat and walked over to me, I turned slightly in my chair to greet him, and with a little tug, helped the hem of my skirt steal to the very top of my thigh. It didn’t have far to go!

As he neared me, I recrossed my legs enough to let the skirt ride half way up my hip and briefly expose the nothing I had on beneath. I smiled enticingly. I was being terribly bad, I know, but I was also in such a sexy mood. Blame the dress, what little there was of it.

Instead of asking me to dance, however, he sat down beside me.

“You are the most compellingly attractive woman I’ve ever seen,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad I came here tonight.”

“Well, thank you,” I said, demurely but not excessively so. The hem of my dress was at the very edge of my vagina now. I subtly inched the dress up just slightly beyond the edge, almost unable to breathe now. “I’m Chloe,” I said with bated breath.

“I’m Brad. Who’s the guy with you?”

‘Oh, that’s just a guy I know,” I lied.

“Is he going to be upset I took his seat?”

“Maybe a little,” I smiled, watching his eyes bathe my body. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I’d be devastated,” he laughed.

“You from around her?” I asked, moving enough to let the dress slip just that fraction of an inch needed to demonstrate clearly what lay at the very top of my thighs.

He put his hand on my knee and I smiled at him and sat back in my chair. My left breast was totally exposed. I waited a bit before I bothered to “notice” it and fix myself. His hand moved to mid thigh.

“No, I’m from out of town. Here on business,” he answered. “Hot little club,” he added glancing around the room, “but there’s nothing hotter than you tonight.”

I took a large sip of the martini. “Thanks for the drink,” I said. “It’s very strong, but I like it.”

“It impressed me when the bartender told me you were drinking straight up martinis. Not really a girl drink,” he went on. “I had him make you a double.”

“It’s just right for my mood tonight,” I laughed, opening my legs enough to invite his hand further up my thigh.

The back of his hand was brushing against my slightly exposed labia when we both noticed Joey slowly coming back to the bar. If he came up and spoiled this, I would just die. I shook my head quickly at him.

“Well, why don’t you dance with me before he gets back?” I said, nodding at what we were both watching. “Then he can have his set back and you can have me,” I said sexily, pushing my vagina hard into his hand.

“Love to,” he said, not moving his hand. “Finish up the drink.”

I gulped the drink down, nearly choking in the process, and managed to purposely drag the bottom of my dress nearly to my waist as I arose from my seat. Standing I struggled to pull the dress back down, entirely exposing my very wet, silky smooth vagina while untangling myself from the chair. It was quite a show! And I’m certain Brad knew it was deliberate!

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Joey watch me as I flounced to the dance floor.

The dance floor was crammed, which kept me from being the frenzied slut I felt inside, but not so crowded that I couldn’t continue to show Brad all there was to see. When the tempo slowed, I shamelessly collapsed into his arms. The double martini had put Joey far from my thoughts. I knew I was getting myself in trouble, but I just didn’t want to stop.

There was an absolute crush on the dance floor, which I hoped was shielding my behavior from Joey. As I pushed myself into Brad’s body as the music slowed, Brad effortlessly moved his hands from my shoulders to my bare breasts, and as he began lightly to pinch my stiffening nipples, I knew I was in trouble, trouble I was going to have a hard time getting out of. I didn’t really care. Not at that moment.

“You have an unbelievably sexy body,” he said, staring into my eyes, “and a face to match. It would be a real pleasure to take you home.”

I had opened for him entirely, let him assume I was his for the taking. I hadn’t made one move to stop his enjoyment of my body. And I was in deep, deep trouble.

I realized the only way out of this dilemma was some semblance of truth. I told him that the “guy I knew” was actually my husband and that he insisted on taking me out to show me off and that he encouraged this kind of behavior. Brad asked me if I didn’t think that was cruel teasing, and I admitted it was, apologizing and telling him that if I had my way, I would deliver what I promised.

He just left it at that and took me back to the bar where Joey was waiting, but whispered in my ear as he was leaving, “you’re a little cock tease.” That hurt. I was so terribly frustrated and so embarrassed that I told Joey I wanted to leave. I stole a look over at Brad as we left and the look he returned told me how pathetic he must think the two of us. And he was right!

In the car, I recovered myself somewhat and told Joey a made up story about what happened, something about the guy wanting me and me telling him how hot my husband was. Something like that. Anyway, it worked and we had a good night in bed, though the man who was fucking me in my fantasy was not Joey!

Five-Year High School Reunion

Joey’s five-year high school reunion was coming later the next month, and though he had initially not planned on attending, he was suddenly quite eager to go. I had a feeling I knew why. He wanted to be noticed for his “arm candy,” a phrase he’d used a couple of times in the last few weeks. I was okay with it. I liked a lot of the people in his class, and in truth didn’t at all mind having a few of the people who snubbed Joey see what his old girlfriend looks like now. Vain, I know, but I think understandable, too, if you’ve ever been to high school. I thought this could be a very fun night for both of us.

When I told Joey I wanted to find a really special dress for the reunion, he surprised me by insisting on coming along. And it pleased me, too. I liked the idea of the two of us sort of planning our “revenge.” Silly, I know, but kind of fun, too. We visited half a dozen stores before we found just the kind of dress that I had in mind and that I knew would fit Joey’s new image of me.

I liked the dress the moment I saw it hanging on the rack. I was a simple white knit long-sleeve dress with a scoop neck that buttoned all the way down the front. The kind of dress that is demure (a modest top) but sexy (mid thigh length). It was just exactly what I had in mind. Joey was not at all impressed at first, but I wanted to at least try it on. In the dressing room, I was pretty sure Joey would change his mind when he saw it.

The knit material was delightfully sheer and clingy and hugged my body flawlessly. Because I’m a teeny bit top-heavy, the dress was even tighter across my bosom than my hips, and tugged precariously at the buttons. Unbuttoning the top two loosened the dress perfectly and allowed just enough boob to spill out to make the whole ensemble charmingly tantalizing without being vulgar.

As I guessed, Joey was more than pleased. That night in bed, he couldn’t stop talking about how hot I looked in our new reunion dress and what a spectacular sight I’d make. Early in the night, he wanted me to promise I’d flirt, but by the time he’d “warmed up,” he wanted me to go a bit further. The point was to make all the guys who’d snubbed him be jealous of him now. I agreed to everything he said, knowing I wouldn’t actually follow through. It seemed harmless fun at the moment.

I spent virtually all of the day of the reunion doing girl stuff—getting my hair and nails done and shoe shopping. By the time I got home, Joey had already had a drink or two and had one waiting for me. He was very excited and his excitement was infectious.

Dressing was exhilarating. I had bought a pretty lace push-up bra and matching panties. I was going to wear white pantyhose, but decided last minute on white thigh highs with an elegant lace top band instead.

When I came out to present myself to Joey, he was even more excited than I expected. He looked me over carefully, turning me around slowly. And then he said with a distinct quaver in his voice, “You’d look better without the panties. You can kinda see the panty line.”

“You want me to take them off,” I said. “Won’t it be obvious that I don’t have anything on?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why don’t you just try it and see? Maybe try it without anything, like maybe no bra either?”

I looked at him strangely. He was obviously very keyed up and maybe a little tipsy, but somehow the danger of the suggestion excited me, too. I’d try it.

In the bedroom looking at myself in the mirror sans bra and panties, I knew Joey was both right and wrong. The dress was much sleeker, more form fitting, and infinitely more alluring with nothing underneath. But he was wrong about it not being obvious that there was nothing beneath the dress but flesh. It was very obvious!

The more I looked and posed, the more I wanted to wear it exactly this way nonetheless. I have never looked so captivating or felt so tempting. Or been so brazen! This is the way I was going to Joey’s reunion. I just hoped he’d agree.

The second I stepped out of the bedroom, I knew this look might be too much, and I think if Joey had been completely sober, he might have objected. But a couple of vodka tonics had made him more courageous than he might have been otherwise, and though he hesitated a bit, he said that I looked really hot and sexy. I noticed his hands were shaking when he said it, however. I sensed he might be a little apprehensive about this in-your-face sexuality, but by that time, I was so into this new me, that I chose to ignore it.

As we checked in at the reunion desk, I clearly heard a guy behind us say, “Is that Chloe Wills? Man, what a change! She is smokin’ hot!” I hoped Joey had heard it, too. My confidence soared, as you might imagine.

As we walked to the open bar, I got so many openly admiring stares and not a few murmured guy-type compliments (“Jesus, what a babe,” “Goddamn, that bitch is hot,” that sort of thing). We were going to find a table, but decided instead just to hang around the bar for a while. After another vodka, Joey whispered shakily for me to unbutton one more button. That one more button was going to put a lot of bosom on display, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Joey couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest. I liked that.

Moments later, Derrick Carter walked up to the bar. Derrick is a guy I had a major crush on in high school. Joey hated him, for good reason. Derrick was big, a three sport letterman, stupid and a bully. But oh my god was he handsome! He still made my heart quiver.

In an English class in Joey’s senior year, Derrick had given a totally stupid answer to some question, and Joey had corrected him. Right after class, Derrick had grabbed him, and right in front of everyone, including the teacher, had “bitch slapped him.” Then to make his humiliation complete, he had his girlfriend, Teri Bales, slap him, too, which made everyone, including the teacher, Miss Martin, laugh! Though Joey doesn’t know this, I was walking down the hall at the time and saw it too. I felt so sorry for Joey. It was just so totally degrading and demeaning, but to my shame, I also felt this intense desire for Derrick right then. To do something like that right in front of the teacher was pretty gutsy. He didn’t seem at all bothered by authority, and at that time, I found that really appealing.

“Hey, Joey,” Derrick smirked, walking brashly up to the bar and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Your date looks great,” he added, openly looking up and down my body. “Didn’t you go to Central High, too?” he asked, turning to me.

“Yes, I did. I was three years behind you guys. I’m Chloe, Joey’s wife.”

“His wife, huh? You got yourself a hottie, Joey. Funny I never noticed her at school. Good seeing you again,” he said, looking at me and not Joey.

“Asshole,” Joey said under his breath. I could see he was visibly relieved when Derrick left. We could both see him checking us out from his table just across the room.

“You blew him away, babe,” Joey said. “He couldn’t believe I’ve got such a hot babe. Look at that thing he’s with.”

Derrick was with his girlfriend, Teri, who had put on a little weight since high school. She was still very attractive, but she’d been sensational in school, and now was moving pretty quickly toward fat. Conceited of me to say, I know, but she was certainly no longer any competition. I saw Derrick stealing long glances at me. I liked it! A lot!

A few couples had started to dance, and more were moving toward the dance floor, when Joey turned to me and said, “If Derrick asks you to dance, do it, okay. I want him to see how much hotter you are than that bimbo he’s with.”

It all abruptly came clear. Teri was the girl every guy in school was so hot for when we were in school and the girl who had completely humiliated Joey in the hall that day when Derrick held him while she slapped him to the amusement of everyone watching. He desperately wanted to show Derrick up. And maybe Teri, too.

“You sure?” I asked. I was more than willing, but didn’t want to show it.

“Yeah, do it. Like turn him on and then just like walk away from him!” he said, his speech slurring slightly.

Very weird on Joey’s part, I knew, but I really wouldn’t mind dancing with Derrick, though it didn’t seem likely to happen, not with his girlfriend right there.

“Do you want me to try and make that happen, like get Derrick to dance with me?” I asked.

Joey hesitated long enough to let me know he wasn’t too sure about that, but instead said, “Sure, why not, the asshole.” Having seen the way he ogled me, I had a pretty good idea that I could help it along.

So a few minutes later, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Walking by Derrick’s table, I looked him directly in the eye, and very slowly and deliberately but coyly, licked my upper lip, and then bent over to check my shoe, showing Derrick the treats available if he asked. That’s all, but I had no doubt he got the message. Whether he would act on it was another matter.

Back at the bar with Joey, I kept looking over at Derrick, making him aware that I knew he was there and that I was “interested.” I also tried my best to make the boob that Joey had wanted displayed as enticing to Derrick as possible. A few twists in the chair helped clearly send the message I wanted.

A few moments later, I saw his girlfriend along with two other girls at the table get up to go to the bathroom. They weren’t gone a minute before Derrick walked over and said to Joey, “Mind if I dance with your wife?”

Joey just shrugged his shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, but visibly nervous…to me at least. Derrick seemed oblivious, and simply ignored Joey. “Care to?” he asked extending his hand.

“Sure, why not,” I said, smiling and letting my dress creep high up my thigh as I slid off of the bar stool. Derrick just brazenly put his arm around my shoulder as he led me to the dance floor

I’m a good dancer and the disc the DJ was playing was really good dance music. I did exactly what Joey wanted. I showed Derrick everything he’d ignored in high school! I danced with what I guess you could call controlled frenzy, enough so that at times, I thought I might spill entirely out of the top of my dress. Derrick’s eyes rarely left my chest.

And then trouble came.

After a series of really hot dance tunes, the DJ shifted tempo to a slow and erotic Byonce hit, and as I turned to go back to the bar, thinking Joey would not want me dancing a slow number with Derrick, he quickly grabbed me and pulled me right up next to him. He wasn’t letting me go, and I confess I wasn’t at all unhappy with that.

One slow tune turned into another. I worried about what Joey would think, but when I felt Derrick growing tense and excited as he pushed himself harder against me, I couldn’t stop myself from responding. When his hand slip inside my dress and cupped my breast, I surprised myself by just melting into him. A second later he was caressing my throbbing breast and stiffening nipple. Though I was suddenly terrified of the consequences, I didn’t resist at all.

As the dance ended and we parted, I realized in alarm, that Derrick had managed to unfasten the entire top of my dress.

“What have you done,” I asked, stupidly, giggling and quickly buttoning back up. “You’ve almost totally undressed me!”

“If we’d had one more dance, I would have opened it totally,” he grinned. “Maybe next time. You have terrific tits, by the way.”

I just smiled at him, said “thanks, I hope there is a next time,” and walked back to Joey, glancing at Derrick over my shoulder and winking at him once.

Back with Joey, I made up some terrible lies tailored to make him feel that he got his “revenge” and that Derrick was now extremely jealous of him. Joey was dunk enough to buy it all. In fact, he was immensely pleased with me and told me so. As I was puffing up Joey, I noticed that Derrick and Teri seemed in the middle of a spat of some sort, and maybe a half hour later I noticed that she had left and didn’t seem to be coming back.

It was getting late in the evening now. Joey was drunk but still reasonably aware, and I was preening like mad for him. I’d unbuttoned another button, showing enough cleavage now to make me the decidedly fine arm candy he coveted, and draping myself all over him to reinforce his sense of ego. But all the while I was stealing glances at Derrick and he at me. A half dozen of Joey’s old “friends” dropped by to check us out. I danced with a few of them and flirted with all of them. Joey was on top of the world.

Around 1:00 a.m., the DJ announced last dance, and I saw Derrick get up and start walking over toward us. I was frozen in anticipation, frantic at the thought of what Joey would say if he’d ask me to dance and distraught at the thought that Joey might refuse.

“Joey,” I said. “Derrick’s walking this way. I know he’s going to ask me to last dance. What should I do?”

“Tell the jerk, no,” he said petulantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to make him super jealous this time?” I cooed. “I think his girlfriend got all upset he danced with me last time and just left. Isn’t that cool? I could really seal the deal this time, just make him so, so envious,” I added, rubbing myself up against him.

He hesitated a second, but said shakily, “Jesus Christ! Okay, do it! Really make him jealous this time!”

“Okay, Joey, but are you sure?” I asked, afraid he might change his mind. “I’ll make him really jealous for us, okay?! And you’re sure, right?”

“Yeah, sure, do it!”

“Hey, you mind if I borrow your wife one more time?” Derrick asked coolly as he leaned against the bar. I could see he was more than a bit drunk.

Joey just nodded his head as if to say go ahead, not looking directly at him, and Derrick escorted me to the dance floor.

Joey had likely forgotten, but I hadn’t, how long these last slow dances went on. I was tipsy and thrilled in Derrick’s arms, and it became increasingly obvious that Derrick was more than tipsy and way more than thrilled to have me there. We staggered more than danced.

“Did Teri go somewhere?” I asked innocently.

“Yeah. She went home pissed off!” he slurred.

“Oh, really? What was the matter?”

“You were the matter,” he said, pulling me tighter against him. “I kept telling her how hot you were and what a great body you had. She got pissed off.”

“Oh, God, Derrick. That was not a very nice thing to say to your girlfriend!”

“You upset that I did?” I felt his hand snake under my dress to once again enfold my breast.

“No, not really, I guess,” I said seductively. “Maybe I like it. Did you know I had just the most outrageous crush on you in school?” I whispered in his ear and pushing my body hard against his.

I had no idea why I said such a thing. It was totally improper, and a stupid invitation to trouble. I can only say that the alcohol and the mood and Derrick’s hand again on my bare breast provoked inappropriate emotions.

“Wish I’d known. If you had the body you have now, I would have known!”

“I did have. Maybe even better. I just kept it covered is all.”

“Your husband is a fucking fool to let you out of his sight, you know. You’re way too hot for that wimp.”

“Don’t be mean,” I said.

“Did he ever tell you about the time I bitch slapped him in the hall?” he smirked.

“No, but I saw it. You made Teri slap him, too. Everybody thought that was so funny. I guess it was. But it was like so, so mean, too,” I giggled. “He looked so terrified when little Teri was slapping him over and over that you just couldn’t help laughing. I should never ever admit this, but I was laughing too. It was just so ludicrous to see this little girl slapping this guy while he cried. Even Mrs. Martin was laughing!”

“Yeah, I saw that. Your little bitch boyfriend was crying, and every time Teri slapped him all the guys would go ‘boo hoo!’ It was very fucking funny. Mrs. Martin was cracking up. I fucked her, you know,” he added casually.

“Yeah, I guess everybody heard about you doing her. You got her pregnant, too, right?. That’s what everybody said anyway.”

“Yeah, I did. Her husband knew I was fucking her but still thinks the kid is his.”

“Well you are a dangerous guy, Derrick,” I laughed. “And I know you’re going to be very dangerous for me, aren’t you. You know why Joey wants me to dance with you?” I added.

“No, why? He must be fucking crazy is all I can think.”

“He wants me to make you jealous that he has a hot wife. He thinks that’s how he can get back at you and Teri for what you guys did to him. I guess it worked on Teri!” I smirked, grinding my body against Derrick’s. “She must be really upset,” I said as invitingly as I could. I could feel Derrick’s cock hardening against my thigh.

I know I shouldn’t have told Derrick any of that. It was such a betrayal of Joey and made him seem just utterly pathetic, but I was just totally into Derrick at that moment and wanted to make him know it.

“What a dumb fuck. You’re right it was fucking hilarious when I bitch slapped your little pussy husband and maybe I should do it again tonight,” he snorted. “What do think?”

“Well, if you really wanted to, I guess it would excite me. You know I wouldn’t do anything to stop you, that’s for sure, but don’t you think holding his wife’s bare tit in your hand is worse than a bitch slapping?” I moaned into his ear. “Or undressing her right here on the dance floor?” I added, taking his hand from my breast and putting it on the next button of my dress. “Isn’t that what you said you were going to do? That’s so much better than just bitch slapping him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, maybe it is, and I did say I intended to undress you right out here on the dance floor.”

“Yes, you did,” I moaned into his ear.

A moment later, I felt my dress come apart and Derrick’s hands cupping my bare ass. “I’m going to fuck you, too,” he said.

“Yes, I know you are. And soon, too. Oh, God, Derrick,” I whispered in his ear. “You have no idea how I used to dream about something like this.” I could feel his hardness pushing against my naked belly now. I reached down to touch it. It was impressively large. “I want you inside me!” I whispered in his ear.

I could hold the dress together somewhat with the inside of my arms so that I didn’t appear publically nude, but I was bare naked to Derrick. And I could see that a few of the couples around us were aware of that. I didn’t care. I could feel the heat of his body on my exposed skin.

“I need to fuck you tonight,” he gasped, reaching down to stroke the silky smooth softness of my exposed and willing sex.

I pulled his head down to my anxious lips and kiss him, moaning as I flicked my tongue in and out of his mouth, “Yes, I want you, too,” I sighed heavily. “I want you to fuck me, Derrick. Desperately!”

“Lose the wimp! Let me fuck you tonight!” he demanded, moving his hand to cup my velvety vagina. I wanted frantically to obey.

“Oh, Derrick, I can’t,” I gasped as his finger slipped deftly inside me. “I’m with my husband. You know that. How can I?”

“Lose the wimp!” he repeated even more insistently, his entire finger inside me now.

“Derrick, I can’t. You know that. But we will. Soon. I promise.”

“Do you want me?” Two of his fingers were deep inside me now, caressing my quivering clit.

“Oh God, yes, Derrick, I do. Really do. Can’t you tell?”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

My answer was to kiss him hard while I mumbled into his mouth, “Yes, I want you to fuck me, Derrick. You know I do!”

“Call me,” he said.

“I don’t have your number,” I whispered.

“Do you have something to write on?” he asked, taking a pen from his jacket pocket.

I shook my head no.

And then he did the most outrageous, sexiest thing I’ve ever heard of. He took my breast in his hand and wrote his number on it! There was no doubt at all now that the couples around us were aware of what Derrick had done. I stood there totally exposed as Derrick wrote his cell number on my breast while I swayed in front of him.

The dance was coming to an end, and I had to now contend with the fact that my dress was completely open and people were openly gawking.

“Hold me while I try to get buttoned up again,” I laughed nervously.

“Why not just let me walk you out of here naked?” he grinned. “You’d knock ‘em dead!. Then I’ll fuck you!”

“Oh God, Derrick, I wish you could. I really want you. I promise next time you will,” I answered breathlessly, hastily buttoning up again, this time clear to the top. Derrick’s number on my tit isn’t something I wanted anyone to see.

Joey was a teeny bit peeved when I got back, but a little too drunk for it to last. Rubbing up against him lasciviously and telling ego inflating stories did the trick. We were soon again acting the hot shot and his arm candy.

At home, after rubbing Derrick’s number off of my tit and into my address book, I gave myself totally to Joey, while in my fantasy I gave myself to Derrick. But it would be a fantasy, I promised myself. Though there was no question of my desire, I hoped fervently that he wouldn’t call. I couldn’t fall that low.

Work Days

In the weeks prior to all of this, work had been hectic. The firm was preparing to make a bond offering for a water works company and there was considerable anxiety and consternation about it that I frankly did not totally understand. What I did understand was that I was expected to stay late and join in the frantic pace of the coming weeks.

I really didn’t mind. There was something fun and exciting about the chaos and the strong camaraderie that ensued. Having never been through one of these events, I was attracted to the strong bonding that grew stronger as the issue date approached.

All this frenetic energy all around me happened to coalesce with what was happening to me at home. Joey’s obsessive interest in exhibiting me, his growing attention to my clothes, and new found insistence on my public sexuality, had come to produce profound (and welcomed) changes in me and how I felt about myself.

I was so much more confident about my overall appearance, but especially about my body. It was such a strange transition. I had become a chrysalis, exchanging my old drab, figure-obscuring wardrobe for the clothes Joey approved of now. And I felt a corresponding change deep inside of me. A new and much more confident woman was emerging, one who could admit to the growing sexual nature inside her that Joey had, intentionally or not, released. And sadly, a sexual tension Joey was less and less able to satisfy wholly.

So maybe a more shameless woman was emerging, too. In the past few weeks, two different men had not only seen my naked breasts, but fondled them. One man had undressed me in public and written his cell number on my breast! Worse, I had no regrets, none at all. Quite the reverse, in fact. I liked being looked at. I liked being the object of men’s fantasies. I could never go back to the old me.

The clothes I chose to wear to work more and more began purposely to evidenced the body beneath. I wore thin lacy bras when I wore one at all, and thongs or more often, nothing at all under my short tight skirts and dresses. I grew to love the feeling of being utterly naked beneath my clothes, and the less I wore underneath, the more guys stared, and the more guys stared the more I liked it. So like in classical psychological conditioning, I tended more and more to wear less and less. In short order, I not only became comfortable with but actually came to crave guys staring at me. I especially liked it when my two bosses noticed and complimented me on my “fashion sense!”

The week after Joey’s reunion was the week the bond issue was due, and to put it simply, it was utter chaos and frenzy. And it was terribly exciting. Everyone was working to near exhaustion, especially my two bosses, Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, and me. We’d work well past 6:00, go for a quick dinner, come back and work until 10:00 or 11:00 many nights, and then just collapse in the conference room amid the mess of brochures and prospectives. Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton would then pour themselves brandy and we’d all just relax and compliment ourselves on how hard we work. The first time they offered me a glass, I refused, but at their insistence I later accepted. In the days following it became a sort of ritual, and one I looked forward to.

The day of the bond sale was the most hectic of my life, and it was sometime near midnight when all the work was finished. I was truly grateful when the day ended and the three of us gathered in the conference room to celebrate. We were drinking and laughing and enjoying the success of the weeks of hard work, and I was in an ebullient mood, made even better by Mr. Compton’s telling me how proud they were of my dedication and work ethic and that there would be a significant bonus for me as a result.

I was totally relaxed and extremely happy. The brandy had never tasted so rich and smooth. I felt wonderfully close to Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton right then, and I could sense they felt the same way. We finally could relax openly and celebrate the success of the bond sale.

I was growing just a teeny bit inebriated when Mr. Damon asked me if I’d ever tried cocaine.

“No, ” I said. “Never.”

“Care to? Matt and I are going to do a little. It’s sort of an energy boost. And God knows we could all use that right now!”

“I don’t know,” I said apprehensively. Isn’t it illegal?”

They both just laughed. “Come on, Chloe, give it a try with us. We’re all partners here.”

I didn’t know how I could actually refuse being a “partner,” so I said, okay, I’d try it.

Mr. Damon laid out three lines and showed me how to snuff it up my nose without sneezing. It burned at first, and I couldn’t really see any great effect, so they had me do it two more times. About ten minutes later I just felt this burst of energy and this general sense of euphoria. I was happy with them, with myself, with the world!

“Like to dance, Chloe?” Mr. Damon said casually.

“I do,” I said, “and I’m quite good at it too,” I added immodestly.

“I’ll bet you are. Why don’t you show us a few of your dance moves. I’d find it relaxing to watch a pretty girl dancing right now. How about you, Matt?”

“It would be just what the doctor ordered,” Mr. Compton replied.

I knew this invitation was not exactly proper, but the brandy and the cocaine had affected me enough to make the idea exciting, nonetheless. The office has “soft jazz” piped into the conference room, and though that’s certainly not dancing music, at the moment I thought it would do just fine, and I stood up and began to sway slowly, trying to get into the beat of the music. I desperately wanted to please my bosses and see them relax. They deserved it! I was soaring.

I could see myself in the large mirror behind the conference table, and from my vantage point, I looked extremely seductive. The way my body seemed to move almost without any conscious decision on my part seemed intensely erotic. Mr. Damon walked over to me and offered me some more cocaine from a tiny silver spoon. The effect this time was instantaneous.

I felt this great surge of erotic energy and an intense emotional attachment to our “team.” Dancing to please these men seemed the most natural thing in the world. I could hear both Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton praising my body as I swayed enticingly before them. I was in another world.

In the mirror, I saw Mr. Damon coming up behind me and watched him take the bottom of my sweater and slowly begin to pull it up. I raised my arms to accommodate him, and there I was, dancing in my sheer lace bra with my sweater in Mr. Damon’s hands. It was like being at home, doing an innocent little striptease for my husband. It seemed the perfect and natural thing to do. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized how much better I looked out of my sweater, how much more erotic and tantalizing my dancing seemed. I thought I would look even better out of my skirt.

Mr. Damon brought me more cocaine, telling me how incredibly beautiful I looked and how magnificent my body was and how pleased they both were that I would dance for them. The cocaine made everything around me glow with an inner beauty.

In a sort of haze, I saw Mr. Damon pull the down the straps on my bra, and again, I thought nothing of it. Again, it seemed perfect. The swell of my breasts moved much more alluringly and my body seemed to respond to this enticement. And then he reached behind my back and unsnapped my bra, dropping it to the floor at my feet.

Now, I was suddenly nervous. I covered my breasts with my hands, but Mr. Damon pulled them down again.

“Keep dancing, Chloe,” Mr. Compton intoned from afar. “You look stunningly beautiful.”

In the mirror, the half naked girl agreed and continued to dance. My sense of innocent euphoria returned.

“Take your skirt off, Chloe,” Mr. Compton said in a husky voice.

It never occurred o me not to. I slid the zipper down and seductively danced out of my tight little skirt. The body of the woman in the mirror continued to sway seductively.

Suddenly, Mr. Damon just picked me up, carried me to the conference table, and in one quick tug, broke my thong from my body.

As if in slow motion, I saw him lower his pants, pull my legs up to his shoulders and prepare to enter me.

I quickly threw my hands down to cover myself.

“No, please, Mr. Damon. Don’t do that,” I begged. “I’m not that kind of girl,” I pleaded lamely. “I’ve never been with anyone but my husband.” Even in the haze of cocaine, I knew that things had now gone too far, and that I probably would not escape this. I hoped I wanted to.

Mr. Compton calmly pulled my hands away from my vagina, and I felt the head of Mr. Damon’s sex begin slowly to part my labia.

“No, Mr. Damon. Please, please. Please don’t do this,” I sobbed, now nearing panic. I did not want to be raped but I knew I was about to be.

Neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Compton said a single word. Mr. Compton held my hands above my head, and Mr. Damon continued to push himself deeper into my vagina. And deeper and deeper and deeper. I thought he would never insert himself fully. And then he pulled out, and the next long, deep stroke began.

“This is exceptionally good pussy, Matt. Tight and smooth,” Mr. Damon said, breaking the strange silence that accompanied my rape.

“Don’t make a mess in it,” Mr. Compton observed. “I’ll want some of it, too. Finish up in her mouth. Let me turn her so her head drops over the edge of the table and I can get her mouth ready for us,” he continued.

Mr. Damon never withdrew or really even changed his rhythmic assault of my body as Mr. Compton rotated me sidewise on the table. I felt my head drop off the edge of the table and was instantly aware that Mr. Compton was preparing to enter my mouth. I had never done that before. But then I had never been raped before, either!

“Open your mouth, Chloe.”

I had stopped sobbing, but Mr. Compton’s abrupt command started me all over again. But I did open my mouth, and Mr. Compton took immediate advantage, pushing his cock fully into my mouth. And suddenly, my head was ringing and there were stars before my eyes. Mr. Compton had viciously slapped me twice across the face. “Jesus Christ, Chloe, haven’t you ever sucked cock before?” Mr. Compton snapped.

“No,” I sobbed tearfully. “Never.”

“Well, for God’s sake woman, keep your teeth off of a man’s cock! Suck it like a lollipop. Now open up again and for Christ’s sake be careful.”

I dutifully opened and accepted his erection again, this time being careful to do as he instructed.

He seemed satisfied this time, and began to rhythmically push himself deeper into my mouth. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, and Mr. Compton and Mr. Damon both laughed.

“A newbie,” Mr. Compton noted in amusement.

Ironically, the slap had actually calmed me down and concentrated my focus. I was now intensely aware of the tempo of Mr. Damon’s cock as he stroked himself deeper and deeper inside me and the tactile sense of Mr. Compton’s slippery sex pulsing in and out of my wet mouth. And more and more I was conscious of a growing warmth spreading from my vagina up through my belly and figuratively engulfing me in ecstasy.

I was on the verge of climax, but I knew this would be like nothing else I had ever experienced. I had climaxed with Joey, or thought I had, but this would be different. Very different! Mr. Compton had pulled out of my mouth, and all of my attention was now focused on Mr. Damon’s sleek cock pulsing rhythmically in and out of me. I felt myself sliding into a deep abyss of sexual pleasure, when with a deep groan, he suddenly pulled out of me.

I was in a panic. I was on the verge of the most electrifying sensation of my life and the cock that was producing it was abandoning me. I was about to beg him, to plead, to pray for him to inset himself again, when simultaneously I felt Mr. Compton’s sex slip inside me and Mr. Damon’s cock pushing deep into my mouth. Almost at once, a warm gush of semen hit the back of my throat and Mr. Damon’s cock began to convulse violently in my mouth.

I had no idea what to do with the seeming gallons of Mr. Damon’s cum filling my mouth, until Mr. Damon told me exactly what to do.

“Swallow, bitch!” he said, stroking the last of his cum onto my lips.

I nearly gagged, but managed to swallow it all in two gulps, and then turned my attention to the astonishing sensation reemerging from my clitoris.

Mr. Compton’s strokes were quicker and harder than Mr. Damon’s, and if they were designed to drive me into utter sexual abandon, they worked to perfection. The sensation that Mr. Damon had launched was now soaring into unexplored realms of sexual enchantment. Every nerve was attuned to his stroke, the very fiber of my being was concentrated solely on Mr. Compton’s beautiful cock penetrating my open body. I could sense something happening that had never happened before.

A moment later it exploded! I began to moan and whimper like some whore in heat and that growing sensation inside me now completely overwhelmed me. I had no choice but to given in to it wholly and entirely.

“Oh God, Mr. Compton!” I shrieked. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” And then I fell over the edge into utter and total abandon. Through lust glazed eyes I saw Mr. Damon’s face contort and his cock begin to shudder, and I through a veil of lust and desire heard myself sobbing in reckless and wanton wildness, “Fuck me, Mr. Compton! Oh God, please, Mr. Compton fuck me hard!”

His cock exploded inside me, and my writhing cunt rose up to meet every gush of his incomparable semen as it burst inside me. His piercing stroke now was so powerful and so penetrating that I thought he might rupture my insides. And if that had been his intent, I would have urged him on!

And then that last, beautiful, vicious thrust up hard against my cervix sent me into the most exhilarating climax I could ever imagine. My mind went blank, my body shuddered in paroxysms of pleasure, and I felt myself enfolded in a blanket of carnal obsession. I had never experienced anything remotely like this…and I knew I would need to again.

At home that night in bed, I thought deeply about what had happened to me. I had been raped. There was no doubt about that. I had pleaded with both of them to stop. But they hadn’t. They were different from Joey. They were the kind of men who simply took what they wanted. And the thought that stuck with me the most was that what they took was only what they deserved to take. They were a different breed of man from Joey. They were more successful and more dominant and commanded a kind of respect from the world that Joey would never know.

It came to me in an abrupt and brilliant blaze of illumination that in taking me the way they had, they had succeeded in taking me from Joey entirely. In a flash of insight I realized that, though I was married to Joey, I now belonged exclusively to them…and to men like them. And though I honestly do love Joey, I knew that he could never possess me as Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton had. They had simply taken me, and I had become their property. I was finally what I was meant to be.


On the Monday after my incredible evening with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, Joey told me that he would have to be out of town on Tuesday to attend some sort of dealership training or something. I knew immediately that I had lied to myself earlier and that I was in fact going to call Derrick. The realization surprised me, believe it or not. I really had convinced myself that I would never do such a traitorous thing to Joey. Yet later that night, under the pretence of going to the drug story for “women’s stuff,” I called Derrick on my cell and arranged to meet him at an up-scale bar downtown the next night, a place where no one who knows me or Joey is likely to be. It’s mostly lawyers and businessmen.

All day at work I obsessed about what to wear and tried to sublimate my guilt over what I was doing. I rationalized it by acknowledging that some men were simply superior to others and by their very nature deserved to have whatever they could take. Men like Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton. Could anyone really deny that they were higher sorts than most other men? I don’t know that I can really explain it. It gets all confused in my head. But isn’t it sort of like survival of the fittest? They took me because they could, because they were the strongest, and Joey, if he would really think about it, would know that he is not in the same league as these men, and would know way down deep inside, that what they did was their right. And Derrick was that kind of man, too.

I decided it would be best not to draw too much attention to myself, so I decided to wear a white flared skirt that was sexy only because it is short and a white cashmere vee-neck that I decided looked more alluring without a bra than with. Actually, I went back and forth on that, thinking that I might draw too much attention to myself sans bra, but on the other hand, wanting to be at least a little tantalizing for Derrick. Tantalizing won out. White ankle strap pumps and particularly sheer thigh highs completed the look I wanted.

We’d agreed to meet at 8:00, but I wanted to be a little late so as not to look too terribly eager, though I was. I got there by taxi about 8:20 and found Derrick at the bar talking with another guy, who turned out to be some sports announcer on local television named Stan something or other. Derrick introduced me as his “date,” which I liked, and after some inane sort of sports blah blah, Derrick took me to a table near the back, where we were finally alone.

“You look hot, babe,” Derrick grinned. “You see the way Stan was checking you out?”

I actually had noticed, but pretended not to.

“I’m really a little nervous about being here,” I said. “But I’m glad I came.”

“Just relax, Baby. Let’s have a couple of drinks and reminisce.”

“Reminisce?” I said. “Derrick, we hardly ran in the same circles at school. You were way popular, and no one knew my name. But I do know stories about you,” I giggled. “I was terribly interested in all the things I heard about you.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“You really want to know? They don’t speak highly of your moral character,” I said grinning at him.

“Sure, what did people say? I’ll tell you if they’re true.”

“Well, there’s one story that you picked a new freshman chick to fuck every month. Is that true?” I asked coyly.

“Yep, and when I finished with her, I’d pass her on to my posse.”

“Jesus, you are soooo bad! I also heard that maybe not all of the girls consented?”

“You mean said, no? Some did, but I kind of ignore that. Easier that way.”

There was a time I would have been upset about such a remark, but after my experience with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, I understood completely. Like them, Derrick was a different breed. Like them, he could and should ignore “no”!

“You are just awful, Derrick. But I guess it’s true that good girls do like bad boys,” I said, smiling coyly into his eyes. “I also heard that you never use a condom and that you got at least six girls pregnant in high school, not counting Mrs. Martin.”


“You have eight kids!” I exclaimed.

“I got one. The others got taken care of.”


“Yeah. The other bitch was this little freshman cunt who thought abortion was a sin or some shit like that.”

“Did you get Mrs. Martin pregnant on purpose? I heard that you did.”

“Long, weird story. First off her little pussy professor husband walked in on us one afternoon when I was fucking her, like just as I was ready to unload in her, and says something stupid like ‘what’s going on here?’ So I calmly get out of the bed, walk over to him, and punch the punk hard in the face. He just drops like a sack. I tell him, ‘Listen, punk, don’t ever disturb me when I’m about to blow my wad in your bitch’s cunt, got that?’ Then I kick him in the gut and walk out.

“Jeeze, Derrick. Weren’t you at all scared he’d do something?”

He just laughed. “Nah, he was a wimp, just like your husband. He ‘forgave’ her and I just kept on fucking her whenever I felt the urge. I used to make her come to school without panties and make her show a couple of buddies.”

“And she did it?” I asked in amazement.

“Sure, just like you will. Anyway, about her getting knocked up. Her punk husband had some shit like low sperm count or something, so she was always taking her temperature and some other weird stuff and then scheduling sex with him. I never followed what was going on until some other cunt I was fucking put me wise. Like soon as I snapped to what was going on, I told her the second she was ready to call me. So she does, I pop a kid in her belly first time, her husband thinks it’s his, everybody’s happy.”

“Does it feel weird to know the kid is yours?

“Nah, means nothing to me.”

“How about the one who wouldn’t get an abortion? Do you see that kid?”

“No. Hey, let’s talk about something else, okay.”

“Sure. Like what?”

“Like how I’m going to fuck you tonight!”

“How? Well, I guess you’re going to fuck me anyway you want, right?” I said, breathlessly and brazenly.

“Let’s finish these drinks and go out to my place. I want to check out that hot bod again.”

In the car, Derrick told me a little bit about his life since high school. He’d gotten a football scholarship to the state university and made All American in his junior year there, but in his senior year, he tore his knee apart, and after three surgeries everyone agreed his playing days were over. But he was lucky to have met a very wealthy booster at college who took a liking to him, and when he left, he set him up as the general manager of a very successful car dealership in town and gave him the use of his house in a very exclusive section of town known as Deer Park manor. That’s where we were heading now.

I asked him about his current relationship with Teri. He laughed and said that I had been the best thing for their relationship because after that night at the reunion she had gone on pills and a diet and took up a fitness routine at the gym and in the process had begun to rapidly shed weight. She was apparently quickly on her way to regaining her high school figure. I can’t say that pleased me, because I truly did relish looking so much better than she did, but how could I complain, really, since her boyfriend was taking me off to have sex with me.

“Where is she tonight?” I asked.

“Back at her apartment.” “Doesn’t she live with you?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

“Most of the time, but I told her she needed to keep her own place ’cause I needed space every once in a while. I need space tonight.”

“I hope you won’t keep much space between us tonight!” I teased.

He laughed and said he intended to invade my space very deeply! I could feel my nipples stiffen.

“How’d a wimp like Joey get a hot body like you, Chloe,” Derrick asked off handedly.

“Maybe ’cause you didn’t ask,” I kidded.

When we pulled into the driveway where Derrick lived, I was definitely impressed. It was a magnificent Tudor style house with a large, manicured lawn and lush gardens lit by soft yellow lighting that lent the entire landscape a soft, romantic appeal.

“God, Derrick, this is beautiful.”

“So are you, babe,” he said, pulling me closer to him and bending down to kiss me.

His kiss was almost exactly what I expected: urgent, demanding, aggressive. It was perfect. My response was instant submission. I signaled in every way possible that I was now his to do what he wanted. When he reached down to pull my sweater over my head, I felt my heart begin to beat frenetically. Tonight, I was going to be what I promised at the reunion.

“You have a fantastic rack, babe,” he said holding both breasts in his hands while feeling their heft. “Fucking heavy, too! You had this rack in high school?”

“They kinda grew all of a sudden in my sophomore year,” I murmured.

“Why the fuck didn’t you show them? I’d been on you so fast. God damn these are fine,” he said, kneading my boobs forcefully now and pinching my straining nipples. “Well, their mine now and that’s all that counts,” he said. “I’ll want to show a couple of friends this set, you know.”

I just nodded and said quietly, “Yes, of course….. Like you said, they’re yours now.”

Out of the car, I felt exotic and enticing, standing topless in the soft light of Derrick’s enchanting yard.

“You’ve got a totally hot body, babe. I’m going to want to show that too. Now lose the mini”

I immediately unzipped the skirt and squirmed out of it, pleased at the way he looked at me and proud to be the source of his admiration. Standing now in nothing but thigh highs and heels, I watched him soak up my figure, running his hands over my hips onto my butt and then to my yearning clit. His touch there and his subtle penetration nearly buckled my knees. If he wanted to show me off, then I wanted him to show me off. Desperately!

“Pick your clothes up and throw them in the trash over there. You won’t need them again.”

This is the fourth installment of the Kentucky Woman saga. Kay and Frank met first in Kentucky when Frank was on a business trip. Their attraction was obvious and after one date and numerous phone and email communications, Kay traveled to New York to visit Frank where he opened her world up to new, exciting sexual possibilities. Now the couple are back in their respective homes; Kay in Kentucky, Frank in New York. What follows is an account of their sexual lives apart starting with this called Interlude One.

Kay was back in Kentucky and I was busy working here in New York. Life went on pretty much as it did before we met. We talked on the phone several times a week and communicated daily via email and chat messenger. Kay bemoaned her situation in Kentucky; the close-mindedness of her small town, the lack of excitement, and, most of all, the scarcity of sexual possibilities.

“Frank, it’s like you turned me on to the new world, to this new me, and now I can’t do anything with it. I’m a prisoner again,” she said to me over the phone.

“Maybe you’re not looking or trying hard enough,” I said, half kiddingly. “Maybe you need to dig under the surface to find what you need.”

“Believe me, Frank, there is nothing on or under the surface here. I’ve lived here almost all my life and I would know if there was.”

“Why don’t you move then?” I asked.

“I complain, Frank, but I really love this place. My house. My animals. The job I have is amazing. And my memories of Gregory here. I could never leave Kentucky so you’ll just have to continue to listen to me complain.”

That made us both laugh and then in that throaty, musky slightly Southern drawl I found so sensuous, she said, “But god, Frank, I miss your cock. I miss waking you up with my tongue and mouth. Feeling your cock get thick and hard in my mouth. And then having you fuck me, the way you do. Gawwwd, I miss that.”

And I did too. Just her talk of it aroused me and I think she knew it by the silence on my end when she described our sex.

“I’ve been wearing out my toys, Frank,” she said with a laugh. “While you get to wear out those New York sluts.”

The truth was that I hadn’t been with anyone since she left. It wasn’t that I was being monogamous; it was really that no situation had come up and I wasn’t one to go on the hunt for sex. It usually came to me. I was lucky that way.

“No, baby,” I said. “We are in the same boat right now as far as that goes.”

“Why don’t I believe you, you dog,” she kidded.

I laughed. “You should. I’ll tell you when and if it happens. I promised you that.”

“You did, but somehow I’m not so sure you would.”

“I will….as long as you can take what I tell you.”

“It will be hard, but I want to know, Frank.”

“You will, Kay. But let’s agree not to say anything until after something happens.” I said.

“Um, and why is that? Not that anything is happening on this end,” she asked.

“We don’t want to influence either of us in any way. Let’s let it play out without input from either of us. We’ll talk about it after.”

“Hmmm it sounds as if you’ve already got something brewing, Frank,” she said with suspicion in her voice.

“No, I don’t. But if I did, you wouldn’t know.” I cracked.

“Beast!” she cried playfully. “I want to change the subject now. Did I tell you the pool will be ready by the weekend,” she said. Kay often talked about her pool and how she liked early morning swims for exercise.

“You did, but you can again. And I plan on spending a lot of time in it when I visit.” I had already booked a week around the Fourth of July to visit her in Kentucky.

“Mmmmm, I’m dreaming of that,” she said. “And I plan on doing a little shopping for two piece suits this year.”

“I can just imagine you in them,” I said, thinking of her full, mature voluptuous body in a bikini; how her incredible breasts would be on display and her still high round ass. “And it’s a very pretty sight.”

“Why thank you sir,” she said. “It’s been since my twenties since I wore one. I think its time now. I no longer feel so….modest.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I said, smiling on my end.

That was the way most of our conversations went; just small talk, incidental stuff—until a few weeks later when I had something else to tell her about. “You sure you’re okay with it,” I asked again. “You don’t really need to know.”

“Oh but I do,” she said, resolutely. “I must know. I have to know who you fucked and how you fucked them. So stop procrastinating. Get on with it. I’m here on the other end of the phone line. I’ve showered and I’m in my robe. Maybe hearing you tell me what you did will have me go fetch a toy. And since you’re not here to help me, that’s what I’ll make do with.”

Her frankness made me laugh but I still was wary about telling her about my latest escapade.

“Go on now, Frank. I’m waiting…”

So I told her all of it. How it started. And how it ended. I lead a kickboxing class once a week at a high profile gym downtown. It’s generally for the more advanced but beginners are welcome as well. It’s a tough workout and usually concludes with partners pairing off and sparring. The past couple of weeks a new student had come to the class; a woman in her early to mid-thirties. She had skills that were obvious, going through my workout and drills without really any hardship. Her first session, she refrained from sparring, just watching from sidelines. But the next time she came, I paired her with a woman around her size and skill level. I watched as they sparred and noticed how fierce she was. She attacked relentlessly, just barely staying in the boundaries and guidelines we set for safety. We practice light contact, but she was bordering on full contact. She totally overwhelmed her partner who was not used to being pummeled. So much so, that I had to end the match prematurely.

As soon as I ended the match the woman, who sported a long auburn ponytail, immediately apologized to her partner and then came to me. “I’m so sorry,” she said, still flushed and perspiring from the match. “Sometimes I get carried away when sparring. I need to get it better under control.”

“Yeah, you need to,” I agreed. “You won’t find many sparring partners if you step over the lines here.”

She nodded. “Yes, I know. I need to work on that, but,” she looked at me and grinned slyly. “it wasn’t that bad. she’ll live.” Her reply this time was more arrogant than apologetic. I could see that she had no shortage of self confidence. And the way she looked at me, it was as if she wanted me to make sure I knew it.

She had bright blue eyes, well defined, muscular shoulders and arms and was pretty, but with a harsh edge to her. I pegged her in her early to mid-thirties. “I’m Christina,” she said, holding out her hand to me. “You run a very tough, disciplined class here, Frank. It’s impressive.”

“Thank you, Christina. Wherever you’ve trained has obviously done a good job. You’re very skilled.”

My compliment induced a satisfied smile on her face. “I work out at a small gym in L.A. I’ve kick-boxed for several years. I’ve also competed in Muay Thai and have a black belt in Karate.”

“Muay Thai, huh? I got a good dose of that when I was in Special Forces.”

“Oh?” Her blue eyes gazed over me after I dropped the Special Forces mention. It was then when I knew there was more than just a martial arts interest.

“Are you here in New York for good now?” I asked.

“No, just for a few more weeks. My husband has business here. I asked around and your class was recommended to me as one of the best in the city.”

“Well that was kind of them. Nice to know I’ve got a good rep somewhere.” I said self-deprecatingly

“Yeah, and I’m glad they did. Anyway, I need to run. I’ll see you next time.”

And the next time I paired her with a man. Again she just barely stayed within the boundaries of light contact I practice at the gym. Giving him all he could handle and more. Her outfit was also a little more flashy; an expensive torn top and loose karate pants; her firm, six-pack abs exposed for all to see.

After the class she came over to me again. “Frank, I would love to work a private session with you if that’s possible. I don’t want to seem too cocky, but I really need more of a challenge. I hope you understand.”

Her eyes probed mine when she asked me. “I don’t know, Christina. Any time you train, you make your own challenges.”

“I know that, but, I really like to set my own personal bar as high as possible. You’re a really great teacher and I think I can benefit from some one on one with you. What do you think? Can you find some time?

I knew the gym was free on Thursday nights and we arranged to meet then.

“Of course I’ll pay you for your time,” she said. “I know this is out of the ordinary for you and I appreciate it.”

“I’m a volunteer here,” I said. “No money please.”

Okay, if you say so.”

She was waiting for me when I arrived at the gym that Thursday, already loosening up on the mats. She was wearing baggy sweat pants and this time even less than before not even bothering with anything over her sports bra, her unusually ample, and from a quick glance, surgically enhanced cleavage very much evident. But there was no denying she worked to attain that flat, defined belly and muscles on her arms and shoulders. She greeted me with a bright smile and a hug, her body pressing slightly into mine as she did.

“You may not be hugging me when this is over,” I warned.

“Good, that’s exactly what I want to hear. Push me as hard as you want. Take no pity on me, Frank.”

“You’ll get none, I can assure you that,” I said with a sly smile.

I worked her to her limits; both of us quickly sweating. But she stayed with me. We took a break and then she asked if we could spar.

“That’s part of my regimen,” I said.

I let her start off strong; allowing her to attack but making her work hard to do so. Her kicks and punches were vicious, but I’ve taken much much harder though she didn’t know that. I could tell she was disappointed and even urged me on a bit. I continued my charade awhile longer until I knew she was convinced that she could defeat me. That’s when I started to counter, kicking repeatedly into those abs and following with jabs to her arms and helmet-protected face. She tried to come back at me, but she had used up most of what power she had left. A sweeping reverse kick finally put her on her back.

I helped her up and she took off her helmet, shaking out her long dark red hair. Her face again was flushed and she was sweating profusely. Her eyes were a bit glassy and she was breathing hard. “You’re okay? I didn’t go too far with you did I?”

She smiled curiously. “No…it was exactly what I wanted, Frank. You’re really good. Amazing really. You should compete.”

“No, my competing days are long over. I enjoy doing this; teaching, helping others improve.”

She looked me over and bit her lower lip self-consciously. “That’s noble of you. I know you said no money, but can I buy you a drink. Or dinner.”

“You don’t have to, Christina. Like I said, I enjoy doing this.”

“You said that, but what does that have to do with me inviting you to have a drink or dinner with me.” She took a step closer to me as she said that. Giving me a better look at her almost perfect body. Her intentions were becoming obvious.

“I can’t tonight,” I said.

“I’m leaving on Saturday, we only have a couple of days,” she said, looking me in the eyes. Making it even clearer what she really wanted. When I didn’t respond she raised the stakes: “Have you been to Bastardo?”

“I wish,” I said. “Three stars from the New York Times. No chance I’m getting there any time soon.”

“My husband knows the chef. Lunch or dinner. You name it, as long as it’s before Saturday.”

“Now you’re making me an offer I definitely cannot refuse,” I said. I had eaten at the chef’s previous restaurants. He was one of the best young chef’s in the city. And Bastardo was one of the hardest to get a table to.

“I figured it would take a food offering to get you to the table with me,” she said, again giving me that look, her eyes roaming my body.

“I’m free Friday for lunch,” I said.

“Done,” she said. “12:30 at Bastardo. You know where it is?”

“It’s in that new hotel on Fifth and 36th?”

“Uh huh. I’ll meet you for there,” she said. “And I’m very much looking forward to it,” she added grinning back at me as she headed to the locker room.

I don’t know what I was looking forward to more; dining at Bastardo or the very real possibility of much more with Christina. Yes, food means that much to me. When I arrived at the restaurant and saw her sitting already at our table; a corner booth away from most of the other tables—the best in the restaurant—and the sight of her, out of kick boxing fare, her copper-colored hair flowing and wearing a curve-hugging thigh high dress with thin straps that showed off her defined arms and cut low enough to reveal her tanned cleavage, both my appetites were raging.

She gave me a glowing smile as I arrived. I was dressed in jeans, a white button down shirt, and a blue sport jacket. “Oh my, so very handsome,” she said looking me over.

“And you look even lovelier than you do when you are pounding your sparring opponent,” I said with a grin.

“I’m glad you approve,” she said. She patted the seat next to her as opposed to the one opposite her. I hesitated for a moment, remembering that it was her husband who had the contact at the restaurant. I figured, however, that whoever her husband was, she had been given free reign to do as she wished. So after a very brief deliberation, I squeezed next to her, trying hard not to make physical contact, but she made sure that she did, moving her thigh against mine immediately.

“Your husband must have a pretty high rep to snag a table like this at one of the hottest restaurants in New York,” I said, hoping to learn more about her relationship with him. “Is he in the restaurant business?”

“No, he’s in entertainment. And he’s always happy to make me happy,” she added, confirming my suspicions. She turned her eyes to mine and applied a bit more pressure to my thigh with hers. It was her less than subtle way to further indicate that whatever she wanted her husband would provide for her. Unless I’m denser than I thought, it was clear what she meant.

Before we could talk further, the wait staff was upon us. We ordered a bottle of wine and let the chef prepare a sampling. The meal was a sensual feast and lasted over two hours. Christina’s appetite matched my own; she ate everything with gusto. We talked readily about our passion for martial arts. She told me how she got started; how she was overweight and directionless until she began to exercise. She even admitted her obsession with her training to the point of abandoning some of the philosophies of the arts. All the while, her thigh was next to mine and occasionally her hand would wander there as well, her nails stroking casually, as if it was the most natural thing for a married woman with a big shot hubby to be doing in a three star restaurant.

When the waiter asked about dessert, she shooed him away. She looked at me and said, “Well, Frank, what do you think?”

“I think that was one of the most memorable meals I’ve had in quite some time,” I said.

“I agree,” she said. “But I didn’t mean about the food.”

She continued to stare at me. The wine had made her slightly tipsy, yet her eyes were sparkling. “Shouldn’t we now just cut to the chase?” she said, assuming I knew what she meant.

And, from the way she was looking at me, I did.

“Confident, aren’t you?” I said, really just teasing her.

“Oh yes, I am,” she said. “So confident that I’ve already booked a suite here. Room 2302 to be exact.” And then she moved her hand up my thigh a bit higher and squeezed again keeping her eyes on mine.

“I bet the view is incredible from up there,” I said, smiling at her.

She summoned the waiter for the check. “I hope you have lots of time to admire it,” she said, playing along.

I nodded. “I’m sure it’s one not for rushing but for savoring.”

“Mhmmm,” she purred. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The elevator ride seemed endless. Christina was leaning against me, taking my hand and squeezing it. As soon as we got to the suite, which was enormous and did have an amazing view of both the Empire State Building from one exposure and the Chrysler from another, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hungrily while working off my sport jacket. She then moved her hands to my shirt, pulling, tugging trying to get it unbuttoned and off while licking at my neck. While she was doing that my hands were roaming her hard, muscled body.

“Mmmmm god, those hands. I love them, Frank,” she murmured “I wanted them on me the first time I took your class. And I know you know how to use them.”

I squeezed her ass at that and she cooed. She got my shirt off and quickly raked her nails over my chest before burying her head in it. “I love a man with hair on his chest,” she said as she caressed and kissed at my pecs. One hand moved lower, over my flat belly and then to the girth in my jeans.

She murmured again as she squeezed. “You do have a thick cock, don’t you, Frank. I usually can tell by a man’s body type.”

“Well, let’s see if you’re right,” I said, teasing her.

“Hmmm, lets…,” she said as she worked my belt open and then my jeans. Her hands were working deftly as she slid one under my briefs and quickly found what she was seeking. She stroked down the length and then tried to grip it. “Oooohhh”


“Right again,” she said with a giggle as she sucked at one of my nipples.

“Okay, enough about me,” I said, moving away from her. “How long before I get to admire that view you were bragging about.”

She gave me a coy look and reached behind her back to unzip her dress, sliding the thin straps over her defined shoulders.

I sat back on the big bed, naked, my hand loosely on my cock as I watched her undress for me. She was wearing a half bra, her perfectly surgically enhanced breasts almost totally revealed, her blue eyes continually on me as she unhooked the bra. Her body was bronzed, obviously artificially, with no tan lines evident on her breasts. Her nipples were half dollar-sized and now protruding excitedly. She grazed her nails over her six pack abs to her thong, sliding it down slowly over her muscled thighs. She had a very thin red landing strip above her glistening pussy. Now naked, she posed for me. “How about the view, Frank,” she said, a cocky grin on her face.

“Better than advertised,” I said, “but a closer inspection is needed.”

She smiled and moved toward me. Her eyes were roaming my body hungrily, focusing on my thickening cock. When she was closer, I reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto the bed. She was reaching for my cock, but I pushed her hands away, turning her around so that her head was on the edge of the bed as I stood over her. “Put those hands under your ass,” I demanded.

“What?” She looked at me curiously, but I had a plan for her. I knew what she really wanted from me.

“Your hands, keep them under you,” I repeated. “I don’t want you touching me…until I tell you.”

“Frank, but…”

“Do it!” I said with more force as I teased my cock over her face and lips, her tongue flicking out to try to catch it. Her hand reached up again to try to grab it and I pulled away.

“Do as I say,” I commanded.

She cursed, but put her hands under her and I brought my cock to her lips. Her tongue snaked out, swirling over it. My hands were under her head, guiding her as she began to take it into her mouth. Standing over her, I began to bury my thick cock into her mouth as she moaned, squirmed, and sucked on it. Using both of my hands, I held her head as I thrust my cock into her mouth. She slurped and sucked, her face turning crimson. I moved my cock back and forth in her mouth as she moaned on it and then I pulled it out again.


She stirs, stretches and wakes. I watch her closely. Her eyes open to find mine staring straight into hers. She smiles and we kiss. Are you ready? Yes. Yes what? I am ready. What are you ready for? I am ready to prove my dedication and commitment to our relationship. Will you do everything I say without question or hesitation? Yes, I will do whatever you say: try me, test me; you’ll see that I mean what I say. Then let’s start the day with some coffee. You’ll find the makings in the kitchen. While the coffee perks, open all of the curtains so the sun can shine in.

She slides out of bed and reaches for a robe. You only need to wear your panties. She smiles. I love the way her ass twitches as she walks and turns the corner. The dark skin, smooth and curved, outlines the white of her panties. I am hard again, thinking of everything this day would hold for me. My hands itch to take my cock but I hold them over my head. My back arches and I squirm but I do not lower my hands. Linda returns with two mugs of coffee and I sit up. She stands next to the bed and I run my hand all over her. With the flat of my palm, I gently rub across her ass, feeling the curves and mounds held beneath the gentle stretch of her panties. My hand drops down runs along the inside of her thigh and then up to her pussy, which was already soft. She rubs her clit against my palm.

While my hands roam her body we sip coffee and talk of the upcoming day. I want to try the new museum. Then we can go out for lunch. That’s a good start for the day anyway. After that, we can just sort of play it by ear. But for now, I want another cup of coffee. She gathers up the cups and heads off to the kitchen. I can tell by her walk that she is really getting into the mood. She returns with two cups, but I tell her she has to blow me while I have second cup. I pull down the cover and my hard cock bounces into sight. She bends down and takes me into her mouth. Remember, I want to come in your mouth and I want you to swallow all of my cum.


I have to take my hands away and grip my thighs. My panties have slid down to my ankles and I kick them off. My cock twitches and jumps as the orgasm retreats back down my cock. I tickle my balls and a brief spurt of precum slips out. That was my first run up to the edge an orgasm. But I need to take a break. I dress again and my cock subsides, softens, and shrinks. This time, I put the cage back on. Dressed only in those tight panties, I go to the kitchen and wash the dishes. By the time, the last dish is dried, my mind has left that house, that weekend. Now it is time to return. Leaving the cage on, I go back to my easy chair, lean back and pull my legs up. I press the soles of my feet together and my legs are spread wide. I run my hands over my thighs and compressed cock. Then I return to Linda.


I explode into her soft but electric mouth. Her tongue presses up against the underside of my cock. She holds my balls with one hand. With three intense spasms, I empty my balls and she takes it all. She slips me out of her mouth, looks up at my eyes and swallows. Then she starts to lick me, running her tongue over my cock as my orgasm slowly calms down. I’d forgotten that I have a coffee cup in my hand. I gulp down what’s left and say let’s go take a shower.

We go together and embrace under the streams of hot water. The sound of the water and the second cup of coffee have made me want to piss. I turn off the water and tell her to kneel. Hold up your breasts. I’m going to piss on them. She turns her head and I let loose a stream of yellow piss. It splashes against her breasts and then runs down her body to finally drip off her pussy hair. I aim the stream for her nipples, which harden.

When I’m finished, I turn the water back on and Linda gets to her feet. I turn her around and reach under her arms. After rubbing soap into a lather in my hands, I begin to wash her. Her black hair is plastered to her head and the white soap foam stands out against her darker skin. I kiss her neck as I slip my hands all over her front. Her pussy gets a particularly long scrubbing. Then she squirms around in my arms so I can scrub her back. She presses into me and slips easily against my skin, snuggling her breasts against me. Her shoulders and back are first and then my hands drop to her ass. With open palms, I scrub her ass. Then I run my finger down the crack between her cheeks. She squirms as my fingers brush across her asshole.

Then I tell her it is time for her to wash me. You are to use your hands to wash my arms and legs. However, I want you to use only your breasts to wash me down to my waist. Then I want you to use only your face. She kneels and reaches between my knees with soapy hands. My cock dangles right in front of her face. Despite my recent orgasm, I felt a stirring again. She encircles my leg with her hands and runs her palms up and down as thought stroking a giant hard cock. She pauses to add more soap to her hands and scrubs the other leg. When she stands to wash my arms, she traces her fingers over my soft cock once, but that is enough to make me shiver. She then rubbed soap against her breasts until a lather of sorts dripped off them. And she swung them against me, sometimes pushing hard so I could feel her hardening nipples and sometimes softly, sliding just her nipples back and forth. She slips behind me and starts in on my back, holding on with her hands and slithering against me in the slippery soapiness. Then she finally sinks back down to her knees and rubs her cheeks against my cheeks. Then her forehead against my lower spine and she raises her face so the tip of her nose runs over my asshole. She snuggles her whole face into the slippery mass between my legs and ass cheeks. I turn and she rubs her face against my ever-increasing cock. Sliding against her cheeks and eyes, my cock reaches full extension. She stands and we rinse off together.

I tell her to leave the shower and lay out our clothes for the day. She is not to put them on but wait for me. I tell her to dress all in white, and I will wear jeans and a tea shirt. I watch through the steamy glass while she dries herself and leaves the room. When I am dry and with the towel wrapped around my waist, I go to the bedroom. She has her white stockings, panties and bra, along with the sheers white dress, laid out on the bed next to my jeans and shirt.

I make her dress me first. She kneels to put my feet into my jeans, but I move very slowly. I love dangling right in front of her face. Eventually, she pulls up my jeans and sets them around my waist. Then she stands to tuck my cock into the pants. When she has finished and I am fully dressed, I step back to watch her. I tell her to start with the stockings. She lifts her foot up onto the bed and slips the toe of the stocking over her foot. By lifting her leg, she gives me an excellent view of her pussy: from the side, outlined against the skin of her other thigh, its gentle slope fully exposed. Soon, she gives a little knee bend to settle the legs of her panties, snug against her mons. During all of this, her breasts have hung free, shifting and bouncing freely. Now, she lifts her bra and settles her breasts in the cups. She drops the dress over her head but it is so thin that it covers little of her. Technically, she is dressed, but realistically, she’s dressed only in her underwear. I make her walk across the room and she is very sexy. I tell her to press her thighs together as she walks. It makes her ass twitch in the most beguiling manner.


By now, my cock is painful against the stiff and strong elastic panties. It can barely get hard, pressing out against the cage. My hands rub over it with abandon, but it’s all futile. I grip the front of the cage and lower the waist strip. My cock tumbles out and springs to full erection. I remove the cage and take my cock in hand. Sensations shoot out from the tip of it and slither their way down to my balls. The little flap of nerves and skin under the tip seep electricity that accumulates at the base of my cock. Precum almost jumps from tip. There is no way I’m going to last through the weekend with Linda, unless I try one of my tricks. Oral gel. Maximum strength. This is a 20% Benzedrine solution is a gentle cream that effectively numbs any skin it comes into contact with. I carefully smear it on my tip and that special flap of skin only. This way, I can continue to play with myself, continue in the clearest of dreams, without moving any closer to ruining it all with an orgasm.


Let’s go to the museum. It’s a small but high quality museum with about twelve rooms for expressionists and Americana. There is even a sketch by Rembrandt. Naturally, there is also a small café and a gift shop. We park in the crowded lot and begin out walk. I slow things down at this point so I can savor each bump and wiggle of her walk across the lot. Some people notice her but they do not stop since they are already on their way out. The guard at the door however, stares greedily and openly. Linda and I walk straight at him and so I know he can see all of her. I know she knows it to. We stop to ask him how much the entry fee is. Linda blushes but waits quietly. I pay at the door and we go in.

The front lobby is dominated by a large picture of some naked women trying to push a satyr into a lake. We stand in front of it to give everyone in the room a long view of her back side. I ask and she tells me that she can feel the eyes upon her: some caressing each cheek, others trying to pry her legs apart. She tells me she likes it; she’s getting wet and wide feeling their eyes on her. Her nipples visibly poke out from her bra. Slowly we mount the stairs and a museum guard follows us. Two more joined him as we moved through the museum.

We meander down to the coffee shop and I select a table outside on the patio. The sun erases what little covering her dress gave her. The group of museum guards sat behind me so they could see Linda’s breasts. She tells me that they are staring at her and I ask her if she likes it. Yes, very. Sit up straighter. She does. After we finish lunch, we leave, and they leave with us. This time, they get in front of us by the door and watch from the front as Linda walks towards them. They do not try to hide their leering. We walk slowly through the parking lot to our car. The boys stay with us, trailing slightly behind. As we pull out of the parking lot, Linda lowers her window and blows them a kiss.


I am now furiously pulling at a cock that shrinks in my hand. The benzocaine has done its work and my cock is completely numb. I cover it again with lotion and continue stroking and dreaming, waiting for feeling to return. I wrap my fist around it and twist my hand back and forth. There is only a little feeling if I grab hard enough. Soon, I am rubbing my palm over a soft and lotion covered cock. Now I will have lots of time to dream. I put my hands over my head and return to Linda.


I pull into a pharmacy parking lot on the way back to our place. You will need to go in and buy three things we’ll need tonight: some KY jelly, two condoms and a package of enemas. I tell her she will have to ask for the enemas at the pharmacy counter. I wait in the car while she goes in. I watch her ass as she disappears through the doors. Her panties switch and shift. She emerges a few minutes later, walking rapidly and carrying a small paper bag. Did you get them? She nods yes. Tell me about it.

Everyone in the store knew immediately that something was up when I entered. The workers all stared. One boy’s mouth was hanging open. I went straight up to one of them and asked where the condoms and KY Jelly were on display. He could barely speak, but he got out “Isle Seven.” I got the condoms and jelly, and then headed for the pharmacy counter at the back. It was slightly raised and the pharmacist as staring at me and I met his eyes. I stared at him staring at me as I walked up to the counter. When I asked for enemas, I thought he was going to bust. I could feel the intensity of their eyes on me as I walked out of the store. Just for fun, I paused to look at some nail polish. Did you like it? I was so hot that I’m surprised I didn’t have an orgasm just walking. I really wanted to lift my skirt but I didn’t want to get in trouble.

I tell her to pull her skirt up to her waist. I touch her pussy; its warmth and wet had soaked through the material. We are a hazard on the road because I keep looking at her panties and how they tuck in between her legs. Still we made it. As we come up to the front door, I tell her to kiss me, passionately and hard. She presses up against me; I lower my hand to grab her ass; a car goes by. Then we enter.


I test my cock again and there is still no feeling. Lifeless, as though belonging to someone else.


I tell her to make us some drinks. I’d like a red wine mixed with effervescent water. She mixes herself a straight scotch and a glass of water. I place a stool in front of the couch, across from the windows. Then, I just drank in the sensuous shape and movement of watching her from behind. She tosses off the scotch and brings me my wine.

She sits on the stool and I sit across from her on the couch. I tell her to tell me a dirty story, some fantasy. She says I am standing with my lover at a busy street corner. There is enough foot traffic that a sizeable crowd develops before the light changes to walk. He tells me to cross the street and wait until the light changes. Once I cannot cross the street until the next light change, he has told me to remove my dress. I am wearing a simple sundress over sexy lingerie and high heels. So, I stand among strangers, on a street corner and pull my dress up and over my head. It takes people a few minutes to realize that I am standing there in matching bra, panties and stockings. Most of the people on the other side are staring at me to as the light changes. I walk straight towards the other side in front of a line of stopped cars. There must be over 20 people walking towards me as my breasts quiver with each step. I get to the other side and he holds out his hand to take the dress from me. And now, the bra. I can’t believe what I just heard but a part of me, a strong part, wants to be so sexy as to excite an entire crowd. With passer-bys staring at me, I unhook my bra, shrug it off, and hand it to him. He tells me to go do the same routine but this time remove my panties since I don’t have a dress. I have to wait a moment before the light changes, but then I walk across, in only my panties, in front of an entire intersection of people, among a crowd crossing the street. And this is when I start to enjoy it. As I watch others watching me, drawing the attention of so many people, and I get instantly wet and wide. I step out of my panties. The only way to do this is not to cringe. So, I stand up straight, hiding nothing, as I wait for the lights to turn. And then I walk as though I were fully dressed, breasts swaying and bouncing. I fear I might have an orgasm in the middle of this intersection. I am almost crazed with lust and embarrassment by the time I get back to him. He gives me back my clothes and I dress again, right there on the street corner, under many staring eyes.


The lotion that I put on my cock has dried and thickened into a sticky mess. So, I shower. The water runs down my body, making my blood readjust itself and my cock slowly falls. It is still dead numb as I wash it clean of lotion. By the time I step out of the shower, it has gone completely quiet and limp. I can feel a tightness in my balls but there is only one way to let it out. I dress again in a tee shirt but this time the panties are looser. They are still made of cotton and so make an orgasm impossible. Even so, my cock is not pushed against my abdomen and it can move more freely. I go back to my chair and run my fingertips across my cock and balls. There is a little stirring, so still touching myself, I return to the dream.


That is quite a story and she blushes. Is it a true story? No, it is the dream I use to masturbate. The afternoon is gone and the sun sinks out of the sky. Shadows begin to build in the corners. I want to show you of some more and I turn on a lamp right next to her. Sitting on the stool next to the lamp, she is the most illuminated thing in the room, making her easily visible from the road outside. I put some slow music on the stereo. Please dance for me. She slides off the stool and starts to sway. She has both her hands joined behind her head and under her hair. She slowly sways her hips and slides her hands down her neck. She begins to touch herself all over. She drapes her fingers along the sides of her breasts, than down to spread across her belly. Then down again, along her hips. Then back up. As she dances, I can see that she is getting excited. Her nipples have hardened and poke out the front of her shirt. While she dances, my eyes roam all of her body. The sheer dress makes it seem as though she is dancing half naked.

The doorbell rings. She looks around startled. I ordered Chinese for dinner when we first got back. That’s the delivery guy. Go get our supper. There is money on the table. Her hair is tousled from dancing and she is obviously aroused. Stand up tall and let him look all he wants to. I follow to watch. The delivery man’s eyes pop out when she answers the door. His mouth doesn’t fall open; it sort of slowly slips opens. Linda smiles at him and spins. She then hands him the money and tells him to keep the tip. The door shuts in his face. We smile into each other’s eyes.

We eat by candlelight. The shadows are so soft on your face. Umber blushes beneath your eyes. I love the line of your jaw and how it slides down onto your shoulder. Turn your face to the candle. Your eyes glint in the light. And the line from your jaw now flows into, not your shoulder but your breasts. Full and firm in the light. Please stand. There, the entire flow of your body runs up from your foot and leg, encased in white stockings. The straight line made by the lacy ends of the hose contrasts with the curves around it. The white curve of your panties enhances the general shape of your loins by slightly opposing them. Where your flesh curves out, the stretchy white material curls in. The shadows that hide your belly begin beneath your breasts. The shadows accumulate there into mystery, which angles downward. That obscurity and mystery calls to me. I stand behind you and lean gently into you. I put my hand under your arm and flat upon your belly. I smell the nape of your hair as I glide my hand from beneath your breasts to the top of your mons. Your hips press back against me.

Come, stand in the light. I lead her into the middle of the room, just in front of the windows. She is standing so she can see us reflected in the window. I am behind her with both of my hands crossed on her belly. I slide them slowly down to pinch the hem of her dress in my fingers. Then I slowly raise them, pulling the dress up past her knees, her panties, and finally over her head. I keep rubbing her with my hands, now even more revealed without the gauzy obscurity of her dress. She can feel my hands unhook her bra and she can see the cups separate from her flesh. I lower the straps down her arms and the bra fall to the floor. Standing there, only in her panties, my hands running all over her body. Any one going down the street has a clear view of her. She arches her back and twists her head to kiss me. I turn her and we enter into a fierce embrace. I can smell her sex. You know what happens next. No, I don’t. Now I want to enter you. I want to enter you everywhere. I want you completely. I get the enemas from the bag. Prepare yourself for one of these but don’t administer it. You’ll find a large syrnge. Kneel on the bed, ass in the air and insert this. But, don’t push the plunger. I’ll be up soon. I watch her ass twitch across the room under her white lace panties as she enters the bed room.

Marriage is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. Two people joined in a union of sharing, caring and love.


Susan’s marriage was all about maintaining good relationships between rivalling families. Anyone would think this was the Dark Ages, an arranged marriage of a white 18 year old, 5′ 6″, blonde goddess with perfectly pert tits and well rounded ass to the son of a billionaire crime boss. However, this was 2011 and Susan was walking down the aisle to meet the man she was betrothed to for the first time in her life.

Having recently moved to England, from America, Susan was the only daughter of a renowned crime family. Her father was the head of a mob that controlled most of the prostitution, drug and racketeering trade in several states. It was decided, when she was younger, that she would be joined with a family who controlled the European interests of the company. For this reason, she was kept house bound for most of her teenage life, with limited access to only female friends.

On her 18th birthday, she was told that her wedding would be the following week. All the arrangements had been made and her belongings had been packed for the flight the following day. Stunned, Susan could do no more than look down politely at her feet and nod her head. Arguing with her father was pointless, she’d seen her mother do it and now she was permanently hospitalised after he beat her senseless.

Women meant little in her father’s profession. They were just a means for pleasure or to create off spring. Aware that her father never loved her mother, it was unsurprising she was not going to be allowed to form a love match like her brothers. Although in their cases, the love match was very one sided, both their wives had little choice in the matter. Both often supported heavy bruising from ‘punishments’ afflicted upon them by their beloved husbands.

Susan led a sheltered life, but had never been ‘punished’ by anyone. Understanding early on that being the docile daughter was expected, she performed her role to perfection. Instead believing that her sister-in-laws ‘punishments’ were their own fault for disobeying their husbands and that when she was married she would never give her husband call for such treatment.

Now here she was, walking down to meet the man who would look after her and be her husband. Taking ownership of her from her father who currently held her arm in an almost vice like grip. If he doubted her commitment he needn’t have bothered. Upon sight of her new partner she was relieved. Tall, dark and handsome was a perfect description of John Smith.

Startlingly blue eyes, which seem to piece deep into her soul, watch her coming towards him. After reaching the church altar, he takes her hand in his and she gets a perspective of his strength as he crushes her fingers ever so slightly. Turning her eyes to look at him further, she sees a grin spread across his face as he squeezes tighter. Looking at her father, he just nods and she is released. Ownership is passed. All that is needed now are the words to cement the union and the consummation that was inevitable tonight.

From that moment on, everything seems to go in a blur. The ceremony is over in what seems like seconds and the following sit down meal and reception seem elaborately surreal and dreamlike. It occurs to Susan that she has not even spoken to her husband yet other than to proclaim her vows. Seeking him out, she finds him talking to her father and brothers.

Laughter and jesting abound, as the men discuss various issues, anecdotes and sporting news. Susan waits patiently for them to finish, knowing all too well that her father and brothers hate to be interrupted when they are talking. When finally they finish, her father looks over at her.

“She’ll make you a good wife. She’s been a faithful daughter and I’ve never had to beat her. I’ve kept her safe for you and I know for a fact she is still a virgin. I hope you’re very happy with her.”

Stunned at her father’s declaration of her maidenhood, Susan looks into the amused eyes of her husband, John.

“I think I’ll enjoy her very much. Thank you for raising her so well, she is quite the beauty. However, I think we’ll take your leave and make the most of the hotel room we have booked upstairs, time to take care of that cherry and make this marriage official.”

With even more laughter echoing in her ears, Susan is forcefully pulled away by John towards the hotel foyer. Susan struggles to keep pace in her high heels as he swiftly moves to the lifts. Whilst waiting for it to arrive, she is startled by his mouth suddenly locking upon hers. This is no chaste kiss, his lips mash against hers and his tongue slips inside. It feels like a violation, having never kissed this way before, she moves her head backwards to be stopped by John’s hand holding her firm. His large hand holding her neck with his fingers laced into her hair, it hurts as he pulls her in even deeper.

Responding in a way she hopes will please him, she gives over to the kiss hoping it will stop as soon as the lift arrives. However, as the doors open and the previous passengers vacate, he keeps possession of her lips and moves them inside. Once there and the door closes, he presses the executive button to the top floor and pushes her back against the wall. Never once does he break his hold or even seem to lose concentration with his exploration of her mouth.

Alone, pushed up against the mirrored wall, Susan starts to panic slightly. If a simple kiss was hard to bare what would their consummation be like? With him this close to her she could feel the threatening bulge in his pants, she can even feel it throbbing as he continues to kiss her fiercely. Unsure of what to do with her hands she keeps them limply by her sides, thus allowing him free access to her body.

Unreservedly, he moves to grasp her tits through her exquisite wedding gown. Finally overcome with emotions, Susan’s hand automatically comes up and slaps John’s face with as much force as she can muster. The sound echoes around the lift and the realisation of what she has done hits her with the reverberation. Slowly, looking into his eyes confirms her thoughts. Susan has just made the worst mistake of her life.

“Quite the swing, Darling! However that is no way to treat your new husband. I think it’s time you learnt your new role in life, My Pretty. From now on you belong to me, this is no ‘partnership’, you ain’t my ‘better half’. You’re mine to do with as I see fit. My father owns this city.

One more outburst like that and I’ll have you sectioned and thrown into the nearest mental asylum. Which, coincidentally, I own. There, I’ll get them to strap you to a table where I can do what the hell I want to you. Whilst the rest of the time, they’ll send electric shocks through that perfect body of yours until you pass out from the pain.

Now, I don’t want to hear a sound out of you unless I ask, you’ll do everything I want and you’ll smile and be polite. You father raised you better than this, I’d hate for you to disappoint him!”

Standing dumb from disbelief, Susan is unable to react as John takes her flimsy bodice in both hands and rips it clean down the front. Two pert tits fall freely out as the dress provided all the support she needed and now that had been removed. The air conditioning in the lift causes her nipples to harden automatically making them look enticingly edible.

Taking one in each large hand, John proceeds to pinch them both mercilessly whilst resuming his attack on her mouth with his tongue. Having never felt a man touch her, Susan is shocked by how much her body is reacting. Never did she think her breasts would be so sensitive, each pinch sending waves of pain through her body but also tiny shimmers of something that causes something deep inside of her to warm and tingle.

Inside John’s head is an array of sexual possibilities, when his new wife’s father and his had planned all of this over 10 years ago, he’d been a stroppy lad who hadn’t really liked the idea. At the time, Susan was only 8 and he couldn’t see how this would work out. However, now he could see the potential, at 29 he’d had many sexual partners, not all of the 100% willing, and lived out many of his fantasies. However, none of them he could keep. Now this kid had turned into a buxom goddess and he had the keys to the kingdom.

Ripping her gown further down her body, John takes a step back and looks at his new toy. Watching Susan shake as her dress hangs at her waist, whilst being observed, causes his cock to grow even harder. Perfect 10 with tits to die for. Callously, he orders her to do a little turn for him. Unfortunately, or fortunately for him, this causes her dress to lose all stability and it pools around her feet just as the elevator grinds to a halt and the doors open.

Susan grabs for her dress to once again be stopped by her husband. Wrenching the garment from her body, he hurls it away and pulls her semi-naked into the corridor. Stood only in her silky white pants with hold up stockings and high heels, she can see in the lift mirror the picture she makes. With nipples red and erect from John’s pinching she looks like a wanton slut. Ashamed, she tries to cover herself the best she can with her arms.

“Don’t you dare hide my property! I own that stunning body of yours and I don’t want it covered up. Put your hands on the back of your neck, stand up tall and walk out of the lift and to my room door. I want to watch that sweet ass shake and swing.”

With a light swat, Susan does as she is instructed, wiggling her ass as much as she can. She knows his earlier threat is true, she knew he owned several businesses including a mental institution. One look in his eyes and she knows that one serious mistake from her could be her undoing. Also, she knows that her father would stand by and let it happen as she was no longer his concern.

Nervously, Susan enters the corridor to find that John’s room is the only one on the floor. That means he’s booked the pent house for the night. Thankful that no one else would see her in this compromising position, Susan stands patiently by the door.

John, admiring the view, comes up behind her, picks her up and throwing her into a fireman’s lift. Opening the door he ‘carries her over the threshold’ and moves straight to the bedroom. Here he unceremoniously dumps her face down on the Emperor sized, four poster bed and strips off his own clothes.

Susan lies silently as her husband disrobes, she has never seen a grown man’s cock before and after only feeling it though his trousers she knows this one is ready for action. Once naked, her husband takes no time in dragging her by her legs to the end of the bed, bending her over the edge. With no warm up he shoves his cock straight into her dry cunt and Susan cries out in shock.

With a grunt, John pushes past her cherry with vigour and plants himself to the hilt. Holding still he looks down at his wife and smiles. So she was a virgin? He’d felt something break inside her and adored the tightness of her cunt. Pleased that he’d at least got what he’d paid for, John slowly pulls out to the tip. Digging his fingers into her hips he uses them like handles to violently pull them backwards onto him as he thrusts forward.

Susan screams again as his cock is forced back inside her repeatedly, feeling his balls bouncing off her ass as he buries himself in deep with each stroke. It seems forever until his grunts get deeper and he suddenly stops.

“I have no intention of getting you pregnant yet, My Pretty. I don’t want some rug rat getting in the way of having some fun with my new plaything. Also, there is more than one cherry I’d like to take today.”

With an evil laugh, John pulls his rock hard cock out of Susan’s aching cunt and aims it at his new goal. Spreading her ass cheeks apart with his fingers, he shoves the tip of his erection into her anus. Barely making it through, he gives her little time to adjust as he grasps her tits and uses those to pull her backwards to impale her onto his thrusting weapon.

Susan feels like she is going to be ripped open, the cock in her ass causes immense pain as it pushes up inside her. The rough fingers on her tits squeeze them painfully hard and her body is helpless to protect itself. As John picks up the pace, Susan struggles to stay conscious. Her brain wanting to shut her down from the pain, but she knows that this will not help.

Fighting to stay awake, she looks blankly at a picture on the hotel wall. It shows a woman and man obviously in love. He is kneeling, holding out a flower towards her. Romance, not the brutal violation she is suffering at the hands of her own husband. It seems John is graced with exceptional stamina, as he takes his time to unload his cum deep into her bowels. His last shove almost breaks her hips with its force.

John collapses against Susan’s back. Wow, it’s never been that good before. Normally, afterwards, he’d have to get his body guards to pay off the girl or give her a beating to warn her to keep her mouth shut. However, here was a girl he could do what he wanted to and she didn’t have to go anywhere. He could do it all again and she’d have to take it.

A slow smile creeps across his face as he spanks her harshly on the ass and pulls out his cock with an audible pop. Spreading her ass apart, he can see his cum dripping out her hole mixed with a tiny amount of blood. He’d have to be careful. He didn’t want to break her too soon. That would spoil all the fun.

Using her hair, he pulls Susan to her feet. The wincing in her eyes betrays the pain she is feeling inside. Shoving her towards the bathroom, he orders her to clean herself up and to bring back a cloth to sort him out.

With no hesitation, Susan almost runs to the privacy of the bathroom. Here she uses a soft cloth to clean the cum and blood out of her ass and cunt. Selecting another, she dampens it and wills herself to return to the bedroom. It takes her several minutes to build up the courage to leave, but knows that if she takes much longer she may displease him and fears his wrath.

Finding him sat at the end of the bed with his trousers round his ankles, she goes over and kneels in front of him. Using the cloth carefully, she removes traces of their bodily fluids from his cock. John moans softly as her soft administrations renew his erection. Wrenching the cloth from her, he grasps her hand and places it against him. Wrapping her fingers around his base and using her hand to wank himself. Her hands are soft and their touch almost sends him spewing cum all over the place. However, he’s honed his skill of control and has more in mind than a quick hand job.

Locking his fingers around her neck, he pulls her head until her painted lips are touching his pulsing cock. Again, one brush of that soft mouth is nearly his undoing, but he holds back and pushes himself past their barrier. Here he hits a wall of teeth that seem unmoving.

“Open wide, My Pretty. I’d hate to have to knock all those teeth out before I can carry on, but I will. I plan to shove myself right down that elegant throat of yours and fuck your face like I did that cunt and ass. When I cum, you’ll swallow the whole lot.”

Distraught, Susan reluctantly opens her jaw and allows the rock hard flesh into her mouth. Instead of resting there it proceeds straight to the back of her throat and she struggles not to gag. His hand on the back of her neck makes sure she cannot escape the infiltration and she closes her eyes to focus on her breathing.

John then does exactly as he explained, moving in and out of her, using her face like a cunt and fucking it for all it’s worth. Her constricting throat is delightful and it doesn’t take long until he buries himself deep and shoots his load straight down her gullet. There is no chance of any leaking with him stuffed inside, but after a cruel thought he pulls out and shoots the last drops onto her face.

Bending down to smear the cum across her face, John looks down on Susan with a fake angry glare.

“I said every drop, My Pretty. Looks like some escaped. So I guess I’d better teach you a lesson. It’s only a drop so I’ll only punish you a bit. That seems fair.”

With that, he pulls the belt from the trousers around his ankles and stands in front of Susan. Instructing her to wrap her arms around his legs, whilst she is still on her knees, he flicks the belt backwards and then flips it forwards, over her shoulders and landing it across her bare back. Straight away a red mark appears on her china doll skin and it is joined by several more in quick succession.

After several more lashes, he drops the belt and makes her stand and turn for him, keeping her arms locked on her neck so his view is not obscured. Pleased with his handiwork he orders her to re-dress and directs her to the oak wardrobe in the corner.

Inside is a red dress, cut low at the front all the way down to her navel with only a small broach to keep her breasts out of view. The high back covers her battered body and a slit on the side goes all the way up to her hip. Deadly looking stilettos accompany the outfit and she is shocked to see everything fits perfectly but also to see that no underwear has been provided.

Dressing quickly to regain some dignity, Susan is dismayed that the dress reveals more than she anticipated. The cloth is so thin that her dark nipples are clearly visible and the high slit shows a great deal of flesh as she walks. The shoes are difficult to balance in but she maintains her composure and walks back to her husband.

John has also redressed and is in the process of cutting up the hotels white bed spread. The section he takes is the patch where her maidenhood has bled, a lasting souvenir of their consummation and proof of her virginity. Folding it expertly he tucks it into his handkerchief pocket of his jacket so that he can display it proudly.

Barely uttering a word to her, he briefly allows her to refresh her make-up and then walks her back towards the elevator, past the shredded wedding gown. Once inside and the doors close, John takes the opportunity to view his bride. The dress was a perfect choice, showing off her new complete lack of innocence.

In his own way he was proud of her, he’d taken her roughly and she’d bared it well. Her walk was hampered by the soreness but she was carrying on with her duties and she wasn’t a hysterical wreck. Later, he was going to thank his father and apologise for doubting his management of his nuptials. John had every intention of enjoying this new union and seeing how far he could push his new wife.

Taking a brief opportunity to grope her before the elevator stopped, John crushed Susan against the mirrored wall. Shoving his hand up and under her skirt and straight between her thighs, using his own knee to open them, he digs his fingers into her slit and fucks them in and out. Once again probing her mouth with his tongue, he continues until the elevator bell rings and then disentangles himself.

Leading her by a secure grip on her arm he directs her back to their wedding reception in the grand main hall. Outside it is getting dark and a few members have returned home or to their hotel rooms. However, some continued to make the most of the disco provided and the open bar. Seeing their fathers deep in conversation, John steers his wife over to them.

“I’d like to thank you Sir, you’re daughter was very pleasing in the bedroom and I have the evidence of her virginity in my pocket. I look forward to further business dealings between yourself and our end of the organisation. Father, thank you for arranging such an enticing bride for me to marry, I think she will be most agreeable and will hopefully provide us with an heir to the family fortune one day.”

“Do you recall me promising to claim your entire body, slut?” Lady Miriam asked.

Sarah’s hands paused as she polished one of her mistress’s wooden phalluses, then quickly resumed her work. “Yes, mistress.”

“I’ve fucked your mouth and your sloppy cunt, but that ass of yours is still as unused as the day I bought you. Have you ever had anything up your ass, Sarah?”

Sarah’s anus puckered at the thought. It sounded painful. “No, Lady Miriam.”

“Would you like me to fuck your ass, slave? Be honest.”

“No, mistress,” she said meekly.

“Too bad. I’ll do whatever I like to your body.”

Sarah knew that to be the truth.

Lady Miriam sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here and lie across my lap.”

It was useless to resist. Sarah lay facedown across her mistress’s lap. Lady Miriam lifted her skirt up, baring her raised buttocks and covering her head. Lady Miriam traced delicate patterns over Sarah’s smooth buttocks. The sensation was heightened by Sarah’s collar. She couldn’t keep her hips still.

Lady Miriam spread Sarah’s cheeks and regarded her tight asshole. Gently, she dripped oil into Sarah’s crack and massaged it into the slave’s anus. Sliding one hand under Sarah, she laid a finger along each side of Sarah’s clit. The slight undulations of Sarah’s hips slid her clit between her mistress’s fingers.

Chuckling evilly, Lady Miriam spread a little ki-on extract over Sarah’s anus, pushing a little inside with her fingertip. The effect was immediate. As soon as the burning liquid touched her, Sarah began to squirm and writhe. Her anus clenched and loosened involuntarily, working the substance deeper inside her. The sensation was so intense, Sarah couldn’t decide if it was pain or pleasure. Not that it mattered; Lady Miriam would enjoy both.

“This really does hurt less if you relax,” Lady Miriam said. “Though I do like to fuck a tight, resisting hole, too.” She warmed one of her bronze buttplugs in her hand, then spread oil and more ki-on down its length.

Sarah squeaked and flailed at the pressure of the plug at her sphincter. Lady Miriam smacked her hard on the buttock, leaving a red handprint. “Lie still. I’m just going to open you up a bit. I’m not going to stick a cock in you just yet.” She stroked Sarah’s clitoris as she worked the plug into the girl’s ass. Sarah screamed as the plug invaded her rectum. It got wider and wider, stretching and filling her helpless ass. Then the widest part was past, and her muscles snapped tight around the narrower neck of the plug, pulling it even deeper into her ass. The flared base pressed against her anus.

“Good girl,” Lady Miriam said, stroking Sarah’s clit. In addition to the unaccustomed fullness, Sarah could feel the increasing burning of the ki-on on her tender membranes. She was so distracted by this that she didn’t notice Lady Miriam putting the stimulation belt on her until it was fastened around her waist. “No, please, I’ll let you do anything to my ass. Please don’t put me in that thing,” she said.

“Your ass is already mine. You don’t ‘let’ me do anything,” Lady Miriam said. “And I want you properly warmed up for tonight.” She fastened the second strap between Sarah’s legs, positioning the open slot so that Sarah’s swollen clitoris poked through. A drop of ki-on on that sensitive organ, and Sarah was propelled beyond rational thought. Her entire being focused on the throbbing of her clit, and the way her spasming muscles fucked her subtlety on the plug in her ass.

After what felt like hours, Revka came to retrieve Sarah. The burning in her clit and ass had finally eased. As long as she stayed still, Sarah was fine. The slightest movement, however, shifted the plug in her ass and rubbed her clit against the strap. Sarah moaned as Revka stripped her, washed her with cool water, and dressed her again. The dress was much more revealing than her everyday clothing: a short skirt and a low, tightly-laced bodice that threatened to spill her breasts out over the top. *Oh, well,* Sarah thought. *All the slaves and Lady Miriam have seen me naked already.*

Revka took her to the large formal dining room. Every step increased Sarah’s arousal, until she was moaning slightly as she walked. Revka opened the door and pushed her inside. Sarah froze. The room was full of people, over a dozen, eating dessert. They were dressed formally for dinner. She was dressed in the skimpiest outfit she’d ever worn.

Lady Miriam looked up and beckoned her over. Sarah went to her. “Kneel,” Lady Miriam ordered. Sarah gasped at the movement of the strap against her clit as she complied. “You’re mine to lend out as I like,” Lady Miriam said. Sarah flushed at the thought of being offered up to a stranger’s pleasure. Was her mistress going to let one of the guests use her? Lady Miriam continued. “I know you desperately need to orgasm, slut, but you can’t yet. You’re going to crawl on your hands and knees under this table and orally pleasure any of my guests who want to come in your mouth.”

That was worse than being sent to a guest’s room to be raped after supper. Sarah felt tears prickling at her eyes, but she knew she had to obey. Slowly, tormented by the stimulation belt, she crawled under the heavy table.

She was surrounded by knees. Men’s in black trousers, women’s in gowns. She looked around for an indication of whom she was to serve. There, off to her left. A woman had rucked her skirts up and spread her legs. Sarah crawled over and buried her head in the woman’s crotch. She used her trained mouth skillfully, teasing the woman’s clit until she came with a soft sigh. Sarah wondered if the woman’s conversation partners knew what was being done to her beneath the table.

Wiping her mouth on her hand, she looked for her next task. A man on the other side of the table had unbuttoned his trousers and freed his cock. It bobbed up towards the underside of the table, red and almost fully erect. Sarah approached hesitantly. Despite Revka’s lessons, she had never sucked a real cock.

He sucked in his breath when she closed her lips around the head. Running her tongue around the head of his penis, she felt him grow harder. He was almost as hard as one of the wooden dildos she was used to, but his smooth skin slipped over the hardness in an intriguing way. He wasn’t as big as most of Lady Miriam’s toys; she could do this. She closed her eyes and swallowed him. When she felt him hit the soft back of her throat, she opened farther and took him all the way in, as she’d been trained. She was startled when his hand grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her to bob up and down on his shaft. Fortunately, it only took a few thrusts to finish him. The cock twitched and swelled in her mouth. His hips jerked as he came, and she hit her head on the underside of the table, falling back hard on the plug in her ass. He had been so deep down her throat when he came that she had no option but to swallow most of his semen.

Sarah had serviced about half of the guests when dinner finished. Her stomach felt full of come, and she was glad she hadn’t had any dinner of her own.

Lady Miriam drew her out from under the table and gave her a napkin to wipe her face. The party moved to the parlor. “I want you all to get a good look at my newest acquisition, Sarah, since so many of you have made use of her talented mouth this evening,” she said. Sarah couldn’t help wondering which of the guests had come in her mouth. Probably not that blonde man with the bulging erection, unless he was very quick to recover. Did she remember the lace trim on that prim-looking woman’s dress?

Lady Miriam ordered Sarah to strip. Then she unlocked Sarah’s belt with her ring and peeled it out from between the slave’s soaking lips, which had puffed up around it. “Bend, over, Sarah, and show everyone what you’ve got in your ass.” Sarah wished she could die of embarrassment as she bent over and spread her ass cheeks, exposing the base of the bronze plug to all of Lady Miriam’s guests. She almost lost her balance as Lady Miriam pushed on the plug.

Lady Miriam guided her to a raised dais at one end of the room. “Get down on all fours with your ass towards the room,” she commanded. Raising her voice, she addressed her guests. “Before today, this little slutslave had never had anything in her ass.

She grasped the base of the butt plug, pulling the wide part against the inside of Sarah’s sphincter. Sarah knew what was coming. She tried to relax, but she still cried out in pain as her mistress ripped the plug from her inexperienced hole. The guests murmured as they watched her anus tighten and release uncontrollably. “I’d like to feel that clenched around my cock,” one of the men said. Sarah hoped his wish wasn’t going to come true.

“Since she’s mine, I think it’s only fair that I should be the one to rape her virgin ass for the first time,” Lady Miriam said. She strapped on a cock and sat in a wide armchair on the dais. She handed a bottle to Sarah. “Lube me up good, because this is going in your ass whether you like it or not.” Sarah’s hands shook as she obeyed. This was one of Lady Miriam’s smaller cocks, but it was still fairly large, with a bulbous head and ridges along the shaft.

“That’s right, slut. I’m going to fuck your ass with this in front of everyone, so they can see how much you love it.” The guests stood or sat according to their preferences, choosing vantage points from which they could all see the entertainment.

Lady Miriam’s cock jutted out lewdly from her hips, glistening with lube. Sarah’s cunt ached at the sight. *Why doesn’t she just fuck my pussy? It would feel so good….* But she knew the answer as soon as she thought the question. *Because this is more degrading for me, and she loves that.*

“Come here, slave,” Lady Miriam ordered. “Stand in front of me and face my guests.” Lady Miriam pushed Sarah’s feet apart so that her own legs were between Sarah’s, spreading them. “Put your hands behind you on the armrests.” Sarah was breathing fast and shallow now, afraid of the pain that she could do nothing to avoid.

Lady Miriam took hold of Sarah’s hips and pulled her down until the head of her cock was pressing against the girl’s anus. Slowly, ignoring Sarah’s whimpers, she worked the head into the tight hole. It hurt. Sarah had never felt so full, and she knew this was only the tip of the cock. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Lady Miriam pulled her hair sharply. “Open your eyes, slut. Look at everyone who’s here to watch me fuck you.” Everyone’s eyes were devouring Sarah’s naked flesh. The blond man had taken out his cock and was thrusting into his hand with deep, slow movements. He met Sarah’s eyes, and she knew he was imagining it was her ass gripping him, not his hand. On a wall behind the guests was a large mirror, the largest Sarah had ever seen. She could see herself reflected there, naked except for the slave collar, poised over her mistress’s cock.

Without warning, Lady Miriam spread her knees wider, knocking Sarah’s feet out from under her. Sarah caught herself on her arms, but she could feel the cock slowly sinking deeper into her ass. Her arms began to tremble under her weight. They gave out suddenly, and she fell fully back into Lady Miriam’s lap, impaling herself on the cock all the way to its wide base. Sarah screamed as she stretched painfully around the thick intruder. The pain was so bad she felt sure something had split open inside her. She could see Lady Miriam’s face in the mirror looking over her own shoulder. Her mistress had never looked so triumphant.

Lady Miriam reached up to tweak Sarah’s left nipple, pulling and rolling the hard nub in a way she knew would arouse her slave. After allowing Sarah a few seconds to adjust to having a cock in her ass for the first time, Lady Miriam began to move in and out a little at a time. Sarah could see it all in the mirror, her glistening pussy pink and exposed between her spread legs, the flush of arousal across the tops of her breasts. And, oh, the cock sliding in and out of her ass, dragging her tight ring of muscles down on each outward stroke and dimpling it in with each inward stroke.

Lady Miriam moved more and more vigorously, until she was pulling the cock almost all the way out of her slave’s ass and then slamming it back in again. The pain had long since faded, and Sarah was cooperating in her ravishment, fucking herself up and down on Lady’ Miriam’s big tool, enjoying the pressure and fullness. Her fingers dug hard into the armrests, and she gave a low moan every time her mistress speared into her.

She knew everyone in the room could tell she was enjoying this violation, but she couldn’t stop herself. Lady Miriam increased the pace of her thrusts, and her thighs tensed under Sarah. Sarah ground herself hard on the cock, rocking the base against her mistress’s clit. Lady Miriam came in her ass, biting down hard on Sarah’s shoulder to contain her cries. Her hips thrust brutally up into her slave’s flesh until the climax passed.

Sarah was still fucking up and down on the hard shaft. Lady Miriam stroked Sarah’s hard clit firmly between her fingers. Once, twice, and Sarah was coming, shaking and moaning. The pressure in her ass held her open even as her muscles tried futilely to close, and it prolonged her orgasm for unbearable minutes. As soon as her orgasm started to ebb, Lady Miriam milked another one out of her clit. Sarah came and came until she begged to be allowed to rest, and still her mistress made her come one more time.

Sarah was exhausted by the time she was lifted off her mistress’s cock and laid on the floor.

“That was a beautiful display,” one of the female guests said. Sarah didn’t she who it was; her eyes were closed, and it seemed she might never catch her breath.

“Thank you,” said Lady Miriam.

“You really ought to bring her to my little party week after next. Between her and my Ruth, we could have quite a lot of fun.”

“What an excellent idea,” Lady Miriam said. “In the meantime, though, anyone who wants to fuck this slave tonight can do whatever they want with her. She won’t come unless I’m touching her, but I think she’s had enough of that for one night, don’t you?”

Sarah groaned weakly as she was picked up and transfixed with a cock in her cunt. When another cock pushed itself into her tenderized ass, she nearly passed out. It was a long, long night.

Hot water rains down on me from the shower head. I quickly shampoo and rinse and work a thick conditioner through my waist length dark auburn hair. Clipping the slippery mass on top of my head, I notice movement outside the open bathroom door. Through the crack between the glass shower doors I see the figure of a very large man. A thrilled shiver runs down my spine. I’ve been dropping hints since he moved in down the block but I didn’t expect him to just walk in like this. Liking the idea that he is watching me, thinking I am unaware, I decide to put on a little show. I slather my body with a creamy scented body wash, making sure to linger on my large breasts. I moan softly when my fingers slide against my tingling nipples. I shave my legs, underarms, and my pussy. I rinse the cream off and stroke the wet folds wringing another small moan from my throat, knowing that he’s watching me. I unclip my hair and start to rinse the conditioner from my coppery strands. When the water runs clear, I turn off the tap and squeeze the water from my hair. I make sure not to let him know I have seen him and when I open the shower door and grab a big fluffy towel he sinks further back into the shadows in the hallway.

I dry my body and gently squeeze the excess water from my hair, again clipping it up on top of my head. Thin tendrils curl damply around my face. I smooth scented lotion all over my body making sure to lean over and give him a good view of my pink pussy. I stand up and quickly apply a small amount of makeup, just liner and shadow in coppery browns to make the green of my eyes sparkle and a little mascara and clear lip balm. He is still watching me and I wonder when he will make his move. I hang the towel to dry and step out into the hallway not surprised that I don’t find him waiting for me there. Curious to see how far he will take this, I step into my bedroom and pull a black lacy bra and matching panties from the dresser. Putting them on, I slip on a pair of impossibly high black leather stilettos. I can see a shadow lurking just outside in the hall. I unclip my hair and shake it loose into damp waves and curls, flipping my head upside down to fluff and separate the curls. My curvy ass is pointed directly at the door to give the best possible view and when I stand up I squeal in false surprise to find myself drug roughly up against a hard male body.

I struggle a little just to keep up the charade, twisting around to face him. Strong hands grip my upper arms while my much smaller ones press against his thickly muscled chest. The soft cotton of his tee shirt stretches tightly around biceps like tree trunks and tucks into the narrow waist of a pair of well fitted dark denim jeans. He smells so good I want to melt into his body but I hold back. I want to follow his lead. He quickly shoves me up against the wall proving that my instincts to be submissive are correct and his aggression is really turning me on. He drags my hands up above my head and captures both of my wrists in a steely grip while staring hotly into my eyes. I open my mouth to speak, to protest, something, and his lips come down on mine with punishing force. I struggle a little but only enough to press my tingling breasts more tightly against his chest while his free hand slides down my body and grips my ass, pulling me against the obvious bulge in his jeans. I whimper a little and start to kiss him back tentatively, meeting his questing tongue with my own.

My compliance seems to turn him on and he growls against my mouth, using his big body to make his strength and control very clear. His free hand strokes up and down my body claiming every inch of me as his. He tilts his head back for a moment, meeting my eyes with his. His hand relaxes slightly on my wrists and I take the opportunity to free them only to slip them around the back of his neck and pull him back down to me for a kiss so electric it almost feels like my hair is standing on end. I slide my hands over his shoulders and down his chest and belly to tug the tee shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. He takes the hint and quickly peels it off over his head. My mouth waters at the sight of the curves and bulges of his torso. I kiss a path down his chest while slowly sinking to my knees. I caress his thick erection through confining denim, kissing my way up and down the length. I can feel the heat radiating from his body. I look up at him with liquid green eyes and when he gently brushes my long hair back from my face it is at direct odds with the dangerous image he presents.

He steps back just a bit and reaches for the button on his jeans. I am already wet and the anticipation has me squirming. The zipper comes down and I can see that He’s not wearing anything else. When the jeans sag down to his knees his enormous erection springs free and I whimper a little. It is hugely thick and throbbing visibly, a pearl of fluid appearing on the tip has me licking my plump pink lips. I decide to continue with my submissive posture and deliberately clasp my hands behind my back. I lean forward and kiss his upper thigh, trailing my tongue closer and closer to his groin. He gently cups the back of my head guiding my tongue to his testicles. His other hand presses his dick up against his belly so he can watch me lick and gently suck the tender skin. I linger there for several minutes before looking up to catch his eyes, making sure he watches me lick up the underside of his cock. He releases it and tangles his big fingers in my coppery curls while I run my tongue around the head, tasting the precum collecting there. I lick my lips, making them slippery and he slowly thrusts forward, sinking deep into my eager mouth. I can feel him bumping against the entrance to my throat and I’ve only taken half of him! I make a hungry sound low in my throat and push forward slowly swallowing him deeper until my nose brushes the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He thrusts slowly but firmly in and out of my throat, pulling back only long enough to allow me to breath. My tongue swirls crazily, wanting to feel and taste every throbbing inch of him.

Suddenly he pulls back and lifts me to my feet, kissing me gently. He quickly strips off the jeans, socks, and shoes, in what seems like one single motion. I stand there quietly, waiting for him to make the next move. Just watching the play of muscle under his skin and the feral grace of his large body makes me intensely excited. He moves toward the bed, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, I do the same, sliding the straps of my bra down over my shoulders. I stop just within arm’s reach of him and unclasp the bra, letting it fall to the floor. His low growl thrills me and I step past him to climb onto the bed on hands and knees. Thinking he will follow me onto the bed I begin to turn only to feel strong hands grip my hips to hold me in place. He strips the panties down my thighs and I lift my knees so he can whisk them completely off. Strong fingers caress the rounded cheeks of my ass, stroking and kneading them before sliding down to pull my thighs far apart. I lean forward, letting my upper body rest on the bed. Callused hands travel over my creamy pale skin in firm strokes, making it clear who is in control and that thrills me even more. I am so open and exposed in this position.

Finally he reaches the spot I have been desperate to feel his touch. He parts my folds and finds the hard little bud of my clit first with his finger and then with his tongue. I moan softly, the sensations both gentle and intense. I can’t believe how close I am to an orgasm and he has barely touched me. He continues to attack my clit with furious strokes of his tongue, sliding first one thick finger and then two into my dripping wet opening. After a moment he changes the angle of his thrusts pressing firmly against my g-spot with every stroke. Not every guy knows that trick and that’s a shame because just a few strokes later I cum hard; hot fluid wetting my inner thighs. The pleasure is so intense that my whole body shudders with every gentle lap of his tongue against my clit. Aftershocks are still wracking my body when he climbs onto the bed, pulling me down onto my back to lie beside him.

His scorching kiss makes me shiver and I can taste myself on his lips. My slender fingers stroke his shoulders and I drop kisses on his cheeks and chin and down the thick column of his throat. I feel him turn my hips toward him and lift my leg high up over his rib cage. He guides the broad mushroom shaped head of his erection to my pussy, slowly entering me. I bite down gently on the corded muscle between his neck and shoulder as he fills me; so thick and so deep. Our bodies press tightly against each other and our mouths fuse together as if to share souls.

I squeal softly when he grips my hips roughly and pulls me upright on top of him. I rise up to my knees and ride up and down grinding my clit hard against his pubic bone. His large hands slide up my ribs to my big breasts and tight tingling nipples. He guides one to his lips, kissing it gently and licking the hard peaked tip before sucking it hard into his mouth. My hips buck wildly as my climax approaches and my moans rise in pitch along with the intensity of the pleasure until I shatter on a silent scream with my head thrown back and my back arched. He grips my hips hard and thrusts up into me roughly, my internal muscles clenching tightly, rippling up and down his shaft.

Finally my body quiets and he gently rolls with me, again pressing me into the mattress on my back. He kisses me softly and pulls out of my body. I know he hasn’t cum yet and I wonder what he is doing but my questions are soon answered when he presses his hard cock, still wet from my pussy, against my tiny asshole. I pull his lips down to mine and raise my thighs high up on his torso to give him easier access to my ass. He is so thick that I wonder if I will be able to accept him.

He pushes harder and the muscular ring of my anus slowly opens to allow him inside. I shudder and pant, and finally feel his pubic bone come to rest against my pussy. My hands grip his massive shoulders and I whimper softly when he starts moving slowly, long strokes deep into my unbelievably tightly stretched ass. It feels so good. I move with him pressing up onto his impaling member, clinging to his shoulders. He growls against my neck and suddenly I find wrists pinned to the mattress on either side of my head. He stares into my eyes, letting me know who is in charge even as his thrusts become faster and rougher. With every demanding thrust, he grinds hard against my pussy, against my throbbing clit.

He can tell I’m very close to cumming again so he moves even faster, his whispers telling me to let go, to cum on his cock, to cum for him. His words set off the fireworks and my cries ring off the walls as I climax, so wet, my back arching and my vision going gray at the edges. I shudder uncontrollably and every hard deep stroke draws another gush of hot fluid from my dripping pussy. Finally I feel him tense above me and with a low groan He fills my ass with thick hot jets of cum.

Our bodies slow and eventually come to a stop, still joined together. He rolls to his side, pulling me close, sliding out of my ass but remaining pressed close against me. His arms wrap around me tightly and I giggle to myself when I realize that he is dozing. Suddenly feeling absolutely exhausted myself; I cuddle up even closer to his warm chest and flip the sheet over us. I’m not sure where this will go but at the moment I am feeling extremely relaxed and pleasantly drained.

It started out as another dull evening on an out of town business trip. Returning to my hotel after a busy work day, I wandered into the lounge to check the action. Sitting at the bar sipping my beer, I notice a very attractive woman as she joins a group seated at a table. The guy seated beside me catches me starring and comments on how he would enjoy being her slave for the evening. His comment surprises me since like me, he appears to be a horny business man on an overnight trip.

His name in Terrence, Terry for short, and he is a computer technician working on a project that requires him to stay here for a few days. As our conversation progresses, I learn that he is married and has fantasies about being dominated by women. Unfortunately his wife is also submissive and has no interest in that role. He soon shares another fantasy about his wife being controlled and fucked by a guy a like me while he watches.

My interest is perked when he hands me a photo of her. It shows a very attractive blonde woman with blue eyes in her early 30′s. I think if her body is as good as her face she would be a hot little bitch to play with. I tell him that I am a Dom and given the right opportunity I would consider helping him achieve his fantasy.

As our conversation progresses, I soon learn that I will be in Terry’s home city on business in a few weeks. This results in us putting a date on our calendars for this special event. He is told that he and his wife will both follow my direction without question. We go over my simple rules for the session, no one gets injured, everything is consensual, confidential and anyone can stop or quit at anytime. With that settled we turn back to discussing the women in the room. Terry sure has a different idea about how to use them than I do.


On the evening of the big event Terry and his wife are already at the restaurant when I arrive with my bag of toys. As instructed they are seated opposite each other in a booth at the back of the room. As I step up to the booth, Terry introduced me to his wife, Heather.

She is everything I expected after looking at her photo. She is wearing a dark blue dress with short sleeves and a deep neckline that sets off her light skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. I only get a glimpse of her legs which are covered by the tablecloth. I slide into the booth to sit next to her so she is on my left.

“It is very nice to meet you Heather. You are a very beautiful woman. Terry must be very proud of you. I hope you are as excited about this evening as I am. It should be lots of fun.”

Heather gives me a timid look and replies, “I am really nervous about this. Terry has given me some idea of what will be expected of me, but I have real trepidations about what I will be required to do.”

The waitress comes by with menus and I order wine for the table. I smile at Terry, who is very quiet and looks uncomfortable sitting across from us as we look at the menus. Soon the wine is delivered to our table and our dinner orders taken.

Pouring the wine for everyone I say, “Before we toast, Heather, you must do something to show your willingness to obey me for the rest of the evening. Heather and Terry, both of you must accept the tasks I give you without question. Do you agree?”

Both nod at me.

“Heather, remove your panties and hand them to Terry. Then I want your skirt up behind you so your bare ass touching the seat cushion.”

She blushes and gives me a startled look but doesn’t move. The expression on Terry’s face is priceless.

I firmly tell her, “Don’t make me wait. Do it now!”

She looks anxiously around the room to see if anyone is watching. Then with the blush showing on her light skin, she reaches under her skirt and slides her panties off. Pulling them off over her blue heels, she hands them to Terry. He rolls them up and puts them in his pocket. Heather pulls the back of her skirt out from under her as instructed. As I raise my glass to toast the fun evening ahead I put my hand on her thigh.

As the waitress is returning with our meals, I slip my hand under Heathers skirt and slide it up to her womanhood. Even though my hand is covered by the tablecloth and her skirt, she gasps when I touch her mound. Smiling at the waitress as she places our dinners on the table, I slip my fingers between Heather’s neither lips to rub her clit. This causes her to breathe in short gasps. I am enjoying Heather’s torment as I continue to tease her.

Looking at my companions I bid them to enjoy their meals. Picking up my fork with my right hand, I begin to eat while my left hand keeps Heather entertained. Terry is giving Heather a strange look trying to figure out what is going on as she moans and tries to eat. I explain to him that my fingers are playing with her pussy to warm her up for the evening’s festivities. At the same time, I slip two fingers inside her wet cunt. When I think she is close to climaxing, I withdraw and hold my fingers in front of her mouth to clean. Again she anxiously looks around the room before quickly licking off her juices.

Reaching into my toy bag, I pull out a vibrator egg and show it to Heather and Terry. She has an alarmed look as I reach down under the table cloth and begin inserting it. Using my extended fingers I push it deeply into her canal. Smiling at her as I smooth her skirt down over her lap, I use the remote to turn the egg on low vibe. There is an immediate reaction as she takes a deep breath and her eyes open wide. I leave her alone to eat with the vibe on low. She has a glassy eyed look, as she struggles against the sensations pleasuring her and only picks at her food.

All through dessert and coffee, I keep Heather in an aroused state with the vibe and periodic fingering of her clit. When it is time to leave she has a glassy eyed stare and is covered with sheen of perspiration. I tell Terry to give me his car keys and pay the check. Sliding out of the booth, I offer Heather my hand to assist her.

“Heather, you will take my arm and walk out to the car with me. You will keep the egg inside you while walking to the car. If you lose it, I will make a scene right here to humiliate you. Remember you live in this place and I don’t.”

Heather slides out of the booth and takes my arm. We walk slowly toward the front door. She is taking very short steps trying to keep her thighs pressed together. We make a nice looking couple and several people look at us as we walk through the restaurant. If they only knew her situation with me.

I deliberately stop at the hostess station and make small talk with the young woman on duty. Reaching into my pocket, I press the remote button to turn the egg on high vibe. Immediately Heather gasps as her trembling hand grips my arm. I prolong the conversation to keep Heather squirming from the stimulation.

Saying good bye to the hostess and turning off the egg, I lead Heather out into the parking lot. As instructed their car is parked in secluded spot in the back of the lot. When we reach the car, I leave Heather standing on the passenger side next to a brick wall while I unlock the car and open the trunk.

Turning to Heather is say, “It is time to really test you obedience to me. Take off your dress and hand it to me.”

She gives me a frightened look and quickly turns to see if there is anyone else in the parking lot. After a brief pause she reaches to her back and pulls the zipper down. The dress drops to her ankles. She steps out of it and hands it to me. She is a splendid sight standing there naked except for her bra and heels.

Placing her dress in the trunk, I tell her that I want her bra in the trunk too. Without hesitation this time, she slips her arms out of the straps, spins it around, unsnaps the clasp and throws it to me. Before closing the trunk lid I take a moment to enjoy her perky breasts with pink nipples. She is standing there naked in her blue heels.

Turning the egg vibe on high I step up and take her in my arms. Her body trembles against me as she responds to the vibes. I kiss her while running my hands over the naked skin of her back and buttocks. Our tongues play as she kisses me back. I can feel her passion building as she responds softly to my kisses and caressing.

Terry is approaching from the restaurant. I spin Heather around so her back is pressed against me. Standing this way we both can see Terry walking toward us. He can also see us. Holding her with one hand on her breast my fingers play with her nipple. My other hand is on her pussy with a finger stroking her clit. My lips are kissing her neck and ears. She begins to moan and pant as her orgasm rises.

Blowing softly in her ear, I tell her, “Cum for me little fuck toy. Show your master how you can climax for him.”

Suddenly she loses control as wave of her orgasm hit her nerve endings. She makes all kinds of animal sounds as she forces herself not to scream. Her body struggles against me as I keep stimulating her. I have to hold her tight to keep her from collapsing. Terry standing on the other side of the car is awestruck by watching his naked wife climax under the control of another man.

Once the vibe is turned off and her breathing returns to normal, I open the door so she can get in the back seat. I slide in next to her. Terry gets in the driver’s seat and I hand him the keys.

“Your wife is one hot piece of fuck meat, Terry. Her pussy is just the way I like it, shaved smooth. I can’t wait until we get to your house. Every one of her holes is going to get used tonight. Maybe some of them may get used more than once. Now let’s go. I can’t wait to see what perverted things she will do for me.”

Once on the road, I tell Heather to spread her legs and play with her clit. Leaning over I kiss her with lots of tongue and fondle her nice pink nipples. Turning on the egg to high vibe makes her jerk against me. After a while I move my lips to her tit to suck and lick. She keeps masturbating for the entire ride. This goes on until we pull into the attached garage on their home. Heather has had several orgasms during the trip and looks well used.

Once we are all standing in the garage, she is allowed to remove the egg vibe while Terry and I watch. We then assist her into the house to sit in a kitchen chair. Terry fetches a large glass of water for her and gets me a beer. We sit around the table drinking and chatting while Heather recovers.

When it is time to continue, I stand and tell Heather to undress me. It is very exciting to be undressed by a beautiful naked woman wearing only heels. She unbuttons my shirt and hangs it on the back of a chair. Next she unbuckles my belt, opens my fly and eases my slacks to the floor. She pulls off my shoes and socks leaving me standing there in my tented briefs.

Terry, still fully clothed, stares at us in disbelief.

Pulling Heather to me, I embrace her tightly and kiss her passionately. Her naked breasts press into my chest. My hand softly rubs her naked back and ass.

Breaking the kiss, I tell her, “Show me what a wanton whore you are. Suck my cock in front of your wimpy husband.”

She is in the zone now and drops to her knees in front of me. I feel the cooler air hit my throbbing cock as she pulls down my briefs. Soon my manhood is engulfed in the warmth of her mouth. Her tongue does wonders to the head I am thinking with now. Her hand massages my balls as her mouth drives me wild. Getting close to the edge, I tell her to stop and take me to their bedroom.

Turning to Terry, “Your slut wife really knows how to give good head. You should be proud of her. Bring your chair and follow us so you can watch me fuck your whore wife silly.”

We rush into the large bedroom with a king size bed. Terry follows a little slower with his chair.

Shoving Heather onto the bed so she is laying on her back, I grab her ankles and spread her legs wide. Positioning my eight inch hard cock at the entrance to her sopping pussy, I slam it home with one hard thrust. Her gasp and surprised look tell me that I am giving her more than she usually gets from Terry. Slowly I begin to pump in and out of her hot juicy cunt. Even after having multiple orgasms this evening, she begins to respond to plowed by my rod.

The tempo of my pumping into Heather speeds up as tingling sensations begin to radiate through me. I bring her legs together I hold them to my chest with one arm. This intensifies my stimulation as her pussy clamps on my cock. My free hand plays with her nipple.

We are both breathing hard and groaning as lust takes over our bodies. I feel my balls tighten in preparation for unloading. Then it hits me like an electric shock to my nerve endings as my cock pulses at the bottom of a stroke. I groan loudly and begin pumping my cum inside her tight cunt. Feeling my cum hit her cervix pushes her over the top. She begins to tremble as a massive orgasm rolls through her. Heather and I stay molded together for several minutes until, my cock begins to shrink.

Having almost forgotten that Terry is in the room watching us, I turn to him and say, “You must be really proud of your wife. Not only does she have a awesome figure, but her cunt is fantastic.

Get over here and give her a kiss to show her how much you appreciate what she is doing for you.”

Terry stands and walks to the bed. Leaning down he give his wife a timid kiss on the lips.

“Terry, that is no way to show your appreciation get between her legs and kiss her beautiful pussy. I left you a nice cream pie down there to enjoy while you pleasure her.”

Lying on the bed so my cock is close to Heather’s face, I say, “Heather, use your mouth and tongue to clean my cock and make me hard again for our next session.”

It doesn’t take me long to get hard again as Heather’s mouth swallows my cock. Terry, with his face pressing into her crotch, lapping up our combined juices is a turn on to watch. Soon Heather is responding to Terry’s stimulation and is ready for our next activity. I then tell Terry to stop and go back to his chair.

Stepping away from the bed, I grab a tube of lube out of my toy bag. I order Heather to go over to Terry and pull his cock out of his pants. Terry is not allowed to touch her. Heather is told to bend over at the waist and put her hands on Terry’s thighs. Stepping behind her I place the lube tube to her little rosebud anis entrance. Squeezing an ample amount of lube into her, I lube my hard cock too. I can tell Heather is hesitant about my preparation.

Leaning forward, I whisper in her ear, “You are to suck Terry’s cock while I fuck your ass. When he cums you will swallow it.”

She replies, “Oh no. I can’t do that. No one has ever done that to me there before. I think it is going to hurt so badly when you put it in.”

“Shut the fuck up you stupid bitch. I told you that all you holes were going to be used and this is going to happen. Start sucking on Terry before I have to punish you.”

She sobs as the head of my stiff dick presses against her little puckered opening of her upraised ass . Giving her two hard slaps on the buttocks as I push gets my cock head past her anal muscle. Her body tenses from the pain of my entrance. After waiting for her to adjust, I begin slowly working my hard rod into her tight canal. Reaching under, I begin to stoke her clit while inching into her. It doesn’t take long until I am balls deep in her ass. I remain still with my cock buried fully in her ass, while stoking her clit. Looking across her back at Terry, as she sucks his cock with me in her ass, I can see he is at the height of his fantasy.

Placing my hands on Heather’s hips, I begin to slowly withdraw and push back in. Nothing is tighter than a virgin ass grip on a hard cock. The sensations are indescribable. Keeping my finger moving on her clit, I start pumping faster. Heather has adjusted to my penetration and is beginning to enjoy the action. All three of us are panting as we as our rapidly approaching climaxes build.

Terry, having been the voyeur all evening, is the first one to cum. Heather makes sucking sounds as she swallows his load. Watching Terry’s face as he orgasms pushes me over the edge and I begin pumping my seed into Heather’s tight poop chute. This drives her into another body wracking climax. Three people in various stages of sexual euphoria come down slowly from an evening of sensual delights.

Telling Terry to remain in the chair, I take Heather into the bathroom to shower together. After all the stimulation we just wash each other. After hugs and kisses in the shower, she dries me off with a large bath town which she then wraps around herself. I get dressed and prepare to leave.

My taxi arrives. Terry and Heather, still wearing only the towel, walk me to the door. “You two really know how to entertain an out of town visitor. I had a great time and hope it brought your fantasies to life. I know we will want to do something like this again.”

Terry shakes my hand and says, “It was awesome man. Much more that I expected. You showed me some new techniques. I can’t wait till the next time Heather and I make love. Now I can fuck her in the ass.”

Heather drops her towel and throws her arms around my neck to kiss me while pressing her naked body against me. “I was scared at first, but you made it so exciting for me. I have never had so many wonderful orgasms in a row like that. You really know how to please a girl. Terry and I will have more enjoyable sex now thanks to you. I can hardly wait until the next time we get to do something like this with you.”

She kisses me again and I walk out to the taxi. The driver who witnessed the farewell scene in the open doorway, smiles at me and asks my destination.

I ponder future encounters with Heather and Terry on the ride back to my hotel. After my vigorous workout this evening, it is a good thing I didn’t schedule any morning appointments.

I’ve done a lot of naughty things, very naughty and the stories I have written and the characters I have created have all been based on those experiences. I’ve had loads of feedback with people asking if they’re true and if I’ve really done the things in my stories. And I have: I had a long and sexy thing going on with my History teacher at school, a mad passionate and slightly crazy thing going on with some housemates of mine, I really did get married in secret and I really did have an ongoing saga with a woman, despite not being a lesbian. Oh, and yes, that picture REALLY is of my tits.

However, all the stories are my experiences set against a fictional backdrop. Obviously Beth and Michelle ARE me, but I have never told a story from my point of view as me before. Until now.

This really happened to me, one night in 2004, when I was 20. I haven’t even changed my name or the name of my partner for the evening here. In case you’re wondering about my screen name- that’s because my History teacher used to call me Lola- as in Lolita- and I am English …. Hence the English bit! My real name is Susannah and the young man I met on the night I am about to describe really was called Will (or at least, that’s what he told me).

It was the sexiest, most wanton experience of my life, this night when I was 20, and I still regularly masturbate thinking about this.

I hadn’t long been moved into a new house, with new housemates and I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time. This was when wi-fi had just become the norm and everybody started getting laptops that were fitted with web-cams built in.

An ardent masturbator from a young age, as soon as I had a private computer and discovered internet porn I couldn’t get enough of it. At the time of the incident I am about to describe I hadn’t had sex in a few months and was wanking a lot. Because of the lack of sex I was also starting to get creative: buying more sex toys and trying out new things alone. One of my favourite things at that time was wanking with a banana, as something about the girth and texture reminded me of a real penis and it gave me very satisfying orgasms. Soon I stumbled upon websites with webcam-chat and under the guise of sexy-suze83 started talking to men online who would ask me to frig my little cunt for them on cam. Soon my banana escapades were becoming a nightly routine, and I would put on a show for whichever man I came across in a chat room.

The show would generally work the same way each time. The guy would be hard and wanking his cock on cam, and would ask to see my breasts. I would take my top off for him and play, slowly and sensually, with my prized F-cups for him. I quickly cottoned on to how aesthetically pleasing baby-oil was when smeared on my big titties and started to incorporate it into my routine. Once I’d done this for a few moments I would lean back, reposition the laptop and give whoever was watching a close-up view of my bald pussy as I teased, rubbed, penetrated and, at times, brutally fucked it to orgasm. All the time I would be watching his cock in the split screen as the random guy jerked himself to an abrupt and sticky cum. It always felt a bit grubby when it was over, but was always insanely sexy at the time.

However, soon this just wasn’t enough. I was hungry for real sex. I needed to feel a real cock in my hand and my mouth and my cunt and with some trepidation decided to log on to Gumtree, kind of like what Craigs List is used for now, to see if I could find someone to fuck that night.

At midnight I sat down at the computer. I had done all of my preparation before hand: shaved all of my important areas and waxed my cunt smooth. Applied a face of make-up as though I were going out for the night: foundation, blusher, liquid eyeliner, bright red lipstick. I put on my best frilly red underwear, stockings and suspenders and high heeled patent black shoes. I did my hair big and curly, the red ringlets tumbling onto my pale shoulders. And then I sat in front of my webcam and took a picture of myself sat down, from the waist up, pouting at the camera. I appraised the picture and decided to take another one, this time with me smiling so I looked slightly less miserable! The second was much better, my eyes were big and sexy, my lips were full and luscious and the swell of my breasts from the balcony bra hinted at what was within. I clicked into “Casual Encounters” and “Women Seeking Men” and typed:

2oyr old large breasted, red headed female seeks male, 20-40 for fun tonight. Come to my house and give me what I’ve been craving for weeks: cock, cum and orgasms galore. Answer before 1am for fun tonight- I anticipate at around 2am. Will only consider emails with pics. Richmond area.

I entered my email and clicked send. Within minutes my inbox was exploding with emails from would-be suiters. Long ones, short ones, ones with full body pictures and ones with just pictures of their cocks. I was amazed. I had never expected so many responses. Overwhelmed and with 10 new emails every time I refreshed my browser, I looked at the clock and decided to have a cut off of 12.30am. I would only consider emails sent before that time.

I began trawling through them, deleting any with no picture, or where the picture was just a grainy close-up of an erection. As 12.30 drew closer I had a short list of 7 possible men. I could feel my pussy growing wetter, and butterflies in my stomach as I considered whether or not I could really go through with this. I was excited, sexually and generally, and slightly scared. I had a bottle of JD on the side, with two glasses, and decided to have a glass to steady my nerves. I had the two glasses as I anticipated my date for the evening needing a drink too, but I couldn’t wait that long. With five minutes to go, I decided to take another picture, this time of my naked breasts, to send to the man I chose. Downing my drink and undoing my bra with unsteady hands, I gathered my large, firm breasts together, and pouting at the camera, took a snap for my as yet unknown fuck-buddy.

At 12.30 on the dot I refreshed the browser, deleted nine more cock shots and added one more possible to my shortlist, which now stood at eight. I poured another whiskey and began to look through them. I deleted two on the basis that they looked older than 40 and one because he had a weird tattoo on his belly. That left me with five to look through. Because I had to choose somehow I deleted all the blondes, as I have always tended to fancy darker-haired men. That left me with two serious contenders.

The first had written a little biography, his name was Will, he was 26 and he lived just up the road in Teddington. He said he wasn’t “a nutter” and was just up for some no-strings fun. His picture was a topless shot that showed a muscular young man with a dark, light beard and big blue eyes. The second called himself David, was a little older at 33 and said he was “close by”. His picture was a long shot, he was naked and well built with his large enough and erect penis in his hand. Whilst David looked the more sexual, I was leaning more towards Will who had a cheeky glint in his eye. I also liked that he hadn’t sent a picture that included his cock. I thought hard. I could see that David had a nice sized penis, and potentially Will could have a three inch disappointment, but my mind was made up. It was Will I wanted tonight.

I clicked reply, attached the jpeg of my naked breasts and wrote

“You’re on Will, when can you be here? Suze x”

I drummed my fingers impatiently on the desk in front of me. I refreshed the page. I refreshed it again. Nothing. Minutes passed. I refilled my glass of JD. I refreshed the page. There was a reply.

“Depends where there is. But if you’re in Richmond, 20mins max. Lovely tits btw. Will x”

I hit reply and immediately typed back:

“28 Orpington Road. Next to The Albert pub. Know it? S x”

A reply bounced back almost immediately:

“Know it well. There ASAP. W x”

I waited in eager anticipation. I was nervous and a little bit of me was scared, although I knew that I was in a house full of people, even if they were sleeping, and that one scream and they would all be awake. My bedroom was behind the kitchen, which was next to the front door. The next bedroom was close enough that a scream would wake them but, I was certain, not close enough that even noisy sex would. I stood up and checked the bowl on the desk again for condoms. Plenty. I refilled my glass and drank. My cunt was wet in anticipation and my nipples on my still naked chest were hard. I put my bra back on, pulled on my silky night-robe and stepped out into the kitchen, where I could keep an eye out. I paced the kitchen, nervously, knowing that he would be here any moment. I had never been so sexually excited or exhilarated in my whole life. My heels clattered on the tiled floor and I looked at the clock. Ten minutes had passed. I went back into my room and put on a CD. Some light R n B to set the mood.

As I stepped back out into the hall, I saw a shadowy tall figure in the frosted glass of the door. My heart leapt into my throat. I stepped forward and opened the latch. Before me stood a tall, dark man who looked exactly as his photograph. He was broad and wearing a leather jacket, teeshirt and jeans. He looked me up and down.

“Suze I presume?” He asked. His voice was quite posh and gravelly. I nodded.

“Will?” He didn’t answer, instead stepped in and closed the door, pushing me against the wall and kissing me hard and deeply, whilst reaching down between my legs. I loved the lack of preamble and kissed him back, groping at his arse. I broke away from the kiss. “Come to my room.” I breathed, walking up the dimly lit hall.

As we entered the small room, I closed the door behind us and locked it with the small, sliding bolt lock. I pulled off my robe and laid down on the bed, where Will wasted no time in throwing off his jacket and laying down next to me. He pulled my left breast from its cup and sucked the nipple. I groaned and unhooked my bra, freeing my breasts. He continued sucking and groped the other tit roughly.

“These are fucking huge.” He said, mauling at them. He pulled off his teeshirt and I fumbled with the button fly of his jeans. He was hard through the thick fabric and I could tell already that I hadn’t made a mistake in choosing him as my stud for the evening. He wasn’t wearing boxers underneath his jeans and so as soon as I got to grips with the fly his hard cock sprang out, a thick and substantial 7 or 8 inches that I quickly popped into my mouth. He groaned, grabbing at my big hair and I bobbed my head up and down on his meat, wet suction sounds filling my ears as I did so. I groped for his balls under my chin and tugged on them. “You hot little whore.” He moaned in his cut-glass accent. I continued with my exertions for a few moments before he pulled away from my mouth and pulled me up by my shoulders. Wordlessly he pushed me against and then up onto my desk, where he pulled off my shoes and then ordered me to remove my knickers. He knelt between my legs and gently parted the bald flesh. I moaned softly. He slowly pushed a thick finger into me, and then another.

“Fuck yeah.” I groaned.

“You’re a tight little bitch.” He growled. His thumb found my clit and rubbed it. Sparks flew through my tight little snatch. He flicked out his tongue and licked from the bottom of my slit to my hot little bud. I cried out and held his head in my hands, leaning against the wall. He began licking and sucking at my cunt in earnest, as I writhed against his face. He used his fingers to penetrate me and soon I was careering head-first towards my first orgasm of the evening. I came, crying out and grabbing fist fulls of his abundant, dark hair in my hands.

“You fucking cunt.” I cried. “Fucking lick my fucking pussy.” He didn’t stop and fucked his fingers in and out of my snatch faster. “I’m going to cum!” I moaned. “Fucking cum all over your face!” And then I did, covering his chin and tongue with my thin, creamy juice. I collapsed back on the desk, but there was no time for rest. Will stood up and spying the condoms on the desk reached for one and opened the packet.

“Put this on me.” He demanded. I took the sheath from him and knelt down. Placing the still rolled up condom in my mouth, I expertly used my tongue and lips to roll it down his thick shaft. He groaned and pumped his cock in and out of my mouth a couple of times for good measure. “Now get on the desk on your back.” I stood and laid down, arranging myself, legs spread wide. He grabbed my ankles and pulled them apart, as far as they would go. I watched as he lined his rubber-sheathed member up to my wet and willing hole, and then gasped as he pushed forward, filling me with his meat.

I watched, in lust-crazed abandon as this strangers muscles flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed as he thrusted in and out of me. His eyes were fixated on my breasts as they bounced, full and perky on my chest, in rhythm with his movements.

“Your cock is so big!” I squealed, as my pussy pulled tigher and tighter around him, every moment drawing my closer to orgasm.

“So are your fucking tits.” He groaned, upping his pace. I frigged at my clit with my right hand and he pulled my legs even further apart. “You’re a fucking slut.” He spat, his eyes never leaving my tits. “You fuck like a whore.” My hand was a blur on my clit. “You should charge, you fucking slut, I know I’d fucking pay.” With that I came again, my muscles spasming in my cunt and my clit exploding underneath my hand. I cried out.

As I finished cumming he pulled his cock out and I stood up, drunk with lust and high from the orgasm. He pulled me towards him and kissed me again, rougher than in the hall, biting my lower lip as he withdrew. I fisted his cock and he pushed me towards the wall where there was a full length mirror.

“Put your hands flat against that.” He said. I turned to face and the mirror and did, opening my legs and sticking my arse out. He stood behind me and kissed and nipped at my shoulders with his teeth. “Watch yourself in the mirror, slut.” He moaned into my flesh. “Fucking watch your tits bounce and your cunt gape.” He pulled my hair and gathered it into a pony tail which he used as reigns to keep me in place. He pushed his cock back into me and I moaned with pleasure. I did as he had told me and watched my tits bouncing in the glass. “You fucking love this, don’t you, slut?” He moaned into my ear. “I bet you do this all the time, getting strangers to come in here and use your pussy.” I groaned, neither a yes or a no. “I bet they come here and they do you every fucking which way.” He pounded me harder and I yelled, close to cumming again. “Do you take it up the arse, whore?” I nodded, pulling against his grip on my hair. He laughed. “Of course you do.” He rubbed my clit with his free hand. “You take it up the arse, and in the cunt and down your pretty little throat.” I knew I would cum any second now. “And you cum like a fucking train because you know what a little slut you are.” I focused on the image before me, my face twisted in lust and pleasure, this stranger behind and inside me, nothing between us but the thin latex of the condom. I screamed and he slapped his hand over my mouth. “Cum for me, bitch.” He whispered.

After that we fucked in every conceivable position for another half an hour, his staying power was incredible. I straddled him on the floor, kissing him deeply as he groped my breasts and then I turned around riding him reverse-cowgirl as I frigged my own clit and he used a vibrating cock ring that I kept under the bed on my arsehole. He bent me over the desk and fucked me against it, and I sat on his cock as he sat on my office chair.

After more orgasms than I could count, and as the clock approached 3am, I groped under the bed for the lube that I kept in the box with my sex toys.

“I want you in my arse.” I gasped, breathless and covered in sweat. I peeled off the condom and sucked his cock into my hungry throat, unwrapping another one as I did so. This one was ribbed and I knew it would feel better in my tight little arsehole. I primed myself with lube and he smeared sticky KY on his rubber-clad cock. I laid on my back and pulled my knees back so that they were around my ears. My arse gaped, open wide for him. “I want to see you while you do it.” I said. He leaned forwards and carefully, inch by uncomfortable inch he fed his throbbing penis into my hungry hole. I moaned and groaned, in pain as well as pleasure, as he performed the always seemingly impossible trick of getting a whole cock into my tight, resisting little bottom. When I felt his balls hit the cheeks of my bum, I knew he was all the way in. I moaned with lust. He groaned too, and I knew that it was so tight in there that he was on the verge of losing his load immediately. Slowly he began to saw in and out of me, the ribs of the condom making me squeal in slutty delight. As he upped his pace and began to fuck my arse, I used my fingers and the vibrating cock ring from earlier to stimulate my worn out vagina. Will rocked and bucked in and out of me and I fingered and rubbed my cunt as he did so. Soon he was fucking me hard and fast and I knew he would cum sooner rather than later. I stimulated my clit and concentrated on the sensations in my anus as they built to create an intensity that I knew would result in the biggest orgasm of the night. I squealed and moaned and Will called me filthy names and groped my breasts as I did so. As he told me again how fucking tight my arse was and how fucking hot I looked covered in sweat and pre-cum, my pussy and arse exploded and I had the hugest orgasm of my life. My holes spasmed and my legs trembled as the orgasm took me over. I screamed and shook and as I came down from the heavenly feelings in my cunt and arse I felt Will’s cock expand inside the latex, inside my anus. He pulled his penis out of me and roughly pulled me forwards. In one swift movement he pulled my head forward and whipped the condom from his member. A jet of molten cock-cream hit my nose and then another stream of cum hit my scarlet lips. He wanked the base of his cock and plastered my face in the contents of his sack. After five or six wanks of his tool my face was covered in creamy jizz, and still it kept coming, plastering my hair and neck, dripping down onto my sweaty tits.

Laying in the dim light of the room, both breathless. We laughed. Me, covered in the cum of a stranger and he collapsed next to me. It was just beginning to get light and the birds were beginning to sing. I wiped the cum from my face with a pillow case next to my head and smiled. Will sat up.

“Well Suze,” he began, “it was lovely meeting you, but I’m rather afraid I have to be up for work in two hours.” He stood and began putting his clothes back on. “Not quite sure how I’m going to get through the day.” I smiled.

“Red Bull?” He laughed, buttoning his jeans and pulling on his teeshirt. I pulled on my robe and sat on the edge of the bed. He bent down and kissed the top of my head.

“That was amazing.” He whispered, kindly, and then cupping my chin and pulling my face up to look at his he kissed my lips gently and sensually. “Let’s do it again, some time.” And with that he picked up his jacket and left.

I watched the door shut and then, soon afterwards, the front door closed softly behind him. I laid back on the bed, dazed. I didn’t know his surname and only had a hotmail address as a contact. That had truly been the maddest, sexiest night of my life.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I suggest reading Part One.


“We have to go to Parent’s Weekend to see Rosie,” Monica told me.

Her tone had the same awkward, forced affectation all our conversations had held for the past months. After the event with Desiree we didn’t speak, expressing our mutual fear and shame with our silence. We conversed politely in front of our daughter, and in social situations, but in private we awkwardly avoided each other. When summer ended Rosie had gone back to school for her senior year and we settled into an edgy remoteness, talking only of household needs as though we were roommates instead of the loving spouses we once were.

I don’t know what she thought of the events with Desiree, or how she felt; we had never discussed it. For the first few days after that evil, manipulative bitch left our house we hid from each other. As days passed we inevitably saw each other, passed terse words, and eventually settled into this silent agreement that the subject would not be raised, and that we would only talk to each other in public, in front of friends and family, pretending that nothing had happened, nothing had changed. But in private everything had changed. I had no idea who Monica was anymore, having seen a side of her that she had never shown before; a debased, disgusting willing participant in the most frightening sexual event of my history. She scared me, and the conditions that I participated under scared and shamed me.

Truth be told, I was just as frightened by my willingness to participate. Desiree had blackmailed me, sure, but I had gotten excited, and enjoyed the sex. Seeing my wife acting so sexually had aroused me, and I was ashamed of my participation. And I had too easily surrendered to the idea of fucking a young college girl. I tried unsuccessfully to convince myself that I had been forced to participate, but I knew in my heart that I enjoyed it, and the desire scared the hell out of me.

“Why?” I asked. “We haven’t gone in two years. We went her first year of school; that’s what parents do.” I avoided her eyes as I spoke. I still couldn’t look at her without seeing Desiree’s Pet, the woman who willingly choked on my cock, and licked my cum from her Mistress’s young pussy.

“I already told her we’d go,” she replied meekly.

“You told Rosie we’d go?” I snapped angrily. “Without discussing it with me first?” We were eating dinner, and I slammed my fork down. “What the hell, Monica?” I looked at her, feeling the anger on my face, and she winced as she saw my expression. “Why would you do that without asking me?”

“She — she told me to…” she trailed off.

“Rosie told you to come up?”

Monica lowered her head, her hands in her lap. I couldn’t see her face, but when I opened my mouth to keep yelling I saw her shoulders trembling, and my anger softened a little. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “My — my — my Mistress…”

“Your WHAT!?!” I bellowed.

She raised her head then, looked at me, and steeled her nerve. “My Mistress told me to tell Rosie we were coming up. So I did.” As much as she had screwed her courage to say the words, her lip trembled, and her hands came to the table, shredding her napkin. “I’m sorry, Roy. She called. She told me we have to come to see her, and to tell Rosie we were coming.”

“Fuck!” I screamed, and slammed my fork down on the table.

“I couldn’t say no,” she continued, pleading for my understanding. “I couldn’t. I tried, but she, she” she paused, took a breath. A tear trickled down her cheek, and I remembered her, crying as she licked Desiree’s shaved pussy. “She Ordered me.” I could hear the importance the words held for her as she said it.

“God damn it, Monica!” I blasted as I stood and knocked my chair over. I felt the fear, then; the terror of the young girl’s power over us, the seductive and manipulative control she wielded. She had seen something in my wife that I had never known; a desire to be controlled and commanded, a willingness to do unspeakably debasing sexual things, and she’d used it, and blackmailed me into participating, seducing and threatening me into the hottest and most frightening sex I’d ever had. She had left our lives a shambles, and now she was back. In a phone call she had turned my wife against me.

We talked late into the night; me berating her for her weakness, she alternately defending and apologizing for the same. She begged me to go along, telling me she needed to see her, but I insisted we resist, that we defy her, break ourselves free. In the end I turned her to my side. We would go, we would see our daughter, and we would stand up to this seductress Desiree. If need be we would confess to Rosie what had happened, and take her friend’s power over us away. Time and distance from the event that afternoon had given me courage, fired by my anger, but I needed Monica with me, standing strong against a seemingly harmless college student. In the end I got her commitment that she could resist, WOULD resist, and would stand with me.

And so a few months later we found ourselves pulling into a hotel parking lot near the college and unloading our bags for the weekend. Monica moved in silent trepidation, while I had boundless nervous energy. We had spoken sparingly on the ride up; the only words passed between us were to bolster our resolve to end this debacle. We had arrived a day early, not telling Rosie, so that we could confront Desiree and lay down the law. We settled into the room and after arranging our clothes, I volunteered to go get us some takeout while she cleaned up after the trip.

I was back in under an hour to find the hotel room empty. Monica’s cell phone lay on the center of the still-made bed, blinking a new text message. I flipped it open to see:


In a panic, I dropped the phone. My chest tightened and I began gasping for breath. Had she kidnapped Monica? I immediately thought of calling the police, but when I considered what I would say to them, I discarded the idea. “Officer, this girl, she kidnapped my wife,” I would tell them, “to force her to have kinky sex.” They would ask how I knew that, and even if I lied, I would have to admit what had happened at our house, even if I said that she blackmailed us both. How, they would ask. I would have to tell them something. And then when they found her, Desiree would tell her side, how my wife went to her willingly. Could I count on Monica to stand with me, to swear to my lies? And how would I explain that the girl’s phone number was in my wife’s cell listed as ‘mistress’? There would be public announcement, a scandal. I was willing to tell Rosie what had happened, but I didn’t want our family publicly humiliated.

I frantically tossed the options back and forth in my head for almost another hour. Finally, feeling trapped and defeated, at least for the moment, I picked up the cell and dialed.

“Hello, Roy. It’s nice to hear from you.” Her voice dripped with antagonism.

“Where is she!” I barked. “What have you done with Monica?”

“Relax, baby, she’s fine. She’s with my friends.” I wondered what kind of friends this girl had, then remembered that our daughter was friends with her. “Do you want to see her? Come and see me, we have some things to discuss.”

“You release her right now, or-”

“Or what, Roy? Or you’ll tell your daughter about what I’ve done with you and my little pet?” There was silence as I wondered how she knew, then felt crushed as she continued. “Do you think my pet hasn’t told me your plans?” I heard her snicker derisively. “Come to me, Roy. We will talk, and you will see your wife. I will send the directions to Monica’s phone.” She disconnected. In a few seconds the phone chirped with driving instructions.

Confused and desperate, I stumbled to the car and followed the directions to a house a few miles from campus. As I came to the door it opened, and Desiree was there, that evil seductive grin I remembered glowing on her face.

“Roy! Good boy, you got here quickly. Come inside.” She was dressed casually, in jeans and a tee shirt, and her young body strode confidently as I followed her inside. I fought against recognizing the seductive attraction of the young girl’s body. We sat in the living room and she offered me a bottled water. I took it and drank, not realizing till then that I was parched. I looked around the room as I drank. It was obviously a student rental house, the mismatched furniture and décor an obvious collection of salvaged and discarded pieces.

She sat on the couch across from me, and curled a leg underneath her, lowering her head and looking at me with hostility and disdain from under lowered brows. “You’ve disappointed me, Roy. You disobeyed my instructions, and squandered my gift. You’ve made me very angry.” I said nothing, resisting her efforts to control me, concerned for Monica’s safety. “Worse than that, you conspired against me, and tried to turn my little Pet against me. That was bad, Roy. Very bad.” She grinned. “Fortunately your wife was obedient enough to fill me in on your little plot, so I was able to work around it. She is reaping her reward for her loyalty, like a good pet.” Her grin became sinister. “Did you really think you could defeat me, Roy? Did you really think you could take her from me?” She laughed then, a short, bitter sound coming from someone so young. “You don’t know who you’re up against, any more than you know your own wife!”

“Where is she?” I demanded. “I want to see her, now.”

Her voice became angry and sharp. “Easy, Roy,” she snapped. “She’s fine. You’ll see her soon. You just cool your jets a little while, so we can straighten things out between us. You have some things to answer for!”

“I won’t succumb to your will,” I insisted, “you- you-”

“Watch it!” she snarled, leaning forward in her chair. “You watch your words, or I swear to God I will take Monica from you and you’ll never see her again!” I swallowed my words at the threat, my chest tight, and my arms and legs twitching nervously. She looked me up and down. “That’s better. Control yourself. Nothing is happening to Monica that she doesn’t want,” she said slowly, as if explaining to a child. “She’s a wonderful Pet, Roy. She has almost no resistance, no hesitation. And she missed me. She missed pleasing me; she wants me to control her. Her desire to obey me is so complete, it becomes desire to enjoy herself, no matter what I tell her to do.” Her voice softened a little as she spoke. “I thought you understood, after our little … dalliance in your home,” she smirked. “I thought you understood that about her now, that I had made that clear. And I thought you were on board. You said you were…” she trailed off, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“You can’t make me do anything,” I insisted feebly. “Monica and I agreed, we’ll tell Rosie about you, what you did, how you made us — do things.”

“I know, Monica told me.” She shook her head and laughed to herself, mocking my defiance. “Your resistance is almost cute. It would be cuter if it wasn’t so inept and useless.” She laughed again, and reached for her water. “Silly man. Do you think Rosie doesn’t know how I am? What do you think we were fighting about that day at your house?” She drank, then chuckled. “Oh, you’re something. You’re in this so far over your head. Go ahead, tell her. Explain to your precious little girl that you fucked me because I threatened to tell her that her Mom is a submissive slut who can’t resist licking my cunt. Go ahead. It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t talk about my wife that way!” I blurted, still clinging to the idea that Monica and I were in this together, that we could get past it, extricate ourselves from this web of debauchery.

“Roy,” she stood, taking a few steps to a desk in the corner, where a laptop sat. “Do you want to see Monica?”

“Yes, dammit! I told you that.”

“Come over here, sit.” She motioned to a chair in front of the small desk. “See your wife.” She opened the laptop and clicked the mouse a few times, opening a video player. “See what she was doing before you came over.”

The screen burst to life with images and sound, and there, in front of my eyes, was Monica, my sweet Monica, on her hands and knees. “See? This was her reward for her obedience.” She was mostly naked, grunting as a young man shoved his hard cock into her mouth. Behind her, a tall black fellow was fucking her doggie style, and she gasped every time the cock pulled out of her mouth. “Those are my friends, some of my boys. They’re enjoying her pretty good, no?” I felt suddenly light-headed, and slumped in the chair as Monica’s voice begged the man to fuck her harder, to make her cum on his cock. It felt like all the blood had drained from my head, and I nearly passed out. I blinked hard several times and found myself staring, entranced by the images. Monica reached to the laptop and froze the video. In the frame, Monica’s mouth was stretched wide with the boy in front pressing his stomach against her nose, her throat bulging, and the black hand of the boy fucking her was pressed deeply into the flesh at her hips.

She put her lips to my ear and whispered breathily,”I guess you’re not ready to see her as she really is, huh?” Her question dripped with amusement at my reaction. “And I guess it’s hard to admit that she’s a submissive slut.” She kissed my ear, and I felt her tongue play at my earlobe. “If it makes you feel better, she didn’t come here to have sex with those boys. She came here for me. She’s doing that because I told her to; told her to enjoy it.” She reached over and rubbed my crotch, feeling my shrunk and wilted cock. “Not exciting you, Roy? Let’s watch some more,” she teased. She reached for the laptop and the video resumed, my wife bouncing between the two young boys, her body shifting forward and back between their cocks, impaled at both ends while she grunted and moaned with apparent delight.

I stared in shock as Desiree pulled a chair alongside me. “She’s hot, Roy, isn’t she? Look at her taking that cock in her pussy, she loves it,” she tormented, leaning into my ear to make sure I heard her over the sounds assaulting my senses. “She’s making me hot. Is she making you hot?” She reached for my crotch again, this time fondling and rubbing my member. I felt it begin to react, and steeled myself.

“Is she liking my friends?” As I watched, the black guy pulled all the way out, his cock was long and thick and it glistened with her wetness. He motioned to the other guy, who pulled his cock from her mouth with a wet pop. For a second her head lunged forward, mouth open, trying to recapture him. In a flash the tall black kid moved her, turning her to him, and he laid himself down on his back, pulling my wife on top of him, kneeling above him with her knees at his sides, straddling his torso, and he reached between them as she settled her hips. Her mouth opened with a loud moan as he re-entered her. Then he grabbed her shoulders, and kissed him, her mouth open.

I gasped as I saw their tongues wrestling as she panted into his mouth wetly. Until then, I guess, I could still tell myself she was being forced, but she was kissing him passionately, hungrily. She WANTED to kiss him. It was a deep, desirous kiss, and it hurt me even as my dick began to harden in Desiree’s hand.

“Here’s the best part,” she whispered in my ear, and watching my wife tongue-kiss the black college stud, I almost missed the boy behind her, stroking his cock, making it glisten. Then his hands were at her ass, and she grunted into the prone boys mouth as he held her shoulders down. And the young man behind her grabbed his shaft, aimed, and pressed in. On the screen, Monica squealed, half pain and half delight. He was pushing his cock into her ass! Against my will my cock began filling, and Desiree noticed. “O-oh, you like that?” The boy behind her was moving back and forth; as I watched, more and more of his young stiff rod disappeared inside her back door.

“So, whaddaya think, Roy? Is she liking getting her ass fucked? Is she liking getting doubled by my young stud friends?” I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Monica, shouting from the laptop speakers.

“Oh, fuck yeah, fuck my ass! Shove you r cock in my ass and my cunt! Fuck!”

Desiree laughed. “Well, I guess that answers that question!” She reached for the laptop and froze the video. I stared at the still image, seeing my wife’s pale flesh displayed, the muscles in her legs straining to hold her in place, her head angled up, mouth frozen open in a howl of pleasure. Desiree squeezed my cock, now fully hard. “Looks like you enjoyed it, too!” she quipped, and released me and sat back, angling her chair to mine to face me. She reached for my chin and turned my head to hers, away from the image on the screen.

“She didn’t turn against you, you know,” she explained, again like she was addressing an innocent. “You never had her. She was mine the whole time, since the day at your house, when she first swore herself to me.” He voice became playful, teasing. “I knew I had her. I thought I had you, as well.” Her lips curled and her eyes darkened. “I certainly had you that day.” The smile vanished. “But you, you ungrateful, spiteful man, you turned against me. After you promised, you broke your word.” She leaned into me, hissing her words with venom. “I told you to use her, to make her mine, keep her mine, through you. But you ran away from her, wouldn’t talk to her.” She sat back again, relaxing into her chair. “She told me everything. When I told her to come see me, to tell you to come up and see Rosie, I warned her that you might turn on me. That she would lose me. She couldn’t bear it. I told her to play along, to get you here. And here you are,” she added, leaning forward again, and grabbing for my crotch. “Oh, too bad, soft again. We’ll have to fix that.”

“I won’t do what you ask,” I told her, trying to sound stronger than I felt. “You can’t make me. I will confess to Rosie. She’ll understand.” A thought occurred to me, and I used her words against her. “You said she knows how you are. She’ll believe me.”

“Oh yes, she will,” Desiree snarled. “That threat won’t work on you, not anymore.” Her eyes narrowed. “But listen to me, and hear me, Roy. You WILL submit to me. Not as willingly as your wife, but you will. Just like last time.” She leaned in and lowered her voice; I turned my head away. “Or the next time I show you a video, it will be your sweet little innocent Rosie on the screen, getting her cunt and ass pounded.” She grabbed my face in her hands, turned me to look into her eyes. “Would you like that? Would your dick get hard then, like it did watching your slut of a wife? You want to see your little girl debase herself at my command?” She threw my face back. “Because she is just like your wife. I will make HER my pet, if I can’t have you.”

The idea of Rosie participating in such an event was too much, and I felt my remaining resolve leave me. Images of the video I had just seen flashed through my head, but this time my little girl, my sweet innocent daughter, was doubled over, calling to have her ass fucked. I could hear her voice in my head, and I shuddered, and lowered my head in defeat. I took several breaths, and resigned myself to cooperate, while a knot of anger grew in my stomach for my weak-willed wife, for putting me in this situation. I turned my head to Desiree.

“Fine,” I whispered.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” she mocked.

“Fine,” I repeated, louder. “I cooperate. I’ll- I’ll do what you say.” I couldn’t hide the hostility in my voice. I glared at her, and she laughed carelessly, dismissing my emotion.

“A-aw, how cute, Roy is angry. You want to be angry, you want to take it out on someone? Why don’t we go upstairs and see what your wife is up to? Would you like that?”

I didn’t know when I first started writing this, whether to make it a quick-read, or to tell the whole story. After getting into it I realized it is a GREAT story and merits the full telling. So here it is.

When my father died a little over a year ago, my wife Valeri, and I spent several days getting his house in order and ready to sell. He had been sick a long time and I had been emotionally prepared. We worked with purpose and as much humor as possible. In the process we ran across a box of old Penthouse magazines. That evening, after a good shower, pizza and a few beers, we sat in bed and looked through several of the magazines. Valeri, I believed at the time, was a little on the conservative side. She would not easily let her inhibitions go. So I was surprised to see her interest in the photos of these lovely naked ladies. While I found them admirable in so many ways, Valeri’s appreciation was a pleasant surprise. She made comments on their sexiness and on particular parts of their anatomy – the beautiful skin of this one, the perfect nipples of that one. She even said, “I wonder how it would feel to have a full Brazilian wax job like that. I mean a day later; I know it would hurt awful when it was done.” If she noticed the tent forming in my shorts, she didn’t let on.

We began reading some of the letters that people sent in. Some were outrageous and laughable. Others were exciting and sexy as hell. After I read one aloud that described a lesbian girl’s technique for providing oral pleasure to her mate, I saw that Valeri had become flushed. Beads of perspiration formed between her breasts and on her upper lip. I made a metal note of this as I kissed the dew from her lip. A moment later I felt a hand gentle slide over my tent. She had noticed my semi-erect condition, and she was turned on!

Then we read one letter from a women who had gotten her husband inebriated until he fell asleep on the couch. She slid him over unto the coffee table, bound him to it, and blindfolded him. She invited a few of her girlfriends over for coffee and “dessert”. He woke up, bewildered and confused. He only protested for a moment, though, as the women stripped him naked, took turns with him one at a time at first, then together. He totally enjoyed it, of course. But afterwards it drove him crazy because he never found out who the women were.

Valeri felt how rock hard I had become while reading this story. She said, “Wow, you really liked that didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, just realizing it myself. “I guess so. It was pretty cool”. She got a little smile on her face and a gleam in her eye. I thought it was because she then slid down my body and started to lick and suck my penis. That’s what I thought then, in that brief moment where I could think, before her tongue swirled like liquid honey and her lips, incredibly soft and wet, made every other part of me grow weak.

She tenderly licked and ran her soft lips over, around, and up and back. She played me like a delicate new toy until I was begging to have her. She licked under my balls then gently sucked on each one. Then she clamped down on my cock with her lips and tongue and rode up and down my shaft with purpose. In only a minute or two she brought me to an amazingly intense orgasm, ejaculating with a force beyond that of my own power. Her mouth never relaxed its grip, until I was completely spent.

When my mind finally began functioning again, I opened my eyes to see her contentedly smiling at me. Emptied, and fulfilled, I could only smile back at her. I had no words. She slid up close, lay down on her side, and swinging her leg over me, placed her head on my chest. After a few minutes of just breathing, and wondering how I got so lucky, I thought about the Penthouse letter where the lesbian detailed the proper technique for perfect cunnilingus. My libido returned. I gently started touching her head and shoulders. Just lightly running my fingertips over her lovely skin. Then down her arm and onto her breast. Softly, barely touching. Next reaching down her side and along the crest of her hip to the end of my reach. I rolled her slowly unto her back, as she looked up at me with calm, deep liquid eyes. I sat up, and leaning over her, I kissed her hair. I kissed her lips, kissed between her breasts, and then down her beautiful belly to the thatch of hair that guarded her pussy. She moved her legs apart. I nuzzled her soft fur as I swung myself around and knelt between her legs. I bent her knees and pushed her legs up. Then reaching under her hips, I lifted her bottom up until her clitoris, cunt and anus were only a breath away from my tongue. I smelled her, savored her sweet aroma and let it fill my nostrils. Her clitoris glistened as it peeked out from its hood. Her labia, lightly covered in soft tawny hair, were full, moist, and puffed out with need.

She had the most beautiful anal bud, a perfect smooth pink star that moved in and out slightly with her breathing. I wanted to follow the instructions of the lesbian, but I couldn’t help myself. Instead, I applied my soft tongue to her bud, licking flat, back and forth. She yelped in pleasure with the first contact and moaned deeply as I continued; now moving in tiny circles around her anus. She moaned contentedly. I then began probing the little hole, forcing my tongue in as much as I could. Her moans took on a more shrill tone. After a minute or so I drew back and just looked at her. Her wet bud pulsed, opening slightly and closing. Her eyes were closed. Her tongue moistened her lips as her fist clenched the sheets of the bed. I let my breath, hot, moist and very close, expel over her pussy, moving slightly from her clit to her bud, teasing. She whimpered in anticipation. I wet my lips and clamped down on her clitoris sucking it into my mouth in one quick move. My baby shrieked and began to convulse in orgasm as I played my tongue over her captive organ. As her shaking began to subside, in a moment of inspiration I pressed my thumb onto her wet anus and she started her orgasm all over again. She had always reached orgasm easily, but this was surprisingly quick, even for her. I released my lip-lock on her clit and just gently licked it for a moment. Then I just held her there, with my breath caressing her bush.

My arms were getting tired of holding her up, but I hadn’t tasted that delicious cunt yet. I started licking her labia, softly sucking on one full lip through her pubic hair, then on the other. Each time I switched from one to the other my tongue brushed across her clitoris. And each time I did, Valeri interrupted her chorus of moans with a sudden, vocal, gasp. My arms ached, so I knew I couldn’t hold her up much longer. I changed tactics and plunged my face into her swollen vagina, trying to reach as deep as I could with my tongue. I tried to tease her clit with my nose as I tongued and licked in and out and up and down. She shuddered once, groaned long and low and began shaking uncontrollably. I ran my tongue and lips from her sweet anus to her protruding clit, penetrating as deep as I could into her tunnel each time I passed over it. My arms and shoulders hurt, my cock ached like it would explode, and she just kept on writhing in orgasm! Finally, as her shaking diminished, my left arm gave out, followed by the right. I tried to get a grip again but I couldn’t hold on. In the effort my finger ended up against her anus as I dropped her onto the bed. Without a moments thought, I pushed it in. She screamed and began convulsing again, though more briefly this time.

My head dropped face down on her navel. My one hand was trapped with a finger up her ass, and the other still underneath her butt. I didn’t have the strength immediately to lift myself up. So I lay there a minute, hunched over, with my mouth pressed against her stomach. As nice as it was, even with the salty taste of her sweat, I had to turn my head to the side to breath. She was breathing very hard, and her legs, still up in the air, were trembling.

I extracted my one hand from under her and pushed myself up. I was reluctant to pull my finger out of her beautiful bud, but couldn’t do anything else if I didn’t. So I gently slide it free, causing Valeri several quick, deep breaths. Her eyes remained closed. She was not ready to return from wonderland just yet. I held her legs, slowly brought each one down until they lay relax flat on the bed. I half lifted, half dragged myself from between her legs and dropped down beside her. Her anus was a new discovery. We had never had anal sex before. The magazine letters likely stimulated our sexual appetite, and I wondered if we had taken a step in that direction. That’s the last thought I remember until waking in the morning.

That was about a year ago. Now let me tell you about six weeks ago.

In an attempt to keep fit, I try to work out twice a week, jogging and then lifting free weights. On that particular Saturday, the day before my birthday, I had completed my five-mile jog, and was working with the weights. Since we both worked out, we had the weights, weight-bench, and other items set up in a room adjacent to the family room. I could see Valeri in the kitchen, on the other side of the family room, talking on the phone.

I was just getting to the point in my routine where I worked on bench presses. I put 180 pounds on the bar for the presses. I intended to do several reps at this weight and see how far I would get. I sat down on the bench and settled in. Valeri came in and leaned against the doorframe.

“How’s the workout?” she asked. “You don’t look too sweaty.” She had her teasing quality in her voice.

I positioned my hands on the bar, I grunted out some lame response, lifted and lowered the weight. The bar felt right and I began pumping in earnest. I had intended to keep each set to ten reps, but at eight it still felt good. I paused at the top of the press, then decided to press out a few more. In the third set I was really feeling the stress and my triceps had that good ache that says you are building strength. As I inhaled and started lowering the bar on the final rep of the set, Valeri leaned over me. Her long hair dropped in my face and I closed my eyes. But not before I caught the most delightful SEG spreading across her face.

“What are you doing?” I said between breathes. I knew she was going to do something to tease me. I started exhaling as I pressed the bar back up. I felt cold metal pressed against my right wrist, and almost immediately the same on my left. I then heard metal on metal sounds and felt a slight tug on the bar. My concentration was broken, so at the top of the press I cradled the bar. I saw that Valeri, my innocent sweet Valeri, had hand cuffed both of my hands to the bar. I smiled up at her and said again, “What ARE you doing?”

She smiled bright and wide, leaned over me again, and kissed me.

After a few moments she broke the kiss. With her lips barely brushing mine, she smiled warmly and said, “I…am going to have fun today!” And with that she held an awful smelling cloth over my mouth and nose. Before I caught on, before I could figure out anything to do, I was out cold.

Waking up was something that is not clear. It was more like a dream that gradually took on substance. Like swimming under water a long time, breathing just fine, but with your vision distorted and murky. It gets better as you rise to the surface. When you break the surface, this different world is a surprise, and your awareness, distant and lethargic, returns slowly. The first thing that I remember is sailboats, and rocking on the waves of blue water. Then I was hearing the song Blue Bayou. I watched the sailboats going by on the bayou, and then I was on the sailboat watching the bayou go by.

My body began waking too. I felt dead spots. Numbness from lying in one spot too long, and I tried to turn over. But I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t move. I tried to reach down and rub my legs. My hand moved, but I couldn’t reach my leg. It was very perplexing, until my faculties slowly kick in. Realization in small doses started flowing over me. I couldn’t see. Everything was dark. I could move my legs a little side to side, but I couldn’t lift them. I could only wiggle my feet, but otherwise I couldn’t make them move. The same with my hands – I could move them around, raise them up and down and sideways, but my arms were anchored above the elbow.

Suddenly, I put it together. I was bound and blindfolded! The realization scared me at first. I struggled to pull away. I growled and I jerked my arms, I tried to force my legs free, but to no avail. I tried to move my head around and push the mask or blindfold off. I could move my head but the blindfold moved with it and stayed firmly in place.

Then some of the recent memories came back. I remembered the last thing I saw – the shit-eating-grin on Valeri’s face. She had done this. It began to fall into place. I could now tell I was lying on the weight bench. She must have put me to sleep with some clinical knockout juice, and tied me to the bench. I could half-feel, half-sensed my ankles were tied to the lower legs of the bench. I wiggled my legs again and confirmed it. I think my ass was half off the bench, but it was kind of numb so I couldn’t be sure. My arms were bound just above the elbow and straight out from my sides. Then I remember the handcuffs and being handcuffed to the weight bar. That was it! I was strapped to the bar, but not with handcuffs, with belts or…duct tape.

I tried my voice. I could barely hear it, kind of horse. I said, “Val?” But all I could hear was some country singer praising his truck. “Val,” I said again, with much more strength in my voice. But I couldn’t hear any response. I got ready to scream out as loud as I could when I heard her voice over the music, or in the music. Then I got it. I wasn’t just blindfolded; I had headphones fastened to my ears somehow, so all I could hear was the music. She must have mixed a microphone in through the tape machine, or a Karaoke machine some way.

“Hi baby. Are you comfortable?” came Valeri’s voice. “I tried to make you comfortable. Are you OK?” Her voice expressed concern, but also held the element of teasing or smirking in it.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m having a problem standing up”.

That tickled her, and she let out a quick laugh, but I didn’t mean it to be funny. She said, “Yes, that is going to be a problem for a while. You see, I have tied you up.”

That made me chuckle. “Really!” I said. “Well, I don’t see, as you can see, I’m sort of blind, so you will have to explain this to me.”

“There is nothing to explain, actually,” she said. “I’m just going to have my way with you!”

But I got more serious. “Val, what’s gotten in to you? What is this all about?”

She responded quickly. “It’s about me having my way with you. Now I don’t want to waste your time, so is there anything I can do for you?”

Waste MY time. Was I going somewhere all tied up?

“Perhaps a drink,” she said, “different music, I have a nice selection? Do you need scratching anywhere?” Her voice was almost giddy, and as such, infectious. Yet there was a finality to her tone that told me I really had only the choices she listed. I ask for water and in a moment she held a straw to my lips. I drank heartily as I wondered what she had planned, what it mean to “have her way with me”. As it turned out, my sweet siren wife had a side to her that I could never have imagined.

“Let the games begin,” I pronounced. Bolero began to play into my captive ears.

It was hard to gauge the passage of time. I thought about what she was up to, and I reasoned it would end in something sexual. She may be somewhat conservative sexually, but she wasn’t shy in bed. I don’t know how long I lay there thinking, but I was suddenly aware of a light, cold object on the inside of my thigh. I felt a tugging on my jogging shorts. I’m not sure when realized the cold was a pair of scissors and my shorts were being cut away!

“Jees, be careful down there” I yelled, but in a moment my shorts were laid open and yanked from underneath me. My penis and balls were exposed with no place to hide. Before I could feel the change in temperature, my shirt fell to the blades of the scissors. I lay there bound, helpless and quite naked. Knowing the intimate love I shared with Valeri, and the anticipation of her “having fun with me”, it felt good.

But there are some things you just never really ever think about. So you don’t get it immediately when a nicely warm and moist cloud descends over you genitals. It’s all sensual and sexual. It is shear pleasure… until you realize it is a shearing pleasure, and the cloud is shaving cream! The truth was conveyed to me with the first drag of the razor down my balls! I had never felt that sensation before. But I knew immediately what is was! My whole body jerked with the realization.

“Whoa there Mike,” Valeri rebuffed me. “Settle down…or the boys in the locker room are going to start calling you Michelle”. I protested. I said it was not right for a guy to be balls BALD! I was angry, but I was also excited, and a bit curious. It was hard to mount a successful defense when a beautiful woman is holding your testicles in her hands. Still, I protested, but there was no response except the razor scraping away my pubic hair.

And that was it. For the next half hour or so, my cock was pushed and pulled this way and that, along with my scrotum and balls. It was quite a sensation, and not bad really, if I didn’t think too much about the “little boy look” I would soon be sporting.

Yet through the whole process I felt that there was something strange going on. Something that was not as it should be. It was hard to perform any serious deductive reasoning with my privates being lovingly handled, so I let it go — the whole shaving balls thing was quite strange to begin with — what did I expect?

As a finale, a lotion of some sort was enthusiastically rubbed in everywhere, with special attention given to my erection. My breath started coming in short pants, and I found myself groaning. Again something strange flashed through my mind, but it couldn’t hang on. My groans became a growl. Then, just as my balls began to tighten, the expert rubbing of my cock abruptly stopped! Sadly, painfully, I was not allowed to cum.

“Oh really?” I said, “You’re stopping now? Come on, I need to cum after all that fondling!”

The response I got was cheery “Now you are squeaky smooth and pretty,” in Valeri’s pleased-with-herself voice.

I didn’t know I was “squeaky smooth and pretty” but that little voice in my headphones pronounced me so, as Lionel Richie sang “Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady”. I’m not sure if that is irony, but all I could think of was the boys in the locker room laughing at my “lady trim”.

After several minutes, maybe more, long hair tantalizingly brushed over my chest. I could smell the hair, or thought I could. Something lightly touched my lips, and as I wondered what it was, it pressed down. I opened my mouth and sucked in a tasty nipple. I tongued it eagerly, as Valeri spoke again. “What would you like to eat?” she said, and proceeded to list choices as I sucked. Then she stopped, and said, “Never mind, I’ll pick for you”. And with that she popped her breast out of my mouth and was gone again. I was left wanting, my mouth not understanding, still forming an “O” in the air. I pulled instinctively…and futilely at my bonds.

I was left alone it seemed for what felt like a long time. It was probably no more than five or ten minutes. But time passes slowly when you are naked and bound. My thoughts wandered, but the whole time it felt like I wasn’t alone. No sound penetrated the headphones other than the music, no air movement, no vibrations of the floor or bench, just a silly sense of being watched. It made me wonder if Valeri was sitting right there, “having her way with me” in some unfathomable manner. I assumed she left me to get whatever food she decided I wanted, but I really had know way of knowing.

Then I did feel the slightest vibration, and a second later gentle fingernails dragged across my balls and flaccid penis. It didn’t stay flaccid. It pumped up by a third in anticipation. But the next thing I felt was something bumped my lips. It bumped twice more before I got that I was suppose to open my mouth. I opened it and a small round object was placed in. It was slightly warm, somewhat soft and wet. I wasn’t sure as I rolled it around with my tongue. I mashed down on it a little and a cool liquid oozed out. It was a grape. I chewed it up and opened my mouth for another. It didn’t come, and I felt pretty dumb lying there with my mouth open like a baby bird. I closed it.

I felt the bump again and eagerly played the game and opened my mouth. Again it was a grape, but it was warmer, and wetter. I chewed it up and again opened my mouth for the next one, but closed it again, not wanting to look silly. When I thought about that, I chuckled out loud. I was strapped to a weight bench by a 100 pound girl, stripped naked with shaved balls, begging for grapes — the looking silly ship had already sailed!

My lips were bumped again and I responded opening my mouth with a little pucker, like a kiss. The grape was placed on my lip and pushed in. The finger, of course, followed part way and I sucked on it as it withdrew. I almost immediately knew why the grapes were warm on the outside. The taste and smell on the finger was undeniably vaginal. So that is why it was so long between bites. The grapes were marinating in love juice.

I chewed it up again, smiling as I thought Valeri’s taste, and smell, were stronger, actually more tangy than usual. Laughing I said, “You need to go wash up a little baby, you’re pussy is more potent than usual.” At that point I thought I briefly heard a laugh. But it wasn’t how Valeri laughed, so it had to be something in the music. Another grape bumped my mouth almost immediately, and I formed my kiss lips again. Again the grape was place on my lips and pressed in, and again I suck on the finger as I pulled out. I must have cleaned the finger very well the first time because this time it wasn’t nearly as strong, and more sweet than tangy.

I received a few more grapes with the same routine, and each time the taste, smell, and finger were unique. I might have wondered about this, but the menu changed.

This time, instead of my lips being bumped, they were pressed, and a warm, mushy, almost liquid substance covered my mouth. It was chocolate pudding, served on a firm breast with a lovely nipple. I licked and slurped my way around that delicious orb until it was lifted away. But in a moment it was replaced with another serving, one that pressed a good bit harder into my mouth. Why should I mind? What a great substitute for spoons.

This went on for several feedings, sometimes mashing into my face and all around, sometimes held just about my lips or barely within my reach lifting my head as high up as I could. It’s hard to believe, I know, but I became tired of it, tired of pudding breasts. But I cherished my imagined image of Valeri’s beautiful perfect globes dangling over me covered in pudding. That would have to happen again when I had eyes to see.

“Ok, baby, the grapes and pudding were good”, I said in my most commanding voice. “But even a shaved blindfolded man need real food! How ’bout some meat!”

In a moment, over the chorus of Captain and Tennile singing “Muskrat Love”, or some equally stupid song, I heard “As you wish”.

Just as the music reached the peak and began down its crescendo, the softest, smoothest, wettest, pussy I’ve ever known descended unto my face. It was so unexpected, so perfectly choreographed in its simple one movement dance, that it held the magic of childhood awe and the mystic of a first time experience in unmatched pleasure. For the longest time I could not move. I didn’t want to move. The feeling of that warm flesh, the soft wet folds caressing my cheeks, nose, and mouth, was such an enthralling pleasure; I never wanted to leave that space.

Then reality set in and I had to tilt my head forward to take a breath. As I did, my nose pushed against a prominent clitoris. I felt that amazing flesh quiver and I inhaled deeply. I moved my nose back again, stimulating her clit and jammed my tongue into her wide-open vagina. She shuddered. The feeling of my mouth and tongue moving against her swollen lips, and clitoris was divine. That connection is so emotionally pure and physically intimate that it defies language to describe it. It is a communion beyond expression, an expression beyond communication.

I assaulted this treasure with slow, purposeful intention. My lips and tongue were my only tools, but I was the master, a craftsman, working as any serious artist, with every effort to achieve perfection. Sucking each wing of her cunt, caressing it in my mouth with soft, flat tongue, and nose occasionally circling her clit. Gently increasing the pace, but never forgetting to be gentle, until her body shook in orgasm. When it began to subside, I became aggressive, ceasing to be gentle with soft movements. I sucked each lip of her opening deep into my mouth and pulled it around and around. Then pulled on it until it popped out of my mouth and I seized the other one, back and forth, until finally going for her clitoris and sucking that with abandon.

I couldn’t hear her scream, but I felt it. Every muscle in her body, tensed in anticipation of the power building in her groin, suddenly shook violently as her second orgasm engulfed her completely. Wave after wave took her. Even the weight bench shook from the intensity. Her juices flowed over my cheeks and into my mouth. I was so proud, until her legs gave out and her vagina sagged hard against my face. Breathing was impossible under her, but I managed by turning my head to the side and pull my chin down. I took great gulps of the air, and with it, the smell of lovemaking.

I was rock hard. I hadn’t realized it until after she began to calm down. It had all been for her. God that felt good – that it was all for her, but now my cock ached.

She finally found her legs, and lifted herself off my head. That wonderful wet and soft pussy lifted away and was gone. It was good because I could breathe, but I missed the smooth flesh. She kissed me. Her hair brushed against my chest as her smooth lips press against my very wet lips, wet with her juices. Her hair brush over my face as she pulled away. It felt good, familiar. For a moment I was confused by an odd thought. Then it hit me.

“Hey!” I said, my voice a mix of enthusiasm and awe. “There’s no hair on your pussy! You shaved!” The realization astonished me. It was so out-of-character for her. Well, this whole thing today was so out-of-character for her — it’s like she was just being somebody else for the day, possessed. So strange. But…I had no complaints.

Her voice broke in over Aretha laying it down in “Respect”.

“No I didn’t”, she said, and then giggled. “I had a Brazilian!” She laughed again. “The bush is gone. The whole thing, sooo…. you can’t complain about your naked balls, or should I say…hairless balls.” She laughed again, and then I was alone, or it felt like it anyway. I heard only the music. Now it was Richie Havens cranking up on the Beatles song, “Here Comes the Sun”. Where did she get this mix?

The ache in my balls and cock slowly let up and my hard-on softened. I tried to reposition myself for a little more comfort. My cock flopped back and forth as I moved, then finally went limp.

Many thoughts went through my head, but mostly they came back to Valeri, amazingly smooth pussy, a Brazilian no less, and this whole sex adventure. The “Wow factor” was off the charts. I must have been alone quite a while because I fell asleep. I awoke to a wet, hot mouth sucking my limp penis.

Maybe it was the waking up, but her mouth was hotter than I have ever felt any mouth. With the strong tongue movements and the pulling from wet firm lips it did not take long for my raging hard-on to be restored. I could hear my groans. I needed relief so bad. I prayed that those expert lips would grant me release. I was being well sucked. Swirling tongue and soft firm lips stroke up and down my shaft. It was amazing. Each time that mouth descended down my cock it went further down than the time before. She had never done this before!

I don’t have the biggest cock on the planet, but I am a pretty good size, and for the first time in my life I was being Deep Throated. Her nose and lips were bottoming out against my belly each time those hot lips rode down my shaft. Her hand was on my balls as they began to draw up and tighten. I was going to blow my load. My cock was all the way down here throat. I couldn’t believe the feeling.

Just as I was sure I would unload in the next couple of strokes, the lips slid up my shaft and stopped. They did a last sucking kiss on my knob, and were gone. I couldn’t believe it. I cried out, “No, don’t stop now!” I pleaded. “God women, have a heart, get me off!”

No sooner were the words out then my face was once again smothered by pussy. I tried to scream “Not fair” into the pussy, but the words were so muffled by the soft moist flesh that I couldn’t even understand them myself. I automatically started licking and sucking, but I was so frustrated with this dilemma, and actually getting angry, that I didn’t notice that she tasted different again, and the aroma was different too. I didn’t notice the taste and smell until I realized that I was licking and sucking hair again. What was she doing? My mind reeled.

It was a relief when I felt hands on my penis. Then a hot mouth enveloped it and fingers messaged my balls and ass. I thought, “Ok, good, at least you’re getting back to my cock!”

The deep-throating process began again, giving me unbelievable pleasure. Still, there was something distracting, something more unbelievable hammering at my blood-starved brain. With limited analytical powers, with licking an impossibly fury pussy, with my engorged penis throbbing deeper down a throat, I tried to put explanation to these events. How could she do it? Women in my headphones sang about having two lovers that she loved “both the same!” I wasn’t really listening to it, but I guess on some level I heard.

The truth of my situation flared to light like a match striking fire. THERE WERE TWO WOMEN! I screamed my muffled scream up the vagina on my face, “My god, Valeri…”

But that’s all I had. I couldn’t get my mind around the reality of it. My cock swelled, my balls drew up, and all thought ceased. Instinctively I kept licking and sucking the strange fury cunt, but all awareness and attention was focused on my imminent orgasm. My Valeri, my Lady Deep Throat felt it too and plunged my cock as deep into her throat as she could and sucked with unbelievable strength.

It was the strongest eruption I have ever had, by far. I exploded!! The power of my seminal release was nothing less than a launch. Every part of my body gathered together for that sole purpose, and let go in unison. Wave after wave of such intense pleasure racked my body so deeply that it, somehow, was painful. Exquisitely painful! After forever had come and gone, I started settling down. Lady Deep Throat, whose fingers were dug tight into my ass cheeks, slowly withdrew her mouth from my still throbbing cock. This act provided sufficient stimulation to generate multiple after-shocks. I trembled again with another, though milder orgasm. I had never before had a double orgasm.

Clouds of passion and confusion, of sweat and pussies and breasts with pudding, all swirled like snapshots and strobe lights in my head. My breathing returned to normal, and only then could I gain any sense of the last few…what… minutes…hours. My sense of smell returned, and I caught a whiff of that strange vagina, it’s juices drying on my face.

God, what happened? Surely this all had to be a dream! It was as impossible as anything in a dream. I needed perspective. Go back to the start…when did it start. And this I did. I tried to anchor on getting out of bed this morning. Then having that firmly rooted in my mind I followed the sequence of the days events. They story unreeled like a movie in my head. It had all the detail, all the senses, sound and touch, smell and even sight. Except now, even though sight was stolen from me now, that in itself somehow made it real. The whole thing was real! Bazaar as hell, but real.

Another thing was real too. I said, “I have to take a piss” in my most demanding voice. I don’t know what I expected, but for a minute there was nothing. “This is no joke, I have to pee!”

The next thing I knew my penis was being grabbed and pull. It felt like a condom was being put on my limp penis. It was not a gentle struggle. I think my cock was refusing to be stuck into anything again today, but the assault team was persistent. When my handlers stopped and my poor penis fell back to my belly, there was something encasing my abused organ.

The joyful tones of my dear wife broke in to my musical world, ” OK, big boy, take your leak.”

“What… here?” I said. “In front of whats-her-name?” Then I laughed at my own silliness. Being bashful after what just transpired was nuts. I peed.

“What is whats-her-names name?” I asked as my bladder emptied itself into whatever was attached to my penis.

“Who’s name?” my captor replied.

“The other women Val,” I said proudly. “I know there are two of you. You couldn’t deep-throat me with you pussy on my face. Or was that your pussy on my face and you didn’t really have a Brazilian?” I had only to taste my pussy soaked lips to know that the fury pussy was not Valeri.

“She giggled into my headphones. The giggle had all the bravado of the SEG I saw on her face at the beginning of all of this. She said, “So many questions. I’ll answer one. Her name is….. the Siren of Wind”, then she went silent leaving me with, of all things, Roger Miller singing “Tie Me Kangaroo Down Sport”. Did she plan the timing of this music?

I finished draining my pipes, and was happy when the devise was wrestled off my cock.

Valeri came on the headphones again. “Here, baby, take a drink of water,” and she pressed the straw to my lips. I sucked several sips. It tasted like pussy. Then she said, “Here take this too,” and popped a pill in my mouth, “Swallow”, she said giving the straw back to me, “Don’t chew”. I did and drank some more.

I was going to ask her what the pill was, when I suddenly felt a slippery finger sliding back and forth in the crack of my ass. After some soothing rubbing it stop on my anus and messaged in a circle around it, applying more and more pressure. I tensed up, but then the voice in the headphones whispered, “You had better relax that little port, don’t want it to get hurt”.

It wasn’t like I had options, and I didn’t want THAT to get hurt. I did my best to loosen up. The finger came back with more jelly and continued circling my “little port”. This went on only a moment before it slipped in. It wasn’t a new feeling, but it didn’t have Valeri’s touch, so I guessed it was the Siren of Wind up my ass. I broke out laughing at the thought. The finger paused, like it had been insulted, or curious about my laughter, but then wiggled around a moment and withdrew. Then it circled around then entered again. This play continued for a short while, maybe a couple of minutes, and I was getting used to it. Then two fingers pierced my anus. It made me suck my breath in, but the two fingers continued without hesitation. I have to admit it was pleasant. I started to feel aroused, a little. Then the fingers slipped out and were immediately replaced by something different – a dildo, or a butt plug, or…

I could only guess. I know it was larger than the fingers and seemed to have a part of it that was thicker than the rest of it. My captors just left it in there, stuck in or hanging out of my ass. It wasn’t being moved around so it was hard to determine much.

I seemed to be alone again. Alone with that “Wonderful Tonight” song, Eric Clapton I think. I wondered who the Siren of the Wind was. And what was Valeri thinking with this crazy thing she was doing to me. This is too wild for her. Tying me up, maybe. But to share me with another women, to watch another women put her vagina in my face, to watch me eat another women…that was not the Valeri that I knew. Maybe I was working too much, not being home enough, that drove her to this… this carnal conquest. I couldn’t figure it. And she had a Brazilian! A full-blown baby-smooth beaver! The thought just amazed me. Then she shaved me bald as an eight year old. She was something else. I wondered, was she stoned, or doing drugs? Was I?

Oddly, with nothing else going on, with no one touching me or making me eat anything or anyone, I was getting aroused. I guess having an unknown ass invader is more than just “nothing going on”, but I couldn’t believe that would make me start to have an erection. I tried to shift my position and it caused the “Invader” to shift in my rectum. God, I hope I wasn’t getting kinky and starting to love having my ass jacked! I could feel my balls pulling up a little, and my cock was rising up from the dead. Without thinking, I tried to reach down a stroke my cock, just to check on the feeling I was having. But my arms remain trapped, my hands only able to swing around from the elbow joint.

In a few more minutes there was no doubt. My penis was fully erect, and then some. I could feel the blood throbbing from the knob on down my shaft to deep in my body. The skin of my cock was tight, and I felt huge, pointing straight up. I also felt flushed and hot…and extremely horny.

Thinking I was alone I yelled out, “Val!”

“You don’t have to yell” the earphone said. “I’m right here watching you”.

“Something’s going on,” I said. “I have a raging hard-on”. Then I added, “And a missile up my butt.”

“Yes, I see,” came the reply. “We’ve been waiting, and watching you grow, baby. You’ve done a marvelous job”, she said mockingly.

“You’ve been waiting”, I asked. “For what? What are you going to do?”

“For the Viagra to kick in, of course.” Again she giggled. “And to answer you second question — everything!”

Viagra? Viagra! “You gave me Viagra?” I screamed. “It feels like I’m going to explode!”

“We will help you with that, baby,” my wife chortled. “Don’t worry”.

Don’t worry? I wasn’t worried. I was exploding. Why should I worry! Just as I started to yell again, the invader up my butt started vibrating. All the words for whatever I was going to say left my head. All I could think was that my ass was vibrating — way up there vibrating.

Something touched my lips. My recent programming took over and I opened my mouth. I started to lick, thinking I was being presented with another piece of womanhood. But my tongue touched something quite different. It was pushed gently into my mouth. I couldn’t really taste it, or smell it for that matter, not at first. Everything tasted and smelled like pussy. But apparently she was making sure I didn’t get hungry. It had a cake like texture, and after chewing for a short while I decided it was a brownie. It did have a taste, though still strong in the pussy flavor, but chocolaty, and I ate all of it.

Then warm, wet, softness engulfed my super monster cock, and slid slowly down. Slowly, teasingly, tongue rubbing-ly down, down, torturously down my cock. All I could think was “HURRY!!” The hot mouth took in all of me, I know I had to be deep down a throat, then it reversed direction and the sucking began as the mouth drew ever so slowly back. All the synapses that were my mind fired at once in unison. White lightening — the blindfold had kept my eyes in the dark. But for those few moments… minutes?… hours?…I don’t know…but for that span of time I saw white light! Then the amazing sucking mouth pulled off suddenly, releasing my cock with a force that had to create a loud POP, though I couldn’t hear it. I could only hear the blood pumping in my ears, my chest heaved and I gasped for breath. A hand grabbed my cock and in the next movement it was enveloped again. Not as soft as the mouth, but as hot and moist as before, it slid down until it bottomed against my bones. It was somehow different; it squeezed the base of my penis and released several times. It squeezed and slid up until only the head of my cock remained captured. The feeling was unbelievable. Then it relaxed and rapidly slammed down again with enough force that my groin felt like it was being flattened. The muscles tightened again, gripping my cock as tight as a hand, and made several shorts stokes up and down. Each time my groin was compressed. It held with that tight grip and slid nearly off again. Only the head of my cock was held. My thoughts were muddled, blurry, but it came to me that what was slamming into my groin were butt cheeks! One of them was riding with me up their ass!

That was a whole new world for me. Val and I had never done that before. We had played… a finger here and there, but not actually ass fucked. I didn’t know if we were doing it now! I could be sticking it up the butt of the Siren of the Wind! It wasn’t like I could stop and figure all this out. All my thoughts were fragments, pieces that blew through my mind like leaves on a fall day. Before I could wrap my head around this new realization, another set of butt-cheeks nestled down on my face. It took several moments for me to actually register that it was a set of butt-cheeks. With all the sensations I was feeling, true analysis wasn’t possible. Just that something warm, moist, and smooth, something definitely female pushed down on my face. I felt them push apart as they settled. They were too large and firm to be the tantalizing folds of labia, and as a rosy bud pressed against my nose – quit different than a clitoris — all doubt was gone.

I was on autopilot now. It was all sensory reaction. Stimulus and reaction. I stuck out my tongue without a though and rimmed that rosy anus. I licked and prodded with my tongue, poked it into the rose a deep as I could. At some point I concluded that it was Valeri on my face because I couldn’t feel hair when my tongue would be briefly presented with a taste of pussy, before that rose bud was slid back to receive more service. At first I felt good that it was Valeri. I wanted to please her.

But something wasn’t right. It didn’t taste or smell like Valeri. It didn’t taste or smell like Siren of the Wind either. I couldn’t think, couldn’t complete a chain of thought with the repeated slamming by the women’s ass riding my cock. I felt like I would come soon. I needed to come soon! Then the butt-cheeks withdrew from my face and were immediately replaced by smooth, very wet labia. The labia gyrated in slow circles, beckoning my tongue and lips. I could smell the fragrance of her, and I wondered if prolonged arousal could change Valeri’s sweet sexy odor of womanhood. I was wondering this when the circular motion brought my tongue and upper lip first to the clitoris, then a little further up the abdomen where I contacted hair. Just a little, a narrow patch, right atop the convergence of her pussy lips. It wasn’t Valeri. And it wasn’t Siren of the Wind either; she had hair over all of her pussy. As I licked and sucked, my mind, already in heavy overload, and my cock being ridden hard, I grasped the incredible truth, there were THREE women using me! No sooner did that thought take me, than the mystery pussy on my face let go with a torrent of juice. She flooded me — my face certainly, and my ears and neck, my nose and chin were copiously drenched in this magical vaginal nectar. As she shook with the spasms of orgasm, I drank her sweet juice like a man too long in the desert. All of which put me over the top.

I shot my load into the wildly banging ass that rode my cock! I groaned as my cock pumped an amazing stream into the hot, sweet, unknown, ass. With each slam against my groin, another torrent was ejected, and another deep body-aching pleasure-groan rose through my chest into the pussy still draining on my face. The ass slamming went on and on with my body jerking underneath.

I think I left the planet. The entire sphere of my being was sensory. No time and space, no logic or comprehension, no shred of tangible earthly known form existed. Only sensory input touched me, and auto-response, quite outside of thought-control. I lost all sense of self. Like a shipwrecked sailor too long on a raft in the ocean, I floated in a delirious sea of pleasure.

When I finally came back to earth, to myself, I floated in on the lyrics of “Nights in White Satin”. I mused about who had sung it, until it was replace by something from Stone Temple Pilots, something with a driving beat, but I couldn’t place it. I thought to get up and try to read the CD case for the name of the song, but I couldn’t get up. I tried, but I couldn’t. I felt woozy. I was woozy. Then it came back to me, or at least enough of it did. I remembered I was tied up. My Valeri tied me up! But why?

My penis was hard. I had a woody. That was funny. I was woozy. I had a woody. I had a woozy woody. Ha! I was stoned. And I had a woozy woody! So funny.

Hey, I was stoned! My head was so light. My woody was so light. Ha ha!

Why was I stoned? Why was I stoned and tied up? Valeri would know. I would ask Valeri. Bet that was a weedy brownie. Where did she get this music?

Then I felt something touch my hand. It pressed into my hand. It was big, round, and soft and squishy-like. Like a breast. OH MY GOD, it was a breast! I had a handful of breast! And nipple too. Then my other hand had a handful of breast too. Not as big and not as squishy, but still nippled.

“Val”, I said, ” Your boobs don’t match,” and then I laughed. A voice, Val’s voice, came across the sea from very far away, “Those aren’t my boobs, baby”.

“That’s good,” I said, still laughing, ” ’cause that’s one weird set of Tetons”.

I stopped laughing. It suddenly came over me that I had two different boobs in my hands and they weren’t Valeri’s. I fondled them. I palmed them; I thumbed the nipples, which were as different as the breasts. The smaller breast had a pointed nipple, while the larger one had a raised areola and a huge, very hard center part. Then they pulled away from me.

Next my woody was grabbed. In a moment I felt legs straddling me, and warm, wet, softness enveloped my erection. My woody was in a pussy, I thought. Pussy woody, I mused. It felt so, so good. Then my left hand had it’s own warm, wet, softness pushed down on it. I felt the folds of another pussy. I cupped it, then turned my hand and stroked the lips, until I pushed a finger, then two fingers into the vagina. It squirmed against my fingers. I had to be stoned and dreaming because the next thing to happen was to have another pussy against my right hand, and I inserted two fingers into that vagina. “What a dream this is” I spoke to no one.

Fragments of the past few hours, or minutes, or days, I didn’t know, came drifting back to me. My wife and two of her friends were fucking the hell out of me! One was on my cock and two were on my hands, and they were using me anyway they wanted. Wow, any way they wanted. It all seemed good to me and my woody! I laughed, then stopped. Then laughed some more. So, even though I didn’t add it up right away. I wasn’t surprised when another pussy descended on my face. Why should my face be deprived? It was getting plenty of pussy today. What’s another pussy? What’s a fourth pussy?

It moved on my face with a gentle rocking action. All the pussies were moving in a gentle rocking action. Moving together. Moving in unison. A cornucopia of pussies, an orchestration, a choreography of cunts rocking and rolling to the peaceful pace of Billie Holiday’s “Why Not Take All of Me”! They did. I would have smiled at this…if I could have.

When the music changed, they all left me at the same time, and a moment later settled back again, all four. Each time the music changed, they changed. They were playing musical chairs on me – Musical Pussies on me! Ha ha! I could tell they were changing places because of the different tightness of each vagina on my cock, and different hair and wetness on my hands and face. In the third song I lost my load again, and on the fourth my face was drenched again. Then again on the fifth song. Even my hair was soaked to the skin with vag-nectar, vag-juice of love.

Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody played through the headphones. It all took on a carnival quality. The calliope went round and round and the music changed with the zebra and the horse and the unicorn and the flying pig passing by going up and down. Soon my hands got tired. My tongue and lips were worn out. I couldn’t do it anymore. Only my penis stood tall and strong. My Viagra cock. Ha, my Viagra cock-a-doodle-do-it again and again. It couldn’t be put down. The ladies gave up on my face and hands, but not on that tower of rock cock. I don’t know how many time I came, or how many pussies quivered and clutched my member in the throws of their orgasm. I had no control, and eventually no sense of it until it seemed like the calliope was slowing down, coasting to a stop. I was breathing hard. My whole body throbbed. But it was slowing down. I think I said Valeri’s name — “Val”? Then that cloth with the awful smell, that strange sterile smell, was pressed to my face. My darkness changed to a pale blue, and then I was out.

When I woke up it was to a stinging pain like my skin was being ripped off my arm. I opened my eyes to blurred vision. Light colors moving, beige and deep red spots. Moving, swaying. When I achieved focus, I found I was looking at my wife’s beautiful naked breasts hanging over me, her cherry nipples only inches from my mouth. I heard a cutting sound that was immediately followed by the skin being ripped off my other arm.

“Aww god”, I screamed. My arms had been duct taped to the weight bar.

“Hi baby”, came Valeri’s happy voice. “So you’re finally awake”

I didn’t know if I was still high or not, though my perception was that something surreal was happening. Or had just happened. Not really a dream-state, but I didn’t have the clarity of being fully alert either. My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips. The taste of vagina juice brought reality, if that’s what it was, crashing back down on me.

I don’t know exactly what I said. Something like, “Did all that really happened?” or maybe, “Did you do to me what I think you did?”

I got a kiss on my lips, and her biggest smile. I tried to put my arms around her but it hurt to move them. Everything hurt. I glanced around. No one was in the room except Valeri. Nothing was out of place, except the weigh bench I was laying on was now in the family room, in front of the couch where the coffee table used to be. They must have moved it, with me on it, from the exercise room when Valeri first put my under.

I looked down, and to my surprise, I still had a hard-on. It was leaning a little left, like it was contemplating a nap, but couldn’t quite make it yet. I had no pubic hair any more. Valeri knelt down to release my feet and took my penis into her mouth for one quick, wet suck, then let go. It immediately sprang to attention like a soldier on the front lines.

“Oh, good,” she said as she cut the tape away from the leg of the weigh bench. “You cock still has some life. I wasn’t really through with that yet”. She turned her head and smiled her SEG at me.

RIP! The tape tore at the skin of my ankle. First the left ankle, then the right. I was sure it tore half my ankle off, just muscle and tendon, and bloody insides left. It was amazing how painful it was. I let out another groan, and tried to pull myself up to a sitting position. Every muscle complained. The posts of the weigh bench bar cradle were in my armpits. I struggled to pull myself through them. I swung my body sideways and pulled on cradle bars to raise myself up. I needed to pee. I tried to stand up, forcing myself through the stiffness and pain, and almost fell. With much effort I walked to the bathroom hanging on to anything I could grab along the way. I realized it would a futile exercise to get this cock pointed down at the toilet. I made it to the bathroom and peed in the tub. God, the relief felt so good. Everything else ached, but the relaxed bladder was wonderful.

Done with that I moved stiffly to the sink and washed my face and hands with warm, comforting water. It felt good to move and I began to loosen up. I walked some more, feeling the stiffness slowly subside, as I did a high step, trying to force circulation back into all my muscles. Still, I hung on to things, not trusting my balance yet. As I did I watched Valeri pulling tape off the weight bench and cleaning things up. Her body was so…beautiful. So perfect. So naked. The movement of the muscles in her legs, the rotation of her buttock, and the bounce of her breasts, were all in such perfect harmony, marvelously flowing sinew and bone, like liquid honey moving under her skin. I realized my hard-on became harder, rock hard again. She bent over to pick up several towels from the floor, and that sweet round ass, with those perfect, waxed-clean pussy lips, was an overwhelming sight. I nearly swooned. I told her not to move with a very forceful voice. She didn’t, except to turn her head and look back at me looking at her. I just stared at the glorious, angelic vision before me. The perfect butt, heart shaped with full hemispheres tapering down to beautiful firm thighs. And right in the center, that soft pink perfect star. Below that, not a hair in sight, the fleshy swell of full labia, cleft deeply in the center. At the end of the cleft a bright pink button emerged. I swear I nearly had an orgasm just looking at her!

She smiled at me. Not a shit-eating-grin this time, not that laughing SEG she had given me so many times, but a smile that held passion, that recognized I was loving her with my eyes. A smile that spoke of warmth and understanding. I was filled with wonder at the beauty of nature’s greatest creation- this woman. At that moment my heart and body surged with equal parts of lust and love, anxiety and appreciation.

I moved up behind her and dropped to my knees. I began to slide my fingertips over the round globes of her bottom. I was caressing this vessel of beauty. Moving my fingers, then hands around the shape of her. Not just exploring, but absorbing, feeling the perfection and knowing the joy of its touch.

I touched the star that formed her anal bud and she moaned. My fingertips danced down to her folds and lightly kneaded her flesh while my tongue started drawing wet circles around her bud. My fingers found her clitoris and gently massaged, pressed and squeezed. Another finger found it’s way into her vagina. She was wet to the touch and my finger spread her juice over her pussy lips and clit. The scent of lovemaking was heavy in the air. My tongue began more aggressive ministrations on her anus. She swooned, and wobbled a little.

I stood up and began rubbing the tip of my cock up and down her rear. Holding it at the base, I guided it from her clitoris gently up to her beautiful bud. I pushed just a bit at her bud and saw her bud contract, then push out. I slid my penis down slowly to her labia, pushing them apart, wet-slippery apart, moving slowly until I contacted her clitoris again. It had grown; thrusting further from it hooded shelter. I pushed passed it, rubbing my shaft along it as much as I could, then, drawing back, began the process again.

I did this several more times, luxuriating in every soft, wet, physical sensation. Valeri was moaning with each passage over her clit, and after a while, shivered in a mild orgasm. I move cautiously, not rushing her pleasure. I once again push my penis through her labia, but this time pausing over her vaginal entrance, moving the tip around those lovely full pussy lips. I caressed her opening that way trying to prolong her orgasm. Then I slowly pushed in until with one long continuous stroke until I was completely buried in her. Just as slowly I drew out again. I hand-guided my cock back to her clit, and back to her anus again. I returned to her tunnel and pushed easily in, still very slowly to full penetration. Valeri whimpered and I moaned. I thrust in and out several times and withdrew. I rubbed my cock against her clit again. Then back to her sweet bud.

“Was that you who stuck my cock up their ass toward the end there?” I asked as I moved my cock around her perfect star. She didn’t answer, but her little bud pulsed in and out. It push out hard when my penis pushed against it, and she moaned deeply. I pushed against her little hole several times, each time she echoed with a moan. She was very slick and wet from our combined juices.

I press once more, but this time I continued pressing. Her bud pushed out and in an instant I entered her. Valeri moaned so loud, with such a deep growl, that I thought I had hurt her, and I quickly pulled out.

“What are you doing?” she yelled immediately. “Stop teasing me!”

“I thought I hurt you!” I exclaimed. “You make a…”

She cut me off, “Don’t talk. Just do it.” It was an order. It was a command. Who was I to argue? I lined my cock up again with that pulsing, eager bud and pressed against it once again. There was almost no resistance. I slipped the knob of my cock past the firm muscle of her anus and she moaned with that same guttural deep voice. Her sphincter clamped down on my penis and made me moan right along with her. I pushed slowly in. It was sensational. I never felt anything so tight and so hot! I pushed gradually in until my groin pressed against the cheeks of Valeri’s butt. I held us together there, lost for the moment in the pure physical feeling, in the knowledge that I was buried in Valeri’s beautiful ass. This had been a day of unbelievable happenings, unimagined feelings and sensations. This moment, perhaps because it was just the two of us, perhaps because of its overwhelming intimacy, was the most wonderful and moving of them all. My revere was apparently shared.

Valeri said in a horse voice, almost a whisper, “It feel like you’re cock is so deep in me that…I can’t describe it, I can’t believe it.”

I began pulling out and she began to alternately tighten and relax her muscles. I couldn’t believe it either. When I was almost all the way out, when the head of my penis was half exposed, I reversed and push back in again. Both of us started a regular routine of moaning. It grew louder as I increased my rhythm.

Valeri couldn’t hold herself up any longer with me pushing against her. We duck-walked a few steps and she grabbed the weigh bench for support. Our pace continued to increase until I was slamming into her, our bodies making a slapping noise in chorus with my grunts and Valeri’s groans. I exploded moments before she did. I lost all coordination and thrust into her wildly. She bucked, and pushed back, until neither of us had anything left.

Valeri collapsed to her knees and her breasts dropped to the weigh bench, yanking my penis out as she dropped. I dropped to my knees and fell with my head against her sweating ass. My cheek was pressed against her cheek. Her bud, just inches in front of my eyes, was still open wide, pink and red descending into darkness down that tunnel where I had just unloaded. I watched as her well used bud pulsed and slowly closed.

I could do nothing but marvel at all that had taken place as I tried to catch my breath. Valeri spoke first.

“I could feel your sperm shoot into me, I didn’t know it could be like that,” she said, her breathing still somewhat labored. “It was amazing. And, to answer your question — no, that was not me, not my ass you fucked earlier. I don’t think I will tell you much about this day, but I just want you to know, what we just did was the first and only time I have done this. But I don’t think it will be the last”. I looked at her. There was that familiar, lovable, SEG again.

“So why won’t you tell me about today? You tricked me, KNOCKED ME OUT, shaved my crotch bald, used and abused me. You owe me! So out with it, give me all the sordid details, women!”

“No chance, Man!” she replied in kind. You were well rewarded for your… services. So just forget it. You get no information!” She was laughing at my plight.

I sat up, but not before licking her rosy bud one last time. She shuddered. I badgered her to give me details, names, and describe what took place, but she refused, laughing with delight as I continued to pester her. I had a pretty good idea of what went on, being that I participated completely, but I was really curious, and especially about who the other women were, and how many there were. My best guess was five. But Valeri would say nothing. I just didn’t know.

September 2018
« Feb