Ay: Nisan 2024

Stockings Do It Every Time

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Babes

Sandra was an ordinary type of girl, she was intelligent, but never went out of her way to impress anyone. She wore plain, but smart clothes. Not at all like the other girls I read about on Lit, she didn’t have big tits, she looked her age of 40, and wouldn’t win any beauty prizes. Not that I have anything against stunning girls with large tits. But how many of them are there out there? Millions, if Lit was anything to go by.

Ordinary doesn’t mean ugly.

What I liked about Sandra was she was friendly and cheerful. She would sometimes come over and visit the wife and they would chat for ages. When it came to women and their chats, I always found it easier to leave them to it.

On a few occasions the girls would go out for a drink. The night that changed everything was on one of those nights.

Sandra came over to collect the wife Ann. Ann wasn’t quite ready so I offered Sandra a drink while she waited. She was dressed well, nothing spectacular, a simple dress that came to just below the knees. I had never paid much attention to Sandra’s looks, of course there was the odd moment that everyman goes through, wondering what she would be like in bed. But hey…doesn’t make me a bad person. What caught my eye tonight was when she sat on the edge of the seat and crossed her legs. Her legs were covered in nylon, and as the dress tightened round her thigh, I could make out the suspenders holding up her stockings.

I always had a fetish for nylons and stockings, and when I seen this I was immediately looking at Sandra in a different light. My eyes locked on to her thighs, it may have been a few seconds, but it was enough for me to get caught. “Sean, what are you looking at”? I looked up and looked into her eyes trying to find an answer. Nothing was coming out my mouth. “Ehhhhhh, nothing, I was just daydreaming” was the best I could muster together. “Yeh right “ said Sandra. “It’s only my suspender belt, does it look stupid under this dress”? Oh shit what will I say. “Not at all, I just never imagined you to aksaray escort wear stockings and suspenders.” You prick, I called myself. “I better chase up Ann and see if she’s nearly ready.”

When I walked into our bedroom Ann was finishing off her hair, she was sitting on the bed with her back to me, looking in the mirror. Then she switched off the drier and stood up. She too was wearing stockings. Ann walked over towards me smiling. She gave me a gentle kiss and rubbed my cock, knowing full well the effect of her in stockings would have on me. My hands softly caressed her stocking thighs. Ann continued to rub my cock and balls. When my hand moved to cup her pussy she backed off. “Not yet Sean”.

“Jesus, Ann. You know what this does to me”. My cock was throbbing; I opened up my jeans and took it out. Slowly stroking it. “I need you Ann, let me look at you while I stroke my cock”.

“Wait till I come home, then we’ll take care of you”. Ann said smiling wickedly. I was about to put my cock back in my trousers when Sandra walked in. There was no hiding; my stiff cock was in clear view. Ann started laughing, I went bright red, and Sandra looked at my cock, then Ann. She smiled and said “WOW, lucky girl”. Ann laughed and told Sandra. “It’s the stockings, he can’t help himself when he sees me in them”. I was mortified; I hurriedly put away my cock, which takes time when it’s so bloody hard.

I left the two of them in the room to finish dressing. When they came back out, Ann came over and gave me a kiss. “I’ll see you when I get back”, she winked.

I spent the rest of the night watching TV. After a while I was nearly dozing off when I heard Ann coming in the front door. Sandra was with her. The two of them looked as though they had a good night. Ann offered Sandra a coffee.

The two girls sat on the couch, giggling about the events of the night. I was waiting for Sandra to leave, so I could have Ann all to myself. There was no sign of them quitting soon, so I decided to call it quits escort and retire for the night.

I must have been in bed for over an hour when I woke up needing a piss. Thinking no more of it, I got up and went to the bathroom. As I opened the door, there before me was Sandra, skirt hiked up and sitting on the loo, her stockings in full view. “Shit, I’m sorry Sandra, I didn’t realize”. She just stared at my cock, it was growing right before her eyes. She raised her fingers to her mouth and gestured for me to be quiet. Sandra then took my cock in her hand and began stroking it. The sight of her sitting there in her stockings was such a turn on. My hand stroked her thighs; they looked and felt fantastic. Suddenly Sandra’s mouth was on my cock, taking it deeper and deeper into her mouth. The warmth of her mouth on me was beautiful. My hips were slowly moving back and forth, I wanted to cum, but I knew I needed a piss before I could cum. I slowly withdrew my cock from her mouth and lifter her up from the seat. I whispered to her that I needed to pee. Sandra smiled, took hold of my cock and pointed it towards the toilet. As everyone knows it takes a few seconds to kick-start a piss when you have a hard on. With Sandra’s slow strokes, it wasn’t helping.

A few moments later, I managed to pee. “Sandra, are you ok in there” Ann called as she opened the door. There I was standing over the toilet with her friend dressed in only her bra and stockings holding my cock. Brazenly Sandra said, “I was helping Sean empty his bladder”. I just looked at Ann, trying to be as innocent as I could be in that situation as my piss continued to flow into the toilet. Sandra shook the last few drops but continued to hold my cock. “Bring him downstairs” Ann called.

Sandra led me downstairs by the cock. “Sean you sit there on the chair, Sandra, you sit beside me,” said Ann.

Ann laid her hand on Sandra’s knee and began stroking her stocking legs. “Do you want to see my stockings Sean?” said Ann. I simply nodded. Slowly Ann lifted kağıthane escort her dress. Revealing her legs inch by inch till she reached the lacy top. Sandra’s hand began stroking Ann’s legs. Trailing her finger up the inside of her thighs. Ann’s legs parted. Her smooth shaven pussy was opening up as Sandra’s fingers touched her lips. Ann’s eyes closed as Sandra continued to gently stroke her. Her hand continued to stroke Sandra’s legs. Sandra was looking over at me; she was licking her lips as Ann’s fingers entered her pussy.

I knelt in between Sandra and Ann, stroking both their legs. “Oh thank you God, thank you, thank you. Sandra’s toes came up to gently massage my balls. The feel of her nylon toes on my balls was driving me nuts.

Ann was breathing heavier; Sandra’s fingers were toying with her clit, going faster and faster. Ann responded by burying two fingers inside of Sandra’s pussy. The two of them were going to cum very, very soon. I spread Sandra’s pussy and flicked on her clit with my tongue as my wife’s fingers fucked her pussy. She let out a scream and pulled my head hard on to her cunt. I sucked on her pussy, taking her orgasm into my mouth, feeling her juices explode in my face.

Ann was panting heavier, yelling for me to fuck her. She held her legs wide open; Sandra grabbed my cock and entered it into my wife’s pussy. “Fuck me, Fuck me”, she screamed. My cock rammed into her wet pussy, burying itself deep inside. It only took about 6 thrusts before I felt Ann’s cunt muscles tighten around my cock. “YEESSSSSSSS”. OHH YESSSSS…Oh Fuck, Oh Fuck” Ann was spurting her juices from her cunt.

I had to drink from her. I let my tongue lap up her wet pussy. “Suck his cock…Sandra”. Sandra lay on her back and positioned herself under me, taking my big fat cock in her mouth. As she slurped on my cock, I felt Ann’s nylon legs wrap around my neck. Sandra pumped me fast with her mouth taking me deep. Ann’s legs tightened at the same time as my balls, and seconds later I was drowning Sandra’s mouth with my cum. I could feel her swallowing and swallowing, then lick the lasts drops from me.

It was absolutely fantastic; I hadn’t even touched a tit yet. Did I care? Not at all. What’s the rush?

Any feedback is deeply appreciated.

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Angela: The Lettered Jacket Ch. 01

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Anal

Strung up as she was, firmly attached to the harnesses on the rack, arms and legs wide apart, Angela pleaded, “Please, Tim, not The Lettered Jacket, please?”

Tim ignored her pleas and cries, instead slapping hard her already raw butt. Angela screamed, interspersing in between her repeated pleas. Tim slapped her hard again and then her small breasts. “Modeling you want as a career, modeling is what you will be doing tonight.” Angela screamed and continued to beg. One hard slap between her legs, so hard that it almost drove her lovely clit into her hips convinced her. Meekly, she acceded to Tim’s demand.

Tim untied her and lowered her, approving of her acceptance. He tossed her a pair of high heel shoes and a short, wide, pleated skirt to wear. Then came The Lettered Jacket. It was a normal jacket, of a coarse and sturdy fabric, covering her torso and arms, from her shoulders all the way just past her waist, and with snaps that were almost impossible to unlatch unless one really understood how they worked.

Only that The Lettered Jacket had an interesting feature. Emblazoned boldly across the etiler escort back, in bright optic yellow letters that glowed in the dark, were the words in large block letters, ‘RAPE ME “.

Angela quivered and trembled, stumbling as Tim led her past the kitchen, stopping at the refrigerator. He reached for the butter, grabbed a scoop in his fingers, and shoved them deep into her ass, “Whore, this will make it easier for your guests.” Angela cried quietly, pleading one last time. It was to no avail: he was already pulling her down the driveway and into the car. She was crying softly. He ordered her to shut up. He drove to the meanest inner part of the city, stopped the car in a dark corner, and commanded her to get out. “And walk slowly, hold your body straight, and stop that trembling.” Angela did as best she could, walking down the dark street, turning into another one that was better lit.

Scarcely had she walked a block that the first man read her sign on the back of The Lettered Jacket and availed himself of the opportunity. He simply walked up behind her, grabbed her from behind, bent escorts her over, and shoved a huge cock up her ass, pumping wildly as Angela screamed. He groped to get his hands under The Lettered Jacket to grab her tits but could not reach in, so he simply squeezed them from the outside. His other hand, large and coarse and not all that clean viciously attacked her clit, fingering her without mercy, until he finally filled her with his load, extracted himself, and released her, going on his merry way as if nothing had happened.

And so, throughout the course of the night, men of all walks of life, of all sizes and ages, the kind of men that hang out at night in mean sections of cities even on a Sunday night, took advantage of the sign on the back of The Lettered Jacket, filling her ass and pussy with their loads, sometimes one alone, at other times two or three at once, filling her mouth as well, and if she was already taken all at once, masturbating to spray Angela’s pretty face and long, blond hair.

When daylight broke on Monday morning, Angela made her way back home. Stumbling into the bagcilar escort bedroom, she lay next to Tim. He turned in his bed, awakened by her cries as she clung next to him. He looked at her. “So, whore, how did it feel to be disobedient with me?”

Angela cried. She begged his forgiveness, promising next time to be even more submissive and obedient while on the rack. He looked at her and judged her to be sincere and repentant.

“Good. Today I will be flying back home to my doting wife and loving kids, and you will go straight to work without showering. And tonight you will go to your support group and share your experience with them. But next time you disobey me, instead of just one Sunday night, instead you will be set loose there from Friday evening to Monday dawn, is that clear?”

Angela nodded. She promised to be ever so good from now on, to be obedient and submissive and totally accepting of all Tim asked of her. She cuddled up to Tim and kissed him softly, thanking him for being so stern and so strict with her: she understood he was doing it for her own good, to break and train her completely.

And with that, she dressed and happily went off to work, the ejaculate of countless men sloshing around and dripping from her full stomach, pussy, and ass, contained as best it could by a procession of sanitary napkins all day.

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Steven Miller’s Financial Demise Ch. 01

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Big Ass

Reparations

For most white people, their knee-jerk, conditioned response at the mere mention of the word reparations is to scream, “My family never owned any slaves. I’m not paying any reparations! You Blacks need to just get over it, slavery was in the past, let it go for Christ’s sake.” For Steven Miller, Steven to most, his perceptions were completely opposite. Steven had a deep-seated, compelling desire to pay for the sins of his hypothetical father; he longed to be the nasty pet of a sadistic Ebony Goddess who would subject him to her erotic demands. Given that Iceland didn’t have a stake in the Trans Atlantic Slave trade and his ancestors more than likely had no direct connection to the enslavement of any Africans, Steven’s “white guilt” was more reminiscent of a global and pervasive trend by Caucasian men to sexually submit to people whose origins are from the motherland.

Around the globe, in what seems to be staggering numbers that cannot be dismissed as coincidental or inconsequential, white men feel a compulsion, a driving need to become “enslaved” to black people. Of course, the word enslaved is not accurate. It’s almost comical how white people have grafted the meaning of the word slavery to be equated to their kinky fetishes but it’s nothing more than another example of their arrogance and ability to manipulate people and situations in order to validate their perceptions. True slavery, what my ancestors endured was not a sexual fetish or voluntary, it was dehumanizing and incomprehensible.

For Steven, his desires revolved around financial servitude and humiliation. For him, the two concepts were intimately and erotically tied. For him, to pay a woman to degrade and shame him was what gave him a thrill, what aroused him. He loved to be taunted, tormented, teased, and tortured and he loved to pay for it. It’s an interesting dynamic because money does equal gungoren escort power in Western society and the fact that he had it and women wanted it meant that he had control over them. Yes, he was giving them money but he was ultimately pulling the strings. Every time he paid a woman to make him do some stupid or embarrassing task, every time he became a woman’s benefactor and paid her bills, she became dependent upon him.

Steven loved that. He loved the fact that women needed him for not only amusement but also in a vicious cycle of dependence. When these women were in financial trouble, rather than learning to budget and survive on their own, rather than using their brains and their inherent talents to make money, he would write a check and instantly, he assumed the role of the benefactor and they would have to fulfill his fantasies of degradation and give him all the attention he craved and wanted. Steven capitalized on the women who saw themselves as objects. He preyed on women who felt their value was in being desired by men, that their beauty was a bargaining chip with a dollar value. He pursued women who were shallow and superficial and who only saw dollar signs when they looked at his pathetic, laughably small cock.

Steven made a huge mistake when he approached me about giving me a tribute. Little did he know that it was to be the biggest mistake of his life, one that would leave him bankrupt, financially impoverished and destitute. When he first approached me some years ago, I told him that I had no interest in receiving a tribute, that I was not for sale. He followed my work and approached me again recently, asking to give me a tribute. As before, my response was the same as it is every time a stranger asks to give me an unsolicited gift or money. That wasn’t sufficient for him however. He sat at home, fantasizing about being my submissive, about istanbul escorts me making him do unspeakable, perverted things. He was drawn to my unapologetic commentary on race and racism, my keen insight into the minds of submissive white men, my intensity, and, of course, my beautiful brown skin and strong African features.

Not one to take rejection well, Steven began his efforts to lure me with promises of money. Rather than attempting to get to know me, forgoing any efforts to impress me or appeal to my intellect and sensibilities to become my submissive, he dangled threats and promises of money, telling me of how he could make my life comfortable, spoil and pamper me with nothing expected of me in return. Never in his life had he ever encountered a woman like me. It was unfathomable to him that I didn’t want or need his money. It was clear to me, behind his desires of being forced to pay, that he believed that all women were objects to be purchased, that every woman had a tipping point, a certain dollar amount that would entice them to conform to his twisted fantasies.

The fact that his fantasies were to be mistreated and abused were irrelevant; it was money that was the carrot that he dangled in front of women’s faces and there was no way in hell I was going to let him manipulate or control me in that way. What Steven didn’t get, what he couldn’t comprehend is that I am inherently superior. I’m far superior to those women who sell their souls for money or to have a bill paid. I have integrity; I cannot be purchased like an item on the shelf and certainly not like a hooker on the street corner. I am a divinely gifted, magnificent, African queen, worthy of praise, honor, and worship befitting only of a Goddess who walks the earth, who is proud of her African heritage, and who enjoys and takes pleasure in reducing white men to sniveling, groveling, sissy bayrampasa escort faggot, debased pigs.

I planned on manipulating Steven, controlling him to the point where he was so entirely devoted to me, where I became his religion, that not only would he give me every penny he could, but that he would deny himself the necessities of life in order to lavish me with gifts and money. I intended to make him relinquish all his other money whores and get him to a point where he not only lived for me, that he would work for me, giving me his entire paycheck with the hopes that I would give him enough to allow him to survive. I wanted him to endure psychological pain for my amusement, to drain his wallet to not only finance my company but to donate to the causes and charities that would benefit people of African descent around the globe.

Steven was to become the major backer that would invest in the production of my book that would heal Black relationships and divest white people of their fallacy of white supremacy. He would be the money source that would rebuild my website and make it even bigger and better than it was before. I calculated that if freed slaves were to have gotten the 40 acres and a mule that we were promised at the end of slavery, that it would equate to about $250,000 dollars in today’s economy. That would be just the tip of the iceberg that I intended to make Steven pay, just a drop in the bucket. I wanted him to pay for my great grandmother who had to hold her tongue while she was brutally gang raped by disgusting white men who robbed her of her innocence. He would pay for the way Blacks hung from trees like strange fruit, lynched for the entertainment of whites who regarded Blacks as 3/5th of a human being, deserving of inhumane enslavement.

It was my full intention to make Mr. Miller pay for the unearned privilege and position he got just by virtue of being white and male and to reduce him to his true place, beneath my sacred foot, serving not as my slave but as my pet and my possession, driven to please me and to crave my acknowledgment and praise as a good sub and to pay for it, to pay dearly . . . with his life.

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Hard Time Wth Mom

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Anal

I wear a urinal device under my pants. It’s all synthetic rubber. Basically, it’s a sheath (tube), like a condom, that fits over the penis, connects to a long tube, and ends in a bag where the urine is collected. I wear it because it’s easier than to go to the bathroom every time. I can just sit and go as needed. It’s easier on my mom.

There’s one drawback to the sheath. I need to have an erection or be three-quarters hard for it to fit on easily and snuggly. My mom tried putting it on when I was soft a few times but it would either fall off easily or be too loose and make it leak.

So, I resigned myself to concentrating on getting myself hard before my mom would put the sheath on. It was unspoken and she knew that when I asked to wait, that I needed to make myself hard. She understood and never questioned me. I would concentrate about something hot and erotic and I would get hard in under five minutes. When mom saw I was fully hard, she’d put the sheath on. This plan worked well up until recently.

It began like any other day. I got up, ate breakfast, and then took a rest for two hours before getting fully dressed.

After resting two hours, it was time to get up. Mom bathed me and was ready to put the sheath on. I got my penis half hard and she was set to put it on. But it had gotten fully soft in those few moments!

Mom said, “Well, let’s get it on Joe.” Noticing that I was soft she said, “Hmm, it’s soft now. I’ll try to get it on this way and hope it works.”

She spread the sheath open and pushed it over the tip of my penis and it slipped on. “Good, it fit,” Mom said. She put my pants and started to close my zipper, when my penis suddenly fell out of the sheath.

Mom said, “Darn it, thought it worked. Let’s try again.” Three more tries and we gave up.

I had to get hard. I told her to give some time and she agreed. I tried for ten minutes to get hard, to no avail. Mom kept looking under the towel every few minutes to check on my erection. It was getting late and we were both frustrated.

“Let’s try it again. You’re slightly hard,” Mom said. I agreed. She got it on but it felt loose and tight at the same time due to my being soft.

I said to mom, “It just won’t fit on correctly. And I need it to go hard.” Mom replied,

“Joe sex hikayeleri I don’t know what to do and I’m going to be late for the bank, which close in forty-five minutes.”

Mom tried fitting on again and when again I wasn’t erect, she sighed in frustration. I finally said, “Mom try rubbing it with the towel a little until I get hard.” She looked at me, a bit unsure if she should do it.

“Mom, it’s the only way. I can’t get it hard” I told her. She finally and reluctantly agreed to do it.

Mom slowly picked up the towel in her hands. Then, she pushed the towel into her palm, molding it to her open hand. Slowly she moved her hand toward my soft penis. Finally, she cupped my penis in her hand but through the towel. She closed her hand around my penis and gently stood my penis up.

Now mom used both hands and began kneading my penis. Oh man, it felt great! The towel was soft, yet slightly rough at the same time. I could feel each raised area on the patterned towel as it rubbed against my penis. And she applied a firm yet gentle squeezing grasp around my soft penis.

After a minute of this, I finally felt the stirrings of an erection. I got about one quarter hard. Mom felt it and let go. I told her I needed to be fully hard for it to work. She thought about it and agreed to rub some more.

Back to rubbing she went. Back and forth she rubbed. The skin on my penis was being twisted this way and that. She squeezed, then loosened her grasp, squeezed, relaxed, squeezed, relaxed. I could lay there all day like this. But all good things need to come to an end. In this case, five minutes.

“Almost there, Joe. You’re nice and hard. It should go on really easy now,” mom said.

I was fully erect now and mom gave it a few squeezes to be certain. Those few squeezes put me over the edge and I quickly told her to put the sheath. She asked, “What’s the hurry, Joe?” as she slide it over my erect penis. Just in time. As soon as it was snug tight, I came into the sheath. Luckily, it’s opaque and mom couldn’t see my cum.

She closed my pants and pulled up my zipper. I got fully dressed and up in my wheelchair.

Before going to the bank, she got me all setup at the computer. She had enough time to get to the bank.

I was still porno hikayeleri hard and horny after that experience. So, I found some more porn. I found two hot ones of older women; one woman giving a guy a long, sensual blowjob and deepthroat, the other woman giving a guy a long handjob. Thinking of mom getting me off and the videos, made me cum several more times.

***************

The next few weeks, we repeated the same process as we did that first day. Mom would rub my penis until I was fully erect. She would rub for about ten minutes each time. And I always ended up cumming into the sheath, unbeknownst to her. She must’ve seen the cum residue but never knew that it was due to her hands.

About a month later, we were still do the rubbing ritual. But this time was different.

She got the towel and was rubbing me like usual. I got hard and she kept rubbing. I was about to cum and quickly told her to get the sheath on.

Mom didn’t hear me correctly and kept rubbing. “Hurry mom! I’m about to…uh oh…too late!” I exclaimed. Too late. My cock erupted like a fire hose, on and on and on. I soaked through the towel and she felt it in her hands, slippery and wet.

I caught her off guard and she didn’t know what to do. She pulled the towel off, while I was still cumming. I shot cum all over her hands, the sheath, which rested between my legs, and all over the bed between my legs.

It finally stopped and mom stood there in shock. “Oh, I’m so sorry mom!!” I yelled. She just said, “It’s okay Joe. Cumming is a natural part of life and I guess I rubbed you a bit too much. Now let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

She went into the bathroom and returned with a towel and some damp wash cloths. She came over and started wiping me and the bed clean. After a few minutes, the mess was almost cleaned up and she jokingly said, “Wow Joe! You had a lot of sperm built up there guy!”

Now her hair was getting in her mouth due to her cleaning and she was going to wipe her mouth with her hand. I just noticed that her fingers were covered in my cum. She now had her forefinger in her mouth to get the hair out. I clearly saw the cum on and in her mouth. She licked her lip with her tongue and asked, “What’s that odd taste in my mouth?”

She pulled her seks hikayeleri finger out of her mouth and looked at her hand. She stopped in shock as she realized the taste in her mouth was my cum. “Oh my God! It’s your cum in my mouth. I need to clean myself up. Be right back!” as she went to the bathroom and closed the door.

I was left naked from the waist down with a still hard erection.

Mom took a while and she returned ten minutes later. I couldn’t see her until she came around the bed. She was completely naked! Her 36DD tits were swaying and her ass jiggled slightly as she walked toward me.

She climbed on the bed as she licked her fingers clean. “Hi Joe. I’ve been thinking about what just happened here. I was thinking how good your long, hard cock felt in my hands. How you came in my my hands. How your cum tasted. I loved it! Did you like it, Son?”

I replied, “Yes mom, it felt great.”

“In that case, we’ll both enjoy this even more!” she exclaimed. She then dove for my cock and slid her mouth over it. In one swift motion, she engulfed my whole cock, deep down her throat. She swallowed several times, then lifted up until just the tip was in her mouth, and she sucked and licked the tip. She repeated this process until I came and filled her mouth with my cum. As she licked her lips and swallowed my cum, she said, “Now you’ll stay hard for me for a while.”

Mom really surprised me when she climbed over my legs and straddled my pelvis. She grabbed my cock and rubbed it up and down over her wet, hairy slit. It tickled my cock. Then she put just the head of my cock into her about an inch. It felt awesome!

Mom said, “I haven’t had a long, hard, thick cock in my tight pussy in years. And it’s been here all along. We both need this. Now get ready for the ride of your life!” She raised her pelvis up, aimed my still embedded cock better, and bam!! She took me to the hilt into her hot, wet, tight pussy. Oh, it was great! We both let out a soft moan. Then she slowly went up on my cock, then down, up, down. She went slow for a few minutes.

She started picking up the pace. Up and down. Faster and harder. The bed was shaking and the springs were jumping everywhere. “Oh yesss! Oh JOE!! I love fucking your hard cock, stretching my pussy wide!”

After ten more minutes of furious fucking, we both came. I filled her up with my cum (she’s fixed…no worries). She collapsed on my chest, my cock still in her pussy. “Oh Joe, we have to do this everyday,” she said, as she fell asleep right there.

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Crosswinds Pt. 02 – Dark Currents Ch. 07

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Babes

***Author’s Note: Series contains strong elements of incest.***

5 YEARS AGO

Maddi’s hand trembled as her knuckle banged against her mother’s front door. She couldn’t explain her nervousness and felt sick with an overwhelming urge to run back to her car. The nipping winter wind flipped Maddi’s skirt over her hips. It allowed the bitter cold a chance to pierce the thin layer of pantyhose-she shivered as she adjusted herself.

“Maddi?” The door creaked open, and Rochelle peered down at her slight daughter. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Um,” Maddi turned away. She kicked, and she scuffed her shoes against the concrete steps. “C-can I ask you something?”

Rochelle sighed. “Of course, honey.” She blushed and shook her head. “Gosh, I’m sorry. Please come in; you’re shivering.”

“Thanks,” Maddi whispered under her breath with relief. She let Rochelle lead her to the study down the hall. Although it seemed silly to her, Maddi always checked the picture frames on the wall. The photo of her and Diana on the beach never ceased to make her smile. She sat modestly in the couch’s corner with her limbs drawn in her lap, taking up as little space as possible. “So,” she started.

“Yes?” Rochelle sat across from her, cross-legged wearing a striking crimson pantsuit. Her shin kicked, and pant leg rose, revealing her barefoot. The contrast did much to set Maddi wasn’t at ease.

“Um,” Maddi bit her lip. “So, I’m turning 18 next month.”

“I know, Maddi.” Rochelle smiled. “Did you want something special for your birthday?”

“Actually, yes.” Maddi blurted. “Can I move in with you?”

Rochelle frowned. Her daughter’s request took the air out of the room. “What does your mother think of this? I thought you were happy at home.”

“No,” Maddi chuckled nervously. “She hates me. She hates me because she hates you.”

“I’m sorry,” Rochelle soothed, reaching for a tissue box on the coffee table. “Here, sweetheart. Dry your eyes.” She paused a moment to let Maddi recover. “I know your life is hard because of the mess I’ve made. I think I can help through it. Just hang out here, honey.” She made her way back down the hall before turning back. “Do you still like honey in your tea?”

Maddi nodded.

As Rochelle disappeared into the kitchen, Maddi relished in the silence. She found it boldly different than the kind of quiet resentment she was accustomed. Linda LaRossa was a struggling 19-year old manager at a dry cleaner when Rochelle Masters came in to pick up a few shirts. The young and vibrant futanari decided she couldn’t leave without the girl’s number, and after a whirlwind series of dates, Linda found herself hopelessly in love with Rochelle. Many of those dates ended with Linda’s panties cast aside in the backseat of her girlfriend’s car, her legs wrapped around Rochelle’s thrusting hips.

Maddi knew the whole story of how her futa-mom refused to marry her mom. Despite never having to pay a cent for housing, Linda seemed to redirect her bitterness toward Maddi. Now on the cusp of adulthood, she was ready to leave the home of the mom that didn’t want her in the first place.

“She’s not going to let you move in.” Diana’s soft voice warned from the dark doorway. “You know that, right?”

“Hey, Di.” Maddi sighed.

“She doesn’t even want the kids that already live here. No way she’ll let any more of her bastards in.”

Maddi finally looked up and gasped. “Oh my god, what happened to you?” She popped to her feet and rushed to her sister. As Maddi got closer, she saw that Diana’s blackeye was worst than she thought.

“A girl in gym class thought I was staring at her in the locker room,” Diana said. Her frame shrank, and she cast her eyes down. “And, I guess I wasn’t tucking myself probably.”

“So she saw you had a hard-on. That’s such a shitty excuse to hit you, Di.” Maddi scowled.

Diana sobbed. She placed her bruised face in Maddi’s outstretched palm. “I’m so sick of being afraid of these monsters. I’m going to make them all sorry one day.”

“It’ll all be okay, Di.” Maddi kissed her sister’s healthy cheek while she whispered in her ear. “Two more years and you’ll be out of high school. We can go to Brentwood Community College together, and everything will be fine-”

Diana tore away from Maddi. Her face raged with a boiling red hue. “Everything will NOT be fine,” She raced back to up the stairs with a steady stomp, capping her exit by slamming her bedroom door.

“Di,” Maddi sighed.

“What did I miss?” Rochelle returned shortly after with a pair of mugs. She set them down and turned back to Maddi. “Was that Diana?” Once Maddi confirmed, Rochelle shook her head. “That girl.”

“Have you seen her eye?” Maddi asked.

Rochelle raised her golden brow as she passed her a printed sheet of paper. “Yeah, it’s a shiner for sure. Anyhow, here’s a listing of properties near your college. There’s one I like that’s only a ten-minute drive.”

“So,” Maddi plopped down in defeat. “I can’t move in?”

“Look at it this way, Maddi.” sex hikayeleri Rochelle reasoned. “Christy doesn’t deal with change well. Not to mention Diana is on the ‘back nine’ of puberty, and she’s territorial. I don’t want to distract you from your studies.”

“Di and I are best friends.” Maddi retorted. “We’ve always gotten along.”

“I know,” Rochelle sighed with discomfort. “You dote on her. It’s sweet, but you know what she’s going through with futa puberty. All that testosterone and estrogen are fighting for your brain’s attention. And she has a harder time than most with all the fights she’s getting into.”

Maddi grew angry. “Is she fighting, or is she being bullied?”

Rochelle scoffed. “Is that what she told you? The girl that gave her that black eye wouldn’t return Diana’s advances. Your sister apparently groped that girl before getting slugged for her trouble.”

“Oh,” Maddi looked away.

Rochelle softened her tone. “Listen, I know you love Diana. But the girl lies a lot. I don’t know why, but she always has.”

“Mom,” Maddi huffed, unsure of whether to go there. “Do you love us?”

Heartbroken, Rochelle’s jaw dropped. “Madison, I am so sorry I’ve ever made you question that.”

Maddi laughed it off. “I-it’s okay. Stupid question, of course, you do.”

Rochelle studied her daughter’s sullen face for a moment before reaching into her suit pocket. “I was thinking about doing this anyway.” She carefully placed the key in Maddi’s hand. “You’ve always been so mature for your age, Madison. Even though you’re getting your own house, you are always welcomed here. No more knocking. Use your key.”

“Mom…”

—

Dr. Dominika Bykov reclined in the armchair in her study. The seat of newly upholstered ivory-colored leather was oversized like a throne. As she hands cupped a tiny porcelain mug of steaming green tea, the woman’s regal limbs seemed longer.

Her lips puckered and blew a careful breeze over the steaming pool before she began. “Firstly, l cannot express to you both how sorry I was to hear about your mother. She was a true pioneer for our kind.” The sisters mewed out their thanks, and Dr. Bykov allowed a moment of silence before she continued. “Diana, your sudden interest in fulfilling your mother’s legacy caught us off guard here. Had we known before the semester started, I could have easily boarded the two of you in the same dorm. But all the same, it’ll take some time before I can move you to campus. I assume you’ll want to room together.”

“Yes,” Diana nodded just as Maddi said “No,”

“Hrm,” Dr. Bykov cocked her head while studying the contrast in her student’s attitudes. She sipped her tea. “Then we’ll keep things the way they are for now. I’ll expect you to work extra diligently to make for your late start, young Miss Diana. Understood?”

“Of course, Chancellor.” Diana smiled.

Dr. Bykov smiled. “Very good. You may leave, Diana.”

Diana shot Maddi and smirk before she stood. “I’ll wait for you outside,” She winked.

As the door closed, Dr. Bykov let a frustrated sigh from her nostrils. “Madison, I hate to put another task on your shoulders, but please ensure your sister keeps her grades up. It’s a rare exception for Moringa to accept a student without college credit that didn’t even apply. She’s exhausted every privilege the Masters family name affords her.”

“I understand,” Maddi shifted in her seat. “We’re not very close-since Mom died. But I can try,”

“Trying is all we can hope,” The Chancellor grinned. “Your main goal is to assist with young Ashley Washington’s grooming. She’ll be the new face of young futanari once you graduate. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Masters.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.” Maddi kept her voice low as she excused herself. Even though she could feel Dr. Bykov’s piercing eyes on her back, she didn’t wince again until the woman called her name again.

“Madison,” Dr. Bykov’s voice grew stern. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

Perplexed, Maddi stammered before shaking her head.

“Do I have to remind you of the school’s policy against intimacy?” Dr. Bykov arched her back as she crossed her legs. She waited for Maddi to shake her head again before pressing. “So, there isn’t anything you’d like to confess?”

“No, Chancellor.” Maddi lowered her head.

Dominika let her eyes roam over Maddi’s trembling frame. She smiled. “Very well. Have a good day, Maddi.”

—

Diana took her eyes off the administration building’s entrance for a split-second to ogle a nameless co-ed as a tan, athletic girl jiggled into the Peppermint House. “Now that has got to be the dorm where all the athletes live,” She thought aloud. “I’ll have to visit them soon. I’m sure they’ll love me.” Then Maddi’s lissome figure caught her eye. “HEY! Wait up!”

“What do you want?” Maddi snapped. She maintained her hurried pace.

“Nice jeans, Maddi.” Diana scowled. “Jeans and a t-shirt. I thought I told you to wear something slutty.”

Then Maddi spun porno hikayeleri around on her heel and squared up on her pursuer. “So?” She snapped.

“Unbelievable.” Diana shook her head. “You fucking coward. I bet you lost your nerve as soon as you busted your nut last night.”

“I always feel guilty after I come when you’re involved.” Maddi bemoaned.

“Can’t relate,” Diana said. “I don’t feel bad about it anymore. I know it’s wrong, and that fact makes me come soooo much harder.” She whined the last words and squeezed her thick thighs together. The girl shivered. “But, I never feel bad afterward.”

“Because you’re a sociopath.” Maddi spat.

Diana cackled. “And what does it say about you putting your dick in my mouth?”

“I don’t know,” Maddi sighed. She cast her defeated face at the ground. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Well, it’s none of my concern,” Diana cut in. “You can mull that over while I’m plowing your guts tonight,”

Maddi was equal-parts disgusted and titillated with Diana’s crass imagery, but she feigned a revolted glare nonetheless.

Diana scanned the emptying campus green and grinned when she came across the winding path away from Moringa. “Last night was hot, Maddi.” She licked her lips. “I should take you against the wall. That can be our spot.”

“No,” Maddi looked around. “We can’t do it here. Dr. Bykov asked me some weird questions. I think she’s knows something.”

“Have it your way, Miss Worry Wort.” The younger sister teased. “Let’s get something to eat.”

—

“You look good, Maddi.” Diana shared a rare compliment as she soaked in the dark, romantic atmosphere of the modest restaurant. The sisters sat at a corner table that seemed too small.

“Thank you,” Maddi replied under her breath. The reply was kneejerk; it startled her that it came out so lovely. Diana didn’t deserve it, Maddi reasoned.

“I should thank you, Maddi.” Diana sighed. With a flimsy fork of tarnished chrome, she poked at the next pile of deep red morsels in the bowl between them. “I haven’t had tuna sashimi in over a year. Thanks for letting me choose dinner.”

Maddi watched the prongs sink into the fleshy tuna. Diana raised the meat to her pursed lips, cradling it on her tongue before swallowing, barely even chewing. The entire scene seemed wholly pornographic to Maddi. “All the seafood is very fresh in Moringa. I figured you would like it.”

Diana smirked. “Remember right before we planned to knock all of those girls up, we’d pig out on tuna sushi because we read it would raise our sperm count?”

“I remember watching you pig out.” Maddi corrected. “I binged on selenium and zinc supplements while you enjoyed yourself.”

“Fair enough.” Diana jabbed her utensil at Maddi. “But I have hyperspermia like lots of futa. We didn’t have to do that. But we did because we wanted to be together.” She paused a moment to enjoy the silence-and the faint clanking of glasses from other diners. “This is what sharing this tuna bowl with you means to me, Maddi.”

“You’ve been nice to me today.” Maddi raised her brow. “Why? I thought you were planning to ravage me.”

“I am,” Diana bit her lip. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. We can’t unring a bell, Maddi. We’ve crossed a heinous line. But since we’re here, we might as well enjoy ourselves-as sisters-as lovers. Diana leaned deeply across the cramped table to whisper. “As parents.”

Maddi trembled. She let go of the breath she wasn’t aware she held and pulled away from the sweet scent of Diana’s skin. “You think I wanna raise a child with you? In the same house?” Her eyes sharpened. “What would stop you from burning it down, Diana?”

Diana’s became reflecting pools of emerald as she fought tears. “I deserve that. I anticipated you’d say something like that.” She reclined to search her purse that hung on her chair. “I brought you a present.” Diana’s grim announcement came with her sliding a slender box across the table.

“What is it?” Maddi’s eyes fixed on the white box tied with a pink ribbon.

Diana’s voice lowered. “Whenever you feel the need for revenge, I’ll let you run this across my throat. The blade is serrated. I’ll go painfully.”

Maddi’s jaw dropped. She said nothing.

“The handle is textured so that it won’t take your trace your fingerprints.” Diana sucked in a final breath of discomfort. “And there’s even a signed suicide note inside. You’ll get away with it.”

“I-I-” Maddi shook her head in disbelief. Yet she knew everything Diana said about the ominous box was true.

Now Diana gazed mournfully across the table. “Maddi, there’s going to be nights when I’m coming to come inside you three or four times. I’ll fall fast asleep-until,”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Maddi snapped. She rushed the box down into her lap. Her pulse pounded. “Anything else.”

“There’s only one other thing I want to talk about,” Diana grinned. “When are you going to give in? If you’re not going to kill me, you might as well date me.” She bounced seks hikayeleri in her seat like a schoolgirl just before homecoming. “You’re grossly underweight, and it’ll be a task getting you pregnant.” Then her voice hushed. She licked her lips as her eyes widened. “What a labor of love for us to try.”

“Okay,” Maddi gasped. “You need to stop. I don’t want to alter our agreement. Let’s keep it simple, Diana. I’ll let you-” Maddi shuddered as her cock twitched. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me as long as you go away.”

Seemingly heartbroken, Diana sighed. “Have it your way, then. Tonight.” She back and dramatically swung her arms. Her eyes looked down to survey the remaining food-only a few morsels of seaweed salad at the bottom of the plain crimson bowl. “I’m still hungry.” She pouted.

“Excuse me,” Maddi rose on wobbling legs. She sprinted across the restaurant to a tight hallway, inconspicuously marked “Washroom.”

—

Maddi breathed a sigh of relief as the bathroom door closed. The room provided two stalls with corresponding sinks with mirrors a few feet across. It was in one of those mirrors that she caught a side view of her reflection before she disappeared into the farthest stall. Maddi’s face seemed healthy yet tired.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Maddi whispered. She slid the stall lock before sitting down. Even the thought of Diana’s body pressed against her riddled her body with shivers. As her jeans rolled down her hips, what she saw mortified her. Just beyond her rigid cock, a puddle of stickiness dripped off her soaked panties. Her fingers met the puffy, aching lips. She stroked the flesh. Then her clit throbbed for attention, and Maddi obliged, pressing her sweet button with two firm fingers.

“Cursed,” She said, a tear trickled down her shut eyes. “God, please let me get pregnant tonight so that I can be rid of her.” She sat with her prayer for a moment in disbelief that she uttered it.

But as her trembling fingers undid the latch, the door flew out of her hand. Diana nearly ripped the flimsy stall door off their hinges as she pushed Maddi back against the narrow bowl. Maddi felt the perverse sickness churn in her stomach. She recognized the primal glare in Diana’s evil, emerald eyes.

“I can’t wait,” Diana grunted. She grabbed at the bulge throbbing under her dress.

Maddi nodded, swallowing back the rising sick in her throat. Her pants already unbuckled, she exposed herself just below the hips. She winced under Diana’s sturdy grip. She spun Maddi around by her bony ass and pinned her arms to the wall. “Di?!?” Maddi’s breathless voice questioned her sister’s fingers went to work.

“I knew it. You’ve been wet for me the whole time, you disgusting slut.” Diana hissed as she traced a finger around Maddi’s dripping sex.

“I know,” Tears flowed from Maddi’s suddenly swollen cheeks. She yawned her shaky legs across the stall’s length. With a careful hand, Maddi palmed her rigid cock as not to touch the cold, porcelain in front of her. She winced and sniffled once she heard Diana hock and spit-followed by the sound of slathering the thick saliva on her cock. “I AM DISGUSTING.” Her voice squeaked as she sobbed. Then the pressure of Diana’s cockhead kissing her slit silenced her. Maddi’s mouth hung, her eyes flushed a final rush of tears as they closed. As her sister slowly penetrated her, Maddi could only resist soothing her own cock for a few moments.

“Fi-fi-finally!” Diana dug her nails into Maddi’s hips. She squeezed, scrapping and clawing at her sister’s skin until the angular pink marks turned red. With a final thrust, Diana buried her entire eight inches inside Maddi. She pumped fast-hard. Low husky grunts forced themselves out Diana’s throat as she let her swollen balls bruise Maddi’s thigh.

As Diana rocked her body, Maddi’s head spun. Then, she lost control of her breathing. She knew she was about to have one of those fast, furious climaxes, far too quick to enjoy. She looked down, amazed at how much thick precum glazed her sticky fingers. ‘Figures,’ she thought. Her toes curled inside her flat shoes as her body stiffened.

“Nnngh!” Maddi whimpered.

“A-are you coming, Madison?” Diana moaned between thrusts. Her hand snaked and joined Maddi’s on her sister’s cock. Not a moment too soon. “I can feel it,” Diana hissed. “My big sister’s dick is about to blow.”

“Mmhmm!” Maddi cried.

“Do it!” Diana’s moaned grew louder. “In my hand, Mads.” Her palm slipped just below Maddi’s cock. “In your baby sister’s hand, you freak!” She held it there.

That was it, for Madison. The first blast from her spurting futa-dick splashed the dirty tiled-wall above the toilet. Then her spasming cock bubbled over and filled Diana’s cupped palm. Maddi sighed loudly as her climax subsided. Her fragile body went limp in Diana’s clutches for a moment before she steadied herself on the toilet.

“Fucking filthy wench,” Diana groaned. She carefully craned her cum-filled hand down until she pushed it inside her pussy. Then with two fingers, she fucked herself gleefully. Globs of Maddi’s cum plopped from Diana’s blonde folds and soaked into her dress. Diana shuddered. She clamped around her waist again as her thrusting slowed. “You’re about to get what’s coming to you.” She cried.

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Happy New Year, Mom!

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Blowjob

This story is the sole property of Spanker Sam. It cannot be reproduced and/or altered. Nor can it be distributed to any other site, free or pay, without the express permission of the author.

Copyright: 2004 all rights reserved.

* * * * *

I had decided to spend New Years Eve with my mom. I had been between girlfriends and she was home all by herself. We had enjoyed dinner and by the time we watched the ball drop, we had finished off three bottles of wine.

I told mom that I was bushed and needed to get some sleep. She said that she would be up awhile longer looking at TV. I left her and went to my room. I heard her walk down the hall to her bedroom, and then come back, after a few minutes.

About half hour later, I had to go piss like crazy. I opened my bedroom door and saw that the light was still on in the living room. I went to the bathroom and pissed like my dick was a water hose. Then I walked down the hall to the living room.

Mom was still watching TV, but she had turned on one of the X-rated channels. I stood in the doorway watching a couple on the screen fucking. Then I heard mom’s soft moan. I walked further into the living room and my eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

Mom had changed into a silky, sexy lingerie. She was sitting on the couch with her legs wide open, slowly working a dildo in and out of her pussy. Mom is close to 50, but she still has a nice looking body. Her tits are firm even if they do droop a bit. She has a nice round ass and pretty legs.

I also saw that mom had a shaved pussy. Her eyes were closed and she was slowly teasing her cunt with just the head of the dildo, then she would work it faster. Then back to slowly teasing it. Watching her I could feel my dick growing hard.

I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go by, so I stood there not making a sound just watching her. Mom started breathing heavier, and must have been on the verge of cumming, when she opened her eyes and saw me looking at her.

I was standing there with my dick poking out my shorts, my hand slowly stroking it. Mom looked at me, the dildo stopped at the edge of her pussy. Then she looked down at my shaft. “Don’t stop mom. Please don’t stop?”

She looked at me and then she smiled. Slowly she began to stroke her pussy while I stroked my hard dick. Her eyes stayed locked on my shaft as I stroked it. Then she beckoned me closer. I walked over until I was standing between her open thighs.

Mom reached out and touched the tip of my dick. Her finger was wet from my pre-cum. She looked up at me, as she slipped the wet finger into her mouth and sucked it clean. I almost came, watching her taste me the way she did.

Then I slipped down to the floor between her open thighs. The light sex hikayeleri from the TV let me get a good look at her swollen pussy lips. The fake cock was covered with her thick crème and I could smell her heated cunt. I reached out and my fingers stroked her lips along side the dildo. She watched, as I tasted her cunt juice.

My hand covered hers, and I started to slowly work the dildo in and out of her. Mom let her hand go and wrapped it around my shaft. She leaned forward, and I felt her soft hands sliding over the swollen head. I know I groaned as her thumb pressed on the head, and then, slid along the thick vein beneath it.

I slowly pulled the dildo free, and wrapped my arms around her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the couch. My head bent and I was intoxicated with the smell of her sex. My tongue slipped out and worked up and down her soaked slit.

I heard mom groan, then felt her hands on my head, pulling me into her cunt. “Yes, baby! Make mommy feel good. Show mommy that you love her.” I didn’t listen to her words, I was too busy licking and sucking as much juice from her cunt as I could.

My tongue found her clit and I began to lick it. Mom’s body started to jerk each time my tongue stroked that hard nub. Then I pulled it into my mouth and began to suck it. In and out, I sucked it; sometimes softly, teasingly and then I would suck it hard and fast.

Mom’s moans grew louder. Yes son! Suck it! Suck your mother’s cunt. Of fuck I needed this! I’m gonna cum! Oh baby! You’re gonna make your mother cum in your mouth.”

By now, my mind was only on sucking he sweetest pussy I had ever sucked. She could have done anything, said anything, and I would not have cared as long as she didn’t stop me. Suddenly I felt her body go taunt. Mom screamed and pressed my face so tight into her cunt I couldn’t breath.

I felt her hot thick juice flood into my mouth, and I sucked hard, trying to get it all. Mom’s body stopped shaking, but she didn’t let me up. I moved my head to take a deep breath, when she started cumming all over again. Then she came again. Damn but she filled my mouth. And it was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted.

When she stopped shaking this time, I moved my mouth from her cunt. I could feel her juices running down my chin and smeared all over my face. Mom took my face between her hands, and licked all over my face until she had licked most of it off. Then she kissed my lips.

Her tongue slid between my lips as she pulled me to her. Her hand rubbed my neck and pulled me in tight to her. The kiss was long, hard and passionate. Then she eased away from me, and urged me to stand.

When I stood up, my hard dick was pointed directly at her face. Mom looked up at me, as she leaned in and porno hikayeleri her lips surrounded my dick. Her hand circled my shaft and she began to work her mouth back and forth.

I have had my dick sucked many times. Hell at 25, I was no prude to sex. But no woman ever sucked my dick with the sensuous feelings that mom gave me. And she was soon whipping her head back and forth, twisting it this way and that, moaning and whimpering.

My hands slid into her hair, as I moaned and worked my hips. “Yea mom! Suck your son’s hard dick! Show me how much you love me! Take it all mom! Show me you can take it all.”

I looked down and saw her looking up at me. Damn but that was one nasty sight. I almost lost it just looking at her. She was working her lips and mouth like a hungry whore on a payday night.

I started working her head back and forth, fucking her harder and faster. “Do you like it mom? Do you like sucking your son’s dick?” Mom nodded her head up and down but never stopped sucking. I wanted to hold back but under her onslaught, I couldn’t hold back for long.

I grabbed her hair and shoved hard, feeling my dick slip all the way into her mouth. “Argh! Mom! I’m gonna shoot! I’m gonna cum in your hot mouth! Oh mom! Don’t stop. Oh fuck this is great! Now mom! Drink it! Drink all of it!”

I felt my balls explode, and her cheeks puffed out as I filled her mouth. Mom kept looking up at me and I saw her swallow hard. But she kept on sucking me. I shot another load, and she swallowed that one too. I slowly pulled my spent dick from between her lips.

My cum, was smeared all over her lips. I bent down and kissed her as hard as she had kissed me. Making sure that my tongue cleaned ever drop from her lips and chin. Then we looked at each other. I smiled and she smiled back at me.

“Happy New Year mom!” She laughed as her fingers began to stroke her pussy again. “Happy new year son! I sure hope that you can get hard again, I have two more presents that I want you to open for the New Year.”

As I looked down at her fingers slowly stroking her wet pussy I could feel my dick begin to twitch. “Lets finish watching this in your bedroom.” I helped her to her feet and watched her round ass sway as she walked to her bedroom

Mom waked to her bed, and got up on her hands and knees. She shook her ass at me. Then she turned her head and looked at me with a big smile on her face. “Are you sure that you won’t mind being a “motherfucker”?”

I laughed as I stood behind her. “Mom”, I said as I slipped my hard dick up into her wet pussy. “I not only want to be the best “motherfucker” you ever knew, I want to be your big “pain in the ass, too”.”

I picked up the remote, and turned until I got the X-rated channel seks hikayeleri she had been watching. I held her hips, sliding my hard dick in and out of her pussy. Mom was so wet; her pussy was making slurping sounds as I fucked her.

After having cum once, I knew that I could fuck her hard and fast and I would not be too quick to cum again. I fucked up into her wet pussy so hard, that mom bounced forward and back, grunting as I rammed my dick deep into her.

“That’s right, you motherfucker! Tear the wrapping off this present! Damn son! You sure know how to fuck your mom! Give it to me good! Make me feel every inch! Of fuck it’s been so long! So long! Fuck me son! Fuck momma’s pussy!”

Her words spurred me on to fuck her even harder. I was slamming my dick into her, grunting with her as it hit home again and again. Then momma leaned forward until she was resting her head on the bed. She reached behind her and spread her cheeks wide.

“Now son! Shove it up momma’s ass! I want you to be a big pain in my ass! Show me how you can fuck your mom’s fat, wide, black ass!” I pulled my dick out of her sopping pussy. It was coated with her thick crème.

I put the tip up against her black puckered asshole. Holding the shaft, I pushed until the tip began to slide in. “Oh shit that feels big! I haven’t been ass fucked in so long! But I want it now! Fuck my ass, son!”

I held her hips, and with a mighty lunge, buried my dick to the hilt. Mom screamed into the sheets, and tried to crawl forward. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back to me.

“Happy New Year Mom!” I screamed as I pulled back and lunged again. I kept slamming my hard dick into mom’s tight ass until it began to slide easier. Then I just fucked her hard. Mom was crying and whimpering on the bed, but she was also moving her ass back and forth as I fucked her.

“Yes son! Duck me! Tear my asshole open with that sweet dick. I won’t be lonely ever again, will I son? You will take care of my needs, won’t you son?” Mom was whimpering and moaning as she talked. I was just concentrating on fucking her ass.

Then I felt it beginning to build again. “I’m gonna cum again mom! This time, I’m gonna fill this asshole with my cum. Yes mom, I’m gonna be your personal motherfucker from now on. Hump that ass mom! Give it to me! Now mom! Now!”

I pounded her for all I was worth. And mom shoved back and forth just as hard, driving me deep inside her tight asshole. Then my dick exploded. I felt it shoot out and she began to convulse. Her orgasm was stronger than the one where I ate her pussy.

Mom started shouting. “Yes son! Fuck my ass! Cum deep in my ass! Give it to me! Give it all to me! Oh fuck your good. Don’t stop fucking me! Fuck me forever! I’m cumming son! Ahhhhhh!” I held her as she shook thru her own climax.

We fell over on our sides, and mom moaned. “Damn! What a way to start off the New Year! ” I laughed. “Oh yea mom! And the cumming year will bring more and more of this.” We fell asleep just like that.

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The Eyes of Midnight

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Amateur

I think the first time I saw her, she was sitting in an airport gate, just in front of the gate I was going toward. I was randomly people watching, like people do in airports, and she was looking bored and disinterested, like people do at airports. I say I think it was the first time I saw her because when I saw her in the airport, I had the overwhelming sense that I had seen her before.

Which was especially surprising, given the fact that she was nondescript in every way. She was small, in size, features and manner. She looked almost like a child, and seemed to blend in with the chair so that she was nearly invisible. Yet for some reason she caught my eye, and as I briefly stared at her as I walked by, she glanced up and looked back at me. She looked back down quickly. It almost looked like she stifled a smile.

I looked away and continued walking to my boarding gate, but I positioned myself so that I could still see her in the adjacent area. That vantage point was really too far away to help me figure out why she looked so familiar, but it struck me that it was an exercise in futility anyway. I was sitting in an airport a thousand miles from my home, heading a thousand miles another direction, and she was probably from a thousand miles away going a thousand miles in the other direction. I guess one of the intriguing things about people watching in airports is that it is extremely unlikely that you would ever see the people again. It almost gives you a lonely, angsty feeling.

I was in this airport, coming from another airport, wondering about people and where I’d seen this girl before because I was going to Chicago for an art exhibit. An art exhibit that I was speaking at as an expert, because the artist is my wife Anna. Anna happens to be an internationally famous painter, who has a traveling exhibit that visits a different major city every few months. She has a very unique style and subject that has captivated the art world. Most of her work involves close up, detailed depictions of human eyes. Anna had a style of painting details into her eye paintings that had a way of defining the person being painted. The shapes and color combinations that she puts into her paintings are mesmerizing, you can look at the paintings for hours and find hidden shapes within the iris, a subtle but meaningful tint to the whites of the eyes, and a barely visible but profound refection in the pupil.

I speak on her paintings as a renowned expert, and it is my life’s work to share and promote her art. She would do it herself, but Anna died over 20 years ago.

I looked up at the gate and realized that my plane had started boarding, and I looked over where the girl had been. She was gone, leaving behind a lonely seat for the next person who was coming from somewhere else on the way to somewhere else. I filed the experience away into the remote regions of my brain, where I retain a vast library of faces that I will never see again, and boarded the plane for Chicago.

I had just settled into my seat by the window when I glanced up towards the front of the plane at the line of people uncomfortably working their way down the aisle when I saw her, the girl from the adjacent gate, standing and waiting while some poor sap tried to stow his carry on. For some reason my heart skipped a beat. I watched her out of the corner of my eyes, trying to get a good look without staring.

I’m not sure how to explain my intrigue. She wasn’t particularly attractive, though she had a quality about her that was cute. She appeared to be thin, but it was really hard to tell because she was dressed in unflattering, bulky clothes. She had dark hair, stuffed under a baseball cap, her skin was on the lighter side, and her facial features were sharp, from a pert nose to her prominent cheekbones. I had not yet been able to see her eyes well coming down the aisle. Years of discussing Anna’s artwork had left me with a bit of an obsession with eyes, an obsession that we had shared in the brief five years we had together before she died. Anna called eyes the windows to the soul. When she painted a subject, she would spend an hour just looking into the person’s eyes. She would fall into an almost spell-like trance, and then she would paint those eyes with extraordinary likeness and depth that would shock even the subject of the painting. So I had developed this weird tic of looking into people’s eyes to search their soul. I didn’t have Anna’s knack for it though, I just tended to look creepy staring into the eyes of strangers.

As she continued to move down the aisle towards me, I began to be aware of the fact that the two seats beside me were empty, and she had not yet taken a seat. Each aisle she passed made me increasingly tense, wondering if she was destined for my aisle, or perhaps right beside me. I was in the middle of the plane, so it was just as likely that she would be sitting 20 rows behind me.

When she reached the row in front of me, she glanced up sex hikayeleri at the seat numbers and I saw the recognition in her eyes that she had reached her aisle. My heart nearly stopped when she turned towards me and began putting her small bag into the overhead bin. She nodded and smiled slightly to me and I did the same, then she took the aisle seat, leaving an open space between us.

I spent the rest of what seemed like an extraordinarily long boarding sequence praying that no one else took the middle seat. I had an odd flashback to a time when Anna was still alive, when she had just started to become famous and we would fly to big cities for her shows. She hated having someone in that third seat on the row, so much so that one time she bought three tickets and we only used two, just so she wouldn’t have some obnoxious person beside us.

While it appeared that every other seat on the plane was full, somehow I got lucky and no one sat in the seat between us. As the plane took off and I thought about clever ways to start up a conversation. I was actually a bit nervous about talking with this girl who had captured my attention so mysteriously.

I noticed that her pocketbook was slightly open, and hanging out of it was a small book, The Eyes of Art. I recognized it immediately, because I was the author. It was a non fiction book I had written about my wife’s work, no literary feat and no best seller. I figured that despite the popularity of the subject, there had only been a few thousand sold.

“Believe it or not, I have a copy of that book myself,” I said, pointing to the book.

She looked pretty surprised, probably thinking I was lying. “This book?” she asked pulling it out of the bag.

“Yes, that one,” I said. I took the book from her, flipped it to the back page, and pointed to the picture of me in the bio on the back inside cover. “I know the guy who wrote it.”

She looked at the picture, then looked at me, quickly putting it together that we were the same person. Her mouth came open in surprise. “Wow, how’s that for a coincidence…what are the odds?”

“Definitely a long shot,” I said. “I wrote this book about ten years ago, my wife Anna is the artist featured in the book. Was the artist,” I corrected.

“Yes, I’ve read the book, I’m sorry for your loss,” she said.

One of the pitfalls of having someone famous for a spouse, someone famous who dies, is that nearly every conversation you have with most anyone familiar starts with them telling you they are sorry for your loss. After 20 years, I had narrowed my response down to a simple nod.

“I am on my way to Chicago to speak on Anna’s work at an art gallery,” I said.

Her mouth came open again. “I am going to Chicago to see that exhibit! I love her work! I saw a magazine article last month and was blown away by the style. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

I knew the article she was referring to, it was a national art magazine that had prominently featured Anna’s work. The article had pointed out how widely successful her paintings had continued to be, despite such a short work career and being dead for over 20 years. The impact of the article had been strong, I had been contacted by dozens of galleries to talk about exhibiting her work.

“It really is a very unique style,” I said. “I never get tired of talking about it.”

My experience on airplane conversations is that the vast majority are brief, shallow interactions. Occasionally the right two people will be seated together, and catch each other in the right mood, and the conversation becomes intriguing and you almost wish the flight wouldn’t end. This conversation quickly became the latter.

Her name was Sara, she called herself a wanna-be artist. She was 22 years old, studying art and this was the first trip she had ever taken to see an art exhibit. We spent a lot of time talking about Anna’s work, and I was quite impressed with how knowledgeable she was about the work, and also how insightful she was. I had also noted, painfully, that Sara was 22 years old, the exact age that Anna had been when she died, which was also exactly 22 years ago.

As I talked with her I noted that she was more attractive than I had initially thought. She was quite small and thin, her skin was on the lighter side and was very smooth, her nose was sharp and pert and she had cute dimples when she smiled. Her eyes were a bit of a disappointment, and as I mentioned before, eyes were a big deal to me. She had deep, brown eyes, almost black, and there were few if any variations of color and depth.

I had a bad habit of comparing everyone to Anna, even though she had been gone for over 20 years. She was a striking beauty, though she didn’t think she was pretty at all. Her most intriguing feature was her eyes, which were undoubtedly the source for her artistic ventures. Anna had heterochromia, a fairly rare condition where her eyes were different colors. porno hikayeleri One eye was a mixture of blue and one was a mixture of brown, and they were the most unique eyes I’ve ever seen before or since. She had an amazing range of color and shapes within her irises, and they would change based on the light she was in. Her most famous paintings were the ones she did of her own eyes.

Those eyes were indeed memorable. Sara mentioned that she had spent hours looking at the detail of Anna’s self portraits. She was going into the details of Anna’s eyes when the captain announced we would be landing soon. It had to be the fastest flight I had ever been on. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but I was utterly captivated, almost nervous talking to this young girl who was half my age and clearly out of my league. I’m not a bad looking guy, I have stayed fit over the years, but I had no great pretensions that a girl in her early 20s would be interested in a guy pushing middle age. I guess a guy can dream though, and I couldn’t help but do just that.

All good things must come to an end though, and we went from our pleasant chat to the hustle and bustle of getting off an airplane, finding luggage and trying to figure out how to leave. We bumped into each other a few times during the process, and said that we would see each other later that night at the gallery event.

Now would seem like an appropriate time to bring up a few significant facts about myself. Anna and I had met when we were 15, and we had spent less than a month together before we were convinced that we were soul mates. We enjoyed the same things, we did the same things, we thought the same way. Sometimes it seemed like we were two parts of a half. We married at 17, against the wishes of both of our families, and began to pursue our artistic dreams. She was almost immediately successful, and by the time she was 20 had begun to get a following. Her talent was so far beyond mine that I gladly stepped back into the role of promoting her work, rather than creating my own. She was quite prolific in her brief years. When she tackled a project, she would become obsessed, almost hypnotic, and paint non stop until the vision was complete.

Just as she was becoming internationally known, we were driving across town and got t-boned by a drunk driver at midnight. She was killed instantly, I was in a coma for a few months. When I woke up, my whole life had changed. I had long term physical problems, I suffered head injuries that had some odd effects on my life, and worst of all, I had lost my soul mate. I spent five years recovering physically, another five years recovering emotionally, and the last dozen years, well, just going through the motions. I had dedicated my life after Anna’s death to promoting her work, and that was really the sole focus on my existence. I was not interested in finding another soul mate, or relationships, or even finding someone to date. This is going to sound crazy, but in the 22 years that Anna had been gone, I had not had sex with another person.

I checked in at my hotel near the gallery, made the necessary calls and collapsed on the bed. I had enough time to take a solid nap before my speech and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. My last thought before dozing off was to wonder if Sara was staying the night in Chicago.

I woke up on the bed with a start, and realized it was from a noise coming from the bathroom. Someone else was in the room. Just as I was standing to walk toward the bathroom, the door opened and out came Anna, dressed to the nines and putting on an earring as she walked towards me. She looked fantastic.

“Better get going,” she smiled. “You don’t want to be late.”

I smiled back at her. I was having one of my dreams that Anna was alive again. This happened to me so often through the years that it didn’t even phase me anymore. These were the dreams that allowed me to never have any reason to pursue any other relationships, or even have sex. I had actually reached the point where I could control my dreams, I could keep myself from waking up so that we could spend time together, and more importantly, I had become so adept at controlling my dreams that I could manipulate the characters in my dreams to do what I wanted. I lived in a dream world where I could have whatever I wanted, whoever I wanted, and however I wanted. I didn’t need reality.

While I had to work at it to gain this ability, I think it was in part due to the brain damage that I suffered in the accident. As I mentioned, my head injuries in the wreck caused some odd effects, and this was the biggest. My brain had been damaged in one way but had simultaneously developed an incredible skill.

So Anna would come to me in dreams, and we would talk, and laugh, and enjoy each other just as before. Sometimes it almost seemed like she knew it was a dream too, but we didn’t talk about that, we just enjoyed the time we had. We also had sex, seks hikayeleri and when you are in complete control of all the images and words and people, sex is pretty fantastic. Imagine being able to do whatever you wanted in your dreams and have other characters look and act the way you want. I could instantly change their hair color, or have them suddenly change into sexy lingerie. I could make them taller or fitter or tanner or whatever. I could give myself a 12 inch cock. I could bring in a third party and have a threeway. Since I controlled the dream, I could control Anna’s reactions, so if we had group sex with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, she would enthusiastically enjoy it, and so would they. If I wanted to, I could have Anna suddenly grow an attractive cock and rub it up against mine as I licked and sucked her breasts. I’m not saying I have done that, not saying I haven’t, just saying I could. It was realistic, fabulous fulfillment of every fantasy, guilt free.

And here she was, visiting me in my hotel room.

“I’m almost ready,” I said, standing up to wrap my arms around her in a warm embrace. I could feel her, hold her, and smell her. The only shortfall of my dreams was that I could never manage to focus on her eyes. When I looked into her eyes, they became fuzzy and unfocused. If I looked away, they seemed to sharpen, but as soon as I looked back they were out of focus. So I spent a lot of time looking at her almost sideways.

She looked fantastic, in a silky black dress that I often dreamed she was wearing. It came up to about mid thigh and showed off her toned and tanned legs, my second favorite thing about her. It also showed just a hint of cleavage up top, and when I wished it I could see her nipples through the fabric.

I effortlessly moved the dream in the direction I wanted. I chose to be sitting naked on the edge of the bed, in a candlelit hotel room. I chose to have an impressive eight inch cock (no reason to overdo it) and chose to be semi aroused, so that my cock hung heavy in front of Anna’s face. I chose to have her look at me hungrily, licking her lips for a moment, before she moved in and softly kissed my cock, first one side, then the other, then softly again on either side of the head. Then I had her lick the head, her tongue long and full, so long in fact that it could twirl around my cock. My cock quickly became fully aroused, and she had to move up on her knees to take me enthusiastically into her mouth. It didn’t take long for my orgasm to well up inside me, and when I came it was like an exploding firehose, the volume and intensity ridiculously well beyond reality. I came in volumes, coating Anna’s chest with a thick white cream.

“Wow, I think you’ve missed me,” she smiled, as she dragged her index finger across her chest, scooping up some of the milky liquid and sliding her finger seductively into her mouth.

“I always miss you,” I replied. “You need to visit more often.”

She smiled and leaned back away from me, she was naked now. She took another handful of the creamy white coating on her chest and used it as a warm lube as she rubbed it on her pussy.

“I’m here anytime,” she said.

“I wish I could see your eyes,” I said.

She blushed and looked away. She was back in her little black dress again, looking clean and beautiful and ready to go to the art show. After a moment she raised her eyes back up towards mine, and I gasped as I suddenly realized that for the first time in over 20 years of dreams, I could see her eyes, one brown, one blue, both glowing up at me. As I recovered from the initial shock, my eyes refocused, and suddenly I realized that I wasn’t looking at Anna anymore. The reason I could see her eyes was that it wasn’t her. It was Sara, looking up at me warmly.

I jolted awake to find myself alone on the bed in the hotel room. Where did that come from, I thought. Before I could figure that out I got a wake up call from the front desk, and I had to get ready for the show.

In the short walk to the art gallery, I couldn’t stop thinking about Sara and the dream. I had been controlling my dreams so completely for so long it was shocking to have something change unexpectedly. I had to admit that it was a pleasant surprise, I was wishing I hadn’t been startled awake.

The art show and my presentation went quite well, it was a script I had been doing so long I could have done it in my sleep. Meet the important people, have the usual conversations, give the speech that I have given once a month for the past five years. My favorite part of the entire process was watching people look at the paintings before and after the presentation, they were often visibly amazed and moved at Anna’s work. It made me feel good that her work was still having an impact on people.

One thing I didn’t see was Sara, not before, during or after the presentation, and I spent a lot of time looking. There were several hundred people at the event, so I easily could’ve missed her. I had pretty much given up as I watched the crowd thinning out. I found myself standing in front of a large painting of Anna’s eyes, gazing into her eyes and remembering what it was like to look into them earlier, in the dream.

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The Door

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Double Penetration

It is funny when you start a new job where you are one of the few females and you are the youngest female, it makes the job much more exciting. Of course you have to play it safe the first couple of weeks, making sure not to wear any revealing clothes to upset the other women, especially the older ones, in the office. But then you start to wear a blouse that dips just a little more in the front, revealing just a little. Then the skirts get just a little shorter. It is so funny to watch the men start hanging around your desk.

I just started working for a stockbrokerage firm a few weeks ago and I am in charge of making sure the brokers’ clients pay for their stock transactions. This means handing out slips of papers to let them know when money is about due or is overdue. I slip the papers into their cubbyholes and if there is a problem they come to me. You would be amazed at how, the shorter my skirts get, the more “problems” there are.

The thing is, though, that I love older guys. There is one man in the office who has to be at least twenty or twenty -five years older than my twenty-two years of age. He is very attractive and was single for a long time. He had quite a reputation when he was single, from what I understand. A girlfriend of mine, Tammy, saw him one time, when we were out at a bar, and told me that Tom, that is his name Tom Henry, had dated his mother right after her divorce and she could hear the screams of ecstasy coming from her mother’s bedroom on many nights. She also overheard her mother on the phone, telling her girlfriends about his magnificent mouth. Evidently Tom Hanks was an expert in the art of cunnilingus.

Given the fact that I already had a thing for older men, and given that I worked with this guy, that made him even more intriguing for me. But all of the guys would hang around my desk like panting dogs, except for Mr. Hanks. He wouldn’t so much as look at me.

Then I found out that Mr. Hanks had just recently gotten married. After years out in the dating arena and bar scene, he had hung up his guns and decided to become domesticated. I was so distraught when I learned this news that I finally gave in to the constant pestering of Peter, one of the younger brokers in the office, to go out with him for a drink.

Peter was twenty-five years old and a relatively new broker. I could tell he always got nervous when one of the more senior brokers walked by my desk when he was talking to me. There is a window that separates me from the herd, so the brokers always have to talk through the hole in the glass.

One thing I love to do is tease men. I know that they find me attractive. I found this out when I was thirteen years old but didn’t lose my virginity until I was fifteen. It makes me so hot to expose myself to men and watch them get excited. The problem is that they get too excited and by the time that we get down to the main event, they last about three minutes. It’s such a disappointment.

I hate to wear panties. I love the feeling of the breeze blowing up my skirt to my exposed skin. Obviously I have to wear panties at work, but occasionally I will slip them off before going in to one of the broker’s offices. I will sit there and cross and uncross my legs, never really giving them a good view of the hidden treasure.

I decided to slip my panties off before going out for drinks with Peter. It’s not that I necessarily had the intention of having sex with Peter, but it was just that I loved being around all those people in the bar, feeling, almost naked. I also get a perverse sensation of feeling the cool material of the chair I am sitting on against my bare ass.

Peter was trying to be so charming, but he was trying too hard. There was an a man, he looked to be about forty-five or fifty, at the bar. He kept glancing my way and when Peter would go to the bathroom, which he did a lot, I wasn’t sure if he was doing cocaine or masturbating, anyway I would cross my legs under the table, exposing my neatly trimmed pussy for a second or two. I know he was too far away to see that I wasn’t wearing any panties but the fact that I knew was enough to get me wet.

When the man went to leave the bar, I uncrossed my legs very slowly and knew that he got a wonderful view as his eyes almost left their sockets. The lust that filled his eyes was unbelievable. His whole face took on a look that made me almost have an orgasm on the spot.

“Just wanted to stop and tell you that you have one beautiful woman here,” the stranger said to Peter.

“Uh,..uh, thanks, sir,” Peter mumbled.

“Can I buy you two a drink?” the stranger asked.

He looked at me with that knowing look and I wanted to put my hand between my legs and finger myself to an orgasm, but I didn’t.

“Sure,” I answered before Peter could decline.

The stranger sat down in the chair next to me and was not shy about pulling his chair as close to me as he could. He looked at Peter for a reaction but Peter said nothing.

“My name is Dick,” he said looking at me. “My friends call me sex hikayeleri big Dick.”

As turned on as I had been getting, I suddenly was turned off but this bragger. His dick was probably two inches long. But then he brazenly put his hand on my thigh and ran it up under my skirt.

I wanted to pull it away, but I was frozen. I could hear him saying something to Peter but there was a ringing in my ears. Peter said something back to him, but again I could hear nothing. I felt Dick’s hand snake up to the lips of my vagina which were now flowing. He stabbed a finger into me. He wasn’t gentle at all and his fingers were calloused. I wanted to scream at him but I didn’t, instead I had an orgasm.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“Huh?” I managed.

“You’re all red and you’re breathing so funny.”

I could see Dick smiling and I hated him even more for that. His finger was still inside me and was moving in and out. I got control of the situation and stood up. He pulled his hand quickly back.

“I do feel rather funny,” I said, “I am going to go throw some water on my face.”

I made my way to the restroom and there was a line. I felt dizzy so I stepped out through the back door. There were two guys around my age smoking and talking. They looked at me when I came out and tried to strike up a conversation. I ignored them and walked along the darkened alley until I was out of view. I put my hand beneath my skirt and caressed the insides of my slick thighs, wet from the juices that had been running down my leg. I knew that I could cum quickly and wanted to savor the moment.

When I looked up the alley I could see the two smokers straining under the glare of the bare light bulb to see where I had gone. Could they see me? The idea that they might be able to made me that much more excited.

I slowly inserted a finger into my vagina and gently massaged my swollen clitoris. Electric shocks ran through me like a current. I rubbed a little firmer and inserted the finger a bit deeper. The eyes of the two smokers were still looking my way. A loud groan escaped my lips. The two smokers started walking my way. The excitement in me climbed to a feverish pitch. I knew I should stop before they got there but I couldn’t.

I stuck two fingers inside me and spread my legs even further. There was no doubt they could see me now.

“Hey baby,” one of them shouted, “you need some help with that?”

It hit me like a sack of bricks. Lights went off in my brain and I screamed. They were four feet away when I dropped my skirt, turned and walked down the alley. I feared they would run to catch me, but instead they just yelled after me.

“Where you going? Come back.”

If they had caught me I knew that I would have let them do what they wanted. I was in such a weakened state of mind. I was so damn horny.

I went in through the front door of the bar and saw Peter and Dick sitting at the table. I stood by the table and refused to sit.

“I am not feeling so well,” I said looking at Peter, “I’d like to go.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter said.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the disappointment on Dick’s face.

“Why don’t I order us something to eat?” Dick tried.

“No, I don’t want to throw up all over you,” I said, looking directly into Dick’s eyes.

The lustful look he had earlier displayed turned to a look of complete dejection. Peter paid the tab and we left. We drove to my apartment in silence only listening to the music on the radio. I was sure that Peter thought that he had done something wrong. Although I wasn’t very attracted to Peter, I felt sorry for him. I almost felt like giving him a pity fuck, but only almost.

I didn’t invite him but allowed him to kiss me outside my door. I felt his hand on my ass and he must have felt that I was not wearing any panties. He slipped it under my skirt and I allowed him to confirm the fact. When he reached my leaking pussy, I felt him stiffen in shock. I broke off the kiss and said goodnight quickly. I slipped inside the door and closed it before he came out of shock. When I peeked out the spy hole of the door, I could see him standing there with his mouth open. I almost laughed but felt sorry for him. I waited for him to knock on the door and I tried to decide what I would do if he did.

My hand slid under my skirt and I started gently massaging my clit as I looked at Peter’s dumbfounded expression.

“Go ahead, knock on the door,” I thought as I moved the finger rapidly over my clit.

“Come on,” I thought again, “knock on the door. Be persistent and I will let you fuck me,” I thought.

The lewd thought got me more excited but Peter only stood there. He finally walked away just as I was so close to having my third orgasm of the night.

I went into the bedroom and got my trusted rabbit friend from out of the drawer. I had paid almost a hundred dollars for this vibrator but it was an incredible mixture of beads and rubber and motors with a clit stimulator and a seven inch portion porno hikayeleri that was for insertion. I turned it on and slipped it into me. It swirled and purred. I moved it in and out an inch or two, trying to not have the little vibrating clit stimulator leave contact with my clit. I wished so that there was another attachment for the anus. How I would love to have a finger in my ass. How I would love to have Tom Henry’s cock in my ass. The last image did it. I came.

My dreams were filled with images of being gangbanged by everyone in the office but Tom Henry. One by one they continued to fuck me as one would lick my clitoris while the other ones would fuck me with their dicks that swirled around and around inside my vagina.

When I awoke the batteries to my rabbit were almost dead and I felt the slow movement of the swirling rabbit head inside my aching vagina. I slowly removed it and walked gingerly to the bathroom. I truly did feel as if I had been gangbanged by every man in the office.

I got dressed, but walking was an effort and wearing underwear was abrasive on my swollen vagina lips. I decided to call in sick, which was truly the case. Of course I did not tell them that the reason for my illness was a sore vagina.

I slept most of the day and didn’t even go out to get new batteries for my rabbit. The next day, however, my sexual appetite was back and I dressed to tease, wearing my short black skirt.

At the office, I was surprised to see that Tom Henry actually locked eyes with me when I looked at him, as I usually do.

“How’s things at home?” I asked him, teasingly.

He smiled and walked away.

I was amazed. Perhaps things weren’t so great at home. This was my opportunity if I wanted to pursue it, which I did. I picked up the phone and dialed his extension.

“Tom Henry,” he answered.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Call it woman’s intuition.”

“Don’t you have to be a woman to have that?” He laughed

That got me angry. So he thought I was a child.

“Twenty-two is not a woman?” I asked angrily.

“It is to a twenty-two year old boy,” he answered.

If I was going to go for it, now was the time.

“You’re right, I still have much to learn about being a woman,” I said softly, “I guess I need a teacher.”

I expected the line to go dead as he hung up on me.

“Maybe you do,” I heard instead.

I couldn’t believe it. He was being receptive.

“Wow,” I lost my composure, “things must be bad at home.”

I waited for a response and got none. Eureka. I could feel the moisture between my legs.

“I have to go,” I said and hung up the phone.

I looked around and no one was nearby. I reached up and slipped off my panties and stuck them in my desk drawer.

I looked through my paperwork and found a slip of paper with pending business for Tom. I picked it up and walked quickly back to his office. I knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he said from the other side.

I opened the door and closed it behind me. I walked slowly to the other side of his desk and made a point of getting as close to him as possible as I put the piece of paper down on his desk in front of him. I leaned over, the front of my white, low cut, blouse falling open to allow him full view of the tops of my breasts.

“You have a client who is on House call due tomorrow,” I said.

When I looked at him, his eyes were focusing on my breasts. I could feel myself getting wetter and bolder.

“You like?” I asked.

“You have a very nice body and you know it,” he said.

I was shocked. I wanted to pull down his zipper and jump on his lap right there, but instead I maintained my composure for the moment.

“What about this house call?” I said, matter of fact.

“My client will meet it tomorrow,” he said.

I turned and walked over to the chair that was directly in front of his desk. When I sat down I crossed by legs very slowly, allowing him a full view of the trimmed treasure that I so desperately wanted to give him.

“Did you come to work wearing no panties, or did you remove them before you came into my office?” he asked so calmly.

I was shocked again, but his calm manner was making me hotter.

“My you are a different person, aren’t you,” I said.

“Ignoring the question?” he said.

“Actually I took them off before I came in here,” I said, and in so doing uncrossed my legs and let them spread open to his gaze. I was sure he could see the juices running down my thighs and onto his black leather chair.

“Why did you do that? To tease me?” he asked.

“Don’t you like to be teased?” I asked, smiling seductively.

“Sure, if I think it’s going somewhere,” he said.

My heart was pounding.

“Where would you like it to go?” I asked, opening my legs further to his gaze.

“If we didn’t work together I would like it to go much further,” he said.

“Are you afraid?” I asked, dropping my hand to my seks hikayeleri thigh and slowly started to move it up toward my skirt. My desire to masturbate in front of him was overwhelming. As my hand reached under my skirt and I opened my legs his phone rang. I jumped and so did he. Surely he would let the phone ring. We were right at the door of doing it. I was about to explode. If I just touched myself I knew I would have an orgasm.

He answered the phone. I knew he would cut the conversation short so I waited, restraining myself from reaching under my skirt and bringing myself off. He turned his back and continued to talk to the client on the other end of the phone. I got up and left the office. I didn’t slam the door behind me but I I almost did.

I went back to my desk and waited for the phone to ring. Surely he was as hot as I was and couldn’t wait to continue. Surely the phone would ring at any moment.

The phone rang.

“Hello,” I tried to sound calm.

“Hi,” Peter said, “I hope I didn’t do anything to upset you last night.”

“No,” I said, annoyed that it was Peter and not Tom.

“Um, I was wondering if you would like to go have some dinner tonight,” he continued.

My first reaction was to say yes. At the moment all I could think of was the burning sensation between my legs. I would have taken Peter into the men’s room and done him right then. But the rational part of my brain took over.

“Let me call you back,” I said.

I went into the bathroom and into one of the stalls. I stroked my thighs and teased the hair around my clit before brushing up against it gently with my index finger. I was so close to cumming and I wanted it to last. I teased my clit, feeling the juices run down my fingers. At last I could hold out no more and I buried two fingers deeply inside me. I plunged them in and out of my sopping tunnel for thirty seconds before the fireworks erupted. I relaxed for a minute before going to the sink and washing my hands. I went back to my desk, called Peter and told him I was thankful for the invitation but that I would take a rain check. He was disappointed. I decided not to tease Peter any further and besides in a moment of horny weakness I might just fuck him, imagining the entire time that Tom was doing me in his place.

Tom Hanks walked by my desk several times but I was too disappointed to look at him.

I went home that night and thought of Tom and the events of the day. I got out my rabbit to fulfill what Tom didn’t do but was only greeted with the pitiful sound that a vibrator gives when there is only moments of energy left in it. I fell asleep unfulfilled but determined to complete the task that I had started that day.

I wore a sexy pink blouse that plunged in the front. I feared that I would get a lecture for wearing it, but chanced it just the same.

The result of my attire was overwhelming. When Tom came into work, there were three brokers at the window trying to get a glimpse of my assets. I made a point of bending forward just as Tom approached so that he could see what he had missed out on. He ignored this and went to his office.

I decided to confront him head on. I went into Tom’s office and sat down in the chair directly in front of him as I had done the previous day. The nervousness of the moment overcame the erotic feeling I had in the déjà vu feelings I was having. Although I wanted to open my legs and show him that I was again, without panties, I kept my knees tightly pressed together.

“Did I offend you yesterday?” I asked in my most businesslike tone.

“What?” He actually screamed, “you have got to be kidding.”

I was relieved to see him smile.

I relaxed my legs, allowing the gray skirt to ride up an inch on my thighs. I opened my legs a bit to allow him to see that I was ready to start where we had left off.

“I was worried because you ignored me the rest of the day,” I said.

“Miscommunication,” he said, “I didn’tt want to take this somewhere you did not intend for it to go.”

I smiled, opened my legs wider and slipped my hand up my naked thigh to the my vagina that lay exposed to his view.

“Wait,” he said, as he stood and went to the door. He locked it and went back to his desk. He picked up his phone and called a number.

“I am on an important call on my cell phone, Hold my calls until I call you back.”

I smiled and hiked my skirt even higher on my hips. I could feel the juices running down my thighs. I ran my hand over the wetness, brushing my vagina lips as I did.

“You want me to do this?” I said between gasps of air.

“Yes,” he said calmly, “finger yourself for me.”

I closed my eyes and inserted my finger into my pussy. This was playing out just as I had pictured it so many times when I masturbated. The orgasm was right there but I kept it at bay, stopping the fucking motions with my fingers when I got too close.

“You like watching me fuck myself?” I said, the sound of this was overwhelming and my fingers, as if having a mind of their own, plunged into my dark wet tunnel with reckless abandon.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were filled with lust.

“You want to eat me, don’t you?” I said, the first jolt of my orgasm flickering in my brain.

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Happy Father’s Day

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Ass

I’m pretty lucky. I was able to go to college and get into a good, well-paying career that I’ve always found interesting. I found the ideal wife, she’s pretty and sexy and loves to keep me a happy boy. I’ve never asked her for anything, blow jobs, hand jobs, sex, just whatever, she’s always ahead of me. Perfect, right?

I also get along with Tara’s family, another good thing. Her mom, Myra, is a nice woman and her dad, Dean, has become quite a good friend.

He and I talk about all sorts of things, sports, business, politics, even sex, and that’s kind of where this story starts.

I’d gotten up to get us a couple more beers one afternoon when we were out by our pool and when I came back out and sat down, he asked me, “Ben, um, kind of keep this under your hat, but, well, do you know where a guy might get a good blow job?”

I looked at him, rather taken aback.

“Don’t get me wrong, okay, nothing’s wrong at home particularly, it’s just that Myra doesn’t especially like to do it and, well, she really doesn’t want to. And, well, we also don’t have sex much, either, and I’m getting more and more in need.”

“Yeah, I can see how that might happen after a lot of years,” I commiserated, “I guess it happens.”

“Well, it’s just that I’d like some relief and I don’t know how these things work anymore, you know, finding someone to do it, and thought maybe you might know.”

“Now you don’t think I’m getting anything from anybody but Tara, do you?” I asked him.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that at all. Just that you might know how I could find somebody to do it. Being discreet, of course.”

“Well, let me think about it, Dean,” I told him and our talk went to other things.

Poor guy, I thought. I was glad my wife didn’t inherit her mother’s dislike of a hard cock in the mouth, in fact, Tara was a splendid cocksucker.

She’s told me that the first time she slid her lips down over a boy’s dick she had an orgasm right then. And, from then on, she’s just loved giving blow jobs.

I’ve already told you she loves sex, we pretty much do it every night unless she has her period, then she sucks me but, heck, she sucks me anyway. Like I said, she loves it.

Tara and I have done some playing with others, she even did a glory hole session once while I taped her taking cock after cock. She got herself off five times that afternoon.

We’ve also been at a few parties, adult parties, where she’d be blindfolded and try to guess which guy it was she was sucking off while the rest of us all watched. And, yes, she was naked. And, she usually didn’t guess correctly when it was my cock in her mouth.

It was about three days later when I’d just come out of the shower when she came in to shower herself.

As was normal, I’d given my cock a few soapy strokes then finished showering so when I was standing there, I was about half-hard.

“What’s this?” she said as she lifted it in her hand.

“I think it’s a cock that’s in need of some lovin’,” I said and she knelt down and took me in her mouth.

As I stood there being sucked, the conversation with her father came back to me and, looking down, I thought, well, the best blow job I could ever arrange for him, was kneeling right before me sucking me off at that very moment.

She leaned back, held my shaft and began licking circles around the crown as I laid my head back so enjoying every feeling. She varied the licking with slow sucks to the head as I felt myself getting nearer to cumming.

As she sucked me, I had this mental image of her sucking her dad’s cock and I know that the whole taboo eroticism of the idea caused me to cum before I normally would have.

After I’d cum, she stood up and said, “You were really horny this morning. Didn’t I fuck you good enough last night?”

“Oh, hon, you fucked me as good as ever. Just some especially salacious thoughts in my head this morning.”

“Oh, and what are they?”

“Mmm, just a guy that asked me if I could find him someone to give him a great blow job. I guess he never gets one at home.”

“And you thought I’d be just the one, right?”

“The thought had occurred to me, yes.”

“And it’s someone nice, someone I might like?”

“Oh, I’m sure of that.”

“And he’s not getting blown at home, poor puppy. So you want little wifey to suck his cum out for him.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had a new cock in my mouth. So, maybe I’d do it.”

Well, we went about our day after that but it hadn’t left my mind. It was two weeks before Father’s Day and I’d told Dean I’d set something up with a woman I used to work with, true enough, Tara and I had met on the job, and that I would get a motel room for the Sunday after next, in the morning.

I told Tara that I had the guy lined-up and that he didn’t want the woman to know who he was so she would wear the usual blindfold. She was fine with that and it all looked good to go.

I told Dean to come to the motel at ten in the sex hikayeleri morning and that I’d call him on his cell right before ten to tell him which room. I was to let him in, then he was to strip and put on a blindfold, then my friend would come out of the bathroom and suck him off.

I also told him I was going to make a video of it, keeping it so no one’s faces showed and he really seemed to like that idea.

I regularly videoed Tara’s exploits so she was expecting it.

We got to the motel about nine-thirty and I got the key and we went down the side of the building and I opened the room. It was a bit stuffy so I turned on the air conditioner, set it to bring in outside air while Tara got undressed.

I told her that neither one of them should speak while they were together and that I would tell them what to do if needed and would video the entire time so she could have a record of her sucking this grateful man.

Then, I stepped outside and called my father-in-law and told him the room number.

I got Tara into the bathroom and tied the blindfold securely around her head and went back into the room.

There was a soft rap at the door and I let in Dean and had him strip. I soon saw that he was greatly anticipating the morning’s activities, his cock was hard and swollen.

I tied a blindfold on him as well, then moved him next to the wall.

“I’m going to bring her out now. No more talking, okay?” and I opened the bathroom door and led my wife out by the hand. She followed my lead right to him, bumping into him.

Her hand went down and took his cock, then she knelt down and slipped her mouth over him and began sucking him off while I videoed it, trying to keep her face out of the frame.

I’ve been sucked by Tara countless times and each time is a whole new experience. She loves to give head and constantly searches the porn sites for blow job vids to see if someone has thought of something she hasn’t. She has learned well and now her father is on the receiving end of all her avid scholarship. She is masterful at extracting cum from a man.

I videoed her mouth, lips and tongue in closeup as she fellated her father, each of them totally unaware of the other’s identity.

He was groaning pretty much, I knew just how good she was and it seemed that she even backed off some so he might enjoy it longer, but, of course, in sucking a cock, the inevitable arrives and he arched forward and she began swallowing her father’s semen as quickly as it spurted into her mouth.

She sucked him a few more minutes, then stood up as his hands felt her breasts and she leaned forward to kiss him, tonguing his semen into his mouth as I knew she always loved to do.

Neither said a word to each other, just as had been agreed before they came together.

I led Tara back into the bathroom and told her I’d be right back, then went out and took off Dean’s blindfold.

“Well, was she good?”

“Oh, Ben, I don’t know where you found this woman but she is the best, the absolute best. It was the greatest. I guess I’d better be off, huh? See you later. Four o’clock, right?” he asked, referring to our Father’s Day cookout later in the day.

I confirmed it and he was soon dressed and left.

Tara was dressed when I opened the bathroom door and we were soon in the car headed home.

“Did he like it?”

“Oh, he loved it, he said you were the best. Just the best,” I told her as I reached over to squeeze her thigh. She spread open, moving my hand to her pussy which I rubbed all the way home.

As soon as I poured us some coffee, I showed her the video.

“That’s pretty hot. Let’s keep it, I’d like it on my computer. So, who’s the lucky fellow?”

“Any ideas?” I asked her not knowing how she might accept the news that she’d just sucked off her father.

“Well, I think it might be an older man, older than you by some.”

“Good so far.”

“Nice cock, though, it was fun to suck but, you know me, I love them all, right?”

“Would you do it again?”

“Sure, you know me. He sure had a great orgasm, I love whenever a guy does, I love that throb in my mouth right as he starts cumming. Mmm. I’d like to do it again, get it out, Ben, I’ll do you,” she said and we quickly got out of our clothes and she knelt down, now for the second time that Sunday morning, to take a cock in her mouth to pleasure.

I sat on a kitchen chair with Tara between my legs as she held my cock and began to lick and lap circles around the head, something she knows gets me wound-up pretty fast.

Then, she took some sucks taking me almost all the way in her mouth, ending with sucking the head as her fingers circled my shaft jacking me up and down. It wasn’t long before, just like her father earlier, I was cumming into Tara’s mouth as she swallowed away.

After we were dressed, I made a disc of the video and loaded it on Tara’s laptop with some other adventures she’s had, she and I, actually, and she watched this morning’s blow job with great interest, porno hikayeleri trying to guess who it might be. I also made a copy for her dad and emailed it to him.

“He’s obviously an older guy, he doesn’t shave around his cock and it looks like there might be a little gray hair blended in there.”

So, I let her try to work it out of me but I was not about to do that.

Chapter 2

Later, her parents arrived and I’d fixed drinks all around and we’d all changed into swimming gear for our pool.

We were all standing out back, drinks in our hands, everyone talking, when I noticed that Tara had grown quiet.

I leaned to her and whispered, “You okay?”

She looked up at me, squinting her eyes and said, very quietly, “I was just noticing the three moles, the big one and the two smaller ones on my dad’s stomach.”

Oh, shit, I thought, those moles were pretty clearly visible on the video I took. Now what?

“Can you help me in the kitchen?” she cooed sweetly and I followed her inside as she turned and asked, “Was that my dad this morning?”

“Your dad? Geez, would that be a turnoff?”

“Um, not exactly but I want to know.”

“It was.”

“Does he know? Know it was me?”

“No.”

A smile went across her face, much to my relief.

“Did you ever meet Deidre Marie Thomas, I went to high school with her?”

“No, I don’t think so,” I told her glad that she didn’t seem pissed off at me.

“She told me once that she sucked her dad off every night. God, I was so jealous, I just wanted the same for me. Well, look what’s happened. Bet you didn’t know that, did you?” and she reached up and kissed me. “Now when I watch that tape I’ll really get off from it knowing it was Dad.”

Amazing, truly amazing. I guess I’ll just never really fully know my wife, she just continues to show me new sides of her wonderful self.

We went back outside and the change was subtle but I’m long used to observing Tara and she seemed more, well, a little more touchy-feely with her dad.

Later, after we ate, Dean came over to me and asked, “Um, do you think you could set me up again with that woman from this morning? Maybe in a few weeks, you know, when I might need servicing again? I’d be happy to pay whatever she wants. That was some video, by the way. She’s got a beautiful body.”

“I can check with her and let you know. I don’t know that she accepts money but I’ll ask,” I told him and he added, “She was phenomenal, I just never knew a woman could be that good.”

“Oh, this one is, she’s proud of her skills and it shows.”

He agreed and we changed the subject.

Later, in bed, after some super-sex with Tara, I really think this whole thing with her dad had turned her on, I told her that he had asked me to set up a second session.

“He even offered to pay whatever you wanted,” I told her.

She laughed, saying, “Why break a perfect record of doing it for free. But he liked it, huh?”

“Oh, he loved it, hon. What guy wouldn’t?”

“Yeah, well, I am good. Little does Daddy know it was his sweet little daughter sucking down his cum this morning. God, this all makes me so horny,” she said and rolled me on my back straddling me as she pushed down, driving me up into her for another wonderful fuck.

As we lay there, totally spent, she asked, “What would you think if I just offered my dad sex whenever he wanted?”

“I guess I wouldn’t mind, I mean, I don’t see it as threatening or anything like that. And, you said you always wanted to suck him off. Now you have and, well, I know that he’d love more.”

“But, how do you think he’d take it?”

“Hard to say. Maybe I can think of a way to find that out?”

She agreed and the next day, I called Dean and the first thing he said was, “Ben, tell me the truth, was that Tara? I’ve been looking at the video you sent me and, well, the shape of her ear with that little notch on the lobe, well?”

I laughed, asking, “Would that be the worst thing possible if it were?”

“Now don’t take this the wrong way, Ben, but, well, your wife, my daughter, is one of the sexiest women I’ve ever known, something I’m sure you’d agree with. I personally think it would be quite wonderful if it was Tara.”

“You mean you’ve maybe had sexy thoughts about your daughter?”

“Ben, you get to see her naked all the time, I’m sure. So, what man wouldn’t have sexy thoughts about her, she’s just a super-sexy woman. If it was her, well, you are such a lucky man. And, I am as well. At least once. Well, was it her?”

“It was.”

“God, she gives a stunning blow job, Ben.”

“That she does. She wants to know if you’d like another?”

“Another, a second one? Are you kidding?”

I told him I wasn’t and that I would arrange it.

So, I told Tara and she said she’d call her dad and set it up.

Well, a week or so went by and I asked her if anything had happened yet.

“Oh, yeah, well, it did. Last Thursday, I left work early and went to Mom and Dad’s house seks hikayeleri to meet him. Mom was away for the day at my Aunt Meg’s.”

“So, he got his blow job?”

“Um, no, not really,” she said coyly.

“Okay, tell me what happened, this sounds interesting.”

“This time, of course, we both knew who each other was and we could see each other when we got naked and, well, things went further than a blow job.”

“You fucked your dad?”

“It was quite nice, actually, lots sexier than I would have thought. I assume you’re not mad, after all we’ve both had fun both on our own and together before.”

I wasn’t angry, not in the least, and I told her so.

“I think we should have your dad over so the both of us could have our way with you. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

“Even better, I think I’d just love that. Maybe we could do a whole day like that, that I would really love.”

“I can talk with your dad and see what we might be able to do,” I told her and she gave me a fucking I’d remember for a while after that.

I did talk with Tara’s dad and he told me that Myra was going to visit an old college friend she’d recently found again for the weekend after next. So, that was the date.

Tara was also talking with her dad a lot, mostly phone sex while they both masturbated and she kept teasing him that his day was coming, a whole two days to have sex with her with me adding in my share.

Well, the day finally did come and right after Myra drove off to go see her friend, Dean got in his car and drove to our house.

Tara was ready, she’d showered and shaved and primped herself, smelling lovely as she pulled on a pair of thigh-high black stockings to greet her father in.

As soon as he drove into the driveway, she was positioned behind the front door, beautifully naked except for her long stockings and high heels. As his footsteps sounded on the porch, she swung the door open to an open-jawed and very happy looking father.

“Omigod, look at you. You are so beautiful, Tara, just stunning,” he gasped as she closed the door behind him and took him in her arms.

They stood there kissing as I watched their hands caressing one another and soon she was leading him back to our bedroom as I followed.

She began undressing her dad, kissing where he was being uncovered and, finally, as she lowered his briefs, she kissed the tip of his hardened cock and slid her lips over it.

His eyes were closed as she began sucking him while I finished taking my clothes off. She sucked him a minute more then stood up and led him to our bed and they got in. I went to the other side and joined them as they kissed and groped one another.

“Are you ready to fuck me, Daddy,” I heard her coo in her sultriest voice as she rolled back and spread open. He got up between her legs, looked down and told her, “I’d like to start by giving you oral, honey,” and dropped down as she raised her legs onto his shoulders.

While he was licking and tonguing Tara, I was playing with her boobs and giving them sucks while she gripped my cock.

“Mmm, my Daddy knows how to make me feel good, just like you do, Ben,” she said as she gave me a squeeze. “He’s good, mmm, really good,” she moaned softly.

Dean kept licking and tonguing her as she squirmed around moaning softly, a sure sign that he was giving her exactly what she wanted. I moved my head up and kissed her, tonguing her mouth so that one of us was on each end with our tongues in her.

There were shivers as I kissed her, surely coming from the kissing she was getting between her legs, something I’d done countless times, something she’d always loved immensely. And soon she was shuddering and groaning through a strong and vibrant orgasm.

Her father lost little time getting up and pushing his cock into her before she’d quite recovered from her climax, it seemed that he wanted to keep her going.

His hands and my lips were on her boobs as she lay there spread open as he moved back and forth. Her hand was down rubbing her clit but also along where they were connected together, where he was sliding in and out so slowly, her fingers were moving along his shaft right where it went inside her.

“Mmm, oh, this is so good, both the men I love the most, mmm,” she moaned as we pleasured her on and on.

“I’m getting close, it just feels so good,” Dean moaned as he moved back and forth, then he let out a deep groan and pushed hard into her as Tara shook her hips while he cummed. “Oh, wow, so good, so good.”

“Oh, Daddy, I’m so glad I made you happy again. I love sex with you, Daddy, and your cum inside me like this.”

He pulled out of her and asked me to take over which I was happy to do. I got between her legs and slid right down into her slippery pussy to begin fucking her. She was so wet and lubricated by her father’s cum that I could take it all the way out and part her open entering her each time with a new stroke. It was how we loved to fuck when she was especially wet and open.

“That feels so good, hon, just keep doing it while I suck Daddy,” she purred as Dean moved up to put his cock within range of her mouth. She took him in as I saw him close his eyes in pure pleasure. I know, I’ve been there in her soft, warm mouth many, many times.

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Babes

So you call yourself pro-Black, a proud Muslim sister and Afro-centric and all that shit, but you still lust for White Christian flesh? I find that kind of funny. Ah, the many contradictions of Black Muslim women who secretly crave White Christian cock. My name is David James Lincolnshire, and I’m a young Englishman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I flunked out of Oxford University in London, England, and thought I’d give North America a try. I’m glad I did, because I’m having a lot of fun in Ottawa. I’m six-foot-one, lean and athletic, with blond hair, blue eyes and alabaster skin. I study business administration at Carleton University, and I am having a grand old time at Canada’s capital university. I was brought up in the Catholic faith, the one everyone likes to rag on. I’m proud to be a British citizen, a Christian and a believer in western society. Those who don’t like it can kiss my pasty White ass.

Right now, I’m sliding my eight inches of thick, uncircumcised White cock into the asshole of one Farah Ibrahim, a plump and somewhat matronly Somali chick I encountered at the social services office located near the Greyhound station in downtown Ottawa. I came in with a group of students from my sociology class so we could see how the other half lives, so to speak. I’ve always had a thing for mature Black women, I guess that’s why I noticed Farah Ibrahim right away. I approached her and we talked for a bit. I got her number, and I ended up calling her that night. I’ve been into Somali women ever since my halcyon days in the region of Sussex, England, where I was born. Lots of immigrants from places like Somalia, Djibouti and Senegal have been moving into England lately. A lot of White British folk don’t want them around because they’re Muslim and all, but me, I could care less. If you don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. That’s my policy on race, religion and pretty much everything else. I think it’s an enlightened policy, don’t you?

Anyhow, since you’re reading this story on a site dedicated to erotic literature, you probably want to get to the fucking. Please bear with me, I’m just trying to whet your appetite. A good chase and all that. If you want to leave, don’t let Pendik Escort the door hit your ass on the way out. That’s more than okay by me. I called Farah Ibrahim that night, and we ended up talking for two hours. I learned quite a bit about her. She recently returned to the Confederation of Canada from a yearlong trip abroad, and she visited countries like Kenya, Somalia, Djibouti and Ethiopia. She scoffed as she told me how disappointed she was to see these nations changed, mainly because of the influence of White devils. I smiled at that. White devil, I like that term. Honestly, I found this plump, hijab-wearing Somali matron quite appealing, and I told her as much. She laughed, saying that she was flattered. I have never believed in bullshit when it comes to women, so I told Farah Ibrahim what the deal was. I thought she was fine as hell and I wanted to have some fun with her. Farah Ibrahim waited a long moment to answer, then asked me where I was staying. I smiled to myself and told her to get her big shapely ass to my single-occupant bedroom located at the dormitories near the Minto Center at Carleton University.

Farah Ibrahim showed up at my place dressed all traditional and stuff. We’re talking about a long dress underneath a Black leather jacket, with a long silver hijab and everything. A lot of people in western societies are making a fuss about hijab-wearing ladies, but personally, I don’t mind them. I support banning the burka because ninja women are fucking scary, for real. I don’t mind hijabs because, well, Christian nuns wear something similar as a sign of faith in God and personal chastity. Like I said, I believe in democracy and western values, along with upholding Christendom but I am not a hypocrite. A lot of people don’t bat an eyelash if they see two gay guys groping each other on the subway but they get mad if they see some Arab chick reading the Koran on the bus. Fuck those bigots, man!

Anyhow, I welcomed Farah Ibrahim to my place, and she surprised me by asking me if I had any wine. Of course I had wine. The other day I went to the Loblaws supermarket and bought myself two bottles of Merlot, and a Dom Perignon of course because I’m a gentleman of Anadolu Yakası Escort taste. I just never expected a hijab-wearing Black Muslim woman to ask me for alcohol. Well, if Farah Ibrahim, the matronly Muslim sister with the big booty wanted to get liquored up, that was mighty fine by me. Like all good Catholics, I believe that we will be forgiven for our sins. Farah Ibrahim and I sat on the couch, and I watched her gulp one cup of wine after another. Hot damn, I didn’t know that Black Muslim women got down like that. I thought they were all shy, pious and chaste, and abstained of alcohol and sex to please God and the Prophet. I guess I was wrong in Farah’s case because she seemed to take to drinking wine like a cat takes to hunting mice. You should see that woman go, man. She was really something else.

Farah Ibrahim was done drinking, and now, she was looking at me the way a hungry person looks at fast food. I smiled and got close to her. We kissed, and then began undressing each other. I sat naked on the couch, stroking my thick White cock and watching Farah as she undressed. I asked her to keep the hijab on and she nodded. Her body was plump, with big tits, wide hips and a big round ass. Just the way I like my women. I’ve lost count of how Black Muslim women I’ve fucked in England. Women from places like Senegal, Gambia, Somaliland, Djibouti and Eritrea. I always go after the conservative ones who wear the hijab and act all shy and reserved around men. There’s no challenge in fucking a westernized Muslim chick, they’re usually bigger sluts than White women, trust me, as a White guy, I know what I’m talking about.

Farah Ibrahim and I got our freak on. The plump Black Muslim chick knelt before me and sucked my thick White cock, gulping it down and licking my balls for good measure. I returned the favor by spreading her shapely thighs and giving her pussy a good licking. She was a bit self-conscious about letting me go down on her, in part because, well, the barbarians who run her clan back in Somalia ‘modified’ her in the name of female purity and tradition. No matter how many times I see that while going down on a Black Muslim woman’s pussy, I can never get used İstanbul Escort to it. What kind of woman-hating pathetic excuse for a man would let such things go on in his family, all in the name of culture and religion? If I’ve got anything against Muslim men, it’s because of this practice. Nevertheless, I busied myself licking Farah’s pussy, doing my best to pleasure her.

Next, we got on to the main event. Farah Ibrahim got on all fours and spread her big brown butt cheeks wide open. It might surprise you that Farah Ibrahim, a Black Muslim woman, was so cool with anal sex. It really shouldn’t, partly because many women who have experienced circumcision don’t feel anything in their vaginal area and some of them only feel sexual pleasure through anal penetration. I’m not kidding, it’s the truth. If Farah wanted to get butt fucked, she came to the right Englishman. I applied lubricant all over her anus, then pressed my dick against her backdoor. Gently I worked my cock into her asshole, taking my sweet time. It’s never a good idea to rush into a woman’s asshole during anal sex. You might create a mess if you do. I asked Farah how she felt as I fucked her in the ass. In between moans, she told me she felt great. Taking that as a good omen, I continued fucking Farah Ibrahim’s warm and tight asshole, fucking her real good until I came, flooding her bowels with my hot, masculine spunk.

Farah Ibrahim squealed as I exploded inside of her. I slowly pulled my cock out of her ass. Just like I feared, we made a mess. I’m trying to be a gentleman about this, I really am, but this stuff is just too nasty and too damn funny to pass up. My dick was White when it went into the Black Muslim mature woman’s asshole, but it came out another color, if you know what I mean. I knew I should have told her to clean up before she came over. Impromptu anal sex is never a good idea, ladies and gentlemen, doesn’t matter who you are or what you’re into. Lesson learned for next time. I let Farah Ibrahim take a shower and put her in a cab. She asked me when she was going to see me again. I stroked my chin thoughtfully and calmly told her that she’d see me the day after never because she had a really nasty ass. Her eyes were still wide with shock as I closed the cab door and told the driver to go. I smiled, pleased with myself. I’m a White guy who likes to fuck Black women and dump them right after. I’m not a White knight in shining armor. I’m David James Lincolnshire, bitch, not Kevin fucking Costner!

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