Ay: Nisan 2024

Big Cock Fantasy

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Amateur

FIRST of all, before I relate this full story, I must explain that I have no complaints about the sex in my marriage. In fact, during the 12 years that Tony and I have been married, the sex has continually improved. And, truthfully, I suppose we’re both sex addicts.

I’m now 35, a year younger than my husband, and we’ve never hankered after having children. We’ve been quite happy as a couple, thank you, without any additional ties, responsibilities or restraints. We’ve always done pretty much as we want, when we want, and that freedom is priceless to me.

Our tastes are similar in many things and that especially applies to sex. You may find this hard to believe but, after all these years together, we’re still having sex sessions at least four times a week. And I mean sessions, not just five minute quickies (though we also frequently enjoy them!).

We’ve also been into the occasional fuck outdoors, got naked at the beach, watched a tremendous amount of porn (including live shows in Amsterdam), used toys and read erotica. In fact, anything that’s stimulating and different has been okay by us.

Another shared “hobby” is membership of a fitness gym and that has kept us healthy and trim and ensured we have the stamina for our between-the-sheets marathons. I’m quite petite at 5ft 4ins but my hourglass figure is still good, with a slim waist, 34B firm bust and rounded 36ins hips. Tony is 5ft 10ins, has broad shoulders and muscular chest, no beer belly and lean thighs. We’re both fair haired – and tanned for most of the year thanks to various holidays in the sun. One final thing, Tony’s cock enlarges from 5ins limp to 7ins of solid flesh, slightly above average, and he certainly knows how to use it.

But, and this was my problem, as much as I’ve adored Tony’s 7-incher, for several years I’d had a fantasy about being pleasured by a giant cock. You know the sort I mean, those possessed by porn stars and, so we’re told, the majority of black men. Anyway, a couple of years ago, during another Saturday night of passion, we watched a new compilation DVD.

We sat naked on the sofa, me gently playing with Tony’s semi-erect penis and him fingering my wet pussy. A gangbang scene came on screen and there was a brief shot of a cock which had me gasping. As I say, it was just a brief shot. The cock in question was in the background of the action but it looked to be about 10 inches long, ending with a gigantic mushroom head.

Tony heard my gasp and said: “What’s up, Jen?”

“Wow, didn’t you see that?” I breathed. “A massive cock in the back there.”

“No, didn’t see it,” said Tony, still intent on the action where a busty blonde was deep throating one slim guy while another was splashing cum on her ample chest.

Minutes later, the scene ended and I couldn’t help but sigh.

“What’s up?” Tony asked again.

“That cock, I didn’t see it again.”

“Special was it?”

“Oh yes. It was only a glimpse but, trust me Tony, it was something else.”

My husband smiled and picked up the remote. “Okay, we’ll run it back. Tell me when to stop.”

When the re-wind had gone far enough back I said: “That’s it, stop now. Remember, look in the background.”

Tony hit the play button and, seconds later, there it was: the mighty organ sticking straight out as the guy walked out of shot. I gripped Tony’s cock and said: “Wow, isn’t that some big dick.”

Tony used the rewind button again, stopped and then hit pause when the cock appeared. “You’re right, Jen, it’s a big ‘un alright.”

“Mmmm,” I said, thoughtfully and began to rub Tony’s cock.

Tony laughed and, slipping his finger in and out of my slit, said” “Jeez, Jen, you’re really wet down here. That monster’s really turned you on, hasn’t it?”

“Mmmmm.” I continued to stare at the screen.

“What’re you thinking? What it would be like having that cock inside you?”

I turned from the screen and looked at Tony’s smiling face. I took a deep breath, squeezed my thighs, trapping his hand, and said: “What I’ve got in my hand is just fine thanks.”

“Pleased about that,” he said and leant to kiss the tip of my nose. “But you must admit that got you excited.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’m sure a lot of women get turned on by big cocks. It’s a fantasy, isn’t it?”

“Suppose so. Is it your fantasy?”

I let the question hang in the air for a moment, then said: “I’ve thought about it. But, truthfully, I’m more than happy with what you give me. Anyway, I’m not sure my pussy could take a monster like that.” I nodded at the screen. “I mean, look at the size of that head. It’s enormous. It would split me open. And then there’s the length. What is it? Ten inches or more? God, I can’t see that coming inside me.”

“Well, you’re certainly wet at the thought of it,” smiled Tony, removing a finger from my sopping fanny and popping it into his mouth. “Mmmm, delicious,” he said.

His cock had stiffened during our chat and I looked at it in my hand. Pre-cum was seeping and I bent to lick it away and then kissed his growing head.

“At kaynarca escort least I can get your lovely cock in my mouth and pussy,” I said. And then I straddled Tony’s lap, reached for his throbbing member and poised it at my entrance before easing down, taking his full length in me . . .

The following Monday evening, I was first home and preparing dinner when Tony came into the kitchen and plonked a bottle of my favourite Shiraz on the breakfast bar.

“Lovely, thanks honey,” I said pecking his lips.

“I’ve got you something else. A surprise,” he said. “But it’ll wait until after we’ve eaten.”

“No, don’t tease. Give it to me.”

“No, you’ll have to wait. It’ll be worth it. I’m gonna get out of this suit now. Be down soon.”

To be honest, as I remember, it was probably the quickest meal we’d shared and Tony kept topping up my wine glass. When we went into the lounge and settled back on the sofa, my glass was again full and I took a generous sip.

“Okay, where’s my surprise. I’ve been patient.”

“Patient? Don’t think so, Jen. You couldn’t wait to finish eating. You’ll be lucky not to get indigestion.”

“Oh, come on, stop messing me about.”

Tony got up and went into the hallway. He came back carrying a parcel, wrapped in brown paper. “Here’s your surprise,” he said.

“Fancy wrapping I see,” I said with a smile and took the oblong package from him.

“Discreet wrapping,” he said and that got me wondering – and excited.

I tore off the paper to reveal a plain white box. “What is it?” I asked.

“Just open it, Jen.”

I pulled the top open and peered inside. “Oh,” I muttered, and put my hand in to withdraw my gift. I stared at it, turning it round in my hands and finally said” “It’s huge Tony. What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Well, you were so taken with that big cock on the film that I thought I’d get you the next best thing. Something to satisfy your fantasy.”

I shook my head and laid the giant black dildo in my lap. “It’s enormous. I mean, really, how big is it?”

Tony produced a tape measure. “Thought you’d ask,” he said. “Here, measure it.”

I took the tape and first measured the length “Eleven inches,” I muttered. “And, wow, six inches round the shaft.”

“Measure the head,” said Tony.

“Unbelievable . . . that’s eight inches.”

“So, is that big enough for you?”

I looked at Tony’s expectant face. “Big enough? Crikey, Tony, you’re big enough for me. And that eight inch vibrator I’ve got is big enough when I’ve got six inches inside. What am I gonna do with this?”

“Hey, Jen, we’ve watched films where girls take in massive cocks. And, let’s face it, they wouldn’t sell these toys if you couldn’t use ’em. Anyway, the bloke in the shop said it was an actual-sized model of some black America porn star.”

I looked at the toy in my lap and picked it up. I felt it’s girth, admired the bulging vein running along it’s length – and that giant bell end. How on earth would I ever get that past my pussy lips into my love tunnel?

“C’mon, Jen, have a drink.” Tony gave me my wine glass. “Thought you’d be pleased,” he said quietly as I sipped the Shiraz.

I looked at him, saw hurt and disappointment in his eyes. Yes, I hadn’t exactly thanked him for his thoughtful gift. I was just too taken aback by the monster tool in my hand. Okay, Jen, I thought, you’ve often wondered what it’d be like and now here’s your chance to find out. Be grateful for what your loving husband has done.

I smiled. “Sorry, honey. I do appreciate it . . . it’s just soooo big. Think I’m a little frightened to be honest. Yes, I’ve thought about what it might feel like but I never honestly thought I’d get something like this.”

“That’s okay, Jen, I understand. But it’s your fantasy and I’m only trying to help. I could get an extension for my cock if you like. You know, those latex condom-style things that add a couple of inches.”

I thought about that. “That might work,” I mused, “but then it wouldn’t feel like you. I mean, we’ve never even used condoms. It’s always been bareback and I like that, feeling your cum inside me or splashing up my belly and on my tits when you pull out. A dildo or vibrator . . . well, that’s different altogether, different experience, isn’t it?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, toys are toys. Just thought this might answer some questions, that’s all.” He looked at me earnestly.

Truthfully, by now, I was more relaxed about the whole thing and was getting a little bit wet down there. “Okay,” I said with a smile. “Thanks my love, let’s give it a go, shall we?”

Now Tony grinned. “I bought some more tubes of lube while I was in the shop and …” he reached into his pocket … “some extra-sized condoms for your new friend. They should help it slide in easier.” He pulled out the packet and offered them to me.

“I’d like you to get me warmed up first,” I said. “I think I’m gonna need to be in floods for this giant.”

I put the dildo on the sofa between us, stood up and started küçükyalı escort to remove my blouse and skirt. That’s all I was wearing. Tony grinned and said: “Wow, you’ve trimmed your bush again.”

Indeed, now I had just a few wispy hairs leading down to my bare pussy. I put my right hand over my pubis and slipped my middle finger into the crevice. I was surprised how wet I was and I became even wetter when Tony moved my hand out of the way and licked his tongue along the puffy lips. I sat down again and leaned back on the sofa as Tony knelt between my spread thighs. Licking, sucking and fingering … I was soon heading for orgasm. My thighs tightened as I stretched out my legs, arching my back and holding my breath as the sensations built deep within me. Then I exploded, exhaling loudly and writhing wildly as wave after wave of electric shocks blitzed my heaving body.

Gradually I regained some composure and my legs stopped trembling.

“You’re certainly wet now,” said Tony as he lifted his mouth from my groin, his lips and chin wet with my juices. He handed me the dildo. “Try that when you’re ready,” he said and stood up to strip off his clothes. I noticed his cock was semi-erect but he shook his head. “I’m okay, Jen. Just concentrate on you and that big cock.”

“I may be wet but I think we need a condom on this thing,” I said.

The sheath fitted halfway down the bulging shaft. That somehow made it seem even larger but I put a cushion under my buttocks, raising my hips and still-soaking pussy. I took the dildo from Tony and spread my legs wide. I looked down between my round breasts, over my flat stomach and the wispy hairs and brought the gigantic mushroom head towards my entrance. Tony stood before me, slowly masturbating his erect cock as he watched.

I put the dildo to my pussy lips and moved it up and down, teasing and exciting and preparing me for . . . I didn’t know what. Pain? Joy? Both? With both hands wrapped around the shaft, I edged it towards me and felt it nudge into my hole.

“That’s it,” said Tony soothingly. “Get that monster in there. Live out your dream”

His cock was now swollen and I knew he was excited by what he could see: his wife with a monster black tube knocking at her love door.

Sweat was on my brow as I tried to insert the head. I could feel my pussy stretching but I just couldn’t take it. It was too big. I took it away and relaxed my taut thighs.

“It’s no good, Tony,” I gasped. “I can’t take it. It’s just too much.”

“It was nearly in,” said Tony. “Look, let me get some lube for you and let’s try again.”

“Okay,” I said, because I didn’t want to give up. I knew then that I really did want to be filled with a massive dick, to feel a gargantuan tool riding up my belly.

Tony applied the lube to my lips and inserted two fingers. “Okay,” he said, “you’re well ready.”

“You do it,” I said. “You put it in me, please. I’ll just lie here and enjoy it without all the pulling and pushing. Just like being properly fucked. Okay?”

“Course, baby,” he said. “I’ll be gentle and slow. Just tell me to stop if it gets too much.”

I nodded and relaxed back, closing my eyes. I imagined the toy going deep into me and I was excited and ready for this new sensation. God, I’d thought about it for long enough.

I felt Tony’s fingers parting my lips and caressing my swollen clit. I squirmed a little and a “mmmm” of appreciation left my mouth. Then the huge head replaced Tony’s fingers and again it nudged just inside, seeking entrance. “That okay, babe?” he asked. I nodded, eyes closed and my mouth tightly shut, waiting for the thrust that would break into my tunnel.

Ouch, I thought, as a little more cock head stretched my opening. That hurts. I felt that I was about to be torn apart, ripped to pieces, but I clenched my fists and waited. Surely there will be some benefit from such a big intrusion. Otherwise why would women seek giant dicks? And they do, you know. And, haven’t I seen enormous pythons on porno films and in magazines?

“Nooooo,” I screeched as a pain seared between my legs. ” Stop now, Tony” I wailed. “Take it away.”

I was panting, my stomach heaving with every short breath. But Tony hadn’t moved. “Okay, honey,” he said softly. “But there’s only about an inch in.”

I opened my eyes and glanced down to my crotch. “Well that’s an inch too much, then,” I gasped. “Take it out.”

Tony slowly withdrew the fake dick: at least two inches had penetrated.

As I recovered, I gingerly put my fingers to my hole. “No damage,” said Tony. “You’re okay. Think you just need to be able to relax more.”

I pondered that. “Maybe,” I said doubtfully. “But, you know what Tony, you’d need hell of a lot of pleasure to make up for the pain. That did hurt, love.”

The dildo was left on my bedside table for the rest of the week and, when I put out the light, I always looked at it and wondered how on earth anyone could take in such a powerful, thick weapon. And enjoy it!

Tony encouraged me to hold it, play sancaktepe escort with it, and put the head in my mouth. Even that stretched me to the limits. But, after a couple or so days, I began to warm to the idea again. Perhaps I’d imagined the pain, exaggerated it. Perhaps it wasn’t really that bad.

I told Tony that I was thinking I might try again at the weekend.

Each night we’d watch videos and DVDs of long cocks servicing eager girls and I started to think I was being foolish. If they can do it, surely a sex bomb like me can . . .

Tony suggested that after lunch on Saturday we should go to bed. Then he said: “I’ve got us something that might help.”

In the bedroom we stripped off and, as it was a warm day, I lay on top of the duvet, pillows propped at my back. Watching Tony get naked, I could feel my nipples harden. We frequently watched porn both before and after sex and I wasn’t surprised

when Tony put a disc in the player. The film would be shown on the large flat-screen TV on the wall at the foot of our king-size bed.

As Tony clambered on the bed on my right side, I started to get aroused. I’d been thinking about this all week and, although still apprehensive and unsure I could manage the king dong, I was eager to try.

“Right,” said Tony pressing the play button on the remote. “Remember I told you that your big black toy was a life-like replica of some American porn star. Well, he’s the star of this film. In fact, there’s five different scenes . . . ah, here we go.”

On the TV screen, the face of a bald black man appeared and the words “Take it if you can” appeared followed by “starring the one and only Marcus with Sondra, Debbie, Karen, Sylvie and Sharon.”

This opening credit was replaced one at a time by nude poses of the five girls, Sondra and Sylvie were black and stockily built. “Yep, bet they take it up alright,” I thought. Debbie was blonde, long-legged and had a chest that couldn’t be real; Karen was a slim brunette (rather like me) and Sharon was also blonde with bouncy knockers.

I reached for Tony’s cock, which was beginning to grow, and he put his left arm around my shoulders and his right hand held my right breast.

In the opening scene, Sondra was lying naked on a bed. She was fondling her huge black melons and soon brought one nipple to her mouth and sucked greedily. The camera stayed on this for a few minutes and then scanned slowly down her body, over her wobbly belly, to a hairy pubis and meaty but firm thighs that were wide open. The camera then panned back to a longer shot as Sondra reached for a vibrator and began to roll it along her thighs and then among her bush. A few minutes of this – Tony’s cock was now quite firm in my grasp – and a door opened and a slim black man entered.

“That’s my girl,” came a deep, chocolate voice. “Getting ready for your Marcus, I see. Well, girl, your waiting’s over.”

Sondra put aside the vibrator and kneeled up on the bed. Her mammoth melons swung as she reached up to give Marcus a hug. “Let’s get your damn clothes off Marcus,” she said. “I’s done waiting.”

His white sports shirt was whipped up over his head and tossed aside while Sondra grabbed at his belt buckle and slid the belt free. That, too, was discarded and Sondra turned her attentions to the zipper. With that undone, the camera zoomed in as the pants were drawn down over Marcus’ slender hips. And then, there it was, the long black meat tube dangling free.

“Oh my,” I said. “Just look at that. It’s gotta be 8inches just hanging there.”

“Yeah,” murmured Tony, “bigger than mine when it’s hard like now.”

I squeezed his cock just as Sondra reached out and lifted the Marcus cock up to her plentiful lips. They parted with a smile, showing white teeth, and she fed the head into her mouth. A side shot showed Marcus’ growing head being sucked in and then Sondra leaned in, slowly taking more of his shaft into her throat. “Good god,” I whispered as a least nine inches were withdrawn. Glistening with saliva, the cock swayed as if in a breeze. It was now beginning to rise and Sondra beat it against her huge tits, first the left and then the right one. Then she wrapped her tits around the gorgeous brown baton and rubbed them up and down.

Tony squeezed and gently tugged my nipple and I responded by slowly tugging his upright cock.

After a few minutes of tit-fucking, Marcus said: “On your back, baby, and get those legs spread.” Sondra obeyed and the camera lingered on her open pink vagina before the shot changed to Marcus. His monster was now horizontal to the floor and that mushroom head looked even bigger than my dildo. Automatically, I reached to my bedside table and got hold of my toy. It felt enormous in my left hand compared to Tony’s in my other hand. I placed it on my thigh, the head facing me just as the camera closed up on Marcus’ throbbing dick. He took hold of Sondra’s legs behind her knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Then she put her ankles on Marcus’ shoulders and he held his cock in the fingers of his right hand, presenting the cock head to her exposed opening. He ran two fingers of his left hand up and down her crack, said “Girl you’re one wet bitch” and pushed his mushroom dome between flappy lips. Sondra let out a loud “oh fuck, oh fucking fuck” as the head broke through.

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Au Naturel

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Big Tits

My name is Nicole. I was born in the countryside. When my brothers, sisters and I were young, we could play in our back yard naked, especially in warm days, to sprinkle water from a garden hose or in an inflatable pool; or also, shower under the rain when this was light and fresh. But as we grew, we became conscious of the changes that happened in our bodies and got embarrassed; also, my parents were involved in a fundamentalist sect, and they discouraged us even more. Although I accepted, in principle, the new teachings, sometimes, I missed the freedom of the nakedness.

One afternoon, I prepared the pool after an especially exhausting study session, and when my parents saw me, now retired, they condemned me by saying:

“How dare you go out like that, you shameless…? Did we educate you for that? Go inside and get some clothes on!”

I went into the house, crying, not much for the shame, but for the fear that in that moment my parents instilled in me. I showered in the bathroom, but it was not the same. They imposed me several more humiliating punishments than I deserved for my indiscretion, and from then on, I yearned to find my “garden of Eden” where I would never again be embarrassed, nor would another person be for my cause.

That incident confused me, but it also motivated me to study in order to excel. I keep my body slender by exercise and a healthy diet, and perhaps for that reason, my bust is also small. For that reason, and for the upbringing of my home, I had to dress more modestly, and avoid the bad habits and excesses of other schoolmates, who also come from very religious families, but privately, they stray from a moral life. For good or for ill, I lost my virginity with a very attractive boy, in an outing near a lake, where I didn’t dare to “skinny-dip” among my friends. He had a condom, but at first, he didn’t want to use it. I insisted and he accepted, because the mere fact of having spent one on me gave him the pride that there was something to prove that he is already a man. The caresses were pleasant, but he ejaculated very quickly, leaving me unsatisfied. For that reason, we didn’t go steady.

I decided to study computer science, since it is the most profitable short career that I could get. Exploring the Internet, I discovered the pornographic pages, and although I had already seen magazines and videos during my adolescence, thanks to my siblings and friends, they didn’t satisfy my ideal. It was exhibitionism and reckless sex, not the true natural beauty of the human being. Besides, there are hidden costs, in terms of billings from remote places and danger of computer viruses, like with indiscriminate sex in the era of AIDS.

After graduating and going to work in a company that builds web pages, I took time to look for information on nudist camps and beaches, and at first, I didn’t trust the results of the search engines, since they were a pretext for orgies and other abuses. Even so, I visited some, and I even had to join them, at least on a trial basis, complying with their requirements, that is, identifications and Social Security numbers, medical certificates and criminal records, evidence of residence and income, etc. At first, I felt at ease with showing my body “au naturel” without attracting attention, either for lewdness or for condemnation, but not every member was up to par with nudist morality. The erection in penises was tolerated, as long as it didn’t last, and the presence of pubic hair was left to each one’s preference. I allowed it to grow sometimes, and other times, I shaved it. I also experienced with creams and wax, and I didn’t know which one irritated me more, whether the razor or the other products.

There was a problem if two or more people got too aroused, they sometimes didn’t have the privacy in order to satisfy their desires, or they didn’t have prophylactics at hand, since there was not always in which to carry them. The ideal was to do it in cabins, but some could not contain the desires nor hide. Anyhow, I had to return to the real world to earn some money in order to maintain this lifestyle.

After several years of trying, I was undecided between two that I found: one family-oriented and another more liberal. In this one, the organizers were smart enough and placed kiosks and even vending machines suadiye escort for condoms and creams, which could be debited from a special expense account. There were participants that didn’t use of that material, but didn’t bother others who required them.

Two encounters impressed me more than most. In the first one, I went for a walk at a trail and a young man, whom I will call Mark, came from a nearby river. He smiled at me and was stopped to chat with me. Soon he got excited and he went along to get the prophylactics, but upon returning, he came with another male, called Edgar. This made me nervous, but upon seeing that both already came prepared, a desire for both took possession of me, and I went along. They took turns kissing me in the mouth, and after intertwining their tongues with mine, I conquered my fear. They passed to suck both my nipples and they gave me an orgasm in advance. Edgar licked my clitoris for a while, while Mark held my body on his, setting my thighs on fire with his throbbing penis. The guy in front of me got up and inserted his penis in my vagina slowly, and began a quick sway. He slowed down, and he even stopped in order to accommodate the other guy so that he could penetrate my anus. I protested, so they desisted, and Mark had to wait for Edgar to finish. He pressed harder inside me when he ejaculated, and he barely had the strength or willpower to leave my canal. When he did, he leaned by my side, and he caressed me and he kissed me gently while his friend thrust in me a little more quickly, between both, I achieved another substantial orgasm, and we took a rest.

After a brief nap, we washed the semen and the mud that stuck to us in the river and they returned to their cabins. I walked more slowly, not so much for the fatigue, but in order to savor this new sensation of such intimate contact with nature. I wandered a little more and I met with another three men: Paco, who was over fifty years old, Douglas, taller, thin and of a light complexion, and with a penis that matched the shape of his body, and Jairo, of darker complexion, and shorter than the others. The young ones had condoms, but the older guy did not. The game among all began, and these gentlemen came with a definite idea: finding three holes in me to penetrate them simultaneously. They caressed me, and between playful advances and retreats, as testing each other, I gave in. I sat on Doug, impaling myself with his penis and I moved as if I was riding a horse. His penis reached where no man had reached before, and although I had a good orgasm, I didn’t want to stop. Paco stopped in front of both of us and offered me his penis so I would suck it. At first, I didn’t want to even open my mouth, but the pleasure that my “mount” gave me convinced me to accept it. The gentleman became hard inside my mouth, but he stayed flexible enough so that I wouldn’t choke. I felt that the one who was left out embraced me from behind, fondling my breasts to increase the pleasure that I felt. He pressed his small but thick penis against my buttocks, and the warmth was heavenly. Little by little, he moved closer to my anus, but I could not scream with my mouth full with the old man’s penis, who in that precise moment, ejaculated, but didn’t pull out from my mouth. He even held my head while he lost his erection. Jairo entered very slowly, but, even so, it bothered me, because in fact, his penis is fatter than that of the others. The elder even gave him directions:

“Like that, slowly; wait for her to open up, and when she does, you push in a little more.”

I trembled, because the sensation changed gradually from pain to more pleasure. Now the one that I had on my back governed the pace of the others, even mine. He wanted to stroke in and out quickly, but he held back, at least, for one or two minutes. Upon seeing the scene, the one that had in front of me recovered the erection and he even achieved another small orgasm, and this time, his semen slipped out of the corner of my lips. The young ones went stiff, as a consequence of their intense orgasms, the throb of their ejaculations inside their condoms triggered mine. Now, Jairo and I remained spooned in the bush, while he lost his erection and I expelled his member. I tried to rise, but instead, I staggered, because in my fatigue, my rectum yakacık escort hurt again. The redhead carried me in arms to the river, and there, between caresses from all, they helped me to wash. we had no more desire for sex, but we rather relieved ourselves by urinating in the water. The anal act caused me an unexpected defecation, between pleasant and painful, which the river also took away. Little by little, we returned to our cabins, and although I keep pleasing memories of this experience, it is too strong to repeat.

In fact, I stopped visiting the “orgy” camp, and I became more interested in the other one, whose atmosphere is more family. The only thing, other than nudity, is that it’s more rigid in terms of conduct, like my hometown; after all, people bring children along. There we learn how to strip the disguises and the sense of unease with our own bodies. It was a more spiritual place.

I became interested in working with the children, so I became a day-care assistant. I even gave introductory computing courses to the older children, who must attend regular schools, and to adults. I also built the camp’s web page, where we expressed our particular philosophy, so it would not be misconstrued as a porn site. Little by little, the work became full-time, since the parents went out to work in the dressed-up world, and in the afternoons, they pick up the children, still dressed, to retire to their cabins. Even so, nobody is embarrassed by the contrast.

One day, a single young woman, with a lot of curiosity about our ideas, began to live and to collaborate in the community. She asked many questions, but I convinced her to be more discreet. In order to satisfy her queries, I took her along for walks in the woodlands, so we could converse in total honesty. In one of these walks, she felt aroused and a little embarrassed, because besides the erect nipples, which are quite common between nudists of both sexes, her vulva was very wet. She looked at me very expressively, and began to grow wet there below. She extended her fingers to touch me and I allowed it. We sat against one of the trees, deep inside the forest, and then, her caresses were more sexual. We embraced and she kissed my mouth. I felt very nervous, but she was even more. Then, I was filled with an intuitive understanding and I corresponded to her kisses. She caressed my small breasts and had fun stimulating my nipples. I began to knead her tits, a cup size larger than mine, and stroked her nipples with my thumbs. She groaned raptly, and she became more moist. We went over each other’s bellies and thighs with our hands, lips and tongues, until moving into a 69 position. I began to kiss her labia, impregnating my mouth and my cheeks with her fluids while she did the same to me. From time to time, I touched her clitoris with my upper lip or with the tip of my tongue, and she shivered. I believe that she felt an orgasm every time that I did this, because when she corresponded to me, I felt them. Feverishly, I picked up her clitoris between my lips, as if it were a penis, and I suckled it vigorously. At first, she was very dizzy from the orgasms, but she soon got into doing the same to me. Now I was the one who couldn’t think straight. The only thing that I was able to do was to hang on to her clitoris not letting it go, and the vibration took care of the rest. The multiple orgasms reached a “crescendo” and with one last spurt that seemed women’s semen, we lay spread at the foot of that tree.

We had more stealthy encounters like that, and we even did in our cabins, but somehow, she lost her interest in nudism. Perhaps she regretted our lesbianism, because I felt likewise. We also received a little pressure for our conduct, because we set a bad example to the youth. When we said goodbye, we embraced to cry, she dressed in order to leave and I naked in order to stay. By e-mail, she told me that she got married, and sometimes, she visited us with her husband. He felt very uncomfortable in our atmosphere, but he consented to get undressed in the nature trails. As a married couple, I respected them and they only had sex between them, and mostly, in the cabin. Even so, they admitted to having enjoyed their love outdoors in a few occasions. But anyway, they preferred to lead their lives in the real world.

For şerifali escort some years, I lived there, working in the same job, and I was even elected to the board of administrators. I helped to verify the new members, trying to identify patterns of conduct or attitudes that would put the stability of the commune in danger. Another young man came from the more permissive colony, called Thomas. I almost interrogate him like a detective to a suspect; I even had to ask how many times he had sex and with whom. At first, he was amused, insinuating that I wanted him, but little by little, he lost his patience as my questions became more incisive, in my concern that he could molest a minor. What inconvenienced him the most was having to admit that he had a homosexual encounter in the other commune, having to do everything, suck and be sucked, giving and getting it in the anus. When we got to that part, I left him alone.

After several days of adjustment, he began to live together with more ease, and he admitted me the following:

“I don’t hold a grudge against you for what you forced me to say, honestly. After seeing the beauty of this place and the people, not merely by being nude, I understand how much you should look after your community.”

“Forgive me, I didn’t want you to make you feel uncomfortable, but…”

“It’s all right, I already told you that I understand. I also know that you find me attractive.”

I don’t know if she said as a boast in order to protect his masculinity or simply, I insinuated that to him, but anyhow, nothing else happened this time. He helped repair cabins until he got employment in the outside as a mechanic. Sometimes, he visited ne in my cabin or he invited me to his, at first, in innocent activities such as listening to music or talking, but soon the topic of sexuality came up. I had already left that group before Thomas joined it, so I felt curiosity by knowing how life there came to be after I left.

One afternoon, in his cabin, he moved his hand to take mine while we had dinner, and I didn’t refuse him. It was a nice gesture. We let go to continue eating, but when we sat on the sofa to rest listening to soft music, he took my hand again, and I smiling, I gave it to him. He had an erection and I became moist, but we tried to act casual. But his game of seduction continued, and he turned his face in front of mine and he kissed me. The heat in my vagina encouraged me to kiss back, and I led him to his bedroom, where he already had a condom on the bedside table. I told him, in a not too serious reproach:

“You planned this all along!”

“I admit it: I am guilty as charged! I want you and I love you.”

I hugged him and I kissed him, while I put the condom on him, and I lay on his bed for some brief caresses and obligatory kisses to my tits. I told him:

“All right, get it in me now!”

“Don’t you want me to caress your vulva first?”

“No, my love. Just do it.”

He penetrated me immediately, and I felt a blaze coursing through our genitalia. He moved in and out slowly, savoring the sensation. While we embraced, he moved his arms from my back to my buttocks to grab me better. He tried to caress my clitoris, but that caused me to squeeze his member not painfully, but rather bringing both of us to the brink of getting off too soon. He reduced his rhythm, and although I was able to handle his weight on me, he leaned back and gave me innocents caresses, in spite of the fact that he had me totally skewered with his manhood. He suddenly announced to me:

“I’m coming!”

And he began to move quickly. I squeezed my vaginal walls to get in touch with his orgasm, and it worked. We both screamed from pleasure while he pressed his abdomen against mine. His testicles throbbing against my perineum did the trick for me, and I also ejaculated. He pulled out of me to remove the condom, and although unsteadily, he led me to wash up. He urinated with force and he said that the sensation was almost like another orgasm. When I did so, I agreed with him.

He walked me back to my cabin and he said goodbye to me, wanting to enter in order to have more action. I stopped him, saying:

“Didn’t you have enough for a single night?”

“I thought that you would be ready to more.”

I imagined that he got word of my orgy in that other camp, but I didn’t take it wrong. Simply, I kissed him and I pushed him out gently. He gladly returned to his lodging, with the hope that there will be more opportunities in the near future.

To be continued…

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The Seduction of Gina Ch. 02

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Aj Applegate

Gina was lying on her back in my large soft bed, her breathing urgent and deep, moaning low in exquisite pleasure, her head moving left and right, right and left, her fingers running desperately through my hair, as I buried my face and tongue in the newly soft, smooth, fragrant slit between her legs.

When we woke together in my bedroom and my bed the morning after our first night of luscious lesbian love, we snuggled together for a long time before we finally got up and went into my large walk-in shower stall, luxuriating under the gentle streams of warm water, rubbing each other’s backs, and fronts, with lots of fragrant, sudsy body wash and a wonderful new herbal shampoo and conditioner combo I’d recently found on one of my shopping jags in the mall.

We also found the time for some slow, sensuous embraces and kisses, our breasts and lips pressing together under the warm running shower.

The little vixen had her hand cradling my pussy, her fingers probing inside of me until I was too overwhelmed with arousal to stand any more. I had to sit down on the built in shower seat. Gina followed me down and brought me to a spectacular orgasm.

As I leaned back against the warm tiles in blissful release, she continued to kiss and fondle my sex. “Ummm, Jools, you are so nice and smooth. You promised that you’d show me how to trim my own pussy like yours….” she reminded me.

“I will, honey, ooooh… I will, in just a moment… ummmm….” I replied. The only sound in my bath was the warm running water and acıbadem escort the sounds of flesh on flesh as she continued to kiss and suck upon my sex.

Finally, I brought her face up to mine and kissed her deeply. “Thanks, love, that was incredible,” I thanked her. “Now I’m going to reward you. You are really going to love this.”

I gathered all the tools I’d need to make her as smooth down there as I was. I assembled and cleansed them thoroughly, directed my hot little lover to sit down on the built in shower seat in my place, and got to work freeing and smoothing the silken skin and sensitive folds of her sex from her natural, silken curls.

I definitely took my sweet time doing it because I enjoyed being allowed to see and touch and fondle the most private and luscious parts of her body, and because I wanted to give her pleasure, too.

By the time I was finishing up the job and rubbing in a generous dollop of a gentle flavored warming lubricant all over her pussy, Gina was so wild with arousal from the extended steamy session that she was nearly hysterical. I’d kept the shower water running slowly in the background to keep the stall nice and cozy warm. Her pussy lips were wildly swollen into a dark crimson. She was getting me excited all over again.

“Ohhh, Jools, please touch me there…. I need you to…. oh, god….”

“I can do better than that, baby. Come on, let’s get back into bed for awhile,” I replied, taking her hand to lift her up and throwing a large soft fluffy atalar escort bath towel around her and drying her off while she stood there in the middle of my bath.

I dried off my own body and led her back to bed, lying her on her back on the mattress and propping her cute little ass up on a pillow to give my face and hands easy access to her honeypot.

Then I began to minister to her needs and desires in the best way I knew. I began slowly, tracing my fingers about her mound and pussy lips, followed by a maddeningly exciting trail of kisses up and down the contours of her sex.

“Oooohhh, Jools, that feels…. soooo heavenly… ooo, god!!! Oooooo!”

Soon I was rhythmically kissing, licking, and sucking all of her sex and the most sensitive parts of her into ecstasy once again. She thrust her head back on the pillow behind her, began a series of deep, fast, frenzied breaths and gasps, became all flushed red in her face and throat and breasts, and then came and came, for what seemed like several minutes, loudly. I kept upon her, drinking in her juices, licking her sex softly as she flew high in her pleasure, and until she came down, gently, gradually, in my embrace.

My little girlfriend was panting through a frenzied series of orgasms, “Hah… hah… ahhhhhh… ahhhh!” breathing through her mouth. Then she became very quiet and still before she pulled my face up to hers and we pressed our lips together and her tongue found its way into my mouth and I held her as she likes to be held aydınlı escort for a long time.

“Mmmm, Jools, thank you for making me feel so good, god, you are such a wonderful girlfriend…”

I opened my eyes as we laid there and I saw that her nipples were still quite aroused. I thought they must be very sensitive so I was gentle while my fingertips traced around them and my tongue found them. I sucked them into my mouth one after another. “Does that feel good, honey?” I asked.

“It feels wonderful, Jools, everything you do feels wonderful…”

“How do you feel, baby?” I asked again.

“I feel as great and as exhilarated as I’ve ever felt in my life,” she replied, her hands caressing me up and down my back. “I couldn’t ever imagine how heavenly it is, making love with another woman…”

“There’s still a lot more for you to experience, Gina… It only gets better from here…” I teased her.

“I don’t think I could stand any more pleasure, I just might melt away, Jools,” she giggled.

“Well, we’ll go slow with you, show some mercy, but don’t expect too much. You get me so excited, girl, that I can’t control myself…” I continued to tease her.

“Ummm… you’re so bad, Jools. So, so bad… you are such a bad, bad, girl…”

“Yes, I am. I am bad. The baddest. And proud of it.”

She looked at me warily and then we both laughed.

“C’mon, time for some breakfast. Woman can’t live on love alone,” I teased her.

And with that we dressed and headed for my kitchen and our first time together, our all night and early morning lovemaking session, officially came to a conclusion. But there would be plenty more for us to experience together in the incredible world of lesbian lovemaking, with Gina as my precocious star student.

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A Weekend to Remember Ch. 01

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Brunette

I have been separated from my wife for 2 months. We have been planning this weekend for a more than a month. This weekend, without kids, without work, the only things that we are responsible for is to please each other. This weekend is about exploring our sexuality. It is about her giving herself completely to me, as my lover, my wife and trusted friend, and now, Slave. This is something we both want, but have never actually done. We have played with toys and teased each other for long enough, but this weekend starts the beginning of a new bond between us. This weekend I will be her Master, and she will be my Slave. As my Slave, I will require her to only wear lingerie while in the hotel. For this weekend, every orifice she has will be mine and I will treat it as such. She will do as commanded or face the punishments I have in mind for her. This is only the beginning.

She comes in on Friday and leaves Tuesday. This story is about what I want to happen over this weekend. How I want to show her my sexual domination over her and what it will be like as my Slave.

I see her pulling up for the first time in a long time. She drives around to pick me up, my bag in hand. No sooner is the truck in park, than she is out and running towards me. Her blonde hair flowing freely behind her, her perky breasts bouncing against her tight shirt, and her yoga pants hugging tightly against her beautiful legs, showing off her gorgeous curves that I love so much. I am awestruck at the sight. It has been so long, and I instantly feel a heat rising in between my legs. I feel blood already flowing to my crotch. She runs up and hugs me and kisses me passionately on the lips. This is not the time for dominance so I kiss her back running my hands down her back and onto her ass. After a minute or two, we realize that we need to get going for the hotel, so I throw my bag into the back and we climb into the cab of the truck. She gets in the passenger side and slides to the middle seat to cuddle up next to me.

She rests her head on my shoulder on the way to the hotel. I rub my fingers in between her thighs slowly going farther and farther up. She opens her legs to allow me to pleasure her. I rub on her pussy through her yoga pants. It doesn’t feel as if she’s wearing underwear. Good, I told her not to. I slip my hand under her pants. Yoga pants are awesome, they stretch very well. She is moist between her southernmost lips, and her breathing is heavy. I begin to play with her clit, and spread her cunt lips. I ease one finger in, then two as she opens her legs as wide as she can in the truck to allow me full access. I begin to finger fuck her slowly as we drive down the interstate towards the hotel. I can tell she is building towards a wonderful orgasm. I will not allow it, not just yet anyway. She sighs heavily as I withdraw my fingers and pull my hand out of her pants. My fingers are wet from her juices. I put them to her lips and she licks and sucks them clean.

We arrive at the hotel, just in time for her breathing to return to normal. We check in and carry our bags to our room. Our room overlooks the city. A wonderful view at night, I think to myself. We are staying at a 4 star hotel, in one of their suites. There is the bedroom with a king size bed, a small office area, and a small living room kind of place with a reclining chair. That ought to be fun, I thought to myself looking at the chair. Ideas began to swim in my head about positions she would be in on that chair and things I would do to her. I shudder with excitement. We unpack our things and sort out the toys she brought with her. Dildos, butt plugs, and our under the bed restraint system we bought a while back, to name a few. Since she was tired and sore from the 10 ½ hour drive she had embarked çekmeköy escort on at 1am this morning. I decide to let her shower and take a nap if she would like while I go get dinner and make a few other stops before that.

She begins to undress and I see her beautiful ass swaying as she walks. She stops in the doorway to the bathroom and turns to look at me. I look up into her eyes and she smiles as she walks the rest of the way in and does a complete 180 turn so that I may see all of her. Her breasts, so full and firm, staring back at me as I long for my mouth to be around them, twisting and pinching her nipples. And her love mound, hairless and clean. I can see the shine from where she was wet from the ride to the hotel on the inside of her thighs. She smiles again at me and blows me a kiss. I turn and grab the hotel key and leave.

My first stop is a local sex shop. I pick up lube and I decide to try one of those pills that supposedly make you last longer before you cum and make you harder. I’ve had any experience with them so I figure this weekend is better than any other to try them. I look around and find a medium size butt plug. She has gotten used to the small one, but the next size up is huge, so I grab the medium size one and pay for my things. I don’t have all night, but I don’t have to rush. I grab my bag of goodies and my receipt and walk towards the door. My next stop is the liquor store. There I grab my wife’s favorite stuff, Nuvo. I get a bottle of Gentleman Jack for myself and also a 24 pack of Yuengling for the weekend. My final stop is Papa Johns. I get us our pizza and then start my way back to the hotel. I have been gone 2 almost 3 hours.

When I came in with the pizza, beer, liquor, and the other bag, I find my beautiful wife asleep in the bed. I can see with the covers pushed back a little that she is wearing only lingerie, as I had asked. I sat on the edge of the bed and she slowly opened her eyes. She smiled like a little child when she saw me. I brushed her hair back behind her ear and kissed her gently on the lips. “I brought us some stuff,” I said.

“What’d you get? I smell pizza.” She replied.

“Yes, pizza, beer, Nuvo, and Gentlemen Jack. And also, I stopped by somewhere else special for you.” At that she perked up, knowing that it had to be something sexual. I caught her eye and winked at her. “You will see it soon enough, calm down.”

“Ok, fine.” She pouted. “I am hungry, let’s eat first.” I agreed and we began to eat and watch TV. We laughed together and talked. Common things you do while eating with someone you haven’t seen in two months.

After our movie on TV, we take a couple shots and begin our fun. She is still only wearing lingerie. I order her to get on her knees. She obeys with a smile on her face. Kneeling in front of me her eyes slowly drift down my body to my chest, then abs, and then they rest on my cock. She can see the bulge in my pants. I am only slightly larger than average, works fine for me. “Take it out,” I tell her. And she eagerly complies. She unzips my pants and pulls my cock from its restriction. It springs out and she begins to go to work. She takes me fully into her mouth and sucks hard. One hand strokes the shaft, while the other plays with my shaven balls. She rolls them in her hand and sucks on the head of my cock. I can already feel my cum building up inside me. I know this is not the time, but it feels so good. I put my hand on top of her head and hold her still; I slowly thrust myself as far as I can into her mouth. She almost gags, but holds still. Her nose pressed into my pubic bone. I trimmed it short just for her. Just for this moment. She looks up at me with my cock deep in her throat. I pull out so she can breathe. cevizli escort I release her head and walk around behind her. I undo the clasps on her bra, it’s very sexy, I would hate to ruin it with my cum stains. “Take it off,” I harshly tell her. She is obedient and lets it fall to the floor. “Not there, fold it up and put it on the table.”

“Yes, Master.” She picks it up and folds it and carefully places it on the table. She wisely returns to the position she was in before. When she stood up, I could see the marks on her knees from the carpet. I grab her by the hair and stand her back up. I slide her panties down to her ankles and she steps out of them. I ball them up and shove them in her mouth. My cock still at attention and rubbing against her ass cheeks leaves a trail of precum. I use my foot to kick out her feet and spread her legs. I spread them out farther than her shoulders are. She is spread wide and almost off balance. I don’t want her falling so I grab a chair and push it in front of her. She uses it to take care of her balance.

I walk around behind her and enjoy my view. I spread her ass cheeks apart and rub my forefinger down her crack. Slowly teasing her rosebud and moving on to her cunt. I act as if I am going to press one finger into her, but I back off. I hear her whimper. Expecting it. I slap her pussy with my hand and she rises up onto the balls of her feet and squeaks. I do it again, and again she squeaks. I pinch her clit and rub it in between my fingers. She begins to moan. I stop suddenly and smack her ass hard. “Remember Slut, you have to ask for and receive my permission to cum,” I tell her.

“Yes Master,” is her muffled reply. Drool is beginning to run down her chin after soaking through her panties. I can see in her face she is begging for it. She needs this pain/pleasure orgasm. She is looking straight forward and swaying back and forth, waiting to be spanked again, or finger fucked, or something, anything. I am enjoying the view. A nice red handprint is beginning to show on her right cheek. I use my left hand to make a matching one on the other side. She grunts slightly as it was unexpected. I smile to myself. I kneel down, so that my face is level with her ass and cunt. I spread her ass cheeks with my hands and lick her rose bud. She squeals and reaches back for me. I stop and stand up.

“Stay just like that,” I command her. I leave the room and return with a pair of handcuffs. “Since you cannot stay in your position, and you insist on moving around, these will help you.” I handcuff her through the back of the chair. I walk back around behind her and kick her feet a little wider. Now she is uncomfortable and helpless. I smack her ass again and again. I kneel back down, admiring her red ass. It must be stinging, I think. I get up and go to the mini fridge. I grab an ice cube and return, kneeling behind her again. I take the ice cube and rub it over her back side, she flinches at the cold, and I rub it over the red marks, slowly down her crack and letting it sit on her asshole for a second longer than everywhere else. She begins to whine from the cold, and she wiggles her ass. I grab her thigh and hold her still. Moving on, I rub it down to her dripping pussy and freeze her pussy lips with the ice cube. I rub it all over her cunt. I take what’s left of the ice cube, and walk to her front. I pull the panties out of her mouth and give her the ice cube. She hungrily takes it in and sucks on it. While she enjoys the ice cube, I return to behind her. I fondle her tits as I walk by, twisting the hard nipples. She moans in pleasure. I slide two fingers into her pussy, which is readily available and welcoming. I begin fucking her, hard, slapping her cunt with my open hand. The TV barely audible erenköy escort over the sloshing sounds of my hand in her cunt and her juices dripping over my hand and onto the floor. She is moaning loudly and begins to grip the chair. Her knuckles are turning white and her face is turning red from the pounding in her pussy I am giving her. I stop suddenly and pull out my fingers. She moans in sadness and disappointment. I unlock her hands from the chair and stand her up. Her legs are weak from being in that position for so long.

I take her to the bedroom and lay her down on her back, letting her legs rest. She had set up the restraint system sometime between her shower and nap while I was gone, just as I had instructed her too earlier in the week. She is obeying to the T. Good for her, I thought. I grabbed the straps and buckled them to her wrists and ankles. This spreads her open like a starfish. I then take a quarter out of my pocket and gently place it on her stomach. She gives me a confusing look. “If that quarter falls off your stomach because you cannot control yourself, you will be punished.”

A smile crosses her face. “Yes, Master. I understand.” I can see in her eyes that she is almost hoping the quarter will grow legs and jump off the bed. I smile back at her. This weekend is turning out perfect. I look at the clock on the bedside table and realize it is getting late. We are here in town to do more than just fuck, I think to myself. While she is strapped naked to the bed, I begin to undress for her. Giving her a little show to help with her anxiety to cum. When I am finally naked, and my cock is staring straight at her, I climb on top of her, conscious of the quarter. She counters the weight to keep it in position.

“Good job, Cunt.” My knees are at her arm pits and my cock is close to her chin. “Open your mouth, Slut, and take my cock.” She opens her mouth and lifts her head up and begins to bob back and forth on my cock. I lean back and reach around to her soaking wet pussy lips. I spread them open with my fingers and stick my middle finger in. I play with her pussy as she sucks on my cock. I can feel her getting wetter. She eases off my cock and looks at the precum forming on the tip. She looks into my eyes and she tongues my cock hole and drinks my precum. I stop fingering her and find the quarter. I throw it over to the table and pull my cock from her mouth, strings of saliva and precum still connecting my cock to her mouth. I crawl backwards away from her to the end of the bed. I walk around and unlock her wrists from their restraints. I edge her towards the end of the bed, her pussy soaking the blankets under her. Her ass cheeks are nearing the edge of the bed and she begins to squirm, trying not to fall completely off. I sit on my knees and it seems I am just the right height to ram my cock into her aching pussy. She is still leaning back on the bed. I thrust back and forth into her, she screams in a mix of pain and pleasure. My cock is much bigger than my fingers, thank God. I push my hands under her back and help her lean up to me. We kiss passionately and deeply. Exploring each other’s mouths with our tongues, as I thrust into her again and again. She cums and I feel the walls inside her spasm and release her juices onto my cock. I am ready to burst myself, so I pull out. I stand up and spray my seed all over her stomach and tits. I milk every last drop of cum from my balls, out my hard shaft and onto my Slave, my Slut, my Wife.

After we regain our breathing pattern and come down from our natural high, I unlock the restraints from her ankles and she closes her legs immediately. I know her legs must be aching. I let her lay there for another minute or two before I stand up and reach out my hand. She politely grasps it and I help her up. Her legs shaky from the evening’s activities. I lead her into the bathroom where we take a shower together. “This is only the first night, My Slave.” We rest against each other, knowing this weekend will be a weekend to remember.

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Artistic Freedom

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Ass

“A private session? Private, as in–“

“One-on-one,” Professor Williams said, leading the way into the university’s atelier-and-drawing-studio multipurpose room. It was somewhat hidden in the back, behind many corridors and rooms full of workbenches, supply shelves and closets, arts projects, sculptures, busts, installations and paintings stacked upon paintings. Normally the halls were full of activity, but it was Friday evening just after 10 and everyone except Professor Williams seemed to have gone home already.

Well, everyone except Professor Williams and her favorite student. “Alice is a double major, has applied to be my research assistant and interns for an artist featured at the modern arts museum on the side. She politely asked me if she could have you for a more engaging and experimental private session, for a project to do with her internship and her thesis.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I told her you probably wouldn’t mind. You will be paid extra, of course, because of the unusual hour and the spontaneity of it all.”

“It’s not, uh… I mean, thank you.” I didn’t want her to think I was greedy. Really, sitting around naked or half-naked for an hour or two and being ogled by a couple of (mostly female) arts majors wasn’t hard work in comparison to, say, working at a warehouse. The university already paid more than fairly as it was. “It’s just unusual, isn’t it? The one-on-one thing, I mean?” I was used to more than twenty pairs of eyes staring at me over the brims of canvasses. I tried to figure out which one of them might have been this Alice chick who had picked me out of all the possible male models for her special little project.

“Well, her parents are generous donors to this school,” the professor said and threw me a meaningful glance which then softened a bit. “And also very demanding of their daughter, I must say. Very demanding. I have to admit, I have a bit of a soft spot for Alice. She is perfectly affable, clever and unbelievably disciplined for a nineteen-year-old but hopelessly overworked, and she needs all the help and support she can get. I thought I might help her out this once. You really don’t mind I volunteered you, do you, Mr Morrison?”

“Not at all,” I shook my head. “What does this ‘engaging and experimental session’ entail, exactly?”

“She can tell you personally,” Professor Williams said with a smile and opened the door to the studio, gesturing for me to go in.

***

I was standing on the little oval pedestal, an empty wooden chair next to me. Seven spotlights were pointed right at me, making my skin prickle with warmth and sweat and blinding me from all sides.

The artist lurked in the darkness behind them. She hadn’t shown her face, merely called out from a little side room that I should take off my shoes and shirt and get on the pedestal. I had done so, thinking that she would step into the light sooner or later, maybe arrange my limbs and body around personally. That’s what Professor Williams had done the last few times.

Instead, she had told me to “just stay right there”, and then said nothing else at all. I had heard her move around behind the spotlights once or twice, maybe setting up an easel or something, caught a shadowy outline and movement — that was all.

Alice was making this session a mystery. It was irritating and slightly rude.

It was also undeniably special. Tense, in a good way. A little exciting.

We were most likely the only two people in the entire building at this hour. I was a tall man, strong and defined by muscles — perfect for modeling, really. Judging by the sound of her voice and the lightness of her step, she was probably one of those waif-like women, delicately built, weaker than me in any case. If we had been able to see each other, I would clearly have held the upper hand as I did in every one-on-one interaction with any female, whether we wanted it or acknowledged this fact or not.

Instead, she decided to keep me on my toes, keep me guessing. Was she watching me from the side? Looking into my eyes? Sliding her gaze down my pecs or my muscled arms? Watching the ripple of my abdominal muscles as I breathed, following the V until it disappeared into the waistband of my jeans? Or was she standing behind me? Appreciating the way my jeans hugged my ass? I couldn’t help a smile when I imagined her watching me, being affected by me.

“Sit,” her voice suddenly rang out from somewhere to my left. I turned my head but saw nothing beyond the blinding white halo of the spotlights.

I pulled the chair into the center of the pedestal and sat down. “How do you want me, baby doll?” I asked into the darkness, intentionally lowering my voice to a sexy, slow drawl and tacking on the endearment just to lay it on thick.

There was no answer for a full minute. I almost thought she might have left.

“You are at home,” she said eventually instead of giving me proper directions.

I rolled my eyes. Okay, now the power game was getting bağdatcaddesi escort on my nerves a little. Perfectly affable, my ass.

At home, huh? “Well, then.” I got up again, undid the button, unzipped the fly and shoved my jeans down to my ankles so that I was only in my underpants. Then I stepped out of the puddle of fabric, sat down again, slouchily draping myself over the chair, one arm dangling over the backrest, legs spread nice and wide as if I was on my sofa, in front of my TV. And because there wasn’t a beer in my hand despite the fact that I was at home, I slid the free hand into my underwear and cupped my cock. “Home, sweet home,” I called into the studio’s apparent void.

There was another long pause. Just before I could pull my hand out again — because really, I was being a bit of a dick — I heard, “Don’t move.”

No ‘please’, no ‘try not to’, no ‘if you can’. “Demanding,” I commented and tried to not feel weird as I sat there with my hand on my cock, my knuckles and fingers clearly outlined by the tight but stretchy material of my flesh-colored boxer briefs.

“Quiet,” she said.

I pressed my lips together to stifle my next comment and only laughed through my nose. Very demanding parents, very demanding daughter.

Uncounted minutes passed. I sat with my eyes half-mast against the unrelenting glare of the spotlights, drops of sweat rolling down my neck and back, and regretted my boldness a little. I wondered if Professor Williams would ever ask Alice exactly how the picture she was currently drawing — maybe? I had no way of knowing if she was actually busy, or even still in the bloody room — had come about, and if I would have to find myself a new side job soon on account of being a fucking pervert. There was a fine line between art and porn. It was sometimes blurry, but it was there.

Also, I kinda wanted to touch myself properly. My cock was ready and a little voice in the back of my head kept egging me on. Do it, see what happens. See how she reacts.

Would she watch? Would she keep drawing? Let me have at it for a minute and then tell me not to move?

Would I comply?

“You can take a short break,” Alice’s voice called from behind me, and suddenly all the spotlights went out at once, leaving me blinded by the darkness. I sat up, stunned to be robbed of my sense of sight.

I flinched when something cold touched my arm.

“It’s water,” she said, and I groped for the bottle, found the cap already unscrewed and drank greedily. I moaned at how good the cool water felt going down my throat.

“So, is this your shtick? Leaving the sitter literally in the dark?” I asked and wiped my mouth with my arm. My eyes were starting to adjust. There was a bit of light coming in through the windows, even with the curtains pulled shut. The lights were on in the next room and the door was a bit ajar.

“It creates tension that’s interesting to capture,” she defended.

I lifted my hands even though she wouldn’t be able to see it. “Not criticizing. It’s just an unusual idea. Gotta say, I kinda like it.” It was definitely more interesting than the run-of-the-mill ‘strike this pose’ and the tension she had mentioned was undeniably there.

“You are very sure of yourself,” she said, just a little reproachfully.

I grinned to myself, sitting there in nothing but my underwear, toned body covered with a sheen of sweat. “Well, yes.”

“Do you want to go on?”

I got up, felt my way to the edge of the pedestal with the naked soles of my feel, put the now-empty water bottle down on the floor and gingerly made it back onto the chair. “Bring it on, Miss Alice.”

I expected the lights to go on again. Instead, I heard a step behind me and then felt something brush against my face. I flinched back and ducked to the side, dodging whatever that was. “What the-!?”

“I’m bringing it on, Mr Morrison,” her voice rang out from right behind my chair. “Now hold still.”

I swallowed and forced myself to sit upright and to stop fighting. A soft material that smelled of something flowery and pleasant laid itself over my eyes and pulled tight against my face and the tops of my ears. She made a knot at the back of my head. A blindfold. I felt her fingers brush against my hair and my scalp prickled a little. “Kinky,” I remarked, my voice a little rougher than I wanted.

“You’ll leave that there,” she said, already turning away because she knew I would do what she said.

And I would.

It was crazy, but it set my blood to a low boil — both the order and the obedience.

“Relax your arms.” I did, putting my hands on top of my thighs.

She switched on one of the spotlights — I could see the shimmer through the dark blue material of the blindfold and felt the warmth against my right side — and rummaged around the room for a bit. Eventually, she placed something heavy right in front of me on the pedestal. A chair or a stool. She sat on it. I heard the rustle beykoz escort of clothes, the creak of leather.

My skin shivered as if touched by hundreds of feathers, really reacting to her sheer closeness. It was as if I could feel her looking at me — and not just looking, but looking. I thought I could even sense how the air was moving through her breath. Again, the guessing game began. Which part of me was she looking at? Which part was she caressing with her eyes right now? Did she like what she was seeing? If so, how much?

I strained my ears. The spotlight was buzzing and humming softly from the side. The heel of her shoe clicked as she set it down — crossing or re-crossing her legs, maybe? There was the soft scrape of pencil or charcoal against the paper of a sketch-pad, and the occasional swish of fingertips as they smudged and blurred the lines to add shade or depth.

But there was also something else. I could swear I heard a wet sort of sound, like soapy hands rubbing together, or like a sloppy, slick little—

“Oh, my God,” I murmured and felt my head tilt to the sky in baffled disbelief as the reality of the situation sank in. “Alice-“

“Shhh,” she admonished. The sound trembled – because she was so agitated, because she was moving her hand so fast, jostling her own body, making her own abdominal muscles twitch with the sensation, because she was breathing too hard to speak evenly. Her puffs of air were so obvious now although she tried to keep silent. She was panting softly. How long had her fingers been busy already?

I pictured her, not even five feet away from me, her eyes fixed on me unwaveringly, one hand sketching me, the other in her panties between her spread legs, working the wetness around there until it bled through and showed as a darkening, round little patch on her white cotton panties, the skin of her face and her throat and neck covered in sweat from the spotlight and from the exertion of keeping quiet for so long, her lower lip clamped so between her teeth it would be plump and red as a cherry once she let it go.

Was she playing with her clit? Which finger was she using? Was she circling it or stroking it directly? Or did she shove her finger into her wet hole? One finger? Two? Three? How far? How hard?

My now-engorged cock jumped and strained in my underwear. I could hear her suck in a breath and the wet sounds became more frantic.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” I moaned low, and got another trembling “Shhh!” in return. I ignored it for now.

“Tell me what you’re seeing, Alice,” I said. Pleaded.My cock was painfully hard by now. My hands itched to slide over to my bulge and provide some relief. “Describe it to me. What are you doing? What are you thinking? Tell me, I want to hear it.” I need to hear it.

“Keep quiet, Mr Morrison,” she bit out breathlessly.

“Tell me or I’ll take the blindfold off,” I threatened.

She inhaled sharply, maybe because her model’s disobedience frustrated and scandalized her, or maybe because she imagined what would happen if I went through with my threat and the idea excited her.

“Alice,” I said her name sternly and lifted my hand to the cloth that lay across my eyes.

“I see your body,” she hastily began, stopping me in my tracks. Something clattered to the floor. Her sketch pad and the pencil. “You’re beautiful and so big. I want to—to touch you and lick you everywhere. Feel how hard you are and how you taste.”

Lick. Hard. My cock jerked again in my underwear. I grabbed it through the fabric, sliding my foreskin up and down for some friction. “Yes.”

“But I’m not allowed to touch you,” she almost whispered. “If I ever touched you, I know you’d ravish me like the beast you are.”

I groaned. I was feeling really beastly right now but I didn’t want her to stop talking.

“You would push me down on the pedestal, onto all fours, and you’d hold my head down easily while you fuck my pussy with that huge cock.” She whimpers. The slick sounds get louder still. “I’d cry and beg but you wouldn’t stop. And the others wouldn’t help me, either. They would watch us and make drawings of us.”

“Fuck, you kinky little slut,” I cursed. Of course she had to be one of those. Doing the watching all the time and lurking in the dark, wishing deep down for the tables to be turned on her, forcefully. Typical repressed, well-bred rich girl.

“I want to make a drawing of your hard cock,” she confessed breathlessly. “I want to draw it with the pre-cum dripping down-” She fell silent when I hastily lifted my hips off my seat far enough to shove my underwear down to my knees, making sure that she would be able to see the wet spot on the straining material. Then, I palmed my cock and gave it a hard tug and let my head fall back with a groan.

“Oh, God,” I heard her hiss. “God, yes. Harder.”

Dutifully, I jerked my cock with my fist, flicking the wrist at the slick tip, pulling the foreskin, pumping my hips slightly in countermotion. caddebostan escort With my other hand I circled the base to hold it upright and keep it pointed toward her so she could look her fill. I wanted her to take it all in. I imagined her watching shamelessly and hungrily, eating my throbbing shaft up with her eyes.

“You gonna come from watching me jerk my cock, kinky little slut?” I asked her. She mewled something unintelligible about veins and riding and her hole, and the sounds of her fingers pushing in and out of her overflowing pussy became almost comically loud and obscene. I thought I could smell her musk in the air.

Then she abruptly fell silent and I knew that the orgasm had gripped her so hard she couldn’t even breathe.

Only after many seconds did a long, high-pitched moan stutter out of her and she gasped for air like she had just run ten miles — or like I had just hammered into her for hours and exhausted her.

I pictured my fat cock shuttling in and out of and stretching her virgin hole — I somehow knew she had to be a virgin, all pretty and untouched, so pink and shaved smooth — and saw myself burying it to the hilt so that the head kissed her cervix. In my mind, she pushed against my stomach and my thighs with her small hands, leaving charcoal smudges all over my skin as she tried to make me slow down, begged me to be gentler even as her cunt sucked me in so readily and perfectly- “Oh, fucking– fuck-!” My hot cum spurted onto my stomach and thighs. The second pump dribbled down over my furiously working knuckles and dripped onto my balls.

Spent, I took in big gulps of air and let the aftershocks run through my body. Eventually, I wrestled off the blindfold, squinted and rubbed my bleary eyes.

The chair in front of me was empty except for a glistening wet spot made of sweat and pussy juice at the front edge of the seat, and there was a broken bit of charcoal on the floor of the pedestal.

With a satisfied smirk that wouldn’t leave my face, I got up to collect my clothes, searched the pockets for a tissue which I could use to mop up my jizz, then put the clothes back on — leaving the underwear with the wet spot lying on the pedestal. She could keep it.

As I was leaving, my eyes fell on the lone easel that stood in the room. I went to it and turned it toward the light of the spotlight so I could see the drawing.

It was me, sketched in quick but sure strokes, with my hand down between my legs, stroking the hidden semi-erection there. My whole body was depicted in detail that went past mere depiction, exuding exactly the kind of confidence and comfortable tension I had felt. The face was cloaked in shades and darkness but the feelings were obvious even without a facial expression.

Fuck me, she was really good. There were more canvasses stacked behind that one and down on the floor, but I didn’t look at them. I had a feeling that, sooner or later, I would run across them in some vernissage.

“Next week?” I called out into the room, counting on the fact that she would still hear me wherever she was hiding this time. “Same time, same place?”

Dead silence. I wondered if I would show up here next week regardless of confirmation, just on the off chance that there would be a sequel to this — because fuck I wanted that sequel. Also, I really wanted to see that one picture she had drawn of me blindfolded while playing with herself. I wanted to see if I could spot her elevated heartbeat in the drawn lines of that sketch, or the very moment her iron control had broken.

“Be punctual,” her voice came from somewhere behind the spotlight just as I put my hand on the doorknob.

I huffed a laugh. “Or else what?” I asked, and laughed again when she didn’t reply except by closing the door to the side room behind herself.

***

Friday evening, 10pm. Professor Williams didn’t accompany me this time. The empty halls with the flickering overhead lights were almost spooky but I was too keyed up to care.

The entire week, I had dreamed and day-dreamed about last Friday. My brain was stuck on the mystery, had latched on to it hungrily and gorged itself on it. I had searched for audioporn online to somehow recreate the feeling — and found hundreds of files full of wet sounds and little breathy moans and muttering — but it wasn’t the same. Every young woman I came across on or around campus turned into a potential Alice, but then it wasn’t her.

I couldn’t wait to meet the real Alice again.

I entered the lioness’ den and noisily shut the door behind me.

“You are late,” I heard her call. It was sweeter than any ‘I have missed you’ in my ears.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I called back and received no answer.

The spotlights were already on, and the chair was there again.

I threaded my way through the lights and the electric cables, stepped onto the pedestal and examined the object that lay on the chair’s seat, first with my eyes, then with my hands.

A round leather ring, like a collar for a small animal, clipped shut with fat, round silver buttons, and a metal ring fastened to it. A cock ring and harness.

I want to make a drawing of your hard cock, I remembered her saying. I want to see the pre-cum dripping down.

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I laid in bed and listened to her soft, gentle breathing. My arm was draped over her warm, naked body and my hand held hers, our fingers laced together in the predawn darkness. My mind was still reeling and erotic but angst riddled images filled my head as I replayed the previous night on a continuous loop in my mind.

I had met my wife in middle school when I was dating her best friend Jessica. Karen and I hated each other at first and when Jessica and I broke up I didn’t see either of them for several years.

Karen and I reconnected during our sophomore year in high school and became friends and drinking buddies. I liked Karen as more than a friend but she wasn’t interested in dating me and I was content to just hang out. The following year that changed (I still don’t understand why) and we dated for almost 8 years before we finally got married. The marriage went well for ten years then hit a speed bump. We were bickering a lot and rarely having sex. I met a woman online and had a year long, long distance affair. Cheryl lived 2,000 miles away but she was much like my wife in many ways. She was married with two kids and had similar interests in travel and cooking. She was curvaceous, busty and sexy and I really thought I was in love with her but our relationship was tumultuous.

The difference between my wife and Cheryl was purely sex. Cheryl had an open mind and a wild side where as my wife, while not pure vanilla, was reserved with definite opinions about what was good and bad sexually.

Cheryl and I both separated from our spouses and talked about being together forever. We were both hungry to explore our kinky, deviant minds and few subjects were off the table. She was bisexual but she’d had only had one brief exploratory experience with a woman. We talked about swinging and joined websites to meet and talk to like minded people. We dabbled in the BDSM lifestyle. We both identified as switch so we took turns playing the dominant and submissive roles. Cheryl opened my eyes to my own latent curiosities and interests but after almost a year together our relationship became unbearably toxic and unhealthy. I broke up with Cheryl and my wife and I eventually reconciled.

Ten years after I ended my affair, Cheryl and her wild sexuality continued to torment me. I longed for the open lines of communication we had shared and for her open mindedness. I knew we couldn’t work as a couple and in most ways other than sex my marriage was going well but I missed the rush of uninhibited sex and I really missed Cheryl pushing my sexual boundaries.

Karen hadn’t always been reserved and almost prudish. We’d had some wild times before we were married. She and I had sex on a public beach at night when we were young and I had seen a man watching us while we fucked. We had done other risqué things as well but after our first child was born she closed her adventurous side and sex became boring, monotonous and for the most part our marriage lacked passion so I sought other ways to release my pent up energy.

I had always enjoyed writing. I’d written short stories and I’d begun several novels but I never managed to finish them. In the 90s, before I met Cheryl, I began secretly writing erotica. My early stories were first time lesbian themed and written under a pseudonym. They were mostly stories of seduction and after Cheryl opened my eyes to some deep seeded urges the topic of my erotica changed to focus on my own bicuriosity and other taboo subjects.

I had written hundreds of tales of exploration. They were a healthy way of coming to terms with my taboo, carnal urges without cheating again and as I became comfortable with my desires my stories began to evolve. My fantasies which had often included bisexuality began to focus on cuckolding and cheating wives. My biggest fantasy was to watch my wife with another man but I wasn’t a typical poorly endowed cuckold. I had a good sized dick but the urge to see my wife with a really well endowed man became almost an obsession. At first the race of the man wasn’t important to me but overtime the men I saw her with in my head were almost always black.

Karen had long insisted that she was not attracted to black men. She made subtle discrete comments to reinforce her position but I had seen anecdotal evidence that disputed her claims and I often suspected that the lady doth protest too much. I had seen her checking black men out when she thought I wasn’t looking and numerous time when we were out at a bar (and once while vacationing in Jamaica) she was approached by black men. Each time it was apparent that she was with me but they never seemed to care and I often wondered if she sent unconscious signals or if they caught her looking at them before they approached.

My curiosity about interracial cuckolding built steadily and I watched a lot of interracial porn to satisfied those cravings. In the back of my mind I wanted to make my fantasy a reality but I wasn’t sure how or even if it was possible. I began fikirtepe escort to read up on cuckolding and I picked the brains of men and women in the lifestyle with whom I spoke online.

I was certain that my wife would balk at the idea of an open marriage or even a stag/hotwife dynamic. She would certainly think, because of my prior indiscretion, that I wanted to screw other women rather than just watch her with other men, but that was not my motivation.

When Karen and I had first reconciled after our five month separation she had expressed regret and dismay. She had told me that she wished she had dated other men while we were apart because she knew that I had. The night had I broken up with Cheryl she had called Karen and told her about the affair. My wife had begrudgingly taken me back but I slept on the couch for the first month and we didn’t have sex again until I was tested for STDs. After that our sex life flourished for a long time but a decade later we were in a lull. That was when I began searching for a way to let her fulfill her once stated wish to explore other men.

I was, as far as I knew, the only man she had ever been with. She had come close before we started dating with a few boys in school and she may have had her own infidelities in college that I was unaware of since most freshman girls cheat on their boyfriends. But I was basing my actions on the assumption that I was her only lover.

Karen had announced in 2015 after returning from a girls trip to Mexico that she wanted to have a midlife crisis. We were out with friends and she had been drinking at the time. When I asked her later what she meant by her earlier statement she was evasive, only saying that she wanted to do something crazy and out of character. She assured me that she didn’t want to cheat on me but I suspected she did. My baseless suspicion was that she was approached and flirted with a man in Mexico but nothing happened. That experience had awakened her dormant urge to experience sexual relations with another man but she was afraid to tell me since she knew not of my cuckold fantasies.

In early 2017 I began conversing with a black man about cuckolding me and seducing my wife. I didn’t think it would ever happen but it was a fun fantasy. He gave me tips to test my wife’s receptiveness to being with a black man and he also put other lurid thoughts in my oft twisted mind. I began to ask Karen questions to gauge her state of mind. We traveled out of town without our kids for a wedding in August of that year and stayed in a hotel. We had good inspired sex for the first time in months and during foreplay I had asked her what thought gots her the hottest.

Karen told me that she often wished she could climax with me inside her.

“But my body isn’t wired that way,” she lamented. In 30 years she had never climaxed without clitoral stimulation though I made sure to make her cum most times. She had come close to climaxing during intercourse several times but I’d never gotten her over that final hump.

“You could if I was a lot more flexible,” I replied with a grin, implying that I would have to lick her clit at the same time as she loved it and always came when I went down on her. “Or if I could clone myself.”

She laughed and I suspect she imagined one of me licking her clit whilst another fucked her. It was a calculated, albeit impulsive, response to see how she reacted and the sex afterward made me think that she liked the idea of being serviced by two men. She would never admit to wanting such untraditional depravity and that was what separated Karen from Cheryl. In hindsight they likely shared the same desires but Cheryl was comfortable admitting hers while my wife wasn’t, probably due to her catholic upbringing.

When we got back from the wedding I decided to make a few purchases. I had mentioned that we could use a toy to simulate her getting fucked whilst I licked her clit and in my mind there was only one color to get. I bought my wife’s first black cock on a Friday. She was on her period so I couldn’t use it right away and I was nervous about how she would react to the color I’d chose. In addition to the dildo I also bought a high end vibrator to help her cum while I fucked her. That night I showed her my two purchased and to my surprise she did not mention the medium mocha hue of the dildo. She also did not mention the size, which at 7.5 inches was more than an inch longer than my fully erect dick.

When Karen’s period ended I took her out for a date night. Our daughter was away at school and our son was camping with his girlfriend leaving us alone in the house for some adult fun.

We stripped naked and kissed as I caressed her soft, curvy body.

Karen had been a petite girl when we met and at 5’3″ she had weighed just 110lbs on our wedding day. She had, like many women, gained weight over the years but even at 60 or more pounds heavier that when we met I still found her very attractive and sexy. gebze escort She had great legs, a wide ass and beautiful breasts.

I kissed my way down her soft, feminine curves paying close attention to her big d cup tits and taut, erect nipples. My right hand moved between her splayed thighs and she sighed as I parted her labia and let my fingers slip inside her tight hole.

“You’re wet,” I teased as I settled between her legs. The rich fragrance of her succulent juices engulfed me and I reached for the dildo as I lowered my lips to her tiny, hard clit.

The dildo slid easily into her and she breathed deep as she swallowed it whole. I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked my tongue over her hard nub. My hand pumped the dildo hard and fast and her legs began to quiver and quake. I could feel the veiny latex shaft on my tongue and some depraved thoughts began to populate my deviant mind.

“Don’t stop,” she hissed loudly. Her hips bucked and she shuddered and moaned as she came hard. Her juices soaked my face and I smiled up as her with my wet face glimmering.

We fucked twice that night and I used the dildo and my tongue to make her climax two more times before we shut off the lights and went to sleep.

Over the next six months her black dildo became a regular part of our sex life. I named it Jordan and we often joked during foreplay about her black boyfriend joining us.

In March for our anniversary my wife and I took a trip to Key West. We were celebrating 25 years of marriage and more than 32 years together. I introduced her to one of her presents our first night in town. I had purposely left Jordan home because I had purchased a bigger, blacker boyfriend to satisfy wife’s suddenly voracious sexual appetite. Her new toy was over 9 inches long, impressively thick and black as night. I named it Tyrone and Karen loved it. She admitted after the first time with Tyrone that size did in fact matter and she came without clitoral stimulation for the first time in her life that night.

Within the next few months I added another big black dildo to my wife’s stable of latex boyfriends. Samson was 12 inches long with big balls and huge veins. He was a deep but realistic ebony color with a brown tip and he quickly became one of my wife’s favorite toys. She had to be in a particularly randy mood to request him, but he was always beside me on the bed when I was between her legs, and with Samson she rarely needed my tongue to climax when he was inside her. She had stopped hiding her attraction to black men and she sometimes pointed out good looking black men when we were out. We often role played group sex scenarios with her three black boyfriends each fucking her while I kissed her thighs, licked her clit and occasionally tongued her asshole. Despite her admitted interest in black men she was insistent that taking a black lover would never be more than fantasy. She was steadfastly monogamous and that would not change.

Fate intervened a few months later when my wife was sent to New Orleans for a conference. I tagged along for a cheap vacation and we extended our trip over the weekend for a few days alone in the big easy. We had been to New Orleans a couple of times before and we both loved the city’s electric atmosphere. Karen’s conference ended Friday at noon and that night, after a fine cajun dinner we headed to Bourbon Street to blow off some steam and get drunk. Karen was several drinks in when I noticed her making eye contact with a young, fit black man. I had seen her checking men out over the years when she thought I was not looking but her brazen attention to him took me somewhat by surprise. When she was in college and high school she had been something of a flirt but once we got married that had, for the most part, ended.

“Which one is that?” I teased, referring to her stable of black boyfriends, as I kissed her neck and rested my hand on her bare knee. She had worn a short dress to dinner and we had gone straight to Bourbon Street from the restaurant leaving us dressed to the nines.

“He’s probably a Jordan,” Karen giggled, “but if he was a Samson I might not be able to control myself. He’s hot.”

Her words took my breath away and my pulse quickened. I had fantasized about watching her with another man for years but I never thought it would actually happen. Her insistence that she was not “that kind of girl” had been consistent over the years and even though she was far from the vanilla wife she had been just a few years earlier she resisted delving into the swingers life style.

“Well if you want to find out you have a pass,” I whispered as I squeezed her thigh. Her body tensed for a moment and then she shook her head.

“No I’m good,” she said, dashing my hopes for a moment before an idea struck me.

I’d heard about Collette from someone I’d talked to on tumblr. Collette was a swingers club a few blocks from Bourbon Street.

I took my wife’s hand and led her out of the bar.

“Where içerenköy escort are we going?” Karen laughed as we stumbled onto Bourbon Street. She was clearly a little tipsy but not yet drunk.

“You’ll see,” I replied as we headed towards Canal Street.

A few minutes later we were standing outside of Collette. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest and my knees felt rubbery and weak. I had no idea what to expect but I’d been told that it was perfectly acceptable to observe if we weren’t comfortable participating.

“What is this place?” My wife asked. Her voice trembled with trepidation and excitement. We could hear the music slipping through the crack beneath the door.

“It’s a club, let’s check it out,” I replied. I led her inside and I knew in an instant our lives would never be the same.

Inside Collette was like most dance clubs. A DJ spun dance music in the corner and couples danced in front of him. Most were dressed well but some were in varying states of undress without being obscene.

I led Karen to the bar and ordered us each a drink. A gin and tonic for her and a Buffalo Trace bourbon, neat, for me.

The sexual energy in the room was palpable and my wife and I took a seat at a high top table where we could people watch.

“What kind of club is this?” She asked as her big golden brown eyes scanned the room. Her head stopped at the door to the back and her eyes widened when she read the neon sign above the door. It read “playrooms” and she nodded.

“It’s a swingers club,” I laughed. “We don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to check it out and people watch.”

“Uhhh, okay,” Karen replied hesitantly. “How do you know about this place?”

“I read about it on line before we came.”

For the next hour I sat next to my dazed wife and watched people mill about. Most looked like ordinary people and I could see that Karen was slowly letting her guard down as the alcohol continued to lower her inhibitions.

I left her alone at the table and went to get us fresh drinks.

Karen’s mouth was agape and she was openly staring at a shirtless black man when I returned. His body looked like it had been lifted from the pages of a fitness magazine and he had a huge bulge in his black dress pants.

“Who’s that,” I asked jokingly as I placed a fresh gin and tonic in front of my spellbound wife.

“That is Samson,” Karen squeaked softly. She had goosebumps on her arms, her cheeks were flushed and she chewed lightly on her bottom lip. I could see her resistance melting before my eyes and when he smiled at her she began to beam. He stepped towards us and my wife inhaled sharply. Her chest heaved and she breathed deep and steady.

I put my glass to my lips and swallowed hard, feeling the burn of the bourbon as it slid down my gullet. My stomach began to churn and a shiver ran down my spine.

He looked to be my age or older but with the body of a much younger man. His skin was the color of dark chocolate and it glimmered in the pale light inside the club. He smiled at me and a lump formed in my throat as he stopped in front of my sexy wife and looked into her eyes.

“Do you see something you like?” He asked confidently. He had a deep voice and a thick Caribbean accent.

My wife nodded, speechless and awestruck. Her tongue absentmindedly circled her lips and he nodded at her.

“Let’s go in back,” he said without hesitation.

He took my wife’s hand and she climbed down from her bar stool. He was over six feet tall but a few inches shorter than me. He had broad shoulders and a thick neck. His midsection was devoid of excess body fat and his biceps bulged as he guided my wife towards the neon sign in back.

My heart raced and a foreboding pit formed in my stomach. I felt my shoulders tense and beads of sweat rolled from my brow. It felt surreal and I followed them in a daze not knowing what to do or how to act.

His hand rested on the small of my wife’s back and she placed her arm around his waist like they’d known each other for years. I knew what was happening and while I had often dreamed about that moment I was filled with angst.

I stepped into one of the playrooms behind them and watched in dumbfounded amazement as he kissed her deep and wet. Her small, thick body melted against him and their tongues entwined as she eagerly fumbled with his belt.

The lights were low and the walls were painted dark. A brown leather couch was in the center of the approximately 20 by 20 room with a matching chair beside it. A television hung from the wall in front of the couch and an opened futon sat opposite the chair.

His huge cock sprung free as his pants dropped to the floor and Karen gasped. “Oh Samson,” she groaned excitedly. His cock was not a big as Samson but it was very impressive and Karen grabbed his meaty shaft with both hands as she dropped to the floor before him. Her mouth opened and she sucked him hard as a deep, guttural moan rose from her chest.

In 30 years I had never seen my wife suck cock with such gusto. Her cheeks bowed inward and her tongue flicked over the tip as she stroked the shaft. She rubbed him against her lips and breathed deep, drawing his essence into her lungs.

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A Trip In The Bush Ch. 03

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Ass

The next morning I woke before Master, as usual on his days off. I silently crawled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen trying to keep the chains quiet. Since the walls were only plywood thick this wasn’t the easiest place to keep quiet, if you dropped a spoon everyone heard it. I made my way to the kitchen area and prepared the coffee for when he woke. Made myself a cup of tea and headed to the front porch. It was calm on the lake, not a ripple yet; the hummingbirds were already up and at the feeders and you could hear the chipmunks and squirrels scurrying about. This was most certainly a piece of heaven. I sat in the deck chair drinking in the tranquility along with my tea.

I didn’t think I was sitting there for very long, when I realized I could hear him stirring inside the cottage. ‘Oh no,’ I thought, ‘I haven’t even done my meditation yet, starting off the vacation with a bang here girl.’ I jumped to my feet to pour his coffee for him.

Inside the kitchen, I was greeted with a very relaxed, “good morning girl. How did you sleep last night?”

“Good morning Master,” as I continued to pour his coffee. “I slept fantastic, and you?”

“Slept like a log. I really think we should consider moving up here.” He stretched and brought his arms down and around me, hugging me tight. “I need to sleep like that more often,” he said while planting a kiss on the top of my head, as I handed him his coffee and he led me out onto the deck.

“Master, I must confess, I haven’t done any of my rituals, well, I did make your coffee, but I sat here with my tea and found myself lost in the serenity of the morning,” I begged with earnest, while dropping to my knees at his feet, believing it would help my plea. “Please Master, forgive me this time. It was the beauty that distracted me. I will never let it happen again.” Gesturing with my hand towards the lake, “just look at all that, wouldn’t you get lost in time? I will even do double the meditation, right now, to make up for it. Please Master, forgive me.”

I knelt there, eyes lowered, hands on my thighs waiting for his reply. He didn’t make me wait long. “Dee, that’s ok, not to worry this time. I appreciate the kneeling part, I know, just to get on my good side, but I still like it. You are forgiven girl, and I will take you up on your offer to extend your meditation. You will do it now, right here, facing out to the lake. The first fifteen minutes will be on being thankful for having such a place to retreat to, and the appreciation for all this natural beauty. The last fifteen minutes will be about your submission to me, and your anticipation of this week.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I stretched up and kissed him before turning towards the lake.

Kissing me back, he reached in to pinch my right nipple, not very rough, just enough to send a signal from my nipple to my pussy. The message was received, as I felt that familiar twinge between my legs.

Turning myself towards the lake, I moved up somewhat, to put myself in the middle of the deck. I knelt up on my knees making sure that they were twelve inches apart. Then I placed one hand over the other in the small of my back with my shoulders pulled back forcing my chest out. I kept my head up, but lowered my eyes. I took a deep breath as I began my meditation. It was a peaceful ritual that I enjoyed, there were those mornings when my back was sore that it wasn’t quite as enjoyable, but in general it helped me put a good start to my day.

The time flew by this morning, as Master informed me of the end of the fifteen minutes and time to concentrate on my submission. I must have gotten lost in the sounds of nature, tranquility a distraction from time. I thought about how I enjoyed being Master’s slave, taking care of him, and tending to his needs. I loved to spoil him and make him feel appreciated. I also reminded myself, how it was my choice to be a slave, that I have never been forced or threatened to do the things I do for him. I do them, because of my love and devotion for him. I also cherish the things that he does for and to me, the time and energy that he puts into training me to be the best slave I can be.

I also thought about my expectations for the week. I knew there were some of my limits that he has wanted to push. There is the whole exhibitionism. I am a shy person, and feel very self conscious when having to walk around naked. I’m ok when at home, and the blinds are closed. But for me to be walking around here, without a stitch on, where someone may see, it does make me uncomfortable. Master says that it demonstrates his control over me, when he is dressed and I am not. I guess making me more vulnerable. Now that I think about it, it is a bit of a rush, the feeling of helplessness and being exposed.

Also, I have a feeling that Master will be pushing the humiliation more. I do not look forward to that at all. I have a very difficult time with being humiliated. Master also mentioned that he had some new toys to try out. I çekmeköy escort sure hope he’s not talking about the clover clamps. I had tried them once, for a split second on a finger. Not charming in the least.

“Dee, times up, although you seem to be deep in thought. Perhaps it would benefit to get to your journal right away, put those thoughts to paper before they escape you.”

“Master, I know no secrets between us, but some of my thoughts, well,” I looked up and realized, nope, no use, he’ll find them out anyways. “Good idea Master, you’re always full of them.”

Master spent the morning checking the boats, the gas, and the wood supply and disappeared into the bush for a bit. I tidied inside the cottage, dusting, vacuuming and getting lunch prepared. Nothing fancy, just sandwiches and veggies.

After lunch as I cleaned up the dishes, Master went into the cottage and came back out with a blue bag, one I had not seen before. That must be one of the new toys. My heart raced a bit as I thought about what could be in it. He sat in the deck chair and I knelt before him. I lowered my eyes, placed my hands on my thighs. My knees were parted and my back was straight. I waited for his words before I moved.

“Girl, it’s been awhile since we’ve just played, nice and simple. Simple little torments, something so simple but it makes you squirm so, I love it.” He reached over and pulled the drawstring on the blue bag to reveal hundreds of wooden clothes pins. “Perhaps we can get a neat little sun design on your body when we are all done. What do you think?”

“Yes Master, an interesting tan line.” I liked pins, truly I did, although that many? Where was he going to put them all?

“Climb up onto the table here”

The picnic table that was on the deck was a huge round table that could easily fit 12 people sitting around it. I climbed on top of it and lay on my back. He removed the chains from my cuffs, only to replace them with rope and tied me down, spread eagle to the table. The ropes were not overly tight, but there wasn’t much play in them either. Next he took another rope and tied me down to the table around my waist, wrapping the rope around three times. He did the same around my arms, just under my armpits. My mind started to wander as to why he was securing me so well. Next came the blindfold, which was a welcome relief from the sun.

He brushed his fingers lightly over my skin, tracing the outline of my arms, shoulders and neck. He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips then moving to my right ear where he nibbled and sucked on my lobe. I purred like a kitten, I loved it so, and then his lips continued their descent down my neck to my right nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, sucking harder, and biting it. His left hand moved to my left breast, circling it, teasing strokes of his fingers. I squirmed against the ropes, only making them tighter. I had to try and keep myself still. He bit hard on my nipple and then replaced it with a clothes pin. It was a familiar pang but one that I enjoyed for a time. I have a feeling they would be on a bit longer than just the enjoyment level of pain. He stepped back and flicked on the pin, making it dance back and forth. No warning, no prep, the second pin was placed on the left nipple and he made that one dance as well.

His hand continued to graze and tease my skin, over my belly, he traced circles around my belly button. Leaning over me, he flickered his tongue on my belly button, creating the desired effects deep inside me. I could feel the moisture building in my pussy, my breathing increased slightly.

A hand on either hip brushed lightly down the outside of each leg, down to my feet. In anticipation, I so hated having my feet touched, I began to squirm and wiggle my feet as much as I could. A whimper escaped my lips. “Please Master, not my feet,” I pleaded. To no avail, he traced each one of my feet as well. My senses were in overload, just having my feet touched, he didn’t even have to tickle and I was whimpering like a baby.

The journey continued up the inside of my leg, where he took more time, circling the knees and reaching behind them to that erogenous zone. The torment building higher as I felt for sure the final destination would be some relief with his cunt. Lightly, he grazed my inner thighs and then his fingers drummed on my mound, quickly and then slowly, tormenting me deliciously. I whimpered softly. Slowly, very slowly, he began to finger me, sliding his finger between my wet lips, separating them and then rubbing gently on my clit. Pushing two fingers deep inside me, his mouth closed down on my clit, sucking it into his mouth. He was toying with me with his tongue, driving me wild.

Stopping a moment, “don’t you dare cum girl.” His tone was firm; he was quite serious about that, there was no use trying to be adorable about it. He would push me close to the edge as well; he could read my body, probably more so than I could. A few times I had slipped cevizli escort and the punishment was severe when I did, something I didn’t want to repeat. I was quivering like a bowl of jello, the waves were washing over me faster than I could handle. He stopped, but my body kept raging.

He stood back, “girl, don’t you dare, I’ll get my belt out, and you know I will.” His voice commanded my attention, bringing me back under control. “Good girl, I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

And so, the pins began. He removed the two from my nipples and began strategically placing them in a circular spiral around my left breast. He worked is way in closer and closer to the nipple, leaving it exposed. He repeated the same with the right breast. Next, he made a trail, leading from between my breasts down my stomach to just above my clit. He repeated similar lines down, from below each breast, at a slight angle outward. He created three lines coming from each breast.

He turned his attention to my legs, pinning on the inner thigh, from above the knee upward to my bikini line. The higher he went on the leg, the more intense the bite. Making another line on top of each thigh, and then along the outside of the leg. The first pins that were place, were beginning to bite harder, increasing the intensity. I had a feeling this was going to be a long session, and an intense one at that.

“My girl, you are looking so magnificent, but only 138 pins so far. You can take more, can’t you?”

“Sure Master, why not, anything you desire.” My tone was a bit on the impish side, but I was trying to keep somewhat of a sense of humour. It was hurting like hell after all. He pulled the blindfold off and looked down into my eyes.

“Do I detect a bit of attitude there girlie? Stick that tongue out.”

My eyes flashed wide. “But, but, Master, I was, but…..”

“Open.”

Sticking my tongue out, making it as fat as I could. Knowing full well, it wouldn’t help, but I just couldn’t help myself. “Girl!” He pinched at my lower lip and snapped the pin on the tip of my tongue. “For the trouble,” placing two more, “two more for my brat. And if you push them off, I’ll just have to add some to your lips.”

He turned his attention to my arms, pinning from the elbow, down to the arm pit. It could be that I was already in enough torment, but those were just wicked, no flesh to grab onto at all. He repeated the same to the other arm. Starting to fight against my bindings, it was growing more severe, when he took a step back and was looking over his work of art.

Crying out, moaning, and squirming against the ropes. “Oh no, that’s only 172. I still have another 128 pins, where oh where shall I put them.” My eyes flashed again, I rocked my head back and forth and babbled incoherently. He was getting a kick out of this. He was laughing to himself, as I lay there in torment. Oh, who was I kidding, I was enjoying it too, on some twisted level.

The sun was beating down, the sweat was pouring off my body. Not sure what was causing the most heat, the sun or all those pins. He went inside, coming back with a tall glass of ice tea, sipping it teasingly in front of me. Whimpering a bit louder, more pathetically, I lowered my eyes submissively and as coherently as I could with the pins in place. “lease aster, wader lease?” He laughed, and fished an ice cube out of his glass and let it drip into my mouth, rubbing it on my tongue. The coolness was refreshing, even that little bit. He removed the pins from my tongue and put the remainder of the ice cube in my mouth to suck on.

He had taken another cube tracing a line in and around the pins. It felt good, it felt wicked. The extreme hot to the extreme cold, it sent shivers through my body, it distracted from the ache of the pins. He made his way down, lower and lower. I knew his destination, “please, no Master, not there.”

Not a word, he just kept sliding the ice cube down. The cube trailed down on the outside of my lips, first the right side, then the left. My head rocking from side to side, biting my lower lip I moaned quietly from the endless torture. Next he moved on the inside of my lips, circling my cunt, teasing and tormenting with that little block of ice. In an instant, I found the cold little weapon pushed up inside me, I could only imagine myself being able to escape these ropes. I shrieked out, and my echo was heard down the lake. I couldn’t help but giggle afterwards, what would the fellow campers be thinking. He was fishing another one out of his glass and was now persecuting my poor little feet. My feet had always been a limit, not hard, but I’m just not a feet person, and mine are particularly ticklish. This was a limit being pushed. I no longer felt the pins that tortured my body. My full concentration was on what he was going to do with that cube and my feet.

There was nothing tricky or amazing, just simple torture with the cube sliding between each toe and then on the bottom of my feet. I howled erenköy escort and begged for him to stop. He laughed and continued from one foot to the other. In desperation I reminded him of all those pins that were left over.

“Oh yes, that’s right my girl. I was a little side tracked here. Taking one more cube and pushing it up inside my cunt, and then placing another on top of each nipple he then picked up the bag of pins and returned to my pussy.

Alternating from lip to lip he placed one pin after another, five to each lip. The lower down he went on the lip, the more painful it became. My breathing accelerated as I tried hard to keep myself together and do some deep breathing. At that moment I had a few choice places for the remainder of those pins, and they would not be connected to my body.

“Well, girl, you either need to get to be a little bigger, or I have to settle with not as many pins. I don’t foresee you growing in the next five minutes, so, here are the last three.” Spreading my pussy lips apart to expose that oh so sensitive clit. “One for my clit,” he then moved to my breast. “Let me see here, oh yes and one pin for each of my nipples.”

These last three sent me over the edge. There were no more jokes to be uttered. There wasn’t a sassy bone in my body. I lay there quite still, breathing heavy, eyes closed against the sun and feeling my cunt drip more and more. It always betrayed me, showing Master that there was some pleasure to be had in all this torment. The tears started to escape out of the corner of my eyes and my muscles were quivering from the exciting blend of pleasure and pain.

“Five minutes more girl, that’s all I expect from you. Five minutes. You can do that for me can’t you? You are my sweet baby girl and can take five minutes right?” He was stroking my hair and kissing my forehead as he spoke to me in a soothing manner. When he stroked my hair and talked in that tone, I could walk across hot coal for him. It was almost hypnotic. He would bring me right back from the pain to why I loved him so much and why I was his slave.

With the tears still rolling down, I nodded, “yes Master, yes Master I can do that for you.”

Before I was able to finish my sentence, the vibrator was slid into its home between my legs and put on low. Master moved out of my range of vision and the blindfold was put back in place. Closed behind a veil of breathtaking torment I lay there, cooking in the sun for what seemed much longer than only five minutes. I trusted him completely, I knew it had only been five, but it seemed so much longer when the sensations varied from pain to pleasure. The bite of the pins was excruciating but then the diversion from the vibrator would send waves of intoxicating pleasure through me.

Master returned, as promised at the end of the five minutes. Turning the vibrator to a higher setting, he placed a second one over my clit. All I could think of was, ‘wait a minute, no, no, it’s suppose to be ending, no more torment, I won’t be able to bare it, please no more.’ Of course I did endure more; I always did and always will.

“Girl, I want you to wait for the word, you will cum this time. Understood?” His voice was low, a whisper in my ear.

“Yes Master, thank you Master.” My voice was hoarse and shaky.

As I responded, in one fluid motion the pins came ripping off my right arm. The surprise of it made me shriek and at this point, I didn’t care who heard me on the lake. Just as quickly the one on the second arm came tearing off. My head rocked from side to side as I cried from the pain until he turned the vibrator over my clit a notch higher and my vocal cries turned to low moans of pleasure yet again. My hips pushed up toward the vibrator, afraid he was pulling it away from me only to have another zipper pulled from my right leg and the second leg followed swiftly behind. Again it was followed with more intensity from the vibrator.

He continued in this fashion, ripping another zipper from my body and drowning out my screams with the vibrator. The tension was building up inside me. I wasn’t sure where agony ended and where the pleasure began. The two feelings were blended into one delicious ride. He only had the pins that were on my pussy left. He played with them first, making them dance for him as I myself danced on that table. Until I could take no more, and the orgasm washed over me, there was no more pain, only the beautiful release of pleasure as I convulsed on that table. As I released myself to the each spasm he removed the last pins. After removing the one on the clit, his mouth clamped down, sucking it into his mouth.

A second orgasm swept through me, even more intense than the first. I pushed against his mouth and let it take me over once again. I had never felt anything so powerful before, on one hand it was a bit frightening and yet on the other it was exhilarating. I felt so alive and so free.

I could hear the birds twittering in the distance and the sound of a boat motor. I jumped, unaware of where I was. I realized that I was laying on top of Master in the recliner, out of the sun with a light sheet covering me. Master was stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head. I turned my head up to look in his eyes.

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Folie a Deux, Episode 02

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Anal

Reaction to the first chapter in this ongoing story was polarized. Some loved it and others didn’t – and the ones who didn’t really didn’t! Most of the objections concerned the format of the story, since some folks didn’t like the documentary transcript style (or even the first person narration). I assumed this would be the case, since it’s dramatically different from anything else I’ve read – and that’s one of the reasons I wanted to write it this way! I’d started this story a dozen different ways before I thought of this, and this seemed to me to be the ideal vehicle for blending the accounts of several unreliable narrators with some objective evidence of their relative truthfulness (based on their reactions to the unseen interviewers). This was an experiment for me to see if this format worked for a story; I write for an audience of one, but since I liked the results I decided to share it. That means that this and all future chapters in this story will be in the same format. Other stories I might write in the future may or may not be, but that depends wholly on what works best for the story in question. Also, if this tickles your fancy and you’d like to try a story of your own with this sort of format, I strongly encourage it, since it’s at once liberating and confining in such a manner as to stimulate creativity.

*****

Folie à Deux

Episode 2: Homecoming

By Senor Smut

The screen is black as we hear a man speak. The voice is young, strong, vibrant, and deep, with a solid Midwestern accent. “I’ve never been as uncomfortable as I was with mom over the next few days. How could we discuss what we did? How could we not discuss what we did?”

We now see a closeup of a young man against a black background. He is white, in his early 20s at the most, and very handsome. His face is composed all of bold lines, from his high cheekbones to his striking jawline and his cleft, pointed chin. His mouth is a thin line that shows a certain determination and strength of character, while his icy blue eyes hint at depth and reserves of intelligence and thoughtfulness. His hair is short, straight, and dark.

Below, we see the legend Mike Larsen.

“There was a massive thing between us now, and neither of us could figure out a way to get our arms around it,” he continues. “I knew that if we didn’t figure it out, I mean just how to live with it, it was going to tear our family apart. And I didn’t have the first idea how to begin.”

Mike disappears, replaced by a black screen with the words:

Folie à Deux

Episode 2: Homecoming

The title is replaced by another familiar face: a woman in her early 40s who bears a striking family resemblance to Mike, but for her generous lips, her dark eyes, and especially her wild mane of untameable blonde locks. She’s wearing a red shirt with a narrow collar, hinting that this is a different day from the first interview.

Her name is given as Emily Larsen.

“The next several days were more awkward for me than actually doing what the Visigoths had forced us to do,” she relates. “When we were there and being forced to have sex in front of the gang, we didn’t focus on anything but the moment. We simply couldn’t afford to. We had to do what we were told under threat of death, and when one is in that sort of a situation one doesn’t have the luxury of looking ahead. We were forced to focus on the moment.”

Mike reappears, looking pensive. “In the moment, there was nothing but the moment. I mean, the furthest ahead I could think was to the period immediately after we got done having sex, where I didn’t want my mom to be thinking ‘Damn, that was bad sex in addition to being sex with my son.’ That was, like, as far ahead as my mind could even conceive of. And once we got done, it was like…my mind still couldn’t conceive of anything after that sex. It was like we were both stuck there.”

“Looking back on it, it was very clearly a mistake not to address it right away,” Emily says. “I think, had we talked during that short period after we’d finished having sex but before the bikers drove us into town, we’d have been able to find words much more easily. We were both traumatized, however, and rather…lost in our own thoughts. It was difficult to find words that didn’t feel trite or tremendously inappropriate. And of course, the longer we let the silence go, the more difficult it was to breach it.”

Mike is rubbing his chin and looking to the side. “I remember…uh…I remember sitting on the airplane, sitting right next to mom, and absolutely not knowing the first word to say. Like not even how to start the first sentence. I kept opening my mouth and – well, no, I kept thinking about opening my mouth and then not doing it because whenever I thought about talking to her, I could feel my throat squeeze closed. Seriously.”

“Whenever I thought I knew how to start a conversation,” bağdatcaddesi escort Emily says, “I would remember what we did. It wasn’t simply that we’d done it. We’d loved it. I’d begged him in the most obscene terms possible. It seemed humiliating simply to start a conversation.”

“So yeah, whole flight, not a word,” Mike sighs. “We land, I called dad to tell him we’d arrived safe and everything. Said we’d meet him at the hotel. Then mom and I waited for our bags. Just…stood there. Not talking. Not even looking at each other, because every time I looked at her all I could see was her down on her knees, naked with my cock in her mouth. So we just…stared.”

“The taxi ride to the hotel was silent,” Emily says. “For a time I was lost in a sort of…a fugue, I suppose, reliving the event to the extent that I was even smelling what I’d smelled the day before, the urine smell of the drug lab and the roasting pork.”

“How were those recollections making you feel?” asks an offscreen voice. This interviewer is male with a slight English accent and he sounds older than the woman who interviewed the pair in the first episode.

“That was a very interesting thing, because they were making me feel very nearly the opposite of what I felt at the time,” Emily says. “As it was going on, I was caught up in a spiral of lust that quickly got out of control. My son is an exceptional lover and we both managed to lose ourselves in the moment. However, as I relived it, all I could feel was shame and self-loathing.”

“Did you feel loathing toward Mike?” the interviewer asks.

“No, of course not,” she says, though a quaver in her voice indicates that the answer may be more complex than that.

“How did I feel toward mom then,” Mike muses, then exhales heavily. “I felt…I felt like she was…I don’t know. I did feel bad for her, because in the house I grew up in there’s no hiding loud noises and I’d never, ever heard her make sounds like I made her make. So, like, she wasn’t getting that from dad at all. But then I started wondering if that made me a better lover than my dad, and when you start wondering whether your mom thinks you’re a better lay than your dad is, you’ve gone down a real weird fucking road. So basically whenever I started to think about her, I’d force myself to think of something else, but I couldn’t think of anything else for more than about thirty seconds before I’d start thinking about her again.”

“Did you want to have sex with her again?” the interviewer asks.

“Not then!” Mike laughs. “I wasn’t even sure I could ever look at her again. Fucking her was the last thing I had on my mind.”

“I didn’t want to have sex with Mike again,” Emily says, “but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It had been extraordinary – revelatory, as I said last time. I found I was relieving specific moments over and over again. They were just instants, really, sensations or impressions.”

“Such as?” the interviewer asks.

“Well…just little things,” Emily says uncomfortably, her awkwardness when discussing sex in full play. “Things he did or things I felt. Things that were different from what I was used to. Certain comparisons were inevitable, and I felt incredibly guilty making them but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Why not?”

Emily looks truly uncomfortable, and she shrugs.

“When we got to the hotel,” Mike says, “I think it was the first time either of us realized that we were about five minutes from seeing dad and Olivia. I…I freaked, I’ll be honest. I had a straight-up panic attack.”

Emily still looks shaken. “When we pulled to a stop and I looked up and saw the rather severe white facade of the Hotel Whitcomb and realized that my husband and daughter were waiting for us inside, I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. And then I…”

“And then you what?” the interviewer asks.

“Mom opened the cab door and puked on the sidewalk,” Mike chuckles, “so at least I handled it better than she did! Not like I handled it well or anything. I sort of hyperventilated.”

“In the time since we’d…in the time since it had happened, I had thought almost continuously about how I would ever face Mike again,” Emily says. “I had thought very little about how I would face Bob or Olivia. Somehow, seeing them again always felt distant, even when we were on the way to the hotel. And now I was faced with seeing them in moments and I didn’t have any idea what to say or do.”

“I didn’t even really know what mom had told dad,” Mike says. “I knew she’d told him we had an accident but I didn’t know if she’d told him anything else, or what. I mean, we hadn’t discussed it, right? But it was going to be obvious that something had happened between us, something really big and really traumatic, and I didn’t know what the hell to tell dad or Olivia.”

“The doorman helped me out of the taxi,” Emily says. “I’m afraid I didn’t stop to say anything beykoz escort to Mike. I know I should have, but suddenly all I could think about was the foul taste in my mouth. I went inside and immediately went to the restroom to try to clean up.”

“I paid the taxi and made sure the porters got everything inside,” Mike says. “But I was still, like, panicking. My heart was just hammering and my mind was racing. I couldn’t think of anything to say or do. I knew mom went to the bathroom and I absolutely no way wanted to be the first one up to the rooms. But then it was weird to wait for her because I didn’t even want to look at her, much less talk to her. So I paid the porter a twenty to take the bags up to the rooms and I went for a walk.”

“You sent the bags up but you didn’t go up yourself?” the interviewer clarifies, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah, I went out,” Mike nods. “Walking. Walking around. Just…walking.”

“For how long?”

Mike shifts a bit and looks embarrassed as he says, “Um…four hours. Closer to five.”

“When I got out of the restroom about…half an hour later, I didn’t see Mike or the bags,” Emily says. “I naturally assumed he’d gone up first with the luggage and had already seen his father and sister. That was when my telephone rang. Bob was wondering where we were – he said the bags had been brought up twenty minutes before but neither of us were there, and he was worried.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Emily shrugs. “I didn’t know where Mike had gone. I thought he might have run off – run away, I mean – so as not to face me. To face the family. I’m afraid I got rid of Bob very brusquely and called Mike.”

“I actually had my phone turned off,” Mike said. “On the way in the taxi the buzzing from texts and Facebook and shit was driving me nuts, so I turned it off. I didn’t even think about how it would all play, with the luggage showing up and then mom showing up sometime after and me not showing up at all. I really wasn’t thinking at all.”

“When he didn’t answer his phone, I…” Emily paused, thinks for a moment, and then laughs. “I lost my mind. I began…making a fuss.”

We now see a closeup of a man who appears to be in his early-to-mid 40s. He is handsome with icy blue eyes that resemble Mike’s. His hair is dark brown except for several strands of gray at the temples; this, coupled with the care lines around his eyes, give him an air of weary wisdom. He looks familiar to those who saw Episode 1, and his identity is confirmed when he is given the name Bob Larsen in a subtitle below his face.

“I’d been worried the night before, when I heard about the accident,” Bob says in a deep, steady voice. “Emily called me and she sounded very shaken up, very upset. At the time I thought it was due to the wreck of the minivan she loved so much – she really did have a love affair with that vehicle. She told me the accident wasn’t bad, but I assumed she was minimizing it to keep me from worrying, which is a habit she’s always had. Anyway, I was looking forward to seeing her in the morning.

“I knew something really odd was going on when the suitcases showed up without either her or Mike,” Bob continues. “It was Emily and me in one room and Mike and Olivia in another, and Olivia thought it was pretty odd too, so after we waited a few more minutes I called Emily. When she freaked out and basically hung up on me, I knew something more had happened than just a car accident – of course, I had no idea what. Then about five minutes later, hotel staff called and told me my wife was making a scene in the lobby.”

“I recall…talking loudly,” Emily says judiciously. “I demanded that the staff notify the police that my son was missing, and when they explained that he had apparently left of his own volition, I demanded that they send someone to look for him. I freely admit that I may not have been entirely rational at that moment.”

“When the elevator doors opened in the lobby,” Bob says, “the first thing I heard was Emily screaming. Now, Emily isn’t a screamer, so hearing that, I knew that there was something going on that I didn’t know about. I tried to get her calmed down, but she was…irrational.”

“It was all coming out,” Emily says. “The emotion, I mean, not the facts. I had been keeping all of the anxiety and fear and pain and confusion bottled up very tightly inside. I hadn’t even allowed myself to speak to the only person who understood the situation – Mike – and now I was confronted by hotel staff who had absolutely no idea what I was going through and all of those emotions…exploded out of me.”

“What were you thinking?” the interviewer asks.

“I don’t believe I was thinking,” she shrugs.

“Not at all?”

“I wanted my son there,” she replies. “I wanted to know where he was at the very least. I imagine it was the motherly instinct of protection acting in a…maladaptive manner.”

“Explain?” caddebostan escort the interviewer probes.

“I had failed to protect my son the day before. We’d both been put into the worst sort of danger and then he had been forced to…fornicate with me. I blamed myself for those failings and for putting him into that situation. I hadn’t permitted myself to approach those feelings, really, and now my son had wandered off into a strange city to do who knew what.”

“He was 18 years old,” the interviewer says, “not a child.”

Emily frowns, just a bit, and says, “He’s my child. No matter what else happens, to a mother part of her child is always the infant that she bore, always needing protection. I had failed to protect him and now I couldn’t protect him because he wasn’t there. I panicked.”

“And what did you do when you saw your husband?” the interviewer asks.

Distress washes across Emily’s features. “It…wasn’t good.”

“I heard Emily screaming before the elevator doors opened,” Bob recalls with a frown. “I’d never heard her like that. When I got there she was surrounded by five or six staff – the concierge, a desk clerk, bellboys, a janitor even – and she looked like she’d lost her mind.”

“What was she doing?” the interviewer asks.

“Yelling very loudly and rather incoherently that someone needed to find Mike immediately,” Bob says, “while crying and waving her arms around wildly. With her hair the way it is – very uncontrollable – she can sometimes look a little unhinged even when she’s absolutely calm, but with her so frantic and her hair just flying off in all directions, she looked like a complete maniac.”

“What did you do?”

“I went up and tried to get her to settle down,” Bob said. “I mean, she was almost raving. I put my hands on her shoulders and I was as surprised as anyone when she stopped yelling, sort of collapsed against me, and started crying and apologizing.”

“I didn’t notice Bob was there until he put his hands on my shoulders,” Emily says, “and instantly the panic and fear all left me, simply because the guilt it made me feel left no room for anything else.”

“Why did you feel so much guilt when your husband did that?” asks the interviewer.

“Because I’d failed Mike so badly. Because I’d wrecked the minivan that we really couldn’t afford to replace. Because of the things Mike and I had been forced to do. Because the Visigoths had forced me to strip naked in front of them.” Emily sighs heavily. “The main reason, though, was because I had loved the sex with my son so very much more than I ever had with my husband. When Bob put his hands on my shoulders, I had a moment of perfect, crystalline clarity in which I knew that every sexual encounter I ever had with him from then on would be bitterly disappointing. There was simply no doubt of it in my mind. My sex life with my husband, such as it was, had been completely destroyed by our own son.”

“What do you mean, ‘such as it was?'” the interviewer asks.

Emily opens her mouth to speak and then closes it again, and the camera slowly zooms in on her face during the long, and then painfully long moment she takes to compose herself and her answer. She shows a range of emotions – regret, sadness, contemplativeness, and finally a severe curtain of wariness and caution, and when she speaks her tone is measured, careful, and composed. “After the first several months together, Bob and I hadn’t ever been particularly sexually active. We seldom made love anymore.”

“Why not? Is he a bad lover?” the interviewer asks.

“No, of course not,” Emily says instantly and with what comes off as well-prepared certainty. “I should rather say that, as the demands of our careers and child-raising and simply living life took their tolls, sex was one of the things that got sacrificed.”

Back to Bob. “I knew of Emily by sight and reputation before I met her. We were sophomores at the University of Minnesota and we had some overlapping friends so we’d see each other at parties. I thought she was gorgeous, to the point where I was intimidated about talking to her.”

“What was her reputation?” the interviewer asks.

“Word was she was a…a wild girl,” Bob laughs. “She liked to do crazy things, like she was an adrenaline junkie. There was one time people told me about where she got up on the roof of this eight- or ten-story building at night that had this steel girder sticking out of the side. She went out and danced on it.”

“I…did that, yes,” Emily admits with what her smile makes clear is feigned reluctance. “Several friends of mine from dance and I had gotten up onto the roof of a building with a beautiful view of the Mississippi River and downtown Minneapolis. There may have been a small amount of marijuana involved.”

“It must have been quite the adrenaline rush,” the interviewer says. “Is that something you like?”

“I certainly did,” she says. “I did any number of things that I’d be mortified and furious to discover my children doing now. But age and responsibility has a way of calming one down.”

“Your reputation for wildness,” the interviewer says. “Was it only for daredevil stunts, or did you have a sexual reputation as well?”

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Angel Ch. 10

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Big Dick

10: Two New Men in Her Life

The sex on Friday night and Saturday with Bob Marley Cliff was the best Angel had experienced up until that date, but it was only one of many fabulous carnal adventures in her life. Because of her beauty, her sexual prowess and her reputation as a woman who was free and open with her charms, she had no trouble finding partners among the men at the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Association. In between her couplings with members from there, she sometimes spent a few extremely happy nights and mornings in bed with her neighbor, Harold Carpenter.

Among members of the GLBTA, Kenny was her most frequent partner, especially on Friday nights. In particular, she liked to go to his home after meetings on Fridays, because he always ate her pussy, and she could spend the night and Saturday morning frolicking in his queen-sized bed, followed by going out with him to a leisurely brunch at a pleasant restaurant near her flat. If Kenny didn’t happen to be there, frequently another man and she would mutually catch each other’s fancies, and they would leave for either her flat or whatever place, within reason that he wanted to go.

On the Friday night after her incredible sex with Bob, Kenny wasn’t there, and Angel looked around at the men who were. After some very bad experiences with young men, she had certain preferences, and any man she chose to leave with had to meet at least some of them. A new man, quite handsome, was there that night, and he introduced himself as Augustus, to be greeted in the customary way by the other members of the group. He was a burly man, which Angel liked, and he looked to be at least in his late thirties. That was good too, because she preferred men who were much older than she, often even older than her own father.

As Augustus spoke, he informed everybody that he was straight, and that he was there in support of Luanne, his younger sister, who had been born his brother. He told how the young T-girl had been ostracized and reviled since beginning the process of gender change, and even suffered physical violence a few times. Angel could empathize with the sister, recalling the difficulties she had faced in the provincial city when she first started wearing girls’ uniforms at the school she attended, and all during her process of feminization. She had never been actually assaulted, but she had narrowly escaped violence when she first arrived in London. Those frightening episodes had turned her against men her own age, even those at the GLBTA, whom she knew she had no particular reason to fear.

Besides size and age, being straight or bisexual was another requirement of Angel’s because the gay men she had met would have wanted to treat her sexually as a man, including treating her clit as a cock. This was something she took pains to avoid, including with the bisexual men, such as Kenny. She was a WOMAN, and insisted in being treated as one in every way possible.

At the conclusion of the meeting, Augustus sought out Angel, thinking she might have some good advice for his sister. Besides being T-girls, both women were young and very attractive, and he believed that, having those qualities in common, Angel might have experiences she would be willing to share. He was absolutely right in that belief. Besides being attracted to the older brother, Angel had quite a few suggestions for his much younger sister, including many that she had learned from her own therapist and some that had come from her experiences. If Augustus had not sought her out, she would have approached him and, even if there had been no sexual attraction, she would have wanted to pass on advice for Luanne.

“Hi, Angel,” he greeted her.

“Hi, Augustus.”

“Why don’t you call me Gus? It’s shorter and easier. Anyhow, I was hoping you might have some advice for my sister.”

“Okay, Gus it is, and, yes, I do have quite a bit of advice for her. But why don’t we go sit in those chairs over there?” she asked, pointing to some wooden chairs against the wall.

“Okay.”

Once they were seated, Angel began giving Gus a summary of what she had gone through on her arrival in London. She emphasized that Luanne, whenever a man expressed or showed interest in her, would have to immediately let him know her status as a T-girl. Even as she spoke, she shivered, remembering her own experiences with Brian and Mike when she first arrived in the city. The harsh words of the two young men had been bad enough but, if she hadn’t been honest with them right away, those words would almost certainly have been accompanied by severe beatings. The fear of what might have happened was still very real, and even Gus could tell how serious Angel was about her dread of any repetition of those two frightening episodes, for her or any other T-girl.

The conversation continued for quite a while, and got more personal, as Angel talked about the sex acts that Luanne would probably be doing. She even referred to her clit and pussy which, physiologically speaking, acıbadem escort were her penis and anus. Gus had gone to the meeting looking for advice he could pass along to his sister, and any insights as to what she would be going through. Sex had not been on his mind, but few straight men could be around Angel, especially when involved in such an intimate conversation, without thinking about it. This was doubly so as she leaned forward and rested her hand on his thigh. Besides the presence of the warm palm, he couldn’t help noticing how her delightful breasts strained against the green knit dress she was wearing, as well as all the other aspects of her youthful beauty.

Angel was getting just as turned on as he was. The sexual details of her advice were a reminder, if she needed any, that she hadn’t had a cock in her mouth or pussy since the previous Saturday morning, and that the man beside her could provide what she had been missing during that time. Besides providing advice for Luann, she learned that Gus was divorced and shared a flat with his sister. As Angel smiled at him and her hand tightened slightly on his leg, they were both having the same thoughts about a delightful way the evening might end.

For all the other members of the GLBTA, it had already ended. They had been so wrapped up in their discussion that Angel and Gus hadn’t noticed that they were the last people remaining in the meeting room. Everybody else who had sat around the table, after hearing what Gus had to say, and seeing him and a T-girl in serious conversation, would never have considered interrupting their discussion. Instead, as was the usual custom, the other members had tidied up the room, and the last two persons would be able to get up and leave any time they felt like it, turning off the lights and pulling the door closed and locked behind themselves. They looked around and decided that time had arrived.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Do you need a ride home?”

His thigh was getting warmer under her hand, and he could feel his cock stiffening. Gus looked again at the T-girl’s lovely breasts and wondered if they were real. He was aware that his sister wore padded bras, but they didn’t make her bosom appear to be nearly as big and shapely as Angel’s. The thought occurred to him that it would be wonderful to find out, and perhaps learn, from first-hand, a bit more about the sex lives of T-girls. Just so he would have a better and more complete understanding of his sister’s life, of course, he told himself, grinning inwardly over what he knew was a bit of harmless self-deception.

“I could use one.” The questing hand briefly moved closer to where she could see Gus’s cock starting to put a bulge along his pants leg. It was a good-sized one, just the kind she liked in her mouth or pussy.

As they left, Angel turned off the lights and set the lock so it caught when she closed the door after herself and Gus. The parking lot was empty except for his car and, as they walked in its direction, they were rather more close together than they really had to be. He opened the door for Angel and she got in and reached over to unlock the driver’s door. As Gus sat behind the steering wheel, she remained as close to him as she could safely get, and her hand once again found the thigh that had been so fascinating before, except that this time, he knew for certain she was fondling him there.

The thought of sex had been creeping into his mind but, from the actions of Angel, it galloped the rest of the way in. Except for driving safely, it was the only thing he could think of as the beautiful T-girl whispered directions into his ear. Angel knew there was no need to whisper, but she was getting sexually excited by the presence of the large handsome man whose stiff cock she was starting to caress with her fingertips.

He stopped in front of the block of flats, and Angel whispered to him again, this time a very welcome invitation. “Why don’t you park in one of the visitors’ spaces and come up to my flat? We can talk about your sister, or whatever else comes up.” As she said the last words, her hand moved to lightly squeeze his cock, which was something that was definitely coming up.

To Gus, that sounded like the most wonderful idea in the world, and he got out and opened and held Angel’s door. Smiling, she thanked him and let her hand glide over the front of his pants, more and more liking the feel of the prodigious bulge there. Angel was not truly a size queen, but she did prefer long, thick cocks in her pussy, and what was covered by Gus’s pants had felt much more than adequate to her. Holding hands, they walked to the front of the building and, this time, she unlocked and opened the door for him.

Eager to get to the privacy of Angel’s flat, they hurried across the lobby to the lift, where they waited impatiently, although it was less than half a minute. Inside the lift car, Angel refrained from putting her hands where she actually wanted atalar escort them, because she didn’t care to put on a show for anybody in the building’s security who might happen to see the videotape of the inside of the car. She was well aware that any such person, seeing her and Gus, would know where they were going and what they would be doing, but she didn’t want to advertise it.

Once they were inside the kitchen of her small flat with the door locked, Angel slipped out of her pumps and suggested that Gus do the same with his shoes while she was hanging up their jackets on the hooks on the back of the door. He took her suggestion, going even further and peeling off his socks, and sat on one of the two chairs beside Angel’s small table. She moved the other chair next to him and sat down, her hand quickly finding his thigh and creeping upward to his crotch, where she could again see the long bulge down one leg.

“Luanne will want to have as normal a life as she can, and that would almost certainly include a boy friend, and having sex with him,” Angel said, continuing that topic of the conversation they had been having at the Club.

“I would expect that, but I don’t know exactly what she would be doing with him. I don’t think she’s ever shared those kinds of details with me.”

“Do you want to find out some of the ways?” Without waiting for an answer, Angel got up from her chair, knelt between Gus’s legs and smiled at him, licking her lips as she did.

“Well, er, yeah. Sure.” Gus knew what Angel was about to start doing, or thought he did, and was totally in favor of the idea. He had been sucked off a few times in his life, of course, but never by a woman as beautiful as the young blonde who was on her knees in front of him.

Not wanting Gus to change his mind, Angel reached out to unbuckle his belt and unbutton the waistband of his pants. He rose slightly in the chair, and she unzipped his fly and hooked her fingers around the waistband to start pulling off his pants. Eager to expedite matters, Gus rose from the chair enough that Angel was able to pull the garment around his ass, all the way down his legs and off. Smiling at the prominent swelling in his boxer shorts, she unsnapped the waistband and treated them the same way she had treated his pants. With Gus naked below the waist, Angel looked gleefully at the big, hard cock that was protruding from his crotch.

She did much more than look. Resting one forearm on his thigh and holding his shaft with the fingers of the other hand, Angel raised her head above what she admired so much. After looking up at Gus and smiling again, she lowered her face to start licking the head. As she always likes to do, Angel’s tongue moved in concentric circles while she slowly brought her face closer to her goal, until the head was enveloped between her lips. Once again, her eyes smiled at Gus, and she winked and lowered her mouth all the way to his pubic hair, enveloping his entire cock, her avid tongue caressing his shaft as she did.

While the hair tickled her lips, Angel kept her mouth in place, letting her tongue lave the thick cylinder that filled it so well. After a few seconds, she slowly raised her head, keeping her tongue just as active. She stopped again when just the head was nestled between her lips, looked another time at Gus with her pretty blue eyes, and slowly lowered her face again, still licking, until the hair was tickling her lips again. Three times Angel’s mouth slowly moved up and down, caressing Gus’s cock and, after the fourth time, she held it in her fingers and raised her head to smile around it.

“That’s one of the ways your sister will have sex, except she will usually go a lot further than I just did. Do you want to see another way?”

Augustus didn’t say anything, just nodded his head while wishing the gorgeous blonde would take his cock back into her mouth and finish sucking him off.

“I can’t show you here; you’ll have to come into my bedroom.” Angel smoothed down her dress and started for her bed-sitting room, confident that Gus would follow her.

Her confidence was not misplaced. He followed her, stopping two feet behind Angel when she paused next to her bed and reached down to remove the blankets and top sheet. As she did every Friday morning, she had changed the bed so she would have clean sheets if she brought a man back home with her. When she glanced back and saw Gus, Angel reached up and lifted her long blonde hair out of the way.

“Unzip my dress and unhook my bra,” she instructed him.

With some fumbling, because he was not used to doing it, he eagerly complied, Angel peeled the sleeves off her arms while holding her bra cups in place. With her dress hanging loosely down from her hips, she turned to face Gus, her breasts still covered, and put on the little show she always enjoyed doing, especially with a new man. Angel spread her arms, one hand holding the bra, and put on display the treasures it had just been covering. Although she aydınlı escort didn’t say anything out loud, she thought “Ta Dahhh!” as she always did when completing this ritual.

Augustus just stared with astonishment. He had never seen his sister nude or even topless since she began the sex-change regimen, but he had seen her padded bras, and had halfway assumed all T-girls would wear the same kind of thing. As if to further prove how false this assumption was, Angel rolled her shoulders, making her lovely breasts bounce and sway in front of him, letting him know there was nothing the least bit artificial about them. Speechless, Gus continued to stare.

This slightly perturbed Angel. Until then, every person who had been treated to her little show had responded by reaching out, holding her breasts and licking them, and she very much wanted that tradition to continue. She reached out, took one of Gus’s hands and placed it under one of the succulent globes he should already have been squeezing and stroking with his hands and tongue. Almost as a reflex, he bent down and started licking her nipple the way Angel wanted.

As if realizing what he had, and wanting more of it, Gus reached up his other hand and started fondling the other of the beautiful twins, and moving his face back and forth between them to caress both nipples with his tongue. The slight perturbation that Angel had been feeling ended, and her body squirmed in front of Gus, adding to the pleasure of both of them. Of course, this was just a preliminary, with much greater delights in store for both of them.

Smiling lewdly, Angel reached around and under Gus’s arms and started unbuttoning his shirt. When she was done he, reluctantly, released the luscious globes his tongue and hands had been worshipping, turned around to let her remove the garment, followed by peeling his undershirt up and off, leaving him totally naked. After gently stroking Gus’s stiff cock, Angel gave him further instructions.

“Now turn around because it’s your turn to finish undressing me.” When he was facing her again, she continued: “Put your hands on my hips and push my dress down the rest of the way.”

Angel’s dress puddled around her ankles, and she stepped out of it, bent over to pick it up and draped it over the chair where she had left his clothing. When she turned back to Gus, she noticed how he was staring at the way her clit strained against her French knickers, much the same as his cock had been bulging inside his underwear.

“Like I was telling you about before, this is my clit,” she informed him while patting it for emphasis. Like all women, T-girls really love to have their clits played with while they’re fucking or having any other kind of sex. When Luanne is with her boyfriend, she’ll want him to do it too. I’ll show you what I mean in a few minutes. Now, sit on the bed.”

Hoping his cock would be back in the same warm, wet cavern of pleasure it had visited far too briefly, Augustus sat on the edge of the bed with his legs spread. His hopes soared when the beautiful T-girl knelt down in front of him and once again placed a forearm on his thigh while smiling and looking up at him. As she had before, Angel lowered her face while licking on the tip of the hard cock that was so eager to find its way into her mouth. Slowly, she engulfed the head, and continued to envelop the shaft, until her lips were once again being tickled by Gus’s pubic hair. Equally slowly, she raised her face, her tongue still laving his stiff cock, until just the tip was held between her soft lips, while looking adoringly at Augustus with her pretty eyes.

Angel loved the way his cock filled her mouth so well, and she wanted and intended to suck him off later. However, there was another place that she wanted it to fill first. Once again, she took Gus’s erection out of her mouth, licked the slit, and smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll suck you off and swallow your cum later, but there’s something else I want to show you first.”

Angel stood up, slid her stockings down her legs and kicked them off her feet. She turned away, and took a step toward the bureau where she kept condoms and Aqualube but, before going the rest of the way there, she looked provocatively back at Gus as he waited expectantly for her to share more pleasure with him. Still smiling, Angel hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her knickers, pushed the garment down around her hips and bum and let it slide all the way to the floor. After stepping out of the wispy garment, she bent over and spread her cheeks, giving Gus a perfect look at where his cock would be in a matter of minutes.

With one more step, Angel was at the bureau. She opened the top drawer and withdrew the bottle of Aqualube and a plastic packet that contained a condom. Before returning, she twisted the packet open, took out the contents, and dropped the wrapper back into the drawer. Back beside the bed, she handed the bottle of lubricant to Gus and knelt in front of him again. This time, instead of licking his cock, she held the center of the latex disk against the tip and rolled the condom on all the way. With that done, Angel stood up and climbed onto the bed, piling up some pillows in the center and getting to her hands and knees over them.

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Silence is Golden

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Shemale

I was awake and standing in a crouch beside my bed before I really knew why. My hand was on the electronic lock on top of the gun safe and I was already punching buttons when I heard the pounding on my front door. When you live in the woods, pounding on the door usually means a neighbor in trouble, but the hair on my arms was standing up, and over the years on battlefields both wild and urban, I’d learned to trust my body when it moved into that kind of a primal response. As the black Kimber Custom 1911 slid into my hand like an old but deadly friend, I grabbed a tactical light and headed into the front room of my cabin. The pounding was light, but persisted in a frantic staccato until the door rattled in its casement.

A figure was backlit by the nearly full moon. It was a woman or a child, by the size of the silhouette, and since it was pounding wildly with both hands, unarmed, unless the weapon was on the porch or beside the door frame. I advanced to the door without turning on any lighting, inside or out, to maintain my own night vision and to prevent a tango outside from finding me, unless a U.V. vision device was involved, and that kind of thinking was premature at this point, even for me. I flicked on the 2 million candle power tactical light, and in spite of years of training, I recoiled at the visage in the light. I’ve seen the faces of the fallen, the dying and the stricken in my life, but it’d been a while since I’d seen total abject terror like that on the face of the young woman at my door. Her hair was streaked with rain and mud, and her eyes were wild, darting back and forth in her wide eye sockets as she screamed. At least it looked like she was screaming, but although her chest heaved and her mouth opened wide, the only indicator that she was even breathing was the fog of her breath advancing and retreating on the glass.

With the notable exception of her tiny hands fluttering in percussion on the door, the night was silent.

She was quite petite; probably not quite five feet tall, and initially, I thought she was a child.

Her eyes settled for a moment and she saw me. She immediately looked over her shoulder into the dark forest at her back, then back at me. Whatever the source of her fear, it was behind her and closing fast. Without checking any further for weapons or other persons of interest, I yanked the door open and caught her as she stumbled into my home. She was soaked to the bone and shivering, but before I could even try to calm her, she pulled away, shot under my kitchen table and slid to a stop next to the wall. She lay in a ball, pointing at the woods and screaming soundlessly.

The rhododendron beside the driveway shuddered, and a large bearded man stumbled into the driveway. His plaid shirt was torn and bloody, his woodland camo pants were soaked and a large stainless revolver dangled from his right hand. I flipped on my illumination lights, and the front of the cabin burst into near daylight. Not coincidentally, the two outer lights were pointed straight out, effectively ruining the stranger’s night vision and blinding him. He threw one arm in front of his face to shade his eyes.

“ANNA! Anna, you come out of there right now, or I’m coming in for you!” He shouted, his shoulders rising with his breathing. “You’re in enough trouble as it is; don’t bring others into this! ANNA!”

He took two staggering steps toward the house.

“That’s far enough, friend!” I yelled.

“This is none of your business! Don’t take sides, or you will get hurt. You let my woman walk out of that nice cabin right now and I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t think your ‘woman’ wants to play with you any more, sonny. Why don’t you run along and fuck a nice coyote, or something closer to your intelligence?”

His face went dark, and he started for the porch. I placed a .45ACP Hydra-Shok +P+ round into the ground between his feet, and he lurched to a halt.

“I don’t see any way out of this that doesn’t involve you dying, friend. Let her go and I’ll make it fast!” He shouted, wildness glowing in his eyes.

“Better men than you have tried, son. You step onto this porch, and the buzzards will be eating your eyeballs by noon tomorrow.” I went to ‘low-ready’ in the doorway and as he raised his .44 Magnum, I planted two rounds in his sternum, directly into his heart. He sank to his knees, looked up at me and said, “Don’t do that again!”

His S&W 629 rose toward me again, so I put a round into his left eye. As the back of his skull flew into the trees, along with most of his twisted brain, I quietly said, “OK.”

I had performed a tactical reload and was checking the trees for more tangos when the little girl flew past me and leapt off the porch. She stumbled straight to the body in my driveway, and began to kick it with great gusto. Her arms flew randomly as the sound of her foot smacking into the corpse blended with the sound of the rain on broad rhododendron leaves.

“Hey! Can you hear me?” I shouted at her slender tuzla escort back. She stopped kicking the man in the plaid shirt, leaned forward until her hands were on her knees, and she threw up on the body. She staggered a little, and I jumped off the porch and caught her as she fell. A few moments later, we were inside and I laid her on the couch as I stoked the fire up. I hustled over and got my medical bag and a couple of blankets, then returned to the couch. A quick triage told me that she was no child, in spite of her diminutive stature; she was dehydrated and that her temperature was 92 degrees. Hypothermia is a deceptively dangerous condition, and frankly I was amazed that she hadn’t literally dropped over dead from all the excitement.

She started to fight again as I put the blankets over her, until awareness returned, and then she calmed and looked down at the blankets. I yelled out, “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”, whereupon she flinched and grabbed her ears, nodding. She pantomimed what appeared to be, ‘ears OK, can’t speak’ and motioned for pencil and paper.

“Well that will make this easier,” I said out loud. As she wrote slowly on the paper, I started some soup on the stove, as well as some tea.

She handed the paper to me, and started to shake. “Look, I have to get some warmth into you,” I said. You’re hypothermic and dehydrated, so let’s start with some tea, and then we’ll move to some soup when it looks like you’re not gonna throw it up.” I gave her some tea, and she poured it out into her mouth, and then tipped her head back. I was thinking how weird that was when I started to read the note.

‘Kidnapped a while ago. Don’t know what the date is now but he got me April 13th. Got away two nights ago. What do we do with body?

“Jesus Christ, Anna,” I said. “October. It’s October 20th. The fucker had you for over 6 months. We’ve got to get you well; there are tons of people worried about you. I don’t find myself in this position often, but I’m speechless.”

“Me, too,” I think she said. She motioned for the pad. I noticed with a shock how she held the pencil. Her thumbs were missing

I was the perfect target. Homeless for about a year, since I got out of college. Out of money, I went to a Library and advertised in the Adult section of Craigslist as a ‘personal masseuse’. Drugged me, and I woke up in a house in Lebanon, I think. I fought every chance I could, and he finally sedated me and clipped my cords and took my tongue out. When I picked the lock in my room, he took my thumbs away and told me that the next time I would lose more. He is ,or was, a doctor, that’s for sure.

Nobody missed me.

There’s nobody left.

I read her note. When I looked up, her face was turned down and she was shivering.

“Anna, I need to get you into a warm bath, and then get some soup into you. Can you stand?”

She tried, arms shaking as she attempted to rise, and then shook her head.

“Is it OK if I help you get into the bathtub?” She looked at me and nodded.

I slid my arms around her and stood. She placed her head on my shoulder as we made our way to the bathroom, a frown crossing her face as she found the tears on my cheek.

I sat her gently on the edge of the tub and started the water. I have an instant on heater, so the water was hot right away. I checked the temperature as it started to fill, since warm to me might be uncomfortably hot for her. I knelt before her and began to unlace her boots. They came off hard, probably because they hadn’t been off in quite a while. In addition to the smell that hammered its way into my sinuses, there was an extra sock wadded up in the end of each boot. When I took her first sock off, I found out why. No toes. Either foot. I looked up at her, rage in my heart, and she pantomimed running with her fingers and then shrugged her shoulders.

“I’ve never been glad to have killed a man before today, but I think I’ll sleep just fine tonight,” I said. She nodded slowly.

Her jeans were next. They were torn up enough that I didn’t think they were savable, and they smelled like feces, which proved to be the case. I guess captivity is not kind, even if it’s in your own country. She wore no panties, and she was filthy front to back. It took a couple of washcloths to get the worst of it, and I stripped her shirt off next. Her small breasts showed signs of starvation and dehydration. They sagged, like empty little sacks, nipples large and cherry round, pointing to the floor.

I held her under the arms, and she sighed as I lowered her into the bath. Her eyes were closed, and stayed that way as I bathed her. The scars on her hands were light pink and healed nicely, and as I lifted her arms to wash them, she curled her fingers around my hands. Her armpits and lower legs were covered in fine black hair, but I felt it was asking too much to go there right now. Besides, for some reason, I liked the look.

I partially drained and refilled the tub a couple of times over the next göztepe escort hour.until the water stayed clean, and by then she was starting to look a little flushed, so I retook her temp with my infrared ear scanner and she was up to normal. I rinsed her hair one more time and added some conditioner, then rubbed it slowly. Her head got heavier and heavier until she was asleep. I rinsed her off with the shower flex hose and lifted her out of the tub, barely waking her. I tucked her into bed, leaving a thermos of soup out in the bedside table, along with a cup and spoon.

Early in the afternoon, I put on my favorite holster, a Milt Sparks “Roadrunner”, snuggled the Kimber into it and stepped out onto the porch to deal with our unwanted intruder.

He was gone.

The rain had stopped, and the sun was warming the ground in spots to the point that there were little fog banks rising up from the forest floor. Through one spot near the Douglas fir with the blood splatter on it, I could see that there was a drag trail heading into the forest to the left. Only a few animals in this forest were large enough to move a 250 pound body. One was a black bear, but a bear was more likely to consume the body in place.

The little helper I was betting on was a cougar. I’d seen a fleeting glimpse of a nice healthy male a few weeks back, and I believed that the blood trail I was following was going to take me to the same animal. I proceeded very slowly, placing my feet carefully on the damp forest floor. After twenty minutes of tracking covering over a mile, I moved around the base of a tree and the largest cougar I had ever seen was twenty feet away from me. He had the dead man’s neck in his jaws, and his golden eyes bored into me with unbelievable focus. I backed away slowly, keeping the animal in sight, and shortly he began to consume the body. His eyes never left me, and he growled softly as he chewed, tearing great strips of flesh off the body. I made a GPS waypoint where I stood, so that I could return later to see if there was any evidence left, but as it appeared in the moment, I wouldn’t have to worry much about being found with a dead body. I would, however, make sure that the parts with bullet holes were never found.

The return trip to the cabin was faster, but I admit to looking over my shoulder much more than I normally would have, not wishing to feel the three inch fangs sinking into my neck after a majestic pounce.

Anne was still asleep when I got back, so I flopped out on the couch after locking up, and soon sleep overcame me.

I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. Anne was in the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of workout shorts cinched up around her tiny waist. I sat up and stretched, and before I’d finished, she was next to me, a cup of coffee carefully gripped between her thumbless hands. I took it from her, and my thank-you was answered with a shy curtsy. She pointed to the table, where two places were set. A legal pad covered in writing sat next to one of them.

I really don’t know where to begin. What do you say when a stranger saves your life and then treats you like a beloved friend? You could have turned away from me, or let the monster take me back, preferring not to get involved.

You treated me like a princess last night, and I don’t know the last time I felt secure, let alone as if I had a guardian with me.

I appreciate beyond my ability to express the kindness you’ve shown me. I also know that I’m in the beautiful home of a man who is used to solitude , so if you’d like me to leave, all you have to do is say so, and I’ll be on my way.

On the other hand, I don’t take up much room, I guarantee I will never raise my voice to you, and you’ll never catch my with my thumb up my ass.

With sincere appreciation,

DeeDee Holmes

p.s. his name for me was Ann. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that.

I sat and read her letter over again, impressed with the cojones it took to write it. Sometime during my reading, DeeDee had stopped cooking and stood looking out the back window as if she didn’t care what the outcome of the letter was. Her body language betrayed her, though. She was about to fly apart. I stood, laughing at the last paragraph, and as I walked up behind her she turned toward me.

“DeeDee, I want you to know that you owe me nothing. I did what any man worth the name would have done,” I said. Her head shook violently side to side, and she pointed at me. Her mouth formed the word ‘you’, and then she shook her head side to side again, and mouthed what I felt was ‘nobody else’.

“What I’m trying to say is that I am not solitary by nature, but I do have baggage along with me; leftovers from two wars and countless skirmishes. I was a Navy seal, and then a mercenary. I’ve done things I wish I hadn’t, and they haunt me, sometimes to the point of near-insanity. You need to know that you would be doing me as much of a favor as anything I’ve done for you. I think üsküdar escort you’re real special, and I’d love to have you stay until you want to go.”

By this time, she was vibrating in excitement, her hands clasped as if in prayer. I took her hands in mine and said, “You don’t have to pick up for me, or cook for me, or anything, though, OK? And by ‘anything’ I mean sex. You especially don’t owe me that.”

She came to me and wrapped her arms around my hips; her head resting against my chest. I figured her height at 4′ 6″ and her weight at around 80 pounds. I stroked her hair. “Your hair smells good,” I said.

‘Thank you’, she said silently. She pointed at the table, and we both sat down. She put a small forkful of scrambled egg in her mouth, then tilted her head to chew it. She realized that I was watching her and ducked her head. “It doesn’t bother me, DeeDee. If you wanted, I’d chew it for you like a momma bird and then yak it up for you.” She made a face at that, and then took a drink of OJ.

DeeDee took the pad back and wrote for a while. I watched her write and couldn’t help but smile. She was very pretty even without makeup, her attitude was unbelievable, considering what she’d been through, and her penmanship was already better than mine, although that wasn’t saying much. She slid the pad to me and smiled.

“You’re even prettier when you smile. I hope to make that happen a lot more often,” I said. She clapped her hands and beamed at me.

A couple of things I need to figure out, OK?

1.What’s your name?

2.I can’t be here if I don’t earn my keep. Please let me help you. I promise not to try to change things if you don’t want me to.

3.If you have a job, maybe I can help you do it.

4.I need some clothes and stuff. How can we get it and how can I pay it off?

5.What happened to the body?

“That’s fair enough, DeeDee.

“To answer your first question, my name is Ioan McKenzie. It’s spelled ‘I-O-A-N’ and pronounced ‘Owen’, though. My family is from Scotland; in fact my father was a first generation Scottish-American. I grew up just a couple of hundred miles from here, in Ashland, Oregon. I joined the Navy when I was 17 to get away from my dad, who was a proud alcoholic. I went to BUDS when I was 20, made the Teams, and stayed in as a SEAL for 22 years. Spec-ops is a young man’s game, so I retired. For the next ten years, I was an “Executive Problem Solver”, which is to say a mercenary executioner under informal contract to various governmental agencies, and got out of it a few years ago. So, to answer your unasked questions, I have killed people; actually, I have killed a lot of people, but every one of them was a monster in their own right, kind of like the guy who was chasing you last night. In fact, ‘Flannel Guy’ wouldn’t have even made the short list for the bad guys I’ve been asked to take down. It’s not your average life, but it worked for me; I would understand if you found it less than acceptable.”

“As far as things you can do around here, we can run this place together as partners for as long as you want to stay, and anything you would like to do is more than welcome. Partners means we make decisions together.”

“Third question; I have been paid a fairly obscene amount of money to do some fairly obscene things, so I don’t have to work, which means you don’t have to work either.”

“Fourth question. We are about 50 miles from a couple of big cities, Salem and Eugene. I could drive us both to the nearest truck stop and get you an outfit you could go out in, and then we’ll go shopping, OK?”

That got me a kiss on the cheek and a big hug. “Go easy on me, girl. I’m just little!” I blurted.

“Now as for the last question. ‘Flannel guy’ was due for a burial this morning, but when I went out to deal with him, I found that a cougar had beaten me to it. When I made eye contact with our furry benefactor, he was happily munching on ‘flannel guy’s’ head. I’ll follow up in a few days to make sure he didn’t leave any leftovers, but for now there are no skeletons in our collective closets.”

The trip to the truck stop was uneventful, although DeeDee insisted on giving money to all the street people she saw. I guess I’m going to have to put a box of dollars in the Land Rover. I got her a pair of jeans, some cheap tennis shoes and a “Peterbilt” t-shirt. I left her in Victoria’s Secret for a little while, gratified that the teenager who helped us didn’t seem to mind that DeeDee couldn’t speak. She actually seemed to think it was a game. I gave the girl a thank you hug and a $100.00 tip when I got back, and mentioned her to her manager, who made a big fuss over her. When I left, I put the Land Rover keys in DeeDee’s pocket so she wouldn’t worry that I’d leave her. She didn’t make a big deal out of it, but I could tell that she appreciated the thought.

I strode over to the Apple store and bought her a Macbook Pro like mine. Partly because I wanted her to be able to surf the internet, and partly because the Macs all have a voice synthesizer built in.

All in all, she got a lot of clothes and other girl stuff, and I got to make her happy and forget for a while. Believe me, forgetfulness is a gift, and you take it when you can get it.

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