Ay: Eylül 2025

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It was shocking at first. My ex had gotten into trample fetish play for a while when we were first married. At 5’1″ (155cm) and 100 lbs (45kg) she’s a tiny woman, like a pixie, and she was always slow and delicate about it. Plus it had easily been 5 or 6 years since we did anything like that. At 5’3″ (160cm) Tracy wasn’t much taller, but she was much more fit and a full 25 pounds (11kg) heavier, but here she was standing on my face. No questions, no preparation, no concerns, she just pushed down and stood on my face with all 125lbs. The smell, wetness, and overall sweatiness of her stocking feet went right out of my head, and my whole world revolved around the incredible, painful, ecstatically wonderful feeling of Tracy standing on my face.

Just when I was getting used to it she stepped backwards onto my chest. I looked up to see her face hovering above me. Knees bent a little, looking down at me with one hand on the coffee table and the other on the couch to keep her balance. Both feet on my chest and just standing there like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Are you ok? I’m so sorry. You told me once that you liked that so I thought it would be ok but I should have asked. Did I hurt you? Please say you’re ok, or at least not mad, or something.”

The words were flying out of her so fast that I couldn’t get a word in. When she finally breathed I told her that I was just fine..

She sighed, relaxed a little, and started in again with “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that right? You’ll tell me if I’m too heavy right? I should have asked first, or brought it up. You’re not mad are you?” and kept going for a couple of minutes until I started laughing which almost made her lose her balance.

She staggered a little and said “Oh my God, I’m standing on your chest!” and then twisted sideways to fall back onto the couch..

“Why didn’t you say something? I must have been crushing you. You should have told me to get off!”

I took a deep breath and told her to do the same. “Why? I was up enjoying having you stand on me, why would I tell you to get off?”

She gave me a puzzled look, and after a minute apologized again saying “Well I’m still sorry, I should have at least asked if you wanted me to. Last night I was thinking about all the things we’ve talked about, and the conversation about standing on your face popped into my head when you said to push as hard as I want. I really am sorry, sometimes I do things without thinking them through.”

I lay on the floor, listening to her ramble and trying not to laugh, but failing. She finally lightened up a bit and nudged me with her foot, telling me to stop laughing at her although she was starting to laugh too. When I finally stopped laughing, all I could say was “Damn!” That got her worked up again, worrying that she had hurt me, or that I was mad at her.

“Tracy, stop. I’m ok, more than ok actually. I love that you just stood on my face, and that you did it without any warning.” She didn’t seem to believe me so I continued, “Ok look. To be honest this night is full of surprises. I thought I had experienced your feet at their worst, or best (grinning), the day your chef quit, but they’re in a league of their own tonight. I mean, damn!”

“I know, I know. I’m bahçelievler escort such an idiot sometimes, always pushing things too far and ruining them. When I felt my feet slipping around in my boots at work I thought it would be funny to see your reaction to them like this, but I wish I had just gone home instead of texting you. I’m so sorry. Please say we can go back to the way we were yesterday.”

I must have looked confused, because she gave me a puppy dog look and just said “Please?”

I just looked at her for a minute, a little amused but wondering what it would take for her to understand. “Look Tracy, stop worrying. If I had known what your feet were like when you texted me, or that you would end up standing on my face like that, I would have bought you flowers or something. I definitely wouldn’t have said no or changed anything. I’m not mad, just the opposite. This is one of the best nights of my life.”

She finally looked up and smiled, asking “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“So I didn’t knock you out with the stink or crush your face when I stood on it?” She giggled a little at the end of her question so I knew she was starting to relax.

I laughed a little, saying “No, you didn’t knock me out or crush my face. Why don’t we go out on the deck, calm down, and finish those drinks. You seem like you’re a little shaken up.”

She agreed that was a good idea and started to head outside. I called her back and handed her boots to her. She gave me a puzzled look, so I explained that the deck was kind of dirty and I didn’t want her feet to get all filthy or ruin her stockings.

She started laughing as she pulled them on, saying “you just don’t want them filthy in case I stick them in your face again.”

I knew she caught me, so I just laughed and responded with “Well yeah, there’s that too.” It was good to hear her laugh at that.

We sat on the deck for a while finishing the drinks I made over an hour ago which were now completely watered down. She still looked a little concerned so I changed the subject a little by asking her if she enjoyed what we did earlier. It took a minute, but she finally answered “You know what, I did. The first few times we sat in my car I was so worried, but you didn’t seem to mind that my feet stunk. Of course the foot massages are great, but as weird as it is, it really feels good when you breathe between my toes. I don’t know why you like it or what you get out of it, but I really don’t care.”

She laughed at herself a little, paused a minute, and continued. “I don’t know what came over me today though. When we were setting up for dinner I was walking around and felt my feet squishing, and started giggling because I immediately imagined your expression if I stuck them in your face the way they were.”

It was fun to hear her laughing at herself while explaining her thought process, so I laughed along with her until she continued. “Anyway, I actually planned on just teasing you about it. You always tell me that you like when my feet smell, but they’re really awful today. I wasn’t going to text you, but then I did. I was going to just tease you during the ride home, but then I got off the train with you. Of course bağcılar escort the drinks didn’t help.”

She giggled at herself again but continued, “When you lay on the floor I couldn’t help resting my feet on you as a tease. I didn’t think you’d mind my boots on you, you told me that once, but I was actually telling myself that I had to leave them on. Tapping you was mostly a tease. You weren’t taking them off me so I thought that you probably realized how hot they were all day, but then there I was pulling them off. I really don’t know how you survived. The smell was terrible even up where I was sitting.”

Her laugh started sounding a little nervous, so while she was giggling I said “Well don’t worry, I don’t understand it either. I just know that stockings, boots, and sweaty feet do something to me. This was just incredible today, beyond what I ever imagined, but I loved it. I really do think I was in a trance when you were using my face to massage your feet.”

It was my turn to dig up an old conversation we had: “Remember when we first met? You told me that you liked to lick an old girlfriend’s breasts when she came home from the gym, and enjoyed it a few times when she trapped your face in her armpit when you were doing it. I think that’s a lot like me with feet. It doesn’t make sense, but you loved it.”

Tracy finally smiled, saying “Mhmm, I guess that makes sense. I kept expecting you to push them off your face, and that you were just being nice by not complaining. I’m so relieved that you weren’t all grossed out by it.”

It was good to see her finally accept that I really did enjoy this, but didn’t want to dwell on it, so I changed the topic a little. “So… you stood on my face, huh. Outside of worrying that you were killing me, what did you think of it?”

She took a few breaths, both to think and keep herself from getting worked up. “Well at the time I didn’t think of it at all. I didn’t plan anything out, it just kind of happened. Honestly when you first lay on the floor the thought of stepping on you to get to the couch crossed my mind, maybe that had something to do with it. But it all happened so fast that I was almost surprised to look down and see you under me.”

I got a good laugh out of that. “Well then I don’t know who was more shocked about it.”

She laughed at that as well, took a big gulp of her drink, and relaxed a little more. “As soon as I realized that I was standing on your face I knew it was a mistake. I didn’t know what to do. I only stayed there as long as I did because I was in a kind of frozen panic with a million things whipping through my head.”

“Oh my God, I’m standing on his face. What’s wrong with me; why am I standing on his face?

Why isn’t he saying anything, or screaming at me?

Is he unconscious?

How do I explain this? He’s going to hate me.

He said he likes this, but this must hurt like hell.

Did I not understand something? This can’t be right, it has to be killing him.

What am I doing? I must be crushing his face.

Am I breaking his nose?

No, I’m not standing on his nose, can you break someone’s cheek bones?

Oh my God, get off his face already. How do I get off ümraniye escort without hurting him more?

He’s going to hate me so much. Why did I do this?

I should have just gone home.

He’s never going to talk to me again, I’m such an idiot.

Is he even breathing, I can tell if he’s breathing.

I really like having him as a friend, why did I do this?

Shit, get off his face already!”

“Then I was looking down at you. I don’t really remember making the decision to get off, and definitely not deciding that it would be better to stand on your chest than on your face. I was just suddenly off your face”

She was a little shaky from reliving it, hell I was dizzy just listening to her relating the turmoil in her head at the time. “Jeez, you really were panicking. Well you can relax. You didn’t kill me, or break my face, or hurt me too much. And I definitely want to stay friends. I’m not going away.”

She visibly relaxed at that, saying “Thank you so much. When I was standing, um, on your face, that still sounds weird to say, I was so worried that I was really hurting you, and that you’re never want to talk to me again.”

I told her “Well of course it hurt, you’re 125 lbs and were standing on my face, but that’s part of the enjoyment for me. The fact that your feet were as incredibly sweaty and smelly as they were today only made it better.”

“Really? So you like that it hurts?I wish I knew that earlier, I probably wouldn’t have panicked as much.”

We both got a laugh out of that. I wanted to get her take on all this, so asked if she enjoyed it at all when she stood on me. It took a couple of minutes, but she finally answered.

“Maybe? I think so? I was so worried that I was hurting you that I didn’t think about how it felt doing it, but I guess so. It was definitely different than just rubbing my feet on you. It probably would have been different if I didn’t think I was going to end up in a hospital with you trying to explain how your nose got broken and why you face stunk like feet.”

I got a good laugh out of that, and finally said “Good, so the next time you can relax, be your normal mischievous self, and have fun.”

“The next time? Really?”

“Well yeah, if you’re ok with it”

“You really want to do that again? I was sure I was putting too much weight on you. I didn’t smash your face?”

“You did smash my face, but definitely not too much. Like I said, I like that kind of pain. I hope you’re ok with that.”

I could see the look on her face change from one of disbelief to understanding.

“Well now that I know I’m fine with it, I just didn’t realize that’s what you’re into. I thought you just liked smelly feet. I’ve had a couple of girlfriends who were into some pretty extreme things so I get that pain can be exciting. I have no problem causing discomfort and even hurting you a bit if that’s what you want.”

Well that made me shiver a bit in excitement and we had a rambling conversation about her past experiences, mostly with biting and scratching, and how one of her exes liked being bit hard enough that it would leave a bruise for a few days. By the time we were done she had relaxed, and was smiling a little at the memories. I told her since that was out of the way, she could just have fun next time and not worry about killing me.

She leaned across the table, stared me right in the eye, and said “You better watch out what you ask for”. I looked back at her and saw her biting her lip with that glint in her eye and got the distinct impression that things were going to get a lot more interesting.

To be continued…

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Mila crossed her legs. Her sheer stockings slid over each other and gave a static shock. She flinched, but also enjoyed the sensation.

Her thick panties, her protective bra, revealed enough. Well, not enough for Mila’s liking. Her ample breasts were tucked snuggly, so snuggly that they did not sway when she walked, and they were so covered that she might as well been wearing a sports bra.

Her panties, as well. Thick, a bit riding, and secure.

Her garments were secure, save her staticky stockings, and while they aided her in patrolling the castle, they left far too much of her body to the imagination.

The doorknob turned. Mila snapped out of her trance. This room, much as any other commoner’s, was sparse. Wooden walls without paint, a broken window letting in the elements, a horseshoe dangling from a nail on the wall.

Typical. Mila rolled her eyes.

The door began to open, slowly at first until Zoey was in complete view. Mila sighed.

She hardly knew Zoey, apart from being, well, common. This shack could have been hers, and Mila would not have been surprised.

However, it was not. Rather, it was lent for today’s cordial by a beady-eyed hag, who probably wanted a piece of the spoils.

There was something, still, unique about Zoey. Mila noticed this as the low country girl stepped in. Zoey nodded her head and came to shake hands.

“Thank you for comin’!” Her blues eyes lit up. Her voice was rural. Blatantly a farmer’s daughter. Her dirty blonde hair ran to her mid back, which was part of a slim figure.

“Don’t mention it.” Mila halfheartedly shook Zoey’s hand.

Before Mila had time to say anything else, Zoey started undressing.

To which, Mila was surprised.

Zoey’s figure was surprisingly toned. Her breasts were just enough for handfuls, supple like bread dough, and tipped with dark pink nipples.

Her farm-tanned skin, which was dented by sunspots and small scars, and a triangle birth mark above her right ass cheek, glowed healthily; her shaded abs contrasted this.

But her ass. Mila caught herself licking her lips.

It was the product of manual labor. Years of it. Years of swinging a pitch axe and hoe, years of bending over and picking up. Whatever the gods gave her, she sculpted to tantalizing perfection.

Mila wanted to slap or bounce coins off Zoey’s ass… until the farm girl turned around and smiled.

“I’m ready!”

Mila shook herself back to the current moment and squinted.

“That’s not how this works.”

Zoey frowned. “Oh… I’m sorry, should I get dressed?” A shade of blush barely made it through her tan cheeks.

Mila shrugged. “Up to you. I don’t–“

“No, stay naked. Slut.”

The voice was cutting, yet reserved. Gloria stood in the doorway, sizing her opponent up.

Now Mila was excited. She crossed her legs the other direction and shifted on her stool. This might be a good match.

Gloria was born, raised, and simply was, beautiful. Her dark hair, somewhere between walnut and mahogany, was only outdone by her eyes. Sometimes.

They always saw the room first, took everything in. Then the person. Gloria predatorily looked her opponents up and down, seeing beyond size and bust but also muscle and tension and fatigue.

Then Gloria saw the soul. Her dark eyes read a girl’s fear (and pleasure) like a book.

Mila never saw Gloria’s full matches. She only heard the rumors and caught the end, where Gloria’s opponents were crumpled on the floor. Sobbing. Or begging for more. Or both.

Gloria stepped into the room. She had black silk on, that she let slip off and fall to the floor.

It was comically out of place there. The floor was cold cobblestone. It had been brushed of hay and mud, but it was far from clean.

And definitely not where hundred coin silk belonged.

Gloria stepped out of it and began undoing her bra straps.

Mila was throbbing. Her heart, her clit, her mind, throbbing. As Gloria undressed, all Mila could fixate on was the purity.

Whether it was because she was born rich, or had proper care and nourishment, Gloria’s skin was pure.

Fair, clear, and unblemished. It was smooth and made Mila’s mouth water.

And it fit her curves, which were more and more revealed as Gloria undid her bra and panties.

Round breasts that Mila wanted to twist, and knew would bounce right back. Light brown nipples, button nipples, and a slender body that deceptively curved like a vase.

Mila uncrossed her legs.

That is when she noticed it.

Zoey was… either brave or oblivious. Mila knew the two could go together, and even be related, but in the face of Gloria, how could Zoey not be intimidated.

Or just jaw dropped.

Instead, Zoey had a dumb grin.

“Glad you made it from your tower. Didn’t trip over your servants?”

Gloria did not respond. She looked Zoey up and down again. The farm girl was shamefully hidden under baggy work clothes. The drab and tough çeşme escort fabrics were probably hell on skin.

Then again, Gloria thought, the farm girl might be more immune to pleasure that way.

Gloria also noticed Zoey’s ass. It was, handedly, better.

Gloria surmised her own rear, which was nothing to scoff at. It was trim. It was athletic, but also leaned to the tinier side.

Zoey’s ass was built for long fights, however. The smooth shape that came from hard earned muscle, and innate genetics that made every pair of pants a little too difficult to button, would have reserves of strength and endurance.

Gloria would lose grappling. She decided then and there.

Mila coughed to break the tension. “Well, this is not how things go. Typically.”

Zoey, whose smile faded, and Gloria stared at each other.

“This is still a cordial match of two consenting parties. I, as castle patrol, shall mediate this match until a fair and…” Mila could not stop ogling both girls. Zoey’s ass. Gloria’s breasts. “…dominant girl is found.”

Mila swallowed and retrieved two vials from her satchel.

“You both shall drink the elixir, state your griefs, and await my instruction. Am I understood?”

The girls did not stop looking at each other.

“Am. I. Under. Stood.?” Mila’s voice became cold and professional. Attractive as today’s contestants were, Mila was castle patrol. She had a job to do.

The girls turned to Mila and accepted the elixirs. After some coughing from the bitter liquid, Mila nodded towards Gloria: “State your grief.”

Gloria did not say anything at first. She let the wind whistling through the broken window, and creaking door hinges behind her, speak first.

And her nipples hardening. Both girls became visibly aroused as the elixir worked further down. Their eyes widened and there was agitation in their stance, as Mila thought she noticed thin wetness on both their crotches.

“Respect.” Gloria finally said. “This farmer humiliated me.”

Mila saw something she never would have guessed in all the Ravenous One’s domain.

Gloria–blush?

Just the smallest hint of pink shaded Gloria’s cheeks until she caught it and returned to cold and calculating.

“This farmer does not know her place. After throwing wine in my face, I will make sure she knows the difference between commoner and elite. Between farmhand and scholar.”

Mila nodded then turned to Zoey. “Your turn.”

Zoey shrugged. “Prissy bitch over here pretty much summed it up. I threw her wine in her face cause she was mouthing off like she owned the place.”

Gloria quietly muttered, “I do own the place.”

All the girls stopped and looked at each other until Mila spoke.

“If you two still contest your griefs, I shall present you with acceptable penance offerings.”

Hesitantly, Zoey and Gloria looked at each other and gave near imperceptible nods.

“Then the stakes are bedmates. Conditionally. For two days.” Mila sat down and crossed her legs. “And public knowledge of the winner. Is this still…” Mila leaned forward. “Acceptable?”

She knew Zoey would not care but Gloria had to. The last part was her greatest risk. If she lost, the people would know. Not only her persona, but her status would be shattered.

The two contestants nodded again. Gloria did her best to conceal her anxiety about the stakes. And to her credit, she did.

Being bedmates with Zoey, a filthy commoner. But not just a filthy commoner. Her. It just had to be this bizarre farmgirl from nowhere who had to have a temper and had to know how to catfight and… had to be dripping with sex.

Gloria let her mind wander just a bit. She knew it was the elixir working, and she knew Zoey was doing the same. In the quiet moments before Mila would drop a red handkerchief, both girls were glassy eyed and imagining winning. How good it would feel to toy with the other girl. To make her scream and shiver from pleasure.

How good it would feel to nip at her nipples, then just bite down all together.

Or the toys, and the ropes, and keeping her locked up. Or simply just edge her. Make her want an orgasm from the better woman. Make her beg with pleading eyes, and pleading eyes alone, because her mouth would be full with…

As if Catalina, the goddess herself, intervened, both girls realized it at the same time:

How bad it would feel to lose.

Mila dropped the red handkerchief and the match was underway.

Both contestants locked hands, and Zoey immediately took the advantage. Her ass puffed outward, and the musculature in her shoulders tensed. Gradually, Gloria took steps back. Her arms were straining, and her breasts already jiggled up and down from her heavy breaths.

Another step, shit. Gloria tried to pull her fingers out of Zoey’s grip to no avail.

The farmgirl smiled. “Now where was all that good talk from a minute ago, huh?” Zoey’s başakşehir escort eyes widened. Her nostrils flared as she forced Gloria to give ground.

Gloria knew this was a losing battle. Zoey had maybe fifteen extra pounds of country muscle on her, and it did not even look like she broke a sweat. This was a battle of brute force, grinding girl against girl, and now tit against tit as the two clashed. Gloria initiated the fully body contact. She knew her tits were better, more cushion.

It worked. Zoey bore into it fully.

“Breakin’ a sweat already? Damn.” Zoey whispered in Gloria’s ear.

The close contact sent shivers, and Gloria’s nipples stiffened further; they were sore from the constant rubbing. Her own ass was tiring from Zoey’s constant pressure. Her womanhood was becoming strangely wet from it, especially when a misplaced thigh would bump into it.

Gloria’s plan worked.

Before Zoey had time to grind nipples again, which was ecstasy due to Gloria’s pained expressions, she was plummeting to the floor.

Before she had time to push herself up, there was a weight on her back, then slender fingers in her hair.

Gloria took in a deep breath and yanked Zoey’s blonde hair. She yanked until out of breath and the farmgirl was screaming.

“Let go, rich bitch!”

Yank.

“Gah! I’ll put my foot right up your ass!”

Yank.

Gloria learned from several matches that threats were intimidating, but silence bred uncertainty and uncertainty was fear.

Yank.

Zoey was clasping Gloria’s wrists to free her hair. Once again–Gloria’s plan worked.

Zoey was in no position to push back up; she was both occupied and distracted, and it was time for Gloria to begin the end of the match. Using Zoey’s firm grip as an anchor, Gloria stopped pulling hair, and pushed. She pushed Zoey’s face into the stone floor.

Tears welled in Zoey’s eyes as blood rushed to her cheek.

“Stop, dammit!” Spit flew from her mouth as she screamed. But it was not just her face.

Her breasts were compressed and bulging outwards; blue veins were visible beneath her tan skin as the porous cobblestone floor grated her nipples.

She was furious. She was desperate. She was extremely wet.

Gloria first noticed, and it is questionable if Zoey ever did notice her own subconscious humping of the floor. It started subtle. Just a tap or bump. Eventually, it was soft grinding. Gloria first thought Zoey was trying to grind her way out of this from the bottom. In truth, it was divine.

Gloria left streaks of her nectar on Zoey’s tan skin. The grinding, despite meant for the floor, made something bubble up in Gloria.

Still, this was one sided. Gloria furthered this by removing one hand to pinch the side of Zoey’s breast; she took the skin and rolled it between her fingers until red.

Zoey bucked immediately, almost throwing Gloria off, but fell back down, more tired and defeated than before. Pressure bent her skull, the floor grated her nipples, Gloria worked the sides of her breast, and…

Zoey’s eyes widened. Yes. She was incredibly horny. The floor directly beneath her crotch was damp as she had continually humped it for the past minute. Its only getting worse.

She had never been so horny. Every nerve ending in her was on fire. She needed it, she needed Gloria to press her face twice as hard, to pinch her breasts until they scarred and slap her ass until it was red.

Her body yearned for more pressure.

More bending until something broke.

Zoey flailed. She was not screaming, she moaned. Load and uncontrollably until she was out of breath; she rammed her pelvis into the floor. The sensation of the floor scratching her entire body, of her heated rival on her back, of… warm streaks also on her back?

Whether it was intentional or not, Zoey’s constant grinding had made Gloria gushing. Not only did she struggle to keep pressure on Zoey’s head, she had stopped pinching the farmgirl’s breasts and could hardly keep balance between the humping and her own lust.

Zoey summoned every ounce of muscle in her glorious ass and stood. Gloria tried to push down at first, which became an effort to hold on, which became an effort to step away as Zoey slid out and stood back up.

All three efforts failed. Nothing brings vigor like the brink of death or orgasm, and Zoey was still at the brink. Gloria felt strong hands grab her breasts and squish.

Gloria shrieked. As a bonus, her dark hair covered her face so she could barely see. Zoey did not care.

She compressed Gloria’s breasts until they bulged out from between her fingers, red and inflamed. Zoey squeezed until the nipple of the left breast popped out from beneath her palm. Zoey could not contain herself (nor should she have).

She hunched over.

All Gloria felt was a warm breath, then crunch. Zoey bit down on the nipple, like a berry, and tugged back.

Gloria’s küçükçekmece escort legs went weak, the only thing keeping her up was the grip Zoey had on her nipple and breasts.

To add insult, Zoey began working her tongue in small circles on the tip of Gloria’s nipple.

The brunette beauty could not take it. Her knees gave. She could only save herself by falling into Zoey, as if she were desperately hugging. Zoey obliged.

She let go of Gloria’s nipple and breasts and switched to a bear hug. Gloria, in a daze, barely knew she had been hoisted in the air and was plummeting down.

The two crashed into the ground, Gloria taking both the fall and Zoey’s weight.

She groaned. Her arms and legs could not move, her lungs could not pull in air, and the blow to her head mixed with the horniness between her legs until she could not see straight.

Mila got off the stool. “Do you yield, Lady Gloria?”

Zoey pinched the maimed nipple and began rolling it. “Better give, bitch.” She sneered.

Gloria tried to roll out of it but was immediately (and easily) pinned back down. Zoey slapped her. “GIVE.”

Gloria did not try to roll again. She did not even try to remove the hand that tugged and rolled her nipple. She was a plaything, laying there.

She did not even move when Zoey inserted three fingers into her womanhood.

“I aint gonna be gentle with ya, hun.” Zoey began stretching Gloria’s hole to fit a fourth finger.

And all Gloria could do was lie there. Still. Not broken, but frozen. Her nipple in searing pain, her womanhood radiating pleasure through her entire body until goosebumps popped.

Zoey did not stop.

Mila got to one knee. “Lady Gloria, if Zoey forces an orgasm, she will be the victor… Do you give?”

Mila hardly believed the words she was saying. Gloria, the brunette dominatrix who read, dismantled, and devoured other champions was nothing more than a wet rag on the floor. Zoey was merciless. Sweat glistened off her body as every muscle filled with blood. She was exquisite, forcibly removing an orgasm from Gloria who did not even have the honor to give. Or speak.

Gloria could merely take it. She was nearing her cracking point. Zoey was already covered in Gloria’s nectar, her fingers had begun to prune as the slish and slosh got louder. Gloria could barely hold her cum in. She was sore and dazed and… counting.

Gloria did not say a word. She did not even move. Instead, she counted. She counted the rhythm of Zoey’s fingers. One, two, three. One, two, three.

Each pump brought her to the brim. She could feel every vessel of her southern lips swell, and cum escape out. She inhaled, desperately trying to distract herself from the burning need to release. She was so close, her legs twitched, her heart was between her ears, and Zoey kept going.

One, two, three. Her womanhood was screaming to let go. To take the bondage and just let go.

One, two… three. There. Gloria’s plan was working.

Zoey had spent so much energy getting up, in the bear hug, and forcibly fingering. In a bizarre case of irony, now her nectar covered Gloria’s stomach, making it slippery.

One… two… three.

Gloria had to move. In two more pumps, she would explode. Zoey had to be tired enough to budge. Had to be.

One… tw–

Gloria summoned every ounce of remaining energy. She bucked her hips first, throwing Zoey forward; Zoey flailed for a moment before realizing what happened and planted her hands to the floor. She was still on top of Gloria, albeit her crotch was on Gloria’s mouth–perfect.

Gloria twisted her legs to give Zoey an extra obstacle to her womanhood. Even if it was a few seconds of handfighting before Zoey pried Gloria’s legs open, those were seconds Gloria recovered.

And seconds Zoey was eaten out.

Gloria extended her tongue and began the alphabet. Zoey’s back arched instantly. She looked at the ceiling and gritted her teeth.

“Dammit–ah!”

The elixir put both girls in overdrive. Both girls were incredibly horny, and both hung off cliff’s edge.

Zoey struggled to reach behind through waves of electrifying pleasure. She found Gloria’s womanhood guarded by crossed thighs.

“Coward!” She cursed.

E… F… Gloria’s tongue silently swirled. Nectar spilled from Zoey. G…

Gloria was also exhausted, however. She could only keep her thighs locked for so long until Zoey dug a way in.

A jolt of warmth and pain shot up Gloria. Her tongue stuttered, but she persisted.

H…

One… two… three…

Mila watched in disbelief. She had not taken the elixir. Still, her thick panties were damp from excitement. Zoey, a fresh face from the fields, did not just hold her own. She had Gloria on the ropes. Both girls, slicked in sweat, muscles giving out, womanhoods pushed to the limit’s edge, were moaning and fiercely competing.

I…

One… two… three…

Gloria could not take it. Her vulva, her clit, her insides were slicked and fever hot. Zoey managed to force a fourth finger in and was working on the fifth. Gloria’s southern lips had been twisted, stretched, and were quivering; she needed to release. Her orgasm was at peak. Her breasts were full with fluid and though she tried to fight the arching of her back, she could not.

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It was time Karla showed Jack who was the boss. Inviting him back to her flat after work, she had a plan. She dug out her most outrageous pair of high heels. The open-toe platform slingbacks. The ones that were far too racy to ever wear to work.

In fact, the heels on them were so high that she had to move slowly to avoid toppling over. Her toes were painted a bright pink colour which clashed – deliberately – with the black of her shoes. Now she just had to wait for him to turn up.

As the pair had developed a friendly relationship over the years, it was not unusual for them to meet up outside of work. They had cooked for each other, gone out to dinner together and visited local landmarks. Both were glad, on occasion, to have some company.

Jack arrived, knocked on the door and let himself in. Karla always made sure her flat was in pristine condition, especially if she was entertaining, and by the time Jack arrived she had popped a couple of tea bags in two clean mugs and flicked the kettle on as she heard him come in.

Jack took his usual seat and thanked Karla as she handed him his drink. He’d noticed her footwear – it would have been impossible not to – and he sensed that as they chatted about work and the weather that she was trying to catch his attention.

Of course she was. If stretching her legs out and wiggling her toes wasn’t going to work, she would have to take charge of the situation. “So, what do you think of my new shoes, then?” she asked.

Jack smiled. “Well, how shall I put this,” he began, noting Karla tilting her head and part-frowning as he spoke, “They make me want to get on my hands and knees and start licking your feet.”

Quick as göztepe escort a flash, Karla, with a wicked smile, said, “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Jack smiled too, but he wore a slightly nervous smile. Karla had rather quickly moved from being completely unsure about foot fun to wanting to dominate him. She now took his hand as he stepped forward, and said quietly, “Down you go, boy.”

Jack sunk to his knees, ran his fingers up and down Karla’s shoes before jamming a finger of each hand underneath her heels. Then, he started licking the toes on her right foot moving her feet closer together so he could lick all of her toes in one go, going from left to right and back again.

Karla let him carry on like this for a few minutes, looking on and feeling empowered by having him at her feet. But she couldn’t let him get too comfortable. She pulled her feet away from him and lifted them up, resting them on the arm of the chair Jack had been sitting on earlier.

“Lick my heels,” she commanded.

Jack nodded and swivelled to his left. He quite liked this dominance, and it was turning him on. He arched his head up and started licking Karla’s heels, commencing at the bottom, and again moving across both feet until he was licking and sucking on her ankles. Karla had laid her head back and closed her eyes as Jack’s tongue moved from her heels to her Achilles and ankles. She breathed in deeply and let out a quiet moan. She couldn’t help it.

“Right, you can take my shoes off now,” she said firmly.

Jack carefully eased the shoes off Karla’s feet, making sure he trailed a finger or two down her soles çorlu escort and toes as he did so. As he placed them on one side, remaining on his knees, Karla put her feet on Jack’s legs.

Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted Karla to sense he had an erection or not, although he was given no time to overthink it as Karla issued her next instruction.

“I love those shoes, but they make my feet ache,” she said. “Make my soles feel better.”

Jack gave a small nod, but before he could say anything more, Karla had moved her feet up towards his shoulders and pushed him down, so he was lying on the floor. He shuffled forwards, so he was directly under her feet, which were smothering his face. Karla laughed to herself as Jack held the top of her feet and began to feverishly lick her soles. As he did so, she pushed hard and moved her feet up and down so she could get what she wanted.

“Good boy,” she purred as Jack continued. “Not suffocating you, am I?” She giggled.

Jack shook his head. He was loving the feeling of having Karla’s feet pressed into his face so he could smell, feel, and taste every bit of them. By now, he’d stopped caring about whether Karla had noticed how much he was getting turned on.

Karla wasn’t interested.

As she had covered Jack’s face with her feet, and he couldn’t see anything, she had taken the opportunity to touch herself. Being in charge and having her feet played with really did turn her on. It was triggering feelings she hadn’t felt for a long time. She lessened the pressure she was putting on Jack’s face and dragged her feet down his face until her toes were crossing his lips.

“Mmm, ümraniye escort suck my toes now,” Karla said, closing her eyes as she fed her big toes into Jack’s mouth. Similarly, Jack closed his eyes as he sucked hard, trying to keep up as Karla teased him by wiggling about and slipping different toes in and out of his mouth. It was all Karla could do to stop herself from letting herself go, and Jack was feeling much the same.

Karla wasn’t about to let this feeling pass. She sat up and motioned Jack to do the same.

“Get behind me,” she said. Jack was confused. Karla swung her feet, so they were underneath her chair. She pointed at the back of her chair and told Jack precisely what she wanted him to do.

“Get underneath and suck from behind.”

Another smile from Jack. He’d always fantasised about worshipping the feet of women who were hiding their faces from him and this position suited both of them.

For Jack, it meant he could suck Karla’s toes and rub his cock. Karla was by now gently working a finger up and down inside her knickers, but doing so as calmly and carefully as she could. She was highly aroused, but she was determined to keep that a secret.

Jack made sure that he spent time sucking each of Karla’s toes and licking the gaps between them. He could hear her moan as he did this and despite Karla trying to be discreet, he knew she was touching herself.

Jack could have spent all evening with Karla’s feet in his mouth, but Karla wasn’t about to let him have things his way. She made sure her hands were back in her lap when she pulled her feet away from Jack and stood up.

“I quite enjoyed that, Jack,” she said. “Thank you very much. You may go home now.”

Jack did as he was told. Karla was not somebody who often revealed her feelings and no matter how abruptly the liaison had been ended, he’d thoroughly enjoyed it himself. More than Karla could have possibly imagined.

And he now knew that he was turning her on as much as she was turning him on.

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It’s often said that people have a ‘prime’ in life. At almost forty, newly divorced, I realized I was past mine. Once the co-captain of my high school basketball team, a second string quarterback, I got a scholarship to college, married the blonde hometown prom queen, taught Sunday School, and worked my way up to Assistant Vice President at the bank. Sounds like a modern fairytale, right? Well, one afternoon in the early 1990’s, an answering machine message turned it all to shit.

“Jewdy Dan’ls, yew stay’way from mah huzzbun, yew fuckin’ ho-wurrrr!” The angry woman’s voice blasted out of the speaker, her deep West Virginia accent resonating across my kitchen. I thought Judy, my wife of fifteen years, had been too interested in her voluntary church clerical work lately and too uninterested in sex the last few months. The pissed off caller was our minister’s wife.

I stayed calm and didn’t jump to conclusions. Wanda, the preacher’s nutty spouse, may have just been jealous or mistaken. When Judy got home, I had barely mentioned the message from the household of charismatic Reverend Tommy Foster, when my wife broke down and confessed in a sobbing pile at my feet.

About the same time the divorce was progressing nicely, my regional bank was being bought out by a bigger one, so I took a job at a large data processing center in suburban Baltimore. I left the small town scandals, gossip, and green valleys of dairy and coal country behind to start over.

At first my job was crappy, being from the acquired bank, no one, even my own team, took my title or ideas seriously. Meaningless reports and paperwork piled up on my desk, much of it delivered by the print room’s sullen employee, Saleesha. She never smiled, even when I cracked a joke. The short woman was African-American, as were over half the women in the building, which was mostly staffed with female employees. Saleesha was a big girl, and I know ‘wide as she is tall’ is a derogatory cliché, but this woman almost met that description. Maybe a height of five foot two, despite smaller hands and feet, her upper limbs were thick with flesh that nearly overhung her joints. Her torso was proportionally large, but her shape was still somewhat of an hour glass, wide hips balanced by her honeydew melon-sized breasts. The perceived flaws of her body faded when gazing at her face, which was minimally affected by her weight, stunningly pretty with big dark eyes and a bright smile. I only knew of the smile because it was seen in a portrait on her desk of her and her son. She wore wigs daily, as did a few of the other women, as her hair was wavy and reddish one day and straight and black the next, then back to reddish. Like all of us, she wore conservative business clothes every day, but upper management began a new ‘casual Friday’ policy, and a short-sleeved, scoop neck top with a bit of crowded cleavage revealed smooth, flawless skin, except for a hint of, well, cellulite on the back of her upper arms. I paid the anomaly no mind at the time. She was just another coworker at that point.

One day I passed a young woman in tears at her desk. On her dark green screen was a blinking orange cursor, that was all. I asked her what was wrong. She typed ‘logon’ and nothing happened. She feared she would get in trouble for not finishing her work. I had her try another code, which worked.

Within days I was the most popular guy on my floor. The employees had not been trained very well on the ‘other’ system, meaning the computers of my old bank, and I was darting around giving hints and shortcuts to all the women, when they weren’t stopping by my tiny office to ask questions, chat or show me pictures of their families. They even felt comfortable enough to kid me about my ‘hillbilly’ accent. My bosses were happy the work was getting done faster and put me in charge of most of the area.

The sole holdout from my new fan club was Saleesha, still unfriendly. On a rainy weekend, I began to find out why. She had been dealt a rough hand in life.

Upon taking the job transfer, I had moved to an apartment complex close to the office, and later I found out Saleesha, a single mom, lived across the parking lot. One Saturday as I arrived home, she was boosting her wheelchair-bound 10 year-old son over a parking bumper and up the curb, since the local asshole parked his big Jeep in her reserved spot with the access ramp constantly. She was also carrying plastic bags of groceries and items were falling out. The open doors of her lift-equipped van were letting the downpour in. I parked and quickly ran over and offered to help. In moments I had her son under the hallway awning and groceries corralled while she locked up the van. All of us soaked, she stoically refused any further assistance once she had opened her door, and rushed inside without even a thank you, not that I really cared. She had more important things to worry herself with.

Monday morning as I looked up from the thump of reports falling into my inbox, Saleesha actually paused.

“Good mornin’, Wayne. I never thanked tuzla escort you for helpin’ me and Micah Saturday,” she said, looking at me sheepishly with those gorgeous eyes.

I played dumb. “Huh? Oh don’t worry about it.” I waved it off. “Didn’t know you lived so close.”

Her upper torso flesh quivered subtly beneath her dress, and I could practically hear her bra straps begging for mercy. I found myself fumbling for words, something that hadn’t happened in years. The conversation quickly stalled. “Let me know if ya’ll need a ride or somethin’,” I blurted out, looking at the dismal gray skies outside before starting to jot down my number on a notepad.

She scowled. “Look, just because my van isn’t brand new doesn’t mean…”

“Four wheel drive..” I interrupted “I mean, if it’s icy, you know. I got my redneck Wes’ Virginia moonshine truck, lotsa room in there for Micah’s chair an’ all.”

Spring was approaching, but the roads could still be nasty in the mornings. Judy got the Volvo in the divorce. I still had my rusty old Blazer, I hadn’t even changed to a Maryland license plate yet.

Saleesha actually smiled. “That’s your’s? You’re gonna need moonshine to get me in that junky thing!” she joked, walking away.

Later that day I made a phone call to a contact at another bank, one that made auto loans for the dealer that sold the Jeep of the seemingly jobless, selfish asshole that always parked in Saleesha’s spot. As I had guessed, he was way behind on payments, and they didn’t have his girlfriend’s address. Surprise, a few mornings later the Jeep was repossessed, the cops came when a ruckus was raised with the tow truck driver. It turned out the guy had outstanding warrants. We never saw him or the truck again, and Saleesha was able to use her space from then on.

2

Spring arrived and I stayed busy, and soon realized I had traded the gossip farm back home for another here at work. At 6’5″, I had gotten wind of the fact some of the women called me a ‘tall drink of water’ and the story of my divorce via my ex-wife’s infidelity, which I had only mentioned to a couple people, was common knowledge. A few women even seemed to be a little flirtatious, but I was nearly twenty years older than most, and a ‘boring old white guy’, or so I felt. While out among their desks, I did enjoy the tight skirts, pants, dark-skinned cleavage and occasional down blouse, it’s now called, views of their bras. The lingerie cradled breasts of all sizes, but sometimes not too well, as smaller, firm tits put no pressure on the cups, and the resulting gap sometimes allowed a beautiful brown nipple peek. I recalled the day’s images as I jerked off in bed at night, fantasizing about a few of the more friendly, shapely girls. Raised in a demographically white small farm town, this was a fun, new world for me, and a ‘safe’ one, in that I knew the flirtations were harmless, and none of the girls would really ‘go’ for me.

The weather warmed up, and one morning I approached the laundromat on my side of the complex. In the room and facing away from me was a heavy-set, very curvy African-American woman in flimsy red shorts, bent over, pulling clothes out of the dryer. Nearly as wide as the dryer was her inverted-heart shaped bubble butt. The backsides of her thighs were exposed and her shorts were thin and tight enough to reveal an expanse of quivering cellulite from her waist to above her knees. Instead of going inside, I stood, mesmerized, for several seconds and watched that big behind dance around. As she raised her head, I saw she had very short straight hair, brushed back simply on her head. It was Saleesha. There were washers and dryers in her building, but they must have been in use or out of order. I retreated, not wanting to embarrass her, as I was sure she didn’t want me to see her without a wig and not ‘put together’ as she was each day for work. Most men couldn’t care less how they look, with women of course things were different. My ex never even went outside without mascara and lipstick. A hurried back to my apartment to peek out the window and watch her walk back across the parking lot, but cars blocked my view.

All day the vision of Saleesha’s backside haunted me. For my entire younger life I had been conditioned to only sexually consider women with zero or minimal perceived physical flaws, and pursued my ex initially because her blonde looks were ‘approved of” by my father and male peers. While concentrating on my career, church, and being married with what was, at one time, a good sex life with a fairly horny wife, I simply hadn’t thought much about other women. I did love Judy, but she was always itching for more travel and adventure. Her sneaking around to trucker motels to screw our minister, and others, it was revealed in court, must have filled her need for escape and excitement.

The night of the seemingly innocuous laundry room encounter, I woke up in the wee hours with a rock hard dick, a frequent occurrence with no wife to screw. I grabbed pendik escort it and began to fantasize about certain women in the office, white, black, Asian, or Hispanic, when I suddenly remembered Saleesha. As I stroked I thought about how soft her flesh must feel to the touch, especially the dimpled mass of her rear end, and began to imagine my pelvis or face ensconced in it. In moments I was shooting jizz like a geyser all over my boxers and stomach. I didn’t even bother to clean up as I immediately worked on a second messy load, all while mentally replaying every encounter with her, good and indifferent, as well as various sex fantasies. It must have been the mysterious allure of the cellulite that fueled my excitement; I had seen plenty of big plump asses over the years and they never got me so horny. Most guys find the crepe cellulite surface unattractive, and I guess I really had just been following the crowd, but not any more. Even a boring guy like me can have a new fetish, even at forty. Later, I scolded myself for lusting after Saleesha, as it might cause a flirtation to creep into my conversations with her. I didn’t want to mislead her, since my motive was pure animal lust.

3

A week of routine days ensued, and early one morning I ran naked to the phone, sunrise boner flailing, just before getting in the shower. The battery in Saleesha’s van had died, so it was my rusty Blazer to the rescue, driving up onto the lawn and sidewalk to give her a jump. I had quickly hopped into a t-shirt, and a pair of cotton shorts with no boxers, and could feel my semi-deflated dick banging around inside them and even tenting the front a little as I hooked up the cables; I don’t know if Saleesha noticed or not. I had to remind myself that despite my newfound attraction to her, I was trying to be a friend; the last thing she needed was a middle-aged white guy from work hitting on her. The next day at the office I overheard that her battery had been dying frequently. I could tell it was an old one, and the wheelchair lift likely drained it quickly.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Saleesha, barely wrapped in a towel, with no makeup and her real hair pushed away from her face and dripping, yelled at me from the shadows of her apartment doorway the next Saturday morning. I had bought a heavy duty battery at the auto parts store and had just finished installing it in her van, with the help of co-conspirator Micah. He helped by producing the keys and holding tools. I had lifted him into the driver’s seat and on my signal, he started the van with a big grin. Later she called, perturbed, saying she wasn’t a charity case; I told her to pay me back whenever she could.

That same night about 6:30 I got a panicked call from her. She was embarrassed to ask, but she needed someone to watch her son while she went on a blind date with a man someone at her church had fixed her up with. Her mother was originally going to watch Micah, but didn’t feel well, and all her friends were busy.

I agreed and went over to her apartment, taking a couple books to read. “You look terrific!” I said when she opened the door in a red flower patterned dress. She had picked a straight-haired wig with black hair that fell to her shoulders. Giant hoop earrings swayed on either side of her beautiful face. I had to make myself avoid staring at the necklace resting in her soft brown cleavage, it was the most plunging neckline I had seen her wear yet.

“Stop your lyin’, Wayne,” she said dismissively.

“Not lyin’,” I shrugged.

“Mmm mmm,” she hummed sassily, then gave instructions to Micah about his medications and bedtime, and to listen to ‘Mister Wayne’.

A car paused in the parking lot and blew the horn, and she leaned down to kiss her son and I wished her a good time.

The evening was uneventful, aside from a trip across the parking lot to retrieve my tools to fix her constantly running toilet. Otherwise it was quiet, with Micah and I watching TV or playing Atari.

About 10 PM, Saleesha returned. Between the early hour and the expression on her face, I knew things didn’t go well.

“Where’s Micah?” she asked, relieved to be stepping out of her heels.

“Gettin’ a time out in the closet,” I replied.

“What?”

“Just jokin’, he’s asleep. I laid him out on his bed a half hour ago. You’ll have to put him in his jammies. Great kid. “

“Oh no, what happened?” she asked, shedding her purse and removing the large earrings. She had spied my toolbox on the floor.

“Micah and I fixed your toilet. He’s a good helper.” Now that she was satisfied her son and plumbing were okay, she seemed to want to vent.

“So how did it go?” I asked about her big date.

She didn’t reply, but grabbed the neck of a bottle of red wine out of a high kitchen cabinet, which she reached by stepping up a footstool, her feet and calves bare inside sheer black hose. During my sneaky looks at her, I realized her body seemed to have been squeezed into a foundation maltepe escort garment, I think they’re called, as her torso seemed more rigid and a bit condensed. She stepped down and took two Marvel comic book tumblers from the dish drainer. “One of the housekeepin’ staff broke all my crystal stemware,” she said sarcastically, kidding about the plastic glasses, then scowled. “That fool just wanted a waitress for tonight,” she began, angrily about her date, as we both sat down at the table. “It was a men’s ministry dinner at his church, and I spent the whole time with an apron on, servin’ them an’ washin’ dishes. Us women ate in the kitchen afterward. Damnedest first date I’ve been on,” she sighed. “Guess I’ll be single forever.” she took a gulp of her wine. “Not that I mind bein’ independent, but just to have a man pay some attention to me…once in a while.” She looked off into the distance, frowning, her shoulders slumping.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone right for you,” I said, trying to be supportive.

“Men just want skinny women.”

“Not all men,” I countered, trying to hide my lecherous grin.

“Was your wife thin?”

“Um, yeah, I guess, but…”

“See?” she snapped. “Did you chase any fat girls?”

“Not back then, you’re right, but I learned a lot since then, grown up, you could say.” I was trying to stay generic, platonic in my responses, and not just blurt out the fact that I wanted to fuck her. “Most men grow up eventually.”

“Mmm mmm,” she hummed skeptically. “So, now that you’re also chasin’ fat women, when you get one, you bring her around here, I wanna meet ‘er.”

She had quickly finished her wine, and advised me she needed to check on her son, which I took as my queue to leave. Saleesha then thanked me for babysitting on short notice and said I was sweet, looking into my eyes for a moment with those brown stunners of hers. she was probably smirking at my stupefied expression “Goodnight,” she said with a peculiar half smile.

Walking back to my apartment, I realized I had gotten too close. Saleesha needed a younger man, of any race, who would stick around. I didn’t want to lead her on, and I definitely wasn’t ready for any kind of commitment to any woman, after fifteen years of marriage. The next week I kept things at arm’s length at the office, pretending to be busier than I really was when she came by my desk, actually smiling a bit.

4

A further distraction arrived in the form of a blind date of my own. That Friday I had been fixed up with a friend of a coworker. Several of us met after work for dinner and drinks at Harbor Place on Baltimore’s waterfront. Greek-descended, expatriated New Yorker Courtney was very nice, if a bit loud. She was thirty-two, a petite, tan, cute brunette dental assistant, also divorced. The night went flirtatiously touchy and smoothly. She gave me a nice wet kiss goodbye, and we promised to call.

Late the next morning I did get a call, but not from her; it was Saleesha.

“How was your date?”

Sadly, me having an actual date was breaking news on the office gossip network.

“You get any? She carryin’ your child now?”

“No!” I said, laughing, “It was just dinner! In a crowd! Geez.”

“Well…are you busy? You need to come over here. My toilet is messed up again.”

“Okay, be there in a minute.”

I was a little worried I was becoming her personal plumber and almost felt like telling her to call the landlord, but I knew they were very slow and weren’t even around on weekends. Her apartment had two bathrooms, so it wasn’t like they had nowhere to go. But, I had nothing else to do, so over I went. I was thinking about which type of commode valve I would need from the hardware store when I tapped on her door.

“Come in Wayne! Chain the door behind you please,” she yelled from the back of the unexpectedly dark and quiet apartment as I stepped in, toolbox rattling. The noise from her son’s TV or video games was missing. “Back here.” She was summoning me to the rear bedroom, which had its own bathroom, not the one I fixed earlier. ‘Great, a new problem’, I grumbled to myself. The room was crowded with clothes racks of dresses and suits, and bookshelves of family portraits, paperbacks and about a dozen faceless white Styrofoam heads, all of which held different varieties of wigs. The bed was crisply made, but covered only in mismatched sheets.

The ceiling fan was spinning but its bulbs were off, and the window blinds were closed against the bright sun. By the humidity and shampoo smell I could tell someone had showered recently. Next I got the shock of my middle-aged life.

Saleesha appeared, smiling, her hair in a colorful towel above the natural beauty of her face, devoid of any makeup. The real surprise was that she was apparently naked beneath a thin, black, silky, short-sleeved robe. The gap in her cleavage was wider and not as deep, and her massive tits seemed somewhat deflated, lower and spread wider across her ribcage than their appearance when held captive inside a bra. The robe offered a detailed silhouette of the forward-facing, blueberry-sized nipples within. Their scattered, surrounding bumps revealed the expanse of her areolas. Her upper arm and breasts jolted and quivered wildy as she pulled the towel down from her damp hair. and tossed it over the back of the kitchen chair she used at her vanity.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

By Todayshiddenobsession February 3, 2023

Synopsis:

This story is FemDom cuckold tale based on inspiration I received from Ms. Tara, when I shared with her, another story regarding cuckold training called “Cuckold Clinic” by TomWard.

Ms. Tara is a real-life wife in a female led relationship. I met her through a blog site, and she has graciously allowed me to use her pen name in my story.

Thank You to both Ms. Tara and TomWard for this inspiration.

From the title I’m sure you can get the direction for this story but there are also areas that focus on the Mistress wives learning to take control and Academy staff.

This story is pure FANTASY!

Relationships in real life between people should always be consensual.

This is only my second attempt at erotic fiction. I will try to employ the constructive criticism of the commenters from my first story to make this one better.

Ch06 Pegging used to affirm a Mistresses dominance

After some time working on business things, Dianne looks at her watch and tells Ms. Tara the pegging class will begin in 20 minutes, and it will take them 10 minutes to get to the area where it is being held.

“Well, we should be going then I guess. Are you joining me Dianne?” Ms. Tara asks.

“Oh, I have a feeling I know what you are up to, my calculating boss. I would not miss this for anything.” Dianne replies.

Together they head off across campus to the pegging training area.

On the way they pass the dorm areas where the submissives and cuckolds stay.

Their accommodations are not fancy, fitting a servant’s status. Each male has a small room with a cot and desk. A light on the desk and one next to the bed, a small dresser to keep a towel, washcloth, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste in. There is no closet or room for clothes because they are kept naked for the entire period they are here. The bed is equipped with ropes and harnesses so the student can be bound into any position. A small shelf near the door has an assortment of anal plugs and dildo gags of various sizes. On the wall over the desk is a picture of his wife in sexy lingerie next to a naked black man with a large erection and his arm is wrapped around her like a family photo. On the desk is a tablet where he must record his experiences. His entries are always public knowledge to any training or management staff, and of course his Mistress wife. As always, a submissive has no expectations of privacy.

In some rooms, where the wife has requested her husband be crate trained, is a medium sized dog cage with a thin foam base for sleeping in instead of a cot.

The room is equipped with several cameras that record and also broadcast to security the males every moment in the room. Above each obvious camera is a sign that reads.’ A submissive male should have no expectation for privacy’ or ‘you must never hide anything from your wife.’

Every 4 rooms share a common toilet, washing sink and shower area.

On the other side of the hall are the more luxurious suites for the wives who are staying for a period of time during their training.

These rooms are equipped with king sized beds in a private bedroom. The bedroom contains a large closet with several sexy outfits. A large dresser across from the bed contains a bounty of sexy nighties, bras, panties, garters etc. Everything to make her feel sexy and impress a new lover.

A luxury bathroom with toilet, shower, bidet, large soaker bathtub, a large vanity and sink with gold fittings. In the plentiful drawers are lots of makeup, perfumes, cleansers, hair product, razors etc. Plus, all of the appliances for hair and skin care. Everything a woman could want to be ready for a sexy date with a well-hung man.

A living area is equipped with a large screen TV that not only gets all available public and pay channels but the camera feeds from every camera in the training and sub sleeping areas. There is even a special channel that has a personalized schedule showing where their husbands are, at all times. This allows a wife to check in and watch her husband’s training any time she wants. While watching her husband or entertaining a lover or other wives to compare femdom ideas, there are comfortable chairs and a love seat for cuddling a lover.

There is even a stocked bar and kitchenette for entertaining the man of her choice.

The ladies may also take advantage of the 24-hour room service.

The proximity of the men’s and ladies’ accommodation was no accident. It was decided that the male trainees, being able to hear their and other wives being fucked by random lovers was a good conditioning element to get them used to being cuckolded by their wives.

However, the largest difference between the men’s and women’s areas is the women are free to come and go 24 hr a day and bring anyone they want into their suites.

The male submissives, are restricted to the facility 24/7 until they graduate. They are bound, gagged and plugged every night, then maltepe escort locked into their rooms by the female security staff, unless they are being used by one of the Mistress’ or staff. Each male’s room has a transparent door, again, so no privacy is possible.

Ms. Tara and Dianne arrive at the ‘ass reaming room’ as it is known by the staff.

Inside they find, two instructors in fetish clothes setting up for the training. 6 vaulting benches with arm leg and back straps similar to the punishment rooms are spread across the room. In front of each is a floor to ceiling mirror with the top 3 feet angled down. This is designed so that the trainee has a full view of the woman who is fucking him in the ass as she wishes. It’s a mind fuck for the man being pegged, for him to look into the mirror and see a woman’s power at being the one in control while getting off on fucking him. Next to each station is a rack of various strap-on harnesses with assorted sized dildos. All within easy view of the submissive who is strapped to the bench.

When strapped into place each trainee can be totally immobilized except for their head which hangs freely off the bench. At the head end of the table is an assortment of gags, including dildo gags.

Near the rear of the bench are several paddles whips and tawse along with various sized butt plugs and bottles of lube.

There is a clothing rack for anyone who wants to get undressed to peg the trainees. It is a personal choice for each Mistress or trainer.

As Ms. Tara surveys the room, a group of 4 Mistress wives enter led by a third trainer. They are escorted to the viewing area where the Mistresses are seated in comfortable chairs. They are given direction on today’s class and their participation options. Some of them are here to see their husbands being pegged and others are here to see any action. A few are very eager to try their hand at fucking a man in the ass for their own pleasure.

As they sit, some curiously look around the room and others are eagerly listening to the direction being given by the instructors.

While the Mistresses are getting their instructions, from a different entrance, 12 subs are brought in by two instructors dressed in black lingerie. One with a riding crop that she uses to repeatedly hit trainees on the thighs and asses as they move. The other trainer holds the leashes attached to each trainee’s collar allowing them to be led to a wall which contain shackles for the hands and feet for each sub. Secured to the wall with legs spread wide and hands over their heads, wearing only their locked chastity and collar. The leashes are left attached and hang down in front.

One of the instructors already in the room approaches the subs and begins to give them direction for today’s training. Up to this point they do not know why they are here.

At this revelation some trainees are complacent, accepting that their wives want them to be trained for this, or they look forward to being ass fucked because they enjoy it. Some are struck with fear and plead with the instructors not to do this to them. They claim it must be a mistake, that their wives would never do this to them, but their wives have signed a release for every male in the pegging room. The subs are each shown the signed pegging release with their wife’s signature. Not because they need to prove anything to these submissive husbands, but to show them that with the stroke of a pen, their wives have full control over every facet of their new lives as servants and cuckolds. There are still a few angrily screaming that they can’t do this and demand to be let free.

One from this last group is Carol’s husband.

Dianne goes over to each and scans their collars for their ID., She turns to Ms. Tara and while grabbing a particular sub by his chastity cage, she shakes his penis and tells her,” this one is Carol’s cuckold.”

At this point, some of the Mistresses go and selects a trainee and one by one they are brought over by the leash and strapped to the benches. Then the Mistress who picked a trainee goes over to the restrained sub, leaning or crouching down she introduces herself to them as Mistress ‘x’ and she will be taking her pleasure with a strap-on in their ass. Some of the trainees who have been progressing in their training respond with “thank you Mistress for using me for your pleasure.” Some plead to be exempted from this. For those, it is usually some focused thrashing on their asses with a tawse or crop that bring them around to acceptance. Once they realize it is going to happen and the sooner they accept and thank the Mistress, the sooner it will be over.

The belligerent ones however are harder to convince.

Carol’s cuckold is a man like this. Even though he has promised his wife to change his misogynistic mind set, he is still confused about what that means and resists giving up a lifestyle pattern he has been raised in and has practiced his entire life.

When it becomes his manavgat escort turn, Ms. Tara approaches the instructor and tells her she will be taking him.

Ms. Tara likes to be comfortable and feel sexy while training a new submissive male. So, as he is brought to the bench and strapped down, she removes her outer clothing.

Under her business clothes is a sexy lingerie set suitable for a intimate rendezvous at short notice but easily concealed under her business attire. Her lingerie consists of a pastel blue ensemble with 1/2 cup laced demi bra holding her beautiful, creamy, 34D breasts. A matching pair of lacy low-cut panties with a transparent rear. A garter belt with matching lace hugs her waist as it holds up shear black stockings finishing out a look that is intended to make her feel sexy, and more than impress anyone else. She wears only the finest quality lingerie, to match her worthy dominant feminine personality.

After he is secured, she approaches his face, her crotch only inches from his head. If he raises his head, he will be able to smell her excitement at bringing this arrogant male down to size.

‘Look at me” she commands. His head remains still. She is holding a crop in her hand and as she tells him again in a sterner voice, she hits him on the ass forcefully. “I SAID LOOK AT ME CUCKOLD!” This time he squeals and looks up to see her beautiful, fragrant pussy staring him in the face.

“Do you know who I am cuckold?” Ms. Tara asks.

You’re the bitch who has this shitty place and the quack bitch doctors who polluted my wife’s mind.” He replies.

“You volunteered for this training. You signed the papers. You told your wife you wanted to treat her better and let her lead your marriage. Did you not say that?” Ms. Tara asks.

“Ya … but I thought she couldn’t do it and then I’d take back over.” Is his reply.

“So, you underestimated the skill and determination of the woman you have been abusing for years to climb out of the misogynistic bullshit you had her in. Now here you are, at my mercy, and I’m the woman who is going to fuck the bitch into you.”

“Didn’t you tell her you didn’t want to be like your father and treat your wife like your father did your mother? You told her you never wanted to treat her bad and be a misogynistic asshole. You told her and Dr. Clark you needed help to change.” Ms. Tara asks.

“Right, but I didn’t mean for her to send me here.” He says in a quivering voice.

“Well, you are here, and I am going to help you change from an being an asshole to a wonderful, supportive, obedient husband. I’m here to help you save your marriage.” Ms. Tara says.

“Ok, but why do you guys gotta fuck me like a bitch?” He asks.

“Because cuckold, you need to feel what it’s like to be treated like a bitch just as you treated your wife as your bitch. You need to understand that as your new Mistress, in your new marriage, she or any woman she decides can do to you whatever they want, and you will learn to thank her for it. Do you understand?”

“I am going to fuck you in the ass, until you figure out that you are no longer in charge. Your Mistress wife is in charge now. You must learn to obey, without hesitation, without question, and without attitude!”

“I promise you, once you learn the lessons, we are trying to teach you here, you and she will be a much happier couple and she will be able to treat you, and guide you, tenderly again. If you continue to be difficult and fight who you really want to be because of some false macho pride, well you will be a sore and miserable excuse for a man. Now here is what is going to happen. I am going to peg you with one of the strap-ons there,” Ms. Tara explains as she points to the wall of harnesses and dildos. “I’ll let you choose which one I use first Ok. But before I’m finished with you, I’m going to fuck you hard, with the dick of my choice cuckold.

“I don’t want any of them in my butt.” Is his quiet reply.”

“Well cuckold, if you don’t decide, I will, and you won’t like my first choice cuckold.”

“Why do you keep calling me cuckold?” He asks Ms. Tara

“Because your wife spent this afternoon fucking and loving one of the men we have here.” She takes her crop and lightly taps his ass several times as she continues, “One of the men, I might say, with a cock much larger than yours. She tells me he fucks much better than you do as well. That makes you officially HER CUCKOLD!”

“No, no no no! She wouldn’t. She’s my wife!”

“She is your Mistress now and you had better get used to that because after a woman fucks a man who can give her multiple orgasms and treats her like a queen to boot, she is not likely to ever let the man who abuses her back inside her wet pussy. That is unless she sees some great improvement in his attitude and acceptance of his new life as her cuckold, servant husband.”

“If I can tell her, you cooperated and accepted your fate by happily taking girl cock in your ass. She might şişli escort be willing to believe your story that you are trying to be a better man for her.”

“Ok, ok, the smaller one. The red one. You can peg me with the smaller red one.”

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Tara says with her hand to her ear, “I think you need to beg me to fuck you with the red dildo attached to a strap-on harness.”

“Ok, I want you to fuck me with the red dildo.”

“I don’t think I heard the magic word or you addressing me as the superior to you that I am. Try again.”

“Ms. Tara, would you please fuck me with the red dildo?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I like the red one, and where did you want me to put it?”

“Oh, God…why are you making me grovel? I feel so humiliated, and you’re making me beg to get fucked in my ass by you, a woman, in front of all these other women.”

“Humility is the first step to redemption cuckold.”

“Alright, alright, anything to get this over. Ms. Tara, would you PLEASE fuck me up my ass with whichever dildo that pleases you?”

“Well since you asked so nicely, yes I think I will fuck you with this one.”

She reaches over to the wall, her hand near the red dildo, then moves over and picks out a black dildo twice the size of the red one, about 18cm long with a bulbous head. Removing her panties and placing them onto the top of his head, then pulling up the harness over her sexy lingerie and tightening it, she inserts the black dildo into the harness and shakes it in front of his face.

“Like my big black girl cock, cuckold?” Ms. Tara asks him

” Why did you choose the black one” He asks

“Your wife told me today, she would like to try fucking a black man to see if it’s true, that black men with big hard cocks, fuck better than white guys with little cocks. I just thought you should experience a black cock to. You know, so you have something in common with your new Mistress.” Ms. Tara mocks.

“Now I think you should be a polite, obedient, submissive and get my girl cock lubed up. What do you think cuckold?”

“How can I do that my hands are tied and I don’t even know where any lube is?”

“Well, what do you have that’s available and wet?”

“Oh, no, I’m not sucking that thing. I’m no fairy gay boy!”

“That’s not a nice way to talk about gay men. They don’t like being called fairies.” Besides, no one said you were gay. Sucking my girl cock before it goes up your ass is to make it better for you. I guess if you would rather, I can ram it up your ass dry. I mean if that’s what you want.”

“No no, I’m sorry. Don’t fuck me with that thing dry. It will tear me apart.”

“Well, I’m not sure I understand your apology. Are you apologizing to me or to the gay men you insulted?”

“Oh geez, I apologize to all the gay men for referring to them as fairies. I apologize to you Ms. Tara for not understanding that you telling me to suck your black cock was for my benefit.”

“My BIG BLACK GIRL COCK.”

“Right, right your big black girl cock.”

“Well, if you want to suck my BIG BLACK GIRL COCK, you had better beg me and it had better sound sincere.”

Please, please, please, Ms. Tara, will you allow me to suck your big black girl cock before you put it inside my ass?”

“Well, if you insist cuckold.”

Ms. Tara then proceeds to push her black dildo right into his mouth until he begins to gag. She pushes in and out encouraging him to use his tongue and get it nice and wet. She continues to own his mouth with the black strap-on for several minutes as the other Mistresses and staff laugh and cheer him on with chants of ‘suck, suck, suck, suck. Suck that big black cock!’

Finally, she pulls the now wet and glistening black phallus out of his mouth. He looks it over and grimaces. ‘What would the guys think if they saw what just happened. A woman just fucked my mouth with a black rubber dick and I begged her to do it, just so it would go into my ass easier. What am I becoming?’ he thought.

By now all of this has made everyone in the room focus on Ms. Tara and Carol’s cuckold husband. Several of the Mistresses have their phones out shooting video or taking pictures. The rooms cameras have also recorded everything. But the fun has just begun.

Ms. Tara moves around behind him and realizes how wet this is making her. She will need to get off tonight when she has finished this.

When she gets behind him, she asks if he can see her in the mirror? She asks him if she looks good with the big black girl cock pointed at his exposed asshole. Again, he comes down another peg by telling her she is a beautiful woman who looks sexy with her beautiful lingerie and her big black girl cock ready to mount his ass. Whether he is saying this because he believes it, or just because he is defeated and wants to end this horror doesn’t really matter. He is saying it and that is important to the lesson.

She does not want to hurt him seriously. She knows ramming this dildo into him with only spit for lube would be wrong. So without him seeing she adds some extra lube to his saliva. She is thinking if she fucks him with a dildo this big into his virgin ass basically dry she will tear his asshole and that is not the goal. The goal is to have him understand his Mistress wife or any woman she assigns him to has the right to do whatever she wishes, and he has no right to refuse.

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Note: This chapter has a lot of less erotic stuff at the beginning. If you want to get straight to the point, start at the line near the middle. This is my first story, so please feel free to reach out to me with comments, critique, or ideas! I would really appreciate the advice.

Dear Olive,

It’s strange to be thinking of you after so long. I forced myself not to this past year. After everything that happened…

You know, you were my sun, and my north star. You were all I saw. Even my own thoughts, if I had any, were barely footnotes (excuse the pun) to what you chose to put inside my head and heart. Again and again, I thought you had broken me into the basest creature I could possibly become; and over and over, you pushed my mind beyond its natural limits, until I was in complete, delicious oblivion. But you know that, don’t you? You’re the one who made me what I am. You worked me like clay, pushing the limits of my material until I melted, in exquisite torture, into the form you forced on me. To this day your scent, so unique, comes to me in dreams, and even now I dissolve, helpless, into a cloud of ecstasy on first wind of it. Your touch is etched so deeply in my body’s memory, it can be triggered in an instant.

Look at me, here I am falling back into the mold you made for me. I don’t really even know why I’m writing. I guess to say a proper goodbye.

Forever, this time.

— Goldmund

***Two Years Ago***

We knocked on the door of the apartment down the street from campus. Finally, I would get to see one of the infamous parties of the Kudzu house. My college was in the middle of a small-ish town, and Kudzu lane was just one of hundreds of identical little residential side streets, two blocks from Farrar College.

Jesse, Kate and I had gotten up the courage to go together. It’s funny, even though we were seniors, four years in, we had never made it into any larger social group. Oh well, it’s never too late I guess. After a minute, the apartment door opened, and in a haze of smoke and electric blue lights stood Janell. She was thin and almost six feet, like me. She had brown hair down to the middle of her back, and big innocent eyes. Everybody in our class knew that, next week at graduation, she would be announced as valedictorian. And, just as expected, in the long fingers of her left hand she held a beer and a few flashcards with what looked like organic chemistry diagrams neatly drawn on them.

“Well? Get in here! We’re trying to hotbox the living room, so we need to keep the room sealed. Besides, we don’t want the neighbors calling the cops again, do we?”

Jesse and Kate almost hid behind me, so I took the initiative: “Good idea.”

We stepped into the party and shut the door. I tried to shout over the music to Janell “I didn’t know you partied!”, but she just smiled at me like I was a cute Golden Retriever, and strode back into the crowd on her long legs, smooth as a ballerina.

At least Kate and Jesse had my back. We had been best friends since first-year, and they knew almost everything there was to know about me. With one big exception, of course: we never talked about sex. They were like sisters to me (I always had a hard time making friends with other guys).

All the main rooms were separated only by walls with big, doorless entrances between them. We edged our way around the crowded room, into the next area. Here, everyone was standing around a stripper pole someone had set up from floor to ceiling. Over the next few minutes we watched a brave soul or two awkwardly try it out, but people were beginning to lose interest. I felt my heartbeat quicken. I turned to Jesse and Kate, and they knew what the look on my face meant: I was about to do something stupid.

Usually I was pretty shy, but sometimes in a rare moment I would be possessed by my darker, more adventurous side. I made my way to the front of the circle of people surrounding the pole, and before my rational side could hold me back, I stepped towards the pole and used my momentum to şişli escort grab it near the top and swing myself up. Before I knew what had happened, I was swirling down the pole with my legs splayed out in a V shape towards the ceiling, and my head tilted back. The roar of the blood rush in my ears merged with the music and the cheer of the crowd, and as I turned all I could see were the hazy lights and the anonymous, upside-down faces all around me.

Soon I reached the floor, stood up, and, dancing, lured another person into the center of attention so I could escape. The party had officially started. Jesse and Kate looked frozen in disbelief, then instantly burst into laughter. I left them to find some beers for us all in the kitchen, closed off to the side of the main area. As I grabbed three beers from the fridge, I felt someone’s eyes on me. Leaning on the kitchen sink was a girl I hadn’t seen at first. She was probably 5’6”, but she had this powerful, dark presence that made me feel like I might lose myself forever in her dark brown eyes. Her hair was chin-length, pinned into a spiky little bun on top of her head with two pieces hanging down either side of her slender face. She was tan, and wore a strapless dress that was a raven-purple, fitting her little waist like a glove. She had calf-length boots and black socks just peeking out above them. One foot was propped against the cabinet under the sink, the other jutted out.

“I saw you out there”, she said, taking one of the beers from my hand.

“Oh yeah?” I said, trying to sound indifferent. She gave me a look, like she knew I was full of shit. “What did you think?” I asked, trying to keep up the performance.

“Hmm…” She looked to the ceiling and put her hand on her chin, pretending to think. The two pieces of hair framing her face swayed when she turned her face up. My heart fluttered a bit. “You know, I think I could put you to better use.”

I must have looked confused, because she laughed at my reaction. It was like witchcraft, that laugh. So irresistible, like the glint of a creek in the sun… and yet, so much darker, too. Seductive, entrancing. “What, you’re wondering what that’s supposed to mean?” She asked.

“Well… yeah, I guess.” So much for staying cool.

Just then, the kitchen door opened, and Kate timidly popped her head in to check on me.

“Oh, shit! My bad.” I said, handing the two beers I was holding to Kate, who playfully stuck her tongue out at me and closed the door. I grabbed another from the fridge and leaned on the counter, facing the girl.

She stared silently, holding her beer against her bare knee.

After a pause, I said “Anyways, my name’s Goldmund.”

“Olive” she said, and somehow the name made her seem even more like a stranger. Fuck, where had I seen her before? She made me feel like I was in one of those vivid dreams I get on sleepless summer nights. Like I was approaching some odd and intense recognition. A kind of deja vu, but much stronger. I tried to shrug off the feeling.

“Nice to meet you. I guess I’ll see you around?” I said, as I opened the door to the kitchen. She just said “mhmm”, and put her beer to her lips.

I moved through the crowd until I found Kate and Jesse. Jesse was on her phone. Kate leaned in and yelled over the music “Who was that?”

“No idea!” I yelled back.

“Cute though, right?” She said, smiling mischievously.

“Actually, yeah” I said, looking back at the kitchen door. Suddenly, the door opened a crack, and Olive slipped out, sneaking around the crowd. Everyone was distracted by three or four field hockey girls skipping around the stripper pole like they were performing a fertility rite.

Only Kate, Jesse and I saw her open a door in the corner of the room. It looked like it went into a bedroom or bathroom. Before she shut it, she looked right at me and motioned for me to follow. Kate gave me a confused look. Jesse just shouted “Who was that?” I shrugged and moved towards the door.

When tuzla escort I opened the door, it was pitch black inside. I turned, and Kate looked at me with wide, worried eyes. The last thing I saw before I closed myself inside was Kate, looking almost afraid for me, mouth the word “don’t”.

I couldn’t see a thing, and when I tried to take a step, my foot never hit the floor. For a split second, terror shot through me. But Olive pushed me back before I fell. After my vertigo subsided, I exhaled loudly. “Holy fuck,” I whispered, “thanks.”

“It’s a staircase, dumbass” Olive said sweetly. We made our way down in total darkness, feeling our way along the walls. We walked for maybe twenty steps before I started getting confused. Wasn’t this just some little apartment? Why does the basement go so deep?

“Hey, do you live here?” I asked. “Where are we going?”

“Down,” she said. “And yes. Me, Janell, and a couple other girls. Don’t worry, though. They don’t come down here without my permission.”

Each answer only filled my head with more questions. Still going down, at some point the wooden stairs changed to stone, and the walls became smooth, cold marble. A damp mineral smell drifted up from the darkness below, and I felt my throat catch in a surge of unexpected anxiety. Olive must have sensed it, because she grabbed my hand and began leading me. Her hand was soft and warm, and her grip was oddly strong.

“We’re almost there,” Olive whispered.

“What is this place?” I breathed as we crept further and further down. The music from the party thumped softly, far above our heads now.

Olive laughed. “You sound a little scared. It’s just a house, it’s been in my family for generations.” She got quiet, as if she were choosing her words carefully. “I’m the last of my family, besides my sister, and I lease this place out to other students.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. Everybody dies eventually.”

I got quiet after that. After a couple more minutes the echo of Olive’s boots got more spacious, and she stopped. “We’re here,” she said.

The room was warm, and had a faint smell of flowers. Olive flipped a switch on the wall, and I was blinded by the light for a second.

It was… just a bedroom. A persian carpet in the middle of the floor, a large bed in the corner, and a couch on the side. The walls were bare, a side from a couple candelabras that looked antique.

* * * * *

She fixed me with that gaze of hers and led me into the room. She pushed me onto the couch, raised her leg, and put her boot up beside me. She looked down with a domineering glare, but my eyes were drawn to her thigh, following it up her dress to a pair of sheer, black panties.

“Olive… I don’t…” I said, looking back up at her.

“That’s right.” She said it in such a sweet voice, I felt myself relax a little. “You don’t. Don’t decide anything. I’ll do that for you.” She pulled a couple pins out of her bun and let her hair fall.

“Unzip my boot,” she said, her dark eyes glittering.

How did she know? I decided it wasn’t important. I pulled the zipper down, and tugged her boot off. She didn’t put her socked foot back down, but balanced perfectly on her other foot, pushed my chest back into the couch with her black sock, and slowly, slowly planted it sideways across my mouth…

It was damp with her sweat and my dick swelled in my pants. Her smell… It was clean, but musky. I looked up to her slender face as she stood over me. Her hair brushed her cheek, and fluttered a bit with each breath she took. Somehow, the smell of her sock just fit her perfectly — so unique, beautiful, with the hint of a darkness buried deep inside her.

It felt like breathing oxygen for the first time. She gently rubbed her socked foot back and forth across my mouth, while I took sharp breaths that filled my lungs with her animal essence. She took her sock away, and put her other boot on the couch.

“Do I need to say it?” asked Olive, pendik escort her voice coming out slow and thick. I unzipped it, pulled it off, and let it fall to the floor. Again, she perched on her leg and swung the other in front of me. Despite her average height, she seemed to tower over me as she spread her toes and lowered them towards my nose. I was wide-eyed, moving my face forward to meet her sock like a dying man craning his neck for water.

“Ohh. Poor baby is hooked” she teased, and pushed my head back into the cushion with her foot. The pressure made sure every particle of air I breathed had to flow through the thin, moist fabric of her sock and between her warm toes. The smell was more intense, and I shuddered in an overflow of desire. It was like a dark nebula in space, that was shocked through with vast, distant pulses of primordial life. The seeds of whole galaxies seemed to flit through my nearly delirious mind every time she shifted her toes even slightly. I looked up Olive’s dress at her sheer panties, and noticed a dampness seeping out from her veiled little slit. I looked up at her, my eyes overflowing with emotions I had never felt before. She was breathing heavier too, and a seductive haze had clouded her usually sharp eye. Only one thing came to mind: we were intoxicated, fully and totally.

“Close your eyes,” Olive whispered between breaths. I did. I felt her take her sock off of my face. A little whimper escaped me involuntarily as I waited for her to do something to me. She tied a piece of fabric around my eyes and pulled my pants and underwear down. I heard her slip out of her dress and pad back to me. She sat on my lap facing me, and I felt her soft silk panties push down my straining cock. They were soaked and hot. She pushed me down so we were lying on the couch.

“Open.” She said, rubbing up on my dick.

“Wha–?” I started to ask, when she stuffed her sock into my mouth.

Oh, god, the taste of her delicate, elegant filth flooded my mouth. I pushed my tongue back and forth across the toe of her sock, milking her sweat out from between every last stitch. I felt it drip down my throat, mixed with my saliva. After tasting her nectar, I knew no other drink would ever satisfy me again. Olive, I thought, as she wet my dick with her juices, I will never stop being thirsty for your musk.

Olive pulled her panties off quickly and pinned herself onto my dick. With one hand, she held her other sock to my mouth, and with the other she clutched my hand. She pumped herself over me, and we panted in the same rhythm. I let out muffled moans from behind her socks, and took in her scent with every gasp of air.

I felt her lower her face to mine, and moan just above me. She arched her back, and her belly and small breasts pressed against me. I felt her labia tremble around my cock, and her body began to shake. I felt myself rise close to climax with her, and at the height of it she pulled her sock from my nose, put her warm lips to mine, and stuck her tongue into the crumpled sock lodged in my mouth. She licked my tongue through the sweaty mesh of her own sock, thrust her pussy straight down to the base of my cock in two or three powerful jerks, then held me deep inside her as she yelped and trembled in ecstasy. I unspooled my load in coils up into her hot little chamber, wrapped my arms around her little waist and dug my fingers into the dimples in her lower back.

She collapsed onto me, both hands on my shoulders. Her hair smelled sweet, and tickled my face. She let my dick go soft before she pulled me out of her. She pulled her sock out of my mouth, undid my blindfold, and laid back onto my chest.

I looked up to the ceiling while Olive’s chest rose and fell on top of mine. Once we were back in our right minds, she said, “Now you know what higher purpose I had in store for you.” She was sly as a fox and nimble as a cat. I felt my chest swell with feeling towards her, and it made me close my arms tighter around her. “Fuck.” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “Olive…”

But Olive squirmed out of my arms and sat up, putting her socks back on. “We better get back to the party. They’ll be missing us, I’m sure. By the way,” she said, side-eyeing me, “Do you know how my sock got so wet? It’ll take the rest of the night for it to dry, stuck in my boot like this.” She smiled and laughed as she stepped back into her dress.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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It was a rainy fall night. The water wasn’t coming down to hard but it was freezing at night compared to the warm days of the month. The rain slacker he had worn was hardly keeping the cutting cold air off his skin while he rode through the night. The windows on his truck were permanently open, that tends to happen when someone steals them out of your dorms to use with an art project. Then again, his sister was a crazy person. The wind rushed in pulling the rain with it. He had to find a place to stay warm. A grown in his stomach helped guide him to his destination.

A cute little dive called “The East Corner” shown on the dark highway ahead. Even from here it looked like a cozy all night dinner although there wasn’t a single car in the customer parking lot and only one sticking out from employee section. Still, a warm place with nice food was an attractive proposition. He turned the truck off the highway and into a parking space just by the front door. He pulled his color up over his neck and rushed from his truck as soon and he could lock and slam the door shut behind him. As he ran to the front door he came to a sudden surprise as he tried to pull the door open and it held shut. He pulled again and all he found was that he wasn’t getting in and was getting more and more soaked.

He panicked for a second not sure if he should knock or if he should just return to the truck and maybe find another place to settle down for an hour or two before he spotted someone inside. Through the rain soaked door he couldn’t see her all too well; a large figure wearing a blue uniform, but that was all. He knocked a few times before she turned toward the door and started walking toward it. A click later and the door was being pushed outward towards him. He took a step back before he turned and took a good look at the woman who answered the door.

She was a beautiful full formed gal, with lush tanned skin and long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her figure was large, quite round under her blue uniform shirt and down to lower calf skirt. Her smile was nice and wide, although her eyes had a sense of being apologetic in them. For a big girl out in the middle of nowhere, she was quite gorgeous.

“Oh my, sorry dreary! Debora must have locked it on her way out and you’re the first customer since she went off shift,” She said in a slightly deep female voice as she lead me inside. The place inside was just as nice outside. Lots of booths lined the side wall and a few round tables sat just off the bar. I took a seat at the counter however. No one else here so might as well sit near the T.V.

“That’s alright,” I said, sliding onto the stool as the waitress went behind the counter. “I’m no witch so I won’t melt with the water.”

She giggled for a bit before handing me a menu.

“So dear, what can I get you to drink?”

I glanced on the back of the quickly photocopied menu and picked a hot fresh tea. She quickly brought me a steaming cup of water and a tea bag.

“I’ll be right back Hun. Gotta go see if George got the stove on. See if he can get your grub fast. Meanwhile, you take the time to spot what you’d like alright?”

“Sure thing, I will be hear.” She winked and then headed to the back of the building. While she was off I did as she suggested, looking through some appealing food items such as a fresh omelets or hamburger while ignoring some fresh things that made me grown such as cold foods such as sandwiches. By the time she came back I voted on a fresh double chicken burger with some fresh fries, a meal affectionately called the “Big Bird”.

“Alrighty there sweetie, George is all ah ready to get’cha what you need. So, what’ll you have?” She had a big sweet grin on as she came out. She looked very beautiful on this cold night and her smile looked very inviting. “Honey? You alright? Have I got something on my face?”

I caught myself then, guess I must have been staring for a moment.

“Oh yeah, I’ll have the big bird, no tomatoes though thanks.”

“Sure thing,” she said, “Fries or chips? I’d recommend the fries myself, but I’m biased as I cut the current batch myself.”

“Fries then.”

She jotted down my request then huge it on the dial behind the counter and it was pulled back to the kitchen.

“Alright sweet. So what are you doing on our lonely stretch of road at this time of night? That pick-up doesn’t look like a trucker hauler so I’m guessing you’re not one of them.”

“Nah, just traveling the highways before heading off to a new job out in Maine.”

“Oh really? Maine? That’s a bit far away. Why by truck?”

“Ah that’s just the truck I need for the job. Don’t want to buy a brand new one. Can’t afford that.”

She smiled at that, “Yeah, I hear you on that. This business isn’t well paying either. So what are you heading out there to do?”

The night worked on as the half hour of waiting for my food ticked by. I found her name was Susie, and she was a local girl who had worked here at “The East Corner” for about five years since she was 25. She’d had two kids too, but lost gümüşhane escort one at birth and the other lived with her ex way out in Florida. In all she was a sweet gal. I told her a bit about myself as well. As I was heading from Arizona to Maine to start new work in construction for my brother out there, and about how driving so far has been a lot of fun, save of course the recent stormy night.

By the time my food came, the place had filled a bit more, and Susie had to take care of a few more customers but eventually things settled down and Susie returned to me. Guess I was more interesting than her regulars.

“So what are you doing later?”

“Pardon?” I asked.

“You know, what are you doing after you head out of here? You’ve been driving all night and that windowless truck isn’t going to let you drive much more today. The Television just said that the storm was gonna get worse.”

I thought for a few. “Well, damn. That’s going to put me back a day. Well, any good motels or hotels around here?”

She nodded.

“Sure thing Hun. Heck I’ll even point it out to you if you’d like. Gonna get off my shift in about five and if you don’t mind could use a ride.”

“Nah nah, I don’t mind. Although you’ll have to deal with a wet seat.”

“Heh, that’s okay Hun. Your truck seat will just have to deal with a greasy butt. After all, this is a diner.” She turned her waist slightly pulling her rear end a bit forward and giving it a good slap. It was a nice large booty and jiggled a bit under the skirt. It did have some nasty grease over the skirt but it was nothing worse than what had been placed on the seat before.

“Okay, well let me go take care of the bill and then clear off that seat for you.”

“Sure dear. Let me get that check for you.”

She returned with the check and I dropped a few bills before heading out to the truck. The seats where soaking wet and so were the bag I had placed on the right seat. I grabbed it and tossed it behind the seats and pulled a towel from the floor bed. It was already a bit damp but enough to dry the seat slightly. By the time I was done and had climbed in to key the engine, I heard someone reach into and unlock the right door and as I turned I spotted Susie climbing in. She was a little cramped in the truck but she found some comfort.

“Well, we heading to the motel first or do I drop you off and you’ll give me the directions?”

“Well, the two places are right next to each other, so it’s not a problem. Take a right up here.”

It took us a few minutes to head to the place until we were finally on the road with her place and the motel on it, only I didn’t see a motel.

“So where’s the place? Is it behind those trees there? Oh is that your place there?”

“Yeah that’s my place, pull on in.”

“Okay.”

As I pulled into her drive way and she climbed out the truck, I was getting a bit confused as she hadn’t mentioned where the motel was. Already the skies had turned from a pitch black to a slightly illuminated purple, indicating the sun was coming up. I called to her as she stepped out and she pressed herself against the side of the truck with the pouring rain coming down around her matted her hair to the sides of her head. Her uniform was now a deep purple with being soaked from the rain coming in from the drive and it was a little easier imagining the edges of her hefty breasts as she pressed them against the side of the door.

“Yeah Hun?”

“Uh, where’s the motel?” I asked confused.

She giggled at this and replied, “Don’t be silly sweetie. I’m not gonna let someone as kind as you is pay for a motel room. Come on in.” With that she slide off the side the vehicle and walked toward the door. I was a bit shocked by the turn of events but I thought sleeping on a couch in a stranger’s house might be better than forking over a couple of dollars at a motel for a half rated room. I pulled the key out of the ignition and headed to her front door after her.

Her place was a little small compared to how it looked on the outside. The front door lead straight into the kitchen dining room which was over stuffed with old boxes full of who knows what and afterwards was the living room which was small with the dresser, TV stand, and sofa cramping the space. Afterwards I saw the slightly illuminated tiles of a bathroom afterwards. I noticed however, there was no bedroom, just another door that I could spot a washing machine through.

“You need a towel Eric?” She called from the bathroom.

“Sure,” I said. I guess it would be nice for me to dry off a bit before sitting down. She came back out the bathroom while rubbing her hair dry with one towel and holding another one out for me to take. I followed suit with her in drying my hair blinding myself for a minute. As I pulled the towel away from my eyes I noticed something rather interesting catch my eye. Susie had finished drying her hair and was in the process of pulling off the top of her uniform. As the wet cloth peeled hatay escort off the skin, the shirt pulled the soaked sports bra she wore with it, her two breasts plopped out and jumped up and down before me. She had a nice round belly and her two nice melons fit perfectly over her cute pierced belly button. I stared shocked as she continued to not care at me watching her as she kicked off her work shoes then took hold of her skirt and unzipped the back of it. Her legs were plump and full but I could still make out the green underwear she wore over her nice pale skin. As she turned away from me and walked into the room with the washer, I received a good view of her ass as the panties were pulled into her ass crack. While she walked she pulled the panties out of her soft ass crack.

I kind of shock my head a bit as I heard the water from the washing machine kick on. I started to dry my face again before I heard her come back in.

“So? You gonna rip off those cloths so I can toss them in the wash or you gonna sit around soaking wet?”

I looked up at her. She had pulled on a white cotton robe over herself. She looked nice with her hair matted down and the great cleavage she was showing. I didn’t notice she had the type of breasts that shoved against one another and wearing that robe really exposed that fact.

“Oh uh yeah sure.” I pulled off my shirt. I wasn’t exactly well built myself. I had slight man boobs and large love handles but it didn’t matter much to me. I handed her the shirt in her exposed hand and she waited patiently for me to hand more. “Uh, I kind of don’t have any boxers on.”

“That’s okay Sweet. Just here,” She said as she handed me a large old beach towel. I unbuckled my belt and dropped the pants quickly as I wrapped a towel around my crotch. It wasn’t that I had anything to hide I just didn’t always feel like exposing myself. Not that my 6″ was a problem, although some have said my bag is rather large. I handed her the jeans and the socks that followed. She took them and threw them in the wash and closed the lid behind her. When she came back in, she tossed the pillows off the couch and then pulled out a folding bed from in it. She then climbed onto the bed and pulled the pillows back on then grabbed a set of covers from behind the couch’s bed board.

“So, where do I sleep?” I asked.

She giggled, “Don’t be silly and get in here with me.” She clicked on the TV and I shrugged to myself as I tightened the tuck-in on the towel before climbing in next to her.

We sat and watched some morning kid’s show but it wasn’t before long before I felt a hand slide down the covers next to my side. Soon, I felt a slight weight on my leg over the towel. In a moment the hand slipped into the towel and around my balls which had already swelled slightly from seeing her breasts and ass earlier. Her hand was soft, yet firm as she put a slight pressure in her grip as she massaged my testicles. Eventually her hands slipped away from my enlarged sac and around the base of my shaft. She moved slowly up and down the beam, but avoiding the head. Her hands moved with the sounds from the T.V., dancing with every word and song that came on. It was enough to excite me but not enough to climb to orgasm.

As the minutes passed in silence, I felt the weight of the bed shift as she moved from her resting position and pulled away the towel around my waist. Soon I found both her hands at my crotch; one wrapped around my shaft the other massaging my balls. Then the weight shifted again and I felt hair around the skin of my dick and then the warm breath on my head. The tongue that slipped down my urethral slit knew its work and danced around the head both across and at the base of it. Soon I found myself deep in her mouth, her lips touching the base of my shaft and my cock feeling the pressure of the back of her throat. As her mouth moved up and down my member I hardly noticed the fingernail slide down my chode until it poked my anus. The finger slipped in a little as she played with my prostate with the edge of her fingernails, teasing me enough to bring me to climax. I wasn’t sure how much I produced as I was a chronic masturbator these days, but however amount I did she swallowed as she had swallowed the head of my dick. She sucked for a bit more while massaging my balls working her tongue up repeatly from the base of my cock to the end of my urethra getting as much semen as she could from me. As she pulled herself off me I got a good look at her grinning face as a thread of semen still clinged between her lips and the head of my penis. She dapped it with her finger and slowly licked her finger greedily as she smiled at me.

“Feeling better?” She asked as she shifted her weight back up to lying next to me. As she did so, she untied her robe. Either the robe had shrunk or, more than likely her breasts had become larger because she was aroused because as soon as she had untied it and laid down on her side, the left breast plopped right out. Her nipple was huge, standing an inch and ısparta escort a half off her body with an aurora of about four inches. While she lay down, she leaned her head down and took a bite around her nipple, pulling the enlarged breast along with her. I watched her with excited eyes as she licked her breast before my eyes started down her body a bit. The right side of the robe hide most of her body but her large hips pulled it up a bit at her waist and it was easy to get a good view of her red haired bush. It was a thick mess of hair and I couldn’t see anything beneath it, but I imagined soon I would.

“Much better actually. Enough to share the love.” I slide my left hand over her belly and under her robe to her back as I slipped my right over her exposed breast. I pulled her towards me with my left hand until her belly was pressed against mine and I could feel the edges of her pubs push against my enlarging head. I took hold of her right nipple between my fingers and pinched it between my fingers. I then moved my lips around her neck and bit into it slightly. Her skin tasted of rain water and sweat. As she moaned from the pleasurable pain, I used my left hand to pull her robe back. I couldn’t see what I was doing but I soon found hold of her ass. I rubbed the check gently while continuing to nibble her neck and begun to rub her left breast with my hand. As I did this I then pulled my hand to her bush and begun to rub it around until I found the top of her clitoris bulb. She started to moan as I pressed her button. Stopping my massage for a minute, I took hold of my cock and begun to massage the end of my head onto her clit, using the moisture and pressure from my hardened dick to excite her more. She was becoming more and more excited but somehow I knew her orgasm was far off. I began to nibble on her right nipple while pulling more and more violently on the left. I resumed massaging her clit with just my fingers for a few more minutes and again her excitement rose but not enough.

Soon after I found myself bored of this position and I then moved myself to an upright position. I took hold of her legs and pulled them up to my shoulder, with one knee on either side of my neck resting on the bottom of my shoulder blades. I pushed back the damp bush of hair over her crotch exposing her plump and inflated pussy lips. She had some slight brush burns here but I dared go where other had gone before. She had no smell save the smell of sweat from her legs and layers and when I begun to lick around her pussy lips I found she hate little to no taste. I used my right hand to continue to dance around her clit while using my tongue to slip further and further inside her lower lips. Her pussy tried to grab my slick tongue as hard as it could as I tried to reach deeper and deeper into her. It was a bit too hard with her thigh being so large, so I did the next best thing and slide a finger into the top of her shaft. It took me a minute but I soon found her spot and she started to moan louder and faster and louder and faster until she screamed in orgasm.

Her juices flowed freely as I tried to drink her up with my tongue. She took a minute or two to dry somewhat and before she fully did, she took hold of my hair and pulled me out from under her. Soon I found myself lying on top of her with my arms wrapped around her grabbing hold of two flabs on her back and kissing her neck deeply. She avoided it every time I tried to kiss her lips but she seemed to enjoy kissing each other’s neck and chest. Soon I found myself having my dick jerked off again, allowing it to become nearly completely hard. In exchange I started to massage her pussy again and soon she was comfortable enough to take my dick and slid it inside her. Soon I found myself on my knees with her legs loosely wrapped around my waist. I began to thrust into her as she began to grind my cock inside her. She was easy to stay inside of and the only reason I slipped my hand down was to begin playing with her clit as I fucked her. We begun to move faster and faster until she suddenly slowed down extremely fast.

“Some… thing… wrong?” I asked as I was reaching my halfway point.

“Not inside… there… Let me flip… Over.” She then unlocked her grip on my waist with her legs and slide off my dick. My member felt cold without the warm embrace of her twat. I masturbated for a moment as she flipped herself over, sticking her ass in the air at me. “I don’t want to risk another kid. But you need a hole to plug, so,” she then got up on her knees and pulled her ass checks apart. Her anus looked open and welcoming over her juicy pussy lips below. “Take a shot in there. I don’t mind too…” Before she could finish those words I poked my cock head into her ass. It wasn’t too tight of a fit at first but then she clutched slightly. She eased off a bit as I slipped in more and more, expanding her asshole. When it felt comfortable enough and I was sure she was, I began to push and pull, regaining the momentum I had before she expressed her no pussy cumming wishes. Deep sounds of squishing came from her rear as the juices from her pussy that had enveloped my penis now allowed me to move back and forth in her ass. Obviously Susie loved ass sex because soon before I had even picked up plenty of speed, she orgasmed, dripping a bit down her legs. “Finish… it” She screamed as she orgasmed. I pushed harder and faster until I reached my own orgasm and unloaded inside her.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Note: this story involves cheating and cuckolding.

Later that week, Chloe was sitting in her biology class, wearing a white blouse with enough buttons undone to show off a hot pink bra and plenty of cleavage and a short skirt that stopped mid-thigh. As she scanned the room, she spotted Steve. He had a hot surfer look, with wavy blond hair and a slim but toned build. She made eye contact with him from across the room. He smiled at her, and she uncrossed her legs, giving him a clear view up her skirt. She saw him staring at her pink panties and grinning, then licking his lips. She smiled back at him mischievously, then made a little kissy face.

After class, she approached Steve and said hi. He eyed her up and down, obviously looking down her shirt, and they made a little small talk. “So what are you up to tonight?” Chloe asked him.

He smiled confidently. “Well, for you, I can clear my schedule.”

She smiled, then started putting into place her plan for how she would not just cheat on Noah, but cheat on him in a way that would out-do Emily. “Oh good,” she said “But here’s the problem. I kind of promised my boyfriend I’d have a movie night with him.”

“Your boyfriend?” Steve asked. He was clearly a little surprised, but then he smirked and said, “I’m guessing he wouldn’t like the little show you gave me earlier?”

“Probably not,” Chloe said with a giggle. “But, well, he’s not exactly giving me what I need, you know? So I don’t really feel bad.”

Steve grinned. “That’s a shame. I would never leave a girl like you unsatisfied.”

“Mmm, that’s what I figured,” Chloe said. “So, um, listen, I can’t cancel on my movie night with him, or he’ll get suspicious. But I really can’t put up with another night of bad sex with him, so, like, maybe you could come over and hang out with us? And we could, like, sneak off to have some fun together?”

Steve laughed. “Isn’t that kind of risky?”

Chloe bit her lower lip sexily. “Well, that’s part of the fun.”

He smirked, eyeing her up and down, clearly interested. “Your boyfriend’s not gonna get suspicious when you invite another guy over?”

“Well,” Chloe said, “he probably would, but I think I’ve got a solution. I can just tell him you’re my gay best friend. Then he’ll assume you’re not a threat, and we can even, like, cuddle and flirt and stuff right in front of him.”

He laughed again. “That’s…creative. But I guess that dumbass can think whatever he wants as long as you end up taking my dick tonight.”

Chloe smiled up at him. “Then it’s a date.”

***

That evening, Noah came over to Chloe’s place for their weekly movie night. Chloe was wearing a tight pair of pajama shorts and a thin white cotton tank top. Her nipples were jutting through the material. Noah smiled and hugged her.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “I brought popcorn!” He came in and walked to the microwave to start popping it.

“Oh, thanks, baby,” Chloe said. “Listen, I forgot to tell you something. I hope it’s okay, but I invited my gay best friend Steve over to watch the movie with us.”

Noah turned to her, surprised. “I’ve never heard about any gay best friend of yours,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you about him,” Chloe said. “We met in my bio class and started studying together. He’s so much fun. I, uh, told him a lot about you, and I thought it would be nice to invite him over to finally meet you?”

“Oh…okay, I guess that’s fine,” Noah said. “When’s he coming?”

“Um, like, ten minutes or so,” Chloe said.

“Oh, soon,” Noah said. “So, uh, I guess you should go get changed?”

Chloe looked at him, acting confused. “Honey, he’s, like, totally gay, he doesn’t even notice stuff like this.”

Noah eyed her up and down. “Um, are you sure?”

“Yes, duh,” Chloe said. “Besides, don’t you like it when I dress like this?”

“Uh, well, yeah, of course, you look amazing,” Noah said.

Not that it gets you hard, Chloe thought to herself.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Oh, he must be early,” Chloe said, then pranced over to answer it. She opened the door and saw Steve in a pair of shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt. “Hey, Steve, come on in!” Chloe greeted him. Steve’s jaw dropped open when he saw what she was wearing. He eyed her up and down greedily, then stepped inside and hugged her, lifting her up in the air for a few seconds.

Noah watched awkwardly from the kitchen as they greeted each other, then they walked over to him as he poured popcorn into a bowl. “Hi, cutie, I’m Steve,” Steve said to him with a smile.

Chloe giggled to herself at the way Steve was acting gay, eyeing Noah up and down.

Noah izmir escort was actually smiling and blushing a little. “Uh, um, hi, Steve, I’m Noah. Nice to meet you.”

Steve turned to Chloe. “Wow, I am so jealous, Chloe. You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was such a cute little twink.” He smiled and winked at Noah.

Chloe laughed and gave Steve’s arm a playful slap. “Hands off, he’s mine,” she said.

Noah was still blushing. “Um, thanks, Steve,” he said awkwardly.

They chatted together for a couple minutes while the popcorn was in the microwave, then Chloe led Steve to the couch and they plopped down on it. Steve immediately wrapped his arm around Chloe’s shoulders and she cuddled up against him. When Noah brought the popcorn over and put it on the coffee table, he noticed this and said, “Uh, you two look comfy.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh baby, you’re not, like, jealous, right? Steve’s like a girlfriend, we just like to cuddle.”

“Oh…um, okay,” Noah said reluctantly. “So, we’re ready to watch the movie?”

“Would you mind turning the lights off, cutie?” Steve asked. “And, um, I’m kind of cold, do you have a blanket?”

“Good idea,” Chloe said.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Noah said. He turned the lights off and brought a blanket over to Steve.

“What a gentleman,” Steve said. Noah just blushed and smiled again, then sat down on the other end of the couch. Steve and Chloe wrapped themselves up in the blanket and continued to cuddle. “I’m ready, you can press play, babe,” Steve told Noah with a grin as Chloe rested her head on his chest.

Noah pressed play and they began watching the movie. Chloe and Steve made sure to keep themselves covered in the blanket, so that Chloe could slowly rub her hand up and down Steve’s muscular abs and chest, first over his shirt, and then, when she saw that Noah hadn’t noticed anything, under his shirt. Her fingers slid along his smooth, toned body. Steve’s hands, meanwhile, rubbed Chloe’s smooth thighs, grabbed her ass, then reached up and started playing with her tits.

Their hands were moving around under the blanket quite a bit, so Chloe kept watching Noah out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed completely caught up in the movie. Chloe and Steve looked at each other, suppressing their laughter, as Chloe took Steve’s hand and brought it between her legs. He began rubbing her pussy, first over her shorts, then sliding inside them.

By thirty minutes into the movie, Steve was sliding two fingers in and out of Chloe’s wet pussy. Her breathing was getting heavier, but she just turned the sound up on the TV, and Noah still didn’t seem to notice anything. She turned and looked into Steve’s eyes as he fingered her, and soon she was gripping his knee firmly, leaning her head into his chest and biting her lip. She tried not to make a sound as an orgasm rippled through her body, but couldn’t help but let out a little whimpering squeal.

“Um, you okay, baby?” Noah asked, glancing over at them.

Chloe brought her head up, trying to act casual, her forehead glistening with sweat. “Uh, yeah, sweetie,” she said, breathing heavily. “Steve just gave me a little pinch, he’s always doing that.” She gave Steve a playful nudge.

“Sorry,” Steve said to Noah. “Just playing around. Enjoying the movie, cutie?”

Noah looked at them. Chloe hoped he couldn’t tell that she had just had an orgasm. “Um, yeah, it’s pretty good,” he said softly, then turned back to the TV.

As she caught her breath, Steve and Chloe smiled at each other. Now Steve took her hand and brought it to his crotch, where she could feel his firm bulge. She started slowly, quietly unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts, then reached into his boxers and wrapped her hand around a thick, 7-inch erection. Slowly, she brought her hand out from under the blanket, looked over at Noah to make sure he wasn’t watching, then licked her hand and brought it back under the blanket, wrapping it back around Steve’s dick.

Chloe was so turned on as she watched Steve glancing over at Noah and smirking while she stroked him. It was such a thrill to stroke another guy’s dick right next to her completely oblivious boyfriend.

The two of them spent the next half hour or so playing with each other under the blanket. Then Chloe noticed that Noah was starting to nod off. She was surprised that he was falling asleep, since he had chosen the movie and his eyes had been glued to the TV pretty much the whole time. But a few minutes later, his head fell back against the couch, his eyes were firmly shut, and he even began to snore a little.

Chloe and Steve looked at each other. kahramanmaraş escort “Um…Noah?” Chloe said softly. Noah kept snoring. Then, a little louder, she said, “Noah? You awake?”

No response.

Chloe looked back at Steve. Under the blanket, his hand was under her tank top, squeezing one of her tits. She leaned into him and they began making out.

Chloe moaned a little as Steve kissed her, then she glanced back at Noah to make sure he was still sleeping. She turned back to Steve and whispered, “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Steve laughed and tossed the blanket off of them, revealing his erection pointing straight in the air. “No way, slut,” he said quietly. “I’m gonna fuck you right here while he’s sleeping. Get your shorts off.”

She stared at his thick tool for a couple of seconds, then obediently began wiggling out of her shorts and panties. “Oh my god, what if he wakes up?” she half-heartedly objected.

“I don’t give a shit,” Steve said. He stood in front of her, dropped his own shorts and boxers to the floor, then pulled his shirt off. She gazed at his naked body in awe. As she glanced over at Noah to make sure he was still asleep, Steve kneeled down between her legs and started eating her out. Chloe bit her lip to keep herself from moaning too loud.

After a few minutes of Steve licking her pussy, he looked up at her and said, “Tell me what you want, slut.”

“Oh god, I want you to fuck me, Steve, I need to feel you deep inside me,” Chloe whimpered.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, then stood up, grabbed her by the waist, lined up his cock with her wet pussy, and slid into her.

She couldn’t help but let out a light moan, then bit her lip again to quiet herself down. Noah was still snoring away. Emboldened, she looked over at him and said, “Sorry, baby, but maybe if you kept me satisfied, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

Steve laughed, then wrapped a hand lightly around her throat and began quickly hammering in and out of her. “That little pussy doesn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

“Oh fuck, no,” she gasped, his hand still lightly choking her. “He’s so worthless in bed. Oh yes, oh yes, please fuck me harder,” Chloe whined, trying to stay quiet.

Steve leaned down so that his face was inches from hers, still fucking her hard and fast. “Did you like feeling my fingers inside you while your loser boyfriend just sat there like a fucking idiot?”

“Ohhh, fuck yes, I fucking loved it,” Chloe gasped.

“Yeah, you did,” Steve said with a cocky grin. “You like being a naughty girl, don’t you?”

“Ohhh, yesss.”

“Yeah? You like being a little cheating whore for me?”

“Yessssss!”

“Say it,” he ordered, taking his hand off her throat.

“Yes, yes, I love being a cheating whore for you, keep fucking me like the bad little slut I am!” she squealed.

She was getting louder, and Steve could tell she was about to cum again, so he slapped his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She moaned into his hand as he fucked her, her body practically convulsing in pleasure. When she came down from her orgasm, he pulled out of her and stood in front of her. “Get on your knees, slut,” he ordered her.

Breathing heavily, her tank top soaked through with sweat and sticking to her body, she slid to the ground and looked up at him submissively. “Oh my god, you’re amazing,” she said, then started sucking his balls.

“Yeah, that’s right, you know exactly what to do, don’t you?” Steve grinned down at her, slapping her face with his cock. “You don’t do that for this fucking sissy, do you?”

She giggled and looked up at him, shaking her head. “No way,” she said. “I only do this for real men like you.”

Steve gripped the top of her head, then slid his cock between her lips and down her throat, making her gag. He looked over at Noah, still sleeping on the couch, then flipped him the middle finger with both hands as Chloe eagerly sucked his dick, laughing as much as she could with a mouth full of cock. “Sorry, dumbass,” he said to Noah, “but this is what happens when you can’t fuck your girlfriend right.” Then he looked back down at Chloe. “Stand up.”

She stood next to him. Steve’s tall, muscular body towered over her small frame. “Let’s get this off of you,” he said, pulling her tank top over her head, revealing her round perky tits. He leaned down and started going back and forth sucking on them, looking over at Noah as he did. “What would you say if he woke up right now and saw this?” Steve asked. One of his hands was lightly squeezing one of her tits as he flicked the nipple with his tongue. The other manavgat escort hand was sliding between her legs, playing with her wet pussy.

Giggling, Chloe said, “I’d say he should sit there and watch so he can learn how a real man treats a girl like me.”

Steve laughed. “Damn, girl, that’s harsh. Here, I feel bad, bend over in front of him and give him a little kiss.”

Chloe stood in front of her sleeping boyfriend, then bent over and gave him a peck on the lips. As she did, Steve grabbed her firmly by the waist and slid into her firmly from behind. She let out a gasp and had to grab onto the back of the couch to keep herself from falling forward. Steve quickly began pounding her. She was inches away from Noah’s face.

“That’s it, look at your clueless boyfriend while I drop my load in you,” Steve said, slamming in and out of her.

“Oh god, oh yes, please cum inside me,” Chloe whispered as her sweat dripped on Noah’s face.

“Nnnnnngggghhhh, here I come, bitch,” Steve groaned, slamming himself into her and keeping his cock deep inside her while it pulsated. Chloe had never felt anything so amazing.

As soon as Steve pulled out of her, she collapsed on the floor to catch her breath and looked up at him, admiring his sweaty, muscular body. “Um, wow,” she said. “That was just what I needed. Thanks.”

“No problem, slut,” Steve said, picking up his clothes. “I’m gonna get outta here, but lemme know when you need some good dick again.”

“I will,” Chloe said with a smile.

***

That Friday, the girls’ jaws were all on the floor after Chloe’s story. “Holy shit,” Madison said. “I dunno about the rest of you, but my panties are soaked right now.”

The other girls laughed and agreed. “That sounds so fucking hot,” Jenny said. “I can’t believe Noah didn’t wake up!”

“What would you have done if he had?” Emily asked.

Chloe giggled. “Um, I’m sure I would have felt bad later, but in the moment I would have just begged Steve not to stop. His dick felt too good!”

The girls laughed.

“What about you, Emily?” Madison asked. “Any more adventures with Brad?”

“Umm, yeah, a couple,” Emily said with a giggle.

“Wow, okay, slut,” Jenny teased.

“I know, but when Brad invites me over, I just cannot say no,” Emily said. “Especially since I only got to suck his dick the first time. The last couple times, we had sex, and wow, it is so incredible.”

The other girls murmured with envy.

“And, um, I guess he really enjoyed our first little adventure, because both of the times I came over, he had me, like, call Ryan on the phone while we did it!”

The girls gasped and laughed. “Wow, that’s so hot. And Ryan still couldn’t hear you?” Chloe asked.

“Honestly, Ryan is, like, so oblivious,” Emily said with a giggle. “But there were a couple close calls. The first time, Brad had me on all fours and was, like, fucking me really hard and fast from behind, and Ryan was talking about his classes or whatever, but then he stopped and asked me, ‘Uh, what’s that slapping sound?'” The girls laughed, including Emily. “I didn’t know what to say! Finally, I said I was working out, like, doing jumping jacks and stuff.”

The girls were now crying with laughter. “Oh, wow, good save,” Jenny said sarcastically. “And Ryan bought that?”

“Yes!” Emily said. “Not only that, but once Ryan started talking again, Brad even took the phone from me and held it up against my butt and started spanking me! I couldn’t believe it, but Ryan didn’t even say anything, he must have just assumed it was more exercise.”

“Oh, wow,” Chloe said.

“Yeah,” Emily continued. “I know it’s terrible, but there’s something so hot about being so naughty. Like, another time, I was riding Brad, and it felt sooo good, and he was making me cum. And the other times he’s made me cum, I just move the phone away and moan into the sheets or something, but I couldn’t do that while I was riding him. So I couldn’t help it, and I just cried out, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ as I came!”

Madison gasped. “With Ryan listening??”

“Yeah,” Emily nodded. “I thought for sure I gave myself away, but I couldn’t even think about it. I just hung up on him and figured I would deal with it later. So Brad and I kept fucking for a while, and he came in me, and then I called Ryan back. He asked what had happened, and I just said I’d gotten an annoying e-mail from a professor, so I was saying ‘fuck’ because I was so pissed off.”

More laughter. “And?” Jenny asked.

“And he believed it!” Emily said. “I had to make up a whole story about what happened, but of course he was just super-sweet and sympathetic about it.”

“Oh my god, that sounds so hot,” Jenny said. “You have to let me go next! It’s so frustrating the way Simon gets me all worked up and then cums in two seconds. I need a real fuck.”

Madison let out a sigh. “Oh, fine, I guess I’ll be putting up with Lucas’s micropenis for another week.”

The girls laughed as Jenny pondered how she would outdo Chloe’s adventure.

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I discovered my sexual fascination for peeing when I was a freshman in college.

A footpath through campus ran past my dorm, with lots of trees and shrubs, and my room’s second-story window looked down into a tangle of bushes all surrounded by branches, a little space hidden from most other windows.

One spring evening around sunset I was sitting at my desk, bored and playing on my computer, and saw someone move below. I looked out.

It was a guy I’d seen around campus, maybe a year older than me. He was a bit emo or punk — longish hair with some dye streaks, pierced ears, usually dark clothes, slim build, with a cute smile and a gentle way about him. I couldn’t remember his name, if I even knew it. People said he was cool, though he seemed to have only a couple of friends he ever hung out with, and he often strolled around alone.

Now he was ducking into the little sheltered area under my window, among the bushes and branches, and he looked around. I kept my face just behind my window curtain so he didn’t see me when he glanced up. What was he up to?

Apparently satisfied no one was looking, he quickly unzipped his skinny jeans and got out his dick and started peeing into a bush. He was peeing really forcefully too, I noticed in spite of my shock. Like he had to go really bad. Obviously he must have needed to, if he couldn’t wait until he got back to his room or wherever he was going, and felt the need to rush aside and pee right here.

It turned me on so much, thinking of how desperate he must be, how he finally knew he couldn’t hold it and had to grab the nearest place to relieve himself. And, lucky me, it was somewhere where I could watch.

I remembered feeling like that one day the week before, during a ninety-minute lecture. I’d had to pee so badly by the end, I thought I was going to flood my jeans and make a lake on the lecture hall floor. I’d made it to the bathroom, though, and peeing then had felt so amazingly good it was almost like an orgasm.

He probably felt like that right now. I could see the deep relief in his face as he kept on peeing. He took probably a whole minute to empty his bladder; I don’t know exactly how long, except that I was marveling at how much he had in him. I was also aching to get a closer look at his dick, which I couldn’t see in much detail, except that it seemed like a nice size. I’d never touched a guy’s cock at that point or seen one in real life very close, and now I was so turned on I was dying to jump down there and take over, hold his dick for him while he pissed, see what it felt like in my grasp.

He finished and shook himself off, and tucked himself back in, then loped off swiftly. My panties were hot and wet with my juices, I realized. I wanted…what did I want? To pee? To masturbate? Well, how about both.

I jumped off my bed and went into the bathroom. In a stall, I pulled down my pants and cupped my hand between my legs as I sat on the toilet. I didn’t know why, except I wanted my hand on my genitals while I peed, like his was. I released my bladder, giving myself a hot handful of pee, and let it run between my fingers into the toilet. It felt so good. My clit was hard and throbbing. When I was done peeing, I rubbed my slick folds fast, up and down and round and round, and came within seconds, so explosively I felt lightheaded afterward.

So that was the kind of thing I liked. But how was I going to find ways to see THAT regularly?

I made do with porn and fantasies for a while. Then about a year later, zonguldak escort I ended up striking incredibly lucky. I walked into the first day of a literature class and there was that same guy. Cute smile, floppy dyed hair, skinny jeans. I took the empty desk beside his, my heart thundering. *I watched you pee one time. I saw your cock. It made me so hot.* Right, couldn’t say that. I settled for “Hi.”

He said, “Hey,” and asked if I’d taken a class with this professor before. I hadn’t, and we talked for a few minutes about the class and what we’d studied. We told each other our names — he was Graham. The prof walked in and we shut up as class started.

But a couple of weeks later, when it came time to pick partners for a project, Graham turned to me and lifted his eyebrows in invitation. Of course I said yes.

We went a few times after class to a café to talk about the paper topic, then went to our separate rooms. We really hit it off, often getting distracted by chatting about random topics instead of the paper. Neither of us were dating anyone — we covered that the first day — and we sometimes had moments of long eye contact that made me feel happy and fluttery.

One day, when the café was getting extra crowded, I asked if he’d rather come back to my room where it was quieter. My roommate was a library research fiend and never came home till dinnertime or later.

He accepted and we started walking. We kept talking as usual, but he was also fidgeting.

Then he said, sort of shy, “I’m going to have to go to the bathroom first thing when we get there. I REALLY have to pee. All that coffee…”

I went completely breathless with arousal, but I just laughed and said, “Oh yeah, same. I’ll let you go first, though!”

“Sweet, thanks.”

Then here’s where I was evil.

When we got to the dorm, I pretended to search in my bag, and gasped. “Oh no. I think I left my keys at the café. Shoot. I know it’s like a fifteen-minute walk back, but do you think…no, never mind, I can’t wait, can you?”

Graham looked kind of panicked. He was shifting from foot to foot. “I mean, I could try, but…”

“No, you know what, um — here.” I beckoned him around the side of the building, into the little hidden sheltered area under the trees and bushes where he had peed last year. Right under my own window.

Before he could get shy, or before I could myself, I dropped my backpack, undid my jeans, and shoved them to my knees and squatted. “Ahhh,” I sighed as I started peeing on the ground. “Just do it like this. I don’t care, do you?”

I knew I was blushing, but my body kept contentedly letting my pee stream out. I really did have a full bladder and it felt like sweet relief, though I could have held it a bit longer; I apparently wasn’t quite as desperate as Graham.

Graham’s eyes were wide and round as he stared at me. I’m sure he could only see a shadow of my privates, and part of my bare butt, but it was still way more than he would have expected to see today. And I KNEW he could hear my pee pouring onto the ground and could see the puddle it was making, which was starting to flow out between my feet.

God, this was turning me on, pissing outdoors in front of my dream guy. At least, I hoped it would turn out a good decision, would inspire him to do the same, and not just make him run away and stop talking to me forever…

He jumped into action after a couple of frozen seconds. “Yeah, sure, totally,” fethiye escort he said, and undid his jeans. Piss shot from his cock the moment he got it out, a yellowish-clear jet hissing into a bush and clattering to the ground to form a growing puddle like the one underneath me. His dick was almost at eye level for me, even if still five feet away, and I could finally see it so much more clearly. The hole at the tip where the pee flowed out, the folds and ridges of skin, the shape of his balls under the shadow of his hand…mm, I wanted to fondle it all.

“Uhh,” he groaned in appreciation. “Yeah, I really had to go. Couldn’t have held it, I don’t think. Glad you thought of this.” He peed even harder, the stream shooting out straighter, like he wasn’t holding back at all now. His shoulders lowered in relief as he let out his breath. His eyes moved to me again, and caught me staring at his cock.

I looked at his face and grinned, guilty. His gaze flickered down between my legs and he grinned too, all awkward and crooked. I wanted him so bad, I had to remind myself to breathe.

“Think I’m done,” I murmured, and rose up a little with my thighs nice and parted so he could see better. “Wait…” I crouched again and peed a tiny bit more, keeping them open wide, then sighed in satisfaction. “Ahh. Now I’m done.” I stood and took my time about pulling up my underwear and jeans, my face hot with excitement, knowing he was checking out my private parts.

I zipped my jeans and looked at his parts too — still pissing, though the volume was dwindling now. He looked at himself and chuckled. “Guess I really had to pee,” he said, in a tone like he was apologizing. “Shouldn’t have waited so long.”

“That’s okay. I’m kind of liking the show.”

“Yeah?” His smile grew. His cock might have a little bit also — it did look thicker and longer than when he’d started, I thought. In fact, yeah, it looked almost hard, the way guys did in porn with their erections. Oh God, I hoped I had made him hard.

His pee trickled to a few drops, and he glanced around and stuffed himself back in his pants. “Going to get arrested if I stay like this out here, though.”

“Ha, yeah. So…want to come in?”

“Got to go back for your keys first, right?”

“Oh, right. Well, actually, let me look…” I pretended to check again, and hit my forehead with my palm, and held up the keys. “I put them in a different place. Duh. Sorry!”

He shrugged, smiling and looking a lot more relaxed now. “No big deal. Problem taken care of.” He sauntered over and stood very near, gazing down at me.

I looked up and smiled back. “Should we try to get some work done?” I said, coyly.

“We should try to get SOMETHING done.”

I had to swallow, my throat had gone so dry with lust. I tilted my head toward the dorm and let him in.

We had my room to ourselves, as I’d hoped. We set our packs down and got out our books and notes, then just sat down, me on the bed and him on the chair, and gave each other speculative smiles.

“I guess it’s kind of like…a voyeurism thing?” he said. “Watching each other?”

“And liking it. I don’t know if it’s voyeurism or just…a kink. I mean, like, I don’t go looking into people’s windows.” (Just out of them, ha.)

“No, me neither. But I guess showing each other, that’s different.”

“Hot, even.”

“Very.” He glanced at his lap and shook his head. “Ugh. I still have a boner.”

I licked my lips, my alanya escort heart pounding. “Show me?”

He locked gazes with me, then slowly stood, undid his jeans, and pushed them down. His dick was definitely hard now, flushed red and angling up a little. He was breathing shallowly.

I was already lifting my hand toward it. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Please.”

I closed my hand around it, fascinated –God, it was everything I’d hoped, silky and stiff and hot to the touch. I smelled guy skin and a faint touch of pee, which to be truthful only made me hornier. When I slid my hand up and down the shaft, he moaned and pushed himself into my grip. “Fuck, I’m so turned on,” he murmured. “This is probably so wrong.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong. You have no idea how wet I am right now.”

He looked at me, eyes intense with interest. “Show me?”

I let go of his dick for the moment, slid back on the bed, and wriggled out of my jeans and underwear. I kicked them off onto the floor, then pulled up one knee as I sat there, to open my crotch to view — my swollen labia, all shiny and slick. He started breathing more heavily as he looked at me.

“Of course, some of it’s pee,” I admitted wryly, and ran my finger from my pussy up the cleft to my clit. Touching myself there made me shudder a little. It was so sensitive, I could come from a few more strokes if I wasn’t careful.

Graham sort of whimpered, then climbed onto the bed, a knee on either side of me, and spread his hand on my bare hip. “Can I?” he said. “Just to touch?”

I nodded, and opened my legs further. “Mm, please.”

His fingers were bigger, longer than mine, and I twitched and moaned at how divine they felt, stroking my inner folds, so lightly at first, then firmer and harder. I was already panting by the time he brought his middle finger to my dripping pussy, and when he slid it in, I cried out at how wonderful it felt.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You’re going to make me come on you.”

“Then come on me.” I shoved up my shirt and bra and spread my fingers on my breasts. “Right here.”

He scooted up on his knees to position his cock over my boobs, still keeping one hand deep inside me and caressing me. Then he started jacking himself with the other hand — and to see that was as intimate and sexy as seeing him pee. I felt my orgasm start building already.

Whimpering and writhing against his plunging hand, I reached up to cup his balls and squeeze the base of his shaft, feeling the damp heat there.

“Oh oh oh god ohhhh,” he moaned, and jerked his head back suddenly as he jolted. Come spurted out of his cock and dripped hot onto my breasts. It felt so erotic, and I imagined his desperate jet of piss landing on me like this some day, and…

I couldn’t hold back. I shattered into climax too, my hips pumping, my pussy wet and clenching around his fingers. He caressed himself and me until we both were spent, then he toppled down and lay panting beside me, our shoulders and sides touching.

“We’re getting so much work done on this paper,” he finally mumbled.

I reached out for the tissue box to wipe my boobs off. “So much.” I handed him some tissues too, to clean his hands.

While he was doing that, I rolled onto my side and made a sorrowful face at him. “Hey. Sorry I was all weird and kinky and cornered you into having to pee outside.”

He snorted a laugh. “Umm, I think it worked out fine. No apologies needed.”

“Good, because, like, I think I might have to forget where I put my keys every day. An hour after giving you a twenty-four ounce latte.”

He bent down and kissed me — and it occurred to me with chagrin that we hadn’t even kissed until now. “I just think it’s really cool you don’t mind stuff like that.”

“I really truly don’t mind,” I promised, and kissed him lots more times for good measure.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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When the first pair of panties arrived in the mail, suffice to say I was perplexed. My first thought was that they must have come to me by mistake. But when I looked at the address label, I saw they were addressed to me by name.

I held them up and admired the fine lacework; navy blue which contrasted nicely with the light blue body of the garment. A nice brief panty from La Perla. “Expensive,” I said out loud to no one there.

A tag fell out. I picked it up and read it: “johnnie, these should fit you nicely”.

“What the fuck,?” I thought. “Fit me?”

I was surprised because I’d never given panties a thought other than to pull them off my ex-wife.

I dropped them on the kitchen table and went out to run my Saturday errands. Still, all the stops and shopping I did, what I got in the mail stayed with me.

Once back home I placed those panties in the top-drawer of my china cupboard.

I called out for a pizza and went to get it. “Extra cheese and pepperoni, just what I needed after a long several weeks.

I ate my pizza with a glass of red wine. I had the next two weeks off and besides the strange mail I received, nothing was bothering me.

I’d recently filed for divorce after my wife left me for some guy she’d been fucking behind my back for what she said was only a month. I suspected it was longer but why quibble.

Her parting words still stung. “He’s got a cock johnnie. A nice big cock. Your little pink thing belongs in panties not pussies.”

“Panties,” she said. Maybe she sent them out of spite. I called her cell. She answered after 4 rings, “What do you want cuckold?”

“I got your present Cindy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about you tiny dicked fuck?”

“Remember what you said as you left? Remember saying my dick belonged in panties, not pussies? Well slut, I got the panties you sent.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,?” she asked again.

“You mean they didn’t come from you?”

“After 5 years of your excuses for your poor performance in bed and that bitchy little hissy fit you threw when you walked in on Jason and me, you think I’d spend money or take the time? You had the perfect opportunity to join us, to be a willing cuckold little dicked husband. But not you. You acted like a little bitch, crying and stomping off. Now you think I’m sending you panties. What the fuck is wrong with you johnnie?”

“Nothing Cin but I did get…”

“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”

“click”

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t her. But who else then?”

I watched TV for a couple hours before going online. Checking my personal email, I saw I had one from an unknown person. “secret Admirer@gmail.

“Hmm. Should I open this,” I wondered.

I toyed with the idea of deleting it without opening it. Maybe though there might be a clue as to who sent those panties. Still, I was hesitant. I have dealt with virus’ before.

I opened and read or simply deleted the many messages I expected to find and came back to the one I was unsure of.

“Fuck it. What the worst that could happen?”

When I opened the email it began:

“johnnie. I have long admired you from afar. I just found out that the slut you were married to walked out on you. Good for you. She doesn’t deserve a sweet caring person like you. I sent you the panties today. I hope you like them. I know they’ll fit just right. Your tiny package and cute round bottom belong in something soft and feminine.

Hugs and kisses sweet boi.”

I read and re-read that email searching for a word, expression, something that might give me a clue to who sent it. The grammar was too correct for my ex to have written it. Who then?

I showered but my mind was working overtime trying to figure out who my secret admirer might be.

I dried off in front of the full-length mirror. Yes, my penis was little. I admit that and Cindy knew it before she said yes and we got hitched. My waist was only a 29 but my hips and butt were full, “too full for a guy’s,” I thought to myself. Although I was only 5’7″ and my weight proportionate, I had trouble dating before I met Cindy.

I wasn’t a bad looking man. A full head of hair but hardly any peach fuzz on my lithe body. I had bright blue eyes, dimples when I smiled with my full lips. I wasn’t what some would call ruggedly handsome but all the girls in my family used to tell me I was cute. So I had that going for me, I guess.

I slept soundly that night and the next morning I pulled on my tight black bike pants and blue T-shirt and left the house to go roller blading in the park.

I tightened my helmet and when satisfied, off I went. A concrete path surrounded the small lake and I sped around it in the early morning when there was little pedestrian traffic to slow me down.

After working up a sweat I decided I had enough for now and took my blades off and walked home.

It was a beautiful morning; the kind of morning when one felt anything was possible.

Back home giresun escort I showered off the sweat from the workout and changed into some gym shorts.

I went to my PC with no other thought than to check my email and read the news.

There was again. An email addressed to me from my secret admirer. This time I opened it figuring the first one wasn’t infected; this one will probably be safe as well.

It read:

“johnnie:

Baby, it’s time you understand that all who know you do not now, nor have ever considered you a man. Not a real man, johnnie. Your little flap of a penis is well known among your friends, family, and co-workers. I can’t think of a person who doesn’t know the reason Cindy left you and succumbed so easily to Jason’s charm and big black cock.”

“Man, fuck this,” I thought. “I don’t need this crap.” But the start of the next paragraph caught my eye and I continued reading:

“johnnie, dear sweet johnnie, please baby, for your sake consider giving up your pretense of being a man. It does not suit you and serves you no good purpose except to postpone the inevitable. I have attached a few photos of what you would look like should you have the courage to face your future. You need only to surrender to those latent desires that you have so neatly tucked away in your subconscious.

I implore you johnnie, look at the photos, research transvestism, and give yourself, body and soul, mind and spirit to serving cocks. Believe me baby, you’ll make a better girly boi than you ever made trying in vain to prove to the world that you’re a man.”

That was it, the end of the vile message. Me? Serve cocks? Humph.

But I did look at the pics attached but only out of curiosity mind you. Pictures of guys built like me in pretty panties, some also wearing hose and garters posing. Their sexy bottoms prominent, tiny penis’ visible through the sheer material.

I looked at those photos for a good half hour before realizing I myself was erect. I quickly closed the attachments though not deleting them. I figured I might need them for evidence later.

The next day there were no obscene emails and nothing in the mail for which I was relieved.

But on Tuesday I received another thick envelope in the mail. “I already know what’s in here,” I thought in disgust.

I was right. A pretty pair of boy cut panties. Black mesh designed to give whomever may be looking a peek-a-boo of my penis.

“Wait a damned minute John. My penis? Dude. What the fuck are you thinking? And who the hell is sending me these?”

But there was one thought that disturbed me more than getting panties in the mail. The email said that everyone, family, friends, co-workers knew I had a tiny dick and that they all thought I’d make a better faggot than I ever had being a man.

But I was a man, wasn’t I? I mean, Wasn’t I? This has to be someone’s idea of a joke, a prank. “Some asshole is getting a good laugh,” I decided.

I opened my email figuring to see yet another bogus message. There was none. I found that I was disappointed. It was kind of fun seeing that “secret admirer’s” feeble attempts to convince me I would make a better cock sucker than what I actually am.

“Ding”, my computer alerted me that I had a new message.

My heart raced as I opened it:

“johnnie darling:

by now you have been going crazy by what you’ve been experiencing. Poor baby. Transitioning is difficult but once you’ve accepted your true destiny and learn to be what nature intended you to be, you’ll be so much happier, so free. Please baby girl, before you lose your mind, watch the short videos attached. See yourself johnnie girl. Be yourself sweet baby. I want you to imagine yourself on your knees sucking the cocks like those bois in the clips. I want you to see how happy they appear to be. I want you to see the look in their eyes as they look up at the man johnnie, the real man whose cock they are worshipping. Those are not the looks of shame johnnie. In their eyes they show desire to please, hope for considerations, and most of all, the look of promise to faithfully give themselves to his cock. See how pretty they are in their panties. That can be you johnnie. That should be you.

Trust me baby girl. I want you to do something for me, and for you. I want you to go to where ever you’ve stashed your panties, that’s right johnnie. Your panties baby. Put a pair on. Look at yourself in the mirror. I want you to see your full and luscious lips, those cock welcoming lips of your johnnie. Smile at yourself baby girl. Smile and say hello to the sweet sissy you see peering back at you with those soft come-hither eyes. See the beautiful cock slurping faggot reflected in your mirror johnnie. Turn to the side. See how sexy, how enticing your fat bottom will be to men johnnie. Real men who desire to stuff those puffy lips, that sexy boi pussy with big succulent cocks. Lastly johnnie, I want you to look down at your pathetic excuse yalova escort for manhood between your sexy legs. Tell me you aren’t hard. Harder than you’ve ever been. Don’t lie and say something stupid like, it’s only morning wood. I know the truth and deep within, you also know the truth. The next step will be for you to accept that truth as yours.

Hug and kisses

secret admirer.”

Jesus Christ. I was hard now just reading that shit. I stood and walked away from my PC not wanting to open the video clips for fear of how I might react. I was starting to get confused.

I paced. I swore. I cried. I swore some more. Although it was not yet noon, I went to my liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Vodka. A wee bit of ice and a full 8 ounces of my clear, soothing liquid friend.

Then another. By 1 PM that afternoon I was buzzing. Drinking like I did was probably not the smartest thing I’d ever done. It lowered my inhibitions. Made me think foolish thoughts. “Perhaps they know of what they speak,” I laughed.

The videos were eye opening. Indeed, those sissies sucked with loving care. The look in their eyes spoke of gratitude and more. I saw the look of acceptance, peace, and fulfilment.

Another video clip showed a sissy being double teamed. A large black cock parted his smiling lips as another fucked his boi pussy. The look of lust shone in the sissy’s eyes. Little high-pitched squeals of delight emanated from around that beautiful cock as those men, “Real men,” my admirer called them, took their pleasure from the kneeling pretty boi.

The last video showed a beautiful woman lying on the stomach of a black man, his cock firmly lodged in her pussy. A sissy was furiously licking both the exposed cock, the big balls, and her cunt as she watched him.

I saw her bouncing breasts, her quivering thighs, the wanton look of pure lust on her face. But I also saw a young man, he couldn’t be older than me, lovingly attending to the pair of lovers.

I watched that clip over and over, my dick throbbing with the need for relief. I was fascinated by the trio and in particular the happy sissy. There was a contented look on her face. A look I’d never had on my face.

An old famous saying sprang to mind, “If no one knows whether or not you’re a fool, why open your mouth and remove all doubt?”

And yes, doubt was in me, growing, clouding my judgement. Maybe they’re right. Maybe.

I was pacing again when I heard the ding of a new email.

“johnnie girl,

I bet you’re all sweaty, pacing, maybe even drinking this early in the day. Doubt has crept into your thoughts that I might just know what I’m telling you. Put them on johnnie. Put your panties on and do as I asked. What do you have to lose baby girl? Nothing. You have nothing at all to lose. Now be a good girl and do as momma says.

SA”

What did I have to lose? Whomever that is emailing was right about that. I had nothing to lose.

I went to the panty drawer and brought out both pair. I held them behind my back, switching them from one hand to the other until I didn’t know which pair was in which hand. “The right hand,” I decided.

I looked down at the sheer mesh boi-shorts.

Excitement was building in me as I stripped and pulled them up my legs and over my hips and buns.

Whoever sent these knows my size. They felt perfect. I rubbed my bottom and liked the way my bottom felt through the soft mesh.

I went to the mirror and looked at myself. Those boi-shorts looked perfect on me. The felt very nice too. I turned sideways and admired my soft fat bottom. Exercise had not tightened my buns one iota. They were as always, soft to the touch.

I liked the way those panties rode low on my wide hips. My little dick looked sexy. Hard, it was pressed against the front panel. I knew if I attended to my need at that moment my sexy mood would dissipate.

Maybe it was the Vodka, perhaps it was all those sex filled emails and videos. Who knew? I denied myself the pleasure of masturbating and paraded around the house in my panties. I had to be honest with myself. I’d never felt so aroused, so excited, so sexy before. I almost wished that whoever it was that sent me these could see me in them. Almost wished.

I went back to my favorite video and watched that pretty girly-boi make love to the crotches of both man and woman. That big black cock, shining with the moisture of a hungry pussy, the sissy’s lips glossed, her face smeared with the results of their fuck.

I rubbed myself through my panties and imagined that it was me, me johnnie girl, lavishing both that cock and pussy. I pursed my lips and made sucking motions as I watched that clip over and over while playing with my little erection through the soft material.

Needless to say, I did masturbate that night. For the first time in my life I thought a bubble bath would feel nice. I lay in the warm water, my eyes closed, my fist around my yozgat escort dick and gave myself the pleasure I deserved.

My orgasm was most satisfying. I fixed a TV dinner and tried to focus on the late news.

My mind wandered back to the videos and I found myself once again immersed in arousing spectacle of sissies and cocks.

I explore the internet and found that there are many such girly-boys out there and that it was widely accepted by society.

I read many articles which discussed the roles that bois play. I learned that sissies received pleasure from giving. Pleasing real man was their reward. Sissies, I read have an unquenchable thirst for sperm. One article postulated that the sissy ingested the sperm from real men in the false theory that by drinking the sperm of real men they may become real men themselves.

Another article argued against that saying that sissies have a natural craving for men to fill them with sperm; the same craving women have to have intercourse with men with cocks. “Sissies have been known to recycle their own weak seed when alone or under the strict supervision of whomever might have claimed them.

Claimed them? The thought was provoking. I searched for claiming sissies and found a plethora of information on that subject.

Most authors agreed that a sissy, alone in the world simply cannot fulfill their primary function. That function is pleasing real men. A real man can claim a sissy should he so desire. That sissy, in turn, will live only to please that claimant. The sissy needs and seeks approval, praise, and what little undeserved considerations his master may wish to bestow upon his sissy.

There were many pictures of sissies either claimed by some real men or those married to women who have devoted their bodies to the pleasure of men to whom they are not wedded. In some instances, it was the wife who helped her husband realize his true purpose and although they remain married, it is only in name. She sees a man or men, depending her sexual appetite with whom she permits her sissy to serve and service. The symbiotic relationship satisfies the needs of both the wife and her sissy husband. The real winner, the article said, was the man with the big cock receiving the pleasure from both wife and husband.

I saw photos of actual sissies dressed to the nines. There were pics of sissies with budding little titties. Sissies in chastity, and many, oh so many of pretty sissies in their sexy lingerie.

To say I was mesmerized would be an understatement. I was more than fascinated and wondered if I really had those qualities, the skills and talents required of sissies.

I learned that fortunate sissies lead a life devoted to the pleasure of others. Lives filled with discipline, spankings, humiliations. Lives in which the sissy must be content to seek permission to pleasure herself, to be told what to wear, where to be, who to service.

All of these things, the article continued, would be considered cruel by normal people in normal relationships. The sissy understands she is not normal. She is special and as such, she requires and deserves special care and handling. A good and proper sissy know she is to be punished for any and all missteps,, real or perceived by whomever it is that controls her.

I shivered at those words but in the back of my mind, I knew I my shivering wasn’t out of fear but arousal. That I could become so attuned to what I was reading made me rethink those emails. My antagonist might know me better than I know myself. That, I’d read, was a trait of many a potential sissy.

My head was spinning when it hit the pillow. I dreamt that I had been claimed by a beautiful woman who in turn had been black owned. I had a wet dream, serving both he and she while they enjoyed each other’s bodies.

I awoke in a sweat with my new panties wet from my dreaming.

I showered and without hesitation went to get my other panties.

My God but they looked great on me. My body, my frame was made for them. I decided then and there that I would remain at home in only my pretty panties that day.

I turned on my PC with the thought of reading more on my research but saw I had a couple emails.

I read those from family who asked how I was. I wrote a perfunctory reply that I was fine and opened the email I’d been hoping to see from my “secret admirer”.

“Dear sweet johnnie:

If I am any judge of character, by now you’ve done as momma instructed and tried on your new panties, inspected yourself in the mirror and gave yourself little sissy orgasms. Good girl. Today I have another assignment for my pretty girl. I want her, you, to take a selfie in your panties and send it to me in reply to this email. I want that photo pronto missy. Failure will result in my discarding you and you will never hear from me again. I have every confidence that I will receive that selfie in the next ten minutes johnnie.

You may expect another package today sweet girl. I have decided I want my sissy to have a whole new ensemble. An outfit worthy of my pretty little faggot sissy. I have included a prop with which I expect, no, make that I demand you become familiar with, so much so that you practice for two hours each and every day until you have mastered your calling. I needn’t say what it is baby girl. You’ll know it when you unwrap it.

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