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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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My ass is on fire. I am being punished for buying shoes without permission. I know he loves spanking me, and the shoes were really an excuse, and I am glad to be able to give him pleasure in this way as much as in any other. But oh I wish he wouldn’t do it so hard! He has been spanking me now for about five minutes, and I have already begun to cry. I quickly pretended tears when he first starting spanking me, convinced he would take pity on me once I started crying, but I swiftly realized that tears had no effect. The only thing that stops him is when his hand gets tired! At the moment he is taking a break, resting his poor dear hand, and I am trying to catch my breath.

I’m lying across his lap and the highest part of me, my ass cheeks, are flaming and it feels as though I could not possibly take any more. But I know from many previous spankings that we are probably less than half way through. Or maybe he will start with the strap now. His fingers are lightly trailing over my bum, and down the backs of my thighs, and he knows that he is making me shiver; making me even wetter than the spanking has already made me. Those silky fingers keep threatening to explore, and we both know that as soon as they start exploring I will start cumming, and from then on I will cum and cum all the time he spanks me. But he is teasing at the moment, his mersin escort fingers not quite there. I have opened my thighs in silent invitation, but he has not responded by sliding his fingers in there, where I am wet and hot and musky.

As I wait for him to start again, I realize one of those lovely red shoes has fallen off and is lying on the floor below me. Typical of him that he makes me wear them for this spanking, to remind me why I am being punished. Also on the floor so close below me I can barely focus on it is the strap, which he intends to finish me off with. One stroke for every five dollars the shoes cost! His hand is moving, sliding in where I want it! Ooooh, his fingers are exploring, oh fuck they are indeed, suddenly and without warning he has slid a hand in between my thighs, in between my labia, IN ME! A climax crashes through me, and I howl in anguished pleasure.

I think of the open window, always left open so the neighbors can hear, part of my punishment is that the neighbors must hear. Christy, my best friend, lives next door, and I suspect she is out in her garden, poised, breathless, and probably masturbating as she listens to my anguish. Her husband never spanks her, she has never been spanked, and she is almost insanely jealous of this aspect of my life. Thinking of muğla escort Christy, I try to choke off my moans, try to accept his attentions in silence, but it is impossible, his thumb is now actually on my clitoris! Pressing down on it! My thighs clamp tightly around his forearm, determined never to release him, never to allow him to withdraw his lovely glorious hand from inside me.

“Let go, Ann,” he says, coolly, impossibly coolly.

How can he be so cool when he has gotten me so hot! I feel him twisting, reaching down with his left hand, and picking up the strap from the floor below my nose. I watch it disappear from view, and reluctantly open my thighs.

His fingers withdraw and he says, “I think Ann, that I require you to be standing, bent over, touching your toes, for the strap.”

Has he noticed that one shoe has fallen off? Is that the reason for this change of plan? I struggle breathlessly to my feet, and stand, one bare foot on tiptoe, the other perched on the steeply sloping sole of the remaining shoe. Am I meant to kick this shoe off, or put back on the one that I lost when I was kicking and struggling just now? He kicks the missing shoe at me, and I quickly slip it on. He reminds me yet again that the shoes are the cause of my punishment. As I bend to touch my toes, I look down nevşehir escort at them and I don’t care that I am being punished; they are the nicest shoes in my whole wardrobe. It is almost impossible to touch my toes in these high heels, but I do my best, and I can imagine what the position is doing to my legs, to my bum! I struggle to retain my balance in this tightly stretched position. The strap kisses my tender, hot bum, and lifts away. I am about to pay for these shoes, and I know that the neighbors will hear me howling, and tomorrow Christy will quiz me about it, wanting to know everything that happened.

Right at this moment, awaiting the pain, I would gladly swap places with her, let her take my place, bent over, bum thrust out, legs straining. But I know that in a few minutes he will drop the strap and push me down onto the carpet, and moments later I will be experiencing his passion, as his rampant, hard, leaking cock thrusts into me, hammering my blazing bum into the carpet as he takes his pleasure in me and I take my pleasure from him. Does he know that Christy is listening, does he get off on her innocent face when she visits, takes coffee with me, looks at him all admiring because he dares to chastise his woman? I don’t care, because right now it is my ass that has his undivided attention. And very soon it will be me getting fucked by him. I look down at my lovely red shoes and tell myself not to cry out, to take my punishment in dignified silence. The strap falls. I howl, and start to sob like a silly schoolgirl. Tears flood my eyes; I can no longer see my lovely red shoes as the sweet pain rushes through me.

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

Jason was completely fed up with his life, or lack thereof. He hated his job, he didn’t give a shit about his fucked-up family, and he had less than no interest in the giggling girls who threw themselves at him at work. As if he’d fuck any of the mindless twits. He needed more, and he knew it. Especially regarding his sex life. Or, again, lack thereof.

He’d tried to have a couple of relationships in college. But those girls were surprisingly idiotic, too. And weak. Most of them wouldn’t even assert themselves enough to choose a damned movie. Why did every girl he met assume that men wanted a stupid, mindless, malleable plaything?

For years he’d fantasized about a strong woman. One that could take control of him, and his needs. His fantasies were fed by the internet, and endless websites that he had spent too much money subscribing to. One in particular, The Society, had become his favorite over the years. He’d finally unsubscribed to the others, and focused all of his spare time on that one.

It was an elaborate fantasy world. There were Dom/me’s that were all wealthy and powerful. Their dungeons were a submissive’s dream come true. Filled with horses, swings, punishment benches, impaler towers, spreader bars, and even puppy cages. And lots of naked, eager men and women that The Society called “darling toys”.

The Domm/me’s controlled it all. Starting with the leashes of the seemingly endless toys, who were all used in every way imaginable. The toys were fucked, and used to fuck each other. They were pissed on and gagged and cropped and took dildos, fists, cocks, clamps, and every other implement known to man in every orifice of their bodies. He’d watched it all, and wished that he was one of those toys.

Then there were the “dear slaves”. Those ones were one step above the toys. The males were dressed in leather straps across their chests to denote their status. The females wore short togas that were cut to reveal their breasts and ended low on their waists. Nothing important was hidden by their clothes. They organized trains on the willing toys. They even plied whips and canes occasionally. They were used, and commanded to use the toys. The idea of being one of them, balancing between submission and domination, shook him to his core.

Every once in awhile a “beloved submissive” would show up. All the ones he saw were female, and were the most favored of the Dom/me’s toys. They wore longer togas that covered their assets, but were easily slipped up to allow access to their asses and pussies. There was one in particular that caught his eye. Siena. She was the beloved submissive of Master Jacob. He used her in the most amazing ways.

He’d watched Siena being tied to horses, whipped, (surprisingly lightly), and then fucked for hours. Master Jacob had looked on, smiling while he fucked male toys’ assess and female toys’ pussies. But the Dom never seemed to come in any of them.

Master Jacob only came in his beloved sub Siena, at least for the camera. But that only happened after she was thoroughly cleaned of all other come by laving tongues. Jason had masturbated countless times to their erotic shows. He’d fantasized about being one of those toys, licking Siena’s holes clean for Master Jacob.

After one particularly shitty day at work, Jason stormed into his apartment and slammed the front door angrily before locking it. The fucking asshole on the phone had screamed at him for thirty minutes. Jason had figured out long ago that people felt like they could be pricks over the phone when they’d never talk to him like that face to face. It had royally fucked up his call times, and his bitchy boss had given him shit for not reaching his quota.

He jerked off the hated tie and tossed it on his bed. Why the fuck did he have to wear one in a call center, anyway? It wasn’t like any of the callers ever saw him. Rolling his eyes at the stupid rules, he gritted his teeth in frustration and sneered as he looked around his slightly messy apartment. The best he could say for it was at least the dishes were done.

He hated this fucking studio, too. The neighbors were always fighting over God knows what. The fire station two blocks over must be the most overworked station in the city, because sirens were constantly blaring day and night. And the fucking toilet still leaked after five months of his complaints.

Jason poured himself a whiskey and sat down at his computer. Flicking it on, he scowled and considered just packing up and moving somewhere. Anywhere. But as far as he could tell, every other place would be just as shitty as this one. Fuck it. At least he had The Society.

While the crappy old computer booted up, he stripped off his button-up shirt and sighed. Hanging it and his slacks up in the meager closet, he rolled his eyes at the other identical white shirts and black slacks. What a boring fucking life.

Slouching back into the chair in front of his computer, he navigated to The Society’s website and logged on. When the screen flickered, then went black, he scowled. If van escort his computer died, he might finally lose his mind and go postal. To his shock, the screen lit up with Siena’s face.

“Greetings. You have been chosen among The Society’s devotees for a very special invitation. Mistress Elena will be choosing a new toy for individual training. If you are interested, report to Hangar Eight at Pleasant Valley Airport on Tuesday at nine in the morning. Late applicants will not be accepted.”

Jason reeled back. What the fuck? This couldn’t be real. Mistress Elena? The most requested Trainer of all The Society? It was impossible. It was all fake, right? She was just an actress. Right? Maybe this was a cute way of auditioning for more actors?

But why here, in Pleasant Valley? Which was a misnomer if he’d ever heard one. There was very little about this valley that was pleasant. Shaking his head from the random thoughts, he stared at the screen.

Siena faded, and the normal site popped back up. Shaking, he clicked on the ornate door that led to Mistress Elena’s Dungeon. A list of videos came up, but he ignored those. He’d already watched all of them. Many, many times. Her door was always the first he clicked on. Much to his frustration, nothing new had been posted for almost a month.

But there was a new icon at the top of the page now. It looked like an engraved invitation, and it was addressed to “casub243”, which was his logon name. He’d chosen it before he knew that The Society’s definition of sub did not quite meet most of the D/s community’s. Clicking on the icon, he held his breath.

Mistress Elena filled the screen. She was leaning back, relaxed and smiling on a gold and cream striped chaise lounge. Dressed in a fluffy white robe, her normal severe braid had been released, and her thick black hair fell in soft waves, framing her face and tumbling over her shoulders. She held a glass of champagne loosely in one hand, and was smiling happily.

It was the smile that shook him the most. He’d seen a wide range of emotions on her beautiful face. Stoic, disapproving, approving, and even a bit of amusement here and there. But never that happy smile.

He focused on the scene behind her for a second. The lounge sat in front of a wide picture window. The angle showed off elaborate gardens in the background, and a thick forest behind them. Luxurious curtains framed the window, and he realized that film setting had to have been very expensive. It was fascinating. He’d only ever seen her in her dungeon before. They hadn’t spared any expense for that setting, either.

“Your interest has not gone unnoticed, little one. But it is not enough to be interested. We have rules, and expectations. Very few who apply are accepted. In this case, only one. This is a private invitation. One would hope that you would not be so crass as to bring a friend along.”

Jason’s breath quickened. Was this for real? Real real? Was it possible? And if so, how had he gotten a special invitation? But the website operators could track which videos he watched, and how often. Maybe… Her voice broke into his thoughts again.

“If you are chosen, I will train you, and I will keep you. As you are well aware, I demand obedience, and worship. In return for which, I will offer guidance and support on your journey into total submission to my will. This is not a game, little one. Think carefully before you apply.”

When Mistress Elena lifted her glass in a small salute and drank, the screen blanked out again. Mistress Elena’s main site came back up. Jason shook his head and took a fiery gulp of whiskey. No way. There was no way that this was real. But why the fuck would they have given him an address to go to?

The website obviously made huge amounts of money. It was professionally maintained, with new videos constantly being posted. It wasn’t like someone from The Society would want to lure him to a hanger at the airport to steal his wallet. Downing the remaining whiskey, he did exactly as Mistress Elena ordered, and thought carefully.

Tomorrow was Tuesday. At nine in the morning he had to be in his seat at work, or he would be written up. But he wouldn’t actually be fired. Just get a ration of shit from his boss. Chewing on his lip, he clicked on one of his favorite videos of Mistress Elena training a toy.

The toy was tied to a submission bench in her elegant dungeon. She instructed him to take a huge butt plug deep in his ass.

“Suck on it with your asshole, toy. Caress it. Pull it in, and push it out. Not all the way. Just until it hurts.”

She stepped back. The camera focused on the plug moving in time to the toy’s rhythmic grunts and moans of pleasure.

“Good boy. We will train that pretty little hole to take Master Hudson’s huge cock. You want to please your beloved Master Hudson, don’t you?” Her voice was sweetly dominating.

The toy nodded frantically. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you for your loving instruction,” he gasped.

“You are welcome, darling yalova escort Erik. Such a pretty toy. Mistress Zenith did not use your ass enough for Master Hudson’s tastes. She enjoyed your beautiful cock far too much to pay attention to your hole. We will stretch it wide, then train it to clamp down tight. Ten minutes with this plug, then we move on to the next largest.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” he whispered submissively.

Jason’s eyes focused on the tiny Mistress as she came back into view. She hummed approvingly as she slapped the toy’s ass hard, leaving a bright hand print on his cheek.

Jason’s cock bobbed to attention in his boxers, and he slipped it out from between the flaps.

Watching her set out other implements, he fantasized about being that giant man on her bench. She would stretch his tight ass wide. For her pleasure, not Master Hudson’s. Stroking his cock, he spread the pre-come over its head and groaned.

Fuck it. Fuck work. Fuck his cunt of a boss. He’d go. Hanger Eight.

*****

When Jason arrived at the small municipal airport, he was surprised at the security presence. A man with a clipboard and earpiece approached his car and eyed him suspiciously.

“Name?”

“Uhm, Jason, sir. Jason Mattingly,” he answered hesitantly.

The huge man flipped pages and shook his head. “Screen name?”

“Oh, uhm.. casub243,” he whispered, embarrassed.

The man found the new name quickly and beamed. “Star next to your name, kid. You’ve impressed someone already.” Slapping a huge gold star onto his windshield, he waved Jason on. “Park closest to the hangar. Might be here awhile,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.

Jason nodded wordlessly and pulled his ancient Toyota forward. He was amazed at the number of cars there. Every make and model from a shiny black Lexus to an old-school yellow VW van painted with rainbows. The parking attendants or security guards or whatever they were all focused on the star on his windshield as they waved him closer and closer to the hangar.

Jesus. This was real. Real real. He glanced at his watch. It was only eight thirty and the parking lot was almost full. Apparently no one wanted to be late. Shaking as he got out of the car, he didn’t bother to lock the door on the piece of crap.

An eager woman with an earpiece and clipboard rushed up to him and smiled. “Casub243?”

“Uhm, yes,” he admitted, confused. How the hell did he earn a star, anyway?

“So glad to meet you. I’m toy Priscilla. You might not recognize me with clothes on,” she teased happily.

Jason’s jaw dropped. A blush stole up his face. He’d masturbated while she screamed in pleasure and pain from Master Chu’s abnormally huge cock pounding in and out of her ass relentlessly. Priscilla was a registered come slut, and was well known for being able to orgasm over and over.

She didn’t seem to be even slightly embarrassed, and motioned to him as she turned and led him to the side door of the hangar. “Hurry, beloved sub Siena has been waiting to greet you,” she urged.

His heart pounded. Beloved sub Siena was there? He felt his cock growing and closed his eyes. God, he really needed to learn how to control that. Mistress Elena had been clear in various videos that she preferred her trainees to remain soft unless commanded to be hard. None of them were able to comply fully.

When he entered the hangar, he looked around and gaped again. There were literally hundreds of men there. Lines snaked toward tables set against one wall. It reminded him of old videos of World War II volunteers. Men were filling out papers, being weighed and measured, blood pressure cuffs applied, and then handed folders to carry with them to the next table.

Some of the men were rejected outright. Those that were unclean, scruffy, overweight, or shorter than six feet, were hustled out the far door, obviously disappointed. Jason gulped and thanked his lucky stars that he was tall and well-formed.

Priscilla tugged him toward a red velvet curtain. He stepped behind it and bit his lip. Siena sat behind a long table piled with boxes, laughing while she chatted on a sleek cell phone. The sort of phone that cost more than his monthly rent.

Yeah, okay. This was real. At least, he knew the website was making money. As for the rest of it… it still had to just be some kind of audition… Right? For an actor to play their toys? Mistress Elena’s toy, to be precise.

“Yes, beloved Master Jacob, I will. Five o’clock, and not a second later,” Siena promised.

Priscilla approached her and whispered, “Casub243,” and waved toward him.

Jason blushed furiously. He seriously wished he’d chosen another screen name when he’d first joined The Society’s website.

“Oh, Master Jacob, casub243 just showed up. I’ll send you pictures,” she said excitedly.

He swallowed hard. What had he done that earned him this rock star treatment? There must be thousands of men who had watched their videos. He couldn’t possibly be that çorlu escort special.

“Yes, my beloved Master Jacob. I live to serve,” Siena replied submissively to whatever command her Master had given her. Hanging up, she grinned and stood.

“Strip, little one,” she ordered.

Jason blinked twice at the command until a frown began to form on Siena’s beautiful face. He pulled off his t-shirt quickly and laid it on the folding steel chair. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, he reminded himself that he was signing up for a helluva lot more than nudity. Toys were always naked. Always. He kicked off his shoes and pulled down his jeans and boxers in one swoop. Stepping out of them, he tossed them on the chair and started to pull off his socks.

“No, leave your socks on. Cement floors. You won’t have to worry about that in Mistress Elena’s House. Beautiful carpets. Except for the marble floors in her foyer and dungeon, of course, but they’re heated. Mistress Elena is very fond of her comforts,” Siena advised with a smile.

“Thank you, beloved sub Siena,” he said respectfully, and dipped his head in submission. Mistress Elena’s house? Exactly how real was this?

Siena and Priscilla exchanged significant smiles while Priscilla gathered up his clothes and put them in a cardboard file box. She labeled it with his screen name and set it aside.

“Phone, keys, and wallet in there?” Siena asked Priscilla.

“Yes, beloved sub Siena,” Priscilla confirmed.

“Good. Make your cock hard, boy. Toy Priscilla, measure him.”

“Yes, beloved sub Siena,” Priscilla replied and pulled the tape out of a hidden pocket in her short toga.

Jason closed his eyes and brought Mistress Elena’s training of toy Erik to mind. He fought to not shiver at the cold, and knew that he would have a difficult time becoming fully hard.

Siena hummed in disapproval. “Toy Priscilla, make this one hard,” she commanded.

“Yes, beloved sub Siena,” she agreed and fell to her knees in front of Jason.

Jason’s eyes flew back open at the feel of her mouth on his cock. She sucked him deep into her mouth, then all the way into her throat.

“Oh, God,” he gasped. His hands automatically went to her head, but he pulled them away quickly. Standing at attention in Position Nineteen, he spread his legs shoulder-width and gripped his hands behind his back. Priscilla slurped and sucked happily while he groaned and shook under her attentions.

“That should be sufficient. Hold up the measuring tape. Smile for the camera, dear Priscilla.”

Priscilla laughed and held the tape against Jason’s raging hard cock. Siena took a few pictures, then ordered Priscilla to measure his width. A few more pictures later, she was sending them off, presumably to Master Jacob.

“Eight by three. Nice start. You obviously know the Positions. Position Four,” Siena commanded firmly.

Jason dropped to his knees and laid his cheek on the hard cement. He reached back and spread his ass cheeks wide, shaking uncontrollably. Seriously hoping they took it as shivering from the cold, he desperately tried to calm his raging erection. He felt Siena’s hovering behind him, and knew that his tight ass was being examined.

Siena hummed in approval and snapped a few more pictures. “Finally, a shaved ass. But you’re far too tight, of course. Have you even taken a dildo in there?”

“No, beloved sub Siena,” he admitted. Of course he’d thought about it. He’d wanted to, but… He didn’t think of himself as gay. Jason wanted someone to do it to him. For him. Specifically, Mistress Elena.

“Finger? Anything?” Siena’s questioning pulled him back to now, and his tight hole that Mistress Elena would want to stretch.

“Yes, beloved sub Siena. I’ve fingered my asshole,” Jason confessed. Any other time he would have been incredibly embarrassed to say those words, but he was actually proud of his experimentation now.

“Well I guess that’s better than nothing. Cherry asshole. I hope you make it through, little one. Master Jacob likes taking almost-virgin asses. But Mistress Elena will demand that you’re stretched out before you can earn the status of a perfect toy.”

“Thank you, beloved sub Siena,” he whispered submissively.

“Position Nineteen.” She waited for him to stand, and assume the position again.

“Very good posture, too. You still have to wind your way through the process, though. But you’re already head and shoulders above most of the dreck showing up.”

“Thank you, beloved sub Siena.” Jason kept his eyes lowered, and was grateful that he’d studied all of the training videos. Obsessively.

Siena picked up a permanent marker and a large star out of a very short stack. “Name?”

“Jason Mattingly,” he answered.

She wrote Jason in block letters on the star and peeled off the backing. Sticking it to his chest, she patted his ass solicitously. “Good luck, Jason.”

“Thank you, beloved sub Siena.”

Priscilla motioned for him to follow her and stepped back into the main room of the hangar. Jason’s cheeks flamed as he walked behind her, completely naked except for his socks and the star on his chest. Glancing around, he didn’t see a single other man there without clothes on. He lowered his eyes submissively and squirmed in humiliation.

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

The very same evening that Melanie peed her relief all over the children’s books in the library, saw her find a new kind of Watersports fetish on the web. One particular site was devoted to pictures of women deliberately wetting themselves whilst still fully clothed. Melanie enjoyed her evening, imaging herself in the roles that the different model took on, desperately fantasying as to what the experience would be like. She was of course very tempted to try it there and then in her home but she had made herself a strict promise to leave her fetish at the door step and not risk vandalising her smart and tidy home.

Her dreams that night were filled with the ideas she had received from the Internet. Initially she was on the bus travelling to work when for no reason what-so-ever, she started to piss in her smart business suit. Hot pee had immediately started to run down her long legs as her panties filled her hot wet pee. Her fellow passengers had started in alarm when trickles of running golden urine had escaped from the bottom of her trousers before starting to form growing puddles on the bus floor. Melanie’s dream shifted and she next found herself squatting down in the middle of a public street before starting to fill her panties with her squirting, wet relief. Even in her dream she was amazed that passers-by ignored the mess she was making. A damp puddle had formed under the steady trickling stream of golden pee leaving the fabric of her skirt and dripping downwards.

Melanie woke with a start. Immediately she was greeted with the urge to pee burning in her bladder. Shaking her head from side to side, her long brown strands brushing over her shoulders, she tried to dispel the images from her dreams. Flinging her bed sheets to one side she gazed downwards in expectant horror. Relief flooded her as she saw that her Nightshirt was still dry. She had thought for a moment that events in her dreams had been triggered by an accident in real life. Jumping up from the bed she clutched at her groin, legs crossed with the desperate urging coming from her bladder. The very thought of simply going to the bathroom to relief her pee was out of the question. Her hormones were racing with all the erotic thrills she had received that night, both from the web and from her nocturnal fantasies.

Melanie did a little war dance on her carpet as she fought to hold back the urge inside her. The need to pee was so great now. It was at that very moment when Melanie got an incredibly naughty but very erotic idea. In the twilight flooding her room from the semi-shuttered windows, she could make out a pile of books lying in one corner. At that moment in time she couldn’t care less if they were the most valuable books in the whole world, she simply needed to pee in a naughty manner. Seconds later and Melanie’s Nightshirt was lying discarded on the floor. Now the only thing she was wearing as she rapidly spread out the books to form a large pile karaman escort on the floor was her thin framed spectacles, which had quickly grabbed from the Dresser. Adopting a squat over the books with her legs spread leg and wide round bum cheeks hanging only inches over the pages of the open books, Melanie started her toilet.

Immediately the room filled with a gentle pattering sound as from her pussy lips nestled in her triangular mass of pubic hairs, shot a thick jetting stream of hot piss. Her golden flow rained downwards forming a flowing arch in the air between her pussy lips and the books she had laid out. Already the papers were darkening and curling at the edges as they eagerly accepted her steaming hot urine. Melanie gasped at the sight of her pee squirting from her pussy hole and making an incredible mess over the library books she was squatting over.

‘So much for my promise!’ Melanie giggled. Naturally she was getting an immense thrill from her actions. Her nipples mounted on her perfect, small breasts were proud and erect, fuelled with her naughty passion. Staring between her legs she marvelled at just how wonderful her piss fountain looked whilst she squirted her pee out of her pussy. She wished now she had taken the time to set up her video camera to capture the moment so she could relive it time and time again. She already knew that she would be fingering herself to an incredible orgasm as soon as she had finished her leak over the library books. Although nowhere nearly as rewarding as naughtily peeing at work, this was still so simply incredible. Her hot pee shower was still jetting from her pussy with an incredible force. She really had been very desperate to go. The patter of her falling golden rain seemed so incredibly loud and for a fleeting moment she wondered if the sound would travel through the partly opened windows. It was a hot summer’s night and the room would have stifling if she had taken the time to close them before commencing her piss over the books.

Melanie giggled again. The idea of a passing stranger stopping in wonder at the soft sound of her peeing in her bedroom was simply to provocative. Whilst still enjoying her leak over the now thoroughly drenched library property, she fantasised about a stranger coming to her door in the middle of the night to enquire about the sounds. Melanie would then invite them in and show them the puddle of pee she had made in her room with her night-time slash, enjoying immensely their reaction. If it was a woman, Melanie wondered if she would like a go to. Melanie’s fevered brain conjured up an image of a stunning blond squatting down over the library books she had just peed all over. This very same blond then started to take a piss of her own, showering the already urine soaked books with a new shower of hot pee. This time though the golden shower issued from the shaved pussy of this blond haired lady, whilst Melanie kars escort watched on with one finger hidden inside her moist pussy tunnel.

Melanie’s arch of flowing piss was beginning to wane as her fantasy started again in her head, This time it was a tall handsome male who had come knocking at her door. After seeing the evidence of Melanie’s toilet on the books he would slowly undo his trouser fly before producing his large wide dick. Melanie imagined herself sinking to a submissive posture like she had seen on some the piss web sites, opening her mouth in readiness for his hot squirting stream.

The last drops of Melanie’s pee fell from her pussy crack and landed in the small puddle still sinking into the pages of the book placed directly under her wide, rounded buttocks. With disappointment her fantasy vanished replaced for the need to answer an even more pressing desire than her urge to pee had ever been. Collapsing to the carpet at the side of the piss soaked books, Melanie urgently started to pump away with two fingers inserted deep inside her love hole. Her orgasm flooded over her almost immediately, such had been the fuel of her passion created by her midnight pee. Her soft moans rose momentarily to a crescendo as she came whilst ecstasy racked her brain as her world exploded in bliss. Now the only sound in the room was her panting breaths as she fought for air once again. A wonderful state of euphoria was filling in both her body and soul such had been the power of her orgasm. Finally she managed to drag her sweat stained body back to bed where she immediately collapsed into a deep and fitful slumber free from the torment of more piss fantasies.

The next morning Melanie woke to the calls of birds and the sound of light traffic coming from the street outside her partly opened windows. She lay awake staring at the ceiling for some time trying to recall why she felt so incredibly calm and at peace with the world. Memory of her nightly deed slowly flooded back to her and with a start she sat upright in bed and stared over to the side where she had carried out her naughty deed. Surely enough there were the books laid strewn in a large pile over the floor. Even from the bed she could clearly see the yellow stains marking the pages where her urine stream had played all over them as she had enjoyed her pee in the night. Part of her was horrified at what she had done. How could such a normal, quite girl like herself have possibly carried out such a deed? The memories of the images from the web came flooding back and she could feel her cheeks reddening as she remembered her dreams and then the fantasy she had made in her head at the very same time she was still taking a leak all over her Library books.

Melanie climbed out of bed and wandered over to the books. At the very back of her mind was a tempting voice urging her to even now, squat down over the books and relieve her morning kıbrıs escort pee all over their already urine soaked pages. ‘What possible difference would it make?’ the voice asked. Melanie shook he head trying to dispel the images. Squatting down she hurriedly started to close the books and started to stack the offending items in a growing pile. Once finished she hurried to the bathroom. She was still naked, her Nightshirt still on the bedroom floor where it had been left when she gone to pee over the waiting pages of the Library books. Being naked, even if just in her own house, was making Melanie once again very horny. Entering the bathroom she stuck her head inside the shower cubicle and set it to start running. Whilst waiting for the water to warm, Melanie stared at the toilet. The lid was closed, almost as if to say ‘out of use’. She did need to pee, her bladder’s usual supply of morning piss eager to be released. With a shake of her pretty head, Melanie dismissed the idea of using the toilet to have her pee. Instead she opened the shower cubicle door and stepped inside.

Deliciously hot water started to flow over her naked flesh as she entered the stream pouring down from the shower head above. The warm wet embrace moved around her body, running over her tits and between her legs just as she then started to pee. Immediately her pussy hole started to emit a new stream of heavily yellowed urine, flowing fast from her lower lips to join with the shower water pouring into the drain below. Peeing in the shower was something Melanie had never dared do before. She had always been too prim and proper even at school when the other girls had been so blatant about it. Images from her youth flooded through Melanie’s brain as she continued to pee. As the golden stream squirted away from her triangular shaped muff and mixed with the shower water, she recalled the sight of seeing the other girls openly peeing in their cubicles. One girl in particular had been very naughty, deliberately squirting her piss out of the shower so that her flowing fountain of urine had pattered over the tiled floor lining the gap between the cubicles. At the time Melanie had been horrified and disgusted at the sight. Now, peeing in the privacy of her own shower cubicle, Melanie thought it was a wonderful idea.

Once she had finished her early morning pee, Melanie enjoyed the rest of her shower. It was then time to dress and grab breakfast before making ready for work. Butterflies were dancing as she made her way down the road and towards the bus stop. For some reason the dream she had the night before about peeing in her panties during the ride to work, had come flooding back to haunt her. When the bus finally arrived, Melanie darted to the back seat and plonked her wide firm buttocks down on the seat. This was completely unlike her dream where she had been standing in the aisle. If nothing else that day, Melanie had no intention of allowing her secret fetish to become public knowledge. This was not say that she didn’t intend to wet her panties that day. In fact that was quite the opposite. The only difference being was that Melanie had a very definite setting in mind for the act she had every intention of carrying out later that day.

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This story does involve bodily functions and humiliations so those offended by these topics should read no further. All characters are 18 or over.

*****

Linda Crawford noticed that student behavior in her classes—both the majority, which were all boys, and the one all-girls class—seemed much improved of late with all pupils very careful to avoid being seen chatting with one another during class nor doing anything else to elicit the strict punishment from their teacher for which Hamilton Hall, a prep school for university, was famous.

Linda, a charming-looking lithe blonde in her late 20s, had been the first female teacher hired by the very traditional school, which unlike most others and because all of its pupils were at least 18, eschewed the lax discipline of most U.S. schools and favored use of corporal punishment. Each master or mistress had a thin cane in their possession; other implements, such as tawses and straps, were commonly used as well.

This term, Linda had been joined by two new mistresses, Joan Wortham and Annabel Lansing. Both had experience teaching in the U.K. and thus with imposing physical punishment. Joan had been prompted by Linda to demonstrate with her to the faculty the use of a form of punishment Joan had learned about from an Indian colleague. This was called murga punishment.

When a teacher used it, he or she ordered the pupil to loop his or her arms beneath the legs (usually the thighs) and grasp each ear with the hands and pull. It was difficult for anyone to maintain the standing position for very long so the teacher usually had the pupil squat to get into position. Either way after two or three minutes, the pupil would be in severe pain and embarrassment.

Joan and Linda became the first two teachers to use this punishment regularly. It seemed easier than either caning a pupil in class or putting them on the Duty List for the Duty Master or Mistress to deal with after the school day. Linda usually increased the embarrassment factor by requiring the girl or boy to lower their panties or shorts before assuming the murga position.

Today, Joan, whose subjects were biology and chemistry, noticed a boy chatting with a girl near the back of her class. She had volunteered to conduct one of the first mixed-sex classes so it may well have been the newness of the chance to speak so closely to a member of the opposite sex that prompted these two to defy the strong rule at Hamilton kırşehir escort Hall that forbid students from talking to one another during a class.

Joan snapped, “You two, you know who you are in the back, you are talking, so get up here to the front right now!”

Deirdre Turner and Ken Nelson shamefacedly walked to the front of the class.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Wortham,” Deirdre began, “I had completely forgotten that class had begun.”

Joan looked at the two of them and said only, “You know that this is totally against the rules. So both of you strip from the waist down.”

Deirdre was horrified that her most intimate areas would be exposed in front of a class of boys as well as girls.. Ken was also upset but more because he felt he had gotten his new girlfriend into such awful trouble. He had seen Miss Wortham impose murga punishment and he feared for the worst.

When both were bared from their waists down, with Deirdre’s plentiful dark-colored pubes on full display and Ken’s rather sizeable 8-inch cock, Miss Wortham had them face the front wall so the class saw only their pale bottoms, and issued the feared order.

“You will assume the squatting murga position,” she intoned. The two pleaded for something other than the painful, humiliating murga punishment.

“No,” Joan answered, “you need to learn to obey the rules.”

The class watched as Deirdre and Ken slowly squatted and slipped their arms under their legs and grasped their ears. They began sighing and pleading with Miss Wortham to let them out of the painful position.

Joan continued her class for a while and then told Deirdre and Ken to stand. It was clear that squatting in the murga position had made them both aware of how awful this punishmentwas.

Miss Wortham now placed two chairs on either side of her desk facing the class. She ordered both punished pupils to get on the chairs on the knees facing front. Both grimaced as their bare bottoms would be facing the class.

Once they were kneeling on the chairs, Joan reached into her desk drawer and extracted two tail-pieces and a small tube of lubricant. She donned a plastic glove and took a dab of lube and inserted a lubed gloved finger into Deirdre’s cute little anal opening. The girl gasped to feel a finger in her most private orifice. Joan proceeded to do the same for Ken, who now had an erection that was stimulated by Joan’s finger massaging malatya escort his prostate.

Then she took the two tail-pieces which had a buttplug at the end and once inserted, an embarrassing tail sticking out. She had the two remain in that humiliating posture for ten minutes and then allowed them to stand, retrieve their underwear and skirt and trousers. They then returned to their seats.

Joan continued her class impervious to the distraction and none of the pupils dared make a sound unless called on by the petite, auburn-haired teacher, who had demonstrated she was not to be trifled with.

****

Later that day, Joan and Annabel visited Linda’s rooms at the faculty residence wing for an after-hours drink.

“I understand you administered quite an impressive bit of murga discipline today, Joanie,” Linda chuckled as she poured some white wine for her two colleagues and herself.

“Yes,” Joan smiled, “I decided that it was a good way to cut out the chatter that these students seem unable to control…until I put a pair—a boy and girl—into squatting murga position.”

“For how long did you make them do that?” Annabel, who was familiar with the British use of cane and tawse but not the Indian murga punishment, asked.

“Oh, I knew they’d have trouble holding it for too long so I let them stand after about three minutes,” Joan answered, “but then I had them kneeling on chairs with the backsides facing the class and I inserted cute little tails in their tushees!”

“How charming, Joanie!” Linda exclaimed. “I have a feeling that Mr. Henderson will be quite amazed at how effectively you are establishing new standards for student behavior here.

“Have you had any experiences yet in administering punishment? Linda asked the red-haired statuesque Annabel.

“Yes, Linda, you busybody,” Annabel grinned. “And I have a feeling you might get a kick out of this one, too, Joan. I had a round of girls asking to go to the girls’ room. When I let two go and they didn’t return fairly soon, I sent another to check and all three returned, laughing.

“Soon, another girl came up to my desk and barely repressed a smile when she asked for permission,” Annabel went on. “I smiled in return and said that she would have to wait for a while.”

“Her face blanched and she whispered to me,” Annabel reported. “She said, ‘Miss Lansing, I’m sorry but I really really have to go. niğde escort She was now pleading in a high-pitched but quiet voice.

“I told her that the girls had been abusing this privilege and she would have to hold it,” Annabel smiled to her colleagues.

“She shamefacedly returned to her seat and soon I heard a little cry and walked back there,” Annabel said, “and saw her crying and a puddle beneath her seat. She had peed her panties. When I told her to stand she told me she had lost control and that she had also done a jobbie in her panties.

“I told her I was sorry for her embarrassment,” Annabel went on, “and told the girl next to her to walk her to the girls room to clean herself.”

“That’s quite a good one,” Linda commented. “You two are helping establish quite a nice image for women teachers here. I love it.”

Joan now chimed in. “You know,” she told her friends, “putting the tails in the bottoms of those two exposed them more because the buttplug tends to get them to spread their legs so the whole class had a nice view of Deirdre’s vulva and Ken’s scrotum and penis.”

“I’d like to try murga again to see just how hard it is to hold the position,” Linda said.

Joan and she stood and the pretty blonde teacher then squatted and put her arms under her legs and pulled on her ears.

“Very good, Linda,” Joan smiled. “Now let’s try to have you walk. It’s easier in the flats you have on. But it will be difficult.”

Linda started to try to walk and barely avoided falling over.

“Wow,” she gurgled, “this is very very hard.”

“Yes it is,” Joan said, as she commended Linda who now had managed to take a few steps and then gasped but renewed her effort to waddle without falling over.

“Linda, you have just performed a more advanced form of murga punishment called ‘murga parade’,” Joan observed.

Linda stood and thanked Joan for her demonstrating the punishment with her.

“I used my variation with the tails based on what I learned from my Indian colleague,” Joan told the two. “This punishment does show how severe Indian teachers have been able to be, although now murga punishment is severely restricted and barred in most places there.

“But when it was more common, my colleague told me,” Joan said, “the teachers would add to the embarrassment by making the older students—18 and up—bend over in standing murga out in the sun and then they might stick things in the exposed anal openings.

“Ooh,” Linda grinned, “those people do put us to shame—even the Brits—when it comes to knowing how to humiliate, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Annabel chimed in, “and I daresay that word will get around that it’s not a good idea to come to class needing to use the toilet, either.”

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Authors Note: Thank you to everyone left comments or sent me feedback about previous chapters of this story. Thank you again to Margaret who proofread for me. ~ellie

*****

The Donati triplets were two months old, and Peri now fed them every three hours rather than four. As they had reached what would have been their official birthday at eight weeks they had become more alert and hungry, it seemed, wanting to be fed more often which she had been managing but was feeling a little rundown. It was at that time that they had flown to Melbourne for Maryanne’s wedding, and Peri had sat in the church and sobbed claiming they were happy tears but feeling overwhelmed with life.

When she had gone back to the hotel suite to feed the babies before the reception Josh had taken control. He had turned to Bridgette and given her several hundred dollars, instructing her to go and buy what she needed to feed the babies for the night as Peri would not be returning until six the following morning. Then he had spoken to her gently.

“You can’t keep this up, and I can’t watch you crash and burn. I want my wife back not this zombie woman you have become. You are a wonderful mother and leaving them with qualified, capable nannies for the night, who know them as well as you do, won’t make you a bad mother,” he said in reasonable tones. “These are my children too, and I know they will be looked after better by the nannies than a stressed out mother who can’t even be sure which child she is feeding anymore.”

She had tried to argue with him, but he had refused to budge on his stance and for the first time since the birth of her babies, she saw the future leader of the Donati family appear to lay down the law.

“I love you, but you are going to kill yourself if this doesn’t stop. You are not an average woman in an average home who has to do the best she can and run herself ragged. You are my wife and the mother of my children. More than that you are the mother of the next Donati table. We need to be here and show our united strength among the Vitali family. They need to know that the next generation of Donati’s cannot be taken lightly.” He said and pulled her close to his body. “I love you,” he repeated, “but tonight can’t be about what we want. Maryanne has married into a family almost as powerful as our own so we will go to the reception, and we will be every inch the future leaders that Papa hopes we can be.”

“Put it in terms of royalty, you are about to become a queen, Princess Peri,” Dante said from behind Josh startling her. Peri realised she was so tired and emotional that she hadn’t even noticed Dante had returned to the hotel with them. “Would any of the royal women let down their king when visiting another country or would they want to put their best foot forward.”

Peri had pulled herself together immediately. She had said she would do anything Josh asked of her when the decision to make him the next Chair was being made, and she knew life as she knew it would be altered profoundly. She had expressed as much milk as she could and gone to the adjoining suite to change into the evening gown Andie had insisted she take with her despite it being totally unsuitable for breastfeeding. She fixed her hair and applied more make-up covering the telltale signs of her lack of sleep. Satisfied that the dress had hidden the baby fat, she still carried she returned to where the two men talked quietly in the nursery.

The brothers had become even closer, Peri thought, and though they both went to work in different directions, they spent, even more, time together with Andreas and Joseph. At home, there had been an awkwardness between Dante and Peri over the last two weeks as they worked through their feeling for each other and Josh separately. They both knew that Josh wrestled with the knowledge that they were permanently bound together now and would perhaps take longer to come to terms with it than they might.

“If she expresses as soon as you get back to the room make sure you refrigerate it straight away,” Madeline said quietly to Josh handing him a small bag. In Peri’s absence, she had packed a bag with her small hand pump and several bottles. “There are some breast pads in there too which should get you through the reception without any incidents,” the girl smiled softly.

“Thank you, Madeline,” Peri said as she put a smile on her face and walked towards the two men who waited for her.

“Well that was a transformation worth waiting for,” Dante said returning her smile.

“You look beautiful,” Josh kissed her lightly not wanting to wear the deep shade of lipstick she had applied.

“Pete said to give you this and not to worry because it is natural and wouldn’t affect your milk greatly,” Josh put an effervescent tablet in a glass of water and watched it dissolve before handing it to her.

They were staying in the same hotel as the reception was being hosted so after drinking the effervescent liquid, they walked to the elevators. The reception was beautiful and while tokat escort the babies remained on her mind Peri relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy the evening and the company of her brothers and sisters-in-law. Andie had accompanied Charles and sat at a table with the older members of the family. Unsurprisingly the vitamin supplement Pete had prescribed seemed to take the edge of her fatigue and the brain fog she had been enduring lifted to make her less emotional. Lucia had dragged Dante onto the dancefloor, and Pete had slipped into the seat beside her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly leaning toward her.

“I don’t know what was in the tablet you gave Josh for me, but I feel great, clear-headed and not as tired as I have been in what seems like forever,” she smiled.

“I gave Josh the box. It’s just a vitamin complex with a caffeine-based extract. Don’t take more than one every couple of days though or those babies will wake up demanding coffee in the mornings,” he chuckled.

“They’re demanding enough as it is,” she laughed lightly, “Their Papa would probably give them anything they demanded so I’ll be careful not to overdo it.”

“Says the woman who can’t bear to leave them alone for more than an hour at a time,” Josh said in his own defence. “They’re pretty damn amazing though so you can’t blame us for doting on them,” his voice softened, and he took Peri’s hand.

Peri found herself enjoying the night but as the evening wore on her breasts began to ache with the unrelieved fullness as she went past the usual feeding time. She found Josh talking with Constantine and Jules and whispered in his ear that she might need the bag Madeline had given him.

“D. put it in the room where the bride and groom’s things are,” he said looking around and spotting Dante talking to Angelo and a few other men not far away.

“You stay and chat I can ask him,” she smiled, “I won’t be long, I’ll do it properly when we go back to our room later.” She kissed him and wandered in the direction of Dante. “I’m sorry to interrupt gentlemen,” she said politely to the small group as she came to stand beside him. “Would you mind terribly if I borrowed Dante for a few minutes?”

“That sounds interesting,” Angelo grinned. “What are you planning on doing with him?”

“Well,” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “I’m on a bit of a treasure hunt, and rumour has it he knows where it is hidden.” She winked making him laugh.

“Doesn’t surprise me, he always had hidden gems around the place, take him if you must,” Angelo chuckled.

“This ship is about to spring a leak if I don’t find that bag Madeline packed for me,” she whispered as they walked away from the group arm in arm.

“You are looking particularly buoyant in that dress, I don’t think there’s much chance of you drowning,” he whispered back but led the way to a small side room where the bride and groom would change before they left for their honeymoon. “I’ll stay and make sure no one interrupts you.” He said leaning back against the door once it was closed behind them.

“I’ll be quick and do a full express when we get back to our suite later. “Could you undo the zip for me?” She asked without thinking.

“Sure,” he stepped forward as she turned her back to him and swept her hair aside. He slowly lowered the zip and ran his hand back up her back and over her shoulders lowering the dress. He’d fantasised about doing this under different circumstances, but the action was real. Unable to help himself he bent his head to kiss her shoulder and neck as the dress fell from her shoulders.

Peri took a sharp breath and turned to face him holding the dress to her chest. She knew that somehow they would eventually become closer even intimate, and she had thought about it often recently. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek and smiled softly.

“I won’t betray Josh or do anything behind his back,” she said softly. “I understand what is happening and know that we will share a great deal in our lives including Josh’s love. I’m not sure we are ready for this,” she admitted. “I’m still,” she looked down at her full breasts lost for words, “leaky,” she gave a half smile.

“The leakiness only makes you more attractive to me,” Dante said equally softly taking her hand from his cheek and holding it. “I would never betray Josh either, for better or worse we are bound together now, and I would like that to be more of the better and less of the worse.” He bent his head to kiss her lightly. “This is no more than an extension of the mild flirting and affection we have shown each other for months now. Betrayal would include using that playroom he created.” His eyes betrayed his pleasure in thinking about that. “Do what you need to do, you are safe with me and always will be.”

He watched as she placed the pump to her breast and positioned it before pumping the trigger. Her nipple elongating with the suction as the deep cream coloured milk filled the bottle attachment. He was yozgat escort strangely aroused by the sight and lifted his eyes from her breast to meet hers and seeing her curious look tilted his head.

“I’m only human Peri,” he groaned. “Josh is the one with all the self-control.”

“You’re doing pretty well in that department,” she gave him credit with a smile. Picking up two fresh nipple pads she placed them over her elongated nipple before exposing the other breast and filling the other half of the bottle quickly and easily. She placed everything back into the bag and straightened up pulling her dress back to her shoulders and turning sweeping her hair to the side so he could zip it up for her.

He let his fingers linger on her skin, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck before he kissed her there as the zip was pulled into place. She didn’t flinch or take a breath, this time, she merely turned to look at him and accepted their first real kiss. It was soft and tender, but she could feel his desire, and she broke the contact feeling uneasy about her own feelings.

“We better get back in there before people come looking for us,” she said breathlessly. She hadn’t considered that he would kiss her with the same passion Josh held in his kisses and it both thrilled and unnerved her.

“You might want to visit the ladies room and freshen up your lipstick,” he gave a lopsided smile. “Do I look good in this colour?” Peri couldn’t help but laugh and reached up to brush her thumb over his lips.

“Thank you,” he said with meaning, kissing her thumb and taking her hand in his own. “Thank you for letting down the barrier that had built up between us since Papa’s visit.”

“We have to go,” Peri said unable to formulate any words in response to his. He opened the door, and they went back out into the reception watched by several sets of eyes including Josh’s. He knew that neither of them would do anything to fracture the relationship growing between all three of them. While he was still not fully enamoured with the idea that eventually they would have a relationship separate from him, he was beginning to let Dante into their intimacy as part of his and Peri’s relationship in little ways to stall that separation as long as possible.

He reasoned that if he did it on his terms, then he would be following the needs and laws of the family, giving Dante the intimacy he craved with Peri and would still maintain control of his wife and her relationship with his brother. He was becoming unemotional about it seeing it as more of a compromise that must be made in exchange for the future he had not thought possible but now craved along with the wealth and power that would come with it. They were the next generation of power brokers and would be a force to be reckoned with and the sooner he took control of this element of his life the happier they would all be.

His world view had changed in the two weeks since the meeting with his father and uncles. He loved Peri as much as always if not more, and he knew his position had been confirmed and written in stone by her acceptance of who she must become for him to succeed. He knew that without her unequivocal support things might have been different. He had spent part of each day with either Joseph or Andreas over the last two weeks, and he knew they tested him and his knowledge on many levels. What he knew about the true mission of his family had been nothing compared to the small amount he had been told so far. He also knew that a trial was before him, and soon he would be asked to make a decision that would either make or break him as the next Chair if he did not figure out the riddle they had given him and conquer it first. If he failed on both counts, they would make the decision for him.

Once again he considered Dante and his love for Peri. If he couldn’t conquer his fears about letting Dante have an intimate relationship with Peri it could very well break his tenuous hold on the Chair. He knew his other brothers would be told of their roles on the new table in the new year, and he had until the family Christmas to work it out on his own or have them inform him that they had made the decision, and he would have no further choice in the matter. While they had not said that the Chair would be taken from him, he knew that his hold on it came down to how well he handled the outcome of this trial.

The only clue he had to the trial he was on was a cryptic riddle that seemed very straight forward to him, and he struggled to work out what he needed to do. He walked over to where Peri and Dante stood talking with Vincenzo and Dominic. In his head, he went through the riddle he now knew by heart.

“Duplicity lies in heart and hearth

Terrifying the mother.

Into darkness and into earth

One-half must sacrifice the other.”

“Hey Dom,” Josh greeted his cousin warmly. “I didn’t think Zio ever let you off that leaky tub he calls home.”

“Yeah, gotta come and get my land legs zonguldak escort back now and then. I heard you started a publishing house,” Dom said. “I’m considering a change of scenery if you’re looking for a hack columnist.”

“Seriously?” Josh asked. “I’d hardly call being syndicated hack work. I’d love to have you on board if you’re interested in the publishing side. I’ve been super busy with the new family and house so it would be great to have a family member there working with the executives.”

“Didn’t think it would be that easy,” Dominic laughed. “Just for appearances sake do you want me to dust off my resume and come in for an interview with you and, what was that guy’s name?” he asked his father.

“Rick,” Vincenzo supplied unsurprisingly.

“I expect that’s probably the more professional option,” Josh admitted. “What about Wednesday, say around ten?”

“Perfect, I’ll have my people call your people to confirm,” he spoke with a perfectly straight face and earned a disparaging look from his father.

“I would be his people,” Dominic’s wife Finola shook her head. “I’ll give your assistant a call on Monday and set it up. I can’t wait to move back onto dry land.” She turned to Peri, “Don’t ever let Josh convince you that life at sea is all romantic sunsets and vast horizons.”

“It does sound tempting when you put it that way, but I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening in my near future,” she laughed. “Life at sea could get very messy with triplets on board.”

“I forgot about that you look so great!” Finola said earnestly. “Come and tell me all about them while I find another glass of wine.”

“Tell the truth,” Dante smirked, “Was it the wife’s nagging or did your father finally kick you out of home.”

“A little bit of both,” Dominic answered in a deadpan tone. “Seems as good a time as any for a change. Have you caught up with Larry yet? I here he is considering giving up the racing leathers to start a custom bike shop.”

“Yeah the seconds have corralled a table over in the corner,” Josh said.

“That’s my cue then,” Dominic winked and walked over to where they all sat.

“No good can come of that,” Dante looked over to where Dominic had joined the table. “The current table all making an appearance with all of the second sons. Are we trying to make a point or something here?”

“Ah there is Manuel, excuse me, boys,” Vincenzo said and left them where they stood not even acknowledging the question.

“Peri managed to express okay?” Josh asked coming back to his reason for coming over to where his brother stood.

“Yeah I offered to be the pump for her, but she declined,” Dante teased.

“You should have, you’ve been practically obsessed with her tits since she started breastfeeding,” Josh said quietly taking Dante by surprise.

“Well, you could have told me that before she got that little pump out,” Dante made light of Josh’s words unsure of how to take them. “Watching that pump was almost as good, that clear plastic lets you see how the nipple gets stretched out by the suction.” He waited to see what reaction he would get. He’d teased before but this went slightly beyond that, and he half expected Josh to get mad.

“I don’t think I have ever seen her use the hand pump before,” he mused. “Just the electric one at home but its cups aren’t clear like that. Maybe I should get more involved in the process,” he grinned. “Relax D. this is something we all want right?” Josh clapped Dante on the shoulder. “Sometimes you just have to pull the band-aid off fast. I assume this is one of the trials we must overcome before Christmas or have them reappraise the situation.”

“The only trial I was given was to try and pre-empt your needs and help you with an enigma that bothers you. The thing is I don’t have all of the information, and I think that is the point they were trying to make. The idea that I am supposed to know you as well as I know myself was paramount over everything else I was told. It’s my relationship with you and not Peri that matters to the future of the family.” Dante seemed to think about his words. “With Lio it was different, we shared everything from the time we shared the same womb. Now I have to find that sense of symbiosis with you.”

“I never really had that with Nik. She shared my stuff not because I offered but because she took it,” he smiled. “We were close when we were young but never like you and Lio. She needed me to defend her when she was shitty to you all and be that barrier, but I would have done that for any of the girls. The difference was and what you all saw was that she claimed it as her right, and I willingly gave it because we were twins. We never had that symbiotic relationship that you or the Valentine brothers have. Ours was more parasite and host. I was always trying to hang out with you guys when I was younger, but you all had each other, and I had Nik.”

“Poor little Wah-wah. The way I remember it everyone was always fighting over who was going to hang out with you because we wanted to not because we had to. There was no drawing of straws or rock, paper, scissors, you dumbass. Get off that pity pony and get into bed with me,” Dante laughed, “I’ll show you symbiosis.” Josh cocked an eyebrow at the phrase his brother had used and burst out laughing.

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I have done this trip home a few times from work before. It’s now 6pm. It’s been a long day. I take this opportunity to take a well deserved nap. But tonight apart from the usual bumps and sounds of the train running along the tracks, there was largely quietness in the half filled train. At the next stop a lady in her thirties is speaking on her mobile enters and sits on the opposite side facing me. She speaks in a foreign tongue. She sounded a little agitated as she spoke. She looked foreign. Very attractive looking. She was small in stature. She was wearing a short dress. I watched her as she spoke. She was elegant but wasn’t too happy at the person at the other end. She was angry at her husband or boyfriend judging by her expressions. I listened to her a few more minutes then drifted to sleep.

I approached her and greeted her in Spanish.

“Como Estas.”

She looked up at me and smiled. Yes I was right she is Spanish speaking. She must be from South America. I learned a little Spanish, as at work I often meet Spanish speaking people. So it was handy knowing just the basic greetings. At least it sort of breaks the ice as they say.

I sit down next to her and ask if everything is OK. She smiled at me. I melted as I stared into her beautiful eyes. Astonishingly she reaches out and touches me on my thigh. My groin awakes and I feel myself growing.

“Do you want me?” She whispers in English.

My looks said it all. She begins to stand up and proceeds to slowly strip. I looked around the train and people were beginning to take notice. I feel nervous. She removes everything except her sexy pink panties. I could hardly contain my excitement.

She then faces me and sits on my lap. urfa escort Wrapping her arms around my head she begins to kiss me. By now I was as hard can be. I am sure she feel the hardness poking into her as she passionately kissed me. Her perfume was turning me on but it was her natural body scent that was mesmerizing me. That smell of a beautiful woman. Her breasts small natural and perky looked delicious. I touch them and proceeded to suck on her stiff hard nipples. She starts to moan. I groped her while licking her all over. I never knew Spanish speaking women were so hot. Then she gets off me and guides me to lie down on the seat. I can see everyone watching now. It was really arousing me.

She stood there and removes her panties. My god she was stunning. She had an amazing figure. Her pubic hairs were neatly trimmed. Then she comes over to me. My heart goes crazy. My mind in ecstasy.

As I lied there, she comes on top of me in the classic 69 position. I look up and see her pussy and anus. I can smell the different pungent musky odor. I part her pubic hairs to expose her protruding labia, then spread her pussy lips wide open. The highly erotic image of her vulva appears. It’s surface creamy, wet and crusty. Dirty.

I hear her talking in Spanish. I wished I knew what she was saying. Then I feel her pulling my hardness out at the other end. Then the warm sensation of her sucking me in her mouth. I was in heaven as I examined her while she worked on me. I brought her close, my nose touches the moist surface of her anus. I inhale the odor. It was incredibly erotic.

Then I proceed to lick her out. The different musky smells were playing with my mind and senses. Her taste, different sivas escort from other women. I licked and sucked her juices like a possessed animal. I was highly aroused now.

She the sits up and starts to ride my face. Slowly at first then quickly. She moans in excitement as she deliberately massaged my face with her pussy. She rolls her head in sheer pleasure, licking her lips and rolling her nipples between her fingers as she rode me quickly to orgasm.

People were all watching quietly. The only sounds were the delicious sound of her excited moans and the sound of the train on the tracks. She orgasms. She speaks out loud in Spanish as it washes over her. I sense myself wanting to cum. She senses I was needing relief. She gets off me and I sit up against the seat.

She then sits close to my right and begins to passionately kiss me. She was absolutely hot. Experienced. Her right hand lightly teases me and massages my testicles. The warmth of her hand incredible. She starts to moan excitedly. I glimpse at everyone watching us. They watched in silence. I was so turned on by their eyes. And so was she.

She begins to lick her palm whilst staring at me and rubs the saliva over the swollen head. She twists her hand firmly. I groaned in pleasure. Then pumps her right hand quickly. I was in heaven. My mind explodes with pleasure. I was enjoying her technique and experience. If her husband or boyfriend knew what she is doing now they would be angry and mortified. She repeats the same for a little longer. I looked at her beautiful face. She was whispering words in Spanish. Her excited moans was getting to me. I close my eyes to enjoy her. She senses my approaching orgasm.

Then tekirdağ escort she bends over and spits hard at the wet engorged head, twisting the thick liquid firmly before pumping her hand extremely fast. Oh my god I pump my hip rhythmically to her right hand. I hear her breathing pick up. I hear her excitement and enthusiasm. She was really enjoying it. She moans and talks in Spanish as she masturbated me.

“Oh yah! oh yah!”

She moans in her high pitched Spanish English accent.

I moan loud as my orgasms approaches. This was incredible. I am in love with Spanish speaking women. Her handjob becomes frenzied. The loud sound of her stroking audible in the train carriage. Her hand becomes a blur. Her moaning gets to me. I start to cum. I throw my head back and side to side in absolute pleasure. My cum explodes everywhere. She squeals out in Spanish as she continued masturbating me fast. My god I was really done now, as I grab her hand to stop her. But she deliberately pushes it away before slowing down. The sexy look on her blushing face unforgettable. She was incredibly amazing. Experienced.

I see a man approach the seat. His penis hard and erect. He sits down and grabs her hand. But she pushes him away, then gets up and dresses quickly, before casually walking off as the train stops at the next station.

I open my eyes and I am sitting at the opposite side of the carriage like before. Most of the people have gone now. My mind in disbelief. My groin still pulsating. That was an incredible dream I thought. But as the train stops at the next station I get up to leave. As I walk past the seat on the other side, I noticed the messy semen splashes scattered around the seat. My god, it wasn’t a dream after all. I smell my fingers and then realise, I was with her, this woman. It did all happen. Since then I have a new found desire for Spanish speaking ladies, in particular this lady. But I was never to see her again on this train.

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Once again I tried to take this monster cock in my mouth with no luck.

“Well,” Mark stated, “If she can’t suck it, then she can fuck it!”

He effortlessly spun me around and placed his glistening cock at the entrance to my anus, and said, “Ok sissy, ask Angel’s permission and beg me to fuck you and it better sound sincere or you can count on getting those two-hundred blows from Pam, which I’m sure she is dying to give you!”

“Please say no,” Pam encouraged me, I need the practice.

I gave up. I was broken and they knew it. I decided to let them do with me, what they want.

“Please, Angel,” I pleaded, “Let Mark fuck me with his big cock. I need it, please!”

“Of course darling,” Angel said in a teasing voice. “Who am I to stand in the way of my little sissy’s happiness?”

“Please Mark,” I begged. “Please fuck my little man-pussy with that beautiful black dick. I want it, I need it sooo bad!”

“Ok bitch,” Mark answered, “But hold on tight cause you’re going for the ride of your life. After me, you’ll be able to take horses and bulls. You’ll long for black cock, dream about it, beg for it!”

With that he thrust his cock deep inside my ass. At first, I felt faint. My head was spinning and I felt like I was being torn in half.

I might have kırşehir escort blacked out for a minute of so, then I became aware of his rhythmic assault upon my lower intestinal track.

I relaxed, completely submitting to his pounding. Then a strange thing happened. As his huge cock massaged my prostate gland through the thin membrane separating it from my rectum.

I felt a pleasurable feeling growing inside my cock and balls.

Oh my god! He was making me cum. I was his faggot bitch, responding to his cock’s manipulations. I could comments coming from the others in the room.

“Look at that little sissy go!”, “She loves it!”, “I think she is going to cum!”, “Looks like Mark turned him into a fucking faggot!”

Fuck them! I didn’t give a damn what they said; I was too much in my own pleasure zone to care.

Then I heard and felt Mark coming deep inside me. I was coming too! I thrust back to meet his strokes. Our duel orgasm seemed to last forever.

Finally he collapsed on top of me. I couldn’t move. We laid there, his cock slowly shrinking inside me.

I lay beneath his big black body feeling my own sticky cum against my stomach, cock and balls as it rubbed on the marble floor.

I could faintly hear cheers and malatya escort applause from the group and we both recovered.

As I regained my senses I could hear Angel’s moans of pleasure. I looked over to see Alex sitting on the couch with Angel sitting on his cock facing me.

She was bouncing up and down like a kid playing with their “Bouncy Ball”. She was making a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a squeal.

She smiled at me and said, “Maybe I will marry you. I can see this marriage could have lots of advantages.

I was flooded with mix emotions, excitement, jealousy, shame, pride, confusion, just to name a few.

As I contemplated these thoughts, hypnotized by the sight of my fiancée cuckolding me before my eyes I noticed they both were about to climax.

I had never seen Angel climax before due to the fact that we had decided to not have sex until after the marriage.

He climax was amazing! It seemed to go on and on without end. Her groans, echoed through to room and halls of the house. Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep and rapid.

After they both recovered, Angel smiled at me and beckoned me with her index finger saying, “Come over here cucky and clean us up. This will be a regular job for niğde escort you from now on. You might say, it’s the icing on the cake.”

I crawled to where they were sitting and saw copious amounts of cum dripping down from their genitals.

“First lick him clean, then me'” Angel ordered.

I took his flaccid cock in my mouth and started my clean up duties.

“That’ right,” chided Angel, “Clean it real well, and then thank him for fucking your fiancée and giving her such a wonderful orgasm.”

After cleaning his dick and balls I said, “Thank you for fucking my fiancée and making her cum so hard.”

“Good boy,” Angel added, “now me. First lick my thighs and pussy lips, then you can put your tongue deep inside my pussy and try to get as much out as possible.”

She laughed and said,”We bear-backed and I’m not on any kind of birth control, so unless you want to be a nanny to little black baby, you had better do a good job!”

Once again this brought roars of laughter for everybody in the room.

Her last comment made me increase my licking and sucking efforts.

Angel continued to mock and tease me while I sucked her clean. “I’m afraid your little dick won’t do me much good after Alex’s beautiful cock. See how stretched out he has made me? You are pretty good and licking pussy so you can be my little pussy-licking, sissy-bitch from now on, ok?”

I continued licking as I nodded and gave my muffled consent. I knew that our relationship had changed completely and would never be the same again.

I had gotten what I asked for, in spades!

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Annie moaned as Brendan ground his cockhead into her erect nipple. It was her favorite foreplay, feeling her stiffened nipple pushed and prodded by his hard dick. The exquisite contrast of his rigid cock and the silky texture of his dick’s bulbous helmet; It drove her wild. As he continued to flick his cock across her sensitive breast she naturally spread her legs to release the heat that had built up inside of her sex. She could feel rivulets of moisture dripping down her slit and onto her pink rosebud. She reached a free hand behind her back and gently rubbed the moisture from her snatch into her puckered opening, slowly entering the first ring of her asshole and loosening it up slightly with the product of her pussy

Brendan loved it too, his penis was almost a split personality for him. He sometimes felt that what he wanted and the pleasure his cock desired were not aligned. He wanted to touch Annie sweetly and use his body to capture her. In this moment he wanted to sweetly rub her elongated nipples with his soft cock head, not wanting to get too far ahead of Annie, into that place where his actions were controlled by the animal, not the rational. His cock however was controlled by another brain, one that was driven by carnal thinking. It wanted hard, fast, tight, wet, rough, insertion, friction, more, more. It was a constant competition to stay inside of his own head and not in the red light, black angled world of his other self, his libidinous alter ego, driven by the reptile brain between his legs

Fucking her nipple was a place of coexistence for all three of them, her, him and it. Brendan reached between her legs and felt her slick pussy, his middle finger slid sweetly between her labia lips and moved the distance between her slick hole and her clit in a slow, steady rhythm. Annie had now taken hold of his stiff penis and she was driving the action above the waist. She was grinding him into her left nipple in a counter clockwise circle. Flashes of excitement pulsed through her mind, pleasure generated from her breasts, more and quicker, she was aware of how hard her nipples were and she was wetter than she had been in some time.

She could feel the pressure starting to build in her abdomen, she was getting closer. But it wasn’t his hand on her slit that was taking her to the edge, nor was it his finger strumming her clit at the same pace she was using his cock on her breast. No, this was different, and she longed for what she knew it to be, an orgasm produced by her sensitive nipples.

Since Annie could remember she knew what this kind of pleasure felt like. As she awakened sexually, she spent hours at night under the covers of her bed silently feeling her body and exploring what gave her pleasure. She learned first by finding the pressure of a pillow between her legs to be exciting in a way she couldn’t explain. Eventually, she began experimenting with other sensations. She found that her cunny would become wet the more she applied pressure. Over time she learned the pleasure of softly playing directly with her pussy instead of just pillows and ultimately, she had her first orgasm by rubbing her clit with her fingers.

No matter what she did in those long sleepless nights to explore herself, there was one constant; her nipples would become rock hard. In those moments she felt as if they were made of concrete and despite how hard she pinched them, they wouldn’t soften or bend. No matter the amount of strength she put behind pinching and pulling them, she could feel nothing but pleasure.

Drawn as she was toward that unfilled ache in her breasts she would always keep one of her hands pinching and pulling her stiff nips. Than surprisingly, like a new world had opened up before her, one night she achieved her first orgasm strictly from playing with her own nipples. It was a different kind of orgasm, it came from her inner self, her whole core. She longer for it constantly, however it was an event that could not be reached every time, but in those moments, when conditions were just right, her nipple play would take her to the height of excitement that she simply could not achieve from anything else derived from between her legs.

Later in her senior year when she finally had sex for the first time with her boyfriend Jack, she found the new world of sex curious and thrilling and she progressed into her sexual being as any eighteen-year-old girl might.

The urgency of sex as a teenager allowed for little foreplay, instead Jack and the boys that she fucked when she went to college, seemed to be falling and stumbling down a sexual staircase in their headlong rush to …Get… Inside…Her… She enjoyed sex, nonetheless and she took control when possible and steared them to her aching breasts. That’s the way sex was for her at that age, kind of a static, fumbling move towards ecstasy, but she liked the boys and loved the feeling of a hard cock inside her pussy. However, the secret of her nipples existed only in a place within her libido. She feared she would crave that special release for the rest of her life, but remain unfulfilled. You see, she could only achieve nipple orgasm on herself; no boy ordu escort had ever made her cum from nipple play.

Upon meeting Brendan, after graduating college and moving to Minneapolis, she found a free spirit who enjoyed the play-space sex provided them both psychically. She was a grown woman now, 5 foot 5, blond and athletic, with perfect 34B breasts, the kind the French would say fit perfectly in one’s hands. Her ass was strong and firm, with just the right amount shape to it. They loved exploring each other’s body and learning those areas that turned the other one on. They matured as sexual beings and moved past the hurried rush to orgasm that both their previous sex lives had been made up of. They made love constantly, but took their time to learn the subtleties of their mate’s body and every touch, lick or squeeze that pleased them.

Eventually Brendan’s caring, expert hands brought the nipple orgasm that Annie was longing for back into her life. After that, it was Love. They married after a few years and embarked on a life together. Now, ten years later, their lives had become more complicated, but thankfully their intimacy had never wavered. Instead, as things became more difficult in the “real” world with careers, friends, relatives and the work involved in building a future together, their refuge remained the bedroom, it was their church.

Brendan’s own sexual personality was a bit of a push/pull. He wanted to express his love for Annie in the sharing of sweet intimacy and sexual pleasure, but his libido, which he had jokingly named his cock-sense, would often rise up within in him in moments of particular passion and drive him to places that Brendan wouldn’t consciously think to go. This was the part of him that would surprise Annie when he would slide his tongue up her ass without warning in the middle of going down on her. She found him irresistible. He was handsome and fit, funny but not in-your-face, like some guys with that combination tend to be. He was 5 foot 10 with broad shoulders and strong legs. She loved to wrap her arms around his thighs when she sucked his cock, she would get down on her knees while he was standing and draw him into her by placing both her palms on his ass and squeezing in as she pulled him into her mouth.

It was this part of himself, the alter-ego cock-sense that allowed him to dream of foursomes and pegging, of Annie sitting on his face and of him toying with bi fantasies and visions of Annie and him sharing another man. Some of these thoughts were never expressed to Annie, remaining masturbatory material only. Although, as time progressed, their sexual boundaries continued to push further out and now there was even a joking acknowledgement that while she wasn’t bi, he was most certainly bi-curious. He felt relieved that she didn’t find this a turn-off, but just the same, rational Brendan doubted there would ever be a MMF for them and that was ok. What was more important was that Annie and he continue on their journey in this world of sex, stretching boundaries, that they had been on for their entire marriage.

In time, Brendan learned about Annie’s special desire for the ultimate nipple orgasm, about the pleasure it gave her. Annie’s nipples would grow extremely hard when erect. It wasn’t that Annie’s nipples were exceptionally long, rather they were longer than others Brendan had experienced, but they only grew that way when she was totally excited and completely turned-on. Brendan knew she was in that place when his rough fingers could make no impact on the stiffness of her turgid nipples. Upon feeling her pussy in these moments, he would find her flooding with moisture and the smell of her sex would fill the room.

Once, with the help of some Wet premium lube, she had tried to insert her stiffened nipple into the slit at the top of his cock. He wanted it too. They almost succeeded, but it had not happened despite their best effort. She dreamed about that night and although Brendan was capable of making her cum from prolonged nipple play, she was fixated on the possibility of sticking her erect nipple inside of his cock-head and fucking him until she came. They both hoped it would happen one day in the future, and although they never made a conscious plan to get there, they had an unspoken understanding that if it ever got to that point again, they would push through

Now she wanted it again.

Annie pulled Brendan in closer. Taking the head of his cock and firmly positioning it over her nipple, she took her left hand and held her right nipple between her forefinger and her thumb, making it stand even more stiffly from atop her pink areola. Brendan squirted some silicon lube on her chest and she dipped his cock head in it, using it to spread the slippery liquid on her nipples, making them slick, before bringing his penis to her mouth.

She placed his hard prick in her mouth, sucking it in in one continuous motion. Annie had practiced her oral technique and consistently found new ways to thrill Brendan. She took his length as far as she could until it hit the back of mouth. She breathed in and slowly brought his cock down osmaniye escort her throat until his balls were at her chin. Annie alternated between sucking him in her mouth and deep throating his dick every fourth breath. She worked up a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through Brendan’s prick. Her own cunt was soaking from the intensity of the blow job and she could feel her nipples beating along with her pulse. Brendan leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling as his wife of 10 years swallowed his manhood down her velvety throat.

She kept this up for a good five minutes before she switched to working his cock over with her hand. Annie spit on his dick and kept it wet and slippery as she pumped it with her right hand, imitating the way he would stroke himself when he jerked off for her. She kept the head of his engorged rod in her mouth as she pistoned his cock up and down, swirling her tongue around the glistening cap.

Meanwhile Brendan reached down below her clit, inside her vagina, as his two fingers easily slid in. He curled them up and stroked the inside of her g-spot, her clit tingled from the inside. Annie was gasping, the feeling of fullness in her cunt was matched by the tightness in her mouth as Brendan’s thick cock stretched her lips. She loved having both of her orifices filled; one she controlled and the other was being teased and tested by her mate. Feeling her excitement, Brendan slid a third finger into her to join the other two in massaging the jumble of nerve endings that made up her g-spot. “Ohhh Goddd” she mumbled between mouthfuls of Brendan’s iron rod, “fuck meeee with your hand”… but she had to pull back, she was going to cum too quickly and the kind of release she was looking for wasn’t from her g-spot, or her clit, or her pussy for that matter. She was seeking that other orgasm, the one that had fueled her desire as far back as her sexual memory could take her.

Annie sensed Brendan was close to cumming as well, so she changed her actions again. She reached down and guided his hand out of her soaking quim and placed it on her left breast. Brendan began rolling both of her quartz like nipples in his hands; there was no give to them, they were pushing maximum density. He could feel them throb as they grew even longer and fatter than they had earlier.

Now Annie was ready for more and her mind went back to that fantasy she had wanted fulfilled since the last time they tried to connect her breast with his cock. She moved her tongue towards the slit on the top of his glans and probed it with her stiffened tongue. She could feel his slit opening a little more with each push of her tongue. Brendan kept his mind with hers as she steadily tried to climb inside of him through the opening in his very manhood, but his cock-sense was taking over his mind again. He felt himself slipping away from reality as the cock-sense took over responsibility for his physical self. He was in a trance of sexual desire. Annie had taken him there with her expert cocksucking.

It was working, the feeling of her stiff tongue probing into his penis had him in full fuck mode. The libido was now in charge…What next? his mind flashed…where is she going…must have her…must find a hole…fuck me…fuck her…fuuuuck… His thoughts were coming into his brain in staccato flashes, unformed, manic, but fueled by desire and the unwavering determination to follow the pulse wherever it took him.

Satisfied with her success in opening Brendan’s glans with her tongue so that she could see it gape open at the top of his penis, Annie quickly went into motion. She brought his cock-head back to her heaving breast and placed his open slit onto her nipple, trying as she might to fuck him with it. It wasn’t going to fit, she knew it, but she wanted the feeling of his smooth helmet enveloping her super-sensitive nub. He, on the other hand, was in another place, his cock wanted her in him even more than perhaps she did. Without a conscious thought, Brendan reached down to his iron rod and using both index fingers of his right and left hand, pulled his glans apart in opposite directions, past the point of discomfort, past the point of pain, to the next level. There was only the burning desire to fit it in, no matter the price.

And then it happened, the combination of her nipple, harder than a rifle bullet, the lube, everywhere the lube, and the pressure he exerted on his own member to pull it apart and drive it forward…her nipple wedged herself inside of his cock-head! Both their eyes shot open, as if they been shocked by the same electrical current. They had never been here before, despite years of being together and hundreds of fuck session, they had never been – here.

There was the moment of recognition, it lasted only seconds, but it was present between them as if they had paused time itself. The feeling of awe gave way to a palpable feeling of bliss, both Annie and Brendan felt it and it froze them in that exact place as it washed over them and captivated them. He could see it in her eyes, she had claimed a prize she didn’t think would ever be hers. In his eyes, she saw sinop escort a look of triumph, but also a mixture of pure love and animal passion.

Annie was the first to come back to her senses and she did so with the intention of not letting this moment slip past them. She began pulling Brendan’s cock with her right hand from the root, making sure it didn’t move left or right, but stayed impaled on the center of her aching nipple. Brendan had come back too, his cock-sense having achieved what it had set out to, receded as Brendan’s mind returned to the forefront and thrilled in the delirious feeling of being completely stretched and invaded at the most sensitive point of his manhood. Gaining momentum, Annie kept moving Brendan’s rock-hard staff up and back just enough that her nipple moved inside of him, while not allowing it to escape,

And then it started to roll within her, the nipple orgasm Annie had been fueling for the past fifteen minutes was building up from her stomach into her lungs. The orgasm she had hunted for the past ten years of rubbing Brendan’s cock against her stiffened nipples, the orgasm that had been building up in her libidinous mind for a lifetime was about to escape her body and smash through her ribcage into the open air, taking her and Brendan with it.

Annie’s eyes rolled back, even as she tried with all her might to keep them fixed on the unbelievably erotic sight of her nipple inside of his cock. She gave in and let her orgasm rip through her, taking her over the edge into a prolonged back-arching eternity of pulsating sensation and flashes of bright light behind her minds wall.

She felt her pussy contracting as though there were an enormous cock inside of her, but there was not. As her pussy searched for something to grip, to hold onto, her stomach turned, and a thousand bees burst forth and made her feel as if every pore of her skin was being sweetly stung. She heard a noise in the back of her mind which she soon realized was her own voice, lower, guttural, but strong and insistent, “yes, yess, owwwwwwwoooooh owwwwwoooh yesss..” she needed that noise to fully let loose, but now that it was out her lungs and after she had pushed the last bit of air through her open mouth, she continued to try and make the noise, but instead stayed frozen in a place of no breath, no breathing, no air, no sound, until her body finally caught up with her and she lurched back into reality with the sucking in of air into her lungs

Brendan watched her spasmodic, intense, body wrenching orgasm with awe, while maintaining his cock-heads position and continued to fuck her nipple. He felt the intense pressure of her stiff nipple filling the top of his dick. His orgasm was coming on fast. Knowing that look behind his eyes, Annie reached between his legs and pushed two fingers into his ass. She moved quickly up his tight tunnel and settled on the walnut like bump of his prostate, massaging it roughly. His balls contracted and pumped in a fashion more rapid than he had ever experienced before.

Was that pain in his glans he was feeling mixing with a delirious pleasure? Or was it the pressure of the tight fit on both ends of his groin, nipple in his cock, fingers in his ass, that kept him driving forward? No matter, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to, it was consuming him. He felt a fullness like he’d never experienced before. It seemed as if her nipple was growing ever longer and reaching further down his cock shaft. His penis felt like it was growing wider and his girth was increasing to the breaking point and it felt GOOD.

“Oh My god baby, oh my god baby I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”. He was shouting, mumbling screaming, “imgoingtocumsogood”, his language a babbled combination of fucks, gods and grunts. And then it started, the cum that was pooled in his balls like a shotgun shell waiting for trigger, shot forth. He felt as though it were happening in slow motion, traveling through his scrotum, past his vans deferens, into his urethra, he literally could feel it rushing through his insides on its way to the ultimate release, but as if time had slowed down enough for him to note as it passed each gateway in his manhood on its way out. Urgently, his massive release was now in his shaft, starting at the base of his penis and pushing towards the end. The feeling of pressure started halfway up his cock, but by now it should have exploded into the open air and to its logical release, but Annie’s nipple was presenting an obstacle Brendan had never encountered before.

Defying logic, he bore down even harder on Annie’s nipple as the cum built up behind the blocked head of his dick. Straining under the pressure of his vast cum load with no place to go, it finally found release by forcing out between Annie’s engorged nipple and the sides of his cock head, despite the fact that Annie’s granite nipple was still lodged firmly inside of Brendan’s prick. Cum was squirting from both sides of Annie’s nipple and she watched in amazement at the spectacle. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh”, he screamed in exquisite agony, “ahhhhhhhhhh”. His cum was pushing through between Annie’s nipple and his cock-head, creating even more of an opening than even her stiff nipple had created when it popped into him for the first-time minutes earlier. Cum squirted out from the sides until the pure pressure of the orgasm built up behind her breast forced Brendan off of her and pushed him backwards as if he were being propelled by force.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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This is the fourth part in a series. It is recommended that you read the whole story in sequence.

It is a long and slow moving tale. It is not the type of story filled with rampant sex, It has a has a slow erotic build. It is based on real events and only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

*

Tuesday Night Party

Karen and I walked through the camp just as it was growing dark. It was a wonderfully warm evening and Karen had left her sarong behind, but we both carried towels. Karen had tied her hair up nicely and was wearing makeup and black g-string type panties — It was after all, she said, a party. I of course was naked.

Although she had not taken the plunge into full nudity yet, she was more than comfortable with baring her large breasts by now, and tonight she looked even better as the g-string hid nothing of her bum. Her buttocks were very round, very full and for her age they sat incredibly high. As she walked they rolled with each step in a beautifully fluid motion.

“So, Little Brother,” she asked me. “What goes on at a nudist BBQ?”

“I dunno,” I answered. “Same as any other BBQ I guess. Drinks, lots of yakking and some poorly cooked food.”

“As long as they don’t burn your sausage,” she laughed. “But judging from what we have seen of Val and Rod I think it might be a bit more than your average BBQ.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you notice what they wore today?” she asked. “Val had jewelry on her nipples and Rod was wearing a cock ring!”

“So?”

“So I think they might be swingers or something,” she said.

“Oh, I doubt that,” I said. “Not at their age.”

“Ha, age has nothing to do with it,” she said. “And it stands to reason that a place like this must attract some swingers at least.”

“Possibly,” I stopped and put my hand on her shoulder. “Remember what I said. It still stands. If you are EVER uncomfortable here we can pack up and go.”

“I’m fine,” she smiled. “Really. It’s like Val said; Nudism is about freedom. And I am starting to feel that way. I choose what to show or not show, and what to see and not see. I’m not going to run off like a frightened schoolgirl, I just set my own limits.”

Again I was amazed, and proud of how comfortable she had become with naturism in only two days. We walked on through the twilight, hand in hand.

“Are you and Vicky?” she suddenly asked

“Are we what?”

“Swingers,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Not exactly,” It was not a subject I really wanted to get into. My wife Vicky and I had ‘soft swung’ with good friends on several occasions, but the hard-core orgy scene was definitely not for us.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Karen laughed

“It means ‘ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies'” I replied. “Ask Vicky if you want to know. I’m no squealer.”

We soon found Val and Rod’s cabin. They had rented one slightly larger than ours with a huge deck filled with large outdoor sofas and tables. The deck faced away from the camp with a stunning view of the hills rising beyond the river. Soft lights glowed around the edge of the deck and candles on the tables added a warm glow. Val squealed a hello at the sight of us and raced down the wooden steps to kiss us in greeting. She too had her hair neatly done up and in addition to the rings that circled her nipples she was now wearing a silver belly button stud that had a tiny chain hanging from it.

Rod, standing at the BBQ with a short apron covering his groin, waved his tongs at us. Trev was standing next to him sipping a beer while Karl was helping Deb sort out some salad at the table in the centre of the deck.

I handed over the obligatory bottle of red to Val and we climbed up to the deck.

Deb came forward to kiss us hello. “Excuse the hands,” she said. “Covered in garlic and onion at the moment. Stinky.” She laughed. I was surprised to see that her lovely golden thatch of pubic hair was now totally gone, making her pussy mound look even rounder and softer. I shook hands with Karl and accepted a beer offered by Trev.

Val fussed around Karen, putting a glass of wine in her hand and leading her to a large three-seater sofa.

“C’mon Deb.” She called. “Put your feet up. It’s a barbecue so let the men do all the work.”

Rod had it all in hand so we other three men just stood around him and talked the sort of inconsequential chat that men do at barbecues, with the occasional comment on cooking to show that we were all masters of the tongs when we had to be. Rod had marinated chicken pieces, some exotic sausages, lamb cutlets and scotch fillet steak. All looking and smelling great and all timed to perfection so that all of it could come to the table at the same time.

“No standing on ceremony,” Rod said as we ferried the meat to the table. “Whack it all in the middle and just grab what you fancy.”

We sat around the large table. Karen was on my right and Val on my left. Deb and Trev sat opposite us. At each end of the table sat Rod and Karl – Rod closest van escort to Karen and Karl at Val’s corner. I wondered if they had arranged it that way to keep Karl away from my sister?

The meal was a huge success. We ate slowly and the conversation flowed around the table. Trev had a fund of funny stories to tell and we were all laughing and feeling very comfortable with each other.

Eventually at a lull, Val suddenly said to Karen; “So, day two and you are looking pretty comfy with naturism. Well done, you!”

“Mm,” laughed Karen. “Not that comfortable, I still keep my knickers on!”

“Oh, who cares?” said Rod, “We are just happy that you are comfortable with OUR nudity.”

“I think it’s great,” said Karen. “And if we ever meet away from here I think it might feel weird to see you guys with clothes on. I will always think of you as naked.”

“We look much older with our clothes on,” said Val. “Another advantage of naturism for us. And Rod is right, you keep your knickers on if you want- it’s your choice, always remember that.”

“Well I had no plans to even go topless this week,” said Karen. “As for the bottom half — I didn’t actually prepare that area.”

“Prepare?” asked Karl

“Oh, you know,” said Karen, a little flustered. “Trim, I’m afraid it’s a little too bushy down there right now.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Deb. “That too is personal choice. I got rid of my landing strip today just as a special treat for Trev.” Deb stood up and ran her hands down her belly to emphasize how smooth she now was.

“Its true,” smiled Trev. “I do like the shaven haven now and then.”

“Quite a treat for the rest of us too!” said Rod.

Deb laughed and thrust her hips forward and all the rest of us at the table, even Karen, leant forward a little to admire her freshly shaven pussy. With the thick yellow hair totally gone we could see that although her pussy lips were very small and hidden by her chubby flesh, her clitoral hood was pronounced and only slightly darker than the surrounding skin. And in the middle, just the tiniest hint of a coral pink clitoris tip showed through

“Very pretty,” said Val

“Wonderful,” breathed Karl

“You’re a lucky man Trev,” said Rod.

Karen and I really had no comment to make, but we both smiled at Deb as she sat down again.

“I think I would definitely need to resort to the razor before I went nude,” said Karen after some thought and she looked down and idly ran her finger under the front of her g-string leg. It was the leg closest to me and I glanced down to see the crease where leg joined pelvis. Thick black curly pubes rippled under her finger as she ran it along the edge of her mound. She caught me gazing at her and made a funny face before snapping the elastic and closing off the view once more.

For the next half hour we all sat around and discussed pubic hair and the arguments for and against and each one’s personal preference, and for all that we may have been discussing ordinary hairstyles rather than what we liked to see on our genitals.

Val and Rod were confirmed ‘smoothies’. Mainly they said because at their age they preferred it to grey pubic hair. Karl was ‘all natural’ as he had a lot of body hair and if he tookoff the pubes it would look odd and he would have to go the entire ‘back, sack and crack’ which was too much trouble. Deb was either a ‘landing strip’ girl or totally bare, depending on the mood. Trev kept his balls smooth (for Deb) and only manscaped a little now and then, preferring to keep some hair but definitely not on the shaft of his penis.

” I can’t figure you out, Tim,” said Val, looking down at my dick.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem to have much pubic hair, but you don’t look like you do much shaving either.”

“Oh, mostly natural, ” I said, “My hair is blonde and very fine so I have never had much hair there.”

“I see,” she said. “Your balls look smooth but they are not.” She ran her hand up my leg and cupped my balls. Karen looked on wide-eyed. Val’s warm fingers grabbed and twirled the fine blonde hairs on my scrotum and then ran her fingers over the mound above my cock and through the slightly thicker hair there.

“Oops,” she laughed. “Quick Karen, get him a napkin — a big one!” Val’s touch had brought me to almost full erection and I was struggling to move my chair and hide it under the table.

Karen passed me a large cloth napkin and I draped it over my hardening cock to hide it.

“Sorry,” I said, more to Karen than anyone else.

Karen was silently looking down at my still hard cock, now thankfully hidden by the cloth.

“Oh no,” said Val. “It’s my fault. I am sorry Karen.”

“It’s OK, ” said Karen. “I am sure these things happen. In fact that is one of the things about Nudism that I can’t quite get my head around.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I mean comparing you to textiles,” Karen explained. “Men get erections all the time. If we were at clothed barbecue, any number of men could sit around the yalova escort table with erections and hide them. But your ‘no erection’ rule must be very difficult to maintain for most men I am sure.”

“Well, its more of a guideline than a rule,” said Trev with a smile.

Deb punched his arm. “Shut up, you”

“I see your point,” said Rod. “But at a clothed barbecue people would not accept unwanted sexual advances, would they? Most nudists see unwanted erections as sexual aggression — unwanted erections that is.”

“Unwanted is an interesting question,” said Karl. “It supposes that a man must only become erect when it suits the woman. I for one can tell you that a great many of my erections are entirely spontaneous and beyond my control.”

“Oh I think you can control it if you try,” said Deb.

“Why should we have to do all the trying? asked Trev. “Easy for you women to say. You don’t know what it’s like. And besides, you can lay around the pool and be as horny as you like and it doesn’t show.”

“Oh it shows,” countered Deb, “You just don’t know how to look for the signs.”

“Well,” said Karen. “I feel a little sorry for the men, like poor Tim here.” She put her arm on my shoulder. “Men statistically have erections 10 to 15 times a day. That means that if your average nudist male has no erections he is nothing like the rest of the male population.”

“Wouldn’t bother me if they did,” said Val. “But rules are rules.”

“Guidelines,” said Trev, to a round of laughter.

“So you don’t feel that an erection in this context is aggressive Val?” asked Karen.

“More research sis?” I asked.

Karen explained to the others that she was indeed seriously thinking about writing a paper on naturists, and that all their opinions were of great interest to her.

“OK,” said Val. “For the most part no. Unless a guy is hiding in the bushes masturbating — and very few nudists would do that — I find erections attractive and flattering. Just because a guy has a hardon doesn’t mean he is going to jump my bones.”

“But the intention is there,” said Deb.

“No,” explained Val. “The attraction is there — not the intent. ‘Control’ as you put it before is about controlling your actions. Tim had an erection just now but he did not stand up and throw me on the table and ravish me did he?”

“Damn good thing he didn’t,” said Rod. “That’s our best tablecloth!”

After the laughter died down Karen asked. “So, opinion is divided. Val has no problem with seeing erections but Deb is the opposite.”

“Hey I didn’t say that,” laughed Deb. “All I meant was a time and a place for everything.”

“Again,” said Karl. “It is the woman who gets to choose the time and the place eh?”

“And why not?” she asked.

“Not a matter of who chooses,” said Val.” It’s a matter of time and place. For example, here we are in a ‘private’ residence, there are no minors here, no textiles…”

“Karen’s a textile,” I suggested.

Val looked at me and went on. “No one to be offended as we are all friends, so here is a perfectly acceptable time and place for an erection. Or even a whole bunch of them.” She laughed. “But right now I have washing up to do. Back to reality.”

We all got busy helping clean up and as I helped Val take things inside the cabin I whispered: “Val, are you guys swingers?”

“Oh, ” she replied. “Maybe. Sometimes. Why?”

“It’s OK with me,” I said. “But can you please not freak out my sister?”

Val grabbed my hand and looked into my face kindly. “Relax. No one is trying to organize an orgy. And besides, it’s your sister that is asking all the questions. I think she is a lot more confidant and open than you give her credit for.”

“Yeah maybe,” I said. “But she is my sister and I brought her here and I feel responsible for her welfare.”

“Very admirable,” said Val. ” But I’ll say it again. We don’t believe in forcing anyone into anything. And if I think for a moment that Karen is at all uncomfortable, I will do something about it, OK? Now lets enjoy the rest of the evening, deal?”

“Deal.”

After tidying up we all sat back on the deck and enjoyed the red wine. Trev and Deb sat side by side on a small deep chair. Val sat between Karl and Rod on the large sofa and Karen and I shared a smaller sofa.

We were all quite mellow and relaxed by then and the conversation, though still pleasant, had grown more subdued.

Deb was sitting sideways on Trev’s lap and from where I sat I could see he was sporting an erection that was standing up and rubbing against her hip. His left hand was tracing circles around her bum, occasionally drifting in to let his fingers run slowly up the line of her pussy lips.

Karl had his left arm around Val’s shoulder while Rod rested his right hand on the top of her left thigh.

Karen and I sat apart, but leaning forward, elbows on knees as we sipped our wine and chatted.

“So after all that debate,” Karl said to Deb. “You still think this is not the time or the place eh?”

“What çorlu escort do you mean?”

“From here,” said Karl, “we can tell Trev is excited but you are doing your best to hide it.”

Rod laughed: “Leave them alone Karl. Young lovers is what they are.”

“I was hiding it from Karen,” said Deb. “I’m sure she would not appreciate Trev flashing his boner at her.”

“She might,” said Karl. “Did you ask her?”

“No, and I am not about to.”

“I will then,” said Val. She turned to Karen. “No one is asking you to accept anything, Pet. But would it offend you?”

Karen put her head to one side and thought a moment. “No,” she said. “I really think it wouldn’t.”

“Hey do I get a say in this?” laughed Trev.

“Nope,” said Deb. And with that she swung her legs around to sit beside him and reveal his cock, standing up short but incredibly thick with a very tapered head. She grabbed it by the base and wiggled it. “Whose a naughty boy, then?” she giggled.

Karen laughed at the sight of it and immediately apologized. “Sorry Trev,” she said. “I wasn’t laughing at you –just at the situation.”

We settled back to chat again, but it was clear that Deb had no intention of removing her hand from Trev’s cock, and soon his own hand and snaked down and was gently stroking her pussy, opening the lips a tiny bit and now and again lingering on her clitoris.

On the other sofa, Karl’s hand was now over Val’s shoulder and he was softly kneading her breast, while Rod had moved is hand further up her thigh to cup and stroke her bald pussy.

It looked all very innocent and casual but I worried how far they might go, and at what point Karen would become offended.

“Are you OK?” Val asked her. “I don’t want anything to upset you. We are not going to start bonking in front of you, I promise. We just like a tiny bit of hanky panky — as my mother used to call it – at the end of the day.”

“No,” said Karen abstractedly. “No, I’m fine.” Her eyes were fixed on Karl, whose cock was now standing up in an erection the size that I — and I am sure Karen – had never seen before outside of porn. And seldom within porn for that matter. It must have been easily ten inches long and proportionately thick, rising straight up out of his thick black groin to reach past his belly button. His foreskin was half retracted to reveal a huge bulbous head, an angry purple in colour. I had no idea what Karen was thinking, but it damn near scared the life out of me.

Val followed Karen’s gaze down to the cock by her side, said “Ooohh,” and did what was possibly the most erotic thing I had ever seen. She draped one leg over Rod’s knee and the other over Karl’s, opening her pussy wide for us to see. Then she reached out and took each of their cocks in each hand and very very slowly wanked them.

“Damn Karl,” laughed Trev, “you are gonna give poor Karen nightmares.”

“Oh, I am harmless old man,” said Karl. “You all know that.”

Rod was actively running two fingers in and out of Val’s pussy by now. Trev had a finger in Deb and his thumb circling her clit, while she stroked his cock and reached under to play with his balls. Karl bent his head to take Val’s nipple into his mouth and she sighed and smiled over at Karen. Rod had a below average size cock which looked dwarfed compared to Karl’s, but Val paid them both the same attention, squeezing and running her hands from base to tip on each, although her left hand all but obscured Rod’s cock whereas her right hand seemed tiny wrapped around Karl’s giant shaft.

They were all breathing heavily now, and apart from sighs and giggles there was not much said. Karen and I sat transfixed. My own cock was rock hard and the tip was already wet with precum and I draped my towel over it to shield it from my sister’s eyes. Not that I needed have bothered. Her eyes were too busy taking in the scene around her. Deb caught my eye and with a gesture asked me to uncover my cock so she could see it. She had both heels up on the chair under her buttocks now and Trev had opened her slit as wide was he could and was pinching and kneading her clit. With her hand reached back behind her she was wanking Trev’s cock hard and fast as he kissed her throat and shoulders.

Karen was leaning further forward, gazing intently at Karl’s cock as Val’s hand slid up and down it. Karl now had is left hand on her pussy, flicking her clit with little taps while her husband drove his fingers deeper into her with circular motions.

Val had a seraphic smile on her face and would close her eyes again and again, only to open them and look over to Karen. It seemed that even in her high state of excitement she would not forget her promise to my sister.

Karen suddenly stood up and began to move toward their sofa. I panicked for a moment and tried to pull her back but she turned and smiled at me. “Don’t worry. I am not gonna DO anything.”

She knelt on the deck before the three of them, one hand resting on Val’s ankle as she drank in the scene.

Left alone I looked over to Deb and Trev who were clearly too engrossed in each other now to worry about others. I looked back to the main sofa and caught Val’s eye. She smiled, pursed her lips in a kiss at me and mouthed the words “Don’t worry.”

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

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One Summer’s day I watched through my bay window as the removal men unloaded their van and took all the boxes, white goods and other possessions up the concrete steps that led to the door of the first floor flat next door. The final item that they carried up the steps was a large clothes rail that was bustling with girly garments, many dresses and several coats of such styles that they suggested that they belonged to a young woman.

The following morning I saw the presumed owner of those clothes making her way down the concrete steps to the pavement dressed in a black business suit. A petite slim woman with fabulous long limbs dressed in a tight pencil skirt that finished just below her knees. Her elegant slender calves caught the sunlight in opaque black nylon hosiery as I watched intently every single step that she took in her descent to the pavement.

She wore a pair of fuschia coloured trainers with white cotton ankle socks which suggested to me that she intended to walk to her work.

Her long voluminous chestnut hair, carefully dishevelled, had such subtle rouge highlights that it was not possible to identify whether the colouring was natural or had been introduced by expert hairdressing. The wonderful mane reached down to her small pert arse and as she turned to walk down the hill her profile revealed a ‘drop dead’ gorgeous athletic body. Quite simply sex on legs.

Her beautiful face of flawless northern complexion contrasted with her generous bright red painted lips that threatened to pout and reciprocate any attention that might be given to them.

She appeared to be about twenty years of age. If ever I had been in her league I knew that at my time of life I was now at least twenty thousand leagues beneath it. That being so any intimacy that I craved with her would have to be displaced. I would have to shift the target of my carnal desire to her intimate undergarments that hugged her delectable body. They would be an obvious target, entirely appropriate to this compulsive lingerie fetishist. I wanted to fuck her knickers and her hosiery and lose my load within them as a substitute for her unobtainable delights.

She carried the straps of an expensive voluminous black leather bag over her shoulder and my first thought was to wonder if it might contain a spare pair of knickers or pantyhose hidden inside. She stopped at the bottom of the steps of my house and drew apart the flaps of her bag to peer inside. She pulled out a pair of black leather open toe court shoes with a moderately high chunky heel.

Had I been directing this scene of a movie, then when she withdrew the shoes there would have been a saucy dainty ‘g’ string with elaborate bows to the front and back panels, hanging limply from the heel of one of the shoes. At least it occurred in my imagination.

She lifted her mobile phone out of her bag and she dropped the shoes back into it and continued down the hill.

In another scene of a movie I imagined, I would be her co-worker. I would have the opportunity to rummage through her bag when she left it in the office and went out for lunch. Then I would remove the saucy ‘g’ string from her bag, enjoy it’s texture and photograph it. I would set the camera to macro mode and photograph the bows and the label in those tiny panties so that I might identify the manufacturer or the shopping chain which offered them for purchase. I might have the opportunity to purchase an identical item myself albeit in a larger size. Whilst wearing or otherwise abusing them, their similarity to those of my sexy neighbour would strengthen my conviction that they actually belonged to her.

What compelling information is disclosed on those silky little labels. I hope they will identify the garment as a small or an extra small size. The smaller the better is not a golden rule of thumb but my fascination grows as the size of a pair of delicate panties decreases.

Some women cut the labels out of their knickers. It doesn’t surprise me, particularly at the top end of the market when a pair of knickers can cost fifty quid and more. The label spoils the form. It’s also true that people like to be represented by expensive labels, don’t designers and manufacturers know it.

Some grand designer has gone to the trouble to balance, form, colour, mesh, lace, embroidery, buttons and bows and in recent years apertures in the front or back panels such that the finished article gives resonance to the mushy, succulent content within. A label sticking half way up one’s back hardly does justice to their effort.

I’m enchanted by the smaller woman. What value for money having all that beauty packed into a petite body. Tiny ears, little fingers, slim arms and little toes just seem so ultimately feminine to me and the fact that they will be in perfect proportion is one wonder of nature. Having said that I’m certainly not adverse to a statuesque woman standing as tall as myself.

My sexually submissive demeanour clamours to be the victim of some act of role playing dominance on the part of a sexual partner and the intensity kütahya escort of the submission is always amplified when it is carried out by a creature that could never physically overpower me. That, they may well easily manage as a consequence of their attractive assets or the naughty qualities of their imagination and indeed the irresistible fragrances of various parts of their divine bodies that message a man’s psyche and leave him broken and vulnerable.

Then it is hardly surprising that I have an intense fetish for women’s feet. Delicate perfectly sculptured appendages that have the added attraction of being blessed with an intensity of pheromonal fragrance, almost a second, scented, humid cunt.

In that finite moment when I saw her for the first time, I was hooked.

The following Saturday I saw her from my kitchen window working in her garden. I was longing to know more about her, to have some facts to work with to feed my imagination for when I would be gripping my shaft and pulling myself off with her in mind. Her name would be better than nothing. I longed to whimper that name with abandon as she fucked with my mind and body.

My neighbour was wearing cut-off denim shorts and a black swimwear bikini top, her shoulders were extraordinary, running precisely perpendicular to her spine. Her whole perfect body hanging from that fabulous boney lintel.

Her feet were shod in red crocs and the wrinkled soles of her small feet were exposed as she knelt down on a kneeling mat. Her back was to me as she busily worked with a garden trowel digging border plants into the row of newly upturned soil at the end of her garden.

Her limbs were lean and I was fascinated by her slim arms, noting that with my big hands I would easily be able to wrap my index finger and thumb around her wrist and the two digits would happily meet. I doubted that she could achieve the same feat with my aroused cock.

She had bundled her rich shining chestnut locks above her head in a glorious doughnut-shaped ring and as I peered with hyperopic eyes from my window my mouth went dry when I noticed that the item that she had used to fasten it was non-other than a frothy white nylon knee high sock.

The reinforced toe and leg band were hanging loosely from either side of the knot at the back of her head. I had longed to see such a fashion again since I first enjoyed it in the nineteen eighties.

“You naughty, horny little tease,” I thought to myself.

Little did I know at that moment just how accurate my assessment would be.

I picked up a stack of terracotta plant pots that I had been intending to take out into my garden. I had the intention of making my appearance seem nothing more than a routine. As though I had a purpose to be in my garden and then as a matter of pure courtesy I would introduce myself as her kind and helpful willing neighbour and not as the beast that longed to shoot his stuff into her ‘borrowed’ lingerie.

As I opened my kitchen door to the garden and stepped out, my neighbour was alerted by the sound and turned around to see who was there.

“Hello, you must be my new neighbour,” I politely suggested.

“That’s right, pleased to meet you I’m DirtyDream,” she replied.

She spoke with a European accent but I did not enquire where she was from because I didn’t want to appear too interested.

She didn’t introduce herself as ‘DirtyDream’ she said ‘Dorene’ but that’s how my willing self interpreted her words.

“Pleased to meet you Dorene and welcome to the neighbourhood. I’m Henry. It’s really nice around here, lots of pleasant people, a good neighbourhood, I’m sure you’ll enjoy settling in here,” I replied.

“Hi, Henry. Yes, it seems very nice,” she disclosed.

“Well, better get on with tidying up my flat, look forward to seeing you later,” I said.

“Yep, you too,” she replied informally.

I went back inside, I was glad to have made contact with her, pleased too that I hadn’t overplayed my hand even though I was rather keen to tell her that I would happily fix a washing line for her to my clothes post which was installed on the boundary between our two gardens. I didn’t want to alert her to the fact that I wanted to glimpse her intimate clothing on the washing line.

There was always the possibility that she might put out her smalls on a drying rack as is common these days and even without raising any suspicion I might get access to her feminine underclothing. I was in no doubt that if she did do such a thing and happen to forget to bring her washing in at night some article would definitely not be there in the morning since there was little fencing between the gardens.

Any number of people might be the culprit of such a misdemeanour. It’s simply not the case that one can purloin such intimate items particularly if one might be the sole person with the occasion to commit that criminal deed, thus leaving oneself as the number one suspect. Indeed if any of the other blokes in the neighbourhood felt like me they might get manisa escort there first.

I kept my voyeuristic eye on her as she continued with her planting in the garden. I was busy wondering what the panties might be like beneath her denim shorts, how her labia would look snuggled within them and everything else about her panties style, colour, type of material, pattern and the rest. That she might not be wearing anything at all beneath the shorts or that she might be wearing the matching panty of the black bikini swimwear never occurred to me. Bikini swimwear is made to be seen by anyone and knickers are not, at least not without permission.

Excitement relates to the forbidden. A decent man will go to lengths to obtain the permission to sink his cock into the pussy of a woman he fancies but would never attempt such a thing without that accord. Permission must be granted. Soiling the panties, stockings, bras and slips of a woman in secret often occurs without such agreement. The right is never granted and the incantation of the action never falters.

I watched as Dorene selected a packet of seeds that lay beside her and I reflected on how I would love to plant my seed within her, distribute it across her skin or at least bury it into the gusset of a pair of her soiled knickers or the salty toe of her office pantyhose. The closest relation to her bleating self.

During the following weeks of Summer she never once put out any washing at all as far as I was aware. I became increasingly desperate to discover something more about her underwear. Certainly, it would include opaque black pantyhose and white cotton socks that were part of her work attire. Furthermore, there would be some naughty little nylon knee high stockings, after all, she had already used one as a hair band but there my knowledge ended.

As Autumn approached and the nights drew in, my fascination to discover more of her intimate garments increased in intensity. One night when I arrived home very late and very drunk I went inside and noted that the contents of my kitchen rubbish bin were beginning to hum. The fish skin I had deposited in there two nights before was very ripe indeed. The following day was rubbish day and the bin men would be coming early in the morning to empty the wheely bins in the front street. I extracted the black plastic sack from my kitchen bin, tied the top together and made my drunken way cautiously down the stairs to the front door. I proceeded through it and down the front steps to the street. I lifted the lid of my wheely bin and dropped the bag inside before retracing my steps back to my kitchen.

I was arranging a new black bag in the rubbish bin when it suddenly occurred to me that there might be something of interest in Dorene’s wheely bin. Nylon hosiery has a finite life. There might be a pair of her discarded pantyhose or a pair of her nylon knee highs in her bin. I was a little ashamed that I might have such a thought but nonetheless, my fascination with the woman got the better of me. As it was so late at night and the street was quiet, no one was going to see me lift the lid of her bin and look to see if she had deposited any rubbish within it.

Carefully, I made my way down to the street and when I lifted the lid of her bin, there was a single black bag within it. Reaching my hand inside I extracted the sack, closed the lid silently and stealthily made my way back into my own flat and up to the kitchen.

My hands were shaking with anticipation as I untied the knot at the top of the sack and peered within. The bag was only partially filled and there was a plain white plastic carrier bag with the handles tied together. I pulled it out and began to untie the knot. Within it was a plethora of tissue, cotton buds and make-up removal pads but underneath and peeking out in several places was the unmistakable froth of black nylon stocking. I reached inside the bag and felt utterly euphoric as I pulled it free of the bag. A single leg of the pantyhose followed the bunch of soft material in my hand. I watched mesmerised as I lifted my hand above my head until the reinforced toe of the leg of the pantyhose was level with my eyes.

Bingo! I had won. All that was left to do was cover my tracks. I reassembled her black rubbish sack and quietly retraced my steps downstairs. I lifted the neighbour’s bin lid but I lost my grip on the handle and it crashed down loudly. I looked up to my neighbour’s window and I felt terrified when I saw that there was still a light burning in the room above. The gap between the curtains in the window closed before my eyes. Had I been seen messing about with her bin? With the nonchalance and callousness of a drunken man, I shrugged off any such concern before returning breathlessly to my winnings which I had placed on the work surface in my kitchen.

The varnished wooden surface of the kitchen table was clear of clutter and vacant and seemed like the ideal surface in which to draw out the bundle of nylon and examine precisely this prize treasure as though it was a priceless mardin escort archaeological relic. The pantyhose had probably been removed by Dorene in the bathroom prior to her taking a shower. The white plastic bag in which I found them contained only tissue, cotton buds and makeup removal pads. CSI U.K. would conclude that the plastic bag had been used to line the waste bin in her bathroom.

I unfolded the pantyhose and discovered that they were inside out. I put them the right way. I slipped my hand into the legs of the hose and something stirred in my trousers and my mouth was becoming increasingly dry. There was a sizeable ladder along the thigh part of one leg. With my hand in the feet of the hose, I could see many tiny snags that occur when a woman has removed her shoes and walked around without them. In my mind’s eye, I could see her stockinged feet treading boards and my humble self, in reverence before her kneeling and kissing and worshiping her feet. Adoring her. The reinforced toe and the heel revealed tiny white particles, skin cells that had been chafed from her feet. The opportunity existed to imbibe, a part, albeit a tiny part of this horny fems body. The garment had a provenance which bestowed upon it an infinite value.

To delay the conclusion of an ambition is a human value that distinguishes us from most other life forms on our planet. So it was with my filthy intentions towards Dorene’s unwashed hose. I wanted to savour the moment so I went to my bedroom and placed the garment beneath my pillows and went to get myself ready for bed. The emotive nature of the unexpected turn of events had had an incredibly sobering effect on me. Despite my night out on the town I no longer felt inebriated although I did have a fuzzy head and the liquor had had its way with my libido. As I climbed into my bed it was merely my intention to examine the frothy black treasure and then sleep with the satisfaction that at last, I had something intimate belonging to Dorene that would help satisfy my immeasurable craving for her horny body.

I pulled my duvet over me and I extracted the delicate article from beneath my pillow. I pressed the bunched up hose against my cheek and immediately my greedy nose began to collect the aromas of that heaven sent treasure. An overwhelming olfactory pleasure. That they had been discarded unwashed along with the makeup removal pads summated to a compendium of flavour, fragrance and scent of my absent neighbour.

I fell deeply into sleep, a consequence of alcoholic and emotional intoxication, but when I awoke in the morning the pantyhose were before my eyes still resting on my pillow. The pantyhose were royal. It was too early in the day for me to employ the protocol with which to address, to worship them, so I rolled out of bed and made my way to the bathroom instead. Having done the necessaries I went back to my bedroom and while routinely eyeing royalty on its feather filled throne I decided to make myself some coffee. It occurred to me that I did not want the aromatic qualities of Dorene’s pantyhose to deteriorate. I took a zip-lock food bag from the kitchen drawer and in my bedroom, I put the pantyhose within it and zipped it.

I was still preoccupied with saving the pleasure of my treasure so whilst enjoying two cups of coffee I made myself a spliff with some fabulous marijuana I kept and in that enhanced state I returned to my bedroom.

I love to wear pantyhose while I masturbate. I love to see my cock and balls trapped behind the mesh of the nylon panty. The feeling afforded by their softness and yet restrictive nature of the material raises my excitement to an ultimate intensity. On this occasion, I had no intention of contaminating the purity of Dorene’s hose with man smell and anyway they were many sizes too small for me.

Instead, I put on a pair of knickers selected from those that I have bought for myself. I chose a pair of full cut black panties with a mesh front with a pattern of black embroidery emulating delicate stalks and leaves. There was the usual little bow sewn in the middle of the front part of the waistband.

The label informed that their size was extra large and that they were of polyamide, polyester and elastane. Rather cheap knickers from a French hypermarket chain but nonetheless naughty. The back panel also in transparent mesh was plain except for a little pleat extending downwards a short distance from the centre of the waistband.

I sat on the edge of my bed, pulled the waistband below my balls and with my right hand I firmly gripped my shaft and with my left hand I held Dorene’s pantyhose to my face. I held one of the toes against my mouth and exhaled through the nylon to give it some humidity and reactivate the fragrances of her toes.

The ensuing aroma of nylon and pheromone, although subtle, smelled earthy and irresistible and made my cock grow. My best mate was now as hard as the wooden handle of a coal shovel and the head of my cock grew rouge blue and looked really angry and capable of no good. I released my grip on my shaft but that changed nothing, it needed no support, it throbbed and pulsed in a slow rhythmic manner. The head bowed and rose repeatedly as it responded to the pumping of blood from my adrenaline infused heart. It reminded me of the behaviour of a certain familiar animal in the farmyard. Cock-a-doodle-doo.

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