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 agreement was made between Lori, Erica and Anna. They all loved holding their needs in, but it would be more fun if there was a group of them at school to share the fun with each other, and preferably someplace off-campus so it was less conspicuous. Anna couldn’t help on that front, as she shared an apartment with a couple roommates, and it was already too crowded.

The next issue they ran into was the one they should have thought about first. How would they find other women like themselves? It wasn’t as if they could just walk up to a fellow student or teacher and say, “Do you need to take a shit? Maybe you should hold it for a while.” They had to learn their surroundings, observe for women, both teachers and students, showing signs of ongoing desperation.

As it turned out, their experience with holding to date had more than prepared them to observe their environment easily. A few days into class that week, Anna noticed a young woman who typically sat in the middle of their classroom showing some signs of being a holder that she hadn’t noticed before. Jennifer was her name if memory served, and it was suddenly more obvious than ever that this attractive blonde with amazing curves was a holder. The small wiggles in her seat, adjusting her body, crossing legs frequently, it was all indicating an obvious pattern. She brought it to Lori and Erica’s attention at the end of class, and Anna suggested she could call her to the desk on Friday to “review an assignment” just to watch her squirm, then invite her to come and join them that afternoon for a group hold. The girls loved Anna’s approach, and followed the plan. They were both holding bowel movements in preparation to make Jennifer less uncomfortable, as was Anna. It would be easier to convince this desperate girl to continue to hold it if the three inviting her to a group hold were also desperate.

Friday came around, and Anna followed her plan, watching a very uncomfortable Jennifer about to leave the room, but calling her to the desk at the last second. She was visibly in distress as Lori and Erica walked up behind her, both desperate themselves. The invite was well received, and Jennifer joined the other three in the dorm room as they all struggled to hold on before all shitting and pissing themselves. The group was off to a great start.

The challenge was still finding a professor who was a holder, and preferably single. Anna was on top of this too, sticking around each day in the staff room a little extra to spot any cute female professors she thought might have the same habits as the rest of the girls.

It took two weeks as Anna wasn’t in the staff lounge as often as some of the full professors. Still, she was able to observe the comings and goings pretty easily. That’s when she spotted her. Long legs, athletic body, light brown hair tied into a gorgeous ponytail, and shuffling her legs like something was trying to escape. As the shuffling died down a moment later, she asked another professor who she was, what classes she taught. Anna expected a generic reply, but she got way more than she counted on. Professor Brianna Stone, 27, unmarried, lives with just her cat, and taught 100-level English bursa merkez escort Literature courses Monday, Wednesday and Friday over in Rickman Hall, Room 104. It was like she had gotten the young woman’s whole life story. She might be a perfect fit, but Anna would need to observe her class Friday to make sure she hadn’t misread the signs. She informed Lori, Erica and now Jennifer, who all agreed Professor Brianna Hill should be observed, then an approach created so they didn’t all get expelled.

The next day, Anna snuck into Brianna’s classroom as a swarm of students entered, which concealed her just enough to reach a back row seat to observe. As expected, before the class even started, Brianna looked quite fidgety. This early on, though, Anna couldn’t tell if it was the sign of a full bladder, or a massive shit in her bowels. She decided to observe the entire class, and develop a pattern.

As the minutes ticked by, Anna started figuring out that Brianna was an inconspicuous holder, her needs hardly betrayed by fidgeting of any kind while class was in session. As she talked about famous authors and their peculiarities, Anna barely observed an occasional leg cross or tapping, but as the hour went on, it slowly became more obvious despite Brianna’s attempts to hide it. At one point she sat down during an assigned reading section, and when all heads turned to their books, Brianna very subtly slipped a hand under her ass, and one to her crotch, and held both for over a minute before carefully extracting both hands so no one was the wiser. As she did, Anna thought she heard a muffled fart from Brianna, and had to assume she was holding both bladder and bowels.

The class finally ended, and Anna watched Brianna sit back at her desk, slowly gathering her things, with a look of great discomfort on her face. She was waiting, bursting in her seat, until the students left. Anna tried to delay leaving long enough to make Brianna notice and squirm, which she did, again shuffling her legs at her desk as if something was trying to escape her body and she was trying desperately to prevent it. Finally Anna walked out second to last, and waited at a water fountain by the nearest bathroom, attempting to see if Brianna would bolt to the bathroom. She came out a moment later, still very visibly desperate, but walked by the bathroom with legs tightly together as if the bathroom wasn’t even there. Anna followed loosely, despite strong protests from her own desperately full bladder. Finally, she observed Brianna getting into a grey Ford Explorer, but not before doing a significant potty dance at the driver’s side door as she struggled to find her keys. Anna watched as she drove away, feeling her bladder getting dangerously close to release, and walked back toward Lori’s room where she would report her findings. Though it was more a shuffle now, because Anna’s bladder was literally about to explode.

She finally reached the room, and all three girls were waiting, squirming. Anna walked in, whimpering, dancing with desperation, but the girls refused to let her have her urgently needed relief until she reported on her surveillance mission. bursa escort kızlar Anna described the class and Brianna’s actions as best she could while struggling badly against a bladder that should have emptied itself long ago, and when she was finally done, she nearly screamed, “Please, I need to…!” But before she could finish, pee was cascading down her dress pants and puddling on the floor.

Now it would be a matter of approaching Brianna at the end of next week, when she was likely at her most desperate and vulnerable, and trying to convince her to either come by and hold in the dorm room, or better yet, take everyone with her to her place to start the club off in the best direction possible.

As the following week came close to its end, all four young women were holding their bowels hoping for a really good end result to the week. Finally on Friday, they all left class and headed to Professor Stone’s English Lit classroom. The class roster wasn’t full by any means, which left several seats at the back for all four women. They snuck in with a cluster of other students so no one really noticed they didn’t belong. They found four seats together at the back of the classroom, all four struggling badly against their extremely full bowels. There were regular farts coming from each, but they tried to minimize how much gas came out at once so they didn’t draw unwanted attention. In addition, as they left their own classroom, all four could feel their bladders filling. It would be a desperate hour for all four, but the ends were worth the means, especially since they were about to pull a full professor into their fold, and maybe get a place off-campus to have their meetings and hold away from prying eyes.

As the class dragged on, all four women became increasingly more desperate, all turtleheading frequently. Still they all held it in, waiting for the class to end. It was also becoming obvious how desperate Brianna was, judging from the shuffling and crossing of legs, and the occasional discreet squeeze of her privates when she thought no one was watching. Without realizing it, she had a captive audience of four women all watching every desperate move she made.

Finally the class ended, and Brianna gave a quick assignment for the weekend as the students started slowly leaving the room. Brianna sat down at her desk, visibly uncomfortable, again looking like something was trying to crawl out of her body and she was urgently trying to keep it contained.

As the last of the students left, the four women approached Brianna. She saw them come up, and said in a slightly strained voice, “I was just about to… ugh… head home, hopefully this is super quick?”

“Hopefully,” Anna started, “it looks like you’re in need of something.”

“Oh… ummm, no worries, it can wait,” Brianna lied, “what can I do for you?”

“Well,” Lori said, squirming visibly herself in a way Brianna couldn’t possibly have missed, “I’m wondering if we can help you, Professor.”

“I’m not sure what this is all about,” Brianna replied skeptically, “but I really need to visit a bathroom, so if you’ve got nothing else….”

“As it happens,” Anna said, waving to the other three, “so do all of us, which you can probably see.”

“I can, as a matter of fact,” Brianna said with a desperate wiggle of her shapely hips, “so what does that have to do with me?”

Jennifer spoke up then saying, “We’ve all found common ground in our fascination with this, and we’re hoping you might feel the same way. Maybe we can gather off-campus to share our common interest?”

“Wow,” Brianna said, feeling her poop anxiously poking at her anus, pleading for release, and her bladder pulsing with urgency, “you four are daring. But you know what? I can appreciate that. Meet me at my place, and we’ll conclude our conversation there.” She gave the address out, and the women went to their cars for the short drive to Brianna’s place.

When they all arrived, all five young women were squirming badly. All of them were approaching the limit of their bowel control, and more than a few bladders were already at maximum capacity.

Brianna walked them into her living room, squeezing her legs together as she said, “Welcome to my place! And the first meeting of College Holders Anonymous!”

All four of the other women started laughing hard at that, until suddenly there was a hissing sound, and they all watched as Erica completely pissed herself. They all squirmed hearing and watching Erica get relief.

Brianna, for her part, barely skipped a beat, despite her own severe desperation and said, “And our first order of business, is this young woman’s weak bladder which has now made a puddle on my floor!”

They all started laughing even harder, then there was a loud fart, and Jennifer started shitting and pissing herself all at once as the others watched in tortured fascination.

“Anyone else,” Brianna said, “feel a need to join the fun?”

There was giggling all around, then hissing from Lori as she flooded her jeans, and Erica ripped a massive fart and shit exploded into her pants.

“Mmm…” Brianna said, wiggling badly, “I guess so.”

That left Lori with full bowels, Anna and Brianna with full bladders and bowels.

Lori squirmed badly, but it was only another few seconds before her bowels could take no more and she filled her panties and jeans.

The two academics stared at each other for a moment, both squirming badly, a sudden test of wills to see who would break first.

After a few tense moments, the reality was clear, Brianna had more experience holding her needs, and Anna broke, her pee cascading down her legs, and a series of thick and lumpy logs rapidly filling her pants.

The four now watched Professor Stone, in a desperate dance to contain what they all knew was inevitable.

She squirmed, squeezed, clenched, moaned and groaned, but after less than a minute, there was a hissing as she started pissing her pants, and a long rolling fart as she started filling her pants as the others watched. Her bulge ended up being the biggest of them all, as she was significantly more full.

With five pants full of piss and shit, the women all looked at each other, and Erica finally said, “I’m glad we all found each other!”

“Me too,” Anna said, “this was a good idea, and much needed I think.”

Jennifer and Lori both nodded their agreement, and Brianna concluded with, “Same time and place next week?”

There were instant smiles around the room as all the women confirmed their leader’s request.

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

I lay in our bed staring at the ceiling, desperate to find a way to remove Marcus’s branding from my body. I rolled over and opened the nightstand and pulled out my I-pad. I opened the page to the internet and searched for how to remove a permanent marker from skin. There were thousands of results. I paged through them to find that I had tried all of them to no avail. Then, suddenly, I saw something that I had not seen yet. One site specifically mentioned the brand of marker Marcus had used. It said that the only way to get it off was to use acetone. Acetone? What the fuck was acetone and how would I ever find that?

I searched for acetone. To my surprise, it was the active ingredient in nail polish remover. Well shit, I had a bunch of that. I bolted out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and locked the door. I pulled off the pad above my pussy. “Property of Marcus.” My pussy gushed. Fuck, I thought, he was the most intense man I had ever been with. In fact, two weeks with him was more than I could manage. He fucked with my brain to the point that I was a bowl of Jello the day he would leave. Leaving him for Sam was the break I needed. I could recharge my sexual batteries and get my brain back to a normal relationship. The crazy thing was by the end of two weeks with Sam, my brain was craving time with Marcus. The raw savagery of his domination reprogrammed my brain every time I was with him. Was it a relationship in the normal sense? Well, yes and no. To anyone looking in from the outside world, would call it abuse. In any court, collars, eating food from a dog bowl and branding would constitute a kidnapping charge or even assault. Yet I willingly went back every time and begged for more. What was wrong with me?

I shook those thoughts from my head and got back to the task at hand. I fished through the cabinet and found the nail polish remover. I found a face cloth and doused it. I placed in above my pussy and held it there for a moment, then slowly peaked to see if it had worked. My heart raced. To my surprise and shock, I could see a black smear beginning to form. I placed it back down then began to rub furiously. Within a minute, my branding was gone. I pulled the pads from my back and repeated the procedure. In less than a few minutes my secret was still a secret. Sadly, the facecloth was ruined and I would have to dispose of it before Sam saw it. I hopped into the shower and tried to get rid of the smell of the nail polish remover from my body.

I was now clean and unbranded and horny as hell. I wanted Sam deep inside me. However, I was “on my period” as far as he was concerned. Fuck! My lies were once again causing me issues. I wanted to get laid but periods do not disappear in minutes. I needed to find a different approach. As I dried off, I came up with a great idea. escort bursa I went into my closet and pulled out a pair of tight blue jeans that left nothing to the imagination. Next, I grabbed my white button-down professional shirt. I finished off the outfit with a pair of lace up work boots. I pulled back my long brown hair and put it into a tight braid, which gave me a stern and very professional look. Once dressed, I fished through Sam’s work bag and pulled out his safety glasses and his hard hat. I put on the glasses and adjusted his hard hat so that it would fit on my head. I looked into the mirror. I looked hot. I grabbed a clipboard out of his bag and a pen and made my way out to the living room.

Sam looked surprised to see me. His eyes went from my head to my feet then back again at least three times, then whistled his approval. He asked me why I was dressed up. I told him that he had been chosen for a tool inspection and that I was from the government. He laughed and said OK. I told him that I needed to see his drill pipe and pointed to his crotch. Sam unzipped his pants and pulled out his now growing cock. I asked him when the last time was, he used his drill pipe. He responded that it had been over two weeks. I told him it needed to be inspected and tested. I got on my knees between his legs and placed his cock in my hand. As I did, his cock became rock hard. I told him I needed to find the serial number of his drill pipe and I would have to rub off all the dirt on it. He smiled and agreed. I began to stroke his cock, all the while staying in character. I looked back at him frustrated and said I could not find what I was looking for, so I had to rub it harder. Sam closed his eyes and laid his head back. I barked out, “look at me, this is not a joke. If you fail this inspection I will shut you down.” Sam looked back at me and responded, “yes ma’am, I am sorry.”

I stopped stroking and cupped his balls. I asked him if this is where he kept his drilling fluid. He laughed and said it was. I fondled his sack and told him it seemed very full. He agreed and said that he could not wait to get drilling again so he could release some of that fluid. I sternly reminded him that his drilling schedule depended on him passing the inspection. Right now, there was a question as to if he would pass. I told him it was now time for the pressure test. I explained that I would set a timer and if his drill pipe leaked before the alarm went off, he would fail the test. He looked back at me and smiled. I set the alarm for two minutes on my phone and pressed the button. My lips slowly engulfed the head of his throbbing cock. As they passed the head and descended the shaft, I pressed my tongue against his sensitive spot right below the tip. His whole body jumped.

My görükle escort right hand began to stroke his shaft while my left fondled his balls. My tongue attacked his shaft just below the head of his cock. All the while I stared deeply into his eyes. I applied some strong suction to my efforts, then began to hum. This created a soft vibration on the head of his cock. Sam squirmed and yelled, “Oh fuck.” His comments made me work harder. I could feel his ball sack retracting up into his groin in my left hand. His cock was rock hard. I could feel his heartbeat on my tongue. He was close. I slipped my left hand down his balls and placed my index finger on his butthole and pushed gently. His whole body came forward, impaling my mouth with his cock. He screamed, “NO!” As he did, his body stiffened and his cock began to thump in my mouth. There were two thumps, then a flood of Sam’s warm juices began to fill my mouth.

I locked my eyes on him as he pumped his amazing fluid into my mouth. He looked back so deeply it was as if he was looking into my soul. He pumped seven shots into my mouth, filling it to the point where it began to leak out the corners of my lips. Once the seventh shot had finished, I slipped my mouth from his cock and tilted my head back. I opened my mouth and showed him the gift I had just gotten. He looked at me in awe. I slowly closed my lips and swallowed, then opened them again to prove that I had willingly accepted his seed. I wiped my finger across my lips, scooping up everything that had escaped, then placed it into my mouth. He looked at me and said, “Fuck!” Seconds later, the alarm sounded. I shut it off. I looked back at Sam with a disappointed look and told him his pipe had failed the pressure test. He was not allowed to drill with his pipe until he passed the pressure test. He needed to fix his leaky valve and when he thought he could pass I would come back and try again. I asked him if he understood, and he nodded his head yes.

I stood up, then turned around to pick up my clipboard, making sure he could see my tight butt in my jeans and the wet spot between my legs. I looked over my shoulder to see his eyes glued to my crotch. I took the pen and wrote my cell number down on the paper, then tore it off, gave it to him, and told him to call me when he thought he could pass the test. I turned and walked back into the bedroom and shut the door.

I was so horny at this point that all I wanted was to have Sam deep inside me, but that could not be, not today. I opened the draw on the nightstand and pulled out my vibrator and dildo. I quickly undressed, then jumped into bed and fucked myself hard with my rubber boyfriend. I hit the max power button on my vibrator and within seconds I was dropping over the edge to orgasm. All the while, imagining it was Sam inside me. As I finished, I closed my eyes a drifted off to sleep. An hour later I awoke to the arms of Sam cuddling next to me. I smiled in true bliss.

Once Sam knew I was awake, he rolled me over to face him. He said he needed to tell me something. My heart stopped. Oh crap, this sounded serious. He smiled and said that what I had just done to him was the sexiest and most thoughtful blowjob he had ever gotten. He was amazed at how much planning I had done and how I used all the right work words. He told me that this is why he loved me so much and never wanted to be without me in his life. Tears came to my eyes. I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him sweetly. Soon my sweet kiss led to a more passionate kiss and some very heavy petting. Like a true gentleman, he did not try to have sex with me and asked me when I thought my period would be over. Fuck, once again the sharp knife of deception stabbed into my brain. I told him that I was sure that it would end by the morning.

The next morning Sam called my cell phone from the other room and said he was ready for the pressure test again. I giggled, then put my outfit on and grabbed my phone and clipboard. I walked out into the living room to find him with his pants around his ankles and his cock fully erect. I did my inspection, then placed my mouth on his shaft. This test was not fair as my oral skills were legendary and I knew exactly what it took to make in cum in seconds. However, he thought he could pass, so I began the test. His body quickly responded to the intensity of my tongue. Not shockingly, he failed the test again. Once more, I made sure he saw his liquid manhood in my mouth before I swallowed it. I wanted him to see my complete submission to him.

“Failed again. “You need to wait.,” I said in my sternest voice. Sam picked me up with one hand and threw me onto the couch and manhandled me. He wanted me to know I was his and he wanted all of me, not just my mouth. Sam was not going to wait. His strong hands pulled my skintight jeans off, then removed my shirt in a flash. To my surprise, his cock was rock hard again. He looked down at me and told me he was going to drill and that he was going all the way to “total depth.” My whole inside fluttered at the thought. Within seconds, he was balls deep inside of me. He was in total control. He was on auto pilot. It had been two weeks without my pussy, he wanted it, and he was going to take it. I wanted that. I wanted it as badly as he did.

Sam drilled my pussy as if he were going to find the motherload at the bottom. I relaxed and just enjoyed the ride. As it was his second orgasm of the day, it took a bit longer which allowed me to have a couple of nice rolling orgasms. Nothing earth shattering, just some nice endorphin pumping orgasms. It was beautiful. Feeling his body stiffen between my legs and his cock pumping into my pussy made me smile and never want to let him go. I loved the way he made me feel. I never wanted it to stop.

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

We’ve been together for half a year now. These past couple of months have been amazing for the both of us. Our disgusting sexcapades have never been better. Once we started shitting and pissing together, our sex life reached a new chapter. We make poo babies, shit on toilets together and pee on each other. Of course, we don’t wash it off until seven days after. Heidi and I have been banned from the motel since we keep messing up the rooms but, that’s OK. I have something planned for that.

I went to Heidi’s house and told her we should go camping. She obliged and we bought some camping gear, food and a tent from Walmart. We camped in a dense part of a national park and we began to eat and cuddle under the stars. It was a romantic night. Heidi then asked me a question. “Bruce, can we live somewhere together? I would love for us to move in together so that we can be away from the idiots and bimbos.” It’s true. Everywhere we go, someone makes fun of us. Whether it’s how we look, how we smell, or how we are, people won’t leave us alone. She even cried one time. I promised her we will.

We saved up enough money to purchase a 120sq ft shed, a generator, a bed and two camping toilets. We built it inside a dense part of that national park and made it our home. bursa escort bayan We were proud and happy with ourselves. We have a home.

Heidi and I made out on our bed and we took our clothes off. She got on top of me and began riding me. I slapped her hairy ass and grabbed her breasts and she moaned intensely. While we were going at it, we heard a knock on our door. It was the uber delivery man with our food. I told for him to come in and leave the food on the table. As soon as he came inside, he saw us naked and fucking each other. Repulsed by what he saw and what he smelled, he puked outside and ran away. We just laughed.

Heidi placed her hamburger in her mouth and I took a bite. We moaned as we ate it together as if we were making out with it. Then, grabbed some ketchup packets and poured it in a line on her belly leading to tip of her clit. I dragged a french fry down her body and hit her clit with it. Heidi enjoyed that a lot. I managed to shove ten ketchup covered fries in her pussy and ate it.

Heidi grabbed a mustard packet and covered my dick with it. She then grabbed a hot dog and frotted my cock with it. What a sensation! It tingled and it felt different. She began to clean the mustard off my cock bursa escort sitesi by sucking it and shoved the hot dog up my ass. I moaned and wanted more and she fucked my ass with it. She shoved it up my ass and put her mouth on my anus. I pushed the hot dog in her mouth and she ate it. I farted on her face soon after.

I told Heidi to turn around and began to pour coca cola in her ass. She moaned a little until I began shoving corn dog nuggets in her ass. She started squirming and begged me to let her shit it out but, I told her to hold it. The fizz in her ass must be getting to her. I spanked her ass and told her to let it go in my mouth. Her Nathan’s enema shot into my mouth and I ate all of it. Her farting was loud and it turned me on. My cock was rock hard.

Heidi laid on the bed with one leg up. “Come here my fat disgusting hunk of a man. Ravage my wet and nasty pussy and fill me up.” She said. I got on the bed and rammed my hard stinky cock inside her. As I was fucking her, we slobbered our lips together. I kept going and going until she grabbed my head and pulled me close. Someone heard our fucking and looked inside our shed. It was a random couple. The woman screamed while the man began dry heaving. All they saw were two nasty people fucking each other covered in food and soda. The stench burned their nostrils and eyes. I looked at them angrily, “Hey, I’m fucking here! Can’t you see that I’m shoving my cock inside my nasty slob of a woman?!” I yelled. Heidi looked at the woman, “Look at me you bimbo! My pussy is being fucked by a real man!” The man and the woman tried to run away but, the shaking of the shed moved the table and generator and blocked the door. They were trapped. All they could do was watch us. I began sweating, farting and grunting. I was getting close. Heidi was moaning loudly, sweating and farting. “Here comes the sweet release!!!” I yelled. “Yes, yes, yes!!! I’m cumming!!!” Screamed Heidi. I cummed hard inside Heidi and Heidi peed all over my dick. The helpless couple were coughing and gagging at the sight of us. They passed out from the sight and the stench.

We threw them out of our shed and we went back to eating our food and drinking our sodas while watching our favorite hentais. After that, we sat next to each other on our camping toilets and shitted together while watching the full moon. I thought it was a good time as any. I got on one knee in front of Heidi as she was shitting.

“Heidi, will you marry me and make me the happiest ugly man in the world?” I pulled out a cherry ring pop.

Heidi, with tears in her eyes, said, “Yes, a thousand times yes!”

We kissed while we were shitting together. We’re going to be the happiest disgusting couple ever!

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

This story includes themes of first time sex, consensual cuckolding, bi oral, penis size comparison, interracial sex, and breeding and intentional interracial impregnation. If any of these themes would reduce your enjoyment of the story, please click away now.

Everyone having sex in this story is an adult.

⁂

“Tell me again.”

And Ayesha started the story for beyond the hundredth time. Richard loved hearing it and she enjoyed telling it. She’d enjoyed the experience itself more. But she was happy to share it with Richard. He was her husband after all.

“It was my 18th birthday present to myself and from Oliver…” She started.

She described Oliver in relation to herself. Her head didn’t reach his shoulders, which were huge and muscled. Her skin was a dozen shades lighter than his rich onyx tones. They had the same black hair but hers was long and straight, while his was short and tightly curled.

Of course, what Richard really wanted was her description of his cock. He knew it was long and thick while his own had hardly changed when he reached puberty. Richard took an intense pleasure from knowing that Ayesha’s first sexual experience had been with a large man with a large cock.

“He accompanied me to the clinic, so we could both be tested and I could get my prescription.” She continued. “Of course, we were both clean and I took my pill every day. I didn’t want a baby at just 18, especially from a man who could never be with just one woman.”

Of course, what Richard wanted was a woman who’d willingly be with other men. They’d been talking about if for about a year. Ayesha wasn’t opposed to it but wasn’t really sure what was in it for her.

“That first time was so gentle and special. He spent a lot of time of foreplay and he let me go on top, so I had maximum control. It was amazing and I came twice before he filled me with his cum.”

This was Richard’s favourite part of the story. He liked to imagine Oliver’s semen spurting against Ayesha’s cervix and his sperm swimming through the tiny gap in search of her egg. He loved the thought of licking out the remaining cum. And he dreamed about Ayesha’s Bangladeshi belly swelling with Oliver’s black baby.

Oliver had been her first ‒ and, she confided ‒ her best. But she hadn’t slept with another man since they’d got together in the last term of university. She’d had other lovers at university: a handful of one night stands and several boyfriends who’d each lasted several months. But she’d found a soulmate with Richard. A soulmate with minimal manhood and a desire to be cuckolded.

She’d never indulged the desire in reality but they’d fantasised about it since their first bedtime experience. Like Oliver, Richard excelled in foreplay, especially oral. Unlike Oliver, Richard would never be able to get a job as a porn actor. He didn’t have what the audiences wanted.

When she finished the story, Richard enjoyed hearing again how Oliver’s cum leaked into her knickers as she walked home from a long weekend in his bed.

It was Oliver’s offer to all the girls in the area. If they waited until they were 18 then he’d give them an introduction to sex that they’d love for their whole lives.

Not every girl waited but those who did had a very special experience to treasure forever. Not all of them could find the same satisfaction they achieved with Oliver when they found a partner. Oliver’s combination of masculinity and compassion was exceptional. He strived hard to ensure he gave every 18 year old woman an exceptionally enjoyable sexual initiation.

⁂

The next morning, Ayesha was making her daily call to he mum, Fatima. Ayesha felt that she had to keep in contact because she knew that her parents were disappointed that she’d married an English man. They’d have preferred if she’d married a boy from the same part of Bangladesh they’d come from. Or a Bangladeshi boy. Or at least a Muslim boy.

So, the least she could do was keep in contact and reassure them that her life was going well. So, she’d talk about how she’d converted Richard to a vegan diet and was about to be promoted to the management track at work. And her mum would let her know what was going on at the mosque, which meant in the community she cared about.

Ayesha was about five minutes from the office when she noticed a call from Esther and apologised to her mum, saying she had to take a work call. Esther wasn’t work, though. Esther was the girl who’d told her about Oliver. She’d been with him about three months before her. It was a strange connection but they felt a bond that went beyond anything bar marriage.

“I have to tell you something, Ayesha. It’s good news, so don’t worry. But you’ll want to concentrate on it after you hear it, so send me a message for a good time to speak later. We’ll need at least half an hour. Maybe more. And Richard can be on the call.”

Ayesha liked the idea of good news. And good news from Esther would probably not be about career or finding a new home. So her mind was awash with positive possibilities bursa escort all morning, as she explained risk profiles to her manager’s manager.

“You did really well,” Thekla told her when they left the meeting. Thekla was a supportive manager. Ayesha liked the way Thekla’s bronze olive leaf jewellery rested on her olive toned skin. And, of course, Thekla had a golden wedding ring on her left hand. She’d been married for seven years.

“You can be a bit too intense sometimes, which can trigger a VPs’ antenna. But you pulled back there and let the writing do the talking. Really well done. I don’t know what it was but see if you can do that again at the next quarterly update.”

Wow! Who knew that being distracted could have such a positive impact?

As she came back from M&S with her lunch, she arranged for Richard to stay home instead of going to his darts evening. Then, she confirmed to Esther that they’d both be available. She was really distracted and decided that they’d be eating last night’s leftovers instead of cooking.

⁂

“I’m pregnant.” Was the news from Esther, with Joe holding her hand as she gloated it over the video link.

“And the best bit,” Joe continued. “Is that I’m not the father.”

Richard and Joe had never met in person but they both had a lot in common. Well, two things in common. They both celebrated the sexual success of their wives. So far, Ayesha hadn’t cuckolded Richard but Esther and Joe lived in London, which meant access to so much more choice. Joe was pretty smug about how often he was cuckolded.

Ayesha and Richard both congratulated them and wanted to ask for details. But Ayesha squeezed Richard’s hand below the table and took the lead with a question that would let the couple disclose what they wanted in the way they wanted.

“When did you find out?”

“Oh, we knew about a week afterwards. Everything went like we planned.” Esther explained. “But we wanted to wait the normal three months before telling anyone. And we agreed that with Oliver, too.”

“Oliver!?” Both Ayesha and Richard exclaimed.

“Yes. It turns out that he’s moved on from initiations. I think it might have been that no-one was waiting until 18 but I’m not sure. But he’s moved on to offering to sire a baby for couples, now. And he’s giving a preference to women who gave him their virginity. So I called him after Jocelyn told me. He met Joe and me to make sure that Joe was properly enthusiastic. Then we set a time when I was fertile and… Well you can guess the rest.”

The conversation continued for another 40 minutes before Esther and Joe had to go. There was only one topic of conversation that night. And Ayesha ended up with one to-do on her list for the next day. Contact Oliver.

⁂

“Come on down,” he told her when she called. “I want to meet Richard and assure myself that he’s as enthusiastic as you say.”

“He is, I assure you.”

“Ayesha, I have no doubt that you’re telling the truth. But I have to do my own due diligence, don’t I? Your company wouldn’t let you get away without that, would they?”

And Ayesha had to agree. She was confident that Oliver would agree to breed her for Richard. That wasn’t it. She was just too involved. She remembered the fucking from five years before and wanted another four days and nights of exquisite sex ‒ but with the added frisson of it being repro sex and not just for fun.

So, she made arrangements, knowing that Richard would drop any other plans he hadn’t told her about to accommodate a trip to London. A step towards Richard watching her cuckold him. A step towards Oliver giving her a mixed-race baby that everyone would know couldn’t be Richard’s.

She was right. Richard was delighted to adjust his plans so he could meet Oliver.

⁂

“It was Maria who suggested it. Her husband is infertile, so any baby would need another man’s sperm. And when she told him about her first time, he was enthusiastic because it was simpler than going down the IVF route. He didn’t know that he enjoyed being a cuckold. But when he realised it, we incorporated that.”

Ayesha had never heard of Maria before. She knew that Oliver had done very well. He had a strong positive reputation. But she only knew about herself, Esther, Jocelyn, and Lucy. Ayesha was pretty sure that most of the girls were black because most people in the area were black. She was sure that she was the only Bangladeshi girl Oliver had initiated, and Esther was the only Jewish girl.

“Incorporated?” Richard asked.

“It turns out that Adio wanted to participate and Maria was happy to let him.”

“How did he participate?” Richard could feel his cock moving in his pants, though no-one looking would have known as the fabric didn’t need to move out of the way.

“Oh, you know. Pretty standard stuff. He wore a cock cage. He licked me erect and cleaned me up afterwards. And he spent a lot of time cleaning up Maria, too. But only after cleaning me up because he wanted to give bursa eskort my sperm a good head start.”

Richard was as hard as he could get by the end of that list. Ayesha could feel the change in his heart rate as they were holding hands. She turned her head directly towards Richard and asked.

“Is that what you want, Richard? Do you want to wear a cock cage and serve Oliver before and after he breeds me? Do you want to thank him with your mouth when he gives me his baby?”

“Yes.” The sound was like a frog croaking ‒ guttural and stripped of everything bar base honesty.

⁂

That night they discussed the practicalities. They both wanted the sex. And they both wanted a baby fathered by Oliver. But what would the impact be? How would their parents, friends, and even colleagues react?

Ultimately, they decided that it was no-one else’s business. And lots of couples relied on sperm donors nowadays. The main difference was that Richard wasn’t asking Ayesha to let another man breed her because he was infertile. As far as they knew, his boys could swim. They wanted Ayesha and Oliver to cuckold him because Ayesha loved sex with Oliver and he wanted to be a cuckold. And he was very happy to raise a baby fathered by another man, a black man.

They both knew that when Ayesha delivered Oliver’s baby there would be no doubt that he was a happy cuckold.

⁂

In many ways the process was the same as when she’d been 18. The key difference this time was that there was no prescription for the pill. In fact, they had to wait two months to make sure she was fertile again.

The week before they were due to head down to London, Ayesha got more good news. She was now in middle management. She had a team reporting to her and extra income to reflect her expanded responsibility.

That would make it much easier to buy all the stuff a newborn baby needed. But to be born, the baby must first be formed, so she and Richard headed down to Oliver’s house in London.

They’d be spending five days naked. Richard would be wearing his new cock cage but that hardly counted as clothing. Ayesha had wondered if she could bring lingerie but Oliver had said no clothes and she knew he had good instinct. And she liked the idea of being naked, fertile, and available to Oliver for five full days.

So, they just brought the clothes they’d need to go home and toothbrushes.

Oliver made the disrobing formal as they entered the house. He also undressed and Richard was amazed at the size of Oliver’s cock when limp. It was far bigger than his own, even when erect. Even his foreskin was longer. Richard’s only covered half his helmet but Oliver’s had a nice, tight overhang while he was limp.

Richard licked his lips as he imagined the play he’d have with Oliver’s cock before he saw Ayesha fill herself with it. His mouth watered and he nearly dribbled as he imagined the big black cock filling his wife with volley after volley of babymaking sperm for five days.

“Now, Richard,” Oliver commanded. “You may give Ayesha one final kiss on the lips now. Then, you only get to clean up. Your only contact with Ayesha will be to lick up my leftover semen as it leaves her pussy. The next time to get to give her a proper kiss, she should be pregnant with my baby.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Richard replied. He gave Ayesha a tender kiss and told her how much he loved her.

“Now, Ayesha. Are you ready to be black bred?”

“Yes, Sir!” She confirmed. “I want to go home with your baby growing inside me. And I want my husband to watch me orgasm as you put it there. Please, Sir, will you breed me?”

“Yes, Ayesha. I’ll breed you and send you home with a half-black baby in your womb.”

There were smiles all round.

⁂

“On your knees, young man!” Oliver commanded.

Richard knelt down awkwardly, feeling his cock cage encapsulating his tiny throbbing member. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply, enjoying Oliver’s manly scent enormously. Then, he gently lifted Oliver’s cock and licked the very tip of his foreskin. He was satisfied as he felt the enormous flesh pipe tremble in his hands as blood rushed towards it.

The gentle oral ministrations continued. Richard licked and sucked the tip of Oliver’s huge member, seeing and feeling it grow and stiffen as he did so. Within a minute or so he could see that Oliver’s helmet was broader than the shaft of his cock. He could also see a small circle of pink as his foreskin was filled with the swelling cock head.

Slowly, he retracted Oliver’s foreskin and sucked his cock head. Oliver’s whole body trembled at that incredibly intimate contact.

Richard knew that the first part of his job was done. He’d confirmed his willingness to have Oliver breed the love of his life by arousing his giant member. Now, he had to stand back and watch as Ayesha opened her legs and welcomed him inside.

Ayesha was lying down on Oliver’s bed. She’d been rubbing herself even before they’d undressed. She’d continued with enthusiasm as Richard fellated Oliver. Now, she called over to Oliver and gave him her command.

“Come here, Oliver. You can’t put a baby in me until you’ve put your cock inside me. I’m unprotected and I’m fertile. So bring me to orgasm and inject me with sperm for the first time in years.”

Oliver liked that command. He only wanted to breed married women who wanted to be bred. And he found married women so much more attractive as mothers for his babies than single women.

After breeding Maria with Adio’s support he’d bred three other black women, before breeding Esther with Joe’s support. Breeding Esther had been more exciting than even breeding Maria, the first married woman he’d impregnated. Adio didn’t look so different to him. Sure, Adio was shorter and a relatively slight man but he they were both black, with grandparents who’d come from the same Caribbean island.

Esther and Joe were white and giving a white woman a black baby was extra special.

Now, with Ayesha and Richard he was giving a married woman with exclusively Bangladeshi heritage a baby. And blond Richard could never be mistaken for the baby’s father, just like ginger Joe couldn’t.

He was helping these couples achieve their cuckolding and breeding goals. But with Esther and now Ayesha he was being far more active in advertising his masculinity. He was confident that more married couples would come to him, seeking breeding. And who knew what the future could bring? Maybe he’d make babies with Korean or Mexican mothers?

These thoughts flashed through his mind as he enjoyed the sight of the glistening light on Ayesha’s wet pubes. And the hint of pink as her delightfully brown lips opened up and showed him the precious areas they’d been protecting.

Getting his magnificent manhood into Ayesha had been a real challenge when she was a virgin 18 year old. She was almost 23 now and had encouraged Richard to play with her with a wide range of dildos, some of which were quite large. Nonetheless, despite everyone’s eagerness and experience, she found his width a challenge once again.

A slow, gentle entrance wasn’t disappointing. It meant more time spent on the act. More pleasure.

So, it took at least five minutes for Oliver to get even half of his considerable pipe inside her. Ayesha was encouraging throughout, vocally calling out her delight. Richard, meanwhile was excitedly silent. He knew that his role was to observe quietly. He had to use his eyes to record the high definition images he’d be rewatching pretty much every day for the rest of his life. He had to make sure he recorded every movement, every sound, as Oliver brought Ayesha to orgasm after orgasm before inseminating, and hopefully impregnating her.

Oliver moved gently and gracefully while he was on top. He didn’t want to risk hurting Ayesha. Then, when Ayesha went on top she moved with abandon. She knew what she could cope with. And what she wanted was to feel Oliver stretching her and bottoming out at her cervix. Finally, after significant effort using muscles she never needed to use with Richard or dildos, she felt Oliver against her cervix.

She stopped.

“You touched my cervix. Now, I want to lie under you. And I want you to fuck me and cum inside me. Make sure you’re touching my cervix with each spurt, please. I want your sperm to be as close as possible to where it has to go. I want your baby, Oliver.”

That was the message he wanted and needed.

They adjusted once more and this time things moved faster. Ayesha was ready. He was ready. It only took a couple more minutes and then he felt his orgasm arrive. He did his best to stay put and splash his black baby making seed against her cervix.

Richard was looking and saw Oliver staying deep. And he could see muscles throbbing as Oliver flooded Ayesha with semen he’d been saving for days.

Ayesha and Oliver hadn’t been counting but Richard had. Eight solid spurts and then a few followup throbs. He was delighted. Slight as any one chance was, one of Oliver’s sperm could find the egg Ayesha was due to produce that day. With luck, this was the moment that ensured he’d be spending the rest of his life raising and supporting another man’s child. He almost fainted with joy.

But he couldn’t because he had responsibilities. First to clean up Oliver and then to clean up Ayesha.

Oliver’s jet black cock was smeared with the shiny white lube Ayesha produced and the remnants of his own semen. Richard was overjoyed to be allowed to taste them both from such a magnificent male organ. He gently licked from the base towards the helmet. He knew that Oliver’s helmet would be the most sensitive and so needed time to rest. But finally, he was almost there.

“May I put your helmet in my mouth, Sir?” He asked, with revence.

“Yes, but be very gentle.”

Oliver felt Richard’s mouth enclosing his helmet. He felt that questing tongue gently gathering the two kinds of juice. And he heard Richard groan with delight as he enjoyed the mixed flavours. Then, he felt Richard’s tongue seeking entry under his foreskin, so no part of his cock was left unwashed by the small blond man’s mouth. It was almost as intense a feeling as when he was inside Ayesha. Fortunately, it was brief and Richard pulled away.

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On becoming sexually active at the late age of eighteen peeing became a great pleasure. Even when it was not directly linked to sex I loved to fill my bladder and keep it full for as long as long as possible. The release of pressure was often done gradually as I teased myself. Over time a full bladder did start to arouse me sexually.

Inevitably my first orgasm was reached with a full bladder and my hand between my legs. I don’t know whether all females, or males for that matter, remember their first orgasm as clearly as I do. I had been asked out on my first date with the boy I had fancied for months. It wasn’t my first date with any boy but it was the first with Brad. I was excited about him, excited by the date and excited when he slipped his cold hand into my bra. My nipple was rock-hard instantly and I held my breath as he tortured it beautifully. Nobody other than me had touched my nipples and it felt frighteningly exciting.

I had been a late developer with my boobs not growing until years after some of my lucky friends. Lack of boobs meant very little interest from the boys, well at least the boys I fancied. My nipples had always been very large with almost no areola. They looked huge on my flat chest a combination that upset me. Boarding at an exclusive all girls school in the middle of nowhere we rarely met boys and those we did seemed attracted to one thing, huge tits as they called them.

When my boobs suddenly grew to an almost acceptable size my confidence grew along with the boys’ interest. It was the summer before going to University – Brad was lovely and I thought I was in love. My girlfriends bragged about what they had done with their boyfriends but I was skeptical about most of their stories. Skeptical or not I felt I was missing out. Was it possible that my friends were being fucked to orgasms that were so wonderful they nearly passed out due to the pleasure, I thought not! Other girls said they thought that they had had orgasms but were not sure. Looking back now aged 25 they had clearly not had one but I didn’t suspect that then.

Back to Brad I had no idea how to ensure that my first date with him would turn physical, sexual, but I was determined to try. I knew he had gone out with a couple of my friends but he did not seem to be pushy or brag about what he had done with them. This was reasonably unusual in my limited experience of the local boys. We were both 18 but were naïve in the extreme. Looking back now it seems like a wonderful naivety but at the time it was scary but in an excited kind of way.

Our date was a trip to see a film, a movie. We caught a bus to get there but his older brother agreed to pick us up and bring me home after it. Yes my mum had even insisted that I was brought back to the door and this was the only way it could be arranged. During the film Brad was far too much of a gentleman to do what I was hoping he would. I was very close to making a move to either put his hand on my body or find his with mine. I am not sure whether I was too scared to make a move or whether I was afraid to appear too forward. We got no further than holding hands until we were waiting outside for his brother. We were in a darkish area and I knew I wanted something to happen. I looked him in the eye and gave him a gentle but passionate kiss on the lips. When I pulled away he gave me a lovely smile, took hold of my head in both his hands and returned the favor beautifully. We were still fully engrossed in kissing each other when his brother coughed politely before laughing at us. He asked us about the film before saying that he hoped we had not really taken much notice of it.

When we got to the car his brother opened the back door for me. Brad went to get in the passengers door before his brother told him to “get a grip” and get in the back with me. We were soon kissing again as his brother drove off. As he did so he looked in the mirror smiled and turned the mirror so he could not see the back seats or anything on the road behind us. Somehow it seemed very natural when between us we managed to maneuver so that his cold hand was not only under my tee shirt but also under my bra. It felt a little like his hands were connected to mains electrics. It also felt like my nipples were connected to my pussy. I thought for a split second that I was going to pee. The fizzy drinks I had drunk during the film suddenly sat very heavy in my bladder (why do cinemas always serve huge drinks?). I wanted to say something but carrying on kissing seemed far more important at the time.

My body was fighting so many different sensations. I was delighted that Brad seemed every bit as much into me as I was into him. I was, for the first time, delighted to have a huge nipple that could be so easily excited so perfectly. I was delighted, but also very scared, that my full bladder seemed ready to burst. When we pulled into the drive of my house I was gutted. I straightened myself up and gave Brad a last kiss before thanking his brother. He gorukle escort didn’t need to move the mirror that was now perfectly positioned for us to make eye contact. Brad and I had already arranged to meet the following week. As I climbed out of the car I noticed the curtains in the lounge twitch. Standing up was a little uncomfortable as my bladder was now threatening to fail me. This was not a completely new experience but I had not been this uncomfortable in public before.

When I managed to stagger into the house my mum greeted me as if I was returning from a six-month world tour. She enquired why I was looking so flushed and whether Brad had behaved himself. I wanted to explode at her but was afraid that this would slow down me getting to relieve the acute pressure in my bladder. I said he had been the perfect gentleman and my flushed state was because the car had been very warm. She clearly wanted to grill me about the evening but did allow me to go up to my bathroom upstairs without further questions. As I started to drop my panties I was sure that I would lose control but when my bottom hit the seat things eased just a little. The extreme pressure in my bladder was just as strong but I now I could welcome it, as the worse that could happen would be I peed. I had been in this position many times in the past. I would play with my pussy until the need to pee became too strong and the pee would explode with a force that was both exhausting but also stimulating. On these occasions I would feel elated but tired after emptying my bladder, which could take minutes before every last drop was gone.

On this occasion there was something a little extra. I could still feel Brad’s fingers on my nipple. When my fingers found my pussy it was not moist as usual but dripping. It was dripping, but I knew it was not pee. My clit was feeling more bloated than usual and extremely sensitive. With one hand refusing to leave my clit my other hand struggled to uncover the nipple that had been so excited earlier. I did not undo or remove any item of clothing as I was in far too much of a rush. My tee shirt was soon around my neck on one side and my bra was partly removed to allow me to get hold of my huge excited rubbery nipple. Brad had not been particularly gentle with it earlier but now I was positively demented as I rolled and squeezed it between a thumb and finger. The image in my head was Brad doing this to me. I had to work much harder to create the image that it was Brad’s fingers playing with my clit. Once the image was set in my mind everything changed. In the past when I got to the point where I knew I was going to pee I would stop rubbing my clit and sit back push the pee out with great force. Now it was not me rubbing my clit, not me refusing to stop the rubbing, when my body finally capitulated it was Brad. He told me I could pee if I needed to but he was going to masturbate me while I did so.

The next five minutes plus were some of the most memorable of my 25-year life to date. My bladder refused to relax enough to pee. I pushed hard to force the pee out but this only hurt more. My fingers, or in my head Brad’s, took control: my clit went into spasm, my bladder went into spasm and my whole body went into spasm. Colors flashed in front of my eyes. Red, orange and yellow stars appeared but I was not sure whether my eyes were open or closed. Still no pee. The orgasmic spasms got stronger and I believed the friends I had doubted about cumming until they thought they would die. Finally I pushed again and I peed so hard it sprayed everywhere. It lasted a few seconds before my bladder closed again and spasms took control. Again I managed to force a long squirt of pee from my aching bladder before the spasms resumed. Fewer spasms this time before I was able to pee again. This cycle was repeated at least half a dozen times. The spasms of pure sexual energy were fewer each time and the peeing was longer and less powerful. It lasted at least five minutes but it might have been closer to ten. I was so exhausted I slid off the toilet and curled up on the bathmat my clothes still in total disarray. I must have dozed off as about half an hour later I woke up cold and stiff. I managed to make it to bed but slept until morning without removing any of my clothing. That orgasm changed my life. Peeing had always been a great joy to me, now peeing and orgasms were linked in a way I was desperate to explore further.

After our first date it seemed a very long wait until our second. I was desperate to turn my fantasy of him bringing me to orgasm using his fingers into reality. That summer mum met a new man who whisked her away on a world cruise. It was fantastic suddenly I was completely freed up. I still fancied Brad but decided that this summer was going to be too good to waste if we couldn’t move things forward quickly. I decided to take the bull by the horns during our second date. We met in a pub for a drink, which gave me a chance to try bursa görükle escort and explain myself a little. I told him that I had enjoyed the kissing and that what had happened in the car had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. I asked him if he wanted to enjoy so much more with me.

Brad and I never lost our virginity together but I taught him to masturbate me while I had a full bladder. He brought me to beautiful orgasms even before I eventually broke down and let him not only give me orgasms but experience me peeing as I did so. I regret parting company with Brad as after that summer we went to Universities that were at different ends of the country. Don’t feel too sorry for Brad I developed a love of giving him head. He even developed a love of peeing while I played with his near erect cock. Looking back my obsession with peeing, as part of sexual activity was probably the main reason why we never actually fucked each other. I had developed a very strong pee fetish.

My virginity did not survive long at Uni. I wish I could record that my deflowering was the most wonderful experience of my life. It wasn’t. The new students were all very excited and nervous to be living away from home at Uni and particularly the boys were keen to get laid. I didn’t try and act as if I knew everything about sex as some of the girls did (possibly justifiably). My nervous naïve excitement did attract a couple of the second year boys who were delighted to suss out the often innocent naïve talent of the new girls. It was Andy who spent just enough time trying to get into my pants. I am sure that he was close to cutting his losses and looking for lowering hanging fruit when I decided that he was sufficiently hot to help me rid myself of my unwanted virginity. I am sure this was not how I saw it back then but that is how I see it on reflection.

Andy was considered amongst my growing group of female friends as a bit of a stud, a bit of a catch. Even if he was never going to promise me everlasting love sleeping with him was going to do my social status no harm at all. I will not take many lines to describe our three “dates” or more accurately the three times we had sex together. He was far from an unskilled lover and he did try at least to make things good for me. Looking back the foreplay clearly didn’t really float his boat but he performed it with some care. Fortunately he didn’t have a large cock and when he did take my cherry he did know enough to add plenty of lube from a tube to add to my considerable natural lubrication. He was delighted to confirm that he was my first but did give me time to recover from the considerable discomfort before fucking me firmly. I did get very sexually aroused by the experience but was never in danger of having an orgasm. He seemed happy after exploding after a few minutes that we enjoyed in two different positions. He was keen to hear that I had enjoyed it and that I was interested in a repeat performance. I confirmed what I knew he wanted to hear. The other two sessions were not too different but without the initial pain. My only regret was that I did not tell him how he could have made it so much better for me. It was a lesson well learned by me and not often repeated.

Fortunately we were able to split reasonably amicably as we both agreed things had run their course. I knew I had to find someone who I could share at least some of my fetish with. I did have a very lucky break on this front. A large group of us were drinking heavily in the bar late one evening. The conversation turned to things that people found a sexual turn on. It was one of the boys/men that said that if his bladder became too full he would get a very stiff erection and be unable to pee. This would lead to his bladder going into spasm. I was desperate to jump into the conversation but just managed to hold my tongue before one of the girls said.

“Oh you are just the man that I am looking for. One with an erection that will just not go down.”

This caused much laughter but I was keen to ensure the conversation stayed on this topic as long as possible. I asked the boy how he resolved the problem and his obvious answer was that he masturbates to orgasm and then the bladder relaxes more easily. I wanted to admit my own interest in full bladders and peeing but threw out a question instead,

“Do any of you girls get aroused when your bladder is full?”

There was a few seconds silence before one of the quieter girls said,

“Yes I do. I thought I was kind of a bit weird but maybe not.”

There were a couple of the other girls who comforted her saying that there was nothing weird about it. They didn’t actually go as far as admitting that they found it arousing but it was clear they did. I don’t have many regrets in life but one is that I never shared my fetish with another female (actively that is). I don’t have any bi-tendencies but I have often wondered whether I would have enjoyed sharing my fetish with another female. I have no regrets that I have shared my fetish with many males on many occasions.

The discussion rumbled on for some minutes. Finally I expressed my interest in both experiencing a male who enjoyed a full bladder and having a male enjoy me while I had a full bladder. I did not reveal how deep my interest was however. This certainly caught the attention of the boys who suddenly seemed to be desperate to offer their services in either of my expressed interests. I made a mental note of two who seemed to have some actual interest in the matter rather than the simple interest of getting into my pants. I would have loved to simply drink up until my bladder was full and taken one of the two of them to bed to explore my fetish. It was not to happen.

One of the two boys I had observed as clearly aroused by the idea of full bladders and peeing was Hans. He was strongly built, good looking but very quiet. I could not imagine him plucking up the courage to chat up a girl but that was no worry to me. He was in a small group that met once a week with one of our tutors. It was easy to pull him to one side.

“You seemed very interested, even aroused, by the conversation in the bar the other night. Am I mistaken? If I am I apologize, if I am not then I plan to have a full bladder tonight at about nine o’clock. My room is B156 I would like it if you joined me, with a full bladder of course.”

I could see he was just a little worried I was in some way setting him up. I tried to allay his concern by confirming my interest was longstanding and profound. He clearly believed me. The rest of my day was worrying exciting and frustrating. Had I misread Hans or my ability to share my fetish with anyone else, particularly a near stranger. I turned down offers to join friends for the evening and my nervousness grew, as did my bladder. On the dot of nine there was a quiet knock on the door and Hans took a nervous look round the room before accepting my offer to enter. He had four beers in his hand and a large bottle of water. His first words did establish what we both knew and that was this was not going to be conventional sex.

“I find I can enjoy a bladder full of water far more than one full of beer. I brought the beers just in case you find the opposite.”

We had absolutely agreed to explore our jointly held interest in full bladder peeing. I agreed the beers could be put to the side. I invited him to feel my already large but not yet uncomfortable bladder by placing his hand over it through my clothes. He reciprocated and I guessed his was already getting towards the uncomfortable point. I suggested that I would find it better if we were lying down and that I would be more comfortable naked. I have never undressed in front of a man in a less erotic way. I had unnecessarily dressed as sexily as I could but this was irrelevant as all our clothes were soon discarded.

We did briefly stand and admire each other’s bodies. His was strong and well toned with a cock that to my inexperience eye was slightly on the small size. It was however already rock-hard. He appeared very appreciative of my body that showed its own excitement in the form of erect nipples and a very wet pussy.

Before we moved to lie down on the bed he offered me his bottle of water in such a way as he might have offered me a dildo. I kept eye contact with him as I downed at least half a pint. As I offered it back to him I tried to challenge him to drink even more. I couldn’t resist covering his cock with my hand and gently pushing it against his bladder as he slowly drunk at least a pint of water. His eyes expressed the excitement and delight that he had found a kindred spirit. We agreed that in a prone position we could comfortably enjoy a much fuller bladder than when standing. When we were lying down he offered me the replenished bottle having positioned his hand so that his palm covered my expanded bladder while his fingers reached my clit. I didn’t drink until his fingers spread my juices around my swollen clit. He smiled at this little game. I knew I could not drink too much more but made a show of what I did drink before offering him back the bottle. He held my gaze without drinking anything until I flattened my hand against his cock with my fingers reaching down to his almost hairless balls. These I tickled as he drunk slowly but surely. His erection had been rock hard throughout but now the head was turning a lovely shade of purple.

My bladder was now screaming at me. I told Hans that I didn’t want to drink any more but wanted to enjoy the fullness of my bladder while being played with. I asked him whether he would prefer to watch me play with myself or whether he wanted to play with me. His answer was to settle down next to me with his left hand covering my bladder and his fingers just a little lower than previously. The tips of his fingers now played between the wet swollen lips, my clit was in contact with his fingers and his hand applied gentle circles to my rock hard bladder. I was in heaven. I was able to copy many aspects of what he was doing using my finger tips under his balls, my fingers on his balls and my hand rolling his erection across his bladder.

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PART ONE

The air conditioning in my dad’s oversized SUV was working overtime, but I could still feel sweat gathering at the base of my neck. City summers were suffocating, which is why I was actually kind of looking forward to this camping trip, though “looking forward” might be a generous description of my current emotional state.

My dad, Mark, gripped the steering wheel with his perpetually tanned hands, his Ray Bans reflecting the highway and occasional billboards. At fifty two, he still maintained the physique of a former college athlete: broad shoulders, a slight paunch that spoke of good living, but still fundamentally strong. He’d been talking about this trip for weeks, excited to reconnect with his old college buddy, Jim.

“You’re gonna love Leo,” Dad said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Jim’s son. He’s about your age, really outdoorsy. Not like you,” he added with a chuckle that was more affectionate than mocking.

My mom, Elena, turned in her passenger seat, her perfectly highlighted brown hair falling just so around her shoulders. She worked in marketing and always looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine, even on a road trip. “Wyatt’s outdoorsy in his own way, Mark,” she said, which we both knew was code for “he’s good with computers and knows the best coffee shops.”

I adjusted my glasses and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. Meeting new people, especially someone described as “really outdoorsy,” made my palms sweat. I was more comfortable with my coding projects and indie music playlists than with wilderness and… whatever Leo might represent.

The SUV turned off the main highway onto a progressively narrower road. Pine trees started closing in, creating a green tunnel that was simultaneously beautiful and slightly claustrophobic. My urban survival skills felt increasingly irrelevant with each mile.

When we finally pulled into the campground, I saw Jim’s truck already parked at the designated site and that’s when I first saw Leo.

He was standing casually beside the truck, one foot propped against the bumper, wearing cargo shorts and a faded blue tank top that showed off muscular arms. Sun-kissed skin, a baseball cap turned backwards, and the kind of confident posture that suggested he was completely at ease anywhere, especially here, in the wilderness.

As we got out of the car, Leo pushed off from the truck and walked over with a swagger that was simultaneously relaxed and purposeful. Up close, he was even more impressive: probably six foot two, with light brown hair that looked like it had been bleached a bit by the sun, and green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.

“Hey!” Leo’s voice was deep, friendly, with just a hint of a laugh underneath. When he stuck out his hand to shake mine, his grip was firm but not aggressive. “You must be Wyatt.”

I felt myself blushing instantly. Damn it. “Hi,” I managed, hoping I didn’t sound as awkward as I felt.

He grinned, the kind of grin that suggested he found everything slightly amusing.

“Dad says you’re into tech stuff. Bet you know all about computers, huh?”

The way he said it didn’t feel like a challenge, more like genuine curiosity. But I still felt myself getting flustered. “Um, yeah. I do some programming.”

“Cool,” Leo said, and something in his easy acceptance made me relax just a fraction.

Just then, Jim, Leo’s dad, walked over. He was cut from the same rugged cloth as my father, but with a more weathered look. Deep laugh lines around his eyes, skin tanned from years of outdoor work, and a firm handshake that nearly crushed my fingers when he greeted me.

“Wyatt!” Jim’s voice boomed with the kind of confidence that seemed to be a genetic trait in his family. “Mark told me all about you. Computer whiz, huh?”

Before I could stammer out a response, Leo’s mom approached. Unlike the outdoorsy vibe of her husband and son, she looked more like she’d stepped out of a suburban book club. Perfectly pressed khaki shorts, a crisp white polo shirt, and reading glasses perched on top of her head. Sarah, my dad had called her.

“Welcome, Wyatt. I’m Sarah” she said, her smile warm but slightly studied. The kind of smile perfected by years of corporate networking events. She gave me a quick hug, the type that’s more of a polite social gesture than a genuine embrace.

Our parents quickly fell into familiar patterns. My dad and Jim started discussing camping gear, comparing the merits of their new portable grills and discussing some shared college memory. My mom and Sarah began talking about work, something about marketing strategies and corporate restructuring.

Leo leaned in close, his breath warm near my ear. “Parents, right?” he whispered, a conspiratorial chuckle underneath his words. “Wanna get out of here?”

The proximity made my heart race. He smelled like sunscreen and something woodsy. Pine, maybe, or cedar. I nodded, probably a bit too eagerly.

“Come on,” Leo said, grabbing my arm with a casual Casibom Giriş touch that sent unexpected electricity through my skin. “I’ll show you our campsite.”

He pulled me away from the parents’ conversation, his grip firm but not aggressive. The campground was a patchwork of RVs, tents, and small clearings. Massive pine trees created natural boundaries between sites, their branches casting intricate shadow patterns on the ground.

Our site was a short walk down a narrow path. Leo moved with an easy confidence, stepping over tree roots and navigating the uneven ground like it was a perfectly smooth sidewalk. I, on the other hand, nearly tripped twice, catching myself with awkward little hops that I was certain looked ridiculous.

“Careful there, city boy,” Leo laughed, not unkindly. He reached back and steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. “You’re gonna need to work on your wilderness skills.”

The small camper came into view. It was compact, maybe twenty feet long, with a slightly faded blue and white paint job. A few folding chairs were set up nearby, and Leo’s backpack was already tossed casually beside one of them.

“Home sweet home,” he announced, giving the camper a playful pat. “You ready for the best summer of your life?”

I wasn’t sure if I was ready. But looking at Leo with his easy smile, the way sunlight caught the edges of his profile, I was definitely intrigued.

Leo bounded up the small metal steps and threw open the camper door with a dramatic flourish. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he proclaimed, gesturing inside with an exaggerated bow.

The interior was a time capsule of 1980s camping aesthetic. Mustard yellow cushions covered the seating areas, which doubled as sleeping spaces. Wood paneled walls were adorned with faded maps and a few vintage fishing photographs. A tiny kitchenette ran along one side, complete with a mini fridge that looked like it had survived multiple decades of camping trips.

“She’s not much,” Leo said, running a hand along the wood grain countertop, “but she’s got character.”

I followed him inside, ducking to avoid hitting my head on the low ceiling. The space was tight, so tight that when Leo moved, we were practically brushing against each other. He seemed completely unfazed by the close quarters. Me? I was hyperaware of every inch of space between us.

“So,” Leo said, popping open the mini-fridge, “beer?” He pulled out a local craft brew, the label covered in mountains and pine trees.

“Oh, um, no thanks,” I stammered. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

Leo shrugged, twisting off the cap with a quick motion of his hand. “More for me.”

He took a massive gulp, then let out a thunderous burp that seemed to shake the entire camper. Immediately after, he turned and gave me a shit-eating grin, clearly proud of his bodily function performance.

I shouldn’t have found it attractive. But something about his uninhibited, purely masculine energy made me blush and laugh nervously. “Impressive,” I managed, trying to sound cool and failing spectacularly.

Leo’s laugh was deep and genuine. “City boys,” he teased, bumping my shoulder. “I got a lot to teach you about camping.”

The “I” hung in the air between us, a promise of shared experiences, of something more than just a summer camping trip. And despite myself, despite my carefully curated urban existence, I found myself wanting to learn everything Leo might want to teach me.

He dropped onto one of the cushioned benches, spreading his legs in a way that could only be described as peak masculine energy. One arm draped casually over the back of the seat, the other bringing the beer bottle to his lips. The move was so effortless, so natural, that it seemed like a masterclass in relaxed confidence.

I tried, and spectacularly failed, to not stare at the way his cargo shorts stretched across his… well, everything.

“So,” Leo said, taking another swig of beer, “tell me about yourself. What does a tech guy do for fun in the city?”

My eyes darted up to his face, hoping he hadn’t caught me mid ogle. “I, uh, mostly code. Work on some indie game development projects. Hang out in coffee shops.” The words tumbled out like they were trying to prove how interesting I was, which, let’s be honest, they absolutely were not.

Leo’s eyebrow raised, just a fraction. “Indie games, huh? That’s actually pretty cool.” He took another sip, his throat working as he swallowed. “What kind of games?”

I felt myself warming up, my nervous energy finding its groove. “Mostly narrative driven indie stuff. Puzzle games with interesting storytelling mechanics.” I was about to launch into a detailed explanation, my specialty, when Leo’s amused smile stopped me.

“Sounds complicated,” he said, but not in a dismissive way. More like he was genuinely interested in hearing more, even if he didn’t fully understand.

A bead of condensation rolled down his beer bottle. I definitely was not tracking Casibom bonus its path. Nope. Not at all.

“So,” Leo continued, his questioning shifting gears, “got a girlfriend back in the city?”

The question hung in the air. I felt my cheeks flush, a mixture of nervousness and relief at the chance to be honest. “No girlfriend,” I stammered. Then, gathering whatever courage I could muster, “Actually, I’m into guys.”

Leo nodded, completely unfazed. “Cool,” he said, taking another swig of his beer. “I’m pretty fluid myself. Into dudes and chicks.” He said it with such casual confidence that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Before I could formulate a response, Leo casually scratched his crotch, a move so unapologetically masculine that I found myself both shocked and weirdly captivated. Then, without any warning or apparent shame, he grunted and released a massive, raunchy fart that seemed to vibrate the entire camper’s cushions.

He bit his lip, looking directly into my eyes with a mix of challenge and amusement. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he proceeded to rip another thunderous blast that would make a frat bro proud.

I should have been disgusted. I should have been repulsed. Instead, I found myself weirdly turned on by his complete lack of inhibition. There was something brutally honest about Leo, no filters, no pretense, just pure, unfiltered masculinity.

My city boy sensibilities were completely short circuiting.

The smell was… intense. Raunchy wouldn’t even begin to cover it. Leo seemed completely unbothered, chuckling as he dramatically waved his hand in front of his face and got up to push open the camper’s small windows.

“Didn’t want to completely gas you out on day one,” he said with a wink. “Gotta save something for later.”

I tried not to stare at the seat cushion where he’d been sitting. Tried really hard not to let my mind wander to any inappropriate places. The combination of Leo’s masculine energy and that primal, musky aftermath was doing things to my imagination that I absolutely should not be exploring.

Leo stood up, stretching, his tank top riding up just enough to show a tantalizing strip of muscled abdomen. “Swimming?” he suggested. “There’s a lake just past those trees. Perfect for cooling off.”

“Sounds good,” I managed, grateful for the distraction and the chance to change the subject and hopefully cool down my overheated imagination.

He tossed me a pair of swim shorts from a small drawer. They landed squarely on my chest, a perfect throw that made me feel both incompetent and weirdly excited. The shorts were a deep navy blue with a subtle athletic stripe, definitely not the kind of carefully curated swimwear I’d typically wear in the city.

“Those should fit,” Leo said, already pulling off his tank top.

I tried, and failed, not to stare as he changed, my eyes tracing the lines of his muscled back, the way his cargo shorts dropped to reveal–

Nope. Definitely not going to think about that.

“You coming?” Leo called, already halfway out the camper door, swim shorts hanging low on his hips.

I scrambled to change, hoping he couldn’t see how flustered I was.

The lake was nothing like the carefully curated urban parks I was used to.

Surrounded by pine trees, the water looked like a massive, cool emerald nestled between rocky shores and dense forest. A few people lounged on the grassy areas near the shoreline, two sunbathers so far away they were barely more than distant shapes.

Leo walked with that same confident swagger, his bare feet padding easily over the rocky ground. Just before we reached the water’s edge, he reached out and squeezed my shoulder, a casual touch that sent an unexpected jolt through my entire body.

“Race you in!” he shouted, and then he was gone, sprinting into the water with a whoop that echoed across the lake.

I pushed my glasses up, knowing I’d need to take them off before swimming and watched him. The way his muscled back caught the sunlight, the splash of water around him, the pure unbridled joy of his movement. For a moment, I just stood there, transfixed.

“You coming or what?” Leo called back, water droplets flying as he turned.

I carefully placed my glasses on a nearby rock, suddenly feeling vulnerable without them. The world became a softer, blurrier landscape. I approached the water’s edge, dipping one toe in.

“Holy shit!” The water was freezing.

Leo’s laugh rang out. “Seriously? City boy can’t handle a little cold water?”

I inched forward, each step a minor battle against the shocking temperature. Leo watched, clearly enjoying my dramatic entrance.

“It’s like ice!” I protested, moving at a glacial pace.

“Oh my god,” Leo teased, “just jump in already!”

Finally, with a yelp that was equal parts shock and determination, I plunged fully into the water. The cold hit me like a thousand tiny needles, stealing my Casibom güvenilir mi? breath for a moment. Leo was laughing, a deep, genuine sound that made the momentary discomfort worth it.

“You’re such a wimp,” he said, splashing water at me.

I retaliated immediately, sending a spray back at him. “Takes one to know one!”

The water fight escalated quickly. Leo was clearly more at home in this environment, moving through the water with the grace of someone who’d spent countless summers swimming. I, on the other hand, was more like a somewhat coordinated drowning cat.

When he lunged at me, I instinctively tried to dodge. His wet skin brushed against my arm, and in that moment of contact, my hand, almost involuntarily, traced the curve of his bicep. The muscle was solid, defined, warm despite the cold water.

Leo caught my hand mid-touch. His eyes met mine, that trademark smirk spreading across his face. “Like what you feel?” he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine and not just from the cold water.

I should have been embarrassed. I wanted to be embarrassed. But something in Leo’s playful confidence made me want to lean into the moment instead of pulling away.

“Maybe,” I managed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Leo’s laugh was a victory and a challenge all at once.

He swam a little closer, close enough that I could feel the water moving between us. “So,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye, “back in the camper. Those farts I dropped. They get you going or what?”

I felt my entire face flame up. “What? No!” The denial came out far too quickly to sound convincing.

Leo’s grin widened. “You’re blushing, city boy.”

“I am not!” I protested, which only made me blush harder.

“Totally are,” he teased, nudging me with his shoulder. The proximity, the water, the absolute shamelessness of the moment–it was overwhelming.

And then, something unexpected happened. I started to laugh. Not a nervous giggle, but a full, genuine laugh that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. Leo joined in, our laughter echoing across the nearly empty lake.

“Okay, fine,” I finally managed, wiping water from my eyes. “Maybe it was… slightly amusing.”

“Slightly?” Leo raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He reached out and ruffled my middle-parted black hair, the touch sending an unexpected flutter through my chest. His hand lingered for just a moment, and then he said, almost casually, “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

My heart did something that definitely wasn’t medically advisable. Skipped? Somersaulted? Temporarily forgot how to beat? All of the above.

Before I could get too flustered, I mustered up just enough courage for a comeback.

“I suppose you’re not absolutely hideous to look at,” I shot back, trying to sound nonchalant and failing spectacularly.

Leo’s laugh was like thunder across the water, deep, genuine, absolutely unrestrained.

Suddenly, he scrunched up his face in an exaggerated expression, eyes crossed, tongue slightly out. Before I could react, he blasted a massive underwater fart. An eruption of bubbles burst behind him, followed by a raunchy smell that even the lake water couldn’t completely mask.

“Oh my GOD!” I dramatically recoiled, trying to sound disgusted while secretly finding it hilarious and… sexy.

Leo was cackling, completely unashamed. “That’s how we fish ’round these parts,” he declared with mock seriousness. Then, with the most ridiculous grin, he added, “A little piss might’ve snuck out with that one.”

I shouldn’t have found it attractive. I absolutely should not have found it attractive.

But somehow, I absolutely did.

The initial excitement of our water play settled into a comfortable quiet. The lake was peaceful, with only occasional bird calls and the soft lapping of water against the shore. Leo floated on his back, eyes closed, looking like he was born for moments exactly like this. I found myself watching him, tracing the lines of his profile, the way water droplets caught the sunlight on his skin.

After a few moments of peaceful floating, Leo turned towards me. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice low.

I moved closer, my heart picking up speed. When I was just inches away, Leo leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

“I’m a little excited,” he murmured, “if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah?” The word came out as barely a whisper, my face turning beet red.

Leo nodded, that trademark smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“If you uh, wanted to tou–“

“Well, look who we have here!”

The moment was shattered by a booming voice. Our parents emerged from the tree line like a perfectly timed comedy sketch, my dad’s Ray-Bans reflecting the lake, Leo’s dad carrying a cooler, our moms trailing behind with an array of beach towels and sunscreen.

Jim, Leo’s dad, let out a loud whoop. “Found you boys!”

My mom, ever the marketing professional, looked like she’d stepped out of a resort catalog, with her oversized sunhat, pristine white cover-up, perfectly applied sunscreen. “Are you boys staying hydrated?” she called, completely oblivious to the moment she’d just interrupted.

Leo caught my eye. The look we shared was a mixture of frustration, humor, and shared conspiracy.

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

This story has been cowritten with a fellow author, whose work you have seen in the Exorcism story.

It is also a part of the A Matter of Faith and Discipline on Holy Grounds continuity. The setting is similar to my overall setting of Lustia, but all of the stories mentioned were written before I properly decided on some elements of Lustia, so I am going to hold off from declaring they are in the same setting.

———

It had been a trying week for the church of the Guiding Light, due to the pair of intruders that stole a major artifact and the absence of everyone sent after them.

Their absence meant that other duties in the church had to deal with being short staffed.

One of those short staffed areas was the vault, where many cursed objects lied, and this was the reason that Ingrid, one of the temple’s best curse breakers, was accompanied by a fresh acolyte rather than another experienced curse breaker.

Ingrid Darklight, one of the best curse breakers of the Church of the Guiding Light, felt worried. This hasn’t been a very good week for the church, that much she knew. It was for that reason that Ingrid accepted the help from the Acolyte who has been instructed to be with her.

Though she’d have preferred someone with more… experience, there was strength in numbers and she had hopes for Thalia. “How are you feeling?” She asked as they were beginning to near their destination.

The younger priestess walked alongside Ingrid, trying to appear serene, but failing to hide her nervousness.

“It will be fine, I’m sure! We can break whatever curse lay before us in seconds!” She proclaimed.

The elder Priestess smiled a bit, recalling when she first began as a Priestess heself. She certainly got an easier assignment than this, that was for sure. Still, she didn’t want Thalia to be too confident.

“Confidence is a fine thing.” Ingrid said soothingly. “However, you must remain vigilant. We may be successful in breaking the curse immediately, but it is better for the two of us to prepare for combat. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“R-right.” Thalia nodded, the mood growing subdued. “I will keep that in mind. Still! I’m sure it will be fine.”

The pair walked through the vault’s heavy doors, entering it, passing shelves after shelves of potentially dangerous artifacts until they finally reached the one they were meant to be working on.

It looked like a simple, golden statuette at first glance – a base, from which a hand extended. The hand connected the base to a head by covering its mouth.

To the left (from the head’s perspective) was another face, connected by touching the other head, which had its eyes closed, and one covered by a hand stretching up into nothingness.

To the right, connected by the heads touching, was a face resting on its side, with another golden hand covering its ear.

Ingrid nodded at Thalia’s words. She accepted the girl’s optimism, it was the very thing that helped many Priestess’ throughout their lives after all, so she didn’t say anything else after that, content to let the silence reign as they eventually entered the vault, with Ingrid taking a note of the dangerous artifacts, and finally stared at the idol.

Ingrid frowned, before looking at Thalia one last time. “Tell me, are you ready?” She asked, her hands lighting up with Light Magic, but not yet beginning the plan.

“Y-yeah! I am! Let’s purify this thing!” She nodded rapidly. “No way some three faces or whatever can stop us!” Her own hands light up as well as she waits for the instructions to start.

“Alright, let us begin.” Ingrid said with a smile, before closing her eyes. “Now, cast your light magic on the item. Remember, it will try to trick, seduce, and trap you. It will do anything in its power to stop you from exorcising it. Do not believe its lies.” She said, before… she dis as she stated.

Thalia followed suit, striking the curse with her own power.

The idol, or rather the curse within, reacted immediately.

Arms began to manifest around them, trying to push their hands over the mouths, ears, and eyes of the priestesses.

Eyes still closed, Ingrid used her magic to push the arms away from her. Even when they did manage to reach her, her light magic is strong enough to drown out whatever voice or action may be attempted. Instead, she focused on the Idol, and exorcising it, as was her duty.

She could sense through the pressure against her magic that more and more arms were appearing.

From beside her, Thalia continued her own spells as well, chanting to help herself focus.

Ingrid took a deep breath as she continued on with her prayer. It helped her block out most of the pressure, thus allowing her to focus more on exorcising the cursed object. However, she was only able to do this because of her extensive training and experiences. She only hoped Thalia would be able to do the same.

But even with her efforts, she could slowly feel the hands of the idol inexorably inching closer and closer with every casibom moment.

It took her a moment to notice something is wrong, because she knew none of the hands reached her yet, and the pulses of divine energy from Thalia’s direction were coming as expected, but her chant had changed.

Whereas before, it consisted of praising the mercy and benevolence and power of the Guiding Light, now it was praising some ‘golden idol’. It didn’t take a genius to notice what idol she might be speaking of.

It didn’t take long for Ingrid to notice what just happened, but she didn’t let despair break her heart. Though Thalia clearly fell, for now Ingrid knew what to do. Rather than solely focusing on the Idol, she now extended her light to Thalia as well, attempting to push off the corruption on her.

When her power reached the woman, however, she found her to be mostly fine.

The hands have reached her already, clamping over her eyes, ears, and mouth, and some reaching for her breasts, and she seemed to be wavering a little, but the corruption didn’t seem to have set in.

And yet the wrong chant continued, with Thalia seemingly oblivious to it.

With a frown on her face, Ingrid lighted up her magic even more, attempting to burn the hands of her Fellow Priests. Taking on an even brighter Colour, signifying that it is meant to be more protective and to catch her attention, whilst still attempting to split her focus on the idol. Of course, though she was skilled, this meant that some of her attention was diverted from the Idol, but not much.

The moment the hand over Thalia’s mouth was burned away, the chant returned to what it should have been.

The hands reaching for Thalia stopped their actions and changed their intents, hoping to achieve something before they were burned away.

As such, all hands except one were dissolved, but the one remaining managed to deliver a harsh slap to Thalia’s ass before disintegrating as well.

And then the idol attempted to punch a hand through to Ingrid’s eyes again, forsaking all other efforts.

Ingrid felt the presences around Thalia, and the elder Priestess felt herself relax, her body sagging in relief as she heard the proper chant. Finally, she thought to herself. She went to return to her chant, before she felt… the idol punched the hand through her magic, landing on her eyes, caught off guard by this gambit as she was too busy helping Thalia.

The hand slowed just before her eyes, gently landing on her face.

Suddenly, she saw, despite her eyes being closed.

Before her stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

She was tall, her long, wavy hair flowing in the wind, caressing her nude body as her pale skin glistened in the dancing firelight, her hips and chest bouncing and jiggling delightfully with every breath.

She took a step toward Ingrid, and gave her a dazzling smile as she reached out to her.

The Elder Priestess felt her body flush at the sight of the smile. It was a truly beautiful, dazzling one, and her breath hitched for a moment. In truly was a magnificent sight… but Ingrid was one who had plenty of experience and knowledge, and as the woman reached out her hands, Ingrid began chanting once more, the prayer, stronger, faster…

And the idol noted her resistance.

The two hands left her closed eyes, plunging her into darkness once more, and then managed to grab hold of Ingrid’s chest, skillfully groping and kneading it before being disintegrated by her magic.

The moment the hand went away, many more formed, and once more headed for Thalia.

Ingrid opened her eyes as she forced the pleasure away, though it lingered for a few more seconds. She looked to her side and she once again split her attention, however this time, there was less attention on Thalia, and more on destroying and subduing the curse on the idol.

It seemed like the two were starting to make progress, though Thalia ended up once more beset by the hands.

She had them across her eyes and ears and mouth, again, corrupting her chant, but also slapping her butt and fondling her chest.

In a fit of desperation, she once again flared her magic as much as possible. Ingrid felt the strain take hold on her, but she pushed on through, wishing to save the younger Priestess. If this didn’t work… The only thing she could do was fully focus on the hands.

But, once again, the hands withdrew from everywhere except her mouth, giving her a solid smack across the ass, squeezing her tits, and running along her bottom lips, eliciting a startled moan from the junior priestess.

And then it committed to its offensive against Ingrid again, this time not trying to corrupt her with visions of beauty, but heading for her mouth and for her body, seeking to instead corrupt her with the pleasures of the flesh.

There was a quiet grunt as she felt the offensive begin against her once more. Her walls held, for a time, before the barrier was bypassed. She allowed them Casibom slot oyunları a few moments as she forced her thoughts together, and eventually concentrated on both the Idol and her fellow Priestess again, though this time, she once more focused on the Idol, realising at this point, she has to get rid of the curse on the Idol… or else.

As the hands reached her, and her focus turned to the Idol, they went to work.

First they stripped her, her clothes ending as tattered rags on the floor, and then two of them slapped her ass, one cheek each.

As the hands withdrew from Thalia, only the one on her mouth lingering for a momenty Thalia grunted. “We have to focus on the idol! If we keep stopping to deal with the hands, it will wear us down!”

At this point, the hands withdrew again, and headed for Thalia again.

The elder Priestess opened her eyes and saw the hands rushing towards Thalia. The assault on her wasn’t too bad, but it was… pleasurable, which was the last thing she wanted to experience at this moment. She had a choice to make between Thalia and the Idol and… She chose to focus on the Idol, directing all her focus on it, hoping to get rid of it quickly.

The idol focused all its efforts on Thalia after that, presumably hoping to deal with her first, and then focus on Ingrid.

The hands once more reached her, covering her eyes, ears, and mouth.

Beyond that, however, their more erotic actions grew bolder.

They once more spanked her and then groped her ass, gently fondled her breasts, rubbed her thighs and cheeks, grabbed her neck – not firmly enough to choke, just enough to invoke the feeling of being choked, and ran their fingers along her spine.

The elder grit her teeth, but she flared her aura as much as she could, intent on destroying the idol. It washed over the Idol, and her power flared enough to help Thalia a bit, but despite that, most of her focus was clearly on the idol, desiring to complete her mission.

And the gold started to flake a little.

While it meant (mostly) abandoning Thalia to her fate, it was working. The only question was if it would work fast enough.

In response to her assault, however, the idol stepped up its own offensive on Thalia, its hands pinching her nipples and rubbing her slit.

The elder priestess did her best to drown out the noises. As regretful as she was, she powered through, and instead fully endeavored to focus on exorcising the wretched idol. The Idol was based off a twisted form of pleasure, as such, Ingrid thought of the more heavenly thoughts of pleasure. Both of sex, and of the normal, day-to-day pleasures one may receive as time pass, a direct contrast to the sinful pleasure the Idol perpetuated.

Like every time she thought such thoughts during an exorcism, she didn’t know if her thoughts on the idol’s opposite achieved anything or not. She kept on thinking them anyway, having faith they were helpful.

Thalia moaned, louder and louder, interrupting her chant, as the fingers rubbed her pussy incessantly before parting her bottom lips and slipping inside, feeling up her folds.

Ingrid closed her eyes, knowing this was up to her now, Her aura flared up, continously focusing on the Idol, doing her best to not let Thalia’s moans distract her and get to her.

The hand on Thalia’s mouth let go, instead prying it open and sticking its fingers inside.

The hand on her pussy bent her forward, and then pistoned in and out of her snatch.

As all this happened, more gold flaked off the idol.

Seeing the gold flake off was good, and now that she was fully uninterrupted, she continued praying, harder, more fervently than she ever did before, wanting to save Thalia from as much pleasure as she possibly could, and to exorcise this idol as quick as she can.

And it seemed to be going so well.

Until Thalia’s moans turned to begging, and then a scream as she climaxed.

Power stopped pouring out of her, as she turned to Ingrid, her eyes and ears still covered, but all the other hands having withdrawn and heading for Ingrid as well.

The idol flaked even more, approaching its end, and it was a race to see if Ingrid would break before it did.

Ingrid saw what happened, and the loud orgasm as her fellow Priestess climaxed. Determined to be victorious, she thought of all she has achieved, and she poured all her power into it.

The hands approached, and struck.

Over her mouth, over her eyes, over her ears.

She immediately saw the same woman from before, but this time, she could hear her speak.

“Why bother holding on to reason? You are just denying yourself pleasure, dear.” She asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

It was harder to see the progress of the idol’s destruction so distinctly, now, but it was progressing apace.

The Elder Priestess frowned, uncaring of the words that were thrown at her. She knew the concern was fake, however there was no doubt about Casibom hakkında the pleasure being real. Still, she didn’t give up, and instead continued to diligently focus on her prayer.

The woman approached, her soft hands gently caressing Ingrid’s chin, and this time, she felt hands on her chin, too.

“Please, simply give in. It will feel so much better – for both of us!”

Ingrid didn’t give in. She didn’t want to give into the pleasure, she did her best to shut out the words. The pleasure was there, it always was, but she wouldn’t be the one to be defeated this day. This, she vowed. After all, she needs to save Thalia, and accomplish her mission.

She could sense more damage being inflicted to the idol, so her efforts were clearly working.

At the same time, the woman leaned in, letting go of her chin and instead fondling her breasts – which, again, she felt.

Ingrid could feel the beginning of moans come out of her lips, but she clenched down. The fondling of her breasts caused her pleasure, especially since she was quite sensitive, but she nevertheless did her best to ignore it, and continue chanting against the idol.

There was a pause, and then the woman leaned against her far more aggressively, kissing her.

But the body pressed against her did not fit the woman.

Rather, it seemed more like Thalia’s to the touch.

Ingrid froze up for a few moments, shocked, and there was a momentary lapse in her praying, but then it began once more. Stronger, more passionate, fuelled by wanting to save Thalia from the clutches of the Idol.

The voice changed, now sounding like Thalia, as a hand grabbed her pussy.

It felt soft and warm, in contrast to the cold metal of the Idol.

Many more hands descended, spanking and groping and choking and pulling Ingrid’d hair, these ones as cold as she came to expect.

But the idol was almost gone. Just a little more and she would be victorious.

Ingrid felt her legs shiver slightly, before taking a deep breath. The sensations continued, almost a desperation to them, desiring nothing more than to take her attention away from her prayer, to focus on it.

She could feel her body responding, growing wet with each pull they did on her hair, but she ignored it. Her focus was on only one thing, and that was the destruction of the idol.

And, as the hands treated her rougher and rougher, the spanks undoubtedly leaving handprints, her nipples being stretched and pulled, the idol disintegrated bit by bit.

Until all the sensations crescendoed, and the idol’s presence stopped.

Ingrid’s vision went dark again, as it should be with her eyes closed.

The feeling of Thalia’s skin against her own refused to go away, though.

Ingrid relaxed. She was happy that the presence was finally gone, before realising that Thalia was still leaning against her. She opened her eyes, and quickly pulled away, looking at her fellow priestess, confused.

“Thalia, what are you doing? Are you still unwell?” She asked softly.

“Oh? Oh, no. I feel better than ever.” She smiled.

It was a genuine smile, and it didn’t feel malicious in any way. More so mischievous.

“But now that the idol is dealt with, you do deserve a reward!” She giggled, and then tried to start rubbing Ingrid’s crotch again, just like she did before.

The elder Priestess wasn’t sure what to do. On one hand, the pleasure was good, and Thalia clearly was in control of her actions this time around. The Idol was returned to its complete iron statuette material. It was truly Thalia. Yet, at the same time, there was a pang of hesitance there, and she reached forward, stopping Thalia. “I… Thank you for your eagerness Thalia, but not yet. I appreciate you wanting to show you happiness, but… I want you to take a step back. You were possessed, I want to make sure you are well, first.”

Thalia paused, confused. “Huh? Why do you think I wouldn’t be fine?” She asked, curious.

“The Idol. It may have had negative effects on you. Make you do things you wouldn’t want to do in other circumstances, or may make you feel ashamed later.” Ingrid explained slowly, gently even.

“Uhh… Okay?” She blinked. “Wait. Do you think I’m trying to give you a reward because I am affected by the idol still?”

After a few moments, Ingrid eventually replied. “To an extent. The corruption itself is mostly gone, but there might be some effects that we are unaware of, deep inside. Corruption… they can change people, in many different ways.” She explained.

“Aww, man! But you look really pent up!” Thalia pouted.

There was a pause from Ingrid, before a smile. “Tell you what, once you got yourself checked out and everything turns out fine, we can have our fun. Sounds fair?”

“Fine. But you have to find someone to help you get some more relief, okay?” Thalia demanded.

Ingrid smiled, giving Thalia a small nod. “Alright, sounds good, I’ll be sure to cave to your demands little one.” She teased slightly, ruffling her hair playfully with a smile.

“Sure, sure. I’ll be asking around to make sure you made good on your end of this deal!” Thalia tried to put pressure on Ingrid.

“You do that, so will I.” Ingrid said with a gentle smile. “If you’ll be a good girl, I’ll be sure when we have our fun, you’ll have such pleasure that you’ll be blown away from it.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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My boss gives me the afternoon off one day. I decide I’m going to surprise my super sexy hot wife with a bottle of champagne I stop and pickup on the way home. My wife Wendy looks like a Greek goddess. she has big perfectly shaped tits, crowned with big sensitive nipples. She can nearly cum when I play with them, her whole body shudders with delight.

I arrive home and she’s no where to be found. Usually she would leave me a note if going out, I guess she thought she would be home before me. i enter the house and look for a champagne bucket.

I put the champagne in ice to chill and have a shot of tequila to relax.

I ease down in a overstuffed chair in my home office. Something wakes me up about 2 hours later. I hear a noise in the den and ease down the hall thinking it is my wife Wendy and think I’ll slip up on her, but i am surprised and speechless.

I look into the den and there she is on the couch legs spread in the air and a giant of a guy pounding her pussy. Her gorgeous triple Ankara escort d boobs are bouncing and she squeezes one in each hand. Then she takes one big breast and moves it up to her hot mouth and sucks her big nipple, then the other nipple and she nips it with her bare teeth pulling on it. She is moaning and groaning and shaking as he fucks his big cock in her hungry wet pussy. They both cum thrashing and screaming they lay still for a few minutes basking in the light of contentment. I am aroused and really pissed off at the same time. My cock is hard and I stroke it. My cock is leaking pre-cum it runs down my thigh. I pull on my cock and squeeze my thick head. I can see why this guy turns her on, his cock is tremendous about 9 inches while mine is about 6 inches and his looks as big around as Wendy’s forearm. He is about 6ft 4 and has chiseled facial features a real mans man with striking black hair and blue green eyes. he has broad shoulders a wash board abdomen legs like Escort Ankara oak trees and a huge cock.

He begins to slowly move his cock in and out of her hot steamy gash.

I slip on a rug as they cum again, I hit the floor and nearly knock myself out. I begin to recover and Wendy is still screaming I’m cumming.

They both jump up and come over to me, the guy pulls his clothes on and exits without a word.

Wendy comes over and asks me what in the hell I’m doing, I ask what I’m doing, what the hell are you doing. You’re fucking some guy when you barely give me a taste of that hot pussy or even sleep with me.

I’m still on the floor where I slipped and landed. Wendy jumps on me and starts slapping me in the face and cusses at me. She says I’m not satisfied with your puny cock, so I find someone that can satisfy me.

She is sitting on my chest cussing and beating me and I’m stunned at the wild woman she has become.

She grabs my head by my Escort Bayan hair and pushes her cunt into my face. Her pussy is soaked in her lovers cum and her womanly juice.

I can’t help but taste it as she grinds her hot wet pussy in my face. She tastes great and I begin to lick and suck her pussy until its as clean as a bowl of cream after a cat licks it clean. I lick every drop of this intoxicating juice.

Wendy is cumming and calling my name to eat her pussy and it floods again, her woman juice is sweet and delicious, I suck her cunt clean again. She cums again and again as I suck her throbbing clit and make her cum and floods her hot pussy and my face again. Her hot pussy juice coats my face, I lick as much as I can. it feels like the juice courses through my body like wildfire.

She begs me to stop and says she can take no more stimulation between her muscular thighs. I stop and lick his and her cum off my lips. She says I’ve never cum like that before. I tell her I was as hot and turned on as I had ever been. I never knew I would enjoy being so submissive, but I am very aroused by it and would love this again.

We talk about it and decide we will do this on a routine basis and her friend agrees to participate as well.

Oh well that’s for another story.

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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Warning – this story contains depictions of cuckoldry and raceplay

The following day Clay instructed me to put in a request for a conjugal visit with my wife. After about one week, my request was approved and the visit scheduled for two weeks later. According to the information provided to me by the prison staff, Mai would be allowed to visit and she and I could spend up to 24 hours in a trailer in a specially designated area of the prison.

For the next two weeks Clay continued to torment me, occasionally telling me about the things that he was planning to do to my wife, and the things that she would do for him. Since my wife had agreed to take my place, there was no repeat of that night when I was forced to suck his cock, and for that I was grateful.

Clay texted Mai often over those two weeks. He told her that if she were to block his texts or fail to respond in a timely manner, that he’d make me his bitch instead. Though Clay never showed me the content of their texts, Mai had all of their texts saved and she later allowed me to read them. The morning after I sucked his cock, Clay texted my wife. Their first exchange went like this:

Clay: Hey slut. Are you ready to hear what happens next?

Mai: Sir… please, we have lots of money… can’t I just pay you or something?

Clay: lol, no. Not money. You can pay with your pussy tho.

Mai then didn’t answer for about 20 minutes, so Clay texted her again:

Clay: If you care at all about your husband you will respond.

Mai: I’m scared… sorry.

Clay: Here’s something to distract you from your fears.

He proceeded to send my wife a photo of his veiny 9 inch cock. It was as thick as my wife’s wrist. It’s a photo that she still has on her phone to this day.

Clay: Like it?

Mai: It’s too big

Clay: No such thing as too big. What’s the biggest you’ve had?

Mai: My husband sir

Clay: lol… Your husband told me that back in ‘Nam you dated only white guys. I’ve seen your husband’s little dicklet. I know that you’re lying.

Mai: Fine. My ex was 8 inches, maybe a little bigger. But it sometimes hurt a little with him. And you’re bigger.

Clay: I guess you’re going to get your little pussy stretched then.

Clay: Let’s see you naked.

Mai replied by sending Clay a selfie. In it she stood before the bathroom mirror. She was completely naked. He wasn’t satisfied of course.

Clay: Nice body. I’ll have fun using it. Show me your pussy, slut. Up close.

A few minutes later she sent another photo, the image of which is still seared in my mind. Mai was reclining naked on the bedroom floor, her legs splayed and her pussy on full display. She was holding her phone, and took the photo using her reflection in her floor mirror.

———-

That night after the lights went out, Clay told me exactly how it would play out. My wife would be brought to the conjugal visit trailer first. Normally I would be brought to the trailer a little later, but Clay had bribed the warden so that he could take my place.

“I’m going to fuck your wife until she can’t walk straight,” he said. “You want to see that don’t you?” he laughed.

“I don’t know… not really….” I paused for a long time. Maybe it was just a coping mechanism, but part of me was actually a little aroused by the idea. Of course, when I first realized this I was deeply ashamed.

“Well you can’t watch. Only one prisoner can be signed out at a time, so you’re going to have wait here in the cell. Don’t worry though, I’ll record it for you.” he said and he laughed. That night I had a dream that he fucked and impregnated Mai. When I awoke from the dream my little 4-inch dick was fully erect.

———-

The next day in the yard I looked up from my book and saw a couple of Clay’s biker buddies staring and laughing at me. Clay was doing bench presses nearby.

“Clay told us about your wife,” one of the guys said to me. He was stocky and muscular and had a full beard. The other one chuckled and shook his bald head.

“Yeah,” this second one continued tauntingly, “he told us how you begged him to fuck her!” Clay was nearby listening. It seemed that he got off on humiliating me.

“I’d love to fuck her. I’ve never had an Asian woman before,” said the bearded one. “Besides, judging from the photo Clay showed us it seems like she’s got a really tight little cunt.”

“For now at least,” Clay finally spoke and grinned widely. The other two laughed and exchanged fist bumps. The bald one stood up and came to sit down next to me. He put his big arm around my narrow shoulders.

“I fucked a Hmong chick once. You should have heard her moan and beg for more. Her boyfriend had a tiny little dick apparently. Kinda like yours haha….” all three of the men laughed. The bald guy continued. “By the end I think that I made her forget her own name. She couldn’t even walk straight. She called me for weeks after that, but eventually I got bored and passed her off to a buddy. Last I heard she was dancing at one of the stripclubs the boss owns. Word has it she’s been passed by the guys around quite a bit.” Again there was laughter.

“Maybe your wife will end up the same way!” the bearded guy said, clearly taking pleasure in tormenting me.

“Maybe when Clay’s done with her we can spitroast the slut,” the bald guy said laughed. “Would you like that wimp?”

I said nothing, but held my head in shame.

“You’re such a fucking loser,” the bearded one chuckled. The signal return to our cells came and I was happy to get away from the two bullies.

——–

Clay continued to text my wife daily over the next two weeks. He would have her send nude selfies almost every day. Clay would sometimes show me the photos to taunt me. One was a photo that Clay showed me was of Mai on all fours on our marital bed with her ass in the air. She was looking back at the camera and spreading her ass cheeks apart. Her pussy was glistening a little. I was unclear how the photo had been taken as I couldn’t see a camera. I later found out that Clay had sent another biker’s old lady over to take some photos of my wife.

“Do you think that she would ever pose like this for you?” Clay asked condescendingly.

In another photo Clay had had the biker’s old lady write on my wife’s body in bright red lipstick. Across her chest she had written “Viet slut” and on just above her pelvic bone was written “Property of Master Clay.” Another photo showed her from behind with the words “fucktoy for BWC” written on her ass. Years later I discovered that Clay had leaked all of these photos online and that they had been viewed millions of time on various porn websites.

Clay also convinced Mai to send him a number of short video clips. In one she was inserting a large realistic-looking dildo into her vagina. She looked into the camera and said “Please Master Clay, I crave the real thing… I need your thick white cock.”

And so it went for two weeks. I was convinced that Mai was just playing along to keep me safe. Clay was a real asshole, but I felt that if I could just survive the next few months, I would be paroled and he would be out of our lives forever.

The day before her visit, Clay sent Mai a text.

Clay: Hey slut. Are you excited?

Mai: I’m nervous…

Clay: Don’t be. You’re in for the best sex of your life

Clay: I want you ready

Mai: Ready sir?

Clay: Freshly washed, pussy shaved, dress sexy, no panties

Mai: What should I wear then sir?

Clay: Wear that tight red dress you were wearing in the first photo you sent your husband.

Clay: It really shows off your sexy little body.

Mai: Thank you 🙂 That’s my favorite dress!

Clay: Good girl. See you tomorrow.

——-

The next day, just after noon, the guards came to escort Clay to the trailer where he would spend the next 24 hours using and abusing my beautiful wife. One of them gave me a disgusted look and shook his head. I spent most of the next day in our cell, too afraid to wander out without Clay’s protection. I tried to read but I was too nervous. In my head I kept imagining what he was doing to her, worried that her might be hurting her, or, worse that she might actually be enjoying herself. My little dick would stiffen when I pictured his thick manhood thrusting deep inside of her, stretching her, and her little pink lips gripping his wet cock everytime he withdrew. I didn’t dare touch myself until lights out and I was sure that no one would see. When I did though I had a mind-blowing orgasm after only two strokes.

I didn’t need to rely on my imagination for long. When Clay returned the next afternoon he was is a very good mood. He was all smiles. He tossed me his phone which was opened to his saved videos and he hopped up onto the top bunk.

I scrolled through the photos and videos. There were about twenty photos and almost as many videos that had been taken over the preceding 24 hours.

I opened the first video in the series.

It opened with my wife sitting on the bed. Clay was asking questions.

“What’s your name?” Clay asked.

“Mai Nguyen,” my wife answered softly. She was a shy girl in the presence of a powerful and dangerous man.

“How old are you Mai?”

“I’m 34 sir,” she replied. Her tone was soft and submissive and calling him “sir” seemed to come to her naturally.

“And why are you here today Mai?” Clay asked.

“You asked me to come.”

“Why?”

She hung her head a little shamefully. “Because my husband owes you, sir,” Mai said, barely above a whisper.

“But you’re here of your own free will, right?” Mai nodded. “Whose idea was it that you come here?”

Mai looked at her feet. “It was my husband’s idea….” she trailed off.

“Stand up for me Mai,” Clay said firmly. “Spin around slowly for me. That’s right.” He kept recording as she displayed herself for him. “You have quite the sexy little body,” he said. “I can’t wait to see more of it.”

Mai blushed.

“You husband says you used to work at a bar back home in Vietnam. I bet you were really popular with the clientel.” Mai blushed and averted her eyes.

“Look at me,” he commanded. She raised her eyes to meet his. I could see a strange look in her eyes. “Do you know how to dance?” Mai nodded. “Dance for me then, slut.” There was a radio in the trailer and Clay turned it on. A slower R&B song came on the radio.

“Shake that little ass for me,” Clay told her. Mai started to sway her hips in time with the music.

“Show me how you used to dance for the American tourists back on Bui Vien street,” Clay instructed her. Mai bent her knees a little and started to shake her ass in an enticing manner. I’d never actually been to visit Mai at work in Vietnam and I’d never seen this side of my wife before. Watching the video my tiny dick started to stiffen.

“Take your clothes off for me, slow and sexy,” Clay said and he stood up. Before long my beautiful Vietnamese wife had removed her dress and was standing before him wearing only the lingerie he had instructed her to wear: stocking, garters and a lace bra, all black. She didn’t have any panties on.

“Get up on the bed. Get on all fours and let me see that ass.” She did as instructed and Clay walked up behind her. He squeezed her ass cheek with his right hand and then brought it down with a smack. Mai yelped a little and her ass started to turn red.

He walked around to the side of the bed and stood there. “Get over here and get my dick out,” he ordered my wife. She crawled over and, still on her knees, reached over and pulled at the elastic if his pants. His large cock popped free. Clay was holding the camera pointed down at her head and he caught the looked of shock on her face when she saw how big he was up-close. Mai, almost instinctively, bent her head forward and kissed the tip of his cock, and when she drew her head back a trail of precum stretched from the end of his dick to her lips. She opened her mouth and swallowed him. Clay held the back of my wife’s head and she started sucking. Before Clay had let me watch the video, I hadn’t realized how good my wife was at giving head. In the past when she had sucked my dick, it had been a brief and efficient bit of foreplay just to get me hard. With Clay, Mai used two hands and sucked slowly and deeply, as if she was making love to his big dick with her mouth.

By this point my little dick was rock hard. I reached down between my legs. As if he knew exactly what I was about to do, Clay called down,

“Keep your hands off your dicklet. Do that shit when you’re alone or I’m asleep.” I immediately moved my hand back. It was very difficult to resist touching myself. It wasn’t just the sight of my wife slurping on Clay’s large penis that I found arousing, but also the sound. The sound of Mai’s wet sucking was punctuated only by Clay’s occasionally grunts. Then came the talking. At one point Clay started talking to my wife as her head bobbed up and down.

“You really like sucking my dick, don’t you slut?”

Mai didn’t break rhythm. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“I asked you a question slut.” Mai gave a moan and nodded her head a little.

“That’s a good slut. I’m going to make you my little sex slave over the next twenty-four hours,” Clay chuckled. He withdrew his meat from between Mai’s lips.

“Look at the camera and say hello to your husband, slut,” Clay said and gave her a little slap across her left cheek. My sweet wife, whom I love with all my heart looked up at the camera.

“Hello Michael,” she said to me. Clay slapped Mai across her face with his hefty manhood. It made a wet “thwack” sound on her cheek. He repeated this a few times. He was clearly intent on making the experience as degrading as possible for both of us. Clay grabbed my wife by her hair and pushed her down once again onto his cock. This time he made her gag. I was in a trance watching the video. From the top bunk, Clay chuckled at what he was hearing, and he was probably reliving the entire experience in his mind.

“Still watching?” he asked me. The video ended and I didn’t reply. I opened the next video stored on the phone. It opened with my wife on her knees looking up at Clay with the camera. Clay zoomed in on Mai’s face.

“I am your little Asian sex slave, Daddy. Please fuck my little yellow pussy with your big cock. Use me like the little married cum dump that I am, Sir.” Clay had clearly told her what to say beforehand. There was no way that Mai had come up with such a formulation on her own. From the top bunk Clay burst out laughing.

“Can’t get enough, can you cuck?”

On the video his voice could be heard. “Tell me what you want, slut.”

“I want your that big white cock of yours inside me Daddy.” Her voice was soft and more highly pitched than usual.

“Good little bitch,” he said and produced a dog collar, which he had her put on herself. He took her lead and had her crawl over to the bed. He pulled on the leash so that she stood, then he pushed her onto the bed roughly.

“Ass up slut.”

My wife’s face was burried in a pillow and her little tanned ass and pussy were obscenely displayed to the camera. Clay stood behind Mai and angled the phone down so that he could film the moment of penetration. He rubbed the thick purple glans over her wet labia, dipped the tip a little and pulled out again. There was no condom. Mai gave a little moan. He did this again and on the third dip, he thrust himself two-thirds of the way i side of her. My wife collapsed forward and moaned, but Clay pulled back on the leash and started sport-fucking the woman I love. Clay laid the camera underneath my wife and I found myself looking up from between her legs as this burly biker railed her from behind. Wetness fell down onto the camera. I continued to watch him fuck her like this for a couple of minutes. My wife’s pussy was being stretched wide, but from the sounds she was making of pure wanton pleasure, not of pain. Clay reached down for the camera. He looked into the lens and addressed me directly.

“Like what you see cuck?” He laughed and ended the video.

I clicked through the videos as in a trance. In one, Mai lay with her legs spread, playing with herself. Her pussy gaped a little and appeared wet. Clay approached the bed, knelt between her legs and rubbed the length of his shaft back and forth between her lips as she continued to play with herself.

“Beg for it,” he told her. She sounded desparate and horny as she did what he asked. With one shift thrust Clay was balls-deep in my wife. He addressed me, the viewer, again.

“Your wife can’t get enough of my big white dick, Mikey. I told you she was a slut. Tell him, slut,” he said to her. She had her eyes closed and she shook her head. She clearly didn’t want to hurt me. Clay stopped fucking her, and pulled on her leash. “Do it,” he ordered.

Mai opened her eyes, looked at the camera and told me what I knew, deep down, was the truth.

“I can’t get enough of his big white cock honey…” she trailed off and looked away. Clay tugged her leash a second time. Mai looked at me with her dark eyes. “I’m sorry sweetie…” she said, “I just need Daddy to fuck me and make me feel good.” Clay started to fucked her again, more vigorously this time and Mai started to moan.

“Fuck me Daddy… fuck… fuck… oh… aaa…”

“Am I better than your husband?” Clay asked her while continuing to thrust. He zoomed in on his veiny shaft as he withdrew everything except the tip and started to fuck my wife with long, slow, but forceful strokes. Mai grunted and managed to answer in a sort of staccato.

“Ah… ah… yes Daddy… so big… so good…”

“Tell him.”

Mai looked straigt at the camera.

“He fucks me so much better than you do Mikey. His cock is so much bigger.”

In the final video I watched before Clay took his phone back, Mai knelt on the floor in front of him. Clay was standing and filming my wife who was too busy sucking his big dick to even notice the camera. He recorded my wife slobbering on his shaft for about three minutes before he withdrew and started stroking himself. He aimed his cock at her face as his hand moved qucikly up and down on his shaft.

“Do you want my cum, slut?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said almost pleadingly.

“Stick out your tongue,” he told her and she did so with hesitation.

Clay grunted and a thick white jet of semen splattered against my wife’s left cheek. She instinctively closed her eyes. The second spurt landed across her cheek, nose and forehead. It ran down into her hair. Clay aimed the rest of his load into Mai’s mouth. Clay kept the camera trained on my wife. She was a dripping mess. Sperm mixed with saliva ran down her chin and dripped to the trailer floor in front of her.

“Smile for the camera, slut.”

Clay slapped her across the face with his still hard cock and the video came to an abrupt end.

Clay had then snapped a couple photos of Mai in her degraded state and these were saved right after the video. I stared at my wife. She seemed to look up at me longingly from one of the photos. Then I realized that she had probably been staring longingly at Clay’s big cock. Suddenly it dawned on me what I had done and I realized that my marriage would never be the same. A point of no return had been crossed. Clay interrupted my thoughts by snatching his phone from my hands.

“That’s enough,” he said.

Later that night, after the lights went out, I replayed the videos in my head and stroked my little penis at visions of my beautiful wife being used as a sextoy for this brute. I guess that something inside me had changed as well.

Continued in part 3 “Clay gets paroled”

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Over the last two weeks, you made a lot of progress. Finally, you realized that, as Heidi had told you, the score didn’t make you who you were, you didn’t need to be a tall muscular guy to be a “real man”. You were you. With your strengths and your flaws and part of you was your score. Still, the most important part was how you felt about yourself and how you acted.

A part of being “manly” for you was being courageous and honest. You finally felt it was time to stop lying.

“Are you sure you feel ready for this,” Heidi asked you, rubbing your thigh while you drove.

“Yeah… I’m tired of hiding it. It’s a part of me,” you replied, determined.

You had chosen to tell your father and brother about your score and at the same time introduce them to Heidi, officially.

“Anyway… What’s the worst that can happen?” You asked. Your mom already knew, and it’s not like you chose this. Even though you were still learning to accept your own body, you’d rather not have those tits on your chest. Though you finally accepted to wear the sports bra while running, and to be honest you pretty much wore it everyday under your loose shirts, your grown nipples were way too sensitive now. It was such a relief to avoid the chaffing and have a bit of support.

Heidi looked at you with a frown and a deeply worried expression. It wasn’t like her to be like that. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll be there for you, okay? You can stay at my place if things turn sour.”

“I really don’t think it’ll be that bad… But thanks, I really do appreciate your support” You replied, putting your hand over hers. You squeezed her hand a bit.

You texted your mom earlier to let her know you’d bring a guest for dinner at home. Predictably when you did, she asked who it was. When you told Heidi, she immediately got… Annoying. Putting heart emojis in her texts, saying she looks forward to meeting her and all that.

Finally, you parked in the driveway in front of your house. You sighed deeply and closed your eyes for a second, gathering your courage.

Heidi, still visibly anxious given her worried look, whispered: “It’s okay, I’ll be here with you.”

You got out of the car and opened the front door. Once inside, you could smell the sweet smell of your mom’s home recipe of chili. A sweet and strong scent that gave you a familiar calmness.

Then the face of your mom peaked out of the kitchen. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Heidi. The usually strong and confident Heidi now was shy and cow, looking small in her shoes. A deep blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, you must be Heidi! Come in, come in,” your mom squeaked while moving toward you and Heidi. She gave you a big hug, pressing you in her warm comforting chest with a strong kiss on your cheek.

“Can I?” Your mom asked Heidi, extending her arms towards her. Heidi shyly only nodded. Then your mom hugged her too. She squished her too in her soft breast, a deep comforting hug only a mother can give.

“I’m Nathalie, it’s a pleasure to meet you” Your mom said. She then turned to you: “She’s so pretty!” she told you. Heidi blushed even deeper.

Heidi could only push a weak: “Thanks, miss”

“Oh don’t call me miss. Call me Nathalie, or Nath please,” your mom responded playfully offended.

Soon enough, you were at the diner table, your father and brother astounded by the looks of Heidi. Heidi had finally found her tongue back and was able to do small talk with the family. She told how she was a gym trainer, which strongly resonated with youe father and brother and how we had met at the gym. At some point, your brother couldn’t resist it anymore and asked you the question.

“So, lil bro. Be honest with us. You and Heidi? You’re more than friends right?” he asked, pointing at you with his fork. You didn’t really try to hide it. All during dinner and before, it felt like there was a magnetic pull between you and Heidi. Even her hand landed on your thigh a couple of times under the table out of habit.

You looked at Heidi and she nodded at you.

“Yeah… We’ve been going out for a while to be honest,” you said, voice breaking of nervousness. Heidi looked scared and apprehensive of the reaction of your family.

“Oooohh, this is so great!” your mom gushed, putting her hands together. Your father had a proud look in his eyes similar to your brother.

“Congrats lil bro. Didn’t know you had it in you,” your brother teased you, giving you a small jab in the shoulder.

In turn, the news gave the dinner a festive note. Your father insisted on serving you a beer and the questions aimed at Heidi multiplied. A part of her shyness seemed to dissipate, the acceptance of your family warmed her heart and your happy girlfriend was back. The discussion flowed and the minutes passed. Eventually you all moved into the living room.

As the time passed you started to feel the pressure inside to do what you really were here for. Telling your family about your score. All continued to talk, but you became more ataşehir escort reserved and closed on yourself, trying to find a way to inject this reveal in this joyous moment.

Your mom probably picked up on your mood shift and asked: “Are you okay, Honey? You’re a bit quiet.”

“I… Yes, it’s just that I wanted to say something…” You said, your voice weak and trembling.

Heidi felt your nervousness and grabbed your hand. She knew what you were going to say.

The room paused. All turned to you. They had a worried look. You probably exuded a strong anxiousness in your expression, the whole ambiance of the room changed to a concerned one.

“What is it Zach?” your father asked.

The words felt like sandpaper in your throat. It felt exactly like when you had told your mother. The more force you gave to make the word come out, the more tears started to pool in your eyes.

“Gosh Zach, what is it? Are you sick or something?” Your brother asked. He looked worried for you, a thing he rarely showed.

Your mom seemed to understand and looked at you, also worried, but nodding, encouraging you to say it.

“It’s stupid… I don’t know how to say it,” you paused again. You took a deep breath in and said, trembling: “I lied a while back. It’s about my alpha score.” Heidi, side hugged you, now.

“Well it’s low, like 50 or something… But what of it? It doesn’t matter Zach. We still love you,” your father pressed, distressed from seeing you cry.

“It’s lower… I lied. It’s 4,” you said. Putting your face in your hands, avoiding their eyes.

“It’s what?” Your father asked.

Your mother answered for you: “It’s 4 honey. Don’t make the poor boy repeat it,” she said defensively on your behalf.

“How’s that possible? And Nathalie you knew it? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your father asked, flabbergasted.

Heidi hugged you even tighter. You had a metal taste in your mouth from the nervousness. Your head was spinning, leaving you unable to do anything but cry in your hands.

“It’s like that… sir. He’s still the same Zach,” Heidi jumped in, defending you too.

Your father sighed deeply. “That’s not what I meant. Zach I was just surprised. I didn’t think it was possible to have that score…” Your father stopped his word because of an angry stare of your mom.

He sighed again and re-tried: “Zach, I love you. That score means nothing to me.”

He got up and walked to you. He patted your head. “Look at me, Zach.”

You reluctantly lifted your head out of your hands and looked up at your father. He had a pained expression. He finally felt your pain. He hurted for the torture he imagined you went through alone.

“Zachary Stanley. You are my son. I’m proud of you and I love you,” He said, giving you a kiss on your forehead, and then got down to hug you. All that time, you were worried that he would treat you like a freak. Treat you like a failure. And yet, he just accepted you. Unconditional love. It even made you feel ashamed that you were worried about his reaction.

“Shit, you’re stupid lil bro. I knew something was up. You should have told us. If anyone gives you trouble at school for that, let me know. I’ll break their neck” your brother said, sniffling tears too.

Your moms was crying happy tears. She was proud of her family. A smile on her mouth despite the tears in her eyes.

Heidi too was brought to tears and whispered in your ear: “You’re lucky, Zach. You have such a good family. I’m jealous”

Eventually, tears stopped flowing. The happy mood returned. All that time worrying, for nothing. All those months covering up the changes and yet they still accepted you for who you were. Your mom insisted Heidi stayed the night. Oddly enough, it was the first time she saw your bedroom.

Later that night, after the excitement of the evening had died down and your mom had finally gone to bed, you found yourself back in your childhood bedroom with Heidi. The familiar posters on the wall seemed to watch over you with a newfound sense of acceptance. Heidi had changed into one of your old, oversized t-shirts, which hung loosely on her thin athletic frame, making her look even more endearing.

You both slipped under the covers of your bed. It was a tight fit, but neither of you seemed to mind. Heidi turned to face you, her eyes soft and filled with a gentle warmth. You reached out and tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. A comfortable silence settled between you, a silence filled with unspoken understanding and affection. You pulled her closer, and she nestled into your chest, her head resting right over your heart. You could feel her soft breath against your skin, and the gentle rise and fall of her body as she relaxed. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, feeling a sense of peace you hadn’t experienced in a long time. The events of the evening, the acceptance from your family, Heidi’s unwavering support — it all felt like a weight had been escort ataşehir lifted. Soon, the gentle rhythm of Heidi’s breathing deepened, and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, her warmth a comforting presence against you, finally finding rest in her embrace.

During the next week you found the courage yet again to confront your friends at school revealing the truth about your score. Derek let you know that he’d always be there for you and Lisa let you know she thought no less of you and upon learning of Heidi’s role as your girlfriend tried to convince you to a foursome with her, to which you skillfully avoided. Even more surprising was Mark’s new attitude. You didn’t directly tell him, but someone must have. His bullying stopped and he almost seemed to avoid you. Did someone threaten him or did he just feel bad about bullying someone with such a low score? That you didn’t know, but didn’t care either.

The only negative was that now Lisa and other girls wouldn’t stop telling you you were cute and wanted to play with your hair and such. Maybe they missed the memo that the low score didn’t make you a little pet or something like that. But it didn’t feel bad to have it hair played with though…

Finally, an important date arrived. The two months mark of the double dosage. You looked forward to that date. Despite the fact you had learned to accept your score it was getting bothersome to do the double dosage and have the limp flower. It’s almost as if you had forgotten the feeling of having an erection.

You waited in the medical waiting room. The secretary typed away at her keyboard. The door opened and the blonde doctor called: “Zachary Stanley?”

You got up and the doctor said: “Oh yeah, I remember you.” She looked down at her tablet. “Today is the day, isn’t it?”

Dr Samson was right. Today was the day you were going to be freed of the flower.

“Follow me,” the cold blonde asked. You followed her to her exam room. Once inside your sat on the medical bed waiting for her to instruction.

“You know the routine Mr Stanley. Put your finger in the machine.”

You put your finger in the machine, feeling the usual sting of it. Despite the fact that you knew you respected the protocole and kept up with the prescribed double dosage you felt a touch of anxiety, the sour memory of when you got found peeking its head in your mind.

The machine beeped once done. The doctor looked at the results on the tablet, seeming satisfied. “Good, good. Still, for good measure, given your historic, let’s just do a hair test for an in depth analysis and I’ll do a full physical check”

You felt embarrassed, forced to expose yourself to this strange woman. She pluck one hair off your scalp, putting it in a machine. “Can you please undress now?” She said observing you.

You slid your pants and underwear revealing your small limp dicklet. It couldn’t be much more than one and a half inch in that limp state, the only state it saw in the last two months.

“The shirt too,” Dr Samson insisted coldly.

You remove your loose shirt, revealing your sports bra.

“Good, you listened to my recommendation for the bra,” the doctor noted.

You nodded, completely blushed. You then removed your bra, revealing your perky b-cup breast. Your nipples were hard as diamond. The doctor started by putting the cold metal of the stethoscope on the skin of your chest making you shiver.

“Breathe in deeply for me,” she asked, listening intently. “Now exhale.” She noted a few things on her tablet before continuing. “Lift your arms,” she ordered. She pressed at the junction of your armpits and breasts, feeling in that region before nodding. “Arms down,” she said. She then looked at your nipple touching it lightly. “We got some nice growth here,” she mentioned without emotion.

“I’d rather not,” you squeaked, in a shy rebelion. The doctor lifted an eyebrow at the comment.

She continued her examination, touching you at your waist, ass cheeks and finally your tiny limp cock. She played with it, looking under and feeling your small balls and nodding to herself.

*Beep* sounded a machine in the background. She looked at her tablet and read the results.

“Everything is looking good Mr Stanley. I guess it’s time, your double is done and let me get this,” she said looking for an item shuffling in one of her drawers. She pulled something that looked like a scanner gun. She pulled it to your cock. She pulled the trigger and a red light traced along the head of your small cock and a burning sensation ensued.

You flinched and grunted: “Ummh… What was that?” You asked, bringing your hands to your crotch.

“Just burning the glue of the petals of the limp flower,” she explained calmly. She then got her thumb and forefinger to your cocklet and pulled down on the foreskin. The skin was tiger than two months ago, it gave a bit of resistance before revealing a glan pinker than you ever remember having. On it were the ataşehir escort bayan translucent petals. The glove cover finger of the doctor peeled the petal off your glan, one by one. Once the were all peeled off, she pulled on the flower, pulling out the catheter stem like part of the flower. Finally, with a bit of precum on the tip of it, it finally came out entirely. Your cock began to come back alive. The one and a half cocklet inflated and curved upward standing proud at three inches in an incredibly hard state. It throbbed in the air, you began to breathe heavily.

“Doctor… I don’t know what’S going on… I’m going to…. Fuck” you whimpered before your little cock erupted and shot ropes after ropes of cum, the first few strings of it falling on Dr Samson face and lips. Her shocked expression finally broke her cold character.

She used a tissue, whipping her face but still her tongue licked up her lip by reflex.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. You felt embarrassed, but a part of you was happy that you had gotten that involuntary revenge.

She sighed before stating: “I should have expected that… That was the reason I installed the limp flower. Expect your little penis to be overly sensitive for at least the weekend. In the meanwhile,” the doctor trailed off again, looking for something in her drawer, pulling out a small tube of lotion marked “Lidocaine”. “I’ll applied today this and give you this, it’s a local anesthetic”

Dr. Samson, with a practiced efficiency that bordered on clinical detachment, squeezed a generous amount of the clear, slightly viscous lotion onto the latex-gloved finger of her left hand. The cool touch of the gel against her glove was the only warning before she reached for your still-erect penis. Her touch, though professional, sent a fresh wave of unexpected sensations through you. It wasn’t the raw, electrifying thrill of the ejaculation you had just experienced, but a more subtle, tingling awareness of her proximity and intent.

Her cool gloved fingers gently cradled the base of your throbbing member, her thumb positioned just beneath the head. With slow, deliberate strokes, she began to spread the lidocaine along the shaft, her touch surprisingly tender despite her otherwise detached demeanor. The cool sensation of the gel initially provided a slight contrast to the lingering heat of your recent climax. You watched, fascinated and slightly embarrassed, as her focused gaze remained fixed on her task, her brow furrowed in concentration.

As her fingers reached the incredibly sensitive head of your penis, a fresh wave of sensation, unexpected and potent, surged through you. It was different from the building pressure that led to the first ejaculation, a more localized and intensely pleasurable tingling that seemed to bypass your conscious control. Your breath hitched, and a low groan escaped your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut, a wave of heat flushing your face.

Before you could fully process what was happening, a series of involuntary twitches ran through your pelvic muscles. A small, surprised gasp escaped your throat as you felt the unmistakable sensation of another release building within you. It was smaller this time, less forceful, but undeniably there. A few more involuntary pulses, and a thin stream of clear fluid, tinged slightly white, erupted from the tip of your penis, landing directly onto the back of Dr. Samson’s latex-covered hand.

Your eyes snapped open, your face burning with a mixture of shame and a strange, almost bewildered pleasure. Dr. Samson paused her application, her gaze flickered down to her hand for a fleeting moment, and then back up to your face. Her expression remained largely impassive, though you could have sworn you saw a flicker of something — perhaps surprise, perhaps a hint of… something else? — in her cold blue eyes.

Without a word, she simply continued her task, spreading the remaining lotion over your penis, her movements as precise and unhurried as before. The initial coolness of the gel began to give way to a gentle warmth, a soothing sensation that spread rapidly through the incredibly sensitive skin of your penis. The throbbing began to subside, replaced by a pleasant, almost luxurious numbness. It wasn’t a deadening numbness, but more like a warm, comforting blanket enveloping your most sensitive parts, quieting the overstimulated nerve endings.

You watched as the last of the lotion was absorbed into your skin. The once proud and throbbing member began to soften slightly, not returning to its completely limp state, but settling into a more relaxed, pleasantly numb awareness. The intense sensitivity that had flared just moments ago was now muted, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling that extended from the tip of your glans down to the base. It felt… strangely good. A sense of relief washed over you as the lingering tension finally began to dissipate, the warm numbness taking over.

“Now Mr. Stanley, I suggest you apply this every 6 hours for the weekend, if you want to avoid any… accident.”

Again, you nodded, indicating you understood. You took the little cream tube with you, feeling free all of sudden. The limp flower was off and the double dosage was finished. Your state would finally stabilize if not even improve a bit.

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