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Clara was sat in a corner, skirts hitched up, hand in vagina, fingers playing with clit, finding it hard to believe that Dorothy’s daughter Anne, a girl older than her by over a year could be so naive when it came to sex and men. She was beginning to realise – and appreciate – just how much freedom she had been granted, helped by being sent away to be educated and then to a finishing school for young women, then, most exciting of all, provided with enough funds to enable her to tour the cities of Europe with friends; only possible because her parents were very wealthy members of the British nobility, a Lord and Lady. But from what she had learned since coming home it appeared that she could have had a more exciting time staying home.

Here was Dorothy and her husband Henry, just two of her mother’s friends who lived for sexual thrills. Yet their daughter, Anne, often referred to as a girl but was a young woman approaching her twentieth birthday was extremely naive and still a virgin. Here she was in the surreal situation whereby her mother was eager to indoctrinate her into the wicked sex cult that Clara’s own family had created several generations ago. Indeed her mother, Lady Amelia, was now the present day leader of that same cult, a woman who herself loved to indulge in extreme sins of the flesh.

Clara, in spite of her own love and experience of what was termed ‘carnal knowledge’ was amazed by how the staff, tenant farmers, game keepers, even the villagers were all in on the secret; all loved fucking and fornicating. Just why Dorothy and Henry had managed to keep their daughter so pure was a mystery – especially as Dorothy shared the fact that her husband, Anne’s biological father, had let it be known to her that he would love to fuck their daughter himself.

More surreal was the fact that mother and daughter were, in the company of four half naked sexually rampant Scandinavians known colloquially now as ‘The Vikings’ as the mother, dying to have the cocks of the young men up her cunt and maybe her anus too, was holding back because she now wanted said daughter to lose her maidenhead to any or all of these well-endowed men..

Clara looked across the room at the mother who was placing the hand of her drugged and intoxicated daughter on the upper thigh of a Norwegian man hardly an inch from the outline of his erect cock.

‘Shall we have them undress completely, Anne, I’m sure you know what that swelling is. They are excited by having us here – they have become aroused by the touch of our female hands caressing their bodies, as I have become aroused from feeling their rough hands on my breasts, rubbing my teats Are you feeling the same way, Anne, by having a hand on your tits and seeing the shape of an erect cock in the pants of the men. At your age, you surely must have thought about men and cocks many times. What do you say, Anne, shall we tell them to take off their trousers and look more closely at their erect cocks?’

‘I suppose so, mother.’

‘Good girl, Ann.’

Sven indicated to the men what the mother wanted them to do, which aroused them even more. When the men stripped off their trousers, leaving them in their ‘Long John’s’ their cocks had more room to rise. Anne watched wide-eyed as her mother reached out and felt, in turn, each of the large erect penises of the men, slipping her hand inside the underwear of one man to feel the hotness of his erect penis.

Clara saw Anne drain the remnants of alcohol in her glass so stepped forward to pour more. The girl looked fascinated by what was inside the underwear, and from seeing her mother thrust her hand inside one man’s garment to hold his ‘John Thomas.’ She was no longer concerned that the man on whose lap she sat had unfastened her bodice completely and taken out her tits.

‘Shall I go in your handbag and give Anne another of your little pills? Clara asked the older woman.

‘Oh, yes, please do that, she is becoming totally submissive and compliant. Pity there isn’t more time!’

The door had opened without anyone noticing; Lady A walked in and quietly spoke to Dorothy.

‘You have all the time in the world. After your husband spent some time fucking me up the arse I let him rest then told Benson to find some female to keep him entertained. He produced the delightful Emma together with a young scullery maid named Tilly. Your husband will be hoping he has the rest of the day to ravage the young servants. In fact I told him I’d keep you from spoiling his fun!’

Clara gave Anne the second little pill and made sure she swallowed it down.

‘She will be ready in a few minutes,’ Dorothy said quietly.

‘Will your husband not be disappointed to learn some other man has taken her virginity?’ Amelia asked.

‘No, my husband will prefer her cunt to be ready and broken in when he fucks her. And not to have her drugged or drunken – to be fully aware that it is her daddy who has his cock inside her and is giving her a good fucking – one of many!’

‘So, do we get to fuck giresun escort your daughter today – take her virginity?’ Sven asked, with disbelief.

Dorothy looked up at him, while still slowly wanking the foreskin of the cock she was holding.

‘Yes!’ she said in no uncertain terms. ‘You all get to fuck my daughter this very day! Then as each man recovers – he has to fuck me!’

Anne was looking dreamy eyed.

‘Now it’s our turn to take off some garments, Ann,’ her mother said. ‘It’s only fair that we should undress too and show the men our bodies. Do you agree Anne?’

‘Yes, mother.’

‘Good girl, let the men take off your clothes.’

Dorothy watched as the men undressed her daughter, their cocks visibly twitching impatient for their cocks to feel the inside of her virgin cunt. The mother stripped off her own clothing ready to hold down her offspring should she struggle. Clara and her mother showed no shame in lifting their skirts and removing their pantaloons so they had better access to finger their cunts while they watched the girl being violated, her virginity taken.

When Anne was naked her mother instructed her to grasp the waistband of the first man’s long underwear and yank them down. Anne obeyed without question but was not ready for the long thick cock that sprang up in her face.

The mother moved to hold the thick shaft with one hand and the head of her daughter with the other.

‘Open your mouth wide, sweetheart.’

Ann wretched a little when the monster cock hit the back of her throat, but mother made sure the weapon stayed in the mouth of her daughter.

‘Suck on it!’ commanded her mother, pulling the foreskin back and forth.

‘We should take her upstairs to the bedroom, now,’ Lady Amelia said.

Dorothy took the cock from her daughter’s mouth and put it in her own, wanking it even faster. Losing her self control she then stood and rammed the cock up her cunt.

‘Fuck me hard!’ she ordered the man. ‘I need to be fucked hard.’

Lady A rose up walked over to Anne and guided her up the staircase telling the other three men to follow on. Clara followed behind and took off her gown, giving herself the task of making sure the cocks of the men stayed hard by masturbating and sucking them. She saw her mother lay the almost comatose Ann down on the bed and taking some sort of ointment from a drawer, spread her thighs and lubricate the young girl’s cunt and anus. Clara was quite surprised when her mother then stripped off her clothing obviously expecting and intending to enjoy some sort of sex herself.

Holding Anne down Lady A asked who wanted to be the first man to fuck the girl. When a man stepped forward Amelia lubricated his cock then held the arms of the girl tighter while he worked his hard cock against the so-called virgin cunt lips pushing forward gradually until he fully penetrated her.

‘Enjoy yourself with her, though I expect you’ve realised by now that this girl is no more a virgin than I am! I hope you and your friends are not too disappointed.’

Clara, taken by surprise at that comment, knew not to question her mother’s claim. If anyone could tell the difference between a girl claiming to be a virgin and a genuine one, it would surely be her mother.

Lady A turned and spoke to her daughter.

‘If Dorothy hadn’t made herself busy opening her thighs for the man downstairs she would be here to realise her daughter is no virgin but she obviously is an excellent liar and actress!’

‘I think she overplayed her apparent innocence and sexual naivety,’ Clara agreed. ‘Given she is older than I, she raised my suspicions. Neither has she been rendered almost unconscious by just two little pills, I am familiar with them, they are not that strong. Also for a girl unused to strong drink she has managed to consume more than enough without suffering any bad affects. She is probably listening to everything we say.’

‘Come over here men,’ Amelia ordered the remaining couple who were patiently awaiting their turn to copulate with the young woman. ‘Fuck her any way you like, as hard as you like. She might even enjoy a cock in every hole!’

The little twist in the tale was explained to the non- English speaking Nordics who set about ravaging Anne like wild animals; she soon dropped the act and became very awake when she had a cock in both cunt and anus pounding her until the bedstead shook and rattled. A third cock in her mouth silenced any protest. Amelia not happy to have stripped off her gowns for nothing took great delight in climbing on the bed, taking the cock from Anne’s mouth and after using it to frig herself for a couple of minutes, plunged it back between the girls lips, making her lick and suck off her vaginal juices,

‘The next one you taste will have been up my back passage!’ Lady A whispered to Anne.

Leaving the men to take their pleasure Amelia and Clara went downstairs to find Dorothy straddling her young yalova escort blonde lover panting away, about to reach her orgasm, her tits bouncing and wobbling like jellies. They waited until the woman’s orgasm came and she burst into vocal cries, uttering profanities before collapsing over the muscular male.

‘How is my daughter handling her first fuck? I know I should have been there to witness the event.’

‘Your daughter probably enjoyed her first fuck a couple of years ago. She is not a virgin and I’m sure she must have known she’d be found out today. I have to say, Dorothy that if you and Henry had paid closer attention and not been so self absorbed you would have seen through the pretence a long time ago. In any case, Anne is at the moment, being thoroughly well fucked, taking three cocks simultaneously.’

‘I’m almost envious,’ Dorothy said, facetiously, ‘I’m also wondering if I know the people who she has had sex with – especially the one who really did take her virginity. I have an idea to teach her a lesson, which could provide some interesting entertainment.’

‘Leave her here overnight – I’ll get Wilson to drive her back home after breakfast. You could tell Henry she’s a little inebriated and needing to lie down.’

So that’s how it was left. Henry had such an enjoyable afternoon in a bedroom with Emma and Tilly that his mind was on other things, not questioning the story Dorothy gave him.

‘Could you go across to the cottage and check on Anne – I expect she will benefit from having a hot bath and a meal,’ Amelia suggested to Clara.

A couple of minutes later, when Clara entered the cottage the sound of squeaking bed springs were heard from the bedroom. Quietly climbing the staircase and peering through the door, Clara was surprised to see young Anne still fornicating with all four men. She was straddling one facing away from him while another was standing in front of her having his cock sucked, her arms were outstretched both hands masturbating a penis. Clara watched for a couple of minutes then when all changed positions she realised the cock Anne straddled was up her anus. When it came to loving sex and taking a penis in any and all holes Anne was truly her mother’s daughter!

‘I have come to see if you’d like a maid to run a bath for you, and mother thought you’d be ready for a meal – though I can see you’ve bathed in sperm and your mouth is already full!’

Anne didn’t flinch one bit; though she did pause and reveal a couple of facts.

‘Yes, I think that is a good idea. I apologise for involving you and your mother in my play-acting, I did hear you both talking. Witnessing the amazing scenes this afternoon made me realise that I could have had much more fun by being honest about my love of sex. Seeing how keen my mother was to initiate me into surrendering my body up to experience the pleasures of fornicating proved very arousing for me. I’m afraid force of habit prevented me from showing my true colours. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to do this again, so will you undress and join in with us while I savour the moment for one last time?’

Clara had been going about life thinking she was unique when it came to sexual matters – now she had met her match, a like-minded young woman.

‘I would be pleased to join you and these four amazing insatiable men with their delicious cocks. They have enjoyed me before and they know that like you, I can take cock in any orifice. Does your love of fornication extend to taking pleasure with members of the same sex?’

‘That sounds exciting – pleasured by a cock and a cunt at the same time!’

It was over an hour later before the two females returned to the manor house.

‘You have been a long time?’ Lady A commented.

Clara gave an honest answer.

‘Our Viking friends and Anne were still busy fucking – and I was invited to join them on the bed.’

‘Really?’ said Clara’s mother, totally unfazed by the admission. ‘Then I expect you have both worked up an appetite. We will eat when you’ve both bathed – I prefer not to dine when there is an odour of stale sperm in the room. The maid will appreciate you both sharing the same tub, making her workload a little easier, plus it will save time, then we can eat. If you can fornicate together then you can bathe together.’

When the girls were in the bathtub chatting away, Clara asked a question.

‘If you had made your love of sex known and attended the events at Weston, how would you have coped with performing with men in the presence of your parents? Your mother was the driving force today, but at age 18, would you have been comfortable fucking and sucking numerous men in the presence of your father. What, if this afternoon that instead of me, it had been your father who had discovered you with four men, one with a cock up your backside another filling your mouth with his big member?’

‘A good question and one I have thought about many times. I don’t yozgat escort know, but I sensed quite a long time ago that my father had begun to look at me in a different way. I suspect he would have stayed and watched – but a problem might have manifested itself in the following months if he had expected me to grant him the same sexual favours.’

‘Are you confident you would have refused him?’

‘Again, I don’t know for sure. But I have a dark secret appertaining to a similar situation though not involving my father, which I might tell you about in the fullness of time.’

Clara didn’t press her for the salacious details.

The evening meal was devoured with relish, all feeling the pangs of hunger after their busy afternoon. The three females retired to the parlour and sipped gin as they talked about the day’s events. Anne talked more about how she now regretted the attitude and false persona she had adopted. Lady A, said she fully understood why it would have been very difficult at age eighteen for her to admit to having a strong fondness for indulging in forbidden sex.

‘Is it the ‘forbidden’ element of a sexual situation that fires up your feelings of lust and excites you?’ Clara asked.

Anne looked knowingly at both women. ‘I would wager that if truth be known that we three would have to admit that is the case for all of us. Your penchant for practising, taboo and normally forbidden acts is surely the main reason you devote so much time to operating your select and somewhat elite cult. This afternoon you both became very aroused when you thought you were assisting in allowing four men to deflower a virgin.’

‘Perhaps not as sexually aroused as your own mother was!’ Lady A interjected, ‘Who displayed much enthusiasm and joy when she had the men undress in front of you. I have to wonder if your father would have been as highly aroused had he been present.’

‘Do you suspect that it is likely he would have enjoyed seeing four naked men take my virginity?’

‘Very much so, yes,’ Lady Amelia told the girl.

‘Can I ask why you think that M’lady?’

‘You can drop the formality Anne – we know many of each other’s secrets. Your mother and I often confide in each other. She has mentioned how your father very much admires your development as a woman.’

‘May I put it in more plain language? How he lusts over me is a more accurate statement. I have noticed the look in his eye. I vaguely alluded to this when speaking to Clara earlier.’

‘Then you may know that is part of the reason your mother is eager to, let us say – break you in. The admission your father made to her that he definitely does lust over you, greatly turns her on.’

‘My goodness that is something which I didn’t know about! I thought she just wanted me to join in your parties because it would make her feel less guilty having her daughter involved. So you mean, my mother gets a thrill from thinking about how daddy would love to fuck me? My goodness!’

‘She would like to make that happen. She is also curious as to who the person was that took your virginity.’

‘I mentioned to Clara, that there is a dark secret I have kept. As today has been a day filled with revelations and admissions and we have spoken freely about things sexual, I think I’d like to share it with you both.

‘Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, my grandfather, who was then still running the family business, gave me work in the accounts department. I was under the supervision of an accountant, a man around forty years of age. He was very attractive and alluring, almost hypnotic. One day he asked me to work late and when we were alone in the office he made a pass at me to which I didn’t object. All this was new to me and even a simple touch felt exciting. When he progressed to putting his hands on my breasts unfastening my bodice to put his hand inside my clothing while he kissed me, I experienced, for the first time, real and powerful sexual feelings. I let him go further and in short over many weeks he progressed to lifting my skirts and fingering my cunny. I loved every minute of it and when one evening he turned me round and bent me over a desk, lifting my clothing I submitted to his will. That was the night I was fucked for the first time. It happened many more times over months, either leaning against the desk or bending over and being taken from behind.

One night I was being taken from behind bent over the desk, telling the man how good it felt when a noise interrupted our fucking, causing us both to stop and turn around. Standing behind us was grandfather, who told us he had been watching for a considerable amount of time.

‘The conversation that followed between the men isn’t important but eventually the accountant was told to leave. I was told to stay and stood silent waiting for grandfather to read me the riot act and take me home to inform my parents of my wicked behaviour. Instead I was shocked to hear him order me to once again face the desk, lift up my skirt and bend over. I was astonished to feel grandfather’s cock pushing against my vagina. He fucked me hard and I’m ashamed to admit that, he being an older man he found it difficult to climax, but for me it proved to be a good thing because he was able to thrust away for a long time, giving me much pleasure, allowing me experience powerful orgasms.’

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

It was all over the news. Streets had been shut down up to six blocks out. Helicopters circled far above, keeping their distance for fear their rotors might blow something loose and send the stuff out into the population below. In the streets, people screamed and ran, cars honking incessantly as they crammed to leave the area. Highways were blocked up more than they usually were, and the only things still moving near the building were the alien-like hazmat guys, their bodies covered in thick, spacesuit-like exo-suits, capable of keeping them safe from anything, from fresh bubonic plague to intense ionising radiation, for at least a moderate time period.

‘Panic grips the heart of L.A. as residents from every corner of the state rush to leave their homes and flee.’ a cute blonde said into a camera as she spoke before a greenscreen from a neighbouring state’s newsroom. Even here there seemed to be a commotion. ‘We’re seeing what could be over a million people abandoning their cars and running on foot, and we cannot find a highway that isn’t backed up with cars. People are abandoning their workplaces, their schools and their homes in fear of this strange, transformative mist that has descended upon and inexplicably changed one simple apartment tower, deep in the heart of Los Angeles.’

‘I called it,’ an angry man shouted into his camera as he broadcast himself on the internet, his face beetroot red, ‘I KNEW it, these damn government doo-hickies have finally gone and set off one of their weird, freakish sex viruses in our own cities. First it was the frogs, now it’s fucking LA!’

‘No word yet,’ a second reporter, a lanky black man said as he stood in the wind, ‘on whether or not this highway will ever clear up; with a panic like this, there’s no guarantee you’re getting even a few feet out of town by sunfall.’

‘I- I just didn’t know what to do,’ a red-headed woman said, her skin-tight dress clinging to her body as her immaculate makeup refused to budge beneath her suspiciously dry tears, the morning show hosts beside her looking forlorn and consulate, ‘I remembered hearing it as people rushed past and I thought – my god, Sally, is this it? Has the Sunday Church and the 401-K and the celibacy really landed you here?’ She sniffed, giving one of the hosts a chance to ask a question. ‘Well, no I- I wasn’t actually near the tower, but I was close enough to hear the first broadcast on the news…’

Outside the building, pandemonium reigned supreme, but she didn’t care. At that moment, Polly Jean was shuddering in bliss as she inhaled a fresh lungful of the slightly pink-tinged air, rippling waves of skin-tingling pleasure coursing through her. She blinked, opened her eyes – and seemed to stare right through the window before her, into a world of multi-colored stars that swam and gleamed all around her as she moved. She moaned softly as the lights made her senses tingle all over again and fell from her office chair to land on her knees before the full-height glass, pressing herself against it, not caring who might see or what kind of a stain she might leave, wrapped only in the intoxicating bliss.

Moments earlier, Polly had frowned as her employee, the young, promising Karen Hancock from the development team, had suddenly sat upright in her chair, inhaling deeply. It had only taken a moment – then, Karen was pulling the rather tight and certainly not cheap button-up from her chest, sighing as she ran both hands over her bra, clenching her breasts in each hand as she let out a full-bodied moan of what could only—and inexplicably—be ecstasy.

That had been a second or so before Polly had scented the stuff herself. Once she’d inhaled it, she quickly forgot about Karen, her own erzurum escort nipples instantly and powerfully coming to life with shocking power. She grasped them inside her shirt, groaning as the electricity that doing so generated surged through her, lighting her nether regions on fire. As she breathed in more deeply, the fine pink mist flying into her lungs, her body came alive, tingling and rippling all over. That was when she had turned to her windows, seen the lights flash to life behind her eyelids, and sunk to her knees to satiate the mind-melting pleasure driving her.

Grunting, Polly moaned as her crotch blistered with heat, and kneading it with one fist, she felt the fires of arousal stoking in an orgasm, as even just the light touch through her skirt set her clit to a heavy vibration. Quickly she tore off what she could, shuddering viscerally as the sensation of fabric sliding over her skin made her nerves fire so powerfully that she swayed on her knees, biting her lip so hard it drew blood. She fumbled at her crotch to loosen her skirt, but already she was beginning to change beneath it. By the time her shaking hands closed around the button of her skirt and began to depress it, it was nearly bursting apart from the inside.

Polly had been a slim, curvy woman, tall and shapely through a long and diligent workout regimen with a touchy, imported instructor who cost her more per year than her car did in one lump sum. She had learned two martial arts, could hold the downward dog and the splits for three minutes, ran a mile in under eight and had memorised and perfected eleven uncommon karma sutra positions (with a mutual friend, naturally.) She was an up-and-comer; and at thirty-six, she was doing damn well for a woman in a man’s world.

Now, Polly pressed her breasts up against the window, the cold stimulating her thundering nerves as her chest began to billow outward, stretching and growing as her skin rippled before her, pushing her away from the window as her modest, perky, and attractive Cs turned into voluptuous Js. Polly screamed in bliss and arched her back as her ass echoed the sudden sensations, growing with a soft rubbery sound as the fabric of her skirt tore stiffly around it, leaving threads clinging tightly to her skin as a gigantic, wobbling backside blossomed to life. What clothes Polly had not taken off in her sudden heat simply tore from her as her skin expanded spontaneously, and as her panties fell away from her, now just a useless rag, her quaking nether regions began to drip and dribble as a spontaneous orgasm surged forth from her cunt.

Behind her, Karen grunted as she pressed one hand between her growing thighs, biting her own arm to stop herself from gasping throatily as wetness flowed from her pussy, cumming a thick stream around her own hand. She leaned on Polly’s desk, bucking, her newly grown breasts dangling free before her in the air, the collar of her shirt still somehow clinging on around her neck, now the only part of her clothing still to remain vaguely intact. She fingered hard, orgasm flowing seemingly non-stop as pleasure burned her very brain, turning her into a stupid, sex-crazed beast intent on only one thing; making her new body feel as good as was humanly possible.

As Polly’s orgasm subsided and she collapsed over herself, at last seemingly finished with her sudden growth and sexual expulsion, something seemed to stir between her legs. Looking down, panting and horny as hell, she just had time to peer between two gigantic tits before an inexplicable, rippling growth seemed to begin. It hurt; but in a way that could only be described as the most impossible, wonderful, eskişehir escort terrible pleasure Polly had never felt before.

Polly could do nothing to stop the fresh orgasm as it rocked her world, making her pussy thunder even as her clit morphed, growing rapidly outwards, every tiny stretch taking the nerves in the sensitive nub with it. She screamed in ecstasy and bucked as if she were fucking someone against the window as her clit reached out before her, stiffening, hardening, growing into a more solid shaft, curving upwards in front of her body, pressing the upper edge of her pussy shut beneath it until it stood, proud and hard before her – a brand new, thick, long cock, complete with male helmet and bubbling lubricant already at the tip.

Polly’s hands closed around the length and she let her sweaty breasts and deformed cheek hold her upright as she pumped her newfound shaft, stimulating her new male appendage and bringing herself to ejaculation within a few pumps, spurting freshly-made semen tinged with a pink hue against the glass, where it ran slowly down, leaving a sticky trail behind it. Beneath the female penis, Polly’s pussy squirted as it, too, shared in her orgasm.

When Polly finally struggled to her feet, her new body weighty yet surprisingly buoyant, she found her previous colleague standing nearby, one hand wrapped around a matching fresh cock shaft.

‘Spread.’ Karen said monotonously, her wide eyes turned pink with the influence of the mysterious mist.

‘Spread.’ Polly agreed in her own droning response, her voice flat yet her body alive with pleasure of an intensity never before felt by a woman alive. It seemed as if the Polly from minutes earlier had been sapped away, ejaculated out of her, now sinking slowly down the glass windows behind her, as this repurposed body focussed body and mind alike on one all-encompassing goal. Turning as one, the two women walked towards Polly’s office door, hands on penises, bouncing breasts leading the way, only a dribble of lubricating wetness marking their path as it poured down their bare thighs.

In the hallway outside, a woman walked with her arms out like a zombie, chasing slowly after someone who had just disappeared into a nearby doorway. Her own glorious womanhood stood proudly in the air ahead of her, preceded only by two thick, stiff nipples. As Polly and Karen stepped like robots from their doorway, they began towards the disturbance, walking evenly and steadily, their generous man-and-woman-bits jerking and shaking with each step. They stared forwards, blank faces intent on only a new target; their only other motion, the slow, stroking motions of their hands as they stimulated their new body parts relentlessly. They were following their new directive; to spread the strange, mysterious mist.

Nearby, a man backed away as someone stood from behind a boardroom table, silhouetted by the light pouring in from the window behind them. Where just moments ago had sat a man, proud and plain and well-respected, now hulked a shapely figure with a massive chest, a chest that bulged through the ripped fibres of his neat blue suit shirt. He—it—stalked around the table, and as the light fell across him, the man gawked at what he saw. His manager, with whom he had been having a performance meeting less than a minute earlier, was gone, replaced now with a pink-eyed, pink-lipped woman, her long hair flowing from her head, her suit jacket splayed wide around two generous breasts that had grown from where none had been. As he-now she-approached, the man took few more quick puffs on his inhaler, confused and terrified. Then, his back hit the wall, and he gaziantep escort screamed as his attacker closed in.

The clothes were torn off first, roughly, fingers scratching his chest. Then, those pink lips suckered to his face, his chest, his stomach, his navel. He could feel the drag of those breasts as her nipples scraped his skin, and despite himself as his pants were pulled asunder, he stiffened slightly. When those puffy lips closed around him, he couldn’t stop himself from growing to his full, if modest strength inside those generous pillows. It was already far too late for him, even by her first kiss on his cheek.

He hadn’t noticed it at first-perhaps he was finally turning too, he couldn’t know-but at some point, his ex-manager had stripped what was left of her clothing too. Now, she she sat up above him, her buoyant chest bouncing and rolling, two pink nipples starting to drip a pink-hued liquid. He caught sight of her crotch just in time to see the penis she had once harboured between her legs as a male, warping and growing as it began to adjust itself. Her testicles fused with her body, and he watched as, before his very eyes, her body began to transform the previously male genitalia into a hybridised asexual organ. A dark gash split the skin where the base of the shaft and balls had been, and the parted skin folded quickly into that of a labia, filling the space beneath the cock which had grown to a generous, veiny pole where her clitoris should have been. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the newly created depths of a vagina gazed back at him, almost instantly dampening in heat as the he-woman’s body began to go to work.

‘Spread.’ The transformed woman said monotonously, wide eyes staring down at him as she leaned over him. He tried to pull away – but it was no use. Pinioned in a corner as he was, he could only watch the breast as it descended over him until he felt the thick, soft nipple pressing between his lips, her tight bosom stiff enough to push against his face and hold him down beneath its sheer mass. He had no choice; his lips closed around it even as he felt the fluid beginning to squirt into his mouth, and unable to think or even breathe, though he fought it desperately, he quickly swallowed.

Everything changed instantly. Within three pulls he was suckling lovingly on the teat, all care gone from his mind as the pink secretions filled him up. He weakened beneath her, no longer resisting her approaches, and the last thing he felt before his brain exploded with thought-destroying, self-eliminating pleasure was the puffy wet pussy of his attacker slipping down over his hard cock, taking him to the hilt effortlessly in one swift, impossibly tight descent. As he pulled deep draughts of the tainted breast milk down, gulping from the flowing teat now, his last conscious thought was of his orgasm as he ejaculated inside the fresh new cunt – and then the overpowering arousal surged through him and wiped his brain clean.

Sixty seconds later, grunting in bliss, the asthmatic man shook as two round breasts ballooned from his chest, nipples turning pink and swelling with milk as he was converted. His cock throbbed and split at its base, reforming into a new, soaked pussy, and as he sat up from beneath the woman who had ensured he get his dose of the pink substance, his wide eyes surged from within with a pink wash, recolouring from their natural white to a glowing pinkness. His face softened, and only his shuddering shakes as he experienced powerful orgasm after powerful orgasm caused any movement at all now. When it had finished emerging beneath his enhanced manhood, the man’s vagina squirted with wetness, staining the carpet between his legs even as his growing pole stretched the body of his former manager, still sitting atop him.

Eventually, she stood, stepping away from the newly converted drone. For its part, the once nerdy little man, now voluptuous, brainless doll rose to its feet, looking blankly at its counterpart.

‘Spread.’ He said monotonously.

‘Spread.’ Repeated the other.

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Author’s Note

This is the 3K+ final chapter of the novella of the same name. Father and daughter in a divorce rebound femdom relationship have reached the limit of what is emotionally healthy for them to explore. The four powerful forces of incest, romance, dominance and submission, and non-consent are threatening to hurt them both. So the daughter, who is the partner in control and the one still most attached to reality, decides it is time to call it quits. Even as she dreads she is going to hurt her father, and herself, in the process of doing so. But for half a year the Goddess-slave relationship has been building up. The extreme lust and devotion, and the addiction to the taste of being the object of such extreme lust and devotion. And it is unlikely the lust birds will get off scot-free. The previous chapters were all femdom or fetish driven in varying degrees. Though the femdom and fetish context remains, this last chapter is more a tragic romance. If you have read this far you probably want to know how do August and Jonathan end. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6-Final

August and Jonathan had a short restless night in their hotel room during their city weekend escapade. But in the end, August was happy her miscalculation did not end up costing them more. That blowing past her father’s hard cuckoldry limits, did not end up in irreparable tragedy. Regardless, she felt that the femdom games were done for the weekend, and that the most loving version of her father’s vanilla girlfriend is what she needed to be for the rest, while she kept a very close eye on her father and made sure he was ok. So after getting up, they had breakfast, checked out, and left for a couple of more tourist activities before they drove back home.

August and Jonathan took a river boat tour that left from very near their hotel, and provided excellent views of many of the monuments and other city landmarks. August even sat on her father’s lap, and hung onto his neck with her arms, through much of it. Even if she thought the extended public display of the affection was a little much, even for a presumably ordinary pair of vanilla lovebirds.

Once that was done they drove a little west upriver, just outside the official city limits but well within the suburban area, and took a very short hike to a spectacular waterfall that marked the end of the piedmont, and the beginning of the coastal lowlands, this part of the country. And while they looked at the turbulent but at the same time peaceful spray of water from a viewing platform on the side of the river, August cuddled between Jonathan’s arms, and wrapped herself in them. Father and daughter in one of their most romantic and extended embraces of their incestuous relationship. While August reflected how much she loved him, how much he loved her back, but that they were beginning to hurt each other, and that that, just could not be.

****

Over the next month August agonized endlessly about her relationship with her father and lover. It was even affecting her school and her sleep, but no matter how hard and for how long she thought about it she could only find one logical next step, and that was to end it. Even more than that, they would have to take a break from seeing each other, from talking to each other even, in any capacity. Because they were in it too deep, and it would be impossible to find themselves again otherwise. And she hated that solution, because it was going to hurt both of them, particular Jonathan who she felt she was going to leave more empty than she had found him that fateful Saturday half a year ago. And she hated herself for it. For taking him, and herself down that path. But she really saw no other way. So for a month she kind of avoided communicating with him. And when their usual fifth weekend or so get together was coming up, she did not tell her father to prepare for any trip. Only that she would be there to talk with him at noon.

In her two hour drive west along highway 85, August even cried alone in her car. She had no suitcase this time, but in her pocket she constantly touched the key to Jonathan’s chastity cage even as she drove.

When she finally made it to her father’s house, rang his doorbell, and let herself in with her key, she found that Jonathan had prepared himself a small weekend suitcase and that it waited on the entrance hall. August’s heart broke.

“Hi August.”

Said Jonathan, as puppy dog as ever.

“You gave me no indication where we were going, so I packed a little bit for everything. Beach, mountain, city, I can make do if needed.”

Oh, god! Thought August. Please no!

“Hi Jonathan. I am sorry, but we need to talk.”

She said. Making her way to one of her father’s living room tekirdağ escort couches. And.

“Oh. Ok.”

He answered, while August paused for a minute to compose herself.

“Jonathan. I need you to come over here, pull your pants down, and kneel.”

And Jonathan actually smiled, thinking August was about to start in some femdom game. Oh, god! Please, do not make this so hard! Thought August as she read her father’s mind.

Jonathan did as he instructed, as he presented himself, like a good chastity slave, to his Mistress. While August, looking to his caged manhood, rather than his eyes, pulled the key from her pocket, slid it into the padlock, and turning it, unlocked her father from it. Moreover, she unthreaded the padlock from the cock-cage connector pin. And having put the padlock on a side table, proceeded to take the rest of the cock-cage apart with her hands, until her father was in chastity no more. Then she looked into his eyes.

“Jonathan… I came to do this in person, and to tell you in person that… –I am sorry, it is best if I get to the point–… We have to stop. This has to end. And we have to take a break from seeing each other.”

And with a knot on her throat August waited for her father to say something. But for a minute Jonathan gave his daughter a blank expression. Did not move. Or say a word. Just stayed rooted, still on his knees with his pants around his ankles before his daughter. Then, as if he had not heard a word, smiling again, he said.

“August. I actually bought you something I want you to have. And maybe wear?”

And reaching for a pocket of the pair of pants that were around his ankles, Jonathan pulled out a very small velvet jewelry gift box, and with trembling hands handed it to his daughter.

“I love you, August.”

He said. And August thought. You got to be kidding me! He is gone off the deep end this time! Certifiably insane! And her heart tore in two again, at the position her father was putting her in.

“Jonathan. As I have said before. I love you too. And I know you love me. But you are not well. You are lost. And I am so, so,so sorry for my part in that. I never meant to hurt you. I am truly so, so, so sorry. You are making me cry. But you know you cannot give that to me. And you know I cannot take it from you.”

“But August, you have not even opened it yet!”

Protested Jonathan, with some tears in his eyes.

“I do not have to. I know what is inside it. And you have to take it back.”

Indeed August knew it could, plausibly, be a pair of earrings. Or a maybe a small bracelet. Too small for a necklace. Some other plausibly innocent father-daughter gift perhaps. But she knew it was not. Most likely it was a ring. And if she knew her father, and what he thought and loved about her, she could even guess it most likely sported a big blue sapphire, rather than a diamond, as its centerpiece. Either way, she was not going to even touch it. She had accepted many gifts from her father these last few months. She was not going to accept this one.

“Jonathan, I am not the Goddess you think I am. And I am certainly not your Goddess.”

Added August with tears in her eyes.

“August, you most certainly are a Goddess. And you most definitely are my Goddess.”

Then answered Jonathan, who also with tears, moved down to kiss August’s knee.

Indeed that day, August was wearing a white summer dress, and a pair of wedge sandals, that she had worn for her father on their beach vacation. The same ensemble she had worn for their romantic dinner for two. The same ensemble she had worn to reject and dash his hope of consummating their sexual relationship that night. And it did leave her exposed from just above the knee to her feet. And though she was not rough, nor did she say anything, as her father moved to her knee August did hold on to his head to slow down, and restrict, his movement. “Easy there, Jonathan!” Is what she thought of his move.

But Jonathan was not deterred. And slowly, lovingly, full of devotion, a lot like he had once worshiped her feet, he planted small, slowly creeping, devoted kiss, after small, slowly creeping, devoted kiss on his daughter’s leg as he crept up her thigh. Jonathan did not even look up to August, but again was in a tunnel vision state, in complete adoration of August’s thigh. Letting his face, rather than his hand, as stealthily as he could, push August’s hem up as he went.

“Jonathan… please…”

Did beg August eventually. She wanted her father to decide to stop. But she could not bring herself to ask him to stop. Not to mention begging was totally out of character to the relationship they had had tokat escort for a half year. A relationship she had come this day to end.

“Jonathan. Please. I said. You are making this difficult.”

And Jonathan did take a couple of pauses between kisses to look up at his daughter, from being on his knees between her increasingly parted thighs to ask.

“August, “please” what?”

“Jonathan. Please.”

Is all August repeated. If August asked “stop”, Jonathan had no doubt he would do it. But he was not going to spell it out for her, because he absolutely did not want her to ask him to stop!

And Jonathan continued kissing his way up the inside of August’s thigh.

Oh god! Thought August. If he is trying to convince me I am a Goddess, his Goddess, he is doing a good job of it! The prick! The asshole!

And Jonathan continued kissing his way up the slim long legged blonde’s thigh. Till he ran out of runway. Her hem all the way up to her hips, and a pair of panties impeding further progress. And then Jonathan did slide each of his hands up the outside of each of August’s thighs. Threading them under her dress. And when he got to her hips, simultaneously lifting her up slightly, and pulling her panties, he slid those later off all the way down her legs and out.

“Uuhhumm!”

Went August at that, as she laid thighs parted, pantyless before her father. And added.

“You are an asshole!”

But did not physically or verbally push back further than that. Then Jonathan moved in deep between her thighs, and then is when the true devotion started.

Oh my god! Thought August. As Jonathan’s first kissed his facial lips to her nether lips. Kissed her nub. Then started licking between each of her folds, as he periodically stopped to kiss her nub again. You prick! Your asshole! I hate you! She thought silently as her pleasure began to rise like a preheating oven. There was so much devotion in Jonathan’s worship! The prick had half a year worth of boundless devotion to give, and he was spending it all with abandon. She still held onto his head. And on occasion took handfuls of his hair in hand. But she was not moving to shove the 40 year old man’s head between her thighs away. Fine! She thought. If he needs this, let him have it. Get it out of his system! It would only make him heal quicker if he did not think of her as the one that got away. She only had to stay there, thighs parted, and let him do what he needed to do.

Jonathan thought August was super soft, and super sweet. He had never tasted a woman as sweet, in fact. August’s mother, Skylar, was close, but like so many other comparisons between mother and daughter, the mother seemed to pale in comparison. He did recall that Skylar was always sweeter during ovulation, and he, very, very briefly, wondered whether August was currently ovulating too. But that thought was forgotten as he moved on to thinking, he had to show her she was a Goddess, she was his Goddess. And that “breaking up” was a stupid, hurtful, wasteful idea. Until.

“Ihm!”

Eventually yelped mutedly August, all but ripping a clump of hair off Jonathan’s scalp, as an orgasmic wave travelled all the way from her vagina, out through the rest of the body.

“Ihm, ihm, ihm!”

Yelped mutedly a little more August, till she gained enough composure to repeat to Jonathan.

“You asshole! You prick!”

While she let go of his head and scalp finally, relaxed her legs further open, and throwing her head back, just settled in to relax to let him continue doing what he was doing.

Jonathan was in heaven. He had wanted to do what he was doing for so long. And August’s thin long thighs around his face was the most comfortable place he had ever been. She smelled divine. She tasted divine. How could she say she was not a Goddess? And he felt if this Goddess severed the umbilical cord that bound him to her the trauma would be intense. An agony and anguish he did not even want to think about, let alone face. She could not break up with him. She could not force him to take some time apart. And he put all his soul into giving her intense pleasure.

“Ihm!”

Went another muted, high pitch yelp from August. Another orgasm that exploded from her vagina outward. This was going to be so hard! She thought after a minute of bringing herself back together. Incest, romance, dominance and submission, and non-consent were too much for a single couple to handle. And it really could never work. It was never meant too. It was just meant to be a low key, short term thing. But she had not counted with the slippery slope of intense sexual emotional commitment. And they were both neck deep in the quagmire trabzon escort before they even realized. Thought August, as the time seemed to stretch and stand still in the moment of intimacy between her and her father.

“Ihm!”

“Enough! Jonathan!”

She finally said to her father after her third orgasm, as he lifted his face from between her thighs. Face wet with her nectar. But Jonathan did not stop moving. Slowly, like in slow motion almost, he almost picked her up in his arms, as he then proceeded to lay her lengthwise on the couch that up till now she sat and leaned on.

“Jonathan…”

“August.”

“Jonathan. Do not make this harder.”

August whispered a protest as Jonathan took his place over her and between her legs. August could now feel him. So close. Hard and moist and ready. She felt panic. It was not the first time she had felt his body above her. But it was the first time he was fully armed and she was fully unarmored. And she could tell Jonathan was not thinking. At this moment, she knew he was acting on a need to claim her. And she knew she could stop it, with the right words. But she wanted him to do it of his own initiative. She did not want to be responsible for saying the words.

“Oh! Jonathan…”

She finally said when her father penetrated her. He started slow. It was one thrust every ten seconds at first.

“Uugh.”

August vocalized at the first thrust.

“Uugh.”

After the second.

“Uugh…uugh…”

As they started, slowly, getting faster. And she wrapped her arms around Jonathan’s back. And at times her legs around his waist, only to let them drop to the couch, and then pick them up again. About then is when August, like her father above her, stopped thinking. And dedicated herself 100% to feeling the love of the man that was making love to her. Her father had months ago been past practical consideration with regards to her. Finally August was too.

Except August must have kept a small corner of defiance somewhere. Because when Jonathan tried to kiss her as he made love to her, August turned her face away. First one side, then another, as her lips ran from his. They had kissed before, but it was like August was now saying “fine, you are taking what you are taking, but you can’t have it all!” Till her face stopped running from his and she relented that too. So they kissed right before her father exploded into her.

“Ihm, ihm, ihm!”

Went August again. And the couple stopped.

There was a minute of postcoital peace between them, till Jonathan finally, after all these months, finally experienced a moment of post nut clarity.

“Oh! August! I am sorry!”

“Shut up Jonathan! You did it, you own it.”

“August! Do I…need to…”

Started Jonathan. Only to be interrupted by August.

“Get me something to take? I will take care of it, and do not ask me again.”

“August!”

“I said shut up! I will not console you. Not this time!”

Said August louder this time, with a trace of her Empress-Goddess voice, full of authority and certainty in her judgements. Then the father, pulling back from the daughter, repeated again.

“August. I love you.”

And August repeated also.

“I know. I love you too. But this does not change anything. In fact, it just proves what has to happen.”

And pushing her father fully off this time, August picked up her panties from the floor, and slid them up her legs.

“Jonathan. I have to go now. Goodbye.”

And without further dragging on their already tragically intimate long goodbye, she picked up her bag from the side of the couch, and left her father, in tears and with his pants still down, behind.

*****

On the way home back on highway 85 August was in tears about leaving her father more alone than she had found him that fateful Saturday six months ago. She had never meant to hurt him. She only meant to help him fill the void. She did not even know if he was going to hold it together, but she no longer was in a position to help him if he did not. Because this time, she was the cause. And she did not know how long it would take her to heal from that knowledge. And she cried enough to impair her driving vision and decided she needed to hold it together for the sake of safety.

Then she felt her father’s semen ooze out of her vagina and down her inner thigh and she thought. Shit! I really need to take care of this asap! I will have to stop somewhere, a pharmacy or the student university health center, as soon as I get back and take what I have to take. And while she briefly reached to her bag on the passenger seat for some tissues to dry her thighs off, the bag tipped. And the little velvet jewelry box her father had tried to give her fell out. And August realized her father must have put it there while she was emotionally distracted from their consummated relationship, and physically distracted from putting her panties back on. And she voiced to herself.

“Jonathan. You asshole. I hate you!”

Though she did not really mean that last part one bit.

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

Carrie was no royalist — few people with more than a couple of brain cells to rub together are, as far as she was concerned — but she wasn’t one to pass up the opportunity to show off her baking skills. So it was that she found herself preparing scones for the jubilee party at work.

‘Party’ was a bit of a stretch, admittedly. A fuddle, they called it. People were bringing party food, nibbles and so on, all of which would be consumed during their fifteen minute afternoon break. Carrie was bringing scones. Scones were what really mattered for any kind of afternoon tea as far as she was concerned, and hers were perfect. She had paid careful attention to every stage and every detail and they had turned out exactly as intended. No mishaps, no accidents, and certainly no ruined clothes to strip off.

She was utterly determined that nothing would ruin her scones. Which is why she visited a small artisanal produce store in a leafy suburb outside the city centre the day before the event. The party, that is. Even Insuracar weren’t tight enough to try and make their staff work a bank holiday. She couldn’t care less about the jubilee itself and loudly told anybody who asked.

Anyway, the reason Carrie was in that particular shop on that particular day was that she was browsing for the perfect jam to go with her scones. She couldn’t let Ryan cheap out with a 99 pence jar from the supermarket, even if that meant Insuracar footing the bill instead of her. Some times it’s worth forking out for quality, and the appearance of Carrie’s scones was such a time.

She would need clotted cream, too, naturally, but she had already spotted that in a fridge near the door on her way in, and the jam needed much more of her focus. There were so many to choose from, after all, and it had to be just right. She was almost disappointed in the end, to realise regular old strawberry was the classic accompaniment for a reason. As tempting as pineapple and mango jam sounded, it just wouldn’t seem right on scones.

Grabbing four jars and a two tubs of clotted cream, Carrie paid, thanked the predictably hippy-looking woman behind the counter, and headed for the door. At least, she tried to, but quickly realised she couldn’t carry them all in her hands and that the other woman had disappeared into the back without offering her a carrier bag. Not the end of the world, Carrie told herself, just need to be careful. She formed a small tower on the counter — four jam jars on the bottom, two tubs of clotted cream stacked atop. It was a stretch for her hands to get around the jam jars, but the walk home was too much of a hassle to do twice. Besides, if she could manage three pint pots in a pub, surely she could manage this.

Slowly, carefully, she lifted the tower of condiments off the counter and held them at chest height. This way, she could keep a close eye on them and make sure she wasn’t causing the cream to slide around too much.

Everything was fine and dandy all the way up to her third gingerly taken step, at which point she came face-to-face with the door. Ah. This was a problem. There was no way Carrie could open it herself, and she was too shy to shout out. What could she shout, anyway? Hello, woman, please help? No.

Then her problem solved itself. Kind of.

Another customer barged in, one eye on her phone, jangling the bell above the door. This would have been fine — an escape route free of social awkwardness — except that the newcomer didn’t see Carrie, and Carrie was too overburdened with jam to get out of the way in time.

The result happened in slow motion from Carrie’s point of view. The door slammed into her first, followed by the stranger, who had too much momentum to stop in time and was too distracted by her phone to notice there was a problem before it was too late. The plastic tubs containing clotted cream were crushed between the two bodies, causing their contents to spurt upwards as though shot from a sprinkler. At the same time, the jam jars fell to the floor, shattering instantly, and splattering the feet and calves of both women. Unfortunately for Carrie, she had taken advantage of the pleasant spring weather by wearing open-toed sandals, meaning the brunt of the mess went all over her mostly-bare feet.

Even more unfortunately, the fountain of clotted cream landed on her head, face and chest before her body had finished reacting to the sticky jam now coating her feet. The other woman’s momentum had transferred to the heavy dairy slop and so it was only ever going to go one way. Carrie winced, shuddering slightly as the cream landed. Two tubs meant two thick ropes of cream, running from the top of her head to her chest, with the odd gap here and there. As if that weren’t enough of a pain, her other concession to the weather had been a maroon coloured spaghetti strap top. This meant two things. Firstly, the light and flimsy cotton was no match for the thick, gooey cream, and offered little protection for her chest. Secondly, the cream was düzce escort easily able to ooze inside the garment through the gap between it and her chest. The result of all of this, of course, was that she soon felt the slop in her bra, coolly coating her nipples and a decent section of her sizeable breasts.

Little of this registered with Carrie right away. She was too befuddled by the whole situation to be mindful of the physical sensations. Was she supposed to apologise, berate the woman for not looking where she was going, or simply get out of there? Fight or flight? Britishness took over and she muttered an apology while crouching to try and make an ineffectual and ill-conceived attempt to clean up the jam and broken glass.

‘You should be sorry,’ the woman replied, instantly classifying herself as a bitch in Carrie’s mind.

‘Well you really should have been watching where you were going,’ she replied, hackles up. She wanted first and foremost for this situation to be over, but she wasn’t going to let this woman blame her for a mess of her creation. Tellingly, the other woman had made no effort to help with the mess.

‘I beg your pardon?’ the woman sounded genuinely shocked that somebody would do anything but agree and apologise.

Before she could make this even clearer, the shopkeeper reappeared. ‘Oh, dear. What’s happened here?’

‘She barged into me,’ the two women said in tandem.

‘I see,’ the shopkeeper tutted. ‘Well don’t be silly and go picking up glass with your fingers. Wait there and I’ll get a dustpan and brush.’

The older woman floated away into the back again, leaving Carrie and the rude woman in heatedly awkward silence. Carrie suddenly felt very away of the fact that she was still crouched at the other woman’s feet, and stood up. The process of straightening up gave her a close-up view of the woman and her outfit. She too had made the mistake of wearing sandals, but the bottom of her cut-off jeans were also splattered, where Carrie’s bare legs had taken the brunt of her splattering. There was a pale brown blouse above that, satin, but light and airy. Finally, her face was obscured by a large pair of sunglasses, but Carrie thought there was something recognisable about what she could see. Maybe it was the long blonde hair, maybe it was something else.

‘Katie? Carrie asked.

‘Carrie? Oh my God, no way.’

The mood in the room changed instantly with that recognition. It was one thing for Carrie to think a horrible stranger had caused this mess, but a colleague? Not exactly a friend, but someone she knew relatively well. She didn’t want to cause a scene — any more a scene, anyway — with someone she would have to deal with again tomorrow morning.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Katie said, much to Carrie’s relief. ‘My head was elsewhere.’

‘I should have seen that and stepped back. Don’t worry about it.’

‘But this mess. Oh this was all for the party, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry.’

‘It was. I guess I’ll have to get some more now. It’s fine, honestly. No big deal.’

‘I know how expensive this place is.’ Katie has switched to a whisper, obviously not wanting to be heard complaining.

‘Worth it, though. What are you here for, actually?’

‘Oh, uh, just browsing really.’

Something about Katie’s response and her body language made Carrie extremely suspicious, but it wasn’t as if she was likely to be up to anything she shouldn’t be, was it? Not in a cutesie little shop. If Katie wanted to be secretive, so be it, it was no concern of Carrie’s. ‘Fair enough,’ she said, wishing the shopkeeper would hurry up now that things had gotten a little uncomfortable again.

Luckily, the shopkeeper chose that moment to make her return. Her timing couldn’t have been more pristine if it had been scripted. ‘Here we are,’ she said, stepping through the space between Katie and Carrie.

‘Oh, no, let me get that for you,’ Carrie insisted. She crouched alongside the shopkeeper and held her hands out. Katie stayed where she was, noticeably.

‘I’d offer to help but, uh, I’ve got a bit of a bad back.’

‘Oh. Right,’ Carrie said, looking up at her co-worker again and feeling just the slightest bit squeamish at the difference in stature between them. It wasn’t a particularly convincing reason for not helping, but nor was it one Carrie could really call out. The shopkeeper had left her to the job now, too, and was busy asking Katie what she needed. Carrie suddenly felt very small, and not just because she was crouching. She had been discarded, just like the broken glass and ruined jam she was trying to collect in a dustpan. To make matters worse, the tight confines of the shop meant that Katie had to step over her to get to the counter — a literal manifestation of how she was feeling. What was that phrase they’d taught her in college, prophetic phalanx or something?

In her self-pity, she failed to notice what had been happening with the spillage. edirne escort The way she had been absent mindedly sweeping up the mess meant that she was speckling her calves with more mess. She had been pressing down too hard, and every sweeping motion had released the tension in the brush’s bristles, spraying, the sticky mixture of jam and cream in her direction. She realised this with a shudder, which helped to remind her, regrettably, of the cream inside her top and, most regrettably of all, inside her bra. She would have to remember not to make any sudden movements in future, because it was bad enough having the gooey stuff inside her underwear but moving it around was a whole new level of unpleasantness.

The dustpan was full now, at least, though there was still plenty to tidy up. She stood carefully, stiffly, trying to avoid as much adverse jiggle as possible. Just like Katie, she thought, who was currently waiting for the shopkeeper to grab something from a shelf close to the floor. Since Carrie didn’t know where the nearest bin was, she also had to wait for Katie’s order to be completed. This meant she had time to think about things. It was a funny coincidence, she thought, that Katie was moving stiffly, too. Wouldn’t it be funny if there was nothing wrong with her back and she also had some kind of gunk inside her underwear? Not likely, though. Katie thought ruefully about the amount of clotted cream clinging to her breasts right now and was sure she had pretty much all of it.

No, the only way Katie could be suffering a similar problem was if she had deliberately put herself in that position and that was ridiculous. Right?

It dawned on Carrie that it wasn’t a million years since she had gotten accidentally messy and how that had ended up. The idea that people would do such a thing on purpose would have been laughable before that, but now? It wasn’t completely unreasonable, was it? She found herself watching Katie very closely, then, feeling less and less sure about her earlier assertion that it was a funny coincidence. Exactly what she was looking for was unclear. After all, if Katie had injured her back it made sense that she would be moving awkwardly.

‘How are we getting on with that mess?’ The shopkeeper asked, interrupting Carrie’s thoughts.

‘Oh, uh, alright. Where’s the bin actually?’ Carrie replied, showing her the full dustpan.

‘Just in the back. Here, let me get that.’ The shopkeeper extended her arms and carefully took the dustpan from Carrie.

Katie at least had the decency to mouth another apology, motioning to her own back with one arm and putting on a theatrical wince. Oddly, it made Carrie feel less and less convinced by the excuse, but she still wasn’t comfortable with calling her out on it. The cost-reward equation just didn’t add up. If she contested Katie’s claim and was right, what would happen? Katie would be a little embarrassed and would probably never talk to her again. If she was wrong, Carrie would look like a complete bitch.

Still, she couldn’t get over the idea that Katie was fibbing. She needed proof.

When the shopkeeper returned with the empty dustpan and returned to serving Katie, Carrie decided she couldn’t let the issue go. Ignoring the slimy, sticky discomfort it caused her as best she could, she swept up more hurriedly this time. She cringed non-stop, despite her best efforts, but she got the job done before Katie could finish her order.

‘Sorry, there you go,’ Carrie said, squeezing carefully past Katie to hand the refilled dustpan over once more.

Katie moved out of the way, but that didn’t mean much in and of itself. After all, Carrie was still splattered with sticky mess. She would try to avoid her, too, if she had been in Katie’s shoes. ‘Can I get the same again, please, and this time I’ll try not to dump it all over your floor.’

‘Sure,’ the woman said. ‘Let me just finish up with your friend here. Thirteen-fifty, please. Thank-you.’

Affecting an air of curiosity, Carrie enquired about Katie’s purchases. ‘Stuff for the party?’

‘Oh, uh, yeah.’ Katie seemed unsure again, as if she couldn’t remember what she had purchased just seconds before. Or, more likely, Carrie thought, like she hadn’t had chance to come up with a believable lie. But why lie at all?

‘What are you bringing?’ Carrie asked, unwilling to let it drop now.

‘Just party food, you know? Nibbles, crisps, bites, that kind of thing.’

‘Interesting that you’d come here for something like that.’

‘Well, might as well get the good stuff, right?’

‘Right.’ Carrie tried to peer into Katie’s bag as surreptitiously as possible. Unfortunately, trying to be subtle meant she couldn’t see anything.

‘Oh, hang on.’ A third voice chimed in. It was the shopkeeper. ‘You forgot your jam. I don’t know if I’ve ever sold so many jars in one afternoon. Jubilee is certainly doing me some good, no matter what people say.’

Guilt elazığ escort flashed across Katie’s face. It went as quickly as it came, but Carrie didn’t miss it. She had been watching Katie carefully this whole time, and she recognised an “uh-oh” when she saw one.

‘More jam, hmm?’ she asked innocently.

‘Well, obviously not everything is for the work party,’ Katie answered with impressive smoothness. ‘Anyway, I really should get going. Sorry about the mess, really. Keep a receipt and I’ll pay for what I broke.’

‘Sure, sure. Fine. Don’t worry about it, honestly. See you tomorrow.’

‘See you.’ Katie turned and left, far more careful than when she had entered.

Carrie turned to watch, eyes following her down the street as far as she could. Luckily, Katie had driven here and had parked close by. At least, she unlocked a nearby car and deposited her bag into its passenger seat. Presumably that meant it was hers.

‘Anything else I can get you?’ the shopkeeper asked.

Carrie had to swallow her frustration at having her thoughts interrupted again. ‘No. No, that’s fine, thanks. Just, uh, hold old it for two mins will you? I need to… be right back.’

Before the other woman could reply, Carrie was out the door and into the stiflingly warm street. She made for Katie’s car in a half-run, half-walk, trying to get there quickly without looking like she was trying to get there quickly.

She needn’t have rushed, though.

Bending at the waist, she peered in through the passenger door and saw Katie in the middle of dumping a jar of jam into her jeans. Carrie gasped and was immediately grateful for the glass between her and Katie meaning it went unheard. She did feel guilty for peering in, yet she couldn’t look away. She simply couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Someone was getting messy on purpose, and it was someone she knew.

She continued to watch as Katie re-buttoned her jeans, shifting in her seat with none of the rigidity she would have expected. Indeed, Katie seemed to be relishing the sticky feeling, wriggling in her seat. As far as Carrie could tell, Katie was deliberately shifting the jam around, squelching it between her thighs and under her buttocks. After a moment of this, Katie put a hand to her crotch and then continued, presumably using her hand to smear the stickiness around her knickers.

And then she looked up and saw Carrie watching.

Both women almost had a heart attack. Carrie’s first instinct was to play it cool and act as though she’d seen nothing. Maybe she could pass it off as needing to speak again.

The look in Katie’s eyes made that seem unlikely to pass muster. There was a mixture of guilt, frustration and lust there. It was an unusual combination, but unmistakable too.

‘Get in,’ Katie mouthed. Even with the window closed, Carrie got the message clearly. Less clear was why she obeyed it.

Carrie opened the door, clambered inside and sat down in a series of quick movements. She closed the door and sat in heavy, awkward silence for a moment.

‘How much did you see?’ Katie asked at last.

‘Oh, nothing, I, uh –‘

‘No, really. It’s a bit late for that.’

‘I saw you dumping jam in, uh, in there,’ Carrie nodded in the direction of Katie’s midriff. ‘And then I saw you wriggling, I guess.’

Katie laughed. Carrie joined in. The tension broke instantly, and Carrie felt a sense of relief. It was as though she’d been keeping a dirty secret, only to find out the person she’d been keeping it from knew all along.

‘Well, I might as well fill you in now, I guess. On one condition.’

‘What is it?’ Carrie asked warily, half-expecting Katie to suggest some kind of jam-splattered version of a blood pact. To her surprise, the prospect didn’t totally appal her.

‘I’ll tell you everything, Literally everything about what I was doing, as much as you want to know. But you can’t tell anyone else. Deal?’

If Carrie had been asked a few moments ago, she would have been unsure if she even wanted to know at all. Now, though, she was enthralled and possibly a little excited. ‘Deal,’ she said plainly, underlining it with a nod.

Katie breathed out through puckered lips, blowing out her cheeks. ‘Alright. Well, I said I’ll tell you everything, but I’m not sure where to start.’

Carrie felt as if she should say something, but what? ‘No rush.’

‘Well, it was exactly what it looked like. I dumped the jam in my knickers, then I wriggled around. That’s not all, though.’

‘I guessed that much.’

‘No, I mean, that’s not all that’s in there.’

‘Oh,’ Carrie said, extending the vowel sound as realisation dawned. ‘So your back.’

Katie laughed. ‘Right. Yeah, it’s fine, thanks for asking. This, the jam, was part two of an intricate dare. Part one was to fill the back of my knickers with custard and then complete the rest.’

Carrie found her eyes drifting towards the seat of Katie’s chair, as if she could see the custard with X-Ray vision. ‘So you’re coated in stuff down there.’

‘Yep,’ Katie answered, torn between an indulgent smirk and a nervous grin. Carrie couldn’t blame her. She had felt similarly not long ago.

‘So you coated your bum in custard, came to the shop, filled the front with jam,’ Carrie said. ‘That gives me at least as many questions as answers.’

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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

—

The donkey grunted, pressing on in the courthouse, though everything there had taken on a strange edge, an ethereal quality to it. She shifted her weight back and forth, the judge staring her down. Yet…somehow…she was without a single stitch of clothing on her — everything exposed! And yet…there were more anuses on her than ever!

“Miss Moor…”

No, no, no, no, no — it could not be! Mandy squeaked and tried to shrink back from the judge, though it didn’t seem to do her any good, paws fumbling, trying to cover the anuses on her body. Yet wherever she grasped another appeared, squelching out a steaming load of poop, thick and smelly, the reek permeating the whole courtroom. It was a familiar place to her, one that she had dreamed about many times since taking on her punishment, but they were shaking their head at her, even as her multiple, many anuses leaked into the padding covering them.

“…Has not completed the terms of her sentence to our satisfaction,” the judge said, delivering his ruling. “And will be sentenced to a further year of anus and excrement punishment. The court is adjourned.”

She screamed and ran for him, begging him not to leave her like that, but the judge faded away, as he always did. It was only when the floor beneath her opened up, the pads over the anuses falling away, revealing more than she had ever thought she’d had, squelching and oozing thick, gross excrement, sticking to her fur, that she realised it was a dream.

If only her reality, when she woke, was not so close to it.

The donkey stuttered upright and struggled right out of bed, glancing back at it in panic, her heart still pounding. If she didn’t get up early, shoving the dream from her mind, the alarm not yet having gone off either, she would flood the pads covering the punishment anuses on her body, squelching out thick waste yet again. It was a situation that had happened repeatedly during her punishment, so often that Mandy was left with a constant panic about it happening again.

Mandy groaned, skittering straight into the bathroom, though that was not entirely unusual for the donkey. She was always grunting, always groaning, always trying to control…them. Not that she had ever been meant to control them, not really, the dirty mess of her body always reeking, always stinking, never under her control, despite everything.

It…well… It had been her fault. But she’d only stolen, it had not been that bad. There were other things in the world, most certainly, that were worse than stealing, but the judges had been experimenting with different punishments lately, instead of just locking up furs for infractions and more minor crimes. After all, the intent was not to offend again for a repeated time…

Mandy panted lightly, trying not to breathe in through her nostrils as she peeled the pad from her underarm, revealing the first of many stinking anuses that littered her body. Her body, as it was, was not the same as it had been. To punish her for the crime of stealing from the wrong fur, someone with too much standing in the richer parts of the community, they had assigned her one year of being cursed with multiple anuses.

That could have been bad enough, with the lick of magic keeping them all in place, under both armpits, down on her hips, between her thighs, another one next to her regular anus… They were everywhere. It could have been bad enough, but the issue was that they were constantly streaming, excreting, massive, thick dumps of waste overfilling the pads that she bandaged onto her body to make sure that the excrement did not leak.

Mandy laughed bitterly, shaking her head. Yeah, like hell that happened. There was even an anus tucked between her crotch-boobs: a pair of breasts that had formed where the udder on a donkey would have been. It was a quirk of her biology and evolution, though it was harder to clean the reeking mess out from between those boobs. Maybe because she just liked them being clean.

“Ugh…”

She groaned, glad, at least, that her punishment was coming to an end. It had been such a very long year and she didn’t know how she was going to get through it, the anuses on her body all coming from a magical source, connecting others to her. Mandy didn’t honestly know if those that were connected to her, through the punishment, were aware of the thick, squelching contributions to her predicament. She didn’t care either, the magic surely coming to an end.

But, muğla escort she still had to get out. Soaking through the pads during the night was bad enough, but she thought that she might have an hour or so at work, editing at the newspaper, though she was not “the editor”, not yet, before she had to change the pads again. She’d gotten used to using the special wipes on her rougher coat, wiping away the excrement, though the pad around her buttocks, just a diaper, was thick and heavy with a heaving, squelchy load of waste already. That was one of the worst of it, stinking and reeking, even though it was, in a way, the easiest to keep contained. At least she could buy diapers anywhere…

The rest of her body had to have thick pads, to absorb and hold the mess, in place, but they were always shifting, allowing thicker, squashed logs of waste to ooze free, though most of it was softer, easier to soak in. Yet she could never tell just what was going to come at any point, for too many of the bowel movements that the anuses had were of the “sudden death” variety.

She’d come up with that word herself. After, well…an incident.

She tried to clean up, to be efficient, though there was no time for a good shower, not that time. It didn’t matter anyway, considering that she always had to be cleaning up, constantly, and would need to do so in the bathroom at work too. There was no shower there, so it would be her heavy-duty wipes all over again, her backpack packed already to the brim with thick pads and bandages, the sticky “stick to itself” kind that would be easy to put in place. After a year, she had found ways to manage it, though the sagging mud pads would be gross again in no time.

Winter had crept into the city and she cursed under her breath as she bundled up, hating the layers. It made her feel sweltering, closed in, as if the faeces were sticking into her fur coat, becoming a part of her. Yeah, maybe that was a weird way to think about it, frankly, but it just felt like all the grossness of the mess was sinking into her, even though she didn’t want to imagine it.

Soon, however, it would be over. Even as she bundled up in her thick winter coat and multiple layers to head out through the slushy snow to the office. Mandy chose to walk, in her hoof boots, to the office those days, considering that it would be much easier in that way to hide what was happening to her. She found that the open air helped, at least in a small way, to dissipate the smell too.

At least, that was what the donkey hoped. She had gotten used to part of it, over the year of her being cursed and punished. Others around her, not exposed to the reek as much as she had, had not. Mandy, however, could usually tell when the bowel release would come, spilling their messy loads into the pads, but the events could still be unpredictable. That was why it had been so difficult to work, but they had had to make an exception for her, on the grounds of accessibility, though it was a punishment. The court had said that they had to.

That didn’t mean that people didn’t tease her, however, even if Mandy was not so sure that she deserved the attention she was getting. It had not been all that much that she had stolen and, frankly, she would still have stolen if she had been in need. Her job didn’t pay all that much, not in the journalism business, but she’d had to pick up extra, dirtier work on the side — work that was more in line with her new body.

“I can’t wait to be out of this… Ugh…”

Mandy muttered to herself as she ducked into her office building, though the layers didn’t seem to need to come off in there. Confused, Mandy flicked her ears back and forth, nostrils quivering. They were on the sixth floor there, but there was something wrong even as she went up the stairs, not trusting herself on the elevator, not after that monstrous wave of excrement had made it reek for two weeks. Some still joked that they could smell her in there, despite everything that Mandy had paid for, even out of her own pocket, to clean up after that accident. No one thought that she didn’t have to — they just blamed her for the bodily accident, the deathly wave of what was practically diarrhoea seeping through the pads between her crotch breasts that time.

Not even the diaper had been able to contain that accident and she grunted as she edged into her office, darting out of the stairway as if expecting something to happen. She was just so on edge, always on edge.

“Hey… Steve…”

She dared ask a co-worker what was going on, though she felt like she needed to pull the fluffy hood of her jacket up even higher. The marmot glanced up at her, smirking a little.

“Hey stinky-poo,” he said, greeting her with one of the most unimaginative nicknames that had been given to her. “What’s up? Messed up your diaper again?”

She flinched, but quailed, resenting his treatment of her. It didn’t matter if she tried reporting him to HR: they weren’t going to do a damn ordu escort thing. Her workplace was not permitted to fire her because of her stinky punishment, even if she had more accidents at work than she even had had before, but they could make things difficult for her. and that involved turning a blind eye to the co-workers that made fun of her, mocking her. Everyone knew what her punishment had been and, well, that first time that she had lost control of her timetable and mixed things up at her desk, soaking a muddy, thick pad with faecal matter right on her side had turned absolutely everyone against her. They’d all run screaming, holding anything that they could over their noses, eyes watering at the stench.

She grumbled. They had not known that it was her that had had to deal with the slick, squelchy feel of the waste soaking into the bad, sometimes too thick to ooze into it, squashing back into her fur. Would she ever truly feel clean again? There were even stains in the carpet around her desk — stains that she was sure she had not made, but everyone blamed her for the brown smears all the same in the old carpet.

“Why is it so cold in here?” Mandy asked, shoving all other thoughts from her mind. “It’s really weird.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you noticed things like that anymore,” he said with a laugh, shuffling some papers. “Heaters are off, you’ll just have to deal with it. We don’t want to see you shitting yourself in public again anyway, so it’s really for the best.”

That stung, but the donkey did her best to hold her anger inside, taking several long, deep breaths, her ears quivering. Her bowels churned, alerting her to the fact that she needed to go to the bathroom to relieve herself and she thought she would be able to stay there until a couple of others had finished pooping too.

Leaving a coffee at her desk, steaming nicely, she headed to the bathroom, making quick work of everything. If she was careful, she could catch the mess in the thick pads and toss it away swiftly, but it was not always that easy. Like that day, when the slop of waste coming from between her crotch boobs wouldn’t push out as she wanted it to, setting her chest heaving, smearing it accidentally into the bare skin and her fur as she tried to clean herself up.

“Oh, shit…”

Mandy’s ears drooped, already fighting the thick winter clothing, her ass, literally, frozen. It seemed even harder to get the gloopy waste out of her fur, though a small part of her argued back and said that she wouldn’t feel clean until she was in the shower anyway — so why bother?

Taking care of those three excretions, all on schedule, she headed back slowly to her desk and sat down with fresh pads in place and a diaper, hating the crinkle of it around her buttocks and between her legs. It helped with other things too, for she had always had very over productive genitals too — always “leaky”. But that was something that Mandy had to deal with even more those days when her body was leaking from so many other holes, all over her body.

She was just glad there weren’t any on her face or neck, though the one in her armpit, squelching and stopping her from putting her arm all the way down against her side, was perhaps one of the ones that she hated the most.

All she had to do was get through the day, she thought to herself, staring at the clock, fingers moving on the keyboard before the computer, as if doing everything on autopilot. If I can get through the day, I can manage this, I can have the punishment lifted, I won’t have to live like this any longer.

The coffee helped too, one of the many things that helped keep the gross excretions on a schedule. She had a very strict diet, but she thought that she could influence the anuses, if only slightly, by looking after herself too. Maybe it was a false hope, but it was one of the things that made Mandy feel ever so slightly back in control, during those twelve long, long months.

The chair squeaked under her as she shifted her weight. The work got done, a little, little by little, but there seemed to be even more in her inbox than ever. Mandy frowned and tried to focus, drinking her coffee, already wondering what she was going to pick up from lunch. She had a “safe foods” list that she wasn’t even all that sure if they were safe foods or not, but she felt like it was good to be healthy anyway. A lot had come into focus after being cursed with the multiple anuses, not all of it bad.

Yet she should have kept a closer eye on her coffee that day, for it had been left unattended at her desk for the first time in weeks. And her co-workers were not about to let such an opportunity slip by, easing something into the cup when she’d been in the bathroom, though it had been stirred in so Mandy had not noticed.

For what she drank did influence the anuses, truly. All in the worst of ways.

Unlike her own bowel movements, her natural ones, there was no warning when the floodgates opened. Only a trembling osmaniye escort in her body, a sense that something was wrong, though she didn’t even get to stand up from her desk before the muddy wash of waste hit her. Mandy gasped, ears standing up straight, horror swarming her, a sick chill of prickling heat bringing a rise of nausea to the back of her throat. She could taste bile, but all she could concentrate on was the anuses pushing, puckering, streaming with a rancid, sweltering dose of waste as if every one of them at once.

“Noooo…”

Not even Mandy could stop a low, rising moan from breaking her lips, drawing attention, even though the laughs were already starting. The waste soaked through the pads, so quickly that she was not even sure what kind it was (there were many, all of which she had catalogued in her head during the year), streaming down her side from the anus under her armpit, even losing control from the anus between her crotch breasts. They wobbled into the mess, though the squishy excrement filled the pad quickly, trickling down her legs, even into the boots that she had not bothered to take off from her walk in.

Laughter surrounded her, her co-workers already prepared with masks that covered their noses and mouths, ensuring that they would not be affected by the reek. With tears in her eyes, she streaked to the bathroom, still leaving a splatter of waste behind her, though, that time, it had not been her fault.

Tears in the bathroom. Oh, they were commonplace, though, that time, she barricaded the door to make sure that no one else could get in there to taunt her, for she would have much rather have been stuck in the bathroom all day alone (if they blocked the door too) than face more taunting. They were cruel, so cruel, but it was her that had to pull herself back up again and face the day, to clean herself up again, even if they were fully aware of the mess they had caused, the trouble she had caused her.

“I hate it here…”

She sniffled, though those four words did not fully encompass the wrenching in her chest. The poop had even soaked into her clothes and the stink of it clung to her, frustration twisting and curling like a pit of snakes in her stomach.

There was only one place that she could go for relief and that was the sex club in the redlight district. She signed out of work early without giving it much thought, stomping down the street, only wanting to get all the clothes off. It was a job, easily enough, that she had taken to make the bills meet, but it had ended up one of the only avenues of true relief that she could get. Getting off at home didn’t make sense anymore, was lacking something for her, so she went there, posed for clients and masturbated, though she had not allowed anyone to fuck them yet.

Not yet. And she wouldn’t. Not with the punishment being lifted. She would have to tell them that it was her last day, she thought, nodding at the desk and heading to her usual room, stripping off and lying on the bed. A red light glowed on her fur, though it was warm enough in there for the clawing grab of excrement, the stink, to prick at her nose, making her turn away from it in disgust. Those that watched her, however, would like it, which was the thing that got her bills paid.

Her clothes were left in the adjacent changing room, though, if she was fortunate, she would be able to have them dry-cleaned before she left. Reaching for the in-room phone, she smiled at the thought of clean, warm clothes layering her body, soon to have only one anus on it!

“Hey there, slutty-poo.”

Mandy froze, gulping hard. The skunk, Aroma. Of course, that was most likely not her name and just one that was chosen for working at that particular fetish club, one for more extreme kinks. The skunk entered the room casually, her long, black hair spilling down her back from a high ponytail, though her lace underwear did not hide her dick or her oversized scent glands. Those scent glands were her money maker.

But Aroma had multiple breasts too, six in total, lining her chest and abdomen. For her too, they were always leaking, plump with milk, though she strutted about proudly, her dick even half hard within the skimpy underwear that was truly meant to contain them. Her grin set something quivering within the donkey, though Mandy tried not to appear affected.

“Hey, Aroma,” Mandy said. “Don’t call me that anymore… You know I’m not going to be here for much longer.”

“Oh, no, dear… You need the money.”

Aroma wasn’t a friend, but she was the closest thing to a friend that Mandy had had since coming there. No one had wanted to touch her beyond as a fetish, but she’d been so desperate for some real contact that, on more than one occasion, she had let Aroma have sex with her. It had felt good, dirty but good, and the skunk had not even minded when she’d missed her schedule and let loose a thick wave of excrement halfway through, pounding the donkey’s pussy full regardless.

“Oh, no…”

Mandy shook her head, but Aroma was there, nuzzling up to her, kissing her neck, tracing her lips down under her armpit where one of the anuses lay, though the one under the armpit on the other side was just as alluring, at least to the skunk. It was clean at that time, but Aroma knew just how to tease her friend, despite her dirty horror at everything.

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1.

Storms never come once at a time. Just when the local paper I was working for was close to bankrupt, Elena finally decided to take some time away from me. I wasn’t surprised. The last year was a struggle for our marriage. Maybe it was the lack of kids or our time-consuming careers but everything had been slowly falling apart. We barely met at home with her and when we did, we fought badly.

When she moved out of the apartment, I quickly drifted into my old hobbies. One of them was my sweater fetish. I found myself recharged when I looked around the old forums, some of which were still on. I even bought several sweaters online. Elena wasn’t very fond of my bizarre sexuality and she rarely dressed anything wooly in my presence. Still, she was, and probably would be, the only girl who accepted my fetish.

In the meantime, my professional life was about to come to a crossroad. I was a good journalist and a writer. The local paper’s editors gave me a chance to write short stories, posted just before its last page. But when things went bad and the internet took over, I had to do some other stuff — like editing myself, helping with the sports covering and negotiating with the distributers.

My boss — Marko, was a nice guy and an excellent journalist. He saw the tension in the office when some of the minor employees had to be released in order for the paper to survive. He tried to calm us all down but there were some fiery scandals along the last couple of months. So he came up with the idea of a team building – away from the city, up the mountain.

That’s how I found myself unpacking in a small hotel room. I thought about playing around in some of the sweaters I brought, but decided that this could wait until I spend some time with my colleagues. bursa escort After all, it is what I came here for.

It was late afternoon when I sat alongside a big table downstairs. We had reserved every room in the hotel so the place was ours. Even the staff was away leaving us until tomorrow morning.

Marko showed me how to make a coffee in the kitchen and I was just sipping when Natalia and Stefan started arguing about politics. It was annoying but Marko, Teresa, Tina and Nick ignored them. So I did the same. We had to leave some of the team behind to prepare the Monday edition, but we here were the core of the newspaper.

I couldn’t help but notice that the cold weather made some of my female coworkers to dress woolly outfits. Natalia was still with her white snood on, Tina wore a nice thick hat in the bus but, without a doubt, the most stunning wool item was Teresa’s fuzzy green sweater. It was oversized and cozy looking thing with a very big cowl neck collar that at first I thought was a snood. Teresa often wore big sweaters at work, probably trying to hide some of the flesh underneath. She was quite chubby… Okay, maybe even fat, but it just made the picture even more interesting if you’re into chunky sweaters.

I was barely keeping up a conversation with Marko and Nick about rock bands and enjoying the view of those heavy melons of Teresa moving around the thick knitted wool. The big cowlneck was spread all over her shoulders and still reaching the table before her. It was nice watching her move it away to find her cup of tea.

Natalia went over the line with her arguments and she stormed away up in her room. This wasn’t a nice start of the weekend and I noticed how disappointed çanakkale escort Marko was. So I offered a walk until it was time for dinner. Everyone agreed and in five minutes we were outside.

It was snowing lightly. I couldn’t help but stare at the snowflakes falling onto Tina’s hat and Teresa’s cowlneck, left outside her leather jacket. We wandered around the village that had turned throughout the years into a ski resort. It wasn’t very crowded but that’s why Marko chose it — because it’s cheaper.

The girls didn’t do a lot of shopping but they wondered what the view up the hill was. So we planned that tomorrow we would use the lift and go check what it’s like. Me and Nick bought some books while Marko took two different papers in order to compare them to ours.

On the way back, Teresa lifted her cowl over her head because it was getting colder. I was walking behind her, mesmerized by the fuzziness before me. Suddenly I realized I wanted to touch it badly. So I went next to her and reached for some imaginary “twig” that I explained was caught in the knit. Teresa looked at me surprised but thanked. I kind of brushed my fingers through the collar’s knit which was odd to her but she didn’t mention anything.

We came back to the small hotel and started preparing dinner. The girls were trying to show each other what a great cook each of them were while the three men, including me, were in charge of the drinks, the fire and the music.

While the oven was working its ass off to indulge the girls’ creativity, I went up to my room for a bath and a quick change. I wondered if I should play around with some sweater but I didn’t have much time. So I left with a tingling sensation rize escort in my belly, hoping that some of the girls would dress something fuzzy in order to feed my fantasies through the night. But then, in the middle of the hallway, my phone rang. It was Elena. She was asking me to come at the apartment and pick some clothes for the winter. My heart raced as I told her I was away and that I had given a piece or two of her belongings to charity. It was a lie, covering the fact I had taken two of her sweaters with my luggage. Of course, the shouting began. Elena told me that she would throw all of my clothes from the apartment. She sounded sincere. I felt bad for her sweaters but I didn’t like the way she was always shouting at me though this last year. So I hung up the phone, thinking that most of my monthly salary would now be spend for clothes.

The door next to mine opened and Teresa went out in the hallway. Her face showed that she unwillingly overheard my conversation on the phone but acted as if she didn’t. I tried to smile but it didn’t work. Teresa did the same and then went on for the stairs.

I found myself unable to move. But not because a coworker of mine had just overheard about my marriage problems. It was because Teresa had changed into something even more stunning than her green cowl neck sweater. For dinner she chose a beige chunky off-shoulder sweater, way above her size to fit the chubbiness. But it was obvious that the design wasn’t planned for such extreme weight, thus making the off-shoulder collar far too open for her fleshy chest. Trying to not be so obscenely looking, Teresa had only her left shoulder out and had pulled the whole sweater in a way that the opening would show mostly her back. The knit was very soft and it looked like it would fall apart any moment. On top of that, two black stripes were hooked on her shoulders telling me that she wore only her bra underneath. Her outfit got complete with tight black leather pants which seemed to hide some of her extra weight to the observer.

I took a moment to catch my breath and joined everyone downstairs.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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This is the story of Jacob and Emily Jones from Expanding Horizons Ch. 06.

As Emily and Jacob left Rosebud Acres, they had a renewed sense of confidence in their lives together. On the ride to the airport, they didn’t talk for fear of their Uber driver lowering their rating. When they reached DTW, Emily’s heart rate rose. Would TSA flag her toy? How would she explain it? What would they do? She held her breath to lower her pulse as she pulled out the laptop and bag of beauty products but it was to no avail, her heart rate was still elevated. As she passed through the x-ray machine, she saw that her purse had been pulled to the side and would require an inspection.

Jacob had already repacked his bag and was waiting on Emily when he saw her purse had been pulled of the conveyor, “What did you forget?”

Emily knew what it was but faked a sense of bewilderment. As a butchy looking supervisor grabbed her purse and asked Emily, “Does this belong to you?” Emily shook her head yes and the agent responded, “Come with me.” Jacob started walking with her and the agent pointedly said, “Sir, I asked for her to come with me, you go and wait over there.” Before the agent began opening the purse she started with her speech, “Are there any syringes or anything else that might harm me in here?” Before Emily could answer the agent had opened the bag and saw the pink toy, front and center, and react with a surprised, “OHHH!” The agent looked Emily up and down and glanced towards Jacob, who hadn’t heard a thing since he was enthralled with his phone. The agent tried to fight off her grin but couldn’t and said “I hope you have an….. ENJOYABLE FLIGHT!”, and handed Emily her bag. Emily turned three shades of red and slinked away.

As she reached Jacob he asked, “What was it?”

Clearing her throat Emily said “Lotion.”

Jacob and Emily first stopped at Chang’s to eat but sat in silence since the table to either side was full. They then bypassed the tram and instead slowly strolled to their gate and did some window shopping. When they reached their gate, A24 they took a seat against the wall to have some privacy.

Emily, “So…..Should I book another weekend next quarter?”

In an excited tone and at a hurried pace that Emily hadn’t heard Jacob speak in years, “Yes, we need to do this again. Don’t you think next quarter is too far out? What do you think of birth control? Should you get back on it or should I use condoms?”

“Slow down. We should probably not wear out our welcome. Plus, we can have fun on our own. I think that I should just get back on birth control. Let’s have fun while we can and you can fire away at will. Plus, I don’t like the smell of condoms. Though we will need to watch out until I’m back on it.”

“Sorry, you are right, I need to relax.” Jacob took a cleansing breath and followed up with, “But we need to go back next time you are up here.” After a short pause Jacob asked “What sort of fun can we do together?”

Trying to be coy, Emily said, “You know, stuff. Like you can watch me finger my pussy.” Emily slowly rubbed her middle finger in a circular motion on one spot of Jacob’s hand. “Maybe you’ll be allowed to stroke your throbbing cock.” Emily then gently grazed Jacob’s crotch with her hand and caused his abs to tighten and his cock went from a semi-chub to rock hard instantly. “Maybe do some outdoor sex. Some role-play. You know…. stuff.”

“Goddamn, we are going to be boarding soon and I think that we need to use the rest room but you got me hard. I’ll walk around and try to get this thing to relax so I don’t piss straight into the air.”

“Before you go, can I have your phone?”

“Why, is there something wrong with yours?”

“My battery is dead and I want to line up an appointment with my doctor for birth control.” Jacob handed over his phone and walked away. Emily hurriedly went onto the Lush site and downloaded the control software. She felt like she was in a spy movie as she held her breath waiting for the download to complete. She made sure the two devices would synch, and reorganized his main screen to make the control front and center. The task was completed just in time as she saw Jacob rounding the corner from the bathroom. As she handed the phone back to him with a shaking hand knowing the plan was in play, she started to daydream about being a spy. She needed a secret agent name. Then it hit her, Agent Cooter. No, it was too much on the chin. Agent Coot was better.

Jacob broke the silence, “Don’t you have to use the bathroom before we board.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” No sooner did Emily say that, the gate agent announced that they would begin boarding those people that needed extra time. A couple minutes later the gate agent announced that it was time to start boarding First Class.

As they got up, Jacob went to grab his phone from his pocket to bring up the ticket but Emily was ready. “You can keep your phone in your pocket, I have both tickets on my phone.”

“Oh, thanks.” And he gave her a peck on the check. Jacob, still lacking full blood flowing to his brain, had already forgotten about the previous dead battery statement.

They took their seats in Row 2, seats C and D with Emily in the window seat. The stewardess came up and asked if they would like anything to drink and Emily asked bilecik escort for wine. An attempt to calm her rising nerves. Thirty minutes later and the boarding door closed. Thirty minutes later, they were at cruising altitude and the captain was finally able to turn off the ‘Fasten Seatbelt’ sign due the early turbulence. Emily knew that this was now game time. She stood up and Jacob asked “Why didn’t you go at the airport?”

Emily put on her best game face, “Because I didn’t have to go then.” She then strutted to the bathroom with her hips waving from side to side with the secret weapon in her purse, charged and ready to go.

As she closed the door behind herself and heard it latch, she fell onto the toilet unsure if she could continue with the plan. How was Hazel so able to do this in public, walking around the antique show? She couldn’t do it and she was only on a plane. As Emily tried to psyche herself up, she decided that her vagina would decide the path forward. If it was willing to play along then she would do it but if not, then this adventure would wait for another day. Deep down she knew that she wanted to do this as her vagina had been drooling on her panties for so long that they were wetter than an August day in Atlanta, but she needed to verify. As her hand slowly crept down and under her skirt, she had proof she needed. As her soft fingers pressed against the fabric of her panties and put pressure on her swollen lips, a jolt of energy ripped up her spine and removed all doubt from her brain. Agent Coot had taken over.

Coot could remember the instructions that Macey, the Weapons group director, gave during mission run up. The pink device would absorb the electro shocks that the lab assumed was part of the crime family’s standard torture. The lab assumed this since the dozen agents that had been sent in over the years to take the family down were all found on the street a drooling mess with small red marks on their wrists and with wiped memories. While Agent Coot didn’t have complete faith in the device or the plan to be taken captive, she was desperate to take the family down. As she was the agent in charge and the last one capable, she knew it was the last option. She stared at herself in the mirror and slowly inserted the device. As her lips parted, the device was greedily sucked in with only the antenna sticking out. Her fingers also slipped in some to verify it was fully embedded and protecting her.

As she extracted her fingers from her drooling pouch, she brought them up to her face and examined the fluid that was on the tips. It was much thicker than she was used to. Her inner voice told her that this was the antidote to the truth serum that was certainly in that odd tasting wine that she was given and she sucked each finger clean to make sure that she was of in control of all her facilities. She stood up straight and knew that she would make the criminal mastermind, Mr. Bigg, putty in her hand since through all his hubris, he hadn’t fully checked her out when she was taken captive. She would finally be able to figure out his plan and gain the upper hand. Until then, she had to play helpless. She fixed her make up and walked back to her seat.

As she reached the seat next to Mr. Bigg, he snarled at her “All better now?”

Agent Coot retorted “Do your best, you aren’t going to break me though.” Jacob had a puzzled look on his face as to what the hell she was talking about.

As Coot settled into her seat and she just waited for everything to happen. It didn’t take Mr. Bigg too long to finish the magazine that he was looking at and grabbed his phone. He keyed in his secret code and said, “What the hell is this?” pointing towards an icon labeled as ‘Electro Shock.’ The stoic Agent didn’t respond and instead readied herself for the mission and was positive the device she had hidden away would protect her.

As Mr. Bigg started fiddling with the app, Coot held her breath in anticipation. She wasn’t sure if the device would totally shield her or if it would only reduce the shocks to a slight tickle. What she hadn’t planned for was the toy started vibrating. It was a steady buzz. The device wasn’t supposed to do this and was clearly failing but at least she didn’t feel any pain from the electricity that was coursing through her. Instead, she felt pleasure, the likes of which she had never felt. She could feel her eyes start rolling into the back of her head and started drifting into pure bliss. After what felt like an eternity floating on a cloud, Agent Coot was brought back to reality as the machine shut off and Mr. Bigg placed his cold hand on her pelvis.

“What Is that?”

“You know exactly what it is. But how did you….” She was cut off as the machine went into a step function. Increasing in intensity in four long steps. Until it dropped off to nothing. This rest gave her a chance to breath and collect her thoughts. But just as she was coming back the first step hit her, then the second, then the third slammed into her. Then the rest, which seemed shorter this time. Over and over, she kept climbing the stairs. The rests seeming to shorten and the climbs seemed longer and harder. The Agent wanted the torture to stop but just couldn’t give up.

Coot was riding manisa escort the edge of consciousness and darkness when the machine shut off. Not sure what had happened when Mr. Bigg got up and started digging in bags. She wasn’t sure what he was doing but this respite gave her time to think. She didn’t think that she had given up any secrets yet but wasn’t positive. How did she get into this….. Macey. Macey is the mole. It finally dawned on Agent Coot that her and Macey have been the only constants in the group for the years that they have been trying to take the family down. When she gets out of this, Macey is going down.

As Emily was in her stupor, Jacob was furiously digging through their bags trying to find a cord to charge his phone. The phone had shut off since the battery died. Just as he placed his hand on the cord a flight attendant walked up. “Is everything all right sir?”

“Yup, just looking for this cord.”

The attendant could see the frustration in Jacob’s actions and wanted to make sure that Emily was fine. She bent over and asked Emily, “Is everything fine ma’am?”

A glassy eyed Emily could only shake her head yes.

The attendant was about to go and get assistance when she saw a light sheen of sweat on Emily’s forehead and cheeks and chest were glowing red. She then saw the telltale sign of the Lush antenna in her crotch and knew that someone was going the mile high club. As she turned to leave the row, she was staring straight at Jacob’s cock that was pointing straight out. When she stood up, she said “Would you like some assistance fixing that sir?”

“I got it, thanks” and sat down and down and plugged in his phone.

In a snooty attitude since she had been shot down, “I’m going to ask that you turn that off when we start our landing process.”

As Jacob was impatiently waiting for his phone to turn back on, Emily started to awaken. She couldn’t believe that she had gone from a lights out intercourse type person to this showoff in a short amount of time. While these thoughts were rattling in her head, the device was awakened and set to a sine wave.

When the first wave was started, pilot went over the intercom, “We have begun our initial descent in to the Atlanta Jackson-Hartsfield airport. Our flight attendants will make a last pass through the plane and pick up any unwanted material. We will be on the ground in twenty minutes.” Coot knew she only had to make it fifteen minutes and the device would be off and she would be clear but Emily needed release since she had been subjected to close to an hour or bliss.

Coot heard the henchman asked Mr. Bigg, “Boss has she given up any info yet?”

“Nothing useful yet.”

“Let me help.” The attendant reached forward, acting like she was grabbing the trash on the arm rest and instead pinched Coot’s left nipple hard.

This caused Emily’s eyes to open and she let out a yelp. While it hurt, it got her close to her much needed orgasm. As the attendant was going in to do the same to the other nipple, Emily gave the attendant a pleading look, begging for release, and turned her chest so the distance was less. As the attendant’s hand gently cupped Emily’s right tit, Emily knew her orgasm would be huge and was imminent. As her thumb and index finger started to squeeze, a seat two rows back pressed the flight attendant button. The attendant said “Fuck” and walked back to see what the issue was. Agent Coot was back in control and could resist.

After a few minutes, the henchman returned and said, “Sir, it’s was unsafe to continue as her brain will be mush and she won’t be useful.” Mr. Bigg shook his head in agreement and turned off the phone. Agent Coot had survived and the plane landed a few minutes later.

While taxiing, Agent Coot could sense herself falling into madness. Is this really how the other agents fell? What other agents? Oh yeah, there were other agents. The difference was she put the device into herself and surely the other ones had it placed into them. Who came up with this device? Macey did, she is the mole. How could Macey do this, they came up in the academy together? They were so close. As all these thoughts bounced around in her head, she was shaking off the fog and getting her mind back to normal.

All seemed fine until she went to stand after the plane had parked and her knees were too weak after the multiple rounds she had endured. Mr. Bigg and the henchman helped her off the plane and up the jet way to a waiting cart that escorted two of them to the exit. Coot was doing everything in her power to convince herself that she was still in control. She soon found out that they were going to be picked up by the real masterminds, The King and Queen, also known as Howard and Martha Jones. Howard, the cold, iron fisted despot that controlled everything, or so he thought and Martha, the Matriarch of the family. She was the one that really controlled everything. Martha had despised Agent Coot since the first time they met. As the long black SUV pulled up, Mr. Bigg led her around and set her in the seat behind the King and he then put the packages in the back of the car. He walked around and took the seat behind the Queen and they were off to the secret lair with their escort leading the way and mersin escort the tail gunner following.

King, “How was your trip?”

Bigg, “Great. We think that we might do it again and see some other areas.” Agent Coot was going to be quiet and just take everything in and figure out what the plan was since they were speaking in code. “Father, sorry for missing another round of golf today.”

King, “Don’t worry about it. I’m thinking that we might want to change our days anyways. The club is too packed on Sunday mornings. I think that we will now go on Monday mornings.” Coot knew something was up, this man had played golf every Sunday since…. before Mr. Bigg was out running the streets. Mr. Bigg had only been invited to play with the King the third weekend every month since the Colonel had passed three years prior. Trying to keep the prying ears of law enforcement out of his dealings, the King only played in twosomes. The Cleaner, his accountant, was the first weekend of the month. The Disposer, his lead muscle and lawyer, was the second Sunday. The Pope, his longest confidant, was the fourth weekend of the month. For the odd month that there are five Sundays, the Court Jester, the Queen’s brother, was invited to play.

Bigg, “Are you sure? With the exception of Hurricanes, you haven’t missed a Sunday in 30 years.”

King, “I actually haven’t gone the last two months and it feels fine. Is that a new perfume you have on there?”

Agent Coot, playing nice, responded with “Nope, no perfume today.”

King, “Smells…” taking in a huge breath “earthy. Really nice, whatever it is. Doesn’t it dear?” When the Queen didn’t answer, he repeated himself, “Doesn’t it, DEAR?”

This snapped the Queen out of her trance. “Yup, you are right.” Coot was now trying to put everything together. The Queen had never been this quiet before nor had she ever paid the Agent a compliment. Plus, she had never worn red lipstick before. Like her heart, she was more of a cold neutral shade person. And she was playing with her Friday pearls. These were a much larger set than her normal ones. It had three pearls in the middle that were close to 3/4″ in diameter and the remainder at 1/2″. She would suck on each bead, pull it out, move it one bead over, then suck that one. Round and round she went on the necklace. What smell is he talking about?

Queen, “It’s getting warm in here better turn the AC up.” What Coot hadn’t planned for was that with the angle that she was restrained in the seat, the duct blew right up her skirt and hit her soaked panties and sent a chill through her body. This is how they are going to try to get the secret codes out of her, freeze her to death. But she wouldn’t break from this.

King “That perfume is getting stronger?”

Queen “You are right, that perfume does smell nice. What is it dear?”

Coot realized what they were smelling and was hopeful that her scent could calm these villains into a false sense of security. “Must be some lotion I put on. Just picked up some Tulip lotion.”

For the next few minutes, they drove in silence. The King looked like he was deep in thought but tried to play it cool. The Queen was playing with her pearls. Mr. Bigg was playing on his phone, clearly watching where all of their minions were causing chaos around the city. Coot was studying the portion of the Queen’s face that she could see. It looked as if some of the wrinkles on her face were disappearing. And her breasts seemed higher up and larger. What is their diabolical plan? Are they sucking the lives out of virgins? What are they doing? It then dawned on her that she had been in Savannah for the last two months. She had clearly been working on a secret plan of domination

Emily was deep in her fantasy daydream when Jacob decided to have some more fun. He pulled up the app up and set a program on the Lush. As he hit the start button, Coot let out a “HEEEE.”

King, “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!” and Coot settled in for another round that she was sure she could take until she found that there were no rests and the movements were random. A wave would flow into a step but a step would never hit a rest. Sometimes the high step would go on for what would have been five beats. In the jostling of getting out of the plane and into the car, the toy had shift and was now thumping against her spongy g-stop and the end was reverberating against her clit. Her clit was so engorged that it had extended and cleared the hood and was getting direct pressure from the end. Agent Coot knew it was lost and gave up and drifted off to nothingness. Meanwhile Emily was torn with trying to fight of this orgasm and needing release. She thought about all the times her old, dried up, MIL had been the dominant female and shut down the enjoyment of the group. Her ovaries were surely dried up and her pussy was filled with dust, her time was done as she had been put out to pasture. Emily was the now the dominant breeding female, she was in heat and would get release. With this, her orgasm slammed into her harder than she had ever felt one. Her feet shot out and she kicked the bottom of King’s seat. Her abs tightened as pulse after pulse of the Lush milked her g-spot. During this, she had an out of body experience where she swore she looked into the Queen’s eyes and saw a small flicker of fire that she had never seen before. Happiness in the Kings’s eyes as he fiddled with a silver pen. Jacob was flicking the tip of his hard cock. Then she saw herself, the whites of her eyes as they had rolled back into her head and she shouted “Breath!” at herself as she had been holding it for the duration of her orgasm.

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

Amanda got in early that day and found a box on her chair with a note from Miss Natalya. She shook from excitement at the thought of what was inside, but based on the box she had at least a slight idea.

She set down her bag and phone and lifted the top off the box. Inside she saw the tiniest set of what looked like lingerie that she had ever seen. There was a note inside as well.

Amanda:

Please remove all the clothes you came in with and lock them in your bottom desk drawer. Then please put on the outfit and follow the instructions on the note at the bottom.

Miss N.

Amanda suddenly flushed from both the excitement and just a bit of nervousness. Was this what she was asking for or was it too much for her? She couldn’t think straight and just started following the instructions and disrobed. She took the top garment out and held it up. It took a few seconds of twisting and turning to find the top, bottom, arm and leg holes, and straps. Settling her legs through the bottom she pulled up thin lines of material that sat against her folds, a thin line of beads aligned with her slit and massaged all the way up to her already slightly engorged clit. She trembled as she lifted the shoulder straps up and over and slid each arm through and adjusted what there was. The thin strips over her bust almost covered her nipples and maybe once they were hard, as they would probably stay all day, they could hide underneath. She shuddered a little, feeling the lines along every body part that was now at a state of arousal she might not be able to take very long. Looking in the box there was a top, a very sheer top that was not meant to cover much, but she saw it had words on it. “SEX TOY” in shiny sequins along the front, providing another half an inch here or there of cover for her breasts.

She looked in the box and saw the other note.

Last step! Take out the sign and put it on your desk facing the waiting area. She lifted out the sign and read it, “USE ME” it said on it. She was to be played with, by anyone in the lobby, if they desired. Did she want that? “Yes”, she said to herself. She very much wanted it, and if Miss Natalya wanted it then she wanted it even more. She was almost throbbing now.

She sat down to get to work, but as she did, she felt the beads cross over her lips then slightly rub her clit and she let out a soft, low moan. Just then Dr. N entered the waiting area and smiled.

“Very good, Amanda, you have done well. Now, if you behave you may get a similar reward as yesterday. But you have to be on your best behavior and not cum before I do. Do you understand?” Miss Natalya finished and Amanda looked up at her, a distant look in her eyes as if she was already cumming. She took in a breath that seemed like it took all her effort.

“Yes…Miss Natalya. I,, understand.” Amanda just barely got out her response. Just then she could swear she felt the beads along her lips vibrate or move on their own. Was she just imagining things? She was almost about to explode already, how could she make it through all their patient sessions today? She figured she might have to take her chances and hope Miss Natalya was lenient on her if she had to sneak in two or three orgasms in between. She had to calm her thoughts and focus, but every time she did, she felt the beads hum and move and was almost sent over the edge again. She focused her breathing. Just then the first patient of the day arrived and sat down. She didn’t seem to notice the sign or the way Amanda was dressed, not until she stood to bring her in to Dr. N.

“My, you’re dressed rather provocatively for work, aren’t you young lady?” The patient said.

“Yes, ma’am, my boss will make sure I am appropriately punished. You must be Amy?” Amanda barely eked out her greeting, and as she did her crotch buzzed and the beads strummed her slit. She moaned a little as she escorted Amy to the office.

“Dr. N, Amy is here for her session.” Amanda was breathless.

“Oh great, Amy, I’m Dr. Natalya, or Dr. N if you prefer, please sit anywhere.” Dr. N said smiling past Amy, looking directly at Amanda. She licked her lips a little and teased Amanda.

Amy looked back to see Amanda locked onto Dr. N’s stare, looking blankly at her as her body was being driven beyond the edge, but never far enough.

“Thank you, Amanda, that will be all.” Dr. N said, her smile having a hint of mischief.

“So, Amy what brings you to my office today?” Dr. N started, with the same clear therapist voice, in spite of the rising bayburt escort sexual tension with Amanda.

“Let me ask you a question first.” Amy started and Dr. N nodded, “Do you see anything wrong with my tits?”

Dr. N was taken aback by the frankness of Amy’s question. “Not at all, they’re magnificent, large and pillowy, and from what I can tell, you’re nipples are beautiful as well.” Amy looked down to see she was indeed smuggling raisins already.

“Thank you, I think so too, but my girlfriend wants them to be bigger. Oh, and get this, she wants me to lactate so she can suckle on them and drink my milk. I mean, I’m cool with the idea, but I’m not getting pregnant just so she can nurse on me like a big sex baby.” Amy didn’t beat around the bush and was very forward with her issues.

“I see, well, there might be a way we can accomplish that without you needing to be pregnant, if you really think she wants that.” Dr. N offered plainly.

“What? You mean you could make me lactate for my girlfriend’s fantasy? You’re a better therapist than I thought. Sign me up.” Amy was seemingly all onboard.

Dr. N scribbled on her pad and then handed a slip to Amy. “Here, take this to the address on the top and they should be able to help you.”

She then grabbed a folded note and handed it to Amy and told her to hand it to Amanda. Amy took the note and then headed out of the office.

“Amanda? Dr. N asked me to hand you this.” Amy said, confused.

Amanda took the notes, opened and read it. Her eyes opened a little wider as she stood nervously. She paused a bit, sucked in a breath and then read the note out loud.

“Please pinch my nipples, I like it when you pinch them hard.” Amanda said, her voice breaking slightly.

Amy stood and stared. She wasn’t sure what to think. Then Amanda added a please to the end of her question so Amy obliged. She grabbed each nipple between her thumb and index finger and pinched hard. Amanda groaned hard, and had to steady herself as the pain from her nipples shot straight to her overheated crotch and the beads moved some more, bringing her closer, but stopping.

“Thank you.” Amanda struggled out, breathless and near the edge still seeking release.

“Whatever, kind of weird, but the doc seems cool. Thanks.” Amy replied and left the office on her way to figure out what the doc had planned.

Amanda moaned softly as the pain subsided, but not the ache. She moved back to her seat and tried to calm herself, but nothing much was working, she needed to rub her pussy now, and ease her need just a little, not all the way, but enough to get through the next couple hours. She started to reach for her pussy, but heard the door open and another patient walked in. She almost didn’t care, but it reminded her of the promised punishment if she couldn’t make it. The same routine for this one and the next. They came out with notes from the doctor. Amanda asked one to spank both ass cheeks with a ruler Dr. N had placed on her desk. The pain burned red hot into her tender butt. She tried to sit, but had to fidget to get close to comfortable, sitting up further in her seat to relieve some of the discomfort.

The next patient handed her a note and she almost dreaded opening it. She peeled apart the paper and gawked at what it said. How was she supposed to ask someone she didn’t know to do this. She looked up and started to shake a little.

“Please..kiss my pussy.” Amanda’s shoulders dropped as she finished and almost started to cry. Why did she want this so badly. She was enjoying this too much, even though it made her feel horrible at the time. She was suddenly even more aroused, hoping she was pleasing Miss Natalya enough.

The patient looked at her and smiled. Getting down on her knees, the cute brunette leaned forward into Amanda’s thighs. “I’ll do you one better than that.” She pressed her face in between her legs planting a long kiss against the beads that were wet with Amanda. Her lips moved the beads to the side and made contact with her pussy, then nuzzled against her spreading her folds slightly, sliding her tongue along her slit gently before retreating.

She stood up and leaned in toward Amanda and pressed her pussy covered lips against her and kissed her deeply, letting her hand brush up against Amanda’s overly aroused mound, patting her gently.

“Miss Natalya will see you now…” The patient turned and left.

How did she know our little game. What bartın escort did Miss Natalya tell her, or was she already involved somehow? Amanda’s thoughts were a mess. She collected herself and started to walk into the office, but as she crossed the threshold the beads in her panty starting humming and moving. She took one step through the door and her knees buckled as she started cumming hard. She fell to her knees and clutched at her crotch, her pussy throbbing as she started to sob, realizing she couldn’t make it all the way until after she was able to please Miss Natalya. She broke down completely. Her pussy still throbbing, her body trembling, her chest heaving in heavy sobs. She heard a sweet voice call to her.

“Amanda…Amanda, dear. Don’t cry. Everything is okay. I am amazed you made it as far as you did. It couldn’t have been easy for you with all that we threw at you. The outfit, the patients, and me. You did well. It was a test that you passed. I figured you would have given in before lunch and run screaming or something.” Dr. N moved over to comfort her poor, broken assistant. She knelt down next to her and rubbed her back soothingly. Amanda looked up and smiled through her tears.

“So, you’re not upset with me?” Amanda sniffed through her response.

“No dear. How could I be upset with an angel like you? You have pleased me very much today.” Dr. N said in a calming soothing musical tone. It was almost like a magical spell that she whispered over her.

“Thank you, Miss Natalya. I only want to please you.” Amanda replied.

“Well, if you really want to please me, you can finish what you started yesterday. That was not enough.” Dr. N said with a wicked smile on her face.

Amanda lifted herself up and moved to pleasure Miss Natalya and thank her for being so good to her.

“I don’t deserve someone as nice as you for my Mistress. Thank you, Miss Natalya.”

Miss Natalya patted her head and slowly moved her down until she felt her face brush against her slick pussy.

…

Later that day, Amy drove to the address and parked along a side street as the area was too busy to park that close. Walking up she found the storefront, but hadn’t ever noticed it before today. She thought it was a little weird, this old looking shop nestled between some modern buildings, but it didn’t bother her much as she was focused on seeing what this was going to do for her and Belinda, her girlfriend. She walked in, jingling the bell atop the door.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” Amy shouted at a seemingly empty store.

“Be right with you miss, just finishing something up in the back.” The shopkeeper answered, his voice somewhat muffled behind the stacks of odd items.

After a moment he emerged, covered slightly in a whitish green powder, his hands stained a little darker.

Amy handed the man her slip and he looked at it curiously.

“Hmm, second script from this pad in as many weeks, after I hadn’t seen one in ages. Mind if I ask who gave you this?” The shopkeeper asked, extremely curious.

“A Dr. Natalya, she’s a sex therapist.” Amy answered.

“Hah, Natalya this time. It’s always some interesting name. On the script, I can’t do lactation without pregnancy, but I think I can manage to fake the pregnancy part so you’ll just get the belly, but no baby. Is that still okay?” the shopkeeper shared, then wanted to be sure Amy knew what she was getting into.

“Yeah, that’s fine. No baby and a big belly for a bit for my girlfriend to get her ovaries all worked up and crazy for me. Yeah, I can do that.” Amy seemed to agree without hesitation, even if her logic might have been a bit strained.

The shopkeeper laughed and told her it would be a few minutes as he put that together for her.

She waited, looking at some of the things in the shop, not exactly sure what some of them were so she tried to avoid touching or breaking anything. It wasn’t long before the shopkeeper emerged and handed her a bag with three items.

“Three things, pill first, kind of primes the pump so to speak, blue cream on the boobies and a green cream on the belly, in that order. Don’t mix up the creams or the order of the three. The same is on the note inside. Oh, and if you see Natalya again, tell her Temesto says hello. She should remember me.” The shopkeeper winked at Amy as he went back to work in the shop, returning to his previous task behind the shelves.

Amy headed home and was excited to share the ığdır escort whole thing with her girlfriend when she got home from work. Once she was home, she showered and put on some loose yoga pants, not knowing what was going to happen with her surprise. She dug out the loosest sport bra she had and put that on the bed next to her and got set to use the prescription. She skipped the instructions since she knew she remembered the order and things and went to get a glass of water for the pill. She swallowed that; first step done. She didn’t feel anything right away, so she wasn’t sure if she believed this would work. Then she took out the creams, mixing up the blue and green ones, putting the green on her tits first, then some of the blue on her belly. She felt a strong tingling as she imagined she could see her breasts start to swell. She wasn’t imagining things, and she scrambled to pull the sport bra over her, but it was too late as her breasts exceeded it by several sizes now. Her belly swelled as well, looking like she was at least six months pregnant by now.

She staggered to reach the bed and lie down on it and rolled as much as she could to stay on before her weight toppled her off the edge. She heard the door open and close and a sweet voice call out to say she was home. Amy called to her girlfriend from the bedroom and as Belinda turned the corner to greet her, she stopped dead and stared at her goddess, sprawled out all over the bed. Her breasts now consumed most of the bed next to Amy’s body, but at least appeared to have stopped growing.

“What happened? I mean, I love it, but still.” Belinda cried out in shock.

“I went to the therapist today to discuss our issue, and she helped me work through it. Come on over here and drain me, my tits feel so full and heavy I can barely move.” Amy was using her best sexy talk to convince Belinda to just take her now. She really needed the help.

“Right away.” Belinda almost shrieked, pulling off her clothes as she wanted to feel all of her skin against Amy’s inflated mounds.

She snuggled up next to Amy and put her head between the mountains that had replaced Amy’s already full tits. She felt the warmth of all the extra cleavage around her head and just relished the feeling of being hugged by nothing but boob. She was already hot and she hadn’t even started to suckle. She ran her tongue around one of Amy’s nipples and just the light touch drew out a droplet of milk. Belinda lapped at it then latched on instinctively, almost against her will. She was drawn to Amy’s breast like the hungriest child. She sucked and sucked, the milk gushing out of Amy’s nipple, filling Belinda and swelling her stomach. It wasn’t long before she was full.

Amy looked down at her contented baby, asleep now, but noticed her boob had shrunk quite a bit from the suckling, while the other was quite a bit larger. She needed to have Belinda work each side equally it appeared. She also noticed that her stomach had shrunk from the suckling as well. That was a positive as she was worried about how long that would last.

Belinda woke slightly and Amy nudged her toward her other breast and she latched on as soon as she was at her nipple. She suckled even though she was barely awake. It seemed that she was drawn to it and Amy knew at that point it was beyond her control. Belinda fell asleep and dropped off again, Amy thought her breasts were pretty close to being even, so she was happy. She also noticed her stomach was almost down to its normal size. She was very happy about that. But Belinda’s stomach was growing quite a bit larger than Amy’s had been to begin with and she worried about the effect of the milk on her.

Belinda awoke a few hours later and looked down at her stomach and almost screamed.

“What have you done to me? I’m huge, and I swear it feels like I’m really pregnant!” Belinda shouted at Amy, trying to get up on the bed, but needing help.

Amy rushed over to her to calm her down and slowly help her up. “What are you talking about, you can’t be pregnant. Plus, I was the one who used the prescription, not you.”

“You mean the magic potion? What kind of prescription do you know of can make you fake pregnant and lactating in the same day? Did you do anything wrong with the potion or anything? Maybe you messed it up.” Belinda was upset, no way around that.

Amy went over to the bag and took out the note and realized she had indeed put the wrong creams on the wrong body parts. “But, how would that change anything?”

“You did mess it up, didn’t you? I sucked pregnant belly juice out of your tits, didn’t I? Oh fuck, this is a mess. I’m not even sure how any of this happened or works or whatever.” Belinda was frantic and Amy couldn’t do much to calm her down. She would have to get to the doctor’s again, or maybe the apothecary to ask what could be done.

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“Is everything okay?”

Cora was walking home from a nice lunch out with her new boyfriend, Alexei. Normally cheerful and talkative, he’d been quiet and terse on their walk home. “Yes,” he snapped.”

Um. Did I do something wrong?”

“No. Sorry. Just um. Not feeling well.”

“Oh! Well, we’re almost back to your place, then you can rest.”

At that moment, a fart escaped from Alexei’s bottom, and he instinctively pressed his hand against his anus.

“Oh,” Cora said again, understanding. Her new boyfriend had to potty. Quite badly, it seemed, and it would take them another fifteen minutes or so to get back to his townhome. She was shocked at the predicament. Alexei was about 6’2 and quite manly. He had a big, corporate job, and he made big money to match. He was very dominant in their relationship, both in and out of the bedroom, and she liked it that way. At the moment though, he was bright red with embarrassment and looked like he could cry. She never dreamed she’d see him like this.

“Was it something you ate at the restaurant?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered in an uncharacteristically small voice.

“Do you think you’ll make it, honey?”

His eyes widened in horror. “Of course I will!”

“Okay, okay,” she said, realizing she’d overstepped and embarrassed him further. She wasn’t confident that he would make it, though, and she started planning the accident clean-up as they walked. Several more minutes passed in silence. That is, except for the near constant stream of muted farts coming from Alexei that she was politely ignoring. Suddenly, one of his farts was a bit louder than usual, and he froze, pressing his hand to his bottom again and turning so that his back was facing the nearest building.

“Oh! Um,” Cora started, trying to figure out how to inquire without humiliating him unnecessarily. “Did you…did you go? Just now?”

Alexei’s face was kütahya escort frozen in shell-shocked horror, but he shook his head no. “Just- I think a little bit came out. Cora, I need to go, now.”

Ah. So he sharted. The clock was ticking. “It’s all right, honey, let’s go, almost back.”

Alexei led the way, clearly moving as fast as his bowels would allow. Cora’s eyes zeroed in on a new wet patch on the back of his gray sweatpants. Quite a shart. No wonder he’d frozen in horror. He must have thought he wouldn’t be able to get it to stop.

Cora was sure he would have an accident. Now, her goal was to get him as close to his house as possible when it happened to minimize the chances of anyone but her finding out. They were on his block, now, and his gate was only about a hundred feet away. As he frantically unlocked the gate, Cora wondered if she’d been wrong. Maybe he would make it.

She’d barely finished her thought before he gasped and pressed his hand against his butthole again.

“Fuck! Nononononoooo,” he moaned. Her mouth fell open as the wet patch on his sweatpants grew bigger and the seat of his pants bulged like a full diaper. He waddled inside the gate, and Cora quickly closed the gate behind them.

“Oh honey, it’s okay,” she said as tears welled in his eyes. “You held it for a really long time. Accidents happen sometimes.”

“I only had a little way to go,” he whined. She looked down and saw a big circle on the front of his pants where his bladder had leaked with the force of his bowel movement.

“That just happens sometimes when your belly is upset,” she said, rubbing his arm. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I had an accident in front of you,” he whimpered.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Of course I am!” His chin wobbled. Poor thing, he really was humiliated. She’d never seen him cry before.

“Aw, malatya escort you don’t need to be, honey. I’m glad I’m here to help you when you’re sick. Now let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.”

Alexei nodded, but cringed and froze in place when he took a step forward.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I can’t go in there like this. I’ll make a mess on the carpet, and the housekeeper will know.”

He cringed as she turned him by his hips so she could survey his backside. “It looks okay. Is it not staying in your underpants?”

“No, it’s- it’s running down my leg,” he whimpered. “I can feel it.”

Cora understood what was happening now. Every time he took a step, it was squishing out of the leg holes in the snug boxer briefs she knew he wore. Of course, she wouldn’t mind cleaning the carpet for him, but it was some kind of special material that required special care. Her poor boy, she couldn’t imagine his humiliation if his housekeeper had to clean up his potty on the carpet like a dog.

“Is there anyone else in the house right now?”

“No, thank god,” he huffed.

She looked around at the impenetrable, 10 foot hedges that surrounded his small property, common for the houses on the street. “Is there a hose outside?” He gave her a look like he was devastated by the suggestion, but he nodded.

“In the back.” He pointed for her to go get it, but she played dumb. She wanted him to lead the way so that she could enjoy the sight of her handsome, sexy boyfriend waddling with his full pants.

When they got back there, she made him stand in the grass, his back to her. Cora slowly lowered his sweatpants, exposing his bulging underwear. “I think we can save these pants, sweetheart,” she said as she instructed him to step out of them. It was true- she’d run a load of wash when they got inside. They were wet, smelly, and batman escort discolored, but they should come clean in the wash.

“I think these underpants are a lost cause, though, I’m sorry to say.”

There might have been a chance if he hadn’t chosen today of all days to wear his white pair. A big, softball-sized brown lump was weighing them down. Brown mush oozed out of the leg holes in the back, as he’d feared, and wet streaks ran all the way down below his knees.

“No wonder you couldn’t hold it, honey,” she cooed. “That’s quite a big load.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he groaned. “I can’t believe you have to do this, like I’m a baby. I’m so sorry, Cora.”

“Shush, enough of that, honey. I told you, I’m fine with this.” Truth was, she was more than fine with it. Seeing her normally big, strong, manly man so humiliated like this was doing things to her. She was struggling to act natural and not press her thighs together. “I’m gonna slide your underpants down, now.” She flicked her fingers in the waist band and slowly dragged the heavy, ruined panties down his muscular, hairy thighs.

“Oh god, that smells so bad, Cora, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t help it honey, don’t apologize.” It did smell absolutely atrocious. If it hadn’t been her boyfriend, she would’ve gagged, but knowing that she was cleaning her man up made it more bearable.

When he stepped out of them, she left his soiled underwear in the grass and surveyed the damage that was left. His poor bottom was coated with his poop. Long streaks coated the insides and backs of his legs. He let out a high pitch yelp at the cold hose. She had switched it to the gentlest setting, but of course it was still ice cold. When he was nice and clean, she instructed him to tug his shirt down to cover up his penis and hurry in the house. He still needed a shower, she informed him, to make sure he didn’t get a sore bum.

“Thank you for being so nice, Cora,” he murmured, his lower lip out.

“That’s what girlfriends are for, silly,” she said. She got up on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. He kissed her back, looking surprised. She put his hand between her thighs to feel her heat there. He gasped. “Don’t get dressed after your shower,” she murmured. “I’m not done with you.”

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The fifteenth and sixteenth holes at our golf course run out and back. Hole fifteen goes west 400 yards; the sixteenth runs back in parallel, 400 yards the opposite way. Between them is a strip of scrub brush and trees, delineating the boundaries for both.

Although the clubhouse and proper washrooms are only a 10 minutes or so away from both holes in terms of golf playing time, it’s not unusual for beer, coffee or other influences to bring about a man’s need to take advantage of the convenience of Mother Nature to get rid of that unwanted baggage. And so it happened on that brisk fall day, on a near empty golf course, that Joe went into the bush on sixteen, as I did the same on fifteen. We were both there simply to take care of business.

I heard him before I saw him. The sound of branches snapping and steps on dry leaves told me someone or something was nearby. Concerned that it was a woman or someone who’d be offended, I awkwardly but quickly pushed my dick back into hiding, behind my hand and sort of inside my pants. I peered through the bush in the direction of the sound. And as I pulled a branch back, my eyes locked in on Joe’s eyes. I could not help but glance down seeing his hand on his dick. He had evidently finished doing what he needed to do, and was shaking it, as guys do.

But it was more than a glance. Not a stare, but more then a glance. It was the glisten of the tip, the motion of the shake, and the nature of his return eye contact that gave me a start and caught my attention. He did not divert his eyes, the way many shy people would in that situation. No, it almost seemed that his gaze became more intense. Surprise but also something primal. Neither one of us said a word but something had been communicated.

Given that I was playing the hole behind him, it would follow that he would be done with golf for the day about ten minutes before me. Normally I shower and change clothes after the game, and with the chill of the fall I was looking forward to an even longer hot shower. I cut across the parking lot from the eighteenth green to get to the clubhouse, noting that there were only three cars: mine, the manager’s and presumably Joe’s.

Down a long corridor past the banks of lockers are the showers. There are four shower stalls at the club. Each stall provides some privacy by way of a plastic opaque curtain. Within each stall is a small area, between the curtain and actual shower, for undressing, furnished with a wooden bench. The club makes sure there’s a stack of fresh towels provided, on each bench.

As I started down the stairs down to the locker room, I could hear the sound of a shower splashing. Midway down the stairs the sound stopped. It did not take Sherlock Holmes to figure out it would have been Joe finishing his post game refreshing, probably grabbing a towel to dry off.

As I went past the lockers into the shower area corridor, something weird happened to my state of mind. It was like some science fiction movie where a rational person all of a sudden becomes controlled by some alien. Joe was in the first of the four showers; I could see his silhouette behind the plastic curtain. I should have continued on to one of the empty shower stalls, but I didn’t. Without any rational, planned thought, as I was aside the first shower my whole being decided to make a turn and push the plastic curtain to the right along the curtain rod.

Joe was slightly startled, but interestingly, his gaze held mine as it had in the scrub trees. He was toweling off his cock and balls and he continued to look into my eyes. He didn’t stop or try to hide anything.

I have always had a fantasy: that a freshly showered, clean, warm cock is the best kind. To be able to play with it, suck it hard, getting a whiff of soap scent would be üsküdar escort amazing. And here I was, in that moment, in my fantasy. I had no particular plan, beyond being in that moment, letting things go where they might, me allowing the primal me to simply act and enjoy.

Joe was still drying his shaft and balls, still making absolutely no effort to be modest and hide. He continued to hold my gaze. So, I moved into the stall, and undid my belt, dropped my pants and underwear, took off my shirt, becoming fully naked in short order. I dropped to me knees, pulling the towel aside and tossing it on the floor.

I was not going to rush this. I had one thought in my mind, and that thought was to suck him off so amazingly well that he would remember this time for the rest of his life. I wanted his balls to twitch and his eyes to betray him if, at some point in time in the future, he happened to be in the restaurant with his wife and I passed by their table to simply say hello.

The lights were bright, as they would be in a shower area. As I moved in on my knees towards his shaft, I could feel the heat from the shower, and Joe as well. The base of his shaft had a color of pink, the kind of pink that happens when you rub your skin roughly. I gave a deliberate hot breath to the base of his shaft right where his cock met his body. His balls had dropped from the heat of the shower, and as I gave another hot breath, I could see his ball sack start to tighten, in tandem with the first throbbing twitch of his cock getting harder.

He was obviously reacting to me. After a minute or so, his cock was on its way to being fully hard, and his balls continued to pull up. I decided to take this slow, working his whole package to excitement in tandem by breathing on his shaft, licking near the base, caressing his balls, getting him gradually in a state where his sack was tight and his cock head full and brightly colored, throbbing and waiting for next stages.

I was moving slowly enough to have time to think and plan while he was getting harder. I knew that the next stage I wanted to get to would involve him producing a beautiful, huge drop of precum. Getting the size of pearl I wanted could take take time. I wanted that pearl to be big enough that it was about ready to fall to the ground. But it wouldn’t, because it would be my first taste treat. After that, I planned to milk and squeeze a second drop up the shaft.

With me, the slower I get myself aroused, the more I produce precum and the longer I can milk that precum. I was going to do the same with Joe. I started with my tongue wide and wet, dragging it slowly across the underside of his cockhead. And then I did it again, and again. I made my the tip of my tongue stiff, and rubbed it along the groove where the cockhead joins the shaft.

I like the feel of a light, soft jerkoff and so I made a circle with my index finger and right hand thumb, wrapping the circle around his shaft. At first, my strokes were slow and long, all the way down to his balls. As I pulled down towards his body, I opened my mouth wide and took half of his cockhead between my lips. He gently thrust forward. His hips extended and withdrew, pumping the air, feeling my circled fingers, experiencing the wetness of my lips. I could see his ass clench and relax as his thrusts became more extended and deliberate.

I knew that his fucking action would probably be priming his prostate to get the precum flowing. I pulled back from letting him feel the warmth and wetness of my lips. I pointed his cock slit at my face and began to very lightly and quickly jerk him off, imagining it erupting with cum, smelling that cum, feeling that cum, tasting that cum.

It was time for me to milk gaziemir escort out precum. I stopped jerking him, pushing his cock against his stomach, putting my right index finger down to the underside of the base of his cock. I pushed with some pressure against the vein on the underside, moving my finger up. As my index finger took the trip up to the halfway point between the base and cockhead, the tip of Joe’s cock began to glisten, then ooze, then get wet, and then dribble with a stream flowing down to the groove of his frenulum down the edge of his cockhead.

I wanted him to get a view, to see his cock on my face and lips, dipping my tongue in his precum. I pulled back, looked at him in the eyes, pulled his cock forward, and milked the precum onto my wide tongue. He groaned. Then I went up the shaft again with my finger, milking a second drop up the shaft and out of the cock slit. This drop I kissed, pursing my lips as my lips detected the pearl, making sure I spread it across my upper and lower lips, then licking them.

I had him now. I was telling myself that his cock was mine, and he would remember this orgasm for the rest of his life. His thrusts were more involuntary. His breathing was different, a little raspy. I felt like I was in control of that cock and I wanted him to know his dick was mine. I pulled back and told him, “your cock and cum are mine”.

All of this was getting me going. My cock was rock hard and I knew it was time to move on to the next part of the plan. This would involve me getting into the action, for this to be a hot memory for me as well.

I made sure I was squarely between his knees at cock level, and reached up with my left hand, grabbing his ball sack firmly at the base of his shaft, so that I could direct his movement, and add a different sensation. I coaxed him forward with my left hand, lifting his cock into my mouth. With my right hand, I reached down to my own cock, which had its own precum drip. I pulled my precum onto my finger, then brought it up to his cock. I rubbed my precum over the head of his dick, then putting his cock back in my mouth and my right hand back on own dick. My precum had the effect of making his cockhead even slicker.

He started dribbling more, and as I licked the third drop of precum, while stroking myself, I looked up at him and told him (in no uncertain terms) that he and I were going to edge for a while. The pace of our action picked up. I wanted to stroke myself and Joe as close as I could to the point of no return. Once again, I was imagining some future moment where I’d see him with his wife, knowing he would recall being almost tortured by my control of the timing of him busting his nut.

It’s one thing to blow a guy without personally getting into the fun, but its way more exciting to be taking the same train trip. He was looking down at me sucking him off, and I could tell part of what he was watching was my own hand action on myself. I made sure he’d have a good line of sight on my own stroking. The first trip to the edge would involve me stroking my cock in synch with my mouth strokes down his shaft. I felt myself getting close and I wanted to make this as slutty and dirty as I could, so I deliberately started moaning. The sound only encouraged him to fuck my face more forcefully. As I came close to cumming, I pulled my head back and kept my lips about an inch from his wet cockhead. He tried to thrust to get contact, but I withdrew so he was simply fucking air, breathing heavily. His cock was twitching and the head had a shiny, purple look.

He twitched a couple of times, and after a minute or so of his cock hanging in the air I could see the slightest beginning of it relaxing. His cock head dropped a sancaktepe escort slight amount, and I figured the semi relaxation state would mean that he would offer up some more precum dribble. I was delighted when he did, and once again I gave him a show as I fed on him.

I could feel my own precum on my cock and decided, for the next round of edging, to go all in on getting my own dick wet. I gave Joe some aggressive up and own mouth strokes to get him back into pumping his hips, then I pulled back and spit down onto my cock, knowing it had a healthy amount of his precum mixed in. As I started stroking, the atmosphere of raw man sex increased as we could both hear the sound of my wet cock jacking. That inspired us both to moan and grunt, and anyone walking by would have thought it a very raunchy scene.

But I was not done yet. I had planned to go to the edge twice or more. The sounds of wet cock and sloppy cock blowing drove us closer to cumming more quickly. I thought I heard him mutter “yeah”, so I immediately pulled back off his shaft. I’d been correct that he was about to unload, as something white and more than a dribble started to flow from his slit. Had I ruined his orgasm? Not quite. I leaned forward to catch the dribble of white jizz with my tongue as it dangled off the head.

He was squirming now, and as much as I had a plan to extend the fun, I also knew that neither one of us were going to be calm and logical as we descended into raw sex mode. He grunted and asked me if I wanted his load. I grunted back in the affirmative, and he growled back, “yeah, where do you want this?”.

Part of me was wanting to have him throb all of his his load into my mouth. I love blow job porn where the cock twitches, and the giver simply holds tight and accepts the cum. But a bigger part of my state of mind wanted him to have a strong visual recollection. I wanted him to remember unloading on my face and lips, leaving me with a messy facial that he would have in his memory forever.

As I moved back about a foot, he instinctively grabbed his cock and started stroking. I spit on it loudly to keep it wet, and ordered him, “spray me, hit my lips and tongue”. As I leaned back I knew he could see me jerking my cock. I told him that I would cum when he shot his load.

And that is how we finished. He was stroking furiously. Then he paused as he began to orgasm, holding his shaft to build up pressure for the first shot. I was visually focused on the slit at the end, waiting for the white spurt. It came fast, and just as I wanted, hit my pursed lips. My tongue slipped out of my mouth to taste, and as the sensation and taste of warm, bleach smelling jizz entered my being, I came, into my left hand.

As these things often go, after the intensity and insanity, there was a moment of post orgasmic quiet. “Fuck, that was hot”, I said. He grunted agreement.

I stood up and looked at him. I knew my face was a mess of jizz, and that my cock was dripping and releasing the last of my own load. There was a mirror over the sink on he other side of the shower stall hall, and I could see my cheeks and chin covered in his goo, the end of my own cock wet with jizz as it softened. I put my cum covered left index finger in my mouth, to mix our taste. As our eyes briefly locked, I let my tongue slide out, again, to confirm that we were now brothers in raunch, and cumsluts.

It was only next spring when I saw Joe next. He was at one of the small tables by the picture window at the Club restaurant, enjoying a sandwich with his wife. I couldn’t help myself, as I had fantasized this moment for a whole winter. I walked over to their table and introduced myself. As we exchanged pleasantries about the weather, I very deliberately made a point of extending my tongue very slightly and casually outside my lips, as one may do as you nod, listening politely to casual, trivial conversation.

I liked the fact that Joe not only noticed, but seemed to flush slightly. Inside my own mind, as I casually conversed with his wife, I kept thinking about how she and I both knew his taste, and how he grunts and pumps as he lets go.

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