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It was Friday afternoon. Lily was on her way home from school, backpack on her shoulders, and walking along an empty sidewalk near her house. She was focused on the all the sounds and sights around her; a pair of cardinals flying by, the breeze blowing through the trees, the dying muffler of a passing car, and something else. It sounded like she was being followed by someone, but before she could turn around to see who it was, her eyes were met with two hands blocking them. She let out a small yelp.

“Guess who!” she heard. When her vision was finally restored, she saw her friend, Stella, walking beside her.

“Why?” Lily asked.

“Because why not,” Stella replied. Lily looked at her and sarcastically shook her head. “So… how was school?” She asked.

“Boring,” Lily answered. “Just all the regular stuff. Although, we did manage to get out of Friday mass, I guess Father Ben wasn’t feeling so great today.”

“Yay for you then.”

“So how was not school?” Lily asked in return.

“Just living the dream,” Stella replied.

Lily and Stella knew each other since the fifth grade. Up until high school, the two girls attended the same catholic school, then Stella transferred to the public school while Lily’s parents kept her in the same catholic system. Not that she cared, all those years molded her into the perfect goody two-shoes her parents always wanted her to be, and she had no reason to be dissatisfied. Yeah, some of the classes were boring, and maybe a bit too focused on God at times, but there was hardly any typical high school drama, at least for her, and she mostly kept to herself anyway.

Stella was a much different story, however. Once she got to high school, she started getting a bit more rebellious. By the end of her freshmen year, she shed her typical conservative sweaters and khaki pants she had left over from her days at St. Matthews, and exchanged them for shorter skirts, shorts, and pretty much anything that dared show a little more skin. By the end of sophomore year, it was clear that she was considerably less religious; not that it really surprised or bothered Lily at all. Stella was always the one trying to get out of the regular church services at school and often failing to do her homework for religion class, it was questionable whether she even did believe in God at all with some of the comments she made, but she was always a good person to Lily, and as long as they both accepted each other for who they were, their relationship never failed. Junior year for Stella is when she started slipping a bit. Her grades weren’t doing so well, and by the time senior year started, just after she turned eighteen, she dropped out completely. Lily couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, what Stella’s parents thought of all that, but she tried not to dwell on it. She knew her parents would probably disown her if she did some of the stuff Stella did, but she wasn’t Stella, and even then, Stella always presented a good image of herself when either of their parents were around.

“Happy late birthday, by the way,” Stella said.

“Thanks,” it only occurred to Lily then that she hadn’t actually seen Stella since before her birthday about a week ago.

“How does it feel to be eighteen finally?”

“Not really any different than before…”

“‘Not really any different?'” Stella repeated, “All the things you can do now: buy lottery tickets, go to R-rated movies without your parents, buy tobacco… watch porn…”

“Ew!” Lily looked at her in disgust.

“What? People do it all the time.” Lily just shook her head again in the same sarcastic manner. “Hey, it’s Friday,” Stella added, “You wanna do something fun tonight?”

“I guess I could. Like what?”

“Just… something fun…”

“You don’t have anything special in mind?”

“Oh, I do, it’s just… a surprise. Call it a sort of birthday surprise from your best friend.”

“Would this ‘birthday surprise’ happen to involve doing something overly rebellious?” Lily cautiously asked.

“Girl, you gotta learn to be a bad girl once in a while.”

“Except if my parents-“

“We’re going to a movie.” Stella said firmly, “I’ll pick you up at 9pm. Just remember to wear a swim suit.”

“What? Why?” Lily asked.

“It’s a surprise, sweetie,” Stella said. She said no more as she parted ways at the intersection in the road, leaving Lily to ponder how Stella was planning to corrupt her.

—–

It was 8:30, and Lily was sitting in her room contemplating what she was going to wear for her little trip to the “Movie.” She figured Stella was probably serious about the swim suit thing, so she rummaged through her dresser and pulled out a couple to debate on. Her choices were a typical one-piece that was leftover from her time on the swim team at school before she decided she didn’t want to do it anymore, or a slightly more revealing two-piece bikini that she only ever wore when her family went to Florida. She settled on the bikini, mostly because she figured Stella would probably have some kind of dumb remark about being unwilling to show any skin if she saw the more athletic option. Where were they going to go swimming anyway? The only pool around was at the YMCA, which would definitely be closed. The lake çeşme escort was nearby, but no one ever swam in it because there was more algae and seaweed than water. She decided to just put the suit on and be done with it. With Stella, there was really no point to trying to decipher what was going on in her brain. She dressed herself in a pair of blue jeans and a sweatshirt and headed downstairs to wait for Stella.

“Hey Lily, where are you going?” Her mom asked as she was reaching for the doorknob.

“Stella and I are going to a movie, she’s picking me up any minute.”

“Alright, have fun, honey.”

Lily scooted out the door and waited on the porch for Stella. For a moment, she almost couldn’t believe she was able to push that lie out without alerting her mom, who always seemed to see though anybody’s bullshit. Maybe it was simply because her answer was vague enough, or that Stella’s personality was starting to rub off on her slightly. Either way, she was relieved to see Stella pull up in her little car, and get on their way before her mom decided to ask any more questions.

“Well, hello,” Stella said, “are you ready?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know where we’re going yet.”

“You’ll see.” Stella answered. It was the last thing either of them said as Stella drove to their mysterious destination.

After about a five minute drive, Stella parked the car on the side of the street and the two of them got out. Lily followed Stella down the street a bit before they turned to enter someone’s large back yard. Concerned about trespassing on someone’s property, Lily stopped.

“Where are you going?” She whispered to Stella. “This is someone’s house.”

“I know,” Stella answered, “The owner of this place has a literal jacuzzi on her patio, filled with mud. And I happen to know that she’s out of town for a few days.”

“Wait, what?” Lily asked again, unsure if she heard her right.

“Just come on.”

Lily hesitantly followed Stella, both girls hunched over as they crossed the yard and approached the patio. Stella hopped up the steps and grinned. Just as she said, there was indeed a large hot tub, one big enough for at least seven people, built into the patio, and sticking out above about two feet. And exactly as Stella said, and confirming what Lily thought she said, it was filled nearly to the brim with smooth, brown mud.

“There it is,” Stella said. Lily’s eyes hopped between her and the tub of mud in complete silence as Stella stripped out of her black tank top and short, denim skirt to reveal a lime green bikini. “You did wear a swim suit like I said, right?”

“I did… but for what?”

“Really?” Stella said with a bit of shock, “to take a mud bath, silly.”

Lily took a step back in shock, “What? No!”

“Why not? It will be fun.”

“Because its dirty, and this is someone’s house, we shouldn’t even be here.”

“I already told you, the owner is out of town for the whole weekend, it’s not like we’re going to get caught,” Stella assured her, “besides getting dirty was the whole point of this excursion.”

During the argument, Stella stepped forward to the side of the tub, sat on the edge, and swung her legs over to dip them in the mud.

“I really don’t think we should do this,” Lily said.

“Oh, come on,” Stella nagged, “you’re eighteen now, what better way to celebrate than by dropping your good girl image just for a night and getting in here with me?” Lily stared at her, unsure of what to do. “It’s really warm, tell me you wouldn’t enjoy spending the night in a hot tub.”

“Yeah, a hot tub full of literal mud,” Lily exclaimed.

“Just think of it getting closer to nature. Literally.”

“This is manmade…”

“C’mon, Lily, work with me here; its mud, it doesn’t get any more natural than that. Plus, it’s good for the skin; people pay hundreds of dollars for this sort of thing at a spa, and we’re here getting it for free.”

Lily slowly removed her shoes and reluctantly unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down. “Yeah, girl, come on,” Stella cheered. She reached for the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her dark red swim suit and nearly glowing white skin. “Oo-la-la…” Stella interjected.

“What does it feel like, really?” Lily asked.

“Honestly, like a vat of smooth, warm pudding.”

Lily followed Stella and sat on the edge of the pool, sticking her feet below the surface.

“Well? What do you think?” Stella asked.

“It’s interesting. It is really smooth.”

“Well come on then, lets ACTUALLY get in.” Stella pushed herself off the edge of the tub and let her feet hit the bottom. She sank down and the mud engulfed her body, stopping just below her belly button. Her face lit up as she felt the new sensations of the mud embracing her lower half, until she noticed that Lily hadn’t moved. “Hello, Earth to Lily, get in this bitch,” she insisted.

“I think I’m good right here for now.”

“Don’t make me come over there and pull you in,” Stella threatened. She waded halfway to the other side of the tub where Lily sat and then stopped in her tracks. “Oh, god, that feels so weird,” she said.

“What does?”

“Trying başakşehir escort to walk,” she said as she tried taking another step, “the mud just pulls against you and it just feels… nice in a way. She leaned forward and stuck her arms in front of her, grabbing the edge of the tub next to Lily to brace herself. Lily watched as Stella slowly began thrusting her hips back and forth in the thick, brown pool.

“What are you doing?” Lily asked.

“Humping the mud,” Stella said, very matter-of-factly.

Lily’s eyes grew a bit wider, a look somewhere between disgust and concern, “You mean like…”

“Yeah, like that.”

“Why?”

“Because the mud just presses up against you, and it feels good, and it just makes you want to,” Stella explained, “You’d understand if you were actually in here too and not just sitting on the edge.” Stella shimmies herself closer to Lily and gently creeps her hands up Lily’s legs, rubbing the mud into her clean, white skin as she does. “Come on, Lily, it’s not that bad. It’s fun.”

“What makes it so fun?” Lily asked, still hesitant to join her friend.

Stella’s voice suddenly became real soft and caring, “You’ll see when you get in.” She held a muddy had out, signaling for Lily to take it and join her, “Don’t you trust me?”

Lily let out a deep, mentally cleansing sigh, “Okay.” She took hold of the muddy hand extended to her and Stella wrapped her free arm around Lily’s back and pulled her into the smooth, thick clay. A quick yelp escaped Lily’s mouth as she plopped into the tub and began acclimating to the sensations.

“See? It is really so bad?” Stella asked.

“It feels warm.”

“It’s a hot tub, Lily, that’s kinda the point,” Stella reacted with a bit of sass. “Why don’t we just find ourselves a seat and relax for a few minutes,” She suggested, “Let it soak in, you know, like we’re actually at a spa.” The two girls felt around in the tub for a bit until they found seats for themselves.

The two girls remained seated in the tub for several minutes relaxing and absorbing warm caress of the mud.

“I guess this isn’t so bad,” Lily realized.

“I told you. It feels good.”

Stella, being the much more adventurous one, started getting a little curious. She pushed her hands through the clay until they reached her hips, and she pulled away the waistband of her bikini bottom. She gasped in pure delight as she did. The strangely erotic sensations of the thick mud pressing against her sex was nothing compared to how it felt pressing directly against her naked groin. Having passed the point of no return, she shifted around in her seat as slid her bottom off.

“Are you okay over there?” Lily asked.

“Oh, I’m much better now,” Stella answered. She lifted her hands out of the mud, bikini bottom in hand, and rung some of the mud out before setting it on the patio.

“Is that what I think it is?” Lily gasped.

“Yep.”

“Are you nuts?”

“Since I can confirm that the mud feels so much better when I don’t have anything on down there, no, I’m not crazy.” She plunged her hand back into the mud and began ever so slightly teasing her clit. “Mmmmmmm,” she moaned, as the mud worked its magic along with her fingers.

“Are you… touching yourself?” Lily asked.

“Heck yeah, it feels sooo good,” Stella confirmed, “You should try it. The mud just feels… Oooooo.”

“No thanks… I don’t… do that.”

“You mean to tell me that you have never masturbated before…?”

“Why would I? It’s sinful.”

A quick, loud laugh erupted from Stella. “Are you kidding me?” Stella said, “Just drop the innocent, Christian good girl shtick for one night. It’s literally just you, me, and the mud.”

“But…”

“But nothing. You’re an adult, explore yourself a little, or you’ll never know what you like.” Stella stood up and waded to the center of the tub. She reached out with both hands to pull Lily from her seat. “Come on, up.” She didn’t so much give Lily the option as much as she stuck her hands into the mud and forcibly pulled her up by the wrists.

“What are you doing?” Lily asked.

“Teaching you how good this can be if you just let yourself enjoy it.” Stella grabbed Lily by the waist and eased her back, and then forward, toward her, and repeated, just as she did to herself earlier. “How does that feel?”

“Weird…” Lily responded.

“Don’t focus on the weird, focus on the other feelings,” Stella said, “think about how warm it is,” she guided Lily’s hips forward and back again. “Think about thick and heavy it feels pressing against your body,” she moved Lily back and forth again. “Think about how smooth it feels, gushing between your legs,” Stella’s hands remained at Lily’s hips, but this time it was Lily performing the motions. “How does it feel?”

“Tingly,” Lily said.

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

“A good way,” Lily confirmed as she slowly thrust her hips back and forth again. “I don’t want it to stop…”

“It doesn’t have to,” Stella said. And you know what?” she added as Lily’s hips continued gyrating, “it can feel even better.” She carefully wedged her thumbs between Lily’s bikini bottom and her skin, “all you küçükçekmece escort have to do is let the mud flood you with its ecstasy,” she said as she pulled the bikini down her friends legs.

“Ohhhhhh…Oooooo,” Lily moaned as she felt the mud fill in and hug her sex directly, and sensually.

“See?”

“Why does it feel so good?” Lily asked between deep breaths.

“It’s call arousal, obviously it’s something you’ve never felt before.”

“It feels… wrong…” Lily didn’t know what to think. She knew deep down that she didn’t want to enjoy it, but at the same time, primal instict was taking over and she couldn’t help herself.

“No, it’s supposed to feel good, it does feel good, you’ve just been trained to believe it’s wrong.” Stella gently took hold of Lily’s hand and moved it toward her neglected pussy, “Just feel it, right there.” She let go of Lily’s hand, and was not surprised to see that she didn’t move it. Instead, she kept her hand over her sex and stepped back into her seat in the tub.

“I think I wanna just… feel myself for a bit…” she said. A few seconds after she sat down, she tossed the mixed wad of mud and fabric that was her bikini bottom over the edge of the tub like Stella did before her.

As Lily leaned back in her seat and explored her body for the first real time in her life, Stella waded through the tub for a bit, always thrusting her hips forward with each step. She made a few small circles in the tub before her eyes fixed on a white dial at the edge of the tub. “I wonder what this is for,” she said. She waded over and turned the knob about halfway.

Stella’s head snapped back and Lily nearly forgot about her arousal what bubbles started shooting up from the middle of the tub.

“What the hell?” Stella said.

“It’s bubbling…” Lily observed.

Stella inched her foot forward along the bottom of the tub until it came to a hole where the bubbles were coming from.

“I guess the dial controls some kind of air jet that makes it bubble in the middle.”

“What good would that do?” Lily asked, “all its doing is splashing around…”

“Well…” Stella contemplated, “I kinda have one idea.” She slowly stepped toward the bubbles, leaning back slightly to avoid being splashed in the face. As she got closer to the bubbles, she began feeling the turbulent jet below stirring the mud around her legs. “Oh!” she yelped as the bubbles began splashing in her face at bit. Just one more step, and she was directly above it. As the jet of bubbles rammed her between the legs, she let out a quick howl, almost like a wolf before her tone deepened into a low moan of primitive arousal. “Mmmmmmmmmhhh… Oh… Oooooo… Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked.

“Ab-abs-olutely n-nothing,” Stella stammered.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmmmmmmmhmmmmm… It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever felt.” Stella continued to hold her body over the jet as the sensations overtook her. Her legs trembled beneath her while she took long, deep gasps of air, doing everything in her power to scream with delight like she wanted so badly to do. The bubbling mud was working pure magic on her pussy. She was no stranger to exploring her sexuality, and all that came with it, masturbating plenty of times with different toys she discovered and even had sex a few times (if you could call dry humping the star running back of the school in the locker room after the game after everyone left for the night sex), but this was something much different. There was something almost divine about how hard the jet felt against her sex while also feeling so incredibly soft and caring. She emitted one last, long groan as the bubbles pushed her all the way to the edge. Only when she completely lost her sense of balance did she finally stumble back away. “Shit! That was awesome,” She said, “You have to try this, Lily.”

“Alright, I guess I can…” she said. She stepped closer to the bubbles, holding her hands out in front of her to avoid being splashed in the face, and found her spot over the jet. “Oh! Yeah, this does feel good.”

“Yeah it does.” As Stella was coming down from her orgasmic high, she found herself next to the dial at the edge of the tub again. Lily didn’t notice the devilish grin spreading across her face, but she would probably notice if she turned the dial up a bit more.

Just as she suspected, Lily’s eyes grew even bigger as the intensity of the bubbles increased. It was difficult to tell with how much the bubbles were splashing around, but it almost looked to Stella as if Lily was rubbing herself as the bubbles worked their magic. The longer she stood over the bubbles, the more she whimpered with pure sexual pleasure; feelings she had never truly been exposed to before. Stella waded over to her and placed her arms around Lily, appearing to come in for comfort, but more as an excuse to get closer to the bubbles again. “Oh… Oh… Oh…” Lily chanted as the bubbles continued to penetrate her. She was getting so worked up with arousal that Stella noticed her eyes begin to tear up slightly. As her arousal intensified further, Lily began losing all control of her body as she collapsed to her knees. Stella knelt down with her to keep her from falling. The mud was now up to their necks, and the bubbles were all splashing in their faces, but they didn’t care; Stella was only focused on giving her friend the time of her life, and Lily’s brain wasn’t registering anything but pleasure, especially since being on her knees meant that she was now that much closer to the source of the bubbles, and in turn, it was that much more intense.

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

One year. Twelve months. 365 days. No matter how you break it down, it had been a long time for Dan. He wondered if it had been a long time for Cindy. He wondered what time she would be in tomorrow. Would she be in tomorrow? She said it was her “goal” to be back in 365 days.

What does goal mean? Is that a hard number? Dan knew he didn’t have the answers and he knew Cindy had all the power, shit she had always had all the power in the relationship. He hadn’t always realized that, but he did now.

Gail looked up from sucking Dan’s cock and said, “Hey fucker, are you even paying attention? I’m working down here.”

“Yeah babe I’m sorry,” Dan answered.

“It was your idea to meet tonight. I was surprised when you called, I figured you’d be home polishing your shrine to your long-lost wife.” Gail teased.

“Suck my cock and shut up bitch,” Dan said.

“There’s the man I’m looking for.” Gail said engulfing his cock down her throat.

Before long Dan began to grunt, “Yeah baby swallow it, drink my cum.”

Cindy was leaned over a trash can behind a Chinese restaurant. An older black man was fucking her asshole.

“Yeah baby. you like my ass baby?” Cindy moaned.

“Fuck yeah, I ain’t ever fucked no pregnant bitch in her ass,” The old man said.

“I love it baby, I love getting fucked in my loose asshole,” Cindy said.

“I’m cumming baby girl,” The old man said as he shot several spurts of cum into Cindy’s asshole. As he pulled out of her asshole the cum poured out on the dirty alley.

Cindy raised up off the trash can, she liked the trash can because her distended belly fit nicely inside, and she still had a little support. She also thought it was somewhat appropriate since her life and the life of her unborn child were in the trash now.

As Cindy stood up and smiled at the older black man, she felt the milk run out of her nipples and roll down the underside of her swollen tits.

The older man with obvious sincere concern asked Cindy, “you getting close to having that baby?”

“Fuck I hope so,” Cindy said

Cindy wandered back up the alley and found Sky sitting on a small wall next to the strip. Things had changed for the pair recently. Tyrone and the boys had been arrested delivering a load and since they were all felons and of course had their guns with them. They weren’t going to get out anytime soon.

This meant the girls were out on their own. Life was rougher for an independent hooker out on the street. They had to move down several blocks as a new pimp had come in with his own hoes and he didn’t need or want Tyrone’s hoes.

This meant Cindy and Sky had to work on the far end of the strip and the johns were cheaper, dirtier and fewer and farther between. Pearl had gotten out of the life and the other hoes never liked Cindy and Sky anyway.

The girls got a motel room when they could, sometimes they slept down at the park or in an alleyway. They both missed Tyrone’s big black cock and his higher quality crystal meth. Nowadays they smoked a cheaper meth that made them itch and they had to increase their doses just to keep the same high.

Cindy sat down on the half wall next to Sky, leaned in and gave her a long sensuous kiss. Both girls reeked, they hadn’t got a motel room in over a week and the last one they had didn’t have hot water.

It didn’t matter to either girl. Sky stood up in front of Cindy and flipped up her half shirt and took her swollen tits in her hands. She stuck Cindy’s engorged nipple in her mouth and began to suck. Her mouth filled with milk and she swallowed greedily.

Every other mouthful she would raise up and spit share with Cindy. Cindy would open her mouth and Sky would spit the milk into her open mouth and then follow with a long tongue kiss.

Soon Sky had Cindy’s tits empty. “I think we’re through all the colostrum slut, we’re just down to the milk now.”

“Awesome,” Cindy said.

“Probably should have saved that for the baby,” Sky said.

“Fuck that,” Cindy spat.

“Why do you hate this baby so much, what did it do to you?” Sky asked.

“I don’t hate the baby, well yeah I do, but it doesn’t matter.” Cindy tried to explain.

“I know your gutter trash, whatever,” Sky said.

“Are we going to have this fight right now?” Cindy asked hopping off the wall and covering up her deflated tits.

“And before you say it, for the fourth time this week, sure it’s our baby, that’s what you want to hear isn’t it.?” Cindy said angrily.

“Fuck you bitch,” Sky said.

“Not if you keep up with that attitude,” Cindy teased.

Sky wasn’t in the mood to be teased, their last load of dope was absolute shit and she was on edge.

Sky reached out and took Cindy’s hand interlacing her fingers with Cindy’s and said, “It’s just, I thought we loved each other.”

“Cunt don’t start that lovey-dovey shit,” Cindy said.

“I love you, you know I do, but what are we gonna do? Set up house in some flop house nearby? You me and little Sky. We’d take turns tricking and playing mommy.” Cindy said her voice raising tuzla escort as she said it.

“I don’t know honey.” Sky said as tears started to run down her face.

Cindy pulled back up her half shirt and turned and pointed to some cursive script on her rib cage. “What’s that say bitch?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Sky said.

Cindy grabbed Sky by the belt loops on her daisy dukes and then pulled up her tank top and pointed to the same script on Sky’s rib cage and asked, “what’s yours say?”

“Sometimes I hate you.” Sky said flatly.

Cindy grabbed Sky by the chin and looked into her eyes and said, “They say whores for life, not mommies for life.”

“Well, you old fucking bag, since you’re 12-years-older than me, maybe I’m worried my whore life is going to be a lot longer than yours.”

Cindy looked at Sky with a serious face asking, “when did you figure that out?”

“Sometimes you’re a stupid cunt, the first day, when I snooped and found your purple dildo.” Sky explained.

Cindy broke out in a toothy grin. “I remember you in that shitty trailer. I remember you were the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid eyes on.”

“I remember you trying to do yoga while you were fucking stoned.” Sky said giggling.

“Fuck I love you baby” Cindy said.

“I love you too mommy.” Sky teased.

“That was a long time ago wasn’t it?” Cindy asked.

Sky looked down at the date on her phone and said, “Damn baby, that was pretty much exactly a year ago give or take a day.”

Cindy looked at Sky wide-eyed and exclaimed, “What!”

“I said it’s pretty much exactly a year since you came home with Sunny, why?” Sky asked.

“Um, no reason.” Cindy said.

“Bitch these dumb mother fuckers will believe your lies when you tell ’em they got a big cock, I on the other hand know when you’re lying to me.” Sky said.

Cindy gave Sky a long kiss and then said, “Babe, it’s a long story and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Fine, keep shit from me, it’s almost like I’m your husband or something.” Sky said.

Cindy just looked at her flatly and finally said “Come on whore I need to shit, you gotta hold me up.”

Cindy and Sky walked over, and both squatted behind a dumpster. Since they had lost their steady room, they had figured out a system for going to the bathroom in their ‘fuck me’ pumps.

They each would squat and then hold each other’s hands with their knees pinned against each other and lean back slightly. Soon they both started to piss out a rank liquid and then Cindy began to shit down on the dirty pavement.

“Jesus you stink whore,” Sky said.

“Sorry babe,” Cindy said finishing up.

“How’s the baby?” Sky asked.

“Well, the little fucker is kicking the shit out of me currently, but can we not talk about it?” Cindy said.

“Fine.” Sky said trying to catch up with Cindy who was walking back towards the street.

Suddenly Cindy took off running in her tall heels towards the street with Sky trying to catch up yelling, “wait baby, wait.”

Sky caught up to Cindy who was leaning in a familiar blue Chevy tongue kissing Lindsey.

“Look who came to see us baby.” Cindy said.

“Hey guys” Sky said with some trepidation.

Sky was remembering their last adventure with Hank and Lindsey and the fact that Cindy’s tits were basically destroyed for a month. Cindy woke up in tears for a week straight afterward.

“Do I get a kiss Sky?” Lindsey asked.

Sky leaned into the Chevy and gave Lindsey a deep tongue kiss, she then began to cough a little and asked, “Jesus what’s that smell?”

Lindsey began to laugh and said, “Well, we wanted to be really ripe for our favorite whore, so we haven’t washed for a whole fucking month.”

“I’ve got news, you two don’t smell like a rose garden.” Lindsey said.

“Yeah, we’ve kinda fallen on hard times.” Sky said.

“Which is how we like ’em.” Cindy said.

Sky looked at Cindy and shook her head in disbelief saying, “you truly worry me bitch.”

“No reason to be worried yet.” Lindsey said with an evil grin, “Wait until you see what I’m going to do to her, that should worry you.”

“I was worried as soon as you pulled up.” Sky said.

“Enough of this shit, are we gonna party or not?” Cindy asked.

“$1000 bucks for you both and all the Ice you can handle” Lindsey said.

“Fuck you, $1500 and you pay for the room.” Cindy said.

“$1200, the Ice and you come home with us. When we’re done you can use our obviously rarely used shower to clean up.” Lindsey said.

“Deal.” Cindy said climbing into the Chevy and pulling Sky in behind her.

It was about a 30-minute drive to Hank and Lindsey’s house. Lindsey gave the girls her rig and several packages of ice that the girls shot up.

While they rode in the back-seat Sky tried to reason with Cindy under her breath saying, “you need to be careful, they really hurt you last time.”

Lindsey obviously heard Sky because she said, “bitch if I remember right you beat pendik escort her tits with a bible.”

Cindy smiled wildly at Sky in a meth fueled grin and said, “I remember that, will you beat me again baby? I bet my tits will shoot milk across the room.”

“We’ll see baby,” Sky said.

“Please, Please, please baby, I need you to fucking hurt me.” Cindy said.

“How’s your asshole?” Lindsey asked changing the subject.

Cindy smiled wild eyed at Lindsey and said, “see for yourself,” She then turned around and pulled up her skirt baring her naked ass and pushed it between the seats. She reached around her hips and dug her finger tips into her asshole and pulled while she pushed down her stomach muscles causing her asshole to prolapse out a couple of inches.

“Look at you bitch,” Lindsey said.

Sky leaned over and took Cindy’s face in her hands and said “I oughta hate you for dragging me into this life, but I can’t not love you” giving her a long French kiss.

Lindsey stuck the filter end of a lit cigarette into Cindy’s prolapsed asshole and then took a quick picture with her cell phone.

“Fucking beautiful,” Lindsey said.

“OK, put up your asshole, we’re getting into traffic.” Hank said.

“This whole car smells like your asshole by the way.” Sky said kissing Cindy.

“Probably smells better than it did.” Cindy said giggling.

Sky giggled and gave her another kiss and said, “probably.”

Once they arrived at Hank’s and Lindsey’s Cindy was shocked to notice it was very similar to her and Dan’s house. An upper middle-class house in a desirable neighborhood with a neighborhood park and pool.

Once they got inside Lindsey told the girls to strip. The girls took off their clothes and Lindsey folded them and put them on the couch.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Hank said and the girls followed the couple back to their large master bedroom.

Sky immediately kneeled down in front of Hank and took his long 12-inch thin cock into her mouth.

“Yeah suck his dick baby,” Cindy said as she began rubbing Lindsey’s fat saggy udders emblazoned with upside down crosses.

“Suck ’em” Lindsey said taking off her shirt and grabbing Cindy by the back of her head.

Cindy alternated sucking on Lindsey’s nipples while squeezing the saggy tits. Lindsey’s body odor was strong, and Cindy could taste dirt and sweat.

“Fuuuucccck, you taste like shit,” Cindy said.

Lindsey began pushing Cindy’s head down towards her cunt and said, “Just you wait baby,”

Cindy got down to Lindsey’s moist cunt and the aroma was powerful.

“Jesus your cunt…” Cindy said.

Laughing and smiling down at Cindy Lindsey said, “I know cunt, I work for a living, I had to take two weeks’ vacation just to make sure I could stay ripe for you.””How thoughtful” Sky said between loud slurps on Hank’s prick.

“Stay in your lane over there.” Cindy said laughing.

“This cock is ripe too.” Sky said.

“It should be, I made him fuck me in the ass as much as he could the last couple of weeks.” Lindsey said.

Lindsey grabbed Cindy’s head and pushed it into her pussy and began to grind. “Yeah, eat me bitch.”

“Lay back baby,” Cindy said, pushing Lindsey back onto the bed.

Lindsey laid down and pulled her knees up and spread them, opening up her cunt and asshole.

Lindsey began to give Lindsey’s pussy, ass and even her taint a tongue bath as Lindsey reached under and spread her flabby ass cheeks.

“Oh yeah look at that beautiful asshole.” Cindy said as she began to tongue fuck Lindsey’s dirty asshole.

“Uuuuggghhh, yeah, eat my ass you dirty fucking whore,” Lindsey said.

After working on Lindsey’s asshole several minutes Cindy worked back up to her clit and began licking, sucking and biting it.

Lindsey began to cum, leaking down into Cindy’s mouth and yelling “fuck yeah eat my cum bitch.”

Cindy raised her face from Lindsey’s leaking cunt and smiled at her. They both turned and watched as Hank began to yell, “Oh fuck, swallow my cum baby.”

“That’s it baby, you’re such a good cock sucker,” Cindy told Sky lovingly as she watched Hank shoot off into her mouth.

Just as Cindy said it, she felt the warm spray and had enough experience to know she was being pissed on. She turned and tried to take as much of the liquid in her mouth.

“Fucking drink my piss, God you are the dirtiest whore I’ve ever found.” Lindsey said.

Cindy made a display of having a mouthful and swallowing it down saying, “you know I’m the dirtiest.”

Everyone got up and lit a cigarette. Lindsey strapped on her dildo smirking at Cindy as she slid it on. She walked over to Cindy and watched as Cindy expertly loaded a syringe and took a large dose of crystal meth.

Sky walked over and began to suck on Lindsey’s plastic cock. “Yeah suck on her cock baby,” Cindy said beginning to rub her pussy.

After slobbering on the dildo for several minutes Sky turned around and as Cindy bent over, she began to loudly maltepe escort slobber and suck on Cindy’s asshole.

“Eat that dirty cunt’s asshole” Lindsey coached Sky.

“Fuck yeah baby, eat my dirty ass.” Cindy said.

“Uuuugggghhhhh, I love you’re dirty ass.” Sky said, she then stood up, turned to Lindsey and said, “destroy the cunt.”

Lindsey stepped up and jammed her large black cock into Sky’s asshole.

“Oooohhhhhhh, fuuuucccckkkkk.” Cindy moaned.

“Jesus what a wonderful asshole.” Lindsey said giggling, “this fucking thing is so much looser than when we started baby.”

Cindy turned and looked at Lindsey, “thanks to you baby.”

“Don’t let her kid you babe, she’d take every dick in her ass if she could.” Sky said.

Lindsey started fucking Cindy’s asshole as hard as she could. “You’re an ass fucking slut.”

“Oh Jesus” Cindy said reaching down and grabbing her belly.

“You OK?” Sky asked, watching the lewd lesbian anal sex while she was mounted on Hank’s cock in the reverse cowgirl position.

“I’m good, don’t you fucking stop bitch.” Cindy ordered Lindsey.

“You can have that fucking kid right here, I’m not stopping until I’m done with this asshole.” Lindsey said.

“Come here bitch.” Lindsey said looking at Sky.

Sky climbed off Hank’s hard dick and came over as Lindsey unhooked herself from the dildo still balls deep in Cindy’s asshole. She handed Sky another harness and indicated for her to begin fucking Cindy.

Cindy turned around with a red face and sweat pouring down it and said, “Fuck me baby, fuck me up.”

Sky hooked up her harness and began fucking Cindy’s asshole.

“Harder, harder, Jesus, yessss.” Cindy said starting to cum down her legs.

Lindsey walked around and grabbed Cindy by the hair and pulled her head up. She roughly grabbed Cindy’s leaking tits and squeezed as hard as she could, spraying titty milk out onto her legs.

“Fuuuucccck meeee.” Cindy said and began to babble incoherently.

Lindsey reached back and grabbed a large rubber band from a package on the night stand and encircled Cindy’s still engorged tit and snapped the rubber band down around it.

“OH Fuck!” Cindy yelled.

“You OK?” Sky asked for the second time in a few minutes.

“She’s fine, just gonna destroy these luscious tits” Lindsey said.

“Leave something for the baby to eat off of?” Sky asked.

Lindsey began her evil laugh and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Fuck that, destroy me bitch.” Cindy said.

“Cindy God Damn it.” Sky said while still fucking her asshole.

Cindy looked back and her eyes were big as saucers and in a wild drug induced fury, she said “C’mon you weak assed bitch, stop loving me and give me what I want.”

Sky looked at Cindy and angrily jerked the plastic cock completely out of her asshole and said “Fuck you, I hate you so much for what you’ve done to us, I’m going to fucking ruin your asshole tonight and when you come crying to me in the morning I’m going to tell you to go to Hell you devil bitch.”

Sky then balled up her fist and slammed it into Cindy’s asshole and jerked it right back out.

“Uuuugggghhhh yeeeessss, fist my fuuuucking assssss baby.” Cindy said.

“Fuck you, you dirty gutter tramp, I fucking hate you.” Sky said slamming her fist in and out of Cindy’s asshole.

“Come here Hank, God damnit I need a man’s fucking fist.” Sky said.

Hank got off the bed and walked over and knelt down and began to punch fuck Cindy’s gaping asshole.

Meanwhile Lindsey had numerous rubber bands on each of Cindy’s tits that were turning a luscious shade of purple. She raised Cindy’s face up and Cindy looked up at her and smiled as tears and snot ran down her face.

Lindsey stood back and admired the swollen purple tits. She grabbed her glass pipe and shared several hits of meth with Cindy. She then produced a flimsy plastic ruler and began beating Cindy’s tits.

“Harder, Harder, ruin me.” Cindy begged as Lindsey continued to pound away at the purple tits and Hank punch fucked her distended gaping asshole.

After every few punches as Cindy’s asshole would prolapse out, Sky leaned in and sucked it like a large cock, occasionally biting down on it causing Cindy to squeal.

The ruler had caused the tops of Cindy’s tits to bleed from the rough abrasions. Lindsey dropped the ruler and grabbed a small wooden dowel about two feet in length and began to slam it down on the top of Cindy’s tits.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Cindy’s tits splashed blood from their tops, and milk out of her nipples.

“Oh my God yes, don’t stop.” Cindy begged crying uncontrollably.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you tonight whore.” Lindsey yelled.

Just then Cindy felt her pissy cum literally splash down onto her feet and both she and Sky at the same time said “Jesus Christ.”

Breathing heavy, Cindy asked breathlessly “Did I just come again?”

Sky looked up thru Cindy’s spread legs at Lindsey and they both knew.

“No babe, I think your water just broke.” Lindsey said.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Sky agreed.

Hank pulled his fist out of Cindy’s asshole and looked at the girls and said, “Lindsey, what do we need to do?”

“Let’s get her on the edge of the bed.” Lindsey said.

“Wait a fucking minute”, Sky said starting to tear up. “Don’t we need to get her to a hospital?”

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

Sabrina twirled her pen in one hand and gazed absent-mindedly out of the window. These meetings got so dull, so quickly, she thought, particularly those held on a Friday afternoon. Nobody wants to be here. She suppressed a yawn, and took a long sip of her coffee, hoping it would give her a jolt of energy.

Wearing a pair of bright orange high-heeled slingbacks, she pushed her toes right to the bottom of her shoes, lifting her heels as she did so. There was a barely audible ‘click’ as her heels moved away from the cushioned soles of her expensive shoes.

With the toe of her left shoe, she rubbed the exposed heel of her right foot, before repeating with the other foot. It tickled slightly. As she then moved her feet together so she could rub her bare heels against one another, she started to swing slowly from side to side on her chair.

That’s when she noticed that the eyes of the man next to her weren’t fixed on the screen on which an executive was explaining a new policy. He was looking down, furtively – or at least trying to be furtive – watching this little foot tease.

I’ll give him a foot tease, Sabrina mused. Angling her legs and feet a little closer towards him, she lifted her left foot and started playfully stroking her right calf with her stiletto heel, before continuing down until she was softly stroking her heel and sole with its point.

She heard a shuffling from the seat beside her. She knew he’d carried on looking at her feet. Was he shuffling because he was getting aroused? Or just to try to avert his gaze and look at something else lest it became too obvious?

As the meeting ended, she fished out a business card and quickly scribbled on it “Finance Dept. Manager’s Office. 4.30” before handing it to her new admirer and moving quickly out of the room.

Sabrina had told him to come by at that time because she knew nobody else would be about. She allowed her finance team an early finish on Friday, aware that nothing of importance gets done in the back end of the week. She usually hung on for an hour or so to handle any incoming queries and tidy up any paperwork.

Knock, knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened. It was him. The same guy who’d been ogling her feet earlier. His shaggy black hair bounced around his head as he leaned around.

“Come in,” she said, leaning back on one side of her chair and throwing her long legs over the end of the armrest on the other side.

Leaning back, she held one leg up straight, waggling her foot in a circular motion. “Caught you looking at these earlier,” she told him.

He smiled uncomfortably. “Suppose so,” he mumbled. “Not much else to look at, was there?”

She smiled back. “I notice these things,” she added. “So, you like feet, huh?”

“Yes.”

Sabrina wasn’t getting much out of him but pressed on göztepe escort regardless. She was, after all, part of the senior management team so was used to people being cautious and reserved with her.

“So, would you say you have a foot fetish?”

“Yes.”

Perfect, she thought. “Good,” she purred, smiling wickedly.

Sabrina did not fit the stereotype of a boring, stuffy accountant with nothing but a head for figures. Far from it, in fact. She was sexually adventurous and up for trying pretty much anything. Just two nights ago she’d tried anal sex with her husband, Nigel, for the first time – and absolutely loved it.

Earlier in the month, she’d hooked up with an ex-colleague to enjoy her first lesbian experience while on a business away-day. That had been great fun, too – exhausting, as the orgasms kept coming – but fun.

Although married, both Sabrina and Nigel had high sex drives and had agreed that they could each indulge themselves with others, particularly as both often worked away from home. The deal was that they were open about who they were seeing, and penetrative sex was reserved for their own sexy time.

She had always been amused by how she could gain the attention of men by suggestively wiggling her feet or showing off a bit of heel, maybe even some sole, while wearing a sexy pair of shoes.

She enjoyed it when her husband Nigel sucked her toes while she lay on her back being pounded by his big dick, usually while he squeezed her tits at the same time. Not that her colleague was getting anywhere near her toes today, though.

“Okay, young man. I’ve got a challenge for you.” She smiled at the twentysomething who stood before her, nervously clasping and unclasping his hands. Let’s see how much of a foot fetish he really has, she thought.

“I’m going to sit here,” she said, pointing at her luxury office chair. “Do whatever you want to get yourself off…but I’m not taking off my shoes!”

“Okay,” he said. Challenge accepted.

She hadn’t even asked her colleague’s name but that suited Sabrina. She didn’t need to get too emotionally involved. As he positioned himself at her feet, she closed her eyes, murmuring her approval as he ran his fingers down her calves, jamming one under each of her soles.

“Are you sure nobody will come in?”

“Pretty sure. Everyone in the department’s gone home. If they do, just scrabble around by my computer, and pretend you’re fixing something if anyone sees you. Please just relax.” Sabrina smiled at him, doing her best to reassure him that nothing bad was going to come of this liaison.

He looked up at her as she flicked her long strawberry blonde hair back with one hand. “Okay,” he murmured, taking hold of her feet again.

Sabrina could sense he çorlu escort wasn’t quite sure of his next move. “Do you want me to sit in a different way?” she asked.

“No, this is fine,” he replied, having worked out an angle at which he could park himself and reach up with his head to get close enough to her heels to lick them. As he did so, Sabrina shuddered.

“I like that,” she told him, in her most reassuring voice. She was half-lying. It was alright, but on its own it wasn’t doing that much for her. While she loved the feeling of having someone at her feet, worshipping the only part of her body she was allowing him access to, it wasn’t yet turning her on.

“Yes,” she continued. “Keep licking my silky-smooth heels.” She loved to talk dirty and could think of nothing worse than quiet or silent sex. Her colleague had his mouth wrapped around the back of her foot, so it was down to her to keep talking.

“Suck on that heel!” She’d noticed the young man was fiddling with his zip and liberating his cock from his trousers. “Yes! Get your cock out! Do my feet make you hard?”

He nodded, eyes closed as he stroked his dick with one hand and sucked her heel, just as she’d ordered.

Sabrina giggled. She’d just copped a glance at what he was holding: barely three inches of pasty white erect cock. “Oh dear,” she cooed. “You weren’t blessed in that department, were you?”

There was no reply. He just kept on licking and massaging her heels. I wonder what it’s like being fucked by a dick that small, she thought. She wasn’t interested in finding out though, but it made her feel thankful for the enjoyment her husband’s big prick gave her on a regular basis.

She reached for her phone, opening a gallery of raunchy photos that she had taken of Nigel’s dick. There it was, that most magnificent fucksword – long, thick, and smooth. How she longed for it to be inside her right now!

Just the sight of it had her tingling and she reached down with one hand to finger herself, allowing herself a few minutes to fantasise about what Nigel would do to her when they next got down to business.

“Hey! Come here!” Flustered, he stood up and ambled over to her, trousers by his knees with his little cock poking out at her. She turned the phone so he could see the picture. “That’s the sort of dick I get on a regular basis.”

As she spoke, she started rubbing his cock rhythmically. “But as this is all I have now, it’ll have to do,” she sighed. “Do you like how that feels, my hand working your dick?” She smiled again as he nodded his approval.

She continued her near-constant stream of commentary, speaking slowly, carefully enunciating each word, as he returned his tongue to her heel and carried on licking while she wanked. “Only men with big ümraniye escort dicks get to suck my toes. Bet you wish you could suck them, don’t you? Bet you’re fantasising about how good my feet would taste, huh?”

She remembered she’d taken a picture of her feet following a recent pedicure. They showed off her shapely toes, freshly painted with bright red nail polish. She held her phone close to his face so he could see. “But you can’t have them. My heels and a hand job are all you get, young man!”

Sabrina was getting bored of rubbing his dick but was also pretty sure he would come before too long in any case. “I think you can fuck my heels now. Your little dick should fit beautifully between my heels and my shoes.”

She stood up, leaned forward over her desk, and lifted one leg, extending it out to her right and balancing it on the corner of her desk, stretching her pussy and allowing her colleague plenty of room to kneel behind her. “Jam your cock in there,” she purred. “That’s it,” she exclaimed as she felt his dick settling underneath her heel, placing a couple of fingers inside her pussy.

“Now, you are going to come for me, aren’t you?” It seemed as if to him, that meant he had to come right at that moment as without warning, he started thrusting backwards and forwards. “Oh! Yeah, fuck my heels. Fuck ’em good!” she squealed.

She could feel the tip of his cock touching the sole of her foot. It was a pleasant sensation, one heightened as she continued to masturbate while looking flicking through the pictures and occasional video of her husband’s dick on her phone.

This was something new – remote cuckolding perhaps, she thought. But how good would it to be to have somebody else worship her feet while her husband boned her senseless? I wonder if this chap would be up for that. The thought of it was turning her on more and more as her colleague’s dick continued to rub against her foot.

Before long, the tell-tale sign that he was about to blow his load arrived; Sabrina felt his grip on her calves tighten and he could hear his breathing quicken. “Ooh,” she groaned, “Spunk for me!” He’d taken his humiliation rather well, she thought. She was impressed that he’d carried on performing despite her comments about his limited assets and really was enjoying her feet.

“Yeah, is it coming? You ready?”

“Yes,” he gasped, and with another few thrusts, he was done. Sabrina felt his grip loosen and his dick disappear from underneath her heel, replaced by warm, sticky cum. Flinching as it touched the bottom of her foot, she put her phone down and pulled her knickers up.

“Very good,” she said. “Mission accomplished. I’m impressed. I knew you liked feet, but I wasn’t sure you liked them that much.”

“Well, thanks,” he offered. “I guess I’d best be going.”

Sabrina handed him a tissue with which to tidy himself up before sending him on his way. “See you,” she added as he went to open the door. As he turned back to reciprocate, she drew her cum-glazed foot out of her shoe and extended it over her desk, pointing her foot at him and wiggling her toes suggestively.

One last little tease to say goodbye.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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I woke up with a huge smile on my face today. Yesterday was wild. I couldn’t believe what I had accomplished in just 1 day. To recap, I rubbed Josh’s cock under the table in front of the entire class without anyone ever noticing, giving him blue balls till the end of class. Then, Eddie unexpectedly fingered me in his car to a squirting orgasm after jerking himself off for me. Not to mention that i was rubbing his balls smoothly as he stroked his cock. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I also sucked Josh’s dick. 2 guys in one day.

I woke up feeling powerful, sexy, and confident. Eddie and Josh were my sexual partners, and Bryan was my little cuckhold. Poor Bryan. He thought 1 day of blue balls was bad, be prepared for 2 days of blue balls. His balls deserve to be alone for a few days. I decide when to suck his dick. I decide when he cums.

My cuckhold boyfriend picked me up in the morning as usual to drive me to school. He was mad at me because I didn’t suck his dick last night. I mean, he didn’t actually say that but I can tell. I always sucked his dick. I always drained the cum out of his balls. Not this time. This time, I do what I want to do. And what I want to do is cuckhold him to the point where his balls swell. The thought of giving my boyfriend blue balls was such a turn on for me. I’m not sure why.

He dropped me off and drove away. We didn’t say one word to each other the whole trip. That’s how grumpy he was. I didn’t care. I was gonna suck Josh’s dick today for the 2nd time while my boyfriend rubs one off in the bathroom. I wonder how today is going to turn out with Eddie. Yesterday was unexpected. I didn’t expect him to finger me in the car, but it happened. I didn’t expect to rub his balls while he jerked off to me, maltepe escort but it happened. I wonder what’s going to happen today. Maybe I’ll be a good girl and jerk him off on the way home. Maybe I’ll even get naked just for him. He deserves it. After all, he is my driver.

So that’s exactly what happened after Culinary class. I got in Eddie’s car and started the conversation about that moment we had yesterday. It went a little something like this.

“Hey, so um… I’m sorry about squirting all over your front seat yesterday. Hopefully you’re not too mad at me.”

“Mad? Yesterday was so fucking hot!! I fingered you. You rubbed my balls as I jerked off to you. How could I be mad?” Said Eddie.

“Hehe. I don’t know. It was quite a mess. You had to clean it up.”

“It was worth it. What made you want to start fingering yourself?”

“I was wet.”

“I know that, but what turned you on exactly? What got you in the mood?”

“I was thinking about something.”

“About what?”

“You and Josh are friends, right?”

“Yeah. We go way back. He’s like my best friend.”

“Well, I gave him a cock rub yesterday during class.”

“Haha. Holy shit! So, I guess you were thinking about it and Josh’s cock is what made your pussy wet, right?”

“Yeah.” I said, embarrassed.

“Haha. Holy shit. But wait, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I do but he doesn’t really satisfy me anymore. I need a man’s dick. A dick like yours.”

That’s when I reached down with my hand and squeezed his cock. He just looked down at my hand with a smile on his face as I kept rubbing his cock through his jeans. I could feel his cock getting harder and harder with each manavgat escort tug.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Said Eddie.

“I know. This is what my boyfriend gets for letting another man give me a ride home.”

Then, I unbuttoned his pants, slid down his fly very slowly. I reached under his boxers and pulled out his cock. I started stroking his cock nice and slowly. Up and down, up and down, up and down, slowly, warming him up. Then, with my free hand, I caressed his balls very gently like a good girl. He was so hard. He couldn’t say a word from the pleasure he was experiencing. This was all while we were stuck in traffic, as usual.

“Can I touch your boobs?”

“Of course. Just please, be gentle. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Of course.” Eddie said.

Then, very gracefully and very gently he grabbed my boob with his free hand. First my left, then my right, just feeling them up, groping them. I love having my boobs felt up. Then, I had a brilliant idea. He’s seen my pussy, but he’s never seen my boobs. Maybe I can change that. So I said, “Hold on.”

I stopped stroking his cock and removed my pants first. Sliding my jeans completely off. Then, I slid off my thong exposing my beautiful shaven pussy. Eddie was stroking his cock as I was taking off my clothes for him. The only thing left was my top. So I removed my shirt, and removed my bra exposing my perfectly beautiful and natural boobs.

“Oh my God.” Said Eddie as he saw my boobs for the first time. “These are just absolutely perfect.” Eddie said as he felt them up with his hand. I was now completely naked, exposed for my driver. Normally, only my boyfriend would have this privilege, but not şişli escort anymore.

I went back to stroking his cock. Slowly, up and down, up and down, up and down as he felt up my boobs. Then, I figure, what the hell, minus well. I held his cock perfectly still and began to suck his dick. Moving my head slowly up and down his shaft. Up and down, up and down, up and down. It was so slippery, I had no problem moving my head up and down his shaft. The moisture of my tongue, the hardness of his cock just made it so much easier. Up and down, up and down, up and down as we were moving in slow traffic with tinted windows. This was his gift for being so good to me. For having such a wonderful cock.

I lifted my head after about 10 minutes of sucking his dick. He only lasted 10 minutes because I allowed it. I took my time sucking his dick. I was slow and methodical. Trust me, had I would of went full force, I would’ve made him cum in about 3 minutes. My pussy was so wet. What you didn’t know was that, for the 10 minutes I was sucking his dick, the AC was hitting my pussy. The cool air blowing up my pussy was making me so wet because I was very well aware that I was completely naked. So my voice literally begged Eddie for a favor.

“Eddie, can you finger my pussy while I jerk you off?”

“Yes.”

So there we were. Eddie was massaging my pussy and I was stroking his cock. He was so hard, I was so wet. We kept going. Then, I heard him say, “I’m gonna cum.”

I stroked him harder. Harder. Harder! HARDER!! I was milking his cock as fast as I could. As HARD as I could. It didn’t take long. BOOM! Cum blasted right out of his dick. I let him calm down and then it was my turn. He started to finger me, putting 2 fingers in and out of my pussy. Really fucking fast. I heard myself, “Oh my God! Oh my God!!! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna fucking cum!!!!!” I squirted so fucking hard as I screamed, “Oh shit!!!!! Oh fuck!!”

We made it home, said our goodbyes and that was it. My boyfriend obviously wasn’t home yet. So I called Josh to come pick me up for my next slutty adventure. 😉

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

The Western Avenue Fertility Clinic:

PT 1: THE INTERN

Moving around the examination room naked to keep from shivering, I studied the anatomical illustrations on the wall. “Ms Warbler,” Nurse Rhonda Chafer, a tall, broad shouldered woman in scrubs filled the doorway, “Doctor, will be with you presently.” When I pointed to the bundle of clothes in her hands, she assured me, “your clothes will be returned at the end of your tour of the facility.”

Clothes removed for a perfunctory examination by the nurse, I now awaited Dr Velour, the operator of a fertility clinic. I had applied for an internship to complete coursework for my degree in Industrial Psychology.

The hard – boiled female nurse arms cradling the bundle of my underwear, pull-over sweater, jeans and shoes apologized for leaving me, “in an unclothed condition.” She took a breath. “Ms Warbler, unfortunately, we’re short on those disposable hospital gowns at the moment. They’re reserved for patients. Try to make yourself,” she paused with as smirk, “as comfortable as possible.”

I chuckled, “I was sent here as a prospective intern for my college research paper in Industrial Psychology and end up politely plucked of my plumage and palpitating,” I made light of my situation.

Once Nurse Chafer left the room, I studied the images on the wall which depicted a naked blond woman, smiling as she rubbed her belly through various stages of pregnancy designed to demonstrate the expanding belly and burgeoning breasts.

Instinctively, I turned around. A short woman youngish for a doctor, Eda Velour, smiling pleasantly, arms crossed over her lab coat, stood silently by observing me. “That’s what we do here. We make women who can’t or won’t manage it the natural way for some reason or another, pregnant. Their reasons would make a fascinating study for your project. Wouldn’t it?”

In my initial interview with Dr Velour before the physical, I had been advised, “The clinic has certain privacy and proprietary concerns,” Dr Velour aggressively leaned forward to forcefully assert, “primarily to protect our clientele, but also to protect the business. Virile men, mostly young, college age, many just boys your age — possibly you’ve seen them about the campus, come here to donate sperm; nubile women come here to be impregnated. You would have to sign a confidentiality agreement, like every employee. In your case, you must surrender editorial control over the contents of your paper.”

Beginning her examination, Dr Velour read from her electronic notebook. “Amy Warbler, age 22, Female, Heterosexual, in a relationship, sex 3 — 4 times a week,” Dr Velour looked up, paused to shoot me an evil smile and snickered, “lucky girl. Birth control, preferred position woman on top,” the Doctor raised her penciled — in eyebrows noting, “position resolved by wrestling? You may take advantage of our gymnasium to limber up.”

Gymnasium? I wondered. Where does Dr Velour hide it? From the street, the clinic appeared to be located in a simple store front.

“Yes,” Dr Velour commented, “A hearty work out would do you good before you engage in your next round of the battle of the sexes with your partner.”

“Good exercise, indeed!” I declared. The enthusiasm of my response drew a delayed reaction of momentary shock and amusement when I added, “Jerry likes a stiff challenge.”

“You’re here to study Industrial Psychology up close in a people intensive industry,” Dr Velour, belatedly reacting to my double — entend with a strained smile, noted.

“Like you said,” I replied with a chuckle, “this business produces people. The women pay to get pregnant. Understanding their motivations could be an important factor in recruiting new business.”

“Indeed,” Dr Velour agreed. “Can I ask what interested you in performing your internship requirement through the Western Avenue Fertility Clinic?”

“Your Facility,” I advised her, “is strategically located between my off — campus apartment and the campus and within walking distance of both.”

“Indeed, the role of convenience in making choices, even in the weighty matters of life, boils down to the old saw: location, location, location.” Dr Velour shot me a pleasant smile. “Ok, Nurse Chafer took all the lab work and took your vitals,” Dr Velour, looking down at her electronic notepad, reminded me, “Now, let’s get to work. My style of internal examination is different from those you might have experienced.” After a pause, Dr Velour ordered, “Turn around, feet apart, bend at the waist. Nurse lubricated your anal cavity to take a rectal temperature. Just to make things go smoothly,” Dr Velour, a glistening smile sprouting, paused, “I’m going to do it again.”

I sighed as I steeled myself to send my mind somewhere else. “Despite powerful hands,” I, turning my back to the Doctor, recounted, “Nurse Chafer administered a gentle massage with considerable patience.” I took a deep breath as my bare feet were gently pushed further apart by a gentle nudge from Dr Velour’s sneakers.

I grunted as Dr Velour announced şişli escort that “I am conducting a bimanual internal examination of the anal and vaginal cavities.” Reflexively, I gasped as I bucked up against her penetrating thumb and fingers.

“I’m going to,” Dr Velour, leaning over me, implanting her breasts into my back, advised, “palpate your lower abdomen for signs of ovarian, renal or intestinal abnormalities.”

Hmm, my mind brought me to rolling on the floor with Jerry. When emerging on top, Jerry held me face down for doggy style penetration. Jerry’s hands would reach across my belly. “I’m feeling for my cock,” he’d whisper, “to jerk myself off inside you.”

Much like Jerry making love, Dr Velour, examining me, sent nimble fingers across my pubis. Both hands met inside me long enough to vigorously tease my clit. My breathing became rapid. I ground my butt against her intruding fingers while I softly murmured, “fuck — me.”

I tended to me much louder while I pumped Jerry for his man sap.

“There,” Dr Velour retracted her fingers slowly softly caressing my clit and vaginal lips on the way out, out, “that didn’t hurt a bit. If you’re ready for your tour, I’ll have the nurse escort you to the employee showers.”

“Clothes?” I reminded Dr Velour by holding my hands away from my hips to display my bare body.

Promised that “Nurse should see to clothing,” I waited for what seemed to be an eternity until the nurse tapped on the door and entered.

“Ready?” When I requested my clothing, Nurse Chafer touched her notebook and a hidden door behind one of the anatomical charts opened. Though a passageway, we found ourselves upon a steel grated catwalk illuminated by light bulbs dangling from a wire. “First showers,” the nurse, pointing to the catwalk, ordered, “shall we go?” Noting my surprise, the nurse added, “Back stage.”

I sighed when my bare feet touched the steel grid. The nurse chuckling, pointing to either end of the building, “This is called the walk of shame. It connects the lockers with the showers. The fertility clinic is a sterile environment. Employees shower with an antibacterial soap before and after work and in migrating between different zones.”

Biting my lip, I wondered what had propelled my bare feet forward onto the cold steel grid of the catwalk? Momentarily pausing to look over the rail, I was shocked to see immediately below me the overheat lighting structure for a swimming pool and gym. I looked at my escort in confusion. The clinic’s frontage on Western Avenue gave no clue of such an extensive underground operation. Was this an athletic club or a fertility clinic?

Nurse Chafer, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder and peering over the rail, noted, “one of the perks offered to the sperm donors, free gymnasium. Some employees use it in their free time. Males exercise with an athletic supporter; swim nude. Females are issued a two — piece.”

“And genetic male employees who identify as female,” I prodded. “Must trans — men wear the jock strap in the gym and swim nude?”

“The issue of trans — men in the gym has yet to arise,” came the curt reply. “Any second thoughts?” the Nurse asked with an evil grin.

I sighed. “Going forward isn’t solely a question of having already pliantly complied this far. I need this internship to graduate. The incentive of a paycheck is sufficient to endure,” I grimaced, “unusual conditions.”

A bright light, reflecting off glistening tiled walls, shining at the end of the catwalk, marked the showers. “With pressure from local human rights commission upon all employers to provide equality for trans — men,” Nurse Chafer explained as we proceeded to the shower, “we don’t provide separate lockers or showers for employees reporting in. New employees can be eh — uneasy in the beginning. It wears off.”

Chuckling at her “interesting choice of words,” I suggested, “Guys standing there, drooling at girls; girls throwing globules of soap at them like the silliness in junior high school gym classes.”

“Some older employees have had more difficulty adjusting,” Nurse Chafer positioned me under a spigot, instructing “Stand there.” Moving out of the way, the nurse added, “but in this business, we’re looking at naked males getting jerked off by a machine and nude females getting eh-stimulated — eh pre – insemination all day long. Otherwise,” the nurse added as soapy water rained down on me, “functional nudity for the co — ed shower seems ordinary enough.”

As I toweled off, the nurse handed me a two piece and white athletic socks and sneakers. Holding up top and bottom in front of me and stretching the thong, I remarked, “less than one pass of the shuttle didn’t leave much fabric.”

While I stepped into the thong, the nurse commented, “One size fits all! You’ll find the material is very pliable. It expands,” she explained while I took a breath to pull the top over my boobs, “to fit most figures.”

From the employee showers, I was led into the donor’s tuzla escort showers where the nurse waived to Alison, a barefoot woman in a skin – tight pastel bikini before we passed down a ramp into the gym. As we passed under the level of the gym’s overhead lights, I went blind for a second.

“You’ll get used to it,” Nurse Chafer smiled. At the white tiled, gym level we came past three offices. At the first office, the door was closed and the blinds over glass window in the door and the wall was shuttered. The nurse noted, “Dr Velour’s and Dr Stroker’s private office.” A smaller office’s door was open. “This would be your office. You keep your notes and prepare your paper here. Nothing leaves the building.”

In the next office, blond haired Greta, the manager of the gym, rose, muscular thighs flexed, to greet us. “Nurse Chafer, is this our new intern?”

Strong arms gripping me, Greta explained, “the gym is a perk for our hearty stallions for a time left unbridled to work off frustration. Employees may workout in their spare time.”

“Do many employees take advantage of the gym?” I asked.

“Out of two dozen regular employees,” Greta advised, “only two or three — mostly men participate in off — duty gymnastic exercise and swimming. What keeps more men on staff away, surprisingly is the nudity. Like patient and donors, to enter the pool, male staff must have body hair depilated. Female patients and employees are welcome but only an occasional woman other than myself or Dr Velour takes advantage.”

“Naturally, I suppose. While I’m on the cleaning crew, I suppose I will be working down here, occasionally,” I responded.

“You will be given an hour to record your observations,” Greta noted, “and to go over your findings with me or Dr Velour.” Holding her arm out toward the gym, “Shall we tour our state of the art gym?”

After a tour of the nicely shined exercise machinery, Greta, taking a few minutes to work dead lifting weights, questioned me, “How much iron do you suppose you can pump?”

Transfixed by her powerful deltoids and biceps, I, when prompted, replied, “I never tested myself.”

“On janitorial staff, you’ll have to lift some heavy weights,” Greta, spoke without hesitating between reps, “Spend some time working out here. Now, nothing like the pool.” Greta stripped off her running shorts and cotton T shirt, revealing a firm body, not an ounce of fat. “Join me,” she invited.

Nurse Chafer nodded to me to join Greta in the pool. Her glance, searing through the two piece, told me to swim nude. I managed two or three laps. I was standing on the deck covered in a towel shivering with my arms crossed, when Greta triumphantly raised her arms.

Leaping out of the pool, Greta did some cartwheels on the deck. Wishing me well with a hug on my project here, Greta assured me, “We’ll have some fun together.” Palpitating my boobs, Greta whispered, “We’ll harden your boobs, firm up that jelly belly and,” with a playful whack on the butt, Greta declared, “tighten those muscles of that fleshy derriere!”

Back in the shower, rinsing off, I was reminded by Nurse Chafer that in a sterile facility, a shower was required to move between different sections. As I toweled off, I accused Nurse Chafer of “just enjoying watching me naked.”

“I’m a nurse,” Nurse Chafer retorted, “that’s my privilege.” Throwing me a smock, a thong, loose pantaloons, booties and hood—all a subdued light grey, Chafer noted, “it’s a unisex cleaners’ uniform.”

Informed me that the pants were optional, I tossed the pants back. “Jerry and I may wrestle for top position, but still Jerry prefers me to be 100% female. He wears the pants—because I say so.”

Reflectively, the nurse observed, “Your choice. Employees have a legal right to decide to determine a gender identity.”

“I’ve wondered how that works. Suppose a trans — man wants to be impregnated,” I, throwing the grey smock over my head, asked, “or a FTM, female — to — male wants to donate sperm?”

With a chuckle, the nurse paused to contemplate before formulating her response, “I leave it to the doctors to decide how to deal with the situation in which legal requirements come up against biological impossibility. Perhaps,” the nurse’s voice turned cheery, “you may play an important role: providing assistance — eh coming with resolutions — eh in rummaging through such — er novel questions.”

From the employee showers, I was once again in the donor’s showers where the nurse waived to Alison, a barefoot woman in that pastel bikini before we passed into male treatment rooms.

“Generally,” the nurse explained, “cleaning in the AM begins here at 5AM. Males are depositing bodily secretions into the treatment rooms from 6AM onward. To prevent spread of disease, each room must be antiseptically cleaned before we open at 6 am and after each use.” Escorting me behind the treatment rooms to an observation booth, the nurse suggested, “Let`s, take a peek. Shall we?”

A flick pendik escort of a switch rendered the wall transparent. On the other side of the wall a male was laying face down on a workout bench, muscles tensed, butt burnished red, legs spread across the bench, a darkened face shield enshrouded his head.

“It’s very different from the classical sperm donation clinic,” the nurse observed, “y’know the places where guys came in to jerk themselves off to pornographic pictures. Here the conditions replicate not only the mechanics of intercourse but also create the warmth of intimacy.”

“How do you replicate the physical conditions of intercourse?” I asked.

“The male is comfortably placed, in sexual position,” Nurse Chafer explained, “of choice. Here the male is lying face down; his genitalia is inserted in a sleeve, a thin pouch which is plugged,” the nurse lifted her eyebrows and smiled in self – conceit, “into device which simulates the moist warmth and viscosity of a woman’s orifice. The machine`s pulsations draw sympathetic responses in the male organs precipitating male orgasm yielding ejaculate.”

“And the opaque blinder?” I questioned, “aren’t men very visual in arousal?”

“What you call `the blinder’ is really a screen which creates a virtual reality either from stock footage or from an original production.”

“Original production,” I laughed, “are you telling me, the facility produces porn?”

“Oh, no,” the nurse shook her head, “I suppose we could, but our original productions are custom made for the particular donor. The gentleman, ordering an individualized virtual encounter, visualizes his significant other in a fantasy that the clinic has filmed. Shall we move on?”

Back in the male shower, Alison, the tall thin shower girl in a pastel bikini, was at the cabinet in the corner stowing towels and soaps. The nurse announced our presence, “Still quiet, Alison.”

“Mid — day shift is the slowest,” Alison advised, “most of the guys come before 9AM or after 6PM to drop their wad, shower, or use the gym.”

“I guess,” I interjected, “you enjoy the quiet.”

“Older female employees might prefer the mid — day shift if they have to work the men’s shower, but there are some advantages to working the busy hours; the cups and front panel can get weighted down…” A frosty glance from Nurse Chafer cut off the response.

“The day goes faster when you’re busy,” the Nurse concluded the discussion, “So much to learn,” the Nurse declared in a cheery voice, “Let’s move into the male locker.”

In the donor’s locker, a naked man was carefully hanging his clothes in an open locker. Greeting the nurse, Hal claimed to be waiting for an attendant to release him.

Release? I wondered. Is he being confined? My eyes widened when he smiled and turned to face us. I could not help staring at his masculine genitalia ensconced in a wire cage.

“Are you here for a donation?” the nurse asked, “or just a workout and a shower?” Before answering, the man glanced at me. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten to introduce Amy. She’ll be joining us. You’ll be seeing here when you report in for your early morning work — out or donation.”

“Day — off, just a few hours in the gym and a workout in the gym.” The man responded.

Nodding approvingly as she pressed a button on her notebook to open the device, the nurse quipped, “just some time dangling with loose change.”

When the comment drew a smile, her inquiry after the relative comfort of the bird cage by comparison to the iron cup drew an explanation of difficulties positioning. “You have to be careful,” Hall remarked, patting his belly, “lying on your belly, but Macy says the cage force me to consider her needs.”

“Speaking of her needs, have you considered bringing Macy to the clinic on a couples` day?” the nurse called out to man as he turned to proceed to the showers.

“Hmm, Macy,” facing us, Hal expressed concern, “is ah—afraid of intruding on my man — space …”

“And not the electric shock,” the nurse chided Hal, “the magnet attraction of finding yourselves naked together.”

“We’re saving for a house,” Hal explained, “To attain the high sperm count the clinic pays for, certain sacrifices, eh — restrictions are required; to maintain physique, the exercise regimen.”

When Hal vanished into the mists of the shower, I asked, “Are donors encouraged to bring spouses along?”

“The Facility gives away little for free,” the nurse explained, “there’s an expectation that something productive can be developed. Exactly what form that takes, you may learn. Next step, we return you to the examination room to talk to Dr Velour and to prepare you to leave.”

Once again, we were in a passageway. The nurse stopped at a consultation room and switched a command which rendered the wall transparent. “Dr Velour is conducting a monitoring interview of donor.

Inside the room a naked, young man stood next to an examining table. Dr Velour, pushing the patient’s head to the side while fondling the patient’s testicles, ordered the man to cough.

“Mr Hauser,” Dr Velour addressed the donor, “you’re a young heterosexual man, married with a child, could you explain why you want to `bind up your loins’ into a cock and ball jam? I grant you release from the muzzle only when release of the pent – up tension will produce a maximum yield?”

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I love you no matter who you wank off. – 12/06/20

Today is Friday. It’s nearly a fortnight since Katie’s ‘you really like…’ bombshell. Sarah is out of bed before me, as usual. Silhouetted naked, in the morning sunlight, she tells me that after she gets home from work, she is planning to do a workout, and then go out to meet her friend Karen. I ask her:

‘Where are you going to meet with Karen?’

‘I don’t know yet. Why so you need to know?’

‘I don’t need to know. I’m just interested.’

‘God you’re like a Muslim husband!’

She moves closer to the edge of the bed. She slides two fingers over her pussy, parts the lips, pushes her crotch towards my face, and grinds her hips.

‘Next thing we know you’ll be making me wear a black cloth over my head and locking me indoors.’

‘Aw come on… As if I’m anything like that! I don’t mind what you do. I was only showing an interest. So… you’re going to come home, work out, presumably get a shower, go out and meet Kaz… How long do those things take? Where’s dinner in all of that? I need to know. Are you eating with us?’

‘You don’t need to know fuck all!’

Grinning she skips over to the dresser and pulls out a pair of panties. As she steps into them she tells me:

‘You just make the k**s some pasta. Make sure they’ve done their school work. And make sure they’ve done it fucking properly this time! Katie needs a shower and her hair washed. Make sure they both get to bed on time.’

‘What about me?’

‘What about you?’

‘When should I eat?’

‘For fucks sake! Do you need me to to tell you when to eat now? Fucking man up!’

She strides out to the bathroom wearing nothing but the black thong panties that she’s just pulled on. Still laid in bed, I mutter out of her earshot.

‘Well I’d kind of like to eat with you… And you haven’t even told me whether you need me to cook you any pasta… and when are you going to be home?… and…’ (Paranoia kicks in.) ‘..as if you are meeting flipping Katie.’

Sarah’s moods have been up and down all week. In her low moods she’s been tetchy and irritable. I’ve sensed resentment, directed at me, for reasons that I could not fathom. My paranoia has been working overtime.

Having been high this morning, in the evening, when she arrives home from work, she’s in one of her low moods again. I ask her:

‘Are you OK gorgeous? You seem a bit down.’

‘I’m fed up of people who say they will do something and then not doing it.’

‘OK…’

Nothing irks Sarah more that someone saying that they will do something and then not doing it.

‘Have you hoovered everywhere?’

‘Yes. And mopped the floors. And cleaned the bathroom. All the things I said I would do.’

‘But have you done it properly?’

‘Yes I’ve done it all properly.’

‘I don’t believe you… Did you post that parcel for me?’

‘Ah… no. I have to go fetch some milk. The post office will still be open. I’ll take it with me.’

‘For fucks sake! It’ll have missed today’s post now!’

‘Does that matter?’

‘You’re fucking useless!’

‘It’s an Amazon return. Why does it need to have made this mornings post?’

‘Where is it? I’ll take it. I’ll get the fucking milk! You want something done… do it your fucking self!’

She goes off in search of the parcel and some moments later I hear the door slam as she leaves the house.

When she returns she tells me that she needs me to lift her mood. She says:

‘Come and workout with me.’

‘I can’t! I can barely walk in a straight line.’

‘Come on. Get some fucking life into you! There’s all sorts you can do.’

Eventually I consent. She amends her workout to cater for my disability. Out in the garden, in the late afternoon sunshine, she coaches me through various sets of exercises. It would be paradise if it wasn’t so torturous.

‘Come on keep your back straight!’

‘I literally can’t. I’m a cripple.’

‘You’re a wimp!’

‘Jesus Christ! This is killing me.’

‘Stop swearing and get on with it!’

‘Arrgghhh Fuck! Jesus!’

‘Keep it going! Keep your legs up! Keep it there! Keep it there!’

‘Ahhh Ahh Fuuuccckk!’ I’m laid on the floor exhausted and hurting.

‘Why do you make so much fuss? It’s supposed to be enjoyable.’

‘Enjoyable?! It’s bloody torture! I see the value in it… I want to do it. But it’s never going to be enjoyable!’

‘Well I enjoy it!’

That’s why she’s super fit I guess. She actually enjoys working out like an Olympic athlete. The k**s step out from inside the house. Brandon laughs at the scene.

‘Ha ha ha heer! What have you done to him Mum? He looks like he’s worn into the ground.’

‘That’s not fair. Come on! Be nice to your Dad.’

‘Mum’s like a super fit gymnast and he’s literally like an old man who can’t get off the floor.’ Little Katie chips in.

‘That’s not fair. He’s your Dad! His body is damaged. He’s wonderful to us all and he’s very kind to you. You ought to appreciate that and be a bit nicer to him.’

‘What izmir escort like you are?!’

‘What’s that supposed to mean young lady?’

Sarah playfully reaches for Katie who pulls away. I make my way indoors for a shower as the ensuing chase around the garden gradually evolves, through rough and tumble, into a water fight. As I shower I can hear their their happy squeals and howls of laughter. I smile at the beauty of it all. This place… This family… This weather… Then it occurs to me that Sarah has made no mention of her planned meeting with her friend Karen.

We all eat dinner together and, after I’ve washed up, got the k**s showered, and put them both to bed, Sarah and I settle to watch a comedy TV show. I feed her chocolates. I always feed her chocolates in the evening now. I can do that safe in the knowledge that she will never put on weight. Because she actually enjoys high intensity workouts. When I started feeding her chocolates my idea was: Whenever she does anything a bit risque or slutty I will reward her. With chocolate. She won’t even realize that it’s happening. That’s how it started. But somehow it has become a regular thing. I’m feeding them to her every night. I dare not run out.

In the TV show, a couple have marital problems, after the woman, on a drunken night out, cops off with a student half her age. As we get ready for bed I comment on it:

‘Her husband ought to have a word with himself.’

‘What?’

‘He’s totally over reacting… OK… so she wanked off a student… So what?’

‘He’s upset!’

I love it when we happen across a situation like this in a TV show or a movie. I see it as an opportunity to indirectly reassure her, that I could handle her cuckolding me, without actually talking about cuckolding at all. I leave her to make that connection. And I always try to put a clear message through to her inner slut.

Later as we are laid in bed I bring it up again:

‘OK maybe he is upset but it’s not worth damage to their relationship is it? He ought to just get over it. He loves her… She loves him… She’s been open with him about it… Eventually…’

‘Like you would be OK with it!’

‘I wouldn’t let it affect our relationship!…’ (Message to the inner slut time.) ‘…I love you no matter who you wank off.’

‘Yeah right!’

She looks at me with raised eyebrows before breaking into a smile and kissing me. She lays one of her legs over mine and slides her hand onto my cock.

‘Is this thing going to play tonight?’ She whispers. Her lips touching mine as she talks.

‘What do you want to play with it?’

‘I want to suck it right off.’

I keep having trouble getting it up lately. I’m sure it’s due to this cuckolding obsession. I’ve started secretly using Viagra, but I’ve not anticipated sex tonight, so I’m panicking at first, then relieved when my cock actually starts swelling in her hand. I settle down into kissing her and talking. Our lips touching as we whisper.

‘You love cock.’

‘I love your cock.’

‘You want to cum all over a big hard cock.’

‘I want to cum all over your big hard cock.’

‘You’ve cum all over a lot of hard cock.’

‘Shhh.. I’m just here with you right now.’

She pulls her mouth away from mine and slowly kisses her way down my chest and over my stomach. In a flash she has the helmet of my cock in her mouth and she’s sucking hard. She begins running her tongue up and down the underside of the shaft as she sucks. I put my hands behind my head and lay back in relaxed bliss.

She pulls my cock from her mouth and raises her head. ‘Er… What the fuck?’

‘What?… This is amazing!… I love it.’

‘Get your fucking arms down!’

I take my hands from behind my head and lay them at my sides.

‘Fucking keep then there! Behave yourself and don’t move!’

She lowers her mouth back onto my cock. This time taking it deep into her throat before almost gagging and pulling back slightly. Then she begins a rotating, three stage, routine of: circling my glans with her tongue a few times; suddenly deep throating me for a few seconds; then pulling up and sucking hard on my throbbing cock head.

I don’t move. I could lay here like this forever. I’m trying hard not to cum. It’s rare that I get a blow job. Let alone one as good as this. A couple of times over the next quarter of an hour she has me at the brink of exploding into her mouth. Each time she seems to sense it and eases off. Finally she takes my cock from her mouth and straddles my waist. Placing her feet flat down at my hips. She squats above my cock, taking it in her hand and rubbing the tip against the lips of her vagina.

‘My pussy is going to batter the fuck out of this thing.’

‘Oh god!’

‘Don’t you move!’

The head of my cock is enveloped by her warm wet pussy. She teases. Slipping the head in and out of her soft opening. Squatting, she gently thrusts and withdraws her ass. I watch her. Watch the way her tight supple body moves. The kahramanmaraş escort way her muscles flex. I watch the head of my cock slipping in and out. I want to go deeper. I want to put my hands on her tits. I desperately want to fuck her.

‘Ohhh Christ you are so sexy!’ I go to place a hand on her left breast.

She slaps my face. ‘No touching!’

I obey.

‘Now!…’ She looks sternly down at me.’ …Don’t blame me if I break this thing.’

She thrusts her ass further now. Enveloping three quarters of my cock tightly in her cunt.

‘Oh god I want to fuck you!’ I groan.

Then she changes her angle of grip. It’s feels as if she somehow has my cock snagged in her Pelvis. She grinds her ass suddenly, hard, and fast. Her pelvis is gripping my cock, between halfway and three quarters in, pulling on it, bending it. It’s actually painful. It really feels like she could snap it. I bite my top lip and take the pain. She seems to be enjoying herself.

‘This fucking thing…’ She’s telling me as she kneads my cock. ‘Needs to fucking man up… My fanny needs a proper… ‘ (thrust) ‘big…’ (thrust) ‘hard…’ (thrust) ‘cock!’

I can’t tell how long she goes on. It hurts and I’m genuinely scared that she could break my cock. A few times it actually feels like it is on the verge of snapping. Then, as I’m thinking that I must stop her before something terrible happens, she thrusts right down hard onto it. Taking the full length inside her, she starts rocking hard upon it. She leans her face into mine, looks deep into my eyes and commands:

‘Don’t you fucking dare cum!’

‘Oh god… I’m not sure I can help it.’

‘You love me fucking you.’

‘Yes!’

‘I’m going to cum all over your cock.’

Her hips are grinding now. Pushing down on her forward thrusts. She raises her face away and pushes her right breast towards my face.

‘Lick it!’

I kiss her breast and begin to gently lick her tit as she rocks.

‘Ohh fuck that is nice.’

She takes my left hand and places it between her thighs just above my cock. I know what she wants. I position my thumb so that her clitoris brushes against it each time she thrusts forward.

‘Ohhh God! That is fucking good!’

It’s a strain to hold my position, craning my neck to lick her nipple and keeping my thumb in place, not moving a muscle, as her thrusts become more vigorous. But I love her like this. I don’t want her to end. A couple of times I move. Just to bring her down from the brink of orgasm. She’s frustrated and she pinches me hard.

‘Why are you fucking moving!? I thought I told you not to move?’

It’s worth being told off and pinched to prolong the show. After the second telling off I hold still and eventually she works herself into possibly the longest loudest orgasm that she’s ever had. I try to stay right on the spot with cock, thumb, and tongue. To keep her cumming for as long as possible. There’s nothing better in the world.

‘Did you cum?’ She asks.

‘No. Not yet.’

‘For fucks sake. Get on with it then!’

She bends down pressing her chest against mine. I grip her hair with one hand and her ass with the other. As I start to fuck her she moves her hips in time with mine. Shorty I realize that she might cum again. I keep to her rhythm. Clasping her tightly and driving my cock deep into her. This time her orgasm, though still vocal, is shorter and less intense. Just as she finishes I release myself into her. Just for a few moments I make as much noise as she does. Before relaxing, spent, and wondering…

What the fuck happened to meeting Karen?

She’s been gone ages Dad! – 04/07/20

Suddenly Sarah is running a lot. She’s always run occasionally, maybe 3 to 4 times a month. But she’d not been running at all through May and early June. Now since mid June she’s been out there two or three times a week. I’ve noticed that the scheduled times of the runs often change. On occasion she has even dressed in her running gear, first thing in the morning, and worn it through the day. As if she knows that she’ll be going out running, but she doesn’t know when, and she needs to be ready to head out at any moment.

One day she returned and took her leggings off in the porch. I can’t think why. I later I found a wad of tissue right there on the porch floor. Dried crusty. It was folded through the middle. Making it the size and shape of a sanitary pad. It looked like kitchen paper. But not of the brand that we have in our house.

I know I’m being paranoid. I’m sure it was just a snotty hanky. But I can’t help my mind spinning. I’m intrigued. I’m frightened. I’m scared at the thought that she could be forming an illicit emotional connection with someone else. But at the same time I’m thrilled at the thought that someone else might be fucking her. My emotions are a jumbled mess.

Since Katie’s “you really like talking to that man…” bombshell Sarah’s behavior has been notably odd. Yoyo-ing between seeming to be madly in love with manavgat escort me one day and in a foul mood at me, without reason, the next.

I gave her set of new panties. These are another step sexier than previous ones. I was worried that they were too risque, too soon, but she loved them. She immediately wore the sexiest pair to go out and meet one of her girlfriends on an evening. Which was followed by the best sex we’d had since the night that Karen seeming stood her up. I felt loved.

Then on Father’s day (UK) she’d complained all morning that I’d not got all of the the weekly house cleaning done yet. I finished it off that afternoon, under duress, whilst she did a workout and then got herself showered. On Fathers day!

All day long she persistently found fault with me. Then at dinnertime she complained that I’d not paid her enough attention during the day and that I’d “done fuck all”. Even the k**s were dumbfounded by those accusations. Brandon defended me.

‘What!? Give him a break mum! He cleaned the whole house! He’s done everything you’ve asked him to do! And it’s Father’s day!!’

Then after dinner she’d suddenly appeared in running gear. Out of the blue she was going running. She was gone for hours. She returned, to her second shower of the day, and I managed to quickly check out her clothing, on the bathroom floor, after she’d finished in there. I barely had a second to look at it before she came back and picked it all up. With her towel wrapped around her, she took it downstairs, and put it all straight into the wash. I’d only managed to sneak a quick look at her clothes. I could have been mistaken. None of it appeared to be sweaty. It was a very hot day. There was no sex for me on Father’s day.

The next weekend where she wore running gear from first thing on the Saturday morning. During the morning I asked her when she was going running?

She said ‘Lunchtime’.

By late afternoon she’d still not been running. So I asked her again:

‘When are you going running?’

‘Why the hell are you assuming that I’m going running today!?’ She snapped angrily at me.

‘Well… because you’ve written in here… in the diary.’ I pointed to the diary entry and she simmered down. I decided that it was best not to mention that she was dressed in her running gear.

‘Maybe later.’ She said.

She changed out of her running gear, in the evening, after dinner time. She didn’t go out running. She was in a foul mood all evening.

My paranoia hounds me. It says to me:

‘Remember what little Katie said…You really like talking to that man don’t you mummy?… She’s probably meeting him out there for fucks sake!… Do you really believe that she met her friend Laura for a cup of Tea after she had her haircut the other day?… A cup of tea that went on all afternoon?… She looked like sex on a stick for fucks sake!… She was flushed red in the face after she came back…’

It’s a constant dialogue in my mind.

Today she’s going out running yet again. She mentions it in the morning but she seems to be fretting about whether she can find the time. I offer to make the dinner and to do whatever I can to help. I don’t want her to have an affair. But for some reason I can’t keep from doing things to help smooth the path to one for her. I suggest that she could maybe go tomorrow instead. She doesn’t respond.

At lunchtime we’re sat with the k**s enjoying a family lunch. The k**s are laughing and joking. Sarah seems distant. Suddenly she rises from the table saying:

‘Where’s my phone?’

Scanning the room, she spots her phone and grabs it from a kitchen counter. As she sits back down she appears to quickly check something on it. Then she makes a fuss over taking a picture of the k**s. The k**s seem slightly taken aback. Surprised that she suddenly wants to take a photo of them. It seems odd to me. I put it down to paranoia and carry on eating.

Sarah then spends the whole day chopping and changing her mind over going running. It’s raining on and off. She has been expecting sun. There are sunny intervals but she doesn’t choose one. Eventually she heads out at around 19:30 as I’m putting little Katie to bed. It’s raining.

Later as I put Brandon to bed after 21:00 he says:

‘Dad… Where the hell has Mum got to?’

‘Well she’s out hill running. You know what she’s like. She loves it. She’s unstoppable.’

‘Yeah but she’s never gone this long! Where’s she running to? The flipping moon?’

‘I’ll ask her to look in on you when she gets back. She’ll be back soon… I’m sure.’

I close the door of his room and wish him goodnight. I feel an emptiness in my chest. Of the sort that we feel when we are threatened and scared. In my head I can hear Brandon over again. With a hint of suspicion of Sarah and with puzzlement at my lack of concern:

‘Where on earth is Mum? She’s been gone ages Dad!’

I go and sit at the piano. I start to play. Just bits of melodies at first. Then an old 70s song. I play one song after another. Whatever comes into my head. I don’t know how many. I lose track of time. The house is dark when she arrives home. I stop playing and go to find her. (I heard her come though the back door into the kitchen.) She still has her ear phones in. Somehow, unintentionally, I creep up behind her. She doesn’t know that I’m there. Not until I put my hands on her hips. Then she nearly jumps out of her skin.

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This is a fan fiction based off of the Night Of The Demons horror movie trilogy. I realize that not a lot of people have heard of these movies so I have included a picture of the villainess, Angela, at the end of the story.

…………………………

It sounded like the dumbest, most unoriginal frat challenge I had ever heard: A night in a haunted house. Even now, as I pulled up to Hull house, I thought it was such a joke. The douchebags back on campus had even given me the so called “history” of the house.

Apparently, there was a Halloween party thrown in the house (once a mortuary) back in the late 80’s. All the teenagers there were massacred, except for Angela, the girl who threw the party. They say the house was possessed by a demon that inhabited Angela at some point during the party and that at the end of the night she descended into Hell, body and soul. And now every Halloween she haunts the place and yada yada yada. It was all so stupid. Like something out of a cheesy slasher movie.

It was only 8 p.m. But the October sky was already pitch black. I decided to get out of the car and into the house. Maybe if nothing else, there would be something in the old dump worth stealing. I grabbed my backpack and headed on foot towards the house

I walked in through the front door. A part of me couldn’t believe it was unlocked. The rest of me didn’t give a shit. I passed by a staircase on the way to what I could only assume was the living room. The moonlight shined in just enough for me to see what looked like an old leather couch. It looked comfy enough, so I made myself comfortable, grabbing a beer out of my backpack and sprawling out on the couch. I made it about halfway through the can before I heard a voice. A female voice.

“I hope you brought enough for the rest of the class.” The voice stated.

I was understandably startled by the voice, but I believe I acted in a very mature manner and handled the shock like only a gentleman could… by which, I mean I screamed like a girl and said something along the lines of…

“Holy shit monkey!”

I jumped up and looked around. It was too dark to really see much. Oh no, I thought, maybe the place really is haunted.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked looking all over the room.

“Who the fuck are YOU?” The voice shot back. “This is my house. I think that gives me authority over the I-asked-first logic you might be thinking of throwing at me.”

The voice made a good point. I tried to think of what to say next, but she spoke again.

“Hey, you wanna see a magic trick?” The voice asked. Suddenly, what seemed like hundreds of candles all around the house flicked on and the whole place was now illuminated. I looked to the doorway I had entered the room through and saw the figure that the voice belonged to.

“Ha. I still got it.” She said cheerily. Her long dark hair went down to her back. Her lips were blood red with a kind of ruby lipstick that she wore. She wore what looked like a skimpy black wedding dress that hugged her curves marvelously. She wasn’t much upstairs, but man, what a staircase. If you know what I mean. I didn’t realize I was staring until she pointed it out.

“Jeez, are you gonna take a picture? No, wait… on second thought, don’t do that. You may see more than you want.” Her comment carried a slight air of menace but I was too focused on her body to care.

“I’m sorry”, I stammered, “I, uh, I didn’t think anybody lived here. Isn’t this Hull house?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I thought it was supposed to be… uh…”

“What?”, Her tone was somewhat mocking, “Haunted?”

“Well, yeah. Something like gümüşhane escort that. No, no, I’m sorry. EXACTLY that.”

She shrugged a little before stating…

“Well, I can assure you that there is nobody here but little old me. Anyway, what should I do about you? You have broken into my house.”

I realized I could be in a lot of trouble.

“Look, it was a misunderstanding. I can just leave now and we can forget the whole thing. I’ll tell the guys back at school the truth about the house and nobody will bother you again.”

“Wait a minute now. Hold your horses.”

She slinked over to a cozy looking chair and sat down into it. There was something alluring about the way she looked at me.

“Let’s not be too hasty. I don’t have much company here very often. Plus it’s not like you’re the most unattractive guest I’ve ever had.” Her come on didn’t go unnoticed. “Maybe we could just spend the evening together. Unless you have some hot number waiting for you back in town…” Her voice trailed a little as if she half-heartedly meant that as a question.

“No, actually. I don’t need to be anywhere.” I lied. I did have a girlfriend, Rebecca, back in town. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, something was drawing me more and more to this mysterious woman. It struck me that I didn’t even know her na…

“I’m Angela.” She said as if reading my mind.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Jason.” I introduced myself.

“So, can I ask you a question, Jason?”

“Uh, sure.” I finished my beer and set the can on a small table next to the couch.

“Why did you lie to me just now?”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

“What do you mean?

She looked at me with a sly grin that was half sexy and half accusing. I started to worry in the way that a small child would if they got caught jumping on the bed.

“You do have a girlfriend, don’t you? I can read your naughty little mind.”

She made a gesture with her hand and suddenly the buttons on my shirt all popped off and my shirt ripped and flew off of me.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” I yelped. She just smiled wider and made another gesture. This time, my pants were ripped and flew off of my lower body. I was stripped down to my underwear, shoes, and socks. I tried to cover myself with my hands.

“Okay, okay, just wait a second.” I yelped nervously, fearful of what might be coming next. She chuckled.

“Why? It’s Halloween, silly. And the way it works around here, is that you get a trick… and I get a treat.”

“Wha-what are you going to do to me?” I asked fearfully.

“Going up?” She asked as I felt my body levitate two feet off the ground and my limbs pulled out into an x shape.

“No, no, no. This can’t be happening.” I was absolutely terrified. She stood up and slowly walked towards me.

“Please don’t hurt me.” I begged.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just did a little more mind reading and decided what the perfect ‘treat’ would be.” She smiled mischievously. “The strapping young man lies about being in a relationship. He does this because he wants to feel me.”

She stops directly in front of me and looks up into my eyes. She coos.

“Well, can you feel… this…”

She keeps her gaze fixed on my face and traces a single fingertip around my kneecap. Oh no, I think to myself, not that. Anything but that. Not tickling.

“I think you can feel it.” She smiles widely and puts her other index finger to my other knee and traces little circles around both kneecaps. “You lied to me, and liars must be punished.” She stops tickling hatay escort for a moment. She makes one more gesture and my shoes and socks disappear. “Would you like to meet my friends?” She asks innocently.

“Friends?” I ask. I look down and see six gloved, floating, disembodied hands. Two are positioned at my feet, two more on my legs, and the last two at my torso.

“Please, don’t.” I plead. She simply winks at me and the different fingers start wiggling. Gloved fingertips glide up and down my soles and poke between my toes. Others prod and wiggle against the backs of my knees. The worst though, are the fingers at my sides and tummy. I force my lips shut and hope she will grow bored and make it all stop.

“You can fight it all you want but you’re not going anywhere until you learn your lesson.” She declares as the fingertips start to pick up speed. My face becomes a deep shade of red as my defenses start to wear down and my lips begin to curl into a forced smile. She spots the smile on my face and teases.

“Coochie coochie coo…”

“Shuuhuuhuutt uhuhuppp…”

“Ticklish? Come on let those giggles out little boy, tickle tickle!” Her teases torment my mind. All I can think about are the tickles.

“No!” I yell out as I feel the fingers on my sides and tummy becoming even more maddening.

“Who’s a ticklish little boy? You’re a ticklish little boy, yes you are!” She must have read my mind again because the fingers on my sides become even more unbearable. They just quickly stroke up and down the soft flesh they find. As much as I try to fight it, giggles start to slip out.

“Hehehe…Nooo I’m nohohoht…”

She glares at me.

“Ooohh stop telling lies, you get tickles for lies, coochie cooooooo!”

“Heheheheheehehhehehhehehhehehhehehhehe” the fingers and her voice push me over the edge as I start giggling more.

“Oh, that’s better isn’t it. Tickle tickle, let it out!” She giggles with glee as she watches me squirm.

“Heheheheheheheehe hahahahahahahahahahahah Stoohohohohohohohohohohohop teheheheheasing!”

“I’ve dealt with guys like you before.” She declares, “think they’re all big and strong but when those fingers wiggle, they just turn in to ticklish little boys, like you!”

“Nooohohohohohohohohohohohohoooooooo!”

“Oohh you’re fun, ticklish boy. You have so many tickle spots. I love your ticklish sides and that cute lil belly.”

“Nooohohohohootttt The Beehehhehelllyyyy!” I beg in a futile effort.

“Ooohh yes the belly. I know you like it, coochie coooooo!” She briefly pokes my bellybutton. My toes wiggle frantically and my sensitive tummy quivers under the fingers.

“Heheheheheheeheheheheheheheehehahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahaha Shhuuuuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuttt Uhuhuhuhuuhuuppppp!”

“Not until you have learned your lesson, ticklish boy.”

“Goooohohohohohoooo To Heehehehehheheheellllllll!”

She laughs hard at that one.

“Not yet!”

The fingers start moving really fast now as she continues taunting me.

“Ticklish belly, ticklish sides, ticklish toes and ticklish thighs…”

“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOTTT TIHHIHIIHICKLISH!” I scream out. This is pure torture. She truly must be a demon. The fingers keep wiggling all over me.

“Coochie coochiiiiiiiiiiieeeeee!”

I start to worry as I somehow find myself getting sexually excited by the tickling.

“Hehhehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe”

“Has he learned his lesson yet? Ticklish little boy.”

“Fuuuhuhuhuhuhuhck Yooohhohohoouuuuu!” I shout at her.

“Naughty boy, such language.” The fingers ısparta escort move fast, never letting up.

“Goohohohohohohohoddddamn Ihihihiitttt!” Throughout all the torment, I secretly thank the Lord that she hasn’t found my really ticklish spot. Then I remember that she can read my mind. Fuck.

She brings her own two hands up and begins to delicately tickle both of my nipples.

“How’s that, ticklish boy?”

“Heheheheeehehehehehehehehehe” It tickles me and, at the same time, turns me on even more. She responds by having the two hands at my legs begin to travel up and spider along my inner thighs.

“Hahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahah Doooohohohohoohnnnn’t do thaahahahhahahat!” I plead as my erection strains my underwear. She smirks and increases the intensity on my inner thighs as I blush wildly.

“Hahahhahhhhhahhhahahhhahahhahahhahahhahahahahahah ahahhahahha”

“Someone has very ticklish thighs, doesn’t he, ticklish boy? coochie cooooooo!”

“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO I DOOHOHOHOHN’T” It tickles terribly but is still somewhat endurable.

“Hmmm… where are you most ticklish I wonder?” She ponders out loud.

“I’ll Nehehehever tehehehlll you!” I start to think that maybe I can beat this.

“Well, the belly seems to be a good spot.” She stops the nipple tickling and pokes in my bellybutton again. Only this time, she keeps her finger in there for a moment and gently wiggles it.

“Hahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahhhahhah You biiihihihihihiitch!”

“Aaaha! Maybe I should start paying you lip service.” She makes a pair of lips appear so they can start blowing raspberries in my bellybutton.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA” I howl with each raspberry.

“The lips will not stop until you have learned your lesson ticklish little boy.” She warns.

“Pleheheheheheheheheheheeeeaase stohohoohohohopppp!” I think to myself that it’s okay unless she gets under my arms or near my bottom. However, the fingers are relentless in their tickling and the lips blowing raspberry after raspberry.

“Hmm maybe it’s time for another change around.”

“Whaaahahaahahahat?”

She move her own hands around so they’re under my arms and the lips keep going on my bellybutton.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH PLEEHEHEHEHHAHAAASSEEEE!”

“Aaahh, there’s a spot. Who can’t bring his arms down? Poor ticklish little boy.” Her verbal teasing is driving me to the brink of insanity.

“HAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHE NOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!”

“Oh yes, ticklish boy. Feel those nails under your ticklish armpits.”

I feel the wicked nails in the tender wells of my armpits driving me to hysterics.

“HAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH HA NOOOHOHOHOHOHOTTTTTTT TIHIHIHIHICKLISHHH!”

“Oohh yes he is, so ticklish under his arms, I wonder how he can stand it?”

“OHOHOHOHKKAAAYYY I LEEHEHEHEHEEAAARRRNED MY LLEEHHEHEHEHEHEHHEEHSSSOOONNNNNN!” I finally submit hoping that she will stop. I look down through teary eyes to see her devilish smile.

“Well, I’m not done yet.” She smirks and my underwear disappears. My hard cock bobs freely in the air. “More lip service I think.” She chirps as two more pairs of lips begin planting soft tickly kisses on my balls.

“NNOOOOOOOHHOHOHOHHOOHHOOOHOOOHHOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!”

She brings her wicked nails to tickle my perineum and asshole. Two tongues take their place under my arms and lick gently. I feel like I am going to cum any minute. Then the pair of lips at my bellybutton suddenly move down to blow on my perineum. She taunts me about how there isn’t a single spot on my that isn’t being tickled.

“Didn’t your mommy ever tell you: Good little girls go to Heaven. Bad little girls go EVERYWHERE!”

“AAAAAHAHAHAAHHAAHHAHAHAHAAHAAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHHA! “

“Tickly tickly tickly toooo…” She sings happily. “We’re all going to tickle you…”

She laughs wickedly as I cum screaming. But even after I have shot my load, the tickles don’t stop. I realize that it may never stop…

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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David had been his best friend since they were kids. They did everything together: growing up, hanging out, going to games, sharing and enjoying cars, beer, and girls. They even went to the same college and stayed roommates. Now David had moved to the coast and seemed to be settling down; he had found a house and moved in with a girl. The fact that they got engaged made it likely the change would be permanent.

Jonathan had to accept the pair were finally growing apart, yet the bond was still close and he was determined to make the most of this visit and their time together. That his best friend’s fiance was the hottest girl Jonathan had ever seen made it difficult, because despite himself, from the first time they met he was totally falling for her.

Samantha seemed so natural and relaxed. She was completely unaware of her own beauty, or if she was she didn’t show it. She was quite short but in great shape, with wavy brown hair that she kept tied in a ponytail. Jonathan had a weakness for the curls at the back of the neck, and the wisps that escaped over her ears. She had dark brown eyes that seemed somehow larger than they really were; he was certain that she wore contacts, and this small insecurity made her simply adorable. She laughed and smiled easily, and was clearly devoted to David.

He would never do anything to intentionally hurt his friend, so there was no question of trying to break them up or making any kind of move on Samantha. He was pleased that David had found such a fantastic girl, but there could be no denying the jealousy he felt. This girl was perfect. She dressed well, and loved to wear skimpy tops that accentuated the curve of her modest breasts, and skirts that showed off her long legs. Her pert backside quivered when she walked on heels that she wore every day when she went out to work. She had a cute button nose, and dimples, and her mouth seemed always ready to pout, such that he longed to lean forward and kiss her whenever they spoke.

Samantha was quite a package, with a personality to match, all in all everything he could ever hope to find in a woman, but he would never get to know her intimately, he had to accept that. Yet here right now he had the next best thing. He stood in their bedroom, stark naked. Open in front of him was Samantha’s underwear drawer.

Jonathan looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He felt guilty but excited. He knew the pleasure a fresh underwear drawer could bring to a dedicated panty fetishist like himself, and he ran his eye eagerly across the top drawer of the tall dresser he stood beside.

Everything was neatly laid out, and as he sifted the contents he was careful not to disturb anything too much. He felt as if he wanted to dive in and swim among the delicate luxurious garments. He had never seen such a collection of fine lingerie; almost everything was silky smooth nylon, satin, or actual silk, in black, white, cream, blue, and every pastel color, nothing cheap or garish. Samantha had impeccable taste in beautiful underwear, and David was a lucky, lucky man.

Jonathan picked out a black lace-trimmed bra and eagerly put it on, slipping his arms through the straps and expertly fastening the clasp behind his back. It was far from the first time he had worn one. He turned to the mirror to admire the effect. The bra was padded and underwired, giving the impression of gently swelling breasts, and he cupped his hands under, imagining Samantha’s breasts pressed tightly there. He adjusted the straps a little due to his much bigger frame, noting the crease where he could readjust it later so that she would not suspect it had been tampered with. He turned and looked over his shoulder, checking the bra was straight across his back. Perfect.

Turning back to the drawer, he noticed immediately the range of garter belts that meant some of the balled hose at one side would surely be stockings. In fact it seemed she liked showing her fabulous legs, as there were two-dozen pairs in various shades, all pleasingly sheer. He pulled out several belts, from slender black lace to full body-hugging basques, thrilling at the sound of the garter hooks as they clicked together. He selected a wide satin belt with two garters on each side. The metal hooks rattled deliciously as he drew it round his waist and began to attach the hooks to the row of eyes behind. It was a little more difficult than the bra, and he breathed in to locate the tightest row. The belt held him firmly around his middle, and he felt the familiar knot of excitement in the pit of his stomach as he thrilled to the sensation. His hard-on stuck straight out like a pole.

He turned for some panties to restrain his rampant member. His eyes lit on a folded pair of black panties, shiny and soft. He pulled them from the drawer, hardly daring to breathe as they fell open in his hands. They were beautiful: smooth thick silk, trimmed lightly in lace with a full back and rouched edging, a pretty bow in front. Samantha zonguldak escort must love wearing these. He brought them to his face and inhaled her heady perfume, and imagined what they might look like on her body. He stepped in, the weight of his erection slapping on his thigh, pulled them up tight between his legs and snapped the waistband over his now throbbing penis. He held it tight in one hand and ran the other over his ass, and fantasized it was Samantha’s he was fondling through the silk of her panties.

He checked over the balled-up hose, finding pair after pair of uninspiring pantyhose, until he unrolled a pair of black stockings, wonderfully sheer. He cupped one over his hands, then put a foot up on a stool by her dressing table to slip his foot inside the toe. He slid the fabric over his foot, lining the seam up at the heel, then feeding it out slowly as he drew it up his leg. Samantha had very small feet, and though his were not big for a man, he knew he would stretch them out if he were not careful. He smoothed the stocking up to his thigh and attached the front garter. He leaned his leg over to fix the one at the side, catching sight of himself in the mirror, then turned to the other stocking. His fingers trembled when he felt the cool air on nylon as he smoothed the second one up to the top and fastened it. He looked at himself in the mirror again as he turned to the last garter at the back. He had to admit he had very good legs.

Lastly, he fingered lightly through a collection of nylon slips and half-slips. He found one in a lovely pale pink with thin straps, lacy cups, and a richly-trimmed slash to the thigh. He stepped in and glided it up over the stockings, the cool fabric rustling delightfully as he slid the thin straps up to his shoulders, and smoothed the slip over his body. It was tight on him and his cock was a rigid bulge pressing at the front.

He looked in the mirror and nearly fainted at the wonderful sight of his smooth, tanned chest peeking above the lacy slip, the black underwear showing through: the shaped padded bra, the shiny satin of the garter belt drawn tight around his waist, the fastenings running to the wide dark edging on the charcoal stockings, their seams running down his long shapely legs, and his cock straining against the panties.

He ran a hand over it, feeling the heat as he thumbed the head, pushing up to the side of its silky prison. He lifted the hem of the slip to rub his balls from beneath with the other hand, fingers sliding across the panties at the very place where Samantha’s pussy would surely meet. He closed his eyes, lost in the fabulous indulgence.

Suddenly he heard the front door. They had returned early!

“Jonathan? You in?” called David.

There was no time to put everything back, he slid shut the drawer and scooted out of their bedroom, pulling off the slip straps and clawing the bra hooks behind his back. He called down the stairs as calmly as he could, “I’m up here, just getting a shower.”

“Okay, you had lunch?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, slipping into his own room, still wearing Samantha’s underwear. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

His heart was pounding. He saw himself in his own mirror, and realized how ridiculous he looked. His hard-on had faded completely as he stepped out of the slip and snatched off the bra, and unclipped the garter belt, rolling off the stockings without bothering with the clasps. He peeled off the panties and tossed everything in the hamper in the corner of the room. He heard footsteps up the stairs, and grabbed a towel off the bed to wrap himself quickly.

Samantha was headed for her bedroom. He felt a flush – had he left anything out? What if she looked in her drawer and saw everything had been rearranged? Would she notice the missing underwear? He had been a fool, a stupid fool. Why did he do such a thing to risk the friendship he had with these decent people? What would his friend think of the betrayal of their trust? He could never face either of them. He made a promise with himself never to do this again if only they didn’t notice this time. But it was so hard to resist.

“Jonathan, you there?”

Samantha was coming to his room. She must have seen her drawer and found out! His heart was in his mouth as she stuck her head round the door. She had changed into shorts and a loose top, and didn’t seem perturbed by his near nakedness. He drew the towel round, a little self-consciously. What would she say?

“Sure you don’t want lunch?”

He looked at her with guilt rising in him. She was so beautiful and innocent, how could he think of what he had done? What would she think if she knew?

“Thanks, maybe I will after all.”

David appeared behind her. “Our lunch date cancelled so we thought we’d come back. I see you settled in, you find everything okay?”

Jonathan stammered, “Yes.” If only David knew.

“I’m doing fethiye escort a wash,” said Samantha. She held a basket of clothes. “You got anything in here?”

She moved towards the hamper.

“No!” be blurted, stumbling to his feet. “I mean, I have a few things but I’ll sort them out later. Thanks.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Come down when you’re dressed.”

She went downstairs. Jonathan’s heart pounded.

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” David said. “I’m sorry but we have to leave you alone again, I asked Sam to run me to the garage and pick up my car, right after lunch.”

“That’s fine,” said Jonathan. “I’ll find something to do.”

So he had got away with it, this time. As soon as they were gone he would put the underwear back in their drawer, just as he found it, and never, ever, do that again.

He avoided meeting Samantha’s eyes at the lunch table. He couldn’t look at her and think of what he had done, wearing her private personal things, standing in her bedroom strapped into her bra, constricted by that satin garter belt, running his hands up his legs in her stockings, his cock confined in her panties. Her things. Her wonderful, wonderful things.

“Honey, could you take a look at the washer?” Samantha’s voice snapped him back to the moment. “The switch has gone again.”

“I’ll get to it later.”

“Is there something I could do?” suggested Jonathan, glad for the diversion.

“It’s nothing, just the ‘stat. I should change it but I never seem to get any free time around here.”

“You’re always busy doing something,” grinned Samantha. Jonathan caught the look between them and felt the jealousy again.

“If you’ve got some tools,” he offered, “I’ve got the rest of the day to myself, right?”

In the downstairs utility room, Samantha had sorted a heap of clothes into piles by the washer. Bed sheets and towels, David’s work shirts, skirts, dresses, and blouses, coloreds and cottons. There didn’t seem to be many of David’s things, now he looked. Jonathan went straight to a basket that pretty obviously contained ‘delicates’.

Bingo.

It was filled with Samantha’s underthings. The washing machine had evidently been out for a while; inside were slips, nightdresses, bras, pantyhose, and lots and lots of panties. This was better, she would never notice the clothes in the basket had been rearranged. Heck, if he could fix the washer he could get them cleaned and folded. But first things first.

His hands trembled as he ran through the basket, luxuriating in the silky feel of the fabrics in there. He picked out a pair of pantyhose and ran them across his cheek. He didn’t find wearing them too exciting, they seemed utilitarian, and of course left his cock out of easy reach, but he loved to see them on a woman’s smooth contours over her panties, and he did like the touch. He inhaled Samantha’s fragrance and sighed with pleasure and longing. He turned to the basket again.

A pair of white nylon panties sat crumpled on top. The gusset was exposed and showed a faint yellowish stain. This was almost imperceptible, Samantha kept herself clean and hygienic it was plain to see, yet his practiced eye knew the promise those panties could contain. He picked them up and stretched them over his fingers. Oh, yes, here was the spot her delicate pussy rubbed the panties, and he brought the crotch to his nose.

His head reeled, flooded with the faint but unmistakable odor of a woman’s personal scent. A sweet, wonderful woman. He inhaled again and again, drawing from the fabric the last traces of her womanly smell. His cock had become rigid, as nature intended it should.

Jonathan stripped off his clothes and stood over the basket. David and Samantha would be gone for the rest of the day, he had time enough.

Firstly he slipped on the white nylon panties. They felt cool on his skin. He squeezed his cock from inside and touched a finger between his legs under his balls, pressed right to the spot where the pussy mark was. He felt wicked. He picked out a small nylon bra to go with the panties, and deftly adjusted it to fit. He loved the constriction around his chest, where he felt his heart beating. He saw himself in a small mirror over the sink and turned about, admiring his own body in Samantha’s trim panties and bra.

As there were no stockings or a garter belt in evidence he decided to ring the changes, and pulled out the pantyhose he had fondled. He found oddly thrilling the impression of Samantha’s tiny feet stretched at the end. He rubbed the toes between his fingers, as if he was giving her a sensual massage. He didn’t need to worry about misshaping them, and rolled them up to place one foot in, then ran the leg up to his knee and started the other side. He rolled the pantyhose up his legs, feeding them past his thighs and tight to the crotch, smoothing each side up as much as he could, then huffling the top over his alanya escort hips and high around his waist. He smoothed the nylon over his panties where his cock strained for attention. He would wait this time, and simply savor the sensation of wearing Samantha’s dirty pretty things. He pulled out a long nightdress of dark blue satin, which he slid over his head and smoothed down. He now felt properly dressed for action.

He first had a job to do, and checked over the washer. The utility room tiles were cold under his nyloned feet, and he caught glimpses of himself in the mirror over the sink as he worked, his finely-muscled arms and broad chest straining from the silky nightdress. He knew David was not much of a practical guy, and had often teased him about it when they were growing up, but Jonathan had a natural way with machines and mechanics. This didn’t seem such a big deal, in half an hour he had the problem fixed. As he worked, he thrilled to the touch of satin, rustling over his pantyhosed legs, cool in the light breeze of every movement, his breathing slightly constricted by the tight bra. His penis scarcely reduced throughout, though he tried to give it no thought. At last he was done, and put the first load in to wash. Now he had time to himself.

He rinsed his hands in the utility room sink and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was a bad, bad boy. And a bit of a slut. He needed satisfaction.

Jonathan rooted through the laundry basket. He knew what he wanted, and Samantha had quite a range of panties, mostly workaday cotton, which seemed hardly to have been worn. He hadn’t noticed anything like that in her dresser. Like most young women these days she had a liking for thongs, but he never found them attractive. So uncomfortable, though he loved to run a finger over his college girlfriend’s nylon triangle at the back when she gave him head, tracing it down between her cheeks and pressing lightly to her pink hole there, just as he was ready to come. He loved to hold the thin strip tight over her pussy when he licked her clit as well, but definitely not to wear. He liked a full cut, that he could feel on his skin, that would hold everything in place. Like the black panties he found in Samantha’s bedroom drawer.

His fingers touched dampness at the bottom of the basket. Excitedly he drew out a pair of white nylon panties, almost literally soaking wet. Had Samantha been caught short and pissed herself wearing them? He held them to his nose and felt a dizzying rush. Wet through as they were, this was 100% pussy juice. He held the panties over his nose and inhaled deeply. Samantha’s odor stunned him with its sweet pungent scent. His head reeled, heart pounding. The smell was just fantastic. What had David done to make her so wet? His body coursed with uncontrollable lust. He slipped the panties over his face, pulling them tight at the back of his head, stretching the smooth damp fabric over his face and across the throat, his nose pressed to the moist cotton gusset. His open mouth sucked the front panel, lapping the juices from her adorable panties. His hand scrabbled under the nightdress he was wearing, stretching the pantyhose down to his thighs before diving in to his panties to grasp his stiff cock. He pumped feverishly, rocking back and forth, eyes closed.

“Oh, Jesus, Samantha, oh yes!” He opened his mouth wide and sucked at the wet panties, rubbing them over his face and his nose until he was completely intoxicated.

He felt as if Samantha herself was sitting over his face, smothering him with the sweet musky fragrance of her adorable pussy, her pussy that only David would see, that David fucked every night, that Jonathan wanted to fuck, that he felt he was fucking now as he smelt her juices and flashed his hand back and forth on his cock, faster and faster, panting and sucking the wet fabric over his face until with a groan his knees buckled and he ejaculated, firing hot jets of cum up over the edge of the sink, splashing the tiles and the faucet. He trembled in ecstasy for what seemed an age, his head swimming, his body jerking in shudders, his gasping breath sucking the panties in and out over his mouth.

Utterly spent, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, one eye peeping out through the leg of Samantha’s panties, and felt once again sudden guilt at his despicable actions.

He snatched the panties off his face and hung his head, still trembling with the force of that incredible orgasm. He couldn’t look at himself as he tossed the panties into the basket, wearily drawing the nightdress over his head and unclasping the bra. He peeled off the panties and hose, feeling deeply ashamed, then ran the faucet to clean up the sink. What was wrong with him, he gave in to this weakness every time.

He passed the afternoon watching TV, and though the temptation soon came back, he firmly resolved not to go into the master bedroom, or root through his host’s laundry again. He did a second wash but left aside the basket of delicates. He wished he had never found it.

Time dragged pretty slowly until he heard a car pull up in the drive. To his relief it was not Samantha but David. He somehow didn’t think he could be alone with her without blurting out something, or wondering in agony whether she suspected his perverted acts with her underwear.

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

Less than twenty-four hours after Daphne boarded the First Class flight to Los Angeles, Irene was recovered from her stomach bug. Matt, true to his word, paid Irene for her time, even though she was too sick to accompany him. I noticed a credit of eight thousand euros in our bank account, which was fair, considering my wife’s customary rate was two thousand per day.

I felt like we had got something for nothing, but Irene had the view that she had been shorted out of a fantastic vacation, by her untimely illness. Furthermore, after viewing Matt’s social media accounts, it was evident that Daphne had been a more than capable stand-in for my wife. The two of them had enjoyed a fantastic vacation in LA, and Daphne had satisfied Matt’s voracious sexual appetite, which was no small feat.

I sensed jealousy on Irene’s part, and she verbalized her concern that Daphne might end up taking her place, which was absolutely ridiculous. However, when Daphne got back from California, there was a different, almost competitive, vibe between them. In fact, the first time Daphne came over to our place, they tried to one-up each other, which was very humiliating for me.

As I listened on in disbelief, they both detailed their encounters with him, in excruciating detail, as if it were a dating competition.

“Matt took me in the gender-neutral restroom of the KLM First Class Lounge,” Daphne boasted. “He bent me over the marble countertop, slid my panties to one side, and blew his load inside me, within ten minutes of my arrival.”

“I sucked him off twice on a three hour flight to Las Palmas,” my wife countered. “Once in our First Class seats, and then again in the airplane bathroom.”

As I processed the mechanics of such a feat, Daphne was already answering, offering up an equally depraved account of something she had done for Matt. They were arguing like a couple of teenage rivals, and I finally had to leave the room, before I heard something I couldn’t forgive.

When I got to the safety of my bedroom, I repeated my wife’s assertion back in my mind. I have never been on a First Class flight, but have been routed through that exclusive area of the plane, numerous times when boarding. Even though the seats are wider, and the amenities are more luxurious, there is not much more privacy afforded, especially on a short-haul flight to the Canary Islands. If Irene had sucked her boss off on that flight, she must have put her head under a blanket to conceal her actions. I tried to imagine that smug prick looking around the First Class Cabin, maybe even making eye-contact with a fellow passenger or Flight Attendant, as my wife coaxed a load from his nuts, with her eager lips.

The second blowjob occurred in the restroom of the First Class Cabin, which seemed even seedier. The main difference between the restrooms in the different classes of an airplane, is the number of passengers using it. The First Class Cabin is much smaller, so there are typically no lines for the restroom. Once you get inside, however, it is still a confined space, and a blowjob conducted within this space, would require my wife to either sit on the toilet while her boss stood before her, or require her to kneel on the floor, as he relaxed on the toilet. Either way seemed like a very sordid act, and I wished I hadn’t heard that particular disclosure.

A few moments later, their argument had escalated, and I heard raised voices coming from the living room. I really didn’t want to intercede, but Daphne and Irene have been friends for a very long time, and I didn’t want them falling out over a man.

When I verbalized my concern, I was met with derision, as they both immediately agreed that Matt wasn’t just some man.

“Matt is one in a million,” my wife asserted, with no concern for my feelings. “He is tall, handsome, wealthy, muscular, well-endowed, intelligent and extremely passionate. Of course we are going to fight over him.”

“Meeting Matt was the defining moment of my life,” Daphne added. “I will do whatever it takes to keep him in my life.”

“Even if it means losing a life-long friend?” I asked, trying to inject some common sense in to the conversation.

Fortunately, my intervention worked, and Daphne and Irene reach an agreement whereby they would take turns to travel with Matt. This arrangement worked surprisingly well, and over the next few months my wife traveled to Copenhagen, Zurich and Brussels, while Daphne enjoyed some equally memorable European cities. Unfortunately, the second the stakes were raised, their uneasy alliance crumbled, and with a week-long trip to Rio de Janeiro on the table, they were back at each other’s throats.

By the terms of the rotation it was Irene’s turn to go. However, Daphne felt like she had some justification for the trip, as she spoke Portuguese, which would have been an asset to Matt. In the past, when the two of them had disagreed, Matt stayed out of it. He was a busy guy, constantly on the move and with too much on his plate to deal with petty squabbles. In fact the last time they had petitioned him for resolution, he had sent them giresun escort a group text.

“You bitches figure it out. Make sure I have a warm and agreeable body in my hotel bed by the time I get off work.”

Faced with that lack of involvement on his part, the girls flipped a coin, and Daphne got to go to Stockholm and warm Matt’s bed.

On this occasion however, presumably as it was a longer trip, Matt decided that he could use a little variety, and told them they could both go. I half expected him to split the fee, so it was a great surprise to see sixteen thousand euros appear in our checking account, as payment for the eight day trip.

Daphne and Irene, buoyed by the fact that they had each been paid the full appearance fee, huddled together over drinks at my house, to try and make it a regular occurrence.

“Let’s rock his world,” Irene offered, with way too much enthusiasm. “Make it so that he never even contemplates leaving one of us behind again.”

“Two heads are better than one,” Daphne responded with a giggle, looking at me for my response to her sexually charged innuendo.

While it was great news that the girls had put their differences behind them, and were willing to put on a united front, my mind turned to the mechanics of three-way sex. I had never had the experience, nor was ever likely to, but I had viewed enough porn to know that there were only so many ways that two women could pleasure a man, and many of them would be new to Irene. I felt that I should warn her, but Daphne seemed very much at ease with the whole scenario, so I remained silent.

It was gnawing away at me though, as one week in a luxury hotel afforded them a lot of playtime, and Matt was notoriously capable of pushing boundaries. When we got to bed that night, I carefully broached the subject, trying not to offend my wife’s sheltered sensibilities.

“Baby,” I began gently, “have you considered what your limits are while you are in Rio?”

“Matt told me not to concern myself with self-imposed limitations,” she said reflexively, as if she had decided to put her body in his hands.

“Okay,” I said, coming at it from a different angle, “let’s say Matt wants to titty-fuck Daphne? Where are you going to be during this scenario?”

“I haven’t thought much about it, Oscar,” she said defensively. “Matt always directs the show.”

“Yes, baby,” I countered, shocked at her nonchalant attitude to being ordered around in the bedroom. “However, having an extra female in the bed, offers up a plethora of very pleasurable options for an open-minded man. How about if Matt oils up your tits and starts to fuck them? Where are Daphne’s eager lips going to be?”

Irene, partly due to her sheltered upbringing, and partly due to our vanilla sex-life, had no clue where I was going with this. She had not been exposed to a lot of pornography, although Matt had rented three porno flicks when the three of us stayed in New York. I assume my wife and her boss watched them together, but as I had the opportunity to dissect the room bill, I noticed that they depicted cuckold sex. As this video showed sex acts between one man and one woman, it didn’t shed much light on the situation that I was envisioning.

It was clear to me that this question about the location of Daphne’s lips, went right over her head, so I grabbed my iPad to show her some of Matt’s possible expectations.

As I began to show my wife some clips of oral sex, the extent of her sheltered upbringing became more and more apparent. She didn’t even know the difference between the scrotum, the taint and the asshole, and I had to go over the very distinct areas of the male anatomy several times, before she understood.

“I think I will be okay if Matt asks me to suck his balls,” she told me, her innocent face in contrast with her lewd statement. “He keeps them closely shaved.”

“Irene,” I said quietly, “I just want you to know where everything is, so that you don’t get forced into doing something disgusting, that you may regret.”

I think my wife finally understood my drift, because the last clip I showed her, depicted a man straddling a young woman’s chest, titty-fucking her, as another young woman kissed him and nibbled his ear. Irene seemed unperturbed by this, until the man grunted something and the second woman scooted around behind him, and extending her tongue, disappeared between his ass-cheeks.

“Eww,” she exclaimed with disgust, “that is definitely not going to happen. That is a rim-job, right Oscar?”

I nodded my head, grateful that my wife had some pre-determined sexual limits. While this was the reaction I was hoping for, I also knew that in the privacy of a luxury hotel suite, with a few alcoholic drinks to grease the wheels, and the added component of Irene being in competition with Daphne for Matt’s affection, anything was possible. So, it was with some reservations, that I loaded my wife’s suitcases into the Town Car that arrived in my driveway, to take them to the airport for their flight to Rio.

Matt yalova escort didn’t even bother to get out of the car, such was his disdain for me, and after Irene and her luggage were safely on board, the car disappeared down my driveway.

I can’t say with any certainty what happened on that week-long trip to Rio, but from that day forward, Daphne and Irene accompanied Matt every time he travelled, for both work and pleasure. He paid my wife the same rate, two thousand euros a day, whatever the purpose of the trip, and we slowly got on our feet financially.

About a year after Daphne and Irene started traveling with Matt, my wife and I were invited to a wedding, and much to my chagrin, Matt was also invited. The plot thickened when I found out that Daphne and her husband were also invited. This made the whole prospect of attending more palatable to me, as Daphne’s husband and I were good friends.

As the day approached, I noticed that Irene had gone through a similar physical transformation that she went through for her business trips with Matt. She had shaved her pussy completely bald, had added nail extensions, and had generally made herself as feminine as possible. When we arrived at the wedding the dynamic changed, as I noticed that Daphne had elected to attend without her husband.

Daphne looked amazing in a form-fitting silk dress, that showcased her body and accentuated her curves. As soon as we saw Matt, the dynamic became even more awkward, as it quickly became apparent that Daphne and Irene were vying for Matt’s attention.

Daphne clearly had the advantage as she had attended the ceremony alone, whereas Irene had me slowing down her game. Daphne’s body language was definitely that of being completely available, and to my surprise this evoked a territorial response from my wife.

Irene was very touchy-feely with Matt, hanging all over him, acting as an effective cock-block for her best friend. At one point I thought I sensed a vibe between the two women, but just a few minutes later they were chatting and laughing, and had apparently made up. I saw them get a drink together and converge on Matt.

A few moments later I realized that I had lost sight of my wife, and shortly afterwards I realized that Daphne was gone also. I had no idea where they had disappeared to, so I had a cursory look around the place. I checked in a few of the empty rooms and then looked in the gender-neutral bathrooms, to no avail. After almost an hour of looking for my wife, I started to wonder if maybe the three of them had left the wedding. In desperation, I began to ask total strangers if they had seen my wife and Daphne. I described my wife and her best friend to multiple people, before I finally got a lead.

“I saw the two of them heading down the garden towards the Summer House,” one particularly helpful young woman told me. “With a very handsome, well-built man.”

My heart sank when I realized that they were with Matt, and a few moments later I stumbled across the Summer House, at the very end of the long garden. I had no clue that anyone was in there at first, the secluded wooden structure having no lights on, and some of the curtains being drawn.

As I approached the front door of the Summer House, I heard the unmistakable sound of my wife climaxing. It was a loud shriek of ecstasy, followed by a lengthy proclamation of her love for Matt, and it cut me to the core. We had attended a wedding as a couple, and my wife was too fucking selfish to put her needs aside for the afternoon, and focus on the lifelong commitment that this young couple were making to each other.

I had a brief flashback to my own wedding day, fifteen years ago. I felt such pride as I took Irene as my lawful wedded bride, knowing that I was her first, and presumably last, lover. I would never have imagined that it would be her boss that was pushing her boundaries, enjoying all of her other “firsts,” and spending our subsequent wedding anniversaries balls-deep in my wife.

That was his plan though, to enjoy my wife on every one of our future wedding anniversaries, at some fancy resort. Not content with cock-blocking me on my own anniversary, Matt was now enjoying his conjugal rights, on someone else’s wedding day, using my wife.

I followed the sounds of their love-making until I reached the living room of the Summer House. There was a window that afforded me an unobstructed view of their encounter, and I peered through jealously, like a peeping Tom.

Irene was naked except for her garter-belt, stockings and bra, and was laying on the living room floor, on her back. Matt, still wearing his shirt and tie, but naked from the waist down, was on top of her, apparently balls-deep in my wife. Irene had wrapped her legs tightly around his muscular ass, her heels locked together as if she was imploring him to remain coupled indefinitely. Matt was rocking slowly forward, his impressive member no doubt nudging against her cervix, as he touched places within her that I could never hope to reach.

He was grinding yozgat escort his pelvis into her too, creating a constant pressure on her swollen clitoris, that was driving her crazy with desire. A few moments later she exploded in another very vocal orgasm, digging her manicured nails into his shoulder blades, as she came all over his cock. Matt was like a machine, his stamina and physical prowess on display, as he fucked the crap out of my wife.

As raw as the physical act was, it was also tinged with a beautiful sense of intimacy, two lovers intertwined, having blocked out the rest of the world, as they focused on the undeniable chemistry between them. Matt and Irene would kiss tenderly between her orgasms, the unmistakable connection being strengthened with each touch of their lips.

As he resumed his rhythmic grinding, I saw her close her eyes, and throw her head back in pure ecstasy. It was as if she was struggling to process the overwhelming sensory delights, the mechanical stimulation of her genitals, the seduction that he had employed to possess her, the all-encompassing love that she felt for someone that could make her feel so good. Matt was truly owning my wife, and she would have done anything for him in that moment.

I watched the pleasure on her face as she approached her next orgasm, and then she opened her eyes, raised her lips to his ear, and began to mumble incoherently, as she climaxed. Her vocal proclamations got louder as she came, and I was embarrassed to hear what she had to say.

“I love you Matt. Please don’t ever leave me, I beg you,” she cried as she climaxed.

Matt, ever the opportunist, was whispering something inaudible to me, in my wife’s ear, and she responded enthusiastically.

“Yes, baby. If that’s what you want, of course. It’s yours. I will do whatever you want me to in bed, as long as you promise never to leave me.”

I had never seen my wife so excited, so enraptured by another human being, so focused on another man’s pleasure. It was as if they were the only two people on earth.

That is why it was so surprising to me when Daphne emerged from the bathroom, clad only in her garter-belt, stockings and her matching bra. She knelt down next to Matt and my wife, as they continued to fuck.

“I think it’s my turn, baby,” she said seductively, as she ran her nails up Matt’s thighs.

Matt whispered something else to my wife, and she reluctantly unhooked her heels to enable Matt to uncouple. Daphne extended her hand to Matt, helped him to his feet and the two of them left the room. Irene got up slowly, quite shaky and unsteady as she stood, before following them into the other room.

By the time I located them, they were in the master bedroom. I positioned myself right outside a small window that looked into the bedroom.

There was a woman up on the bed in the doggy-style position, and Matt was fucking her from behind. From my vantage point facing Matt’s back, I couldn’t really see who it was getting fucked. However, as my eyes wandered the room, I saw Daphne’s bra hanging over the back of the chair, that was next to the bed.

I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as I realized that it wasn’t my wife who was getting pounded, doggy-style. This relief was very short-lived however, as I moved to a different window to get a view of them from the side. This window was slightly ajar, and in addition to providing me with the soundtrack of Daphne and Matt’s coupling, it enabled me to see Irene lying on her back, underneath the two of them as they fucked. Irene had also removed her bra, although this appeared to have been a more hasty decision, as it was tossed on the floor. Inexplicably, Irene had also raised her head from the bed, and was eating her best friend’s pussy, with considerable enthusiasm.

From the side profile, Matt’s muscular physique was much more evident, his triceps flexing as he grabbed Daphne’s hips and pounded into her. Daphne was thoroughly enjoying getting fucked and eaten out simultaneously, as evidenced by her moans and cries of delight.

The Summer House was built to maximize light rather than warmth, and for that reason, particularly as it was used primarily in the summer months, there were a lot of windows on all four sides of the structure.

Matt was engrossed in his enjoyment of the two women, and I didn’t have to worry too much about being discovered, as I circled the building in search of the best vantage point.

By the time I had selected the best window to peer through, Daphne had enjoyed another orgasm on my wife’s face, and she was also one step closer to agreeing to fulfill any of Matt’s desires, no matter how depraved.

Matt generously allowed Daphne to enjoy three orgasms, before he decided he wanted more. As I witnessed his selfless love-making style, I wondered if his concern for the pleasure of his partners yielded him a greater return in the long run, both in the number of his orgasms, and the depravity of the sex acts that they were willing to engage in, out of pure gratitude. Not that I was going to have an epiphany, and suddenly become an altruistic, world-class lover, like Matt. I reached orgasm way too quickly for that, and was unable to even satisfy my own wife. In fact the only time I ever made Irene orgasm was when I went down on her, and I believe her sexual release was due, in part, to her thrill that I was eating her boss’ semen from her, right after he had used her.

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

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

CHAPTER 3: Malfunction

I resolved to make the best of the situation, but even trying my hardest, it was a tough 24 hours. After Dr. Popova ended our video chat, I did everything I could to take my mind off my situation: my junk was trapped in some diabolical medical diagnostic device. I was being blackmailed by a questionable Russian medicine practice in the middle of a pandemic. And all now that my chastity fantasies were starting to come true I was seriously in lust with my tormentor, Dr. Popova. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was desperate for some relief.

I thought about calling Kat, my last…, well, not girlfriend exactly. Hookup. Work friend. Whatever. I thought about calling her to see if we could do some dirty FaceTime but then I realized I couldn’t show her any of the locks on my junk and I couldn’t cum regardless, so I gave up on that idea. I tried working. I tried Netflix. I tried ordering my favorite quarantine takeout. Nothing worked. I tried to sleep, but the sirens outside and the relentless pulsing of the diagnostic cuff and cage that held my manhood made that close to impossible. Finally I took some nighttime cold medicine and was able to pass out for a few hours.

As I neared the 24 hour mark, I was excited to complete the diagnostic tests. Dr. Popova had said she would be in touch when that happened, and I was eager to be done with this, eager to get the devices off, eager to see her, eager for my reward, though I was beginning to doubt that the doctor and I shared the same ideas about what my reward might be.

Twenty-four hours passed. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. All the while the machine was pulsing slowly on my cock and balls. The action was slow and steady. Firm enough to keep me aroused, never strong enough to tip me over. And I noticed something else: whenever I was able to master my mind and stop paying attention to my cock long enough to get a bit soft, the machine would change patterns, speed, pressure. I think it was determined to keep my attention on my cock.

I was going crazy.

When I hit the 27-hour mark, I couldn’t wait any longer. I went to my desk, opened my laptop, and logged in to Dr. Popova’s telemedicine clinic. As usual, I was greeted by the chatbot. No matter what I tried though, I couldn’t make the chatbot understand that I needed to speak with Dr. Popova.

I was just about to give up in despair when I saw an email notification: Dr. Popova has sent me a new message! Hurriedly I opened it.

Jonathan Barker,

Your physician, Dr. Anna Popova has requested that we notify you with a status update regarding your diagnostic procedure. We have determined that due to your particular anatomical configuration, we must send you an additional piece of diagnostic equipment in order to complete your assessment. We understand that this may cause some inconvenience to you, so we have taken steps to ensure the device will be delivered within the next 24 hours. We apologize for this unavoidable delay.

Please contact erzurum escort us immediately upon receipt of the additional equipment so that we can proceed with your diagnosis.

Sincerely,

Telemedicine Partners

I read the email again, digesting this new information. I now had an extra day to wait before I could have any relief. I felt desperate, but I was also without options. I couldn’t remove the device myself. I couldn’t get relief because I couldn’t get enough stimulation—and even if I did, I would expose myself to my blackmailers. All I could do was lie on the bed with my eyes closed, trying not to think of my cock. Trying not to picture Dr. Popova. Dr.Anna Popova. Trying not to picture her lips on my cock, her tits in my hands…

—-

The next day, UPS brought me two more packages from Telemedicine Partners. I opened the first, a small padded envelope. The packing slip described the contents as “Magnetic Charging Cable, Telemedicine Diagnostic Cuff v.3.”

The second package contained another locked black box. I immediately logged on to the web site and told the chatbot, “Please tell Dr. Popova that the diagnostic device has arrived.”

Moments later, there she was, smiling at me from the video chat window.

“Hello Jonathan, you poor dear. You must be going crazy waiting for this procedure to be complete.”

“I am Doctor. I’m very glad to see you,” I said.

“Thank you Jonathan. Let’s not waste any more time now. Do you have the package and are you ready to open it?”

I was holding it, and I nodded and held it up to show her. Moments later, I heard the latch click and I opened the box. What I saw filled me with a mix of dread and excitement.

“Dr. Popova…” I said. “Is this…?”

“Yes Jonathan. It does look very much like an anal probe, doesn’t it? That’s because it is an anal probe. You will be required to insert it in order to complete the diagnostic procedure.”

I felt despair.

“Because of your specific anatomy,” she paused and leaned in with a smile on her face. “Jonathan, it’s because of your small American penis,” she laughed, “we needed to send a supplemental sensor, and in order for it to receive accurate readings, it needs to be inserted into your anal cavity. Now hurry off to your bedside and get your personal lubricant so we can get on with this.”

I looked more closely at the device. Black, smooth, silicone, it was most definitely a butt plug. And it was not small. A flexible tail extended from the back, which I held up to show her.

“That looks a bit like a tail, doesn’t it Jonathan? That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” She laughed and waited for me to say anything, but I was silent, not meeting her eye. So she continued, “It’s only the connection to the cuff. It will wrap underneath you and connect to the cuff magnetically, and that will allow it to transmit sensor data.”

I paused to take this all in.

“Jonathan, eskişehir escort go get the lubricant,” she prompted me again.

When I got back, she said, “Jonathan, I am going to tell you something important now. On our first call, you refused to show me your virgin pink American asshole. Do you remember that, Jonathan?”

I nodded.

“That was a mistake. I do not like it when people refuse to do what I ask. I determined then that you would show me your asshole, and now that is what you are going to do.”

I swallowed hard. The cuff and cage were still pulsing on my cock and balls. Dr. Popova’s threat scared me, but made me hard as well.

“Jonathan, I am telling you this now for your sake. Do you really think we needed extra diagnostic sensors? Of course we didn’t. I just needed an excuse so that I could get you to open your asshole for me, do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I will continue to ask you to do things for me, Jonathan. If you do these things for me, you will always get a reward. But if you do not—if you refuse me, you will make things harder for yourself. And you will end up doing the things I want in any case, because I will always find a way to get you to do what I want. Is that clear?”

I nodded again. The seriousness of my situation was coming into clearer focus. I had thought that this would be over soon enough. That when the tests were complete, Dr. Popova would release me and we’d each go on our way. But she’d just said that this was going to continue. And she was holding all the cards. I was stunned. Too stunned to say anything. Too stunned to move.

And for fuck’s sake I was turned on as hell.

“Jonathan, would you like me to tell you what to do next?”

I desperately did want that. “Yes Dr. Popova, please tell me what to do.”

“Oh Jonathan, it makes me so happy when you say that. Now, listen carefully…”

I followed her instructions. Lube the plug. Lube my ass. Turn around. Bend over so the camera can see. Put the plug in my ass.

That last part? Easier said than done. I placed the point of the plug at my back door and pushed. This was entirely new for me—Dr. Popova was right about my virgin American asshole. And she was going to watch as I lost my cherry. I pushed harder.

“Jonathan, are you having trouble?” she laughed.

“Doctor I’ve never done this before,” I tried to explain.

“Oh my god I was right!” she exclaimed. Was she clapping her hands? I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined her delight at my predicament.

“OK Jonathan,” she said, “just press down and slowly move the probe in and out. It will go in eventually.”

I felt the plug stretching me as I worked it in. I moved it back and forth. It felt weird and it felt good. It burned and it stretched. I started fucking myself gently with the tip of the plug, keeping time to the pulsing cuff and cage on my cock. “Oh god,” I groaned.

“That’s good, Jonathan,” gaziantep escort she said. “Go slowly now. In and out. In, Jonathan. Out. Push just a little further each time.” When it was almost all the way in she said, “Now, push it all the way, Jonathan. Do it!”

I pressed and felt the plug pop into place. I gasped.

“Oh Jonathan, how beautiful!” she said, sounding so happy for me. “Now, take the tail in your hand, Jonathan and connect it to the cuff,” she said.

I did, feeling the magnetic connection click sharply into place. And instantly, the probe sprang to life, pulsing gently in the same rhythm as the cuff and cage.

“Turn around and sit in your desk chair now, Jonathan,” she said. “I will explain the rest of the procedure to you. And I want to see your face as I explain your situation to you.”

Again, I followed her orders. I sat, feeling the chair press against the plug, pushing it deeper into my ass. Everything was throbbing now—my cock, my balls, my ass. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last.

“Dr. Popova, please!” I begged. “It’s been days. I’ve followed your instructions. Please let me remove all of your equipment. I’m begging you.”

“Are you done?” she said, suddenly cold again.

I said nothing.

“Jonathan, I asked you if you were finished with your little outburst?” she said.

I nodded meekly. The machines pulsed gently on my cock and balls. I was a wreck.

“That is good, because I have just been very very kind to you—taking your virginity so beautifully. That was a truly beautiful moment I just gave to you Jonathan. And what do you do in return? You whine like a little bitch,” she said. She paused then, and made a show of regaining her composure, squaring her shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“So now I guess we must get back to business. There will be no further reward for you today. I will simply explain how your new diagnostic probe works and then we will end our call.”

“Oh god, Doctor,” I said. I couldn’t help myself.

“Yes it is a shame,” she said, “but it can’t be helped.” She paused and then continued, “Your new diagnostic probe is similar to the cuff and cage that you are wearing. It measures certain vital body activity, and transmits data back to us. It is now beginning a cycle of measurement that should be done…” she paused and looked at her watch, “in less than a day.”

I groaned and she looked at me sharply. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” I said.

“Now this device is a little bit different than the other two. You may remove it whenever you wish and you may keep it removed for up to 15 minutes every hour. This will give you time to go to the bathroom, wash yourself, and then to reinsert the device. But I do have to warn you Jonathan, if you do not reinsert the probe and re-attach it to the cuff in a timely manner, the cuff will go into self-preservation mode. Do you remember how painful self-preservation mode is?”

I did. The memory filled me with horror. “Yes doctor, I remember.”

“Good,” she said. “I will be back in touch when the diagnostics are complete, probably within 24 hours. I will see you then.”

The screen went black. The cuff and cage pulsed slowly. The plug kept pace. My cock was harder than it’s ever been. I was leaking pre-cum all over the cage. This lockdown routine felt like it would go on forever.

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