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Big-Bear-Lake Orgy Parties · CA, USA
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rizla: Orgy orgy orgy
11 Months Ago
bsteegs30: Hey I'm snowboarding at big bear right now if anyone wants to meet up and party
12 Years Ago
arcemedes23196: Looking forward to having fun with the girls that like a big badass Irish Cherokee Texan Teddy Bear with a 6'4" body and a seven and a half inch cock that comes with a laid back and easy going personality.
2 Years Ago
charliecumboi: Looking to find a bunch of dudes with big cocks that would be interested in tag teaming my clean white sloppy ass Bear back of course and throat fuck me double and triple penetration I want to be your cum slut if someone wanted to film it that would be great I very Deep greedy ass Shoot me a text or whatever
8 Months Ago
partynight: Where the f*** are all orgy sex parties in Cairns Far North Queensland it's got to be someone out there that's just as keen as us were the big cocks and wet pussys
9 Months Ago
G0B1ND1KZ: I want to suck big fat dicks in a bukkake as a woman and get plastered in cum any amount of men but only big dick bastards that can teach me a lesson for being a slutty cd cum pig whore!I want them to destroy me it has to be a rough hard core event skull fucking my brains out and throat fucking me good,I often think about a big dick cumming towards me and on my knees and my mouth wide open tounge out he promptly puts his helmet in my mouth and bang one firm thrust straight down my throat and the bastard cums straight away filling my throat and he pulls out very fast and slaps me across the face as i am left there cum dribbling down my chin hanging off it in thick white strings and same hanging from my nostrils as I find my self getting the same from the next dick one huge thrust another cum load fills my throat and so it goes on then after I have to use my mouth to suck like a slag circled by big dicks sucking taking skull fucks throat too wanking big dicks off all at the same time and it takes a long time to finish them a second time.They leave me as a cum soaked mess then I get a face full of warm piss and then they take turns as smaller groups emptying bladders in my face mainly and in my mouth I spit it out and I drink lots of it.
4 Years Ago
gregorysalter05: I never had an orgy. I’ve had 3 sums. I’d like to have a big nasty orgy! With clean, healthy people.
2 Years Ago
pablogarcia07199: Never been in a 3 sum or orgy and I think I'm ready to expand my sex life so I day like fun open to trying a big orgy
2 Years Ago
ashton187: Locals by the lake that lake that like to partake
10 Months Ago
BigKink69: Headed to lake keowee my spot on the lake near Seneca anybody want to join
9 Months Ago
chummybear2014: Athletic‚ outgoing with a great sense of humor. Just like a cuddly teddy bear.
56 Years Ago
chummybear2014: Athletic‚ outgoing with a great sense of humor. Just like a cuddly teddy bear.
56 Years Ago
fuckspusssy554: Any body bear me who wants to hook up
10 Years Ago
black bear: I am in need of a lady who knows how to please a man . black bear
10 Years Ago
MrBearFux: Just here to find younger sluts to fuck - really horny old bear
3 Years Ago
bigboobluver19: Please bear with me, I am having issues getting my messages. I will get back to you soon.
2 Years Ago
NerdyBiBear: Horny fuck bear looking to fuck Mass local women or get fucked by Mass local men. Hmu at my email nerdybibear@gmail.com
11 Months Ago
charliecumboi: Message me, I really wanna hear from.Maybe I can get Ask fucking public and I really mean that i'm Live in South Dakota.My name is charli want.
Some serious a** f****** stretching balls of balls of bear back.F****** my a** pulling out and I'm coming down.My throat repeatedly
9 Months Ago
GayBear: Gay stocky bear guy looking for hot fun
6 Months Ago
shardaye5: Where are the orgy parties?
12 Years Ago
Big-Bear-Lake Orgy Parties CA USA
The Facesitting Bar
The Facesitting Bar · BDSM · n the wintery sunlight of the next morning, the thrill of the Facesitting bar seemed like a distance memory. Natalie waited nervously at the park, perched on the wall in her black puffer jacket, blue jeans and trainers. Her nerves jangled as Jake approached, unable to believe what they had done together the night before.
"Yes, it really happened," Jake smiled, unwrapping his scarf to reveal the depiction of a female bum padlocked around his neck.
"You're still wearing it?" Natalie grinned, she seemed to take it as a compliment.
"That's how far my hacksaw got last night," Jake replied, pointing to a slight scratch on one of the heavy steel links.
"The key..." she whispered.
"...is at your flat, yes I know."
Natalie looked younger without the makeup of the day before, and the pop socks, ponytail and freckles gave her air at odds with Jake's memory from the bar. As Jake's attention turned to her jean covered hips, Natalie leaned to the side, lifting one cheek to reveal the crushed teddy bear from the bar.
"You left it when we kissed last night," she whispered.
"I see you kept it company."
Natalie nodded, she could feel herself blushing, at least Jake didn't know that the small bear had spent the night inside her nightie. She rolled her hips back down, flattening the small bear once more.
"Fuck, Nat," Jake breathed, his erection caught up in his designer jeans, "That bear seems to act like a voodoo doll."
Natalie smiled. If only that had been true last night. She swung her pop socks and trainers innocently against the wall, as both the crushed bear and Jake's mind performed imaginary oral sex beneath her tightly stitched up jeans.
"Let's walk," Jake insisted, taking Natalie's slim hand and pulling her to her feet. Their lips came close, but both were unsure what to do. They smiled shyly as Jake rescued the small bear from the wall only to discover that the Natalie had padlocked a small chain around its neck too.
"That's cute," Jake laughed.
He looked back up at Natalie who was now running a small silver key between her discretely glossed lips.
"Is that my key? Jake asked.
Natalie grinned provocatively as she dropped the key inside the front of her jeans.
"I guess we both need to keep you close," Jake whispered, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her into his body as they kissed.
He looked back at the bear with a shake of his head and laughed. Its tiny neck was crushed by the short chain that she had wrapped tightly around three times and padlocked in place.
"You're a dangerous woman, Natalie."
"He tried to resist me," she replied in a breathless whisper.
"Did he?" Jake smiled, "And now his key is..."
"Gone," she mouthed as she stole the bear from Jake's grip and stuffed it headfirst into the front pocket of her jeans.
"Not helpful, Nat," he winced, adjusting his entangled erection while staring distractedly at the padded feet protruding helplessly from Natalie's tight jeans.
"Would you like me to tell you what's he's doing in there?" she teased, watching Jake's lips closely in the hope of another kiss.
"Stop it Nat!"
Natalie just giggled as he took her hand and led her through the park.
*
Jake and Natalie sat down to eat at the café, but the conversation kept pausing as they watched each other, memories of the night before playing out through their eyes. Jake pulled his stool closer, studying her expression as they kissed. He slid his hand up her leg and squeezed it down between her warm denim covered thighs.
"I can't stop thinking about yesterday," he whispered.
"There's so much more I could do to you next time," she replied.
"And you look so innocent..."
She shook her head with waves of blow-dried brown hair, "I'm not."
Jake pushed deeper between her thighs until he touched the bear's crush nose that just peeked out from beneath her butt.
"I should report you to Amnesty," he whispered, "Bear cruelty."
"I'll do a prisoner exchange," Natalie breathed, her glossed lips twitching.
"You want to condemn me to being trapped, crushed and pleading for breath?" Jake mouthed the words slowly, watching the effect they were having on her body and her slowly blinking blue eyes.
"You'll become part of me..." Natalie could almost feel his warm breath on her naked vagina.
"I won't be able to kiss your lips from down there."
"Oh yes, you will."
Jake kissed her again, a strange confidence was brimming in her lust filled eyes. Her lips were parted and her breathing heavy with soft shrill moans. Natalie raised her eyebrows and trembled as she touched her own lips.
"Yeah, I am kind of jealous of the bear," Jake smiled.
"He has only one purpose in life," Natalie mouthed, thrusting her hips against the bear.
"And that will be my life?"
"Until I release you... which I may never do," Natalie could feel her whole body lighting up as she wrapped her hands around Jake's wrist and squeezed her legs together to ensure that Jake's hand couldn't escape from between her thighs.
*
Jake and Natalie were the first people to arrive at the Facesitting bar. Natalie once again waited until Jake was safely inside and the heavy metal door had clanked closed behind him. She knew he would be waiting for her, the bar having a reputation of persuading guys not to back out from their female serving obligations.
The curvy blonde woman again greeted Jake.
"Oh, its 'Natalie's guest'," she smiled, her large thighs curving out from beneath a white mini rara skirt only slightly less intimidating that the leather she wore the night before.
"It's Jake," Jake replied, hoping her nickname for him might change.
"I think it's, Natalie's 'bitch'!" the woman exclaimed, seeing the chain and plaque still firmly padlocked around his neck, "Now why would Natalie be mean enough to keep you in that chain?"
"Too busy being wined, dined and spoilt?" Jake suggested.
"No. Girls usually like that," the woman replied, "Maybe you didn't give her want she wanted?"
"She got what she wanted," Jake smiled smugly.
The woman rolled her eyes. Arrogant men didn't always fare too well in her bar, "You know, we have a special box in the bar for unwanted keys," she smiled, taking slipping her hand around Jake's chain, "It's called the bin."
Jake climbed into the box, his head tilting slightly forward on the shaped foam, as he waited for the curvy woman to close his lid. Once again, she locked it with the magical key that appeared and disappeared from between her breasts.
"Shall I teach you how to serve?" she asked.
The voluptuous woman placed one foot either side of his head and rocked her hips to the slow rhythm in her head as she sat down. Her skirt was so short that Jake's face slipped straight beneath it, to be met with her warm satin panties. The room fell quiet as his mumbled words and breath were lost to the world beneath.
She slid backward to reveal dazed eyes, "Lick," she whispered.
Completely intimidated by her position, he followed her instructions precisely, pushing out his tongue, touching and flicking as she directed. Slower, faster, he followed exactly as the moans above him grew louder and the woman's body trembled until she climaxed.
Wow, Natalie hadn't reacted like that and it felt wonderful to be part of such genuine delight. He wanted to look up and enjoy the moment with her, but her large thighs closed on him like a privacy screen.
"Honour Natalie like that," she breathed, "and maybe I'll get my chain back."
*
Jake felt his box move and the lights in the bar shine down into his eyes. Again, he gasped, both thrilled and terrified, totally vulnerable to whoever was waiting for him in the bar.
Within seconds everything went black as he was plunged back into the silk and flesh underworld. Natalie's soft curves had a way of sealing in completely as she sunk down lovingly on to his face.
"Nat?" he mouthed silently, nothing more than a gentle vibration through her flesh.
He was now the bear, effectively an inanimate object until she let him go. She shifted slightly, but only to ease her lingerie to the side so he could slide further between her cheeks. She was teasing him, tensing and releasing her glute muscles, twisting his face into strange shapes. She seemed to now have him where she wanted him, and she relaxed her body to settle down even closer.
Finally, she shuffled back and opened her legs a little so see Jake's blinking eyes looked up from between her warm thighs. She leaned forward, long dark hair hanging down over her shiny blue dress.
"Do you like my new dress?" she whispered excitedly, "And my new panties..."
Jake grinned; her excitement was contagious.
"Don't we fit well?" she beamed, "Your nose just there!"
The sultry and sensual woman of that morning had bust into life.
Jake stretched out his tongue, catching the seam of her white silk lingerie and exploring her shaved crotch inside. He flicked up as the curvy woman had instructed, drawing a cry of delight from Natalie. He repeated his move until Natalie tried to slow her growing arousal by sliding forward and sitting bolt upright on his face.
She glanced down at the frantic moans beneath her and lifted herself up break the flesh seal between them, "Sorry," she whispered huskily, sliding back to reveal one of Jake's eyes blinking up between her thighs, "Do that thing you did again..."
She spread her legs to let Jake run his tongue across her vagina. She leaned forward to feel his lips against her. Alone in the bar, she pushed herself into him, willing him deeper and closer as she climaxed. Her whole body was on a high, her glutes, her thighs and core muscles gently releasing and floating down to meld with Jake's face.
She gently sipped at her cocktail as she tried to stop her body from trembling. She was infatuated by Jake and the amazing high he had given her. She shifted slightly and cracked open her thighs to free his lips.
"I can't see you, Nat," Jake panted, again wanting to share the moment with the woman.
"Blinded by my beaty," Natalie giggled.
She sipped her drink again and waited for a few minutes before exclaiming in a hushed whispered, "Wow, look at that!"
"What? Where?"
She giggled silently. This was so much fun!
*
An hour later and Natalie still hadn't moved. She had pulled her dress down over her thighs, leaving Jake inside a hot and sultry cavern. He was desperately trying to obey her command of giving her one thousand kisses, but every time she moved or talked to him, he lost count and had to start again.
Natalie wasn't the only one sexually exhausted. Jake's cock was aching from repeated masturbation and his damp tissues did little as he blindly tried to wipe himself clean inside his box. He had to break this woman's spell before he lost control completely. He fumbled to button up his jeans and attempted to reason with the sex bunny on his face.
"Natalie?" he panted, fittingly using the full name for the woman who could control his world with just a flick of her hips, "Can I take you to dinner?"
"What about the prisoner swap?" she smouldered, "You sacrificed yourself for the bear."
"I'll go down on you at the restaurant," Jake pleaded, unable not to touch himself again as he moaned desperately into her immovable body.
Natalie pulled back her dress, widened her legs and grinned self-consciously through perfect white teeth, "I just can't stop shaking."
"Me too."
"I've had too many cocktails."
"Let me spoil you some more, Nat."
"Can I shower first?" she asked timidly, "I'm a little...wet."
She stood up and eased her dress back into place around her glowing thighs. She felt dizzy, steadying herself on the box as she crouched down to kiss him. She wobbled back on to her feet and again pulled the pesky blue fabric back down over her thighs. She hiccupped, giggled and slinked away.
*
Jake felt his box roll back through the wall and back into the room with the curvy and increasingly amorous blonde.
"Natalie's guest," she smiled.
"Thanks for the lesson," Jake replied.
"So, we have a happy and satisfied Natalie?" she asked.
"Oh yeah," Jake replied smugly.
"Is that why she's given instructions for you to stay locked up in your box?"
"What?"
The woman read from her phone, "Natalie box locked. Await further instructions."
"What? Why?" Jake cried in disbelief. He pointlessly tried to prise open his lid, stopping only when the short white skirt sat down on the edge of his box.
"Natalie wants you to wait for her," the woman whispered, edging closer, her thigh warm against his cheek, "Do you really want to disappoint her?"
"Of course not," Jake replied.
"Good. Just think how happy she'll be knowing that you've given up your freedom for her."
Jake's distracted eyes had already wondered up the woman's curvy legs and up inside her dress, and by the time he realised it was too late.
"Naughty," she reprimanded, lifting her skirt, swinging her hips and sitting squarely on his face.
*
Natalie skipped home and showered. Even the hot water couldn't quell her excitement. She dressed in fresh underwear and then squeezed back into the same short blue dress with the same beads around her neck. She slipped on her black jacket and hurried back to the bar.
The street was empty as she knocked on the metal door and was led inside the men's entrance by the blonde woman. Jake stared up, excited to see the only woman with the authority to unlock his box.
"Nat, why are you here?"
"I thought we could try one of their other services," she replied, stepping with her pantyhose covered legs in an attempt to warm up.
"Other services?" Jake asked.
The curvy woman appeared with a bunch of keys, "We chain lovers together...
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2)
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale Part 2) · Fetish · Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read part 1 first so this makes more sense!
I am splashing over the rocks, my hands outstretched as I try to catch a fish. I have been on my own for two weeks, hiding during the day under clumps of ferns or blackberry bushes. My mother would not recognize me now with my tangled filthy hair and clothing torn to ribbons. I hiss as the river’s grainy water stings the cuts on my arms. With a lunge, I catch the fish, crouching to devour it as it squirms in my hands.
Men’s voices rise behind me as heavy boots crash through the brush. I drop my fish and dash for the forest, zigzagging through the trees. The dog is howling as it catches my scent. Sprinting for a tree with low enough boughs, I grab for a branch, dragging myself up as my legs kick the air.
Sudden teeth sink into my ankle. I scream as the dog yanks at me, its weight dragging me down. I land on my chest, air exploding from my lungs.
Hands grab at me as the yipping dog is kicked back. A knife is sawing at the remains of my shirt, ripping the fabric from my body. My bra is cut and flung to one side. The hands flip me onto my back and again the knife flashes. My jeans are pulled off, and then my panties.
Naked now, I lay sobbing on the ground. My ankle is bleeding. There is a sharp stab of pain when I try to move my foot. The man above me accepts a cloth from a larger man, pours water onto the fabric, and then bends to dab at my face.
“What do you think, John?” the bald man in the shadows asks. “Do we sell her for meat?”
Straddling me, the man tilts my head into the dappled sunlight. “Pretty,” he says at last. “I say we keep her. Bring me the tape, Brian.”
I writhe as my wrists and ankles are bound with duct tape. The men find a branch and run it between my arms and legs, each of them holding one end as I swing back and forth between them. Dangling chest up, I see a glimpse of red between the thick ferns, the men reaching a clearing where their pickup is parked. My captors yank out the branch and toss me unceremoniously in the back. I am manacled by one ankle, secured by a chain to the scratched bed of the older Ford. Then I grunt with every jolt as the vehicle dodges the road’s many potholes. The men have the radio’s volume cranked, raucously singing a song I’ve never heard.
I close my eyes, fighting for calm. I had watched from behind a rock as they had emerged unexpectantly from the trees to attack our camp. They had slitted my mother’s throat first thing, hanging her head down like a deer to open her up and gut her. My traumatized little sister had been taken away in the red truck by the sandy haired man—while the bald one remained behind to carefully skin and behead my mother. Then taking up his ax, he dismembered her casually as though he was chopping wood. By the time the smaller man returned alone in the truck, my mother’s torso was roasted crisp, suspended on a spit about a foot above a fire. The two men had seated themselves close to the dripping meat, carving with their knives the flesh from my mother’s limbs.
I lingered nearby, hating to leave the last place I had seen my mother. The men had busied themselves the following day with wrapping up the meat. Then one of them spied my footprints on his way to the river.
For two weeks they hunt me—two whole weeks that I managed to avoid capture. But then they bought a dog.
The men stop the truck beside a ramshackle building. It is a hunter’s shack, yet these men are not poor, I realize, spying the fine-looking vehicles beside the cabin. Instead they are doing what was now a favorite past-time for men; scouring the forests in search of fleeing women and girls.
I hold my breath as the men disappear through the doorway of the shack. If I fight them, I die, I think.
The men pass the truck and stop beside what looks like a picnic table. I see them lay out a plastic sheet over the top, weighing it down with rocks on the ground around it. Gravel crunches as the shorter man approaches me. His taller companion is leaning an ax against the picnic table, along with a large tub and a bucket of what appears to be tools. A chill of dread touches my spine as the man named John frees me from the truck, then drags me down from its bed. Unsteadily I sway on my feet as John crouches, his knife sawing through the tape binding my ankles.
John gestures me to raise my bound hands above my head. As I do so he pushes at my thighs, spreading my legs. Without a word, he wets a rag in a bucket of cold soapy water, and then goes to work. As I stand there shivering, he washes every crevice of my body, not once but twice, returning with a second bucket of fresh water after the first darkens to brown. “You are a help-meet,” he grates into my ear. He empties a third bucket over my head, and then soaps up my hair. “That means you were made to please men. Got it?”
I nod, shivering. The sun is behind the trees now. Their hound dog’s icy nose snuffles at my anus.
“Why did you run?” Brian asks as he joins his friend. He is a bear of a man with a bald head and laughing brown eyes, his hands and body built like a lumberjack’s. I look away and stare at my feet.
“You killed my mother,” I whisper dryly.
“I am a man so that is my right,” Brian says. “Your mother was too old to take to the butcher. But not so old to waste. She was actually tender for her age. Her breasts, too, were very nice—too lovely to resist. Care to see what I make with them?”
I begin to shake my head, then catching his frown, I nod, fighting back tears.
The man grins as he unhooks a little bag from his belt and shows it to me. It is a small leather pouch, round with a protrusion at one end. “They’re easy to make,” he says. “You cut around the base first, then slide your blade just under the skin and up, keeping the tip inside. Then you ease it all the way around at that angle, all the while pulling hard at the nipple. The skin slides off all in one piece. I flip it over my thumb to scrape away the blood vessels and stuff. And look, it has no seams!” He turns the bag over. “I sell these at the club.”
John catches my chin and forces my eyes to his. “He could do that to you, you know. Your tits are certainly big enough. But it seems to me we could do more useful things with them; what do you think, Brian?”
The bald man barely glances up. “I agree that she’d make a good dairy prospect. But she’s not old enough yet. Besides, you’d have to breed her first.”
“Oh, such a chore!” John rolls his eyes. “No, I’m talking about keeping her for us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have milk on hand without going to town? Drawn straight from the tit is always best. Why not this one? With those glands of hers she’d be a natural. Here, let me check.”
He feels between my legs, his calloused fingers inserting themselves. He takes a sniff, rubbing his fingertips together to check the texture. “Could be she’s ripe. We’ll fuck her hard for the next little while and see what comes of it. If we can get her pregnant, that’ll bring on her milk once the offspring is born.”
“Whatever.” Brian rolls his eyes and snorts derisively, his attention on the picnic table nearby, and assembled tools. “You know this act of yours really gets old.”
“It’s never an act. Every single time we go through this I tell you the same thing. Only with this girl . . . I mean look at her. She could produce enough milk to get us through the day. For our cereal. Or cheese if we want to make cheese. Butter, pudding . . . Don’t tell me this doesn’t appeal to you.”
Brian stares at the sky. “Like we ever make cheese.” He pauses with a snort. “And what would we do with her later, hmm? You know, when it’s time to go home?”
“We’d cross that bridge when we get to it.” John shrugs and kicks at the dirt.
Shivering, I close my eyes.
“Well girl, in case you’re wondering, my name is Brian,” the big man addresses me. “Brian Dunahee, and this little dreamer here is John Scott, my best friend. We are your masters now—got it? You do what we tell you, and maybe we’ll let you live through the night. If not, I’ll stretch you on that table and gut you, too. What are you called, girl?”
“Amy.” Trembling, I nod stupidly as the two men half-carry me into the cabin. John takes a towel and dries me off. Then I’m stretched onto my stomach on the kitchen table, the men sliding me forward over the edge until my breasts hang down. Brian supports my shoulders as John crouches to measure each breast from stem to stern, then checks the circumference, with Brian scribbling his findings on a pad.
I tense as something hard and cold slips between my legs and into my body—stopping with a jerk several times as it’s positioned within me. More numbers are recorded, Brian’s expression intense while John scoots a chair close to the table. Sitting beside my shoulder, the sandy haired man raises my nearest breast into the light.
“Finely grained skin. Good heft, too. Heavy and dense, with a good plump nipple.” He kneads my breast hard, feeling the bumps and texture of the flesh. My captors carry me to the mattress and set me on my back. Spreading my legs, they raise them high over my head and secure them with ropes to hooks in the wall.
They stare unhappily down at my raised pussy. “I’ll get on it,” Brian says, hurrying into the tiny bathroom to grab shaving supplies and a roll of paper towels. He kneels in front of my cunt, sawing the hairs short with his knife, then lathering me up to shave me smooth. He pauses briefly to consider his work, then, spreading my folds widely back with one hand, he dries them off carefully with a paper towel.
John hands him strips of duct-tape to hold my pussy open.
“There.” Brian stands at last, his fingers stroking my exposed girlhood. “It’s just so much easier this way. I don’t like it when your body hides your cunt from my sight. I hate all that loose skin.”
Teary eyed and shaking, I toss my head, my face going hot as John shoulders Brian aside and kneels between my legs. The smaller man explores me closely, tracing the edges of my opening. He sinks a finger into me slowly, pressing upward against the roof of my cunt, then moistening my opened folds, moving languidly around the shape of my vagina. “If we keep this girl, Brian, we could do whatever we want. No brothers to interfere, or put it to a vote.”
“I know.” Brian crouches beside the bed to grip and pull on my breasts. “It would be cool if we could, that’s for sure.”
“Hey, you’re the one that started that club.” John catches my look. “We have a barn up on the hill,” he explains. “Started a gentleman’s group up there maybe a year before the laws were finalized.”
“Nine months prior,” Brian manages. Grinning, he releases my nipple with a slurp.
John shrugs. “Fine, nine months then. There are men like Brian here who just happen to love gore, who get off on destroying female bodies. Men like this serve a valuable purpose. They do the clean-up work that no one else wants to do. Eliminating the girls who refuse to fit in. You know, like runaways and such. Girls like you, for example. I bet if I asked you right now what is most important in life, you would not give me the right answer. You don’t even know what the right answer is.”
“Damn these tits!” exclaims Brian. He presses into my breast, kneading hard. “How big do you think they are? Double D’s?”
“At least. I told you they were nice for her age. She’d make a great milker.” John is prodding my exposed opening, poking in his fingers repeatedly to keep me wet around my pussy. “We have her bra; we can always check.” He inserts his fingers fully, stirring the moist flesh. “She’ll carry a lot of milk if we can get a kid out of her. Damn. That’s it.” He stands abruptly to unfasten his belt, his jeans dropping to the floor as he falls on me. I stiffen in shock, gasping in pain as his cock drives in. Screaming, I grasp for my bonds to free my tied ankles. Brian seizes my wrists and yanks them down. He leans heavily into the squirming tissue of my breasts, releasing his hold to press hard against me, his sausage fingers working my flesh like dough. John is thrusting vigorously now, his shaft inside me plunging deeper with every stroke. I shriek and claw at the mattress. Then abruptly John stiffens; grunting, he wilts above me, his upper body sagging as fluid spills from my cunt.
Brian releases me and climbs to his feet. He shoves John off me, then jerks up my buttocks with his hands. Smiling, he nuzzles my opened entrance, his tongue sliding deep into my cunt, moving lazily in a circle. He takes his time eating me out, sucking on my clit and pulling with his teeth. His fingers sink in; he bends to thrust his tongue between them; like a bee pulling pollen from a flower, he licks greedily, his fingers drawing more of my juice to the surface. “Not all girls taste good, but my god! I can’t get enough of this one!”
“Maybe it’s me you taste,” John says with a laugh. “You know I just fucked her, right?”
“No, this is girl, one hundred percent pure.” Brian runs his finger up and down over my pussy, playfully stretching my tight opening.
The men trade off, John mounting me a second time to lower himself into me, pushing in fully, then easing out.
“This is choice meat,” Brian says as he prods my buttocks. “She’s what, about sixteen? She won’t be worth a damn if we don’t harvest her soon. Aged girl is hard to sell.”
John is moaning, pumping slowly as he braces his arms, controlling his thrusts enough to watch his cock move in and out. Trembling under the abuse, a huge part of me outraged by this violation, I glare at the ceiling.
John stiffens mid-thrust, howling as he drives in hard, the volcano of his shaft erupting and going soft, throbbing gently within me.
“I’ll tell you what,” he manages at last. “We go through this every time, and every single time you get your way. I never get to win these little contests. You destroy the girl, butcher her for meat, and what do you end up with? You’re happy for a day or two, but then what? You’re always hungry for more.
“This girl has the finest breasts I’ve seen, and that’s without the drug. I look at her and I see months or maybe even a year of always having cream for my coffee, or milk for my cereal. But it’s more than that. Did you see how deep she goes? Did you look at the numbers you scribbled down? We can learn from her body, don’t you see? Practice on her. You say you can’t fist, well I’m betting you’re wrong. With this girl, I could teach you.”
“My hands are too big.” Brian growls. There is a pause as he stares between my legs. “Do you really think I could?”
“If you follow my instructions.” John moves to the kitchen to wash his hands. “She’s got the depth. All we have to do is get some width out of her. We have all the time in the world, Bri—many weeks or months to stretch her out. She’s ours now. You can practice on her all you want.”
Licking his lips, Brian crouches between my legs. His big hands press against my pelvis. He is tilting my hips toward the little lamp nearby, his fingers entering me tentatively, hooking at the sides and spreading my tissue. Grinning then he leans down, his mouth fixing itself around the rim of my vagina, his hungry tongue scooping inside me, drawing out my fluids. He sucks hard against my cunt, extending his tongue as far as it will go. I close my eyes, moaning despite myself at the sensations flooding through me. When I open them again, I see John standing behind him.
“I take it you’re hungry?” John asks. Brian grunts in his throat and lifts his head, creamy tendrils of fluid running down his chin. He inserts his fingers to spread me again, delight broadening his face.
“Look at that. She’s so wet!” Brian stirs my fluids with his fingers, the wet sounds filling the quiet room. Once more he dips down, his tongue swirling in circles as I raise up my hips. Smiling at John, he smacks his lips.
“Fine.” Laughing, John returns to the kitchen. “Get familiar with her body. That’s the one thing we must do. In the meantime, I’m hungry. Want a sandwich?”
Brian closes his eyes, his mouth open as his fingers dig into my cunt, the hands separating and turning. He hovers above my pelvis, stretching my opening wide at different angles. He pulls me toward him until my legs stretch taut against their fetters. Once more he buries his face, straining for reach with his tongue.
“You know,” John calls to him. “When you fist, your hand gets to go a lot farther than your fingers. You can reach down past your wrist—maybe even deeper with this girl. If her juices are what you like, there’s no better way than a good fisting to coax them out.”
“I’m too big to fist,” Brian repeats sadly. Nevertheless, he pulls over a chair and sits between my legs. I squirm, embarrassed and strangely aroused by the look on his face as he gapes me gently.
“That’s it,” John urges. “Explore her out. Feel inside until you know the terrain. If you want to gape her, use the top wall of her cunt as leverage, then slide in deep with fingers from your other hand and pull down. It takes some muscle but it’s worth it. It’s the quickest way to work large objects in.”
I try to relax as the big man makes the attempt, my body yearning for penetration as I stare at the wall. The fingers sink deep, the hand separating as Brian grunts with effort. “The top part’s hard,” he exclaims. “It doesn’t—”
“That’s what I mean; you use it for leverage,” John says. “The bottom part should yield readily when you stretch it. Did you feel that?” Brian nods, scrutinizing my pussy around his hands. “Good, that’s what you want. When you insert your hand to fist, you always want to angle it down, utilize that yielding lower wall. Same thing if you’re trying to insert something big like a bottle.”
John walks suddenly to the bed and sits down beside me. Flustered, I look away, staring at the wall. “Now you,” he begins, reaching to massage my loose breasts, “listen up. Enough with this hostility, please. In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t run down the streets screaming ‘rape’ anymore because nobody cares. The very concept of rape has ceased to exist. So what must you do to survive, I wonder? According to the bible, the most important thing in life for a girl is to please men. It’s in the book of Genesis, right at the very start. A girl is made to be a man’s help-meet. To be useful to men in every way she can.”
I am gritting my teeth, my nostrils flaring. “You killed my mother.”
“So we did; so what? Brian found it enjoyable. He found the butchering part enjoyable, the skinning part enjoyable, because that’s Brian’s thing. It’s not just pussy juice that turns him on. It’s internal stuff like blood and guts, and making his little purses. Your mother served her purpose well. Her meat fed me and Brian, plus five other men at a homeless shelter. What meaning have you found in your life, Amy? Here you have this opportunity tossed in your lap, and you stick your nose in the air. If you think you’re above us, think again. This is what I mean. Girls like you don’t belong. Girls like you end up . . .”
“Very bloody,” Brian says darkly. “Which is a shame, because damn, you taste good.”
I chew my lip, forcing myself to meet John’s glare. “Isn’t that something, though? I taste good. So don’t I have a purpose?”
The two men stare at me. “Yes,” John says quickly. “Absolutely—of course you do. But how can you please Brian using this skill? That’s what girls need to ask themselves constantly; how do I take this situation and use it wisely.”
I gaze into John’s blue eyes. “I’ll try; I promise. Please don’t kill me.”
John thinks for a moment. “Ok, for now you’re on probation. Brian wants to fist you, and I want to see you do everything you can to help him. We’ll untie your legs so you can get your circulation back. But then I want to see an active involvement into making this work.”
I cry out in pain as my legs are lowered, hastily massaging my thighs and ankles. John brings plates into the room and a pitcher of milk. I wipe my face and sit up, swinging my legs to the side of the bed as I reach to accept my plate. I avoid the jerky, remembering my mother. But the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are good, and the milk rich and frothy.
“That’s not your mother,” Brian says suddenly around a mouthful. “Not sure why, but this batch of jerky came out lighter.”
“More fat in the meat, perhaps?” suggested John.
Brian shrugged. “Could be, though if I recall, she wasn’t fat.”
“That’s girl milk,” John informs me as I wipe the foam from my lips. “You’re going to have to get used to these alternative foods. How long has it been since you’ve had milk?”
I think for a moment. “I don’t remember. I never really drank cow’s milk. My mom was into the healthy stuff like Almond or Hemp milk.”
I finish my meal and wait the men out. “So how can I help? I don’t know anything about fisting.”
“You don’t fight him, that’s how,” John replies. “You relax and enjoy yourself, or act like you do. By tensing up you make the process so much harder. You are now at the age of usefulness for girls. Be useful! This is a new world now.”
I stare at Brian’s big hands. “I’ve never had anything inside me before today,” I lie. “Now I have to fit that much in? It’s going to hurt.”
“Virgin to fisting in one day,” Brian says around his food. “It is a bit of a leap, John.”
The sandy haired man studies me briefly. “Ok, since you’re trying to be so good, I’ll start you out for him—get you ready for his hands. Sound fair?”
“Can you explain something to me first?” I ask in a quavering voice. “Why did this happen? Why are women suddenly slaves now?”
John chokes on his mouthful. “Not slaves. You were made from the rib of man, by men, for men to use, and to make men happy. Or at least the pretty girls were. Men are made by God and in his image. Girls were made by men. See the difference? Now, shall we get started?”
I sigh, moving the pillow to a centralized location on the mattress. Then I sit at the foot of the bed, lying back shakily, my head resting on the pillow. “Smart thinking,” John remarks. He pulls a chair up close and seizes my ankles. With one pull he yanks me slightly off the bed, then places my left ankle on his shoulder. Behind me Brian catches up my right leg and bends it toward my chest. “Hold that for us,” will you” he asks, and I comply, wrapping my arms around my raised knee.
“You see how she’s positioned, Brian? IF you want the lower wall of her pussy to stretch, you’ll need to get her ass off the bed first to give yourself the room. A pillow under her hips works too.”
Leaning over, John massages the muscles of my groin and pelvic area. He kneads my hard thighs and presses out the stressful knots. Then bending forward, his hand parallel to the floor, he tilts his hand palm up and slides his fingers in.
“Lie back,” he tells me. “And don’t think too much about what I’m doing. Brian, bring that flashlight and pull up a chair. You need to watch if you’re going to learn.”
Closing my eyes, I grip my knee and breathe in through my nose, exhaling slowly through my mouth. I am exhilarated by this attention—the sight of the two men staring between my legs as they sit side by side. John’s tenor voice speaks softly to his friend, explaining as he works.
“Down like this,” John is saying, “into the opening like you’re diving into a pool, and then slightly up . . .” A look of strain crosses his face. “There, see that? I had to lean into my wrist, didn’t I? Press downward, like this . . . see what I’m doing? Stretching that wall between her pussy and anus. Bear down and rotate in. Angle in, pressing against her here. Except I can’t go in yet because I’m only using fingers. But if I funnel my fingers like this—and tuck my thumb between them. Now see what we do.”
I draw a deep breath at the sudden tightness, the fingers rotating, rocking side to side and stretching my taut tissue. Knuckles grind against my cunt. “Amy, you’re trying too hard,” John admonishes. “Relax if you can. Visualize yourself opening.”
I nod quickly and turn my head, setting my gaze on a spot on the wall. The stain has a tree shape, reminding me of the branch with the one little bulb in the Charlie Brown Christmas special I used to watch. I close my eyes, my full belly making me sleepy. When have I last had a good night’s rest? I am . . .
My eyes flare wide. The weight of the hand breaks through and into my body. My cunt is wide around John’s wrist, fluids dribbling down my skin as John glides straight to my core, then drags back in reverse. John pulls out all the way and I see his fingers dripping, the smaller man curling them to show his friend.
“Watch again as I go in,” John says. “Down, twisting, lean to stretch, then angle. Right here. See that little give before I’m in? That’s the real bitch right there. Not the entrance to the pussy so much. It’s this second threshold here. Bypass this and you’ve mastered her body. But to get past you’ll want to utilize that lower wall. There’s a hollow just beneath with lots of room; see how much I can move my hand? That’s how you get around those tight muscles. Angle down, twist into the hollow, slide in. There! Level out and push! See how far I can go? She’s very deep.
“Okay, once you’re in, draw immediately back, “John continues. “Not all the way—don’t come out of her. You want to stop beneath those muscles that just gave you so much trouble. Now you take your time and press them out; make them soft. Cock your arm and press with your knuckles. Just enough pressure and twisting to . . . There, did you see that! The muscles just relaxed. Now watch as I slide right in.”
I lick my lips as the hand goes to town. John is fisting with vigor as he stands above me, his arm rotating as he reaches my cervix, then pulling out hard with a loud wet sound. “See how I angle my elbow as I work, changing speeds when those muscles start to tighten? Never hold in one place for too long. Keep moving. See, again toward the surface we find those very tight muscles. So we work them, pumping fast with lots of lube. Pressing those knots all soft again. There!”
He sits back in his chair, cocking his arms behind his back to stretch himself. “This is how we can pump her all night. We feel what her muscles are doing and keep adjusting our tactics. See . . .?” Seating himself, he glides in effortlessly, rocking in his chair as he thrusts in and out. “Like putty in my hands.”
I am trembling, groaning, my pelvis straining toward him as he exits, grunting as he thrusts.
There is a pause in the motion. Then larger fingers are rotating in. My pussy stretches wider, more fingers delving into my vagina, stretching me back as the thumb joins the rest. “Good,” John says. “You got this. Now lean as I showed you.”
I grunt involuntarily, my tissues straining. I try to relax, to find the tree shaped splotch on the wall beside me again. The big hand is yawning my pussy’s mouth, grinding hard into the tensing muscles.
“Dive in quick before she tightens back up and you unravel all my work. Good! Level out. Now push!”
“Oh!” The word passes my lips. I raise up my hips, my head flopped back against the pillow. The big hand forces me wide inside as it pushes in fully. Brian’s eyes are filled with wonder as he slowly draws out.
“I’m doing it!” he cries. “Oh my God, that feels good.”
“Yes, now keep going!” Facing me, John straddles my lower torso, his weight on his knees as he leans forward on the mattress. Pressing his weight into his hands he slowly and deeply massages my breasts. “You see?” he tells me as I writhe beneath him. “Being a girl has its perks.”
I am moaning as the big hand pumps me, filling me up and pulling me back. Fluids pour down my thigh, soaking the fitted sheet beneath my pussy. Brian pauses and bends to gape me with his fingers, his soothing tongue cleansing me out, gliding from cunt to anus. Then he’s fisting me, his big hand changing angles as he works, the force of his entry raising my pelvis off the bed. I cry out as I struggle, as John, pressing my breasts together, sucks my nipples into his mouth.
Bucking, I spurt from my cunt, my body quaking on the bed. Brian is wiping his face – licking his fingers.
“Keep at it!” John orders him. “The longer we go, the better.”
I scream fiercely and wild as the big hand stretches my pulsing flesh. Now Brian is pulling aside my opening on one side with his fingers, stretching me wide as his hand sinks deep. He stands and lifts me by one leg, forcing John to scramble from my body as I am hauled from my pillow. Vertically I hang with my right leg dangling, my upper body resting on the bed. Brian is grinning like a happy kid at Christmas, with John reaching in to gape me while Brian fists. I undulate madly as John sucks my clit, spraying both of the men again as my body falls limp. I am exhausted, fatigue dragging me down into a kind of fuzzy stupor. And still the two men work tirelessly on, the rhythm of the hands fisting endlessly.
I wake in the night to a darkened room, with light between my legs and the hulking silhouette of Brian’s shoulders. My folds are loose, freed at last from the painful tape. Brian is exploring at his leisure, swabbing me with his tongue. I grunt as he slides his hand into my aching cunt, his large fist forming a hard knot inside my opening. Rapidly he pumps just inches from the surface, leaning hard left and then right as he softens me. He pulls out with a squelch and cool air rushes in, my slackened flesh opened, relaxed. With two hands he spreads my cunt deeply from inside, then leans in to lick me out.
John is snoring from the bed beside me. I raise my hips, mashing my pussy against Brian’s face. He grabs my buttocks to support them, his head tilting back and forth to guide his tongue.
At last he sets me down and wipes his face. I groan and wish for more, my fingers playing with my clit.
“Tell me,” he says conversationally, flicking the flashlight on my face. “What made you decide to behave? Could you sense how we were planning to kill you? You are exactly the right age to butcher. I was going to carry your out to the picnic table after—to do to you what I did to your mother. We had the tools out there and everything. But then you had a change of heart. So what happened? We do this all the time. No other girl has done a one-eighty on us like this.”
I stop playing with myself to look at him. “You won’t believe me if I tell the truth.”
“Try me.” Brian is silent, the unwavering light on my face.
I lick my lips. “I wasn’t exactly a virgin, you know. My mom took us away because . . . she was religious and I embarrassed her. I like being penetrated more than anything. My mom called me a nympho, but really what’s the harm if it’s what I love? This though—I wanted to hate you for killing my mother, but you made me feel so good! All I know is I want this day and night, for as long as you let me live. I don’t want you to ever stop.”
Leaning between my legs, Brian squeezes my right breast gently. “John always says a girl’s body is meant for this. I guess he’s right.”
I am nodding. My laugh sounds silly in my ears, almost childish. “Definitely!”
“Well then, I shall indulge you.” Brian sits back in his chair, opening my folds with one big hand. He raises an oily-looking bottle, squirting lube directly in. Smiling, I lay back and raise my hips, feeling my muscles surrender as he eases in. The lube makes him slippery inside me, sliding like a fat eel in and out. He grips my thigh, the motion of his big hand effortless as he works.
“If you do stay,” he pants, “There’ll be days when we bring home a girl to butcher. You’ll have to get used to that.”
I groan between my teeth, my hips rising to meet his thrusts. “I’ll do anything to stay,” I tell him. “I’ll even make those little purses for you if you show me how. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do anyway? Help men?”
Surprised, he jerks up his head. Then he grins.
End of Part 2
Akron & Cleveland and Youngstown Swingers Parties
This is a group from Akron‚ Cleveland and Youngstown that put on parties for swingers and couples/females who are looking for real meets for gangbangs and hotel parties (group sex). We have a kik room to meet other members and see what we are about. To join the group you will need to follow the rules in the profile picture.
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Are the real swingers parties or sex parties actually happening in Tulsa? Really??
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The Teacher's Tale
The Teacher's Tale · General · The Teacher’s Tale
“And for next week I want you to read chapters 16 to 20 alright?!” My last sentence of class was met with a cacophony of noise. The bell rang‚ chairs scraped‚ bags zipped‚ voices grew louder. Lunchtime at Pembury High. I sighed and picked up my own books; heading to the staff room to get my lunch. I always brought packed lunch. It was a force of habit – something my mother had always done for me when I was at school‚ it made me feel… nostalgic in a way.
I said hello to my fellow teachers and opened my locker. Inside was something incredibly shocking. A detention slip! It read “I need to see you in my office at the end of the day.” Under ‘reason’ was simply “;)” and it was just signed “LDE”. LDE was the acronym that our school’s dance teacher used. Her name was Lara Diane Edrel. I was both confused and excited. I had fancied Lara since we had joined the school together last year. We were only a year apart in age but she seemed so much like me that the age thing never mattered. She was not the tallest‚ nor the shortest of women‚ she was a perfect height and a fantastic build‚ her legs were lithe and sexy – years of dancing had toned them up‚ her stomach was flat‚ her arse had a fantastic curvature almost perfect and her breasts… her breasts were incredible. Large and round and succulent… I just wanted to taste them. I suddenly caught myself and rushed back to my classroom hoping the day would pass quickly.
I myself was not very tall – at the age of 21‚ I was 5’7” quite slim in build with a big smile and big round brown eyes. I had caught several of my sixth formers staring at me and it worried me to think about how they talked about me and my fellow teachers – knowing that I had only myself been in their shoes three or four years previously. I had to be careful about what I thought for the last period of the day. Year nine’s were a tricky bunch at the best of times‚ never mind when my head was over in miss Edrel’s office between her breasts‚ or better yet between those gorgeously sexy legs‚ licking her sweet pussy…
I shook myself and carried on with teaching my class about Romeo And Juliet despite the fact that they clearly had no interest in what I was teaching them. I stuck on a youtube video and let the class run to an end‚ not even setting them any homework and as the bell went‚ I was racing across the grounds to get to Lara’s office. When I got there I saw her silhouette through the frosted glass on her door. I hesitated‚ taking in her gorgeous figure then‚ after a split second‚ I knocked. “Come in!” her voice floated through the door‚ it was music to my ears. As I pushed the door open I spoke “Hey Miss Edrel – you wanted to see me? Very nice with the det slip by the way!” I tried to act jovially‚ even though I was nervously excited and could feel my cock stiffening as I looked at her amazing body. She was wearing a figure hugging summer dress – her legs were bare‚ as were her feet so she had obviously removed her leggings which she would have been wearing all day and her full beautiful breasts were almost spilling out of the top of her dress. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair as she turned to look at me with her staggering green eyes and a smile on her face. She walked with a sway in her hips that I had never seen on any other woman and god dam it was sexy. “yes… I wanted to see you” she said in a silky voice‚ locking the door as she did so‚ “and by the look of things‚” she gazed down at the solid lump that was my cock “you wanted to see me too!” I suddenly became very flustered‚ stumbling over my words “I – I can… I can explain!” She just giggled and said “explain what? That you’ve wanted to fuck me since we met? Oh hunny‚ I know… I wanted to see how long it would take you to make a move… but I got bored of waiting…”
Before I knew what was happening‚ she had pulled down her dress so I could see her magnificent breasts fully for the first time – they were every bit as beautiful as I had imagined and then she had her hands in my boxers‚ pulling them down and grabbing my cock as she did so‚ sliding her hand up and down slowly at first. “well… it’s nice to meet you” she said‚ before swallowing all 8 and a half inches whole. I swear I almost came right there and then and my hands flew to the back of her head‚ pushing my cock as deep down her throat as I could and she grabbed hold of my thighs‚ before moving one hand to gently carress my balls as she deepthroated me. I moaned and she groaned as she throatfucked me. I was getting closer to orgasm and she could clearly tell this so she squeezed my balls harder and sucked me faster and faster until I groaned loudly and gripped her hair tight trying hard not to shout as there were still students milling around the building‚ I shot my load deep in her throat. She swallowed it all down‚ licking her lips. She stood up and covered up saying “well… that was definitely worth the wait… however… you owe me now!!!” I was too shocked to speak! She wrote something on a piece of paper and slipped it in my shirt pocket whispering in my ear “my address… swing by later tonight… I’ll have a real treat for you then… off you go!” And in a flash‚ I was out of her office‚ still dazed and amazed by what had just transpired…
I rushed home unable to get my head around what had happened… Apparently‚ she had wanted me too! And had just been waiting for my play?!!? Well had I known that I would have acted a fuckload sooner!!! I ran up the stairs to my flat‚ fumbling with the keys before I finally managed to let myself in. I was met by my cat and I had to say “Sorry old friend‚ but I have another pussy to play with tonight!” The cat looked slightly hurt (if cat’s can look hurt) and stalked away with her tail in the air as if I’d personally insulted her. I’d buy her some tuna to make it up to her later‚ but right now‚ showering and getting back out was more important. I stripped down and turned the shower on‚ embracing the cold water before it finally turned to hot. I thought that the sheer cold might make me think twice about what I was going to do that evening but instead it only refocused my mind on what was going to happen. As I was washing myself‚ I thought about her lips wrapped around my cock and felt myself getting harder and harder. It was no good‚ I began to stroke myself‚ gently at first‚ the water crashing down around me. I was imagining her breasts enveloping my cock‚ her squeezing them tightly around it and sucking the end every time it went near those incredibly sexy lips. I stiffened even more as I thought about sliding my head between her pussy lips and how good she would taste… before I knew it‚ I had shot my load and it was washing away down the drain… Now all I had to do was wait for her text message to say she was ready for me to come over… Well that and get changed.
The text message came whilst I was playing xbox. I felt my phone vibrate against my leg and almost dropped the controller. The text simply read “I’m waiting big boy ;) x” Well‚ I’d kept her waiting once‚ so it would be rude to do it again! I chucked on some jeans and a tee‚ grabbed my hoodie‚ keys and phone from the side and was out my door no more than three minutes after receiving that text. In my pocket was the piece of paper with her address on it. She only lived three or four streets away from me!!! I was getting nervous again but I was excited as well‚ the blood was pumping in my ears. It was an odd sensation‚ but I knew the blood would be pumping somewhere else soon enough. I arrived at her front door within about ten minutes and I rang the door bell. When she answered‚ my jaw almost hit the floor.
She was stood there in a French maids outfit and black high heels. Again her breasts were almost fully out – the outfit made them look even bigger than they actually were and the skirt was so short that I was sure if she bent over I would see her panties. “Good evening sir” She said in the same silky voice she had used earlier. “Please… Come in”. I was more than happy to oblige and after I’d stepped across the threshold she shut the door behind me‚ spun me around and pulled me towards her. I kissed her passionately‚ my lips finding hers with incredible ease; our tongues were not far behind and we were exploring each others mouths. It wasn’t long before I was kissing down her neck‚ grazing my teeth‚ carefully‚ so as not to leave a mark – I knew what kids could be like in school and didn’t want her to have to face any of the flak she would get if she had a love bite – and I moved closer and closer to those incredible breasts. Finally‚ I managed to get my lips onto them kissing closer and closer to her nipples. It was just as I raised my hands to remove her top that she pushed me to my knees and forced my head towards her pussy. She didn’t need to force really but it felt good to be wanted down there… She smelt incredible‚ I could tell her juices were flowing but that didn’t stop me from sliding my tongue all the way up her pussy‚ teasing her arsehole before reaching the top and flicking over her already swollen clit. My teeth closed around it as my tongue began to swirl and stab and flick and my fingers plunged inside her. I could hear her moaning as I did this and a sudden surge of inspiration came to me. The next time I withdrew my fingers I slid one into her arsehole and two into her pussy‚ all the while my tongue and teeth working on her clit. This made her grind her hips towards my face and she began to moan faster as my fingers penetrated her two holes. My cock was throbbing but I didn’t stop; I wanted to repay her for earlier. It wasn’t long before I was going to get my reward – her moans got louder and quicker‚ her breathing more shallow; then‚ all of a sudden‚ her hands gripped my hair stupidly tightly and I could feel her pussy and arsehole tense around my fingers. I licked her until her orgasm subsided then she pulled me up and licked her juices off me. “Well‚” she said “I guess that makes us even… Shall we get on with the evening’s entertainment? I thought we’d skip dinner‚ as you’ve just eaten and I intend to eat something myself a little later….” She winked as she finished her sentence‚ grabbed me by the hand and dragged me towards what I could only assume was her bedroom.
What I saw upon entering her bedroom shocked and excited me all at once. Attached to the four bed posts were shackles and laying in the middle of the bed was a huge red dildo… Must have been at least ten inches. I was wondering what was about to happen but realised that with Lara‚ I would be able to explore a sexual side of myself that I had never been able to before. Whilst I was taking in what I saw on the bed‚ Lara began to strip and I realised she wasn’t only pantiless‚ but braless too. I watched as she got completely naked‚ bending down to take off her heels and showing me her beautiful trimmed pussy and her arsehole‚ still pink from the assault against the door earlier. As she took off her second shoe she spoke. “I can see from the look in your eye you’re a little surprised… but from the look of your trousers excited too!” She laughed softly as I looked down and saw that my cock was as stiff as iron. She walked over to me and kissed me as she had earlier‚ this time sliding her hands up my top and dragging her nails down my chest. The pain felt good in a twisted kind of way and just as I found myself wanting more and my cock throbbing‚ she stopped. She took my top off and unzipped my jeans‚ pulling them and my boxers down but waiting for me to remove them fully as she wandered back to the bed‚ perching on the edge. I clumsily removed the rest of my clothing and almost sprinted over to her. “Woah there!” She said‚ “I want you to do something to me…” “Anything!” I replied. “I want you‚ to take this big red dildo‚ and force it down my throat… then‚ I want you to put it in my arse and fuck me hard from behind… I want you to treat me like your little slut‚ all my holes‚ are yours… I want you to use and abuse me… all I ask‚ is that this dildo is in my arse for the first few orgasms and after we’ve fucked once… you chain me up. Other than that‚ you have free reign. Deal?”
My response was to grab the dildo and her throat‚ almost in the same action. Squeezing her throat I said “Open up.” She obliged almost instantly and I relinquished my grip slightly sliding the dildo in‚ inch by inch to her wide open mouth watching as she took it just as easily as she had taken my cock earlier on that day. When she had it all the way in I held her throat tighter‚ closing my fingers so she could barely breathe. She began to cough and splutter and I again loosened my grip and began to remove the dildo from her throat‚ before ramming it deeper again and making her gag and splutter from the surprise. I smirked‚ pleased that I had caught her out and this time as I removed the dildo from her throat I brought it all the way out‚ telling her to bend over. She obliged almost instantly and I forced her head into the bed before spreading her perfectly rounded arse cheeks. I spat on her arsehole to make it wet then slid three fingers inside her straight away. She bucked slightly then stayed still. I’d never done anything to anyone’s areshole before tonight‚ so I was very excited to have free reign over it after fucking her like this… I pulled my fingers out and before putting the dildo inside her‚ I shoved them in her mouth and she willingly sucked them clean. I began teasing her anus with the dildo before she slowly but surely squeezed it in. This time she did buck and moan and rock onto it‚ her moans getting louder as it got deeper and deeper. I pulled it out about half way before slamming it back inside her‚ making her yelp with a mix of surprise and pleasure once again. I smiled again realising what I was about to do and I slid my fingers inside her dripping wet pussy‚ making her moan and slide her hips backwards and forwards. It didn’t take long til my cock was solid again and I pulled my fingers out and slid it in slowly‚ inch by inch‚ just like I had the dildo. Her pussy felt wonderful around my cock‚ warm‚ tight and wet… Just perfect. She moaned louder and louder as my cock went in and out of her‚ slowly and gently at first but then faster and harder and faster still‚ our hips moving in a rhythmical movement. Suddenly she said “Spank me!” So I pulled my hand back and spanked her. “What the fuck was that‚ are you man or mouse? I said fucking SPANK ME!!!” She screamed the last two words as my cock drilled into her again‚ this time I was taking no prisoners‚ I pulled my hand back as far as I could and brought it crashing down on her arse cheek. The noise was incredible but nowhere near as incredible as the one she made after I made contact and my cock slipped deeper. “mmmmm fuck yeah! Keep going you’re getting me close!” My hand stung from the spank but it was a good sensation so I did the same to her other arse cheek. She moaned again and our movements became faster and more intense‚ as we drew closer to orgasm I brought my hands round to her front‚ squeezing those beautiful breasts hard and pinching her nipples‚ making her squeal with delight‚ then‚ my fingers found their way to her clit. I could see the dildo poking out of her anus as my cock rammed her pussy again and again and my fingers assaulted her clit. Without warning she cried “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” and I felt her pussy tighten around my cock and she bucked so hard into my hips that it made me shoot my load deep inside her.
We rode out our orgasms together then I forced her onto the bed and shackled her up‚ once she was in place I slid my cock into her mouth and began licking her clit again‚ so we were in the 69 position. Once again she took my cock with little resistance all the way down her throat moaning onto me this time as I licked her throbbing clit again assaulting it with my teeth and sliding my fingers inside her‚ letting the dildo in her arse keep that hole filled. I was about to do something I’d wanted to do all night‚ I turned around and put my cock between her tits‚ squeezing them together around it and began fucking her chest. Just as I had imagined‚ she began taking the tip of my cock in her mouth everytime she could reach it and kept telling me how good it felt between her tits. This turned me on immensely‚ however I decided to release my grip on one of her breasts‚ holding them both with one hand covering my cock and the other hand once again closed around her throat. Her moans turned to simply squeaks as her airways closed and I moved down her body‚ sliding my cock inside her widely stretched pussy with ease once again. She tried to moan but again she could only squeak and barely breathe as my cock was pounding her pussy for the second time that evening‚ this time with me on top of her‚ feeling those glorious breasts against my chest‚ her erect nipples rubbing against my body as I fucked her harder and harder. I watched her face as I fucked her and I could see the joy she felt from having her breathing restricted and her pussy pounded‚ and I kept it up‚ pulling my cock all the way out of her‚ before slamming it back in‚ harder and faster I pounded and tighter and tighter I squeezed‚ until I saw her eyes glaze over‚ at which point‚ I let go of her throat and instead began attacking her boobs. I slapped each one in turn hard‚ then bit down on each one of her nipples like I had done her clit earlier on‚ and flicked my tongue‚ ramming her pussy continuously with my throbbing cock. I began removing the dildo from her anus whilst flicking her nipples with my tongue and grazing them with my teeth and then rammed it back in‚ three maybe four times before pulling it all the way out of her and stopping my attack on her nippled just to slide it down her throat again. Before she could so much as moan‚ I had removed my cock from her tight pussy and slammed it into her now massively stretched arsehole. The feeling was sheer ecstasy. Her arse clenched as soon as my cock was in there and I couldn’t help but let out a moan of pleasure as I felt the joys of anal sex for the first time. I couldn’t help but think how fucking hot she looked with my cock in her arse‚ a dildo down her throat and her pussy dripping both of our cum… I took the dildo out of her throat and slid it inside her pussy‚ once again allowing my hand to tighten round her throat‚ after slapping her face hard. She moaned loudly again and I slapped her again with my free hand‚ then concentrated on fucking her slutty little arsehole. It felt so good to be burying my cock deep in her anus I couldn’t help but feel my balls tighten and me get closer to orgasm. I didn’t know how many times she had cum so far but I could tell she was getting insane pleasure from what was going on and her hips were moving as much as her restraints would allow. She managed to whisper “Cum… in … my … arsehole … please… fill me…!” She didn’t need to ask me twice‚ no sooner had the words left her lips‚ my balls tightened totally and my load went inside her again‚ making her let out a low stifled moan and me a loud groan. This is what I had been missing… I wouldn’t be missing it again!!!
I continued fucking her arsehole for a few minutes‚ then as I pulled out‚ I pulled the dildo out of her pussy and pushed back into her anus‚ not allowing my cum to escape. I clambered up the bed and fucked her throat again to get myself hard once more. I was in no way done with fucking this stunning specimen of the female gender. Once I was fully hard again I rushed back to the end of the bed‚ and slid my cock in her pussy‚ thrusting gently whilst I undid the shackles around her ankles. She gave me a quizzical look but I slapped her round the face again before she could speak and slammed my other hand into her throat making the words catch before she could say anything. I pounded her pussy a few times to make her slip back into the reverie she was in before and then I let go of her throat again‚ put her legs onto my shoulders and then leaned forward‚ making the most of her flexibility and putting them on her shoulders‚ fucking her as deep as I could‚ I also made sure her dildo was as deep as that could go too‚ before I resumed choking and fucking her‚ my free hand rubbing her clit. Her hips bucked and she came again and again‚ but as I had already cum four times throughout the day‚ I could go for ages. I spanked her hard and rammed her dildo in and out of her arse with my free hand making her squeal again and again with pleasure until finally‚ I felt my balls begin to tighten again. I moved her legs back to be flat on the bed‚ climbed up again and unshackled her hands‚ I slapped her again and said “squeeze your tits together‚ I’m gonna cum all over them” she did as she was told and as I fucked he magnificent breasts I pulled her dildo out of arse and slid it down her throat again. She moaned onto it as my cock slipped between her breasts – her pussy juices were still dripping off me as I was between her tits. She moaned louder and louder bringing me closer and closer to orgasm‚ before finally with one final thrust‚ I shot my load all over her chest moaning as I did so. I rolled off her‚ exhausted‚ but she wasn’t done. She pulled the dildo out of her mouth and ate up all my cum. She attempted to clamber on top of me but I whispered “not tonight… I need a break!” She looked stunned‚ but nodded and proceeded to fuck herself with her dildo until she came one more time. Then she went and had a shower‚ inviting me in but I said “Let’s save something for next time” with a wink and a smile. She laughed and went to shower and when she was done‚ I did the same. We slept together naked‚ our hands exploring each other’s bodies before we slept‚ I knew that from now on‚ life at Pembury High and life with Lara were about to get a whole lot sexier…
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Teacher’s Tale Part 2.
It had been nearly a week since I first fucked Lara‚ the Dance Teacher at Pembury High – the school I also teach English at. Life could not have been better since then. Whenever we saw each other in the corridor we would smile knowingly and nod in recognition of the other – knowing that in a few hours time we would be at either one of our houses‚ fucking each other senseless. I couldn’t help but smile remembering one such moment during the Saturday sex session; she had had all three of her glorious holes completely and utterly violated. I was close to finishing as I pounded both her pussy and anus in turn‚ trying to make myself cum‚ she was moaning loudly and egging me on‚ she wanted it‚ I could tell she wanted it she was almost begging me to cum inside her. Never not wanting to surprise‚ I threw her too her knees‚ grabbed her throat and fucked her face hard and fast‚ knowing she could take me all the way in. She even stuck her tongue out to tease my balls when my cock was buried in her throat. This brought me closer than ever and just as I felt my cock stiffen completely and my balls tighten I pulled out of her mouth and shot my load all over her face and chest. When she opened her eyes and began licking her lips and cleaning herself off‚ she looked incredibly pleased with herself and rather happy that her face and chest had got a glazing of my cum. She did look fucking hot with my cum all over her… It’s a picture that will stay with me forever.
I once again found myself heading to the staff room at lunchtime‚ to grab my lunch from my locker‚ when all of a sudden‚ I felt a tug on my sleeve. I turned in bewilderment‚ but this soon turned to delight as I saw Lara peeking out of a broom cupboard and shaking the keys at me. I shook my head‚ double checked no one could see me and I slipped inside. I heard the lock click and as soon as it did I had her up against the door kissing her passionately‚ my tongue sliding inside her mouth‚ my hand flying to her crotch to find her once again pantiless underneath her summer dress. I slipped my fingers inside her and used my thumb to massage her clit as she unzipped my trousers and began rubbing my quickly stiffening cock through my boxers. Her lips moved around to my ear which she bit down on hard‚ making me slam my fingers inside her faster and harder and begin to tease her anus with my little finger‚ knowing how much she wanted it inside her and how much she enjoyed it‚ but not wanting to cave to her that quickly. Next thing I knew‚ she was on her knees in front of me‚ taking me deep into her throat. “Oh no you don’t!” I whispered at her in what was a low growl. I picked her up by the throat‚ slammed her back into the door‚ and lifted one of her legs onto my shoulders‚ (her being a dancer was handy and sexy)‚ and slipped my hard and now wet cock easily into her dripping pussy. She let out a moan as my cock and her cunt moved together in perfect harmony and I could feel the warmth and the familiar tightness of her beautiful pussy as my big‚ thick‚ hard cock powered in and out of her. She moaned louder and louder and I could feel her nails dragging down my back‚ spurring me on. I could see the familiar signs of her getting close; her chest was heaving‚ her breathing had become ragged and irregular and she had begun gripping and clawing at my shoulders trying to bring me closer to her as I was fucking her. I slammed my cock into her again and again pulling nearly all the way out apart from my head and then ramming it back inside her as fast and hard as I could‚ sliding my hands down her back to her arse‚ I slipped two fingers inside her anus too and this‚ it seemed‚ was enough to push her over the edge. She bit her lip to stop herself screaming‚ helped by my hand quickly closing around her throat to stifle any other noise that could come out‚ and she clawed my shoulders so hard I was almost certain she drew blood. When her pussy relaxed around my cock‚ I once again forced her to her knees and felt her lips lock around my cock‚ the familiar‚ amazing feeling as my cock went deep down her throat and she held me in there‚ massaging my balls waiting for me to cum. It didn’t take long before I too had reached climax and she’d swallowed it all down. She retrieved her panties from a box on a shelf just behind me and before she could put them on‚ I snatched them off her and said “I think I’ll keep these… I’m coming to pay you a visit later and I don’t want any obstacles!” She looked slightly annoyed at first‚ then I saw the now familiar playful look she got in her eye when she thought about us having sex and she said “Fine. If you want all the year 9 boys to see the pussy you enjoy fucking so much!” She made to unlock and go out of the door‚ but I used my body to block her and pin her up against the door again‚ this time her face up against the wood. Her breathing became shallow again as she felt my cock between her arse cheeks. “Don’t be so disgusting or so silly… we both know that pussy is mine and no one else’s… although‚ I’d be willing to share with your new intern‚ maybe you should get her to wait in your office after school today…” The playful look in her eye suddenly turned to a fire of desire‚ there was a sudden sparkle in them as if to say “oh my god yes.” Instead‚ what she actually said was “I’ll meet you in my office at four. Give me a bit of time to lull her into a false sense of security.” I spanked her as hard as I could and dared with students just milling about outside the door then said “You’re a filthy little slut… And I love it. See you at four.” And with a quick peck on the neck‚ I allowed her to leave the cupboard. It wasn’t long before I followed her‚ sniffing her panties before I left the cupboard and stuffing them in my pocket‚ making sure that the red lace could not be seen from any angle.
The rest of the day flew by and when 3 o’clock came and the bell rang‚ I stayed in my classroom‚ claiming to be doing some marking. In fairness‚ I was actually doing some marking‚ but my mind was far from it. I’m sure I even missed a misspelling of “their” as “there” (shocking behaviour for an English teacher)‚ but I didn’t care – Lara was seducing her intern and hopefully‚ I’d be fucking them both very shortly. At five to four‚ my phone buzzed on the table. I dropped my pen and picked it up as soon as I heard it and saw the words “Sorted. Come and get us!” Once again‚ I was rushing through the now thankfully deserted corridors towards Lara’s office. When I got there I could hear giggling‚ I stopped outside for a second‚ trying to decipher whether it was Lara or Kellie‚ and then when I heard a voice I didn’t recognise and the same musical laugh‚ I knew it was Lara. Seemed like her laugh was just as beautiful as the rest of her. I smiled to myself and then steeled myself for what I knew was about to happen‚ what I had orchestrated‚ and walked boldly through the office door.
“Afternoon ladies!” I said as I walked in. Lara looked up and smiled at me‚ but Kellie looked confused. Lara chucked me the keys to her door and said “Draw the blind as well hunny‚ we don’t want anyone else to see this!” The look on Kellie’s face darkened even more. She started to speak “wh..what’s going on here?!?!” She stuttered. “Well‚” Lara said in a sing song sort of voice‚ “we’ve noticed how… gorgeous you are… and we wanted to exploit that… and we wanted to do it right now… in my office. Okay?” Kellie looked taken aback but before she had a chance to answer Lara was kissing her and caressing her breasts‚ almost straddling her in the chair. Kellie seemed to struggle for a minute or two but then Lara slid her hand up Kellie’s leg and began rubbing her pussy through her leggings and Kellie started to moan softly into Lara’s mouth. Lara began kissing down Kellie’s body before stopping and looking at me saying “Well come on then! This was your idea!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I stripped off my shirt‚ trousers and boxers then walked over to the two gorgeous women making out with each other. Lara had begun to strip Kellie‚ her top and bra was already on the floor and now Lara was working on her leggings. I looked down at Kellie and saw her stunning figure. She was very lithe and skinny but had big breasts too‚ not quite as big as Lara’s but big enough to stand out in a crowd. She had a very flat stomach and incredibly slim legs. Her pussy was beautifully shaved and was glistening with Lara’s saliva and her own wetness from being so turned on. I looked at her face and saw that it was slightly long but not unattractive – she was pretty in a quirky‚ alternative way. She had deep brown eyes that you could just fall into and she would definitely be a hit in the clubs with all the horny boys. She could be no older than eighteen. For a split second‚ I felt wrong doing this to her‚ but then‚ I heard her let out a loud moan of pleasure as Lara’s tongue found her clit and then my cock stiffened again and found its way into her wide open mouth. She couldn’t take it as deep as Lara could but as soon as I put it in there I felt the cold metal of her tongue stud on my head and this instantly turned me on even more. She was moaning on to my cock as Lara attacked her pussy with her tongue and gagging every so often when my cock hit the back of her throat. She brought her hand up to start jerking me off‚ but I pushed it away‚ holding the back of her head and fucking her face as hard as I was about to fuck her pussy. I pulled out of her mouth and kissed her gently before moving behind Lara and beginning to lick her sodden pussy. She had been rubbing herself whilst fingering and licking Kellie’s pussy and was already absolutely dripping wet‚ but I added my own saliva to the mix‚ first of all sticking my tongue in her arsehole then sliding it all the way up her pussy to her clit‚ sliding my fingers into both holes simultaneously making her moan onto Kellie’s pussy. I felt her begin to buck her hips against my fingers and tongue and I spanked her‚ leaving a massive red mark on her arse‚ the ones I’d left before only just fading. I pulled away and said “swap with Kellie… I wanna taste her and fuck her… get her to lick you out… her tongue is amazing!” Lara could barely speak so she helped me move Kellie to the floor and then Lara knelt over her face‚ I watched as she felt the tongue stud against her pussy for the first time and she moaned louder then she had all day as I began to assault Kellie’s clit‚ pussy and arsehole. I began to slide my fingers in and out of her just like I did with Lara‚ and she squirmed a little at first‚ but then her hips began to buck just like Lara’s had… Turns out she was just as much of a slut as Lara was… I felt my cock stiffen and I looked at Lara’s face‚ it was contorted into the look of sheer pleasure that occurred just as she was cumming. Good‚ I thought to myself. Out loud I said “Lara‚ 69 her whilst I fuck her pussy.. I want you to be able to take both of us in your mouth…” Lara obediently bent forward and I heard a spank as Kellie got more into what was happening. I knelt up and felt Lara suck me into her gorgeous mouth and all the way to the back of her throat again‚ just to prove her supremacy at giving head‚ then forced my cock into Kellie’s tiny tight pussy. She almost screamed into Lara’s pussy as my cock penetrated her time and again with Lara’s tongue lapping at her clit. Every so often Lara would stop to cum all over Kellie’s face again and then keep licking her. I could feel myself getting closer to orgasm and for the first one‚ I wanted them both to suck me off. So I put Lara to her knees and told Kellie to do the same. They both willingly obliged. They took it in turns to suck my dick and balls respectively‚ first Lara on my cock showing Kellie just what she could do‚ then Kellie trying to imitate her and gagging so using her hand to compensate. This brought me close to orgasm and when I said “I’m gonna cum!!!” They both opened their mouths wide and my load shot across both their faces. They spent the next five minutes cleaning each other up‚ then sucking me til I was hard again. This time Lara was going to be fucked by me whilst Kellie licked her clit. They swapped positions and I began to fuck Lara’s sweet pussy looking into Kellie’s eyes as I did so. She looked so helpless‚ being fucked by two people she respected and worked with and yet she had the look in her eyes that begged for more. So I told Lara to destroy her arsehole‚ which apparently she started doing as Kellie started squealing and flicking her tongue over Lara’s clit as my cock pounded in and out. We stayed in like this for what felt like hours; my cock in Kellie’s mouth‚ then back in Lara’s pussy‚ then her arse then back in her pussy again‚ before finally‚ I pulled out of Lara’s pussy‚ pulled Kellie towards me and rammed my cock into her mouth spurting four or five times before finally being done. The two sexy dance teachers kissed and shared my cum then licked each other clean‚ before the three of us collapsed in a heap on the floor. After what felt like an age I stood up and said “We best get dressed and out of here before the cleaner’s turn up… we could all lose our jobs!” Lara gave me a sour look that said simply ‘I wasn’t finished!!!!’ So I carried on “Lara hunny‚ I’ll make it upto you this evening… I’ll be round yours in an hour… Kellie… Would you be willing to do something like this again? You’re incredibly sexy and I for one enjoyed tasting and fucking you very much…” Kellie seemed taken aback‚ but she nodded a couple of times. I smiled at the two of them sat there totally naked and couldn’t help but feel aroused again. “Lara‚ I’ll be at yours in 90 minutes…” I said as I finished getting dressed “you two… best finish up here!” I finished with a laugh as I unlocked the door and headed out to go home and shower. Sure enough‚ after waiting around for twenty or so seconds‚ I heard the lock click and soft moans issuing from the room once again. Fighting every fibre of my being‚ I left the drama class room and headed for my flat. I had a wild evening in planned for Lara‚ and I hoped it’d be one she’d never forget.
*
Ninety minutes later‚ I rang the doorbell to Lara’s house. She took a little while to answer but when she did she was just stood in her white dressing gown‚ swinging the tie in one hand. She was blocking the way in. “That was a nasty thing you did earlier… Leaving me and poor Kellie while I was still so horny…” “Lara‚ you’re always horny… now if you don’t move out the way and let me in‚ you won’t be able to have my cock again tonight now will you?” I said with a cheeky smile. She pretended to mull it over then said “This had better be good yano… You owe me!!!” I simply smiled and walked in‚ heading straight to her bedroom‚ undressing as I got there. She was right behind me and she helped remove my trousers as I slid her gown off her sleek body. “Lara.. This may be an odd question‚ but how many dildos do you have?” She looked slightly taken aback and then replied “At last count… twelve. Why?” “No reason‚ Just get me your two biggest or thickest ones.. There’s a good girl.” She looked at me again in a quizzical fashion‚ but did as she was told and got her dildos out. She placed them on the bed next to her then said “Well… What are you waiting for?!” I leapt across the room to where she was laying and instantly picked up the red dildo from the week before. I began sliding it up and down her pussy gently and teasingly at first just to get her wet and excited and she tugged at my hair as I did so‚ meaning that she wanted more already and for me to hurry up. I looked up at her whilst rubbing this dildo up and down her pussy and circling it around her entrance and she was getting more and more agitated‚ before her eyes widened as I slipped it inside her moving it in and out gently at first then faster and faster. She began to squeeze her breasts then moved one hand to her clit which she started to rub‚ matching my rhythm with the dildo. It didn’t take long before she was moaning loudly and I was getting excited. Now was to come the fun part. I pulled the dildo all the way out of her pussy and then deliberately turned her over. I spread her arse cheeks wide and slid the now soaking wet dildo deep into her arse. She once again moaned and gripped the bedsheets but she stayed still‚ not quite sure what was about to happen. I spanked her for good measure‚ then took up her second dildo. This one was a dark blue‚ not quite as long as the other one‚ but a bit thicker. This time I took no prisoners‚ slamming it straight into her pussy. She let out a cry of surprise and pleasure then I slid underneath her and she began sucking on my cock for what felt like a heavenly millionth time that day and I began to clamp my teeth down on her clit‚ flicking my tongue between them. It didn’t take long to get me supremely hard‚ so I spanked her‚ pushed her down flat onto the bed and lined my cock up with her pussy. Her dildo was still buried deep inside her and she felt me brush my cock up against her pussy once or twice. She started to say “Oh‚ My‚ God.” But never got beyond “Oh” ‘cos as soon as she started speaking‚ I slammed my cock into her pussy‚ along with her dildo. The feeling of the rubber was an odd one on my cock‚ but not unpleasant as the fake and my real cock worked inside her‚ she began to moan incredibly loudly. Seemed like she loved having her pussy stretched to the limits. I pulled out and flipped her over. I wanted to see the look on her face as the two cocks worked inside her pussy. I wasn’t disappointed. Once again she was biting her lip this time so hard a slight trickle of blood began to slide down her face. She didn’t seem to care. The pleasure of having two cocks in her pussy was so intense she was just focussing on her orgasm. It wasn’t long til I felt her pussy clench and her legs wrap around me. It was the tightest it had ever been during orgasm and she screamed the loudest she had ever screamed. I had to stop thrusting just to keep myself from cumming inside her. I wasn’t ready yet . her arsehole needed the same treatment as her pussy. She seemed to read my mind‚ as both her legs were moved to my shoulders by what seemed to be a mutual unspoken agreement‚ and I spread her arsecheeks wide once again‚ squeezing my cock inside her. I thought her pussy had been tight‚ but this… this was incredible. Every movement felt like it was gonna make me explode. Lara kept wincing‚ I couldn’t tell whether it was with pain or pleasure but she grabbed my hips and made me thrust harder so I guessed it was pleasure. She couldn’t hold on for long though and it wasn’t long til she had another screaming orgasm. This time‚ I came as well‚ filling her arsehole even more than it already was. I kept thrusting until I was done‚ moaning and groaning as I did so‚ then rolled over to lie next to her. She pulled both her toys out of herself and began licking them clean. I didn’t think it possible‚ but this made me even hornier than I had been all day‚ watching her lick her and my cum off of those cocks… She then proceeded to do the same to mine at which point I said “all better now?” She looked at me with her staggering green eyes and said “No… I need to clean you properly!” And with that she held onto my cock and dragged me to her bathroom where she turned on the shower.
We began fumbling around with the soap‚ having a bit of a laugh to begin with‚ lathering each other up and washing each other down‚ doing the generic couply thing in the shower. Then I pulled the shower head off of its attachment and plunged the whole thing deep into her pussy‚ whilst it was switched on. She nearly cried with pleasure and I began fucking her arsehole again using the water from the shower and my spit as a lube. She couldn’t keep the shower head inside her for long however‚ so I pulled out of her arse hole‚ pressed her face against the glass‚ and began fucking her pussy‚ holding the power shower over her clit. This really did drive her wild and she was trying to claw at the glass‚ anything to show the pleasure she was feeling. Before too long‚ I abandoned the shower head completely and we fucked as we had in the broom cupboard earlier‚ before she propped herself up between the wall and the glass of the shower door and I fucked her in a sitting position. She had to have me hold her up on several occasions as she lost her grip when she came‚ but everytime she did she dug her nails into me urging me on. It didn’t take long for me to shoot my load inside her‚ burying my cock into her swollen dripping wet pussy‚ and once again she dutifully sucked me clean‚ looking at me the whole time. After this we actually showered properly‚ giving each other a proper wash and clean and then had fun towelling each other off. This gave me another idea. I curled the towel and whipped her on the arse. She screamed and then tried to fight back‚ but I knew as well as she did if I kept whipping her‚ it would turn her on again and she soon submitted and begged “Take me back to the bedroom… I want to fuck you again before we sleep!” This girl was a machine!!! We went back to the bedroom‚ naked and hand in hand and this time she placed me on the bed. “I want a bit of control now!” She said and before I could do anything‚ she had lowered her pussy on to my cock and she was grinding against me. I couldn’t help but let out a groan as I watched her tits bounce up and down whilst she was fucking my cock – the feeling was amazing‚ and I could feel how deep I was going inside her‚ the gravity of her being on top helping with the force of our sex. She clawed down my chest occasionally and I reached up to squeeze those magnificent breasts. I sat up and began biting all down her body and neck as far as I could reach but she slapped me and pushed me back down‚ before standing up turning round and fucking me in reverse cowgirl. I began spanking her arse and clawing down her back but this just made her bounce up and down on me faster and harder. I reached around and began rubbing her massively swollen clit and she started moaning and groaning and reached her hands round to claw at my face and tug my hair. I started to match her rhythm with my cock pounding in and out of her as her pussy lifted up and down onto it. The feeling was ecstasy for the pair of us and I could already feel my balls tightening once again despite the amount of times I’d cum already that day. I squeezed her breasts together and with one final push‚ I began to cum inside her pussy once again. She rode out mine and her orgasm as mine had set her off then she continued to ride me for a little while before she was fully satisfied and clambered off‚ joining me in laying on the bed. I looked at her and smiled. “I like this new arrangement we have!” I said laughing. She looked at me for a long time before saying “Me too… I just wish you’d done thing’s sooner!” I nodded trying not to laugh. And then she said “And next time we have a threesome‚ I want two cocks‚ you hear me? Otherwise it’s not fair! Today you got two pussies‚ two mouths and four breasts! I got one cock!” I tried to defend myself “HEY‚ you got Kel’s tongue too!!!” But she was having none of it. “Fine‚” I finally conceded “You find a guy‚ and we’ll have a threesome with him…” If truth be told‚ I did wanna try both ways‚ and I knew from what happened earlier tonight she’d love to have more than one cock inside her at a time… maybe even having two in each hole… She rolled over‚ grabbed her phone and texted someone saying she knew just the guy. I smiled then kissed her on the lips. “Night Lara… Try not to wake me up too early…” “You’re the one that always wakes me up!” She said laughing “You always prod me in the side or the back with that thing down there!!” We both fell about laughing‚ and started to go to sleep‚ both thinking about what the next couple of days and sexual encounters would bring!
TO BE CONTINUED.
The Teacher’s Tale Part 3
“Fuck.. Fuuuuuucccckkkkkk!!!!” This was the sound being made by the gorgeous girl I was fucking and had been for the last few weeks as my balls collided with her anus whilst I pounded her pussy as hard and fast as my small frame would allow. She was clawing down my back (I couldn’t count the number of scratches I had accumulated)‚ but nothing was going to stop me. I brought my hand down upon her face and thrust deep into her again as I shot my load into her pussy again. I felt her tighten around me as I did so and she dug her nails in as deep as she could as she too let her orgasm go.
“Fuck me.” She said‚ “That was good!” I smiled wryly at her. I couldn’t help but feel that I needed to spice things up some what – Lara had such a huge sexual appetite that I felt I had to whet it somewhat just to keep her satisfied. She was the best thing I had ever had or experienced sexually but if I was to slip up then I would lose her forever. “Hunny… Whats up?” She asked looking at me with a worried look in her eye. “Wasn’t I good enough?” She seemed so downtrodden and disheartened that I just couldn’t bare it. “No of course not gorgeous you were amazing as ever… It’s just…” She looked at me “Just..?” she egged me on. “Nothing… We’re going away for a weekend. I’ll book us the hotel tomorrow morning and we’ll go tomorrow afternoon and just have a fuck fest somewhere different yeah?” I finished beaming down at her. She smiled back and said “OKAY! Anything you want me to bring???” “No‚” I said “just let me pack a bag for you before I leave and then you have to bring it… but no peeking!” She smiled and said “Oooo you’re so sexy when you’re mysterious…” As she said this she sauntered towards the bathroom. “Coming…again?” She winked and I… I couldn’t refuse. “You bet your life I am.” And I sprinted after her taking her into the shower once again.
*
Lara was driving and listening to the instructions the Sat Nav we had christened “Sally” was giving her. We had gone as far away from Pembury as we could get without it having to take us a whole day to travel. We did stop at a service station and yes‚ we did have a quickie in the backseats of the car where a policeman came and knocked on the window and I thought we were going to get arrested til Lara asked him if he’d like to join in and bring his female partner over to as well and he looked kind of sheepish and said “don’t do it again” and ran off back to his bike. This was a source of great amusement for a good hour of the journey we both fell about laughing Lara trying to concentrate on the drive after I had made her legs shake from the sex we had had not too long before. The bags I had packed were sat in the boot full of toys and other things that I wanted to use on Lara later that evening and she had kept badgering me about what was in there but I just smiled and would say “Wait and see” and go back to reading my book.
When we reached the hotel I gave the name that I had booked it under and then I ran upstairs with Lara. I could tell she was horny as she couldn’t keep still and I smirked as we got into the room and the first thing she did was throw off her clothes‚ sprawl on the bed and say in her sexy little voice “Come and get me big boy…” An offer like that one did not refuse. I went over to the bed‚ taking my top off as I did so and making sure that I had locked the door. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign swung lazily on the wrong side of the handle as my face fell into Lara’s pussy. Her legs spread wide and my tongue dived inside her‚ my fingers slipping into her arse hole. “Oooh… It’s been too long…” She moaned quietly gripping my hair hard and pulling me deeper into her pussy my nose rubbing against her engorged clit. She smelt and tasted amazing as ever and my cock was rock solid as my tongue moved in and out of her and swirled inside her‚ my fingers pumping her anus and my free hand squeezing each of her magnificent breasts in turn. I pulled my tongue out of her deciding my cock needed to be buried balls deep inside her and I rolled her legs up so her knees were by her face. She just went with it and allowed me to slide my cock deep into her pussy whilst I perched on her thighs. I dipped my cock in and out of her faster and faster deeper and deeper my balls against her clit‚ bouncing on it and making her moan gently every time my cock buried itself inside her. She was moaning and clawing my back again and squeezing my arse trying to make me cum. I pulled out of her pussy and deliberately missed‚ slamming my big wet cock into her arsehole making her scream with pleasure and pain all at once and she rocked backwards hard. I pulled out and forced her legs as far back and as far wide as they could go and began to pound her arsehole hard and fast so much so she began to cry with pain as I plunged deeper‚ harder and faster than I had ever done before. She screamed as she reached orgasm and this spurred me on‚ making me slide four fingers inside her pussy‚ spread as wide as they could making her close her eyes and moan even louder as my cock and fingers worked in tandem to bring her closer to another orgasm. She was moaning and groaning and pushing her holes onto my appendages. She groaned as another orgasm hit her and my balls began to tighten up. This was a now very familiar feeling every time Lara and I were in a room together. I pulled out of her arse hole and began to pull her down but I didn’t need to. She was on her knees in a flash and taking me in her mouth‚ this time thought only sucking my head and jerking the shaft faster and faster. She kept eye contact the whole time and began to swirl her tongue on my tip. This was nearly enough to set me off except she decided to swallow me whole then slide all the way back up my cock and play with the tip again. This sent me into overdrive and I shot my load deep into her throat which she swallowed and sucked up greedily. I looked down at her and stroked her hair smiling. She smiled back and licked her lips her tongue smacking against them as if to say “give me more!” I couldn’t believe this girl. She was utterly amazing in every aspect. Sexy and a sexaholic. Perfect. Instead of giving her what she wanted however I went into one of the bags and pulled out a slutty police officers uniform‚ some stockings and some heels. “Why don’t you go get a bath… and then come out wearing this? And then the room will be ready for you and us and our… session for later…” I said with a wink. She hurriedly took the clothes and shoes off of me and went into the bathroom. I heard the lock click and said “You better use the shower head on your clit cos if I don’t hear you moaning I’m not gonna fuck you later!” She made a noise that sounded like “Duh.” And I laughed as I prepared the room‚ picking up the phone and calling room service. “Hi‚ Yeah‚ I’d like to order some food up to the room… and could you please make sure it’s a guy that brings it up? My… girlfriend is fussy about who brings her food!” I hung up the phone and began to light the red candles I’d brought. They would go nuts downstairs if they found out I had candles but I didn’t want them to be lit for too long. I grinned as I lay out her toys on the bed along with two sets of handcuffs‚ a whip‚ a blindfold and two of her leather shackles. I grinned as I heard her moaning loudly (even if she was faking it‚ she had at least tried to please‚ and lets face it‚ she was such a nympho she probably was using the showerhead on her clit like I’d asked)‚ and finished laying everything out‚ sitting on the bed in just my boxer shorts waiting for her to come out of the bathroom in her outfit. I wasn’t waiting long.
Out she stepped of the bathroom and it took every bit of self control to stop my jaw hitting the floor. This unfortunately for me meant that my cock was unattended and sprang to life at the sight of her. Her full beautiful breasts flowing out over the top of the far too tight policewoman’s top cum dress her stockings finishing just below the bottom of the outfit‚ her legs looking sleeker and sexier than ever in the heels that I’d given her. She had a cap on hiding the top of her head and she looked up at me from under the peak. She gazed around the room. “I think I’ll have to place you under arrest. For having a too hard cock and for not fucking me quickly enough.” And upon seeing the candles she added “And for being a romantic fuck.” She swayed towards me and dropped to her knees‚ literally ripping the boxers off me and took me into her mouth for the second time that evening. I pulled her top down slightly and her breasts fell free and I looked down to see my cock almost between them. It was like she read my mind and slid her breasts around my cock‚ sucking it occasionally to make it wetter and to allow it to slide better between them. It was at one such moment that there was a knock on the door and I forced her to swallow my cock‚ lodging it at the back of her throat and shouting in a clear voice “Come in. I’m in the bathroom. Come and leave it on the bed.” In walked the guy I had asked for to come and deliver me the food I’d requested. He saw what was happening and made to run out but I shouted “WAIT!” And he stopped. “Do you not find my girlfriend sexy?” He looked and I could see a definite bulge in his pants. “We don’t have any money to tip you with… So let us tip you another way… A very good way… Let her fuck you…” He looked again. I looked down at her and whispered “Pull up your dress hunny” Which she did so with incredible speed‚ spreading her legs ever so slightly to give him a full view of her pussy. Within seconds he was behind her‚ his cock out and sliding into her pussy from behind. She moaned onto my cock‚ her vocal chords vibrating against my head and I smiled down at her and whispered “surprise!” All she could do was moan as the hotel boy slid his cock in and out of her. She took me out of her mouth and began to jerk me hard and fast but I pulled her hand away and said “On the bed. Both of you. Lara‚ on top of me…” She obeyed and I slid my cock into her arse while the other guy slipped his cock inside her pussy. In tandem we began to fuck her holes. I reached around and began squeezing her throat as both our cocks filled her as deep as they could. He was moving fast and hard as was I and I could tell he was squeezing her breasts and I could feel him pulsing and throbbing inside her every time he thrusted inside her she bucked her hips and I could feel her grind her anus onto my cock. She tried to moan but I squeezed almost all of the breath out of her throat and she bucked harder and harder and I smiled‚ releasing her throat slightly so she could breathe and she let out a long loud moan. After she orgasmed I told her to turn around and let him fuck her arse hole. She did as she was told and got on her knees before laying face down on top of me‚ my cock inside her pussy and he was just about to slip into her anus before I said “put the red one in her first” He looked down at the bed and saw the red dildo “oh and pass me the blue!” He looked and saw them both next to each other… He thought for a split second then slid the red dildo deep into her arse causing her to moan gently and passed me the blue dildo‚ which I slid into her pussy alongside my cock. I looked at her and said “Four cocks you little whore. You’re taking four cocks. And you’re going to cum harder than you ever have and it’s all because of me. You are mine and I own you and your pussy and the only reason you’re being fucked by all four cocks is because of me.” Before she could answer my hand reached her throat again and the other nameless guy slid his cock into her anus along with the red dildo and I could feel the scream build then die in her throat as my hand caught it. Both of our cocks worked her pussy and my spar hand worked on her clit. I could feel her pussy close around my cock and tighten again and again as she came repeatedly from having the four cocks – two real‚ two fake in her slutty holes and I could see tears roll down her cheeks. I could feel myself getting closer and judging by the powerfulness of the other’s thrusting so was he. “She’ll take it in her mouth.” I threw her to her knees then picked her up by the throat. “toss him off into your mouth. Do it like you did to me earlier.” And she did as she was told and she began to suck his head and jerk him into her mouth. “I want to see him cum in your mouth. Let me watch.” She opened her mouth just as the guys face contorted and his cum shot inside her. “Keep it in your mouth and toss me into you too.” She did as she was told‚ rubbing my cock harder and faster making me closer and then she began to fondle my balls which made me spurt right in her mouth. I looked her dead in the eye. “Now swallow it you dirty little slut.” And she did. She swallowed every last drop of cum in her mouth and I smiled. “Thank you sir‚ that will be all. Please enjoy the rest of your evening and remind the rest of your staff not to disturb us unless we invite them. Thank you.” Before I had even finished the first sentence he had gone out the door and down the corridor‚ pulling his trousers up and belting them so as his manager didn’t see anything wrong. The dildo’s were still inside Lara and she made to take them out. I looked at her and said “Don’t you dare!” And she replied with “That. Was fucking hot. And very naughty…” “Not anywhere as hot or naughty as this will be. On the bed. Now.” She obeyed without question and I saw the dildos being held tightly in place and affecting the way she was moving. Once she was on the bed I said “Spread ‘em!” She immediately did as she was told and I cuffed both her hands to the bars at one end of the bed and shackled her legs to the other end. I put the blindfold on her and said “Now you are truly mine…” All she did was smile and I blew out the candles‚ grabbing them as I did so. I made her suck my cock again to get me hard‚ then I began fucking her pussy again‚ making her moan and groan as I did so. This time however I poured the hot melted wax from the candles onto each of her nipples at the same time. She tried to buck but she couldn’t so she moaned loudly instead. With what was left of the wax I dripped the rest of one candle onto her clit with my cock still pounding her pussy and then with a moments hesitation‚ I slid the still hot candle deep into her arsehole. This sent her into a pain and pleasure overdrive. She spasmed and moaned and screamed and bucked and grinded on my cock making noises that no human has heard since the stone age as her most primal instincts came out and I slammed her throat and buried my fingers in her mouth to stifle some of the noise. I pulled the candle and the dildo out of her arse and then pulled my cock out of her and began to fuck her anus again. She was breathing very heavily and I could see tears glistening on her cheeks. I spanked her arse cheeks and bit down on her nipples‚ tasting the wax and making her raise slightly off the bed. I put my cock into her arsehole gently at first and I saw her visibly wince. This just made me want to fuck her harder so I did so. My big hard cock pushed against the walls of her arsehole which were roasting hot and tighter than they had been before I ever fucked her and she cried with pleas
SWINGER EVENTS AND PARTIES IN VIRGINA/MARYLAND/WASHINGTON D.C. AKA DMV
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Big Clits?
Ask Women · Big Clits? · As a big clit owner myself, I have only come across a handful of other women with big clits as well. I feel like I'm in the minority (not that I'm complaining you see, I LOVE my big clit and think it's a beautiful thing that I've been gifted naturally with it). I just feel like natural big clits are so rare, but yet all over the internet.
Feel free to share you own pics or your own experiences with having a big clit. I'd like to see if other women have had similar experiences with their own big clits.
For example: Me, my clit is big, my clit head sticks out of it's hood permanently, and is constantly rubbing against certain fabrics that I wear, leaving me constantly aroused and in need of releases. I can't wear regular panties because the fabric rubs, wearing thongs is okay because it's tighter but I also poke out of the thong too. Going commando is always an experience, the movement of walking and the fabric rubbing against me. Sometimes just standing up wearing any kind of panty sends me into a frenzy because I rub against it.
That is my biggest "problem" being a big clit owner. The constant state of arousal.
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Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1)
Help Meat (A Dystopian Tale part 1) · Fetish · There’s something in the bible I heard preached when I was very young, back when girls were still allowed to go to school. It described Eve as Adam’s “help-meet,” and went on to add that just as with the world with all its animals, women were put upon the Earth to benefit men. The reading came again a few weeks later after there had been rioting in the streets. The monotone voice again repeated that women were intended by God to be the perfect servants of men, a resource to be used and enjoyed—even harvested as sustenance to feed hungry bellies. “Let the woman return to her original purpose,” the speaker had said. “She is made for recreation, for procreation, and above all else—to nourish and sustain men.”
I was twelve when I was taken from my family. I have no idea what became of my mother and two younger sisters, for they had vanished like so many women and blemished girls. My older sister still lives, as far as I know, doing one of the many things attractive girls must do. As for me, my name is Dani, and at fourteen years old I’m almost to the age of usefulness. This camp that I am staying at is actually meant to deprogram boys and teach them God’s will. Each camper is assigned a girl as his project on the first day. For one month that boy is expected to work with his girl, doing his best to ready her for service. This involves a lot of coaching, as our thoughts too, were in need of correction. My boy is Pete, a tall lanky youth with thin hands. Once Pete had played the piano, but now I’m his instrument.
The first part of each day I must spend in the tank. For three hours I’m required to swim without resting—never touching the sides unless absolutely necessary. I am of course naked as all girls are. We can wear robes when we get chilly. But if a male staff member should cross our path, we are to uncover ourselves for his inspection. For we females are lowly creatures. Such things as privacy or pride are a male privilege only.
It would not be so bad, except for the blistering summer heat. The men are never too concerned, since girls are not to live long anyway. But at least most places around the park are protected somehow. The tank where I swim has a wooden overhang. Even the walkways we girls take to get to our meals have covers overhead.
It is a Tuesday and I have finished my swim. I towel off my chilled body, and then I await the arrival of my coach. At age fourteen my breasts are now at last showing promise. I suppose I would be into a C cup by now, if such a thing as bras still existed. Pete will focus on my breasts first in his obsession to make them larger.
I pad into the empty gymnasium beside my tank, starting on the bench press to strengthen my pecs. After this I do my sets of push-ups, followed by cable flies. Pete enters the gym and quietly watches me as I work, his gaze on my chest as I separate my arms. “Done pullovers yet?” he asks, and I shake my head. “Pull downs?” No. Another negative. “You’re behind, Dani.”
I nod, and as I stand, he gestures me over to the freestyle weights. We work together for about an hour, and Pete makes me repeat the sets he missed. “Now stand before me,” he commands in his bossiest voice. I obey at once, my head turning sideways as his hands massage my breasts.
I tense when he takes my nipples and pinches them gently, rolling them thoughtfully between his fingers.
“Your sister’s tits are huge,” Pete says, “So I know we can get you there, too.” He cradles my right breast, rubbing it firmly between his palms. “She’s a swimmer, isn’t she? That’s the work I want for you. It’ll keep you cool in the summer. During the winter they heat the water so it’s no big deal.”
I nod, thinking of my many long hours each day in the smaller tank behind the aquarium, away from the public’s view. The large glass container had once held salt water and fish, but now the water was pure, slightly warmed and clear. All the girls in the performance pool out front are at least seventeen, with thin waists and jewelry adorned breasts that sway and bob as they move. Some are costumed as mermaids, while others crouch before the underwater glass, spreading their legs for the men on the level below to see. It is a millionaire’s club—or a billionaire’s club. I’m not sure which and I guess it doesn’t matter. Though now I see the police in the parking lots, too. The elite who run this club favor the town’s sheriff, a greasy fat man who supplies them with the prettiest girls.
Pete is crouching before me, his knees spreading my thighs where I stand, then pulling apart my girlhood with his fingers. I continue to look away, my eyes closed as I feel one finger find the wet spot between my legs. He rubs gently, a slow circular motion that spreads my fluids out, making me slippery in every crevice. Then he slides one finger slowly in. I open my mouth, licking my lips as the finger crooks and explores my interior. Pete pulls it back out and shows it to me, flecked white with my juices. He returns to his work, separating my folds and spreading them flat. Two fingers sink in, reaching upward as far as they can. Pete is holding my buttocks close to his chest, his arm cocked as more fingers glide in. Four fingers now, clamped together to form a funnel.
“What are women for, Dani?” Pete asks. He is up on his knees, his strong arms around me.
“To . . .” I am panting. “Please men!”
“Exactly.” Pete tucks his thumb into the funnel of his half-inserted fingers. “Slow and easy,” he croons. I feel the skin around my opening stretch wide almost to tearing.
Remembering my previous sessions, I breathe slowly, deeply, and relax my legs. “Good girl,” Pete observes. His strong arm holds me steady as he works. “Now what is God’s will?”
“That I should please men,” I answer. I lean over his head, my fingers grabbing his hair. He is tilting his hand slowly from side to side, softening the mouth of my pussy even more.
“Dani,” he admonishes. “You’re trying too hard. Shall we give you your pill?”
“Y-yes!” I cry. Smiling, he reaches into his pocket and produces the tiny tablet. I swallow it quickly, gratefully, and then droop forward again, my soft breasts draping over his head.
He continues to smile, his hand maintaining the gentle rocking. His four fingers are half inside me, with the added girth of his thumb. He rotates his hand in a circular motion, tilting it up and down, and then side to side. I am feeling the heaviness begin in my legs. My tongue goes dry, cottony. I feel my eyelids drooping. He removes his hand and lowers me onto my back, his hands separating first my petals, and then my opening. I hear the pumping sound as he squirts lube through a tiny straw directly inside me. “Gently now,” he breathes.
I close my eyes. The fingers are stretching me more with every movement, and I feel them pushing, working their way in. Pete has my pelvis lifted—pillowed on his thigh. My legs are up and flopped to each side, my feet dangling close to my shoulders. The pressure continues as the fingers twist, as more of the thumb makes it in. I feel my muscles submitting around his hand, the tight sensation easing somewhat. There is one more hard push, and then he is in me, embraced by my flesh, his entire hand delving inward.
I am drifting with the currents of the drug, feeling his hand pressing me out, the fingers turning to expand my interior. He progresses until his knuckles touch my cervix. I let out a gasp, though my sleepy eyes are closed.
“Now listen to my voice,” he says. “This camp is about preparing you girls to be women in this new world. Proper women—not like what you were before. The grownups can’t do it. There are strict laws against pedophilia now. But they can watch if they want to, because they are men, and men can do whatever they want.”
“Whatever they want,” I repeat dully.
“This is the first time I’ve had my whole hand inside you,” he tells me. “You’re so amazing, Dani. I am proud of you.”
I nod as his hand glides in and out, exits and re-enters my body. I feel fluid dripping down, the feathery touch of his fingertips on my clit. With every stroke my body submits more, my muscles softening under the pressure and pull of his hand. He seems tireless as he works, his muscles rippling in his arm as he changes angles, sinking deeper than before, touching places no one’s been. He motions me to cross my ankles, then lifts my legs over my belly, holding them aloft with his hand behind my knees. He rolls into a crouch, and now uses the weight of his arm to drive quickly in and out. I grunt rhythmically with each penetration. More liquid dribbles where I can feel it. I can see his hand glistening as it withdraws, his tanned smooth skin flecked white with my juices. He enters again and pauses, then speeds up his tempo, the hand barely entering before snapping back out. I am loose now around his wrist, my flesh yielding as he turns and angles and stretches. Then once more he resumes the deep plunges. A whole hour passes and still Pete works. He is panting hard with exertion, sweat trickling down his neck. I climax twice and still he continues, his face sprayed with my fluids.
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete soothes as he works. “I’ve made a device I want you to wear to bed tonight, and every night. It’ll be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Okay,” I mumble groggily.
“As much as I’m loosening you right now, in an hour you’ll be tight as a drum again, maybe even more. We need to keep training your body. It must remember how to open, be readily accessible whenever men want it. Most men want to fist, but rarely are willing to do the work. So you must do it for them. Understand?”
I close my eyes as Pete lowers my legs. Now he raises one to his shoulder, my other one dangling free. He rolls again to his knees, and lifts my pelvis with him. The hand is gliding in and out, so effortless I barely feel him.
Then finally he withdraws and sets me down, wiping me out gently with a warmed washcloth. I feel him strap something around my waist. Then something firm and cold slides in. There is a pull and click of a buckle in front, and then another behind. “There,” Pete says in satisfaction. “That’ll hold it in place. Wear this for the rest of the day, ok? And to bed tonight. Over time we’ll swap this out—graduating to larger sizes. But this is good to start.”
“You do nice work,” an older voice said. “Keep track of her depth from now on. Vagina and rectal both, if or when you get that far. You can pass the info on to the next boy assigned to her. I was wondering.” The doctor eyed Pete speculatively. “If you’d like to stay on after next week. Work part time here while you’re going to school.”
“What would I do?” Pete went to the sink to wash his fingers. I climb to my feet, staring at the length of black leather around my waist. I could feel the object hard within me, and the trickle of fluids down my leg.
“Help train the new boys coming in,” the doctor said. “You could also measure these girls and keep a spreadsheet. The measurer’s in your kit. Have you used it yet?”
The doctor turned and I lost track of the voices. My insides were warm and pleasantly achy, the area between my legs throbbing.
“It’s a deal then,” the doctor said in a hearty voice. “Good. I’ve been watching you work and I recognize your skill. It’s not just about getting as much as you can to fit. It’s an artform—as you know. A kind of dance.”
I like to think I’m helping her reach her full potential.”
The doctor coughs. “That’s a great way to see it,” he says. “The value of the woman depends entirely upon her usefulness. Even those we harvest for food—even they have more purpose in life than a woman left on her own.”
There was a pause as the doctor sauntered off. Then I felt Pete’s hand on my bare shoulder. “Think you can walk with that thing?” he asks. I nod slowly and take a few steps.
***
“Get your holes nicely stuffed?” Breanne glares at me across the aisle. The barn is chilly today, its high rafters filled with the chatter of small birds. I sprawl sideways on my bunk, the highest of a stack of three. The barn has been styled in the manner of the Auschwitz prisoner barracks, with long narrow rows of bunks. There are three rows altogether, with the capacity to hold ninety girls in one barn. We have numbers assigned to us, too, like the residents of the Nazi camps. Only ours are hidden—tiny microchips beneath our skin.
I shrug. The blond girl hates me intensely. “Just the one,” I respond.
“She’s jealous of Pete,” another girl quipped. This was Diane, a fiery redhead that the men favored.
“I am not!” Breanne returns hotly. “I just hate how she just lays there. Like she’s not even alive! And look. He’s put a spacer inside her. Gonna stretch her nice and wide!”
I glare at the rafters, my arms pillowing my head. “We’re supposed to stay open, aren’t we?"
“No, we’re supposed to fight!” snarls Breanne. “We are human beings, not livestock. How dare they?”
Another girl peeks out from under my bunk, her raven hair swirling down her arm. “They are following God’s word,” she says. “Have you read it? Women were made for the happiness of men; it’s very clear in the bible. Adam was unhappy, and so God made him a help meet. That’s us. We are here to help however we can.”
“Help the men?” Breanne growls the words. “By letting them torture us? Have you heard the cries from the barn on the hill? Or letting them harvest our bodies as if we are cattle? They have women attached to machines for at least two years. All those women do all day is hang there and produce milk. That’s slavery!”
“The men rule over us.” Helen replies, her blue eyes meeting mine. I like my bunk mate. She is a year younger than me. And just like Helen Burns her namesake from Jane Eyre, she is a calming influence, and very smart. “They decide where we fit the best—where we can be the most useful.”
“And if the men decide you’re best at being ground into hamburger—”
Helen shrugs. “I’m not ugly, so I doubt that would happen.”
I tune them out and return my gaze to the rafters. The dildo inside me isn’t so uncomfortable if I stay on my back.
The girls go on talking around me, Breanne expressing her outrage over my docile behavior.
“She’ll live longer,” Helen says from beneath me. “But with that attitude, Breanne, you might find yourself at the torture barn.”
The torture barn. My innards writhe at the thought, for like everyone else I hear stories. Some men like happy things to do with women, appreciating the beauty of our form, or even our taste alongside beans and potatoes. But not all men have the same needs. The torture barn caters to a gentlemen’s club, and the unfortunate girls carted off into the forest are never again seen. But they are heard. Late at night if I happen to wake, I can catch the sounds of the far-off screaming. Not all the girls cry out. But when they do, the terrifying cries echo in my ears, haunting my thoughts for days to come.
***
I hear the bell for dinner and jump from my bunk, wincing as the dildo bruises me inside. The food is good here. They feed us as though we are prized pigs. Everything is organic and healthy—superfoods to keep us tasty if or when they decide to harvest our meat. I attack my meal with gusto as I do every night. It is a plate of peeled carrots, topped with chickpeas, pumpkin and sunflower seeds, and hemp hearts. Added to the mix is ginger powder, a splash of apple cider vinegar, and nutritious yeast. It is delicious and I eat every forkful, washing it down with a glass of iced mushroom coffee.
Doctor Burns appears behind our tables and saunters slowly, his hands behind his back, to the dais up front. The boys from the camp appear in his wake, each carrying a chair that they place beside our tables. The doctor plugs in the microphone at the back of the dais, then gives it a tap to call the room to order. “Pete Jennings,” he calls in his ringing voice. “Has your girl finished her dinner?”
Pete stands slowly and glances my way. “She has, Dr. Burns.”
“Excellent!” the doctor exclaims. “Bring her forward along with your tools.”
I tense as I stand, the skin prickling behind my neck. The doctor continues to address the entire room. “This boy performs in ways that outstrips some of our best full-time trainers; hence I have asked him to stay on as part of our staff. I thought it might benefit the rest of you boys to observe his techniques. Peter,” the doctor gestures to the table being wheeled onto the dais. “Do you have everything you need for a demonstration of your skills?”
Peter frowns at me as I step to his side, then turning his body in such a way as to hide his right hand, he passes me the little pill to help me relax. I turn away, gulping it down quickly as I climb shakily onto the table. He gestures me onto my back, then nods toward the doctor.
“What now, Sir?”
The doctor seats himself in front of our tables. “Pretend we’re not here. Consider this another session. Business as usual.”
I close my eyes and will myself to sleep. Pete’s hands are on my breasts, kneading them firmly. He pauses as he works, leaning over to finger my clit.
I breathe deeply, a wave of fatigue creeping down my limbs. Pete takes his time with my breasts, his fingers digging through the tissue to find my muscles.
“Why do that?” One boy calls from the left side of the room.
When Pete fails to respond, the doctor speaks for him. “It gets her juices flowing. You should be doing this, too—all of you. A lot of men still get off on the breasts. Better to have our girls ready for whatever comes.”
I float with the effects of the drug, my legs raising up as Pete slides them into the stirrups. He lifts me to the point that I feel a breeze between my buttocks and the cushion I am on. The design of this table is alien to me, appearing to have been created for this purpose. It has a light that Pete switches on to shine between my legs, fully illuminating my groin.
He loosens my belt deftly and slides out the dripping dildo, setting it aside on the bench beside the table. His fingers glide up inside me, two and then three, turning slowly as he applies a slight pressure. He takes his time, bending low to explore my interior and gaping me as he has done before. He adds lube to his hand, then twists in effortlessly, his elbow turning this way and that as he expands my interior. I let my head droop to the side, feeling the drool running down my cheek. The fisting continues for what seems like forever. Pete glides slowly in and out, focusing fully on his objective. His fingers form a fist at my core, his knuckles rubbing against my cervix. Then he draws out his hand with a squelching sound, his fingers glistening.
“If she was a year older, he could double it now,” the doctor says. “Have any of you boys gotten to that part in your books?”
A few raise their hands. Smiling, Peter glances at his fellow campers hurrying to gather around the table. “She’s not fighting you at all,” one observes, staring down. A boy moves next to Pete, his fingers reaching in to spread my folds back, making the entry and exit of Pete’s hand more visible in the light. A few boys trade places with Pete, their hands penetrating me as Pete’s had done, so smoothly I barely notice. I am aware of hands holding my buttocks, lifting my pelvis even higher. Pete’s arm is in me again, the elbow rising and falling, the wet sounds filling my ears.
“She’s a good girl,” Pete said. He is rotating his fisting hand carefully, massaging my sore interior.
***
That night I sleep without the dildo. It is Pete’s idea, since I worked so hard today. I watch a girl braid Breanne’s hair as sleep eludes me. The girls are the rebels in our group, but tonight they seem subdued, as if Diane’s threat of the torture
barn still lingered in their heads. Horror stories abounded of the torture barn. No death was easy there.
“If we’re dead, we can’t fight back,” I hear one of the girls say.
“We can’t resist them,” whispers the other. “Christianity has taken this country completely. It’s worse than Afghanistan now.”
“I don’t know about that,” Breanne says. “They’re probably just as bad. They don’t have red meat, either, right? And real men can’t live without it. Show me a man who’s vegan and I will bet you my last penny he’s gay.”
Pete eats meat, I think as I drift off, dreaming obscurely of men wearing dresses and swimming in the tank with mermaid tails.
***
The new day brings a blast of chilled air onto my face as I jerk awake. The barn doors are open, the bell ringing us girls to breakfast. I stop absently for my shot as I leave the barn, then trot naked, the third in a long line of sleepy nude bodies. The boys and men pause grinning to watch us, and I avoid their eyes as a proper girl should.
Our breakfast is oatmeal, with raisins and honey. Once again it is the best oats money could buy—seeded organic oats with fresh moist raisins. We top this with cold milk and drink it down with mushroom coffee. Dessert is an orange, thin skinned and bursting with juice.
***
I sink into the water of the tank and breast-stroke to the other side. Watching me, Pete frowns. “What have I said about shaking loose first?” He crouches beside the pool and I swim to a stop below him. “Your muscles support your breasts,” he said. “But they are separate. To be a swimmer your breasts must move freely with the water. They cannot be tethered to your muscles. Now go on; assume the position.”
I nod and reach downward with my arms, my legs beneath me as I pretend to crawl on my hands and knees. I hold my arms away from my body and jerk my knees forward and back, the motion of the water catching my breasts, dragging them to and fro. I double my speed until my breasts are flopping back and forth. Then I change my movement, scissor kicking my legs to make my flesh jerk upward and down. Pete is nodding above me.
“It’s good practice letting them hang. This is the position the milkers take. The breasts dangle from your ribcage, the weight of the milk drawn away from the rest of your body. Used to be a girl could produce twenty-five ounces to thirty ounces daily. That was three years ago. Now most of our women pump out fifty ounces per day, with some coming close to a half gallon. The eventual goal is a whole gallon. A carton’s worth per woman. And who knows? With drugs they might pull it off.”
I flip onto my back and swim where Pete can see, the tissue over my ribcage bobbing easily in the water—rippling with the waves. I turn back, pivoting toward Pete.
I start when I find him treading water beside me in his loose red swim trunks. “All girls become milkers eventually. You need to get used to it.” He turns me in the water, then grasps my nearest breast and pulls it downward, squeezing it hard. “Being handled by men, I mean. Once you are a swimmer, you’ll be given the Somatotropin to help your breasts grow. Milkers get huge, you know, which is why they hang from slings. They cannot walk anymore. Or at least not far. Which is why we need to make your muscles stronger for all the weight you’ll support one day. Here,” he says, and hands me over a pool noodle. Seeing my confusion, he gestures. “Tuck it under your arms so it supports you from behind. I’m going to try something new before you swim.”
Mystified, I obey, and Pete pushes at me until my head bumps the wall. “Hold onto the ladder. I don’t want you drifting.”
I grip the rungs, and lay back. My breasts float and point skyward, jiggling under the sun. Pete turns my body, gripping the edge of the pool with one hand—then twists his other into the softness between my legs.
I tense at the coolness of the water entering me. Pete works his hand inside me, the lube making a patch of oil on the water under his chin. “Spread your legs wide. I can’t do it for you.”
I obey as best as I can. The arm pushes in past the wrist, and turns, and I shiver at the water that is sucked in with it, a chillness he pushes deeper before drawing his hand out. He catches one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. Then he fists me steadily, the water entering me again. “A good washing after yesterday,” he says with a grin. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasp, eyeing the white haze forming about me, my fluids snaking around us both.
“I thought it would ease some of the burning. All that work yesterday.”
I recline as far as I can, my one leg bobbing in the tank’s current. With every stroke, Pete angles his wrist deliberately to invite more water in, the coolness filling my depths along with his hand, easing the heat I didn’t realize I had.”
“You’re a good girl, Dani,” Pete croons as he works. “I’m giving you the rest of today off after your swim. Keep the dildo inside you if you can. Even when you’re not in bed and walking around. We need to keep your body open until the men want it —teach it to be accessible at all times, like I’ve said. Most men want to fist, but rarely want to do the work. Do you remember what is most important?”
I nod. “Pleasing the man.”
“Or men,” Pete corrects me. “Sometimes there’ll be men. No matter what they do, or how roughly they do it, you need to always look for ways to please—however they want you to.”
“What if they want to kill me?”
There is a strained pause. Pete stops his hand, his knuckles gently massaging my cervix. “That, too,” he says finally. “A woman with uses is a woman fulfilled. If they kill you for their pleasure, then your life has not been wasted. You’ll be processed into meat and you’ll serve a second purpose—to fill their bellies. Not many women get to have multiple ways to find meaning for their life. That’s why the girls who go up the hill are the luckiest of all.”
I gape at him. “But they’re tortured!”
He sighs, and his hand resumes its work. “It’s just foreplay, Dani. Just a different kind. Those women pleasure the men first, and then feed them. Compare that to an ugly girl who gets carted off from her home, never to be seen again. She serves one purpose only. Just one. Do you think she’ll be remembered for that? No. But you will, and so will the girls on the hill. You represent a pleasant memory for a man. Or perhaps for many men. Isn’t that lucky?”
I nod, genuinely believing it after he puts it that way. But Pete is not finished. He wrinkles his brow, as if trying to remember words he had read. “God created men,” he recites slowly. “We are his creations, and in following our creator’s example, we made women from our rib. You are created from men. We are your gods. Don’t you want to please us?”
I raise my leg from his shoulder in response and cock it high over my chest. Pete, grinning approvingly, turns slightly to drive in his fist.
“So . . . it’s a good thing to go up the hill?”
Pete pats my hip. “All women die young,” he says gently. “Seems to me the more useful the death, the better. The men in that club aren’t so bad. They simply have different tastes than other men. I’ve heard it said that their methods are creative, but for the woman there is always a lot of pain. I think you should try to be like your sister. In a year or two your breasts will be strong and big. You will bring lots of pleasure to the men who visit us here. It’s a good club. Even when you enter your last phase and become a milker—you’ll see. I hear they even have movie nights for the dairy girls.
Useful. The word echoes in my ears as I stare beyond the buildings.
I go the rest of the day with the dildo inside me. I have the belt around my waist to hold it in, and I have to be careful when I sit on the bench for dinner. I can feel my fluids leaking onto the seat—a trickle I try discreetly to wipe with my hands.
***
The next day I wake early and tiptoe out to greet the sun. The road into the foothills has mist covering its base. During the night I had roused to the familiar sound of the old truck’s engine. A girl had been taken up to the barn in the hills. All night
I had stayed awake listening for sounds of screaming. But this death had been a silent one.
I ask Pete about it during my swim. He sits on a chair working on his computer. He is a junior in High School, and though he is at camp, he still has several projects he needs to finish before the fall quarter begins.
“Oh, did they?” Pete glances at the forest behind our heads. “I didn’t hear it. But your barn is closer to the road than our cabins.
“Did they give her something?” I asked. “Like you give me?”
Pete shakes his head. His blue eyes are fierce as he glares at his computer. “Drugs taint the meat, so no they wouldn’t. They just haven’t . . . done her yet. They might be collecting several girls for something. They do that, you know. Work on more than one per night. If it’s a weekend thing they usually have a barbeque after. They do if it’s sunny, that is.”
I lick my lips, punching the water rapidly with both fists. Pete glances down at my jiggling breasts and grins. “Does this really make them grow?” I ask, wanting to change the subject.
Pete laughs. “Nah. I just read a lot so I can sound smarter than I am, and some of this stuff I make up as I go. But it does make sense. Weight lifting makes muscles bigger. Whether or not it makes your tits grow, who knows? But I do know they’ll end up huge eventually. Your owners will see to it in their quest for more milk. I’m surprised you’re not getting the shots yet.”
I nod, and hearing the chime of the clock go off, climb shakily up the ladder. I stand beside Pete, water sluicing down my legs. He gestures approvingly at the dildo still strapped inside my body. “Good girl, Dani. Way to take the initiative.”
“You said I needed to open easily.”
He stands and sets down his laptop. Taking me by the shoulders, he stares into my face. “You really mean it, don’t you? You do want to please.”
Tears burn in my eyes. “More than anything. I want to do what’s right,” I manage. “I thought God created women, too. That’s what my mother said. But—” He was emphatically shaking his head. “I know better now, Pete. And I’m sorry if I ever angered you or did anything disrespectful.”
“Hush now; you’re fine.” He smiles at me, genuine affection on his handsome face. “Come, let’s get you on your table.”
I follow him into the grooming room with its black and white checked floor and big basin sink. There are six tables in a row. What had once been chiropractic tables had been modified so a girl could lay face-down on her belly with her breasts poking through. I settle myself, hearing the squirt of oil from a bottle beneath me. Pete massages the liquid onto my cooled skin. My breasts follow his touch like magnets, the nipples clinging to his hands as if begging for more. He kneads deeply for a time and pulls, sliding the nipples between his fingers. “I do think you’re bigger. Not as big as your sister yet, but there’s definitely some heft here.” He cradles each breast—testing their weight. “How old are you?”
I think about my birthday. “What month is it?” I ask.
“It’s August,” he said. “August third.”
“My birthday was July 31st,” I tell him. “I’m fifteen now.”
“Fifteen. So, we’re now just a year apart in our ages.” He reaches up over the table and presses my back hard against the mat. “Strain down to me,” he commands. “Fill my hands.”
I obey, turning my head to press my cheek into the bed. He grasps each breast one at a time between his hands and tugs downward, the contours of his palms grinding into my tissue. Then he presses up through the flesh, his fingers massaging my muscles.
“I do get some kind of shots,” I tell him finally. “They’re just vitamins though. That’s what they tell us in the barn. Do you think—”
“No, that’s either the Somatotropin for humans I told you about, or something like it.” His heavy breathing pauses beneath me, his knuckles grinding into my breast. “I’m glad they’ve started you on it early. You’ll get big very soon. Bigger than your sister, probably. You should see the ones in the milk barn. They’re actually kind of ugly,” he muses, “by the time they get so big. The slings keep the girls from having to see how bloated they are. And their nipples are as fat as this or bigger!” He brandishes his thumb. “All purple and swollen. As long as my thumb, too!”
Sighing, I close my eyes. The knuckles are mashing into my tissue, my own nipples growing sensitive and hard. I feel the fluid welling again around the dildo. It dribbles onto the table, dripping to Pete’s head.
“God, you’re wet! Here.” Rising to his feet, he reaches around my waist to release the dildo. It jettisons out with a rush of warmth to land with a thump on the floor. “Nice!” Pete exclaims. “See Dani, this is exactly what the men want to see. A female dripping and ready for work, begging to be opened inside. Here.”
He raises the table to his waist. Then standing beside me, slides one whole hand in past his wrist. “Oh!” he exclaims. “Look at you!” Delighted, he moves between my legs, cocking my knees up until my toes touch my rump. With gusto he fists hard into my depths. Then grinning, he shows me his hand, the pale liquid dripping. “Should we try to double fist?” he asks as he resumes. “You’re fifteen now. I bet you’re ready. You’re certainly wet enough.”
I draw a deep breath, eyeing his hands. “If you think I can.”
“Absolutely.” He reaches into his pocket, then hands me a pill. I quickly shake my head.
“I want to feel it as much as I can,” I told him. “I like how it feels. Please, I’ll relax.”
He studies me briefly, then again takes position. I feel his hand gliding in deep, then slowly withdraw as more fingers hug his wrist. “Dani, I want you to think about opening yourself,” he says. He enters cautiously, the new fingers forming into the palm of his fist, sliding gradually in as he twists. The skin around the entrance to my cunt springs tight, painful to the point of tearing. I feel his every movement, each tiny adjustment making me hiss. “Easy,” he urges.
I breathe deeply as I fight to relax, imagining the mouth of my opening yawning wide to meet him. I feel a sudden stabbing pain just inside my vagina, and then another on the opposite side. I have the sensation of being poked three more times around my entrance, but there is numbness now. “Just a little novocaine,” Pete is saying. “There, that should help”
I feel the twisting continue, the pressure deeper now, as if the tightness at my threshold has ceased to exist. The hardness of his hands is rotating slowly, sinking down into my core. There is a sucking resistance as he pulls his hands outward, and I gasp in pain. Then I feel a pricking deep inside, and spot one of his hands between my legs. He is holding a syringe with a very long needle—guiding it carefully in. Another prick I barely feel, followed by another further in. “I know we’re cheating,” he says. “But I want this done right.”
Once again his hands penetrate my body, the walls of my numbed flesh yielding. He groans in delight, his entwined hands twisting hard and fast to loosen me up. “Let’s get you soft while the novocaine lasts,” he mutters. “I didn’t give you very much.” His body rocks as he fists; he is grunting softly in his throat.
“You’re doing so good,” he says, and before I can react, he plunges again, twisting eagerly to reach my cervix. Then he is out, and back in, his hands glistening. He pauses to turn me onto my side. “Can you hold your left foot over your head?”
I obey, holding my leg as far forward and up as I can. He cocks back my right leg with his knee, then drives into me steadily, his two hands as one gliding effortlessly in and out. Fluids are trickling down my right thigh as I writhe on the table. I am starting to feel it, the wide-open stretch and the massage deep within. He pulls out as my fluids gush, then wipes his face with his arm briefly before resuming his work. With my hypersensitive skin it feels incredible, every nerve on fire as his hands punch deep. The sound of my wetness is loud in the grooming room. The world is spinning around me. And still the pounding continues, the sliding of my body up and down on the table.
I pass out at some point, yet dimly I am aware of Pete turning me onto my back, raising my knees to secure them to the rings above the bed. My legs are opened and tied, so widely spread I can feel the tendons at my groin stretching. His two hands enter me again, alternating one and then the other, the hands inside no longer entwined, one sliding in as the other glides out. It goes on like that for what seems like hours, but then, abruptly, it stops. I feel Pete’s hands stretching the entrance of my pussy, pausing just inside and pulling me apart.
“What are you doing?” I mumble.
“I’m gaping you,” he tells me. “Something else men like to do. To see inside after they work. I can see very clearly inside you, Dani. You’ve done very well today.”
I feel my face flame hot. “Do I have to be a milker?”
He pats my thigh, then opens me wider as he bends for a long look. “Don’t be embarrassed now. Pleasing the man, remember?”
I nod, breathing deeply.
“Dani, milkers live two years longer at least. Don’t you want that? You’ll get to have a baby, too. If you’re really lucky, it’ll be a boy!”
“But I won’t get to raise him. They’ll take him away.”
“Girls cannot be trusted with such important work,” he agrees. “The church raises babies for you now. Besides, you’ll be too busy providing milk. For him, and everyone else. Girl’s milk goes into everything, you know. You drank some this morning.”
“I don’t want purple nipples,” I pout. I glare at the ceiling, feeling Pete’s hands deep within me, the entwined fingers holding still, as if feeling my body’s pulse.
“You won’t see them,” he says. “The breasts hang out of your sight, with bracers to support the weight. You forget they’re there after a while, or so I’ve been told by a reliable source. But think of it, Dani. All the healthiest food you can possibly eat. And movies! You get to watch movies!”
I close my eyes. The hands are turning within me, pressing me out. “If I don’t become a milker,” I venture to say. “What then?”
He sighs and the hands stop. “Well,” he says slowly, “if it turns out you can’t have a baby, you’d come to the end of your journey, wouldn’t you? They’d either take you up the hill to entertain those men, or you’d go to the processing plant, which is much more likely. I haven’t seen how it’s done, but I’ve heard there’s some kind of machine that does it really quick. You wouldn’t even feel it.”
I lick my lips. His hands are moving again, gliding slowly in and out. I try to relax despite my raised hips and widely spread legs. He is fisting me with his hands entwined, pumping me vigorously with loud squelching sounds. I am drifting again, my feet going numb from the straps under my knees. I see two men enter the grooming room and stop to watch Pete work. They are talking in low murmurs, their voices appreciative—praising his efforts. One shines a light in when Pete stops to gape me, the two faces rapt as they peer between my legs. My guts squirm as the men take their time, scrutinizing my interior and taking pictures as they talk to Pete.
“Have you done anal yet?” The taller man asks.
“Yeh,” his companion says, leaning down so I see his face. “First, why not tell her everything, boy? We work at the plant, little Miss. Wanna hear how it’ll go down? A knock on the side of your head to stun you first, see?” He taps his temple. “Then we’ll pop you into the D, D and D device. As in decapitate, dismember, and disembowel. All done by one machine. Thwack, thwack, thwack it goes, and It’s very quick, as your coach boy says. Then someone like old Jake here will get to wash out your torso and cut it in half, then a quick acid dip to loosen breast tissue and skin. And then what, Jake? Scraping, the stamp on the rump, and then the freezer?”
Jake’s mouth twitched. “Something like that. But it’s one big chunk, not three. The head and limbs come off simultaneously.” He stares at Pete. “I hear you’re talented, boy. I want to see your hand up her ass.”
“Not yet,” says Pete tightly. “One new thing at a time. I’ve been vagina fisting her for two straight hours and my hands are tired. I had to numb her up to get two inside. I’ve had enough for one day.”
“Then there was the time the machine wasn’t calibrated right,” the shorter man says. He leers at me, waggling his eyebrows. “Cut her head cleanly in half—it was something to see, I’ll tell you.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow to watch,” the man called Jake says. “We’re not allowed to work on these girls. We only ever see them in pieces.”
Pete clears his throat. “It’s a date. Though I warn you gentlemen, I doubt I’ll get my hand in. She’s never done anal before.”
The two men start for the door. “Oh, you’ll get it in,” the shorter man calls. “We won’t leave tomorrow so easily as today.”
I lay still as the door clicks shut. The cold air wafts between my legs, my fluids chilling my naked skin. Pete is squirting something soothing inside me, using one hand to push it deep. He wipes my exterior with a warm washcloth, clicking his tongue as he releases my legs. “What did I say is most important,” he asks.
I try to swallow. “Pleasing the men.”
He takes my hand and helps me sit up. “Exactly, Dani. Pleasing men. Those men in particular are very dangerous. There’s nothing I can do; as men they have the right to watch. So, we need to get you ready for tomorrow. Do you know what anal is?”
I draw a quick shaky breath. “A kind of fisting?”
“Yes.” Pete sets a pillow on the table, then gestures me onto my stomach. He raises my hips from behind, moving the pillow until it elevates my pelvis. “Only from the back. From here.” He taps my rosebud, as my mother once called it, the one private place I still have. “This is another thing a lot of men like. In fact . . .” Pete slathers on a thick lubricant, using one finger to poke some in. “Men like to see both holes fisted at once. A girl being fully utilized. If they could, they’d stick their penises in your mouth, too. But that kind of thing’s not allowed at this club.”
I accept the drug Pete gives me. Laying on my stomach, I wait as Pete stands beside me. Gradually I feel the weight of my head compressing my cheek on the table. I am drawing deep breaths, sinking rapidly into slumber. Vaguely I am aware of pain as my anus stretches, feeling oddly embarrassed like I’m going to the bathroom. I feel a hard object at first, something small graduating to big, making a pumping noise beside my head. The object is turning within me, straining my anus at different angles. Then it is gone and I feel Pete’s fingers.
Motionless, I try to sleep, relaxing my body as much as I can. The fingers twist slowly in and out. Then there is the object again, with more pumping sounds and the pain of stretching. Now it is Pete’s whole hand working its way in. Fingers are gaping me from behind, then the hand Is pushing inward, slimy with lube. Pete is inside me now, his hand a firm pressure as my tissues guide his way. He leans into me as he turns his arm. I feel the ball of his fist pressing my innards. His other hand enters my vagina, and begins to fist very gently. Groggily I splay my legs, lifting one from behind to give him room.
“You still in here?” A boy asked from the doorway. “It’s past dinner time, you know. I saved you a hot dog.”
Pete pauses in his work, breathing hard. “Trent. Can you help me with something?”
“Sure!” The larger boy hurries to the table. I am aware but not aware, drool soaking the table under my cheek.
“We have a problem. You can’t tell anyone, promise?”
“Promise!” Trent exclaims. “What do you want me to do?”
I blink, feeling the hand in my rectum slowly draw out. “Have you done anal?” Pete asks.
“Not yet.”
“Let me see your hand.” Another pause. “Good, we’re about the same size. Now cover your arm with lube to the elbow. Ease it in, like you saw me doing. Don’t force it. Let her body tell you what to do.”
“Oh God!” Trent groaned, as I feel the hand sliding in. “How far does it go?”
“You’ll feel a soft resistance; once you do, explore around a bit. Go in as deep as you can.”
“So what’s the problem?” Trent leans against my buttocks. His fingers are open inside, stroking my interior as he feels his way.
“Two men are coming tomorrow and they want to see anal on her. I figured it would be better to practice first. Lift her leg with your free hand. Pull the foot behind you and up.”
I feel Pete’s hands at the mouth of my cunt again, the two hands twisting themselves in. The skin is tight—painful to the point of tearing. “Easy,” Pete whispers to me. “Dani, relax!”
I try to sleep, to let the drug carry me back down. Three hands are inside me now, moving and twisting within.
“Three!” Trent exclaimed. “Wait, let me get my phone.” There is a pause as the larger boy makes his video. “Look at this! We’re at camp and he’s double fisting?”
Pete is pumping steadily now, the two hands entering my drugged body easily as I come and go from awareness. This lasts for some time, the double fisting below Trent’s deeply imbedded hand.
“Do you have a light?” Pete asked abruptly. “Oh good. Dani, we’re going to try this again.”
I nodded groggily as the arms inside me slowly retreat.
“Gonna gape?” Trent asked.
“Absolutely. Here, if I stretch the sides, can you get a few fingers in to press out the bottom? Just . . . that’s it. Straight down—firmly. Now hold.”
There was a click, followed by sounds of amazement. “That’s great! I’ve never seen that before.”
“That’s her cervix.” I hear a few more clicks, and then the fingers release. “I want copies of those,” Pete says.
“You got it. Ready for your hotdog? I put it in foil so it should still be warm.”
I am laying where the boys leave me, the two of them sitting on a bench as Pete eats. My stomach twists as I think of the ingredients.
“These are actually better for you than the old pork variety,” Trent is saying. “At least with girl meat there’s nothing disgusted added. Besides, pigs were smart. It was pretty terrible that we killed them for food.”
“Nope, just girl.” Pete makes a face as he stares at his food. “This makes us cannibals, you know?”
Trent shrugs his broad shoulders and grins at me. “If it was made out of men, then maybe that’d be true. But what’s wrong with cannibalism? Pretty sure there’s a verse in the bible that condones eating your children. Besides,” He gives me a wink. “Don’t forget what women are for. To be our help-meets. Get it? Help MEATS?”
Pete rolls his eyes. “You ok there, Dani? Want some food?”
“Sure she does.” Trent approaches my table. “Here, let’s clean you up first.”
I submit as the larger boy washes between my legs with the now soiled cloth. “There.” He helps me sit up, and I shakily climb off the table. “Hungry?”
I glance dubiously at the bag on the bench and nod.
“Good, because I brought something from the kitchen for you. They were very clear on the matter that this is for you.” He lifts out a cardboard box and hands it to me. Opening it, I find a large serving of wild rice, broccoli and buttered pinto beans. I stare at the yellow grease congealing beneath the veggies, visualizing the girls hanging from slings in the dairy.
“Thank you,” I say, and accept the wooden spoon he hands over.
“Besides,” Trent continues to Pete. “We were all going to die from overpopulation. This way only half of us live beyond twenty-two. And the other half . . .” He pats my arm. “We have all the food we need for a very long time. You know they had us eating cockroaches before the pandemic. Alternative foods—it’s not like it’s a new concept.”
The rice and beans are good, despite the fact they are now at room temperature. I clean out the box, and even eat the biscuit Peter hands to me. I hesitate at the milk carton and straw Pete passes to me next, eyeing the image of a cow on the front. It is whole milk, and I know very well that it does not come from cows.
“Go on,” laughs Pete. “You’ve had it before. What’s the difference?”
I take a sip and savor the sweetness on my tongue and the rich creamy texture.
“This is actually better for us by far,” Trent is saying. “Cow’s milk was meant for baby cows, not humans. This is one hundred percent for us!”
Drinking deeply, I empty the carton as both boys watch.
“Like it?” Trent inquires.
“Um, yes, actually.” I am staring at the carton. Ingredients: Pasteurized Girl Milk. Girl, I think to myself. Because none of us get to be women anymore.
***
I follow Pete to my barn just as the lights are about to go off. “Get in bed,” the head girl commands with a glower at Pete.
Pete turns me where I stand. “Keep both dildos in,” he says in a firm voice. “The one in the back comes out only if you have to go, understand? You have a very big day tomorrow. Get some rest.”
I squirm uncomfortably and nod. Climbing into my bunk I finally find a comfortable position on my left side. The lights go out, leaving me sore and alone in the darkness. The dildo in my vagina is twice as large as the first, and it almost feels like the two chunks of latex are touching each other. With the one in my rectum, I feel constantly like I have to go. It is only when my stomach cramps that I run to the toilet.
“Where were you at dinner?” Helen’s voice floats up from below as I return to my bunk.
“Getting stuffed,” I snap, and screw my eyes shut.
***
When morning comes I find I can’t eat, and must choke my oatmeal down under the head girl’s stern eyes. The milk for our oatmeal is from hemp hearts, I realize, recognizing its frothy texture and nutty taste. I leave for the gym after breakfast, but find Pete stepping in my path cutting me off.
“No, he says sternly. “Today is about making you ready for those men from the plant tonight. And I am betting there will be more than just the two. Come on.”
I trot naked at his heels, bypassing the tank and the gym and going at once into the grooming barn. He gestures me to the table and onto my stomach. I comply, and tense as he removes both my dildos. “Very good,” he says approvingly. “We’re not going to fist right now, because I know you’re very sore. But a few things.”
He inserts a large needleless syringe into my vagina and I feel a coolness flooding my body. “This will help you feel better,” he tells me. “It will keep you numb for the next fifteen hours. Trust me, you will not be hurting tonight.”
I heave a sigh of relief as he repeats the process with my anus, inserting the fluid deep into my rectum. I am smiling as I lay there, oblivious to the stretches Pete is putting me through. He starts with several bottles, each progressively larger than the first, though for the life of me I can’t exactly say which orifice each bottle is for.
We work for about an hour, with me lying still and Pete standing beside me, both of us waiting for my body to adjust.
“You’ll do just fine tonight,” he tells me. “These men just want something different, that’s all. They get tired of only seeing the dark side of our new society. They want to enjoy some of the benefits. I can understand that.”
“Somebody has to do what they do,” I hear myself mutter.
He looks at me sharply. “That’s exactly right, Dani. These men do the dirty work to keep the rest of us from going extinct, including you girls. Men cannot survive without these resources you provide us. It’s a hard fact, and one we must live with.”
“Do you think . . .” I hesitate. “Your God is punishing you for letting women be equals?”
Pete taps his fingers on my head. “Could be,” he muses. “I never thought of that, but maybe so. If we had used you from the start the way God intended . . .” his voice trailed off. “Could be . . .”
He moves in behind me and slides out the bottles. I am shaky as I stand, my entire pelvis numbed from my belly button down.
“Ready for a swim?” he asks, eyeing me.
“I think so,” I tell him. I am eager to get to the tank—to swim off my anxiety and fear. The expressions on the faces of those men last night—like they were inspecting raw meat.
***
My stomach gurgles loudly in the grooming room as we wait. I sit on the table, my legs swinging back and forth over the side. The table with the light has been brought from the clubhouse, complete with its “hi-lo” stirrups and bright adjustable lamp. Trent stands to the side with his arms crossed. Pete has asked him to assist, and the larger boy agreed.
“You’re still a bit numbed now, but you’ll be hurting tomorrow,” Pete tells me quietly. “Please go along, and trust me. These are dangerous men. If they want to kill you for their pleasure, they can. They can even ask me to do it, and I’d have no choice. You are nothing but meat to them. That’s what they see all day long—that’s how they have to be to survive their jobs. If they see you as human . . .” He fidgets uncomfortably, running his hand through his hair. “Just know . . . whatever I do tonight—I’m trying to save your life."
“And act like you enjoy it!” Trent put in.
“But I do,” I say, gazing dazedly at his face.
The men from the plant are arriving in their cars. I can’t see them because the parking lot is to the back of the building. But I can hear the gravel crunch under the wheels, and then the hurried footsteps. Three men enter and jerk to a stop, surprised to find us waiting. The man I know as Jake motions his friends to gather the chairs stacked high in a dusty corner, placing them in a semicircle behind the table’s bright light.
“Are any more coming?” Pete asks. His hands are folded across his chest. Stupidly, I nod, the double dose of pills in my system are kicking in.
Jake smirks as he cracks a beer. “Two more. Larry, the fellow you met last night, is one.”
As the tall man speaks, the new arrivals appear in the doorway. Both are wearing work clothes from the plant, their white bloodstained shirts untucked. I am staring at the floor as the men join their friends.
Trent catches my shoulders. He pulls me back, settling my head on a pillow. Pete raises my thighs, lifting my buttocks off the table as Trent stuffs pillows beneath my hips. My feet are placed in the stirrups and tied, then with mechanical clicks my legs are spread wide, a clamp on each side immobilizing my knees. A rubber device the length and width of a ruler is placed vertically between my labia folds. Pete bends it to the shape of my pelvis, and then turns a knob at its base. The device separates down the middle, and as the two halves widen, the folds of my girlhood are stretched apart and flattened, held in place against my body and out of the way.
I close my eyes as the mouth of my cunt is revealed for all to see. Though I am still
partially numb from my navel down, still I can feel the anticipating pulse of my tissue under the light. The men lean forward, and one of them points. “My God, she’s wet!”
Pete smiles and steps in close. “Dani’s always ready,” he says. “Easy to open and obedient.” He tosses a pillow on the floor and kneels down. Sliding in a few fingers, he stirs my juices slowly as wet sounds fill my ears. He widens his circles, his fingers gliding over the spade shaped contours of my vagina to coat my girlhood, drawing the moisture down to my anus and back up. “Best lube on the planet,” he tells his observers. Slowly then, he inserts his whole hand, twisting slightly as he pushes in.
“Would you look at that,” a man exclaims. “No resistance whatsoever!”
“I told you she’s easy.” Pete smiles, fisting gently in and out, his action steady and smooth. He adjusts the light so the men can see, fisting casually, languidly, his free hand catching my fluid welling to the surface and spreading it around his wrist. The wet kissing sounds of my tissue yielding to his strokes is pleasant and relaxing to hear. I turn my head, smiling as he works. I feel disembodied, as if I’m levitating from the table as I stare blankly up. Pete pauses to lube both his hands, and I draw a deep breath, exhaling as I feel him twisting two-handed into my exposed and vulnerable cunt.
He slides in with a firm push, the mouth of my pussy hugging his wrists. His body rocks forward and back slowly as he pumps me deep. I moan as I feel his hands separating within me. In this position he draws his hands up, pressing my pussy apart as he halfway exits, then holding his hands static, pushes back in. He turns his hands, his knuckles rubbing my cervix as once more he unlocks his fingers and pulls. “Do you see what I’m doing?” Pete asks his rapt audience. “By loosening up my hands or even pushing in opposite directions, I can expand her as I work.”
I take deep breaths as Pete sinks widely back down. With every stroke he separates more, pushing hard against my interior. His hands break the surface and holds me stretched, his half-immersed fingers rotating slowly. “And now I can do this,” he says.”
Embracing his fist with his other hand, he plunges in hard and snaps out. I am grunting along with his strokes, my thighs trembling above my immobilized knees. Pete is turning his hands as he thrusts, twisting more of my juices to the surface. I watch the clock, feeling dizzy as the pounding draws out, the sound of flesh slapping flesh as he connects and sinks down. Ten minutes, and then twenty, unendingly he thrusts. I feel cool air inside my cunt, my pussy staying open as he exits—too relaxed and stretched to spring back. The fisting continues as the men look on, with some of them leaping forward—eager for a glimpse as Pete stops and gapes me, my vagina yawning for the men to see. He fists me again with even more vigor, the men gathering at his back.
“Won’t this destroy her?” one asks as Pete works.
Pete laughs. “Naw, girls are made for this. Why do you think she was wet before I started? She knew it was coming and her body was preparing itself. She hungers for this. It’s a well-known fact; the female body yearns to be opened wide. To be prepared for motherhood.”
The man looked down at Pete. “You sure know a lot of things.”
“He reads,” says Trent with a chuckle. “As in all the time! Mr. Bookworm here.”
“I also talk to my girl.” Pete nods at me. “Ask her yourself. Dani, do you enjoy being fisted?”
The men wheel toward me, the ones still seated tilting to see my face. I moan and lick my lips, trying to think beyond the pounding.
“She’s still too drugged,” Trent says. “I don’t think—”
Pete cuts him off. “Dani,” he repeats loudly over my grunts. “Do you want these hands inside you?”
I fight to focus on his face. “I . . . “
“Yes?” Pete urges.
“Yes!” I gasp. “Yes, I want . . . yes, please!”
“There you have it.” Pete parts his hands again as he works, the airy noises from my cunt filling the little room. Again he gapes me, holding me open for the men to see.
“Can you try fisting one handed while your friend does that?” The man who was Jake’s partner askes. “So we can see your hand inside?”
Pete brightens at this idea and nods to Trent. The larger boy reaches past Pete with both hands, his fingers gripping the bony top of my vagina for leverage while he stretches my lower wall down. Pete adds fingers to press back one side as his fist passes into my gaping cunt. Slowly he fists, his hand and wrist more visible now as it penetrates my body.
“Okay, now do behind,” Jake says, licking his lips. “I assume you prepared her for that ahead of time, too?”
“You men work hard; we wanted to give you a good show,” Trent replies. He is grinning as he hurries to flip me onto my side. My leg is lifted, held aloft by the rings above the bed. I am scooted down until the lower half of my buttocks extends over the table. My right foot drifts limply to the floor before Trent scoops it up, pushing my knee forward against my chest and securing it with straps to my body.
Trent smears lube on his arms while Pete adjusts the light. “Do you want me to start her for you?” he asks, and Trent shakes his head.
“No, I got this. It’s pretty easy once you get in.”
Pete moves up beside me, catching my closest breast and kneading it hard. I feel Trent probing my anus with his fingers, slipping in fingers one by one. Slowly the hand works itself in, the fingers clamped into a cone shape. I feel the soft give as Trent slides into my rectum all at once, the tissue yielding as he ventures inward. “Nice,” Pete croons gently. “You’re a very good girl, Dani. Open wider for him, will you?”
I sigh as the hand sinks into the deepest well at the core of my being. Trent leans his body forward, his knuckles rotating back and forth. Ever so slowly he withdraws his arm, then with a firm solid pressure, thrusts in to his elbow.
I lay very still. I had never experienced just the anal by itself. The strokes are long and easy within my half-numbed body, the hand rising shallow toward my anus, then plunging back deep. The gas escaping from around his wrist makes my face burn hot. “Remember what matters,” Pete whispers in my ear. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
He moves to crouch beside Trent. The larger boy is standing, using the weight of his body to pump in and out. Pete stirs the fluids of my cunt with his fingers, playing at the edges of my opening, using the lamp to explore it out. He expands it wide with two fingers from each hand, then inserts three as far as he can, reaching in and drawing out. He moistens the pink interior of my opened folds with my juices, then dives back in with four fingers now, turning them slowly within my opening. He stretches the lower wall of my pussy, then plunges deep with his free hand, fisting hard and fast alongside Trent. I am groaning now despite myself, the two hands filling my body. Then Pete clamps his free hand around his wrist, sliding in to my half-numbed cunt with just the slightest pause of resistance. The men are around us now, some taking pictures with their phones. The three hands plunge and retreat, dive in and pull out, my body rocking in time with the rhythm of their thrus
big bear
Male · United Kingdom. This is the member profile for big bear
big bear 669
Male · United States of America. This is the member profile for big bear 669
Before A Midsummer Night's Dream
Before A Midsummer Night's Dream · Interracial Love · Memories are important to me, specifically the good ones. I would concur that it's the small things one does during their lifetime that are going to be the most impactful on them when they go back to cherish. In my 25 years, I've tried to make as many of these little moments for myself as possible. I hope to continue doing so.
As I circumvent the cobwebs and flip the grimy pages in the convolution that is my brain, I still recall a balmy Friday afternoon during the summer of '14. There have been many days around here where the climate could make it feel exactly like so. Though reiterating: The minutiae of details which were taking place during that day are what I think a person can treasure the most. Even if specifics become lost, they may blend and be a larger whole after a time. Speaking for myself, I now see the sun shining on that day more than I'd cared to notice then.
I turned 19 that May. My self-confidence had been improving along with what amount was already there from the time I'd graduated from high school. I did so with the Class of 2012. I was on a tight leash that was loosened by my parents for the remaining year of my minority. They removed the leash when I became an adult by law the year later. I had finally escaped the austerity enforced in my orthodox household during my upbringing, and in lieu, set out with the intention to experience and to make myself happy. To think less of what was expected of me by those who play God, and more of my perennial passions. I'd recognized my flaws. I've never stated to anyone that I'm a good person. Never. But I felt that helping other people would be helping me; what else can we do?
I pondered on a medical field or social work — and a steady source of income, of course. I knew this was going to be a tremendous undertaking, but I was adamant when I set my mind to something important to me. I'd been told so by teachers — people of authority outside the homestead. A university accepted me. It required a distanced move several hours away. I would have to do this on my own without support or enthusiasm from my family. Yes, I was frightened; I don't blame myself. But this was what it took — to overcome my dread and doubt while bearing in mind my goals, which I purposely left petty and superfluous so they would be feasible to complete and not damage me from unexpected failure to fulfill them.
By my pragmatic, if not sardonic philosophies by default, expecting good things to happen in this world's rocky landscape leads to disappointment in many cases. Maybe then I wasn't aware of this factuality, but I am now. I recognize. I stop to think about those without. The body I am in, the innocent lusts I have, the blessings bestowed to me by God are all good things, so long as I humble myself and take heed to what I know to be right. They will not be denied by me, rejected by me, or taken for granted, as often as I can remind myself.
As contradictory and ironic as the following account will seem, I'm only human, none of which is perfect, all of which is pardoned.
II
I always knew what the passions and lusts aforementioned were. They seemed like untapped and beautiful things that escaped my domineering nature of cynicism and restraint. Even early on in my childhood, I was inquisitive; whatever was there had always been a part of me. I could not, or rather, was forbidden to act on any carnal urges — rightfully so, since I was only a child. Yet, with all the boundaries and restrictions and doctrines of what is “Right” and what is “Wrong” firmly implanted, there was exposure to so many sexual contexts and innuendos, nonetheless — not only that but other discretions that a young girl should not be allowed to eavesdrop on. I was being informed well before my sanctioned time by three older siblings and made fully aware of how things plied.
My brothers had no capacity for complex emotions such as concepts of morality or guilt — a typical encounter for me then. They did not care. They brought their rambunctious peers for visits while Dad would work around the clock, Mom would drink her gin and tonic, and I'd impinge on their misdeeds. Why did my dad ignore me? It bothered me more than he knew and would affect me down the trail. Why did my mom harbor such an indefensible hatred towards me? Was there something in me that she saw in herself, or was it merely me, having been the “accidental” fourth? The two live-in grandparents, who were Dad's parents, just made everything that much more awkward and unbearable. Why go into it? No more time should be wasted dwelling on any of them; the less, the better. I could not breathe in that household.
In any case, it wasn't much different around my contemporaries. Only, I'd be the one to refute classmates' naive banter and false notions by having known it all in advance when sat down in sex-ed, courtesy of three dick-headed and repugnant siblings with age and primacy on their side. It was a stark contrast when compared to the ridicule I would languish in the home, having not known jack shit when gunned down by a belligerent firstborn, ten years older than me. Sex is so ubiquitous that it's just impossible to avoid anymore — if it ever was possible to avoid it — especially with my level of drive. In one way or another, everything will pertain to it unless a prude, which I am certainly not. I was innately fascinated by it. I asked harmless questions. Why did my bros have to be so mean about it?
I'm not having any self-pity here; this is only an explanation of what life was like during my childhood and growing up in my family — a veritable psychiatric field day. My clusterfuck of a house demanded a 1955 mindset, regardless of whatever was going on behind closed doors. Mommy and Daddy never sat me down for a tête-à-tête about birds and the bees, or anything else for that matter. My parents and grandparents would force their lectures on love but never practiced it themselves or set an example. And I mean the sum of what love's supposed to be like, what I understood it should be like, not just the sexual elements that intrigued me the most.
This hypocrisy angered me. What the fuck was this? Love — it is all I wanted to feel but was unable to receive it by any means there.
After all that the abstinence had cost me through puberty, I planned to change things for myself by finding love elsewhere, and I would demand nothing in return for it.
III
Work was almost out on that sunny day sometime in June. I'd been interning in several hospitals and facilities while I studied for a planned degree in pharmacology. As the end of my stint approached, I thought more of my plans for that nightfall and how to pull them off to perfection. These non-sequitur thoughts were unsuited for any run-of-the-mill and holier-than-thou work ethic. They flew around with the rest of the hustle and bustle incessantly going on up there that I would do anything, short of opting out, to mitigate. They made me fidget in my seat, causing my muscles to tense and my breathing to fluctuate.
To only exacerbate my uneasiness and anxiety, an inbound text message had arrived from my newfound friend, Naomi. I don't recall precise words, but I'd guess something along the fringes of, “Are you going out for scalps later?” Over the years I've known her, she'd often refer to my newly acquired boons as “scalps,” or in another form of acrimony which — coming from how endearing and friendly she was — would still put it lighter than I was in my behavior towards most of those poor kids. I was coming out from an inferno of juvenile years that were indeed affecting both me and my surroundings. I regret it now; I do. I've hurt; yes, I have.
Naomi's perspectives and definitions of propriety were different from mine — ones I frequently envied. I'd met her for the first time in January of that year. She'd been a neighbor when I decided to get out of the dorm and rent something instead. I was still 18 then, and she had six years on me at her 24. From my first impression, she did not seem to carry any hint of whatever constitutes a Child left in her at all. She was self-governing, incorrigible in her mold, and who she distinguished herself as — no one would be changing her mind. I admired those aspects and sensed genuine wisdom in this chick.
Naomi quickly became a close friend to me, as I'd moved hours from my home and knew no one in this sprawling and daunting megalopolis beforehand. She saw my electrons and only confuted them with her more overbearing protons. I learned that it was only futility to be anything other than happy and amiable around her. I grew up with antonyms of joy. She had an overwhelming ardor I'd not spent ample time with before.
I eventually opened up to her about my past. My kitsch is considered old-school, old-fashioned, and I have no problem with that. In an age of social media, I may have — or I may not have — a different definition than bulks do of what a friend is and who gets placed on the 'Friends List.' It's a close circle, and in effect, a small list that is pretty damn important to me. I consider Naomi to be one of the people on said list. I mention her extensively because she became a pillar that supported my happiness. Her impeccable judgment regarding getting the most out of what this life had to reward me was never questioned or depreciated. I was indebted to her.
By that point, I had possessed what the forms of those rewards were continually able to come in, allusive pun intended. I was already being made aware of the effortless perfection in which my soul resided. I made efforts anyhow — if only to maintain my temple. I went out of the way to run miles every day during the week. I was only continuing what I'd been doing as a form of escapism since junior high. I had myself conditioned to the point of feeling like I could keep on figuratively running away from my troubles in perpetuity. I loved it like an addiction — “Runner's High,” they call it. It made me feel sexy.
People — suspected to be in the same frame of mind as me, e.g., 'on the hunt' — would look at me as I went past them in my own made world, where the cosmos centered around the area where the middle of my foot would connect to the asphalt. I caught many gotten glances from the corners of my eyes, which I consider dark and intimidating. If I did lock my formidable gaze with the odd pedestrian on my cool-down period, nine out of ten times, I'd cause them to glance off in another direction as swiftly as they could. Any place that didn't involve the prerequisite set of balls it takes to meet my peep, continue inwards, and break my barriers. However, the tenth time consisted of those sure enough of themselves to take a plunge and brave a journey into my complex irides intent to burn away any veil in theirs. Destinations varied.
I would arrive home to my leased residence in a cold sweat and dampened clothes to undress for a hot shower in a ritualistic manner. The release from the confinements of my sports bra only made me feel like I could breathe the more so. As I poured out of the nylon stitching, my breasts would instantaneously settle back into their rightful perky place and be permitted to jut from my chest in freedom, just as God had intended for Eve's to do so before the Fall.
I shimmied myself out of what thin fabrics remained on the lower portion of my framework — hips and all that is divine between my legs were revealed to me, reminding me of my luck again. I knew what I saw in the mirror's reflection; I was not blind to a familiar sight. I eyed my curves and contours and the landing strip I regularly like to rock on my mound. It was abundantly clear what I was beholding: I was the quintessential woman who could have anything she fancied. It was entirely my choice to ditch the conviction and despair I suffered through adolescence and enjoy being in my niche instead. What a hedonist I was.
I would undo the knotted bun resting atop my head to let my blackened hair fall past my shoulders and onto my skin. I could detect a familiar and intoxicating fragrance in each of the strands. The moisture and scent from having pounded on the pavement not long before would also be in the air. It would mix with lingering aromas from whatever perfumes I'd sprayed in it from that morn. They joined with the traces of shampoo and conditioner from the previous night. The amalgamation became a tang of raw Sexual Energy that cannot be withstood or further described without the risk of raving. A lot can happen in a bathroom before a shower.
In times like 'in front of the mirror after a run,' I feel an aura surrounding me. I see myself in my purest and most vulnerable form as my damp and weighted tresses brushed against tender bits. Naked and battling with an abiding lust, found in spiritual sectors that cannot be labeled by anatomy, I would do things to myself in front of these mirrors — I'd been doing so in secrecy for quite a while. I would explore places, touch parts, and imagine my empty spaces made occupied by things I was, in my infancy, only able to catch glimpses and then lose sight of, left to have them in my dreams. Later on, I would see them but never be allowed to feel them in my presence. These dreams became increasingly vivid.
But by that summer in '14, the need for imagination and improvisation was no longer necessary. I had felt the sensation of a cock pressing into my flesh and was able to say so. Even if a phantom in my time of solitude, I oft feel nerves on zones inside me where I want the head to bear the brunt of its punishment most of all and induce the climacteric point of no return. In these moments, I cast aside whatever piety and temperance I have over myself and realize how bad I need fucked.
My cock craving would arrive in times as such — the times that were so commonly encountered during weeks consisting of long days with nil opportunity to sate my needs and cause the build-up and frustration to become that much more acute. These times called for me to do something about it. They bring me back to the Friday reminisced on, the reply to my friend's question, and whatever lucky guy — the emblematic scalp — would get his chance to serve as this completion for me as the five days of absence waned, and the weekend drew nearer.
IV
I replied to Naomi; asked her if she knew where I could go to make this happen. She had lived in the City all her life and was a social animal. It amazed me how she could throw names and addresses at me at the drop of a hat — any place where something was going down. It wasn't long after that when she told me, “Go here,” gave me the deets and coordinates, and wished me well. I planned to brave it alone that night since I was working some distance from home.
More and more routinely, I found myself still out, waking up in strangers' beds and being gone even well into the next day. It was becoming a custom for me to be prepared for this to happen. I would keep clothes in my car, influenced by whatever vogue was going on; lots of clothes. I kept stocked on survival essentials, too, i.e., food and drink — mainly trail mixes and bottled water. I had plenty of cosmetic and hygienic supplies to maintain my beauty and preserve my health. I could do work while sitting in the car if obligated. If I needed sleep, it was trivial enough to recline the seat. I was able to be out and about more by these means. Staying or fleeing a scene was all contingent upon how it was and the vibes I was feeling.
After I got out of the job, I went to find the park I'd been using to run laps during that week. Though, today, I would run only to a point where I'd not work up so much fatigue and make a sweaty mess of myself — which, with my stamina, took some work. From what I remember, it was supposed to be an open house slated for six o'clock or so — a later part of the evening. It would be no more than a fifteen-minute drive from where I was. I had plenty of time. Also, I liked to show up late at these things. Exercising was not only delightful to me but my way of cleansing the deed through its health benefits. It was my absolution from whatever substances and sordid activities I would undoubtedly be indulging in.
During those years, I spent time playing dress-up in my vehicle. I'd strip out of my work attire and into sports gear for my runs. Then I would return and swap back into something suitable for whatever I'd be doing after that. In many instances, I would be within plain view as I was changing in the car. In retrospect, I'm surprised I don't need neck surgery as a result of how much surveying I was doing while I switched outfits to see if I was being ogled at by some perv. I told myself nobody saw me making a nouveau riche bimbo out of herself, but maybe I was, in my subconscious, wishing someone had. Perhaps someone did see me once or twice, but that's another story.
My black Honda Accord was like a home for me, pillow in the back and all. If push came to shove, I kenned I could always go to my car and nap there in safety. Unless close, there was no reason for me to drive back home. I could be spending that time doing something productive or heading towards something that made me feel good instead. I was being taught different things now; to love myself and cease in the denial of loving it. I wasted none of what coupled youth and adulthood instigated. At 19, I was milking these advocations for everything they were worth, although I never wavered from my own beliefs; my Faith. Love is at the center of it; the rest is redundant to me.
With that in mind, I arrived back after I had concluded my jog. I always felt carefree and sensuous after the fact, being glad it was done and feeling much healthier. I threw something on and freshened up. I wanted myself as flaunted and sultry as possible, sparing no expense or giving any pretense as to what I would be looking for at this shindig. I made sure not to hold back on Chanel and L'Oréal and make my hair as liberated, salacious, and untamed as possible. I swallowed whatever lurking fret there was and brushed aside whatever bullshit second thoughts I had, then ignited the engine to hear the radio blasting A Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay. I remember it.
V
It was dusk when I got there. I parked a reasonable distance away on the curb and walked to the address Naomi gave me. A driveway went up for a bit that led me to a two-story home that looked to be an upper-middle-class sort of place. There was activity going on. Lots of people were there; I was not counting. The age group appeared anywhere between their teens like me, into their early thirties. I could walk right in and assimilate myself without anyone noticing, and I was all right with that. I figured most of it was going on in the backyard. There was a lot of landscaping around the front and a fence, so I had to go through the front door to get there, which was wide open.
It seemed warm and stuffy when I stepped in, especially for the intermingling Latin blood running hot in my veins. The lights were down; I recall candlelight. I remember the usual smells of food and spirits. The familiar odor of marijuana was also in the air. I was 19 and very much underage, doing something I knew was not allowed, as if I was going to let that deter me. A blond-haired mistress I did not know walked up and hugged me. She said some indistinct things I don't remember now. She might have been the owner of the house since she was a bit older. Whoever she was, she looked to be well on her way, like she had taken something. I wasn't sure what was going on yet. I could not hear her, either. It was loud in there, enough to make a girl go deaf with the proper soundtrack going.
People were yelling over each other as the typical EDM and pop music blasted on a stereo system. Music is at the epicenter of a good party. There have to be good tunes to have a good party, in my opinion. Of course, I did not expect to hear anything underground, abrasive, or hardcore, like a gabber at their rave or mosher in their pit. But the night was young, and so was I. At 19, a bit of what I knew was passed vicariously through the older folks I was becoming acquainted with — my friend Naomi was one of them. And her being 24, a sophisticated and diverse individual, they only got older from there. She was regularly around people in their thirties and upwards, back to when parties were happening in the '00s, '90s, and '80s.
I hear they were tumultuous times, and Naomi had been exposing me to those capable of saying they were there. The only way to be there was to be there. They carried no smartphones back then, nor did they need them. Technology did not matter since it did not exist. It was the memory and the moment, nothing more. Whatever knowledge was in my academics and studies did nada for me while I was subject to those circumstances. What many of them attained was my definition of wisdom — having lived on Earth longer than me. Which is to say, they had witnessed more of what reality is and felt more pain than I had. The years they'd spent listening and partaking, as I was doing, had paid off.
I could not compete with any of it, but she let me in on their private jokes, notwithstanding, and involved me in their antics as often as we were around each other. When I went to events with Nomi and whoever else she had along, there was no question about how confident I was. It meant a great deal to have her as a friend and to be able to call her one. As all this was happening, she confided with me just as much as I was confiding in her. With all that emotion and proximity, not to mention her talents in temptation, she began touching me and welcomed me to touch her, too. Lots of frivolous hugs were going on, but then they became more compelling.
I did not know if she was manipulating me into something — if she was, it was working. She had the advantage of seniority and being the Cooler Cucumber than me, not to mention having a charisma that I lacked. She deadlocked me in my eyes all the time — a powerful thing to me. It reached the point when she trapped me on my lonesome one day, got me to open my mouth, and let her stick her tongue in it. It ended with her leading me by the hand and both of us on her bed, fucking one another. She pulled this off even amid my sobriety and having had considered myself a very straight female before then. Wow. Kudos to me, more power to her.
Naomi became the first woman I was intimate with — she opened that gateway for me, broke that boundary and taboo. She was breaking lots of those not long after that. Things I never imagined myself doing began taking place, and I was doing them; things were taking me, more ambiguous puns intended. As time went on, she felt more like companionship and someone I could place my trust in and lower my guard around. It has remained as such to this day.
VI
Since I was alone at this particular event on that night, I wanted to be cautious. I was being analyzed head to toe by strangers left and right. I felt their eyes already peeling my duds off. During a warm night in June, there was not much clothing on me, to begin with — all my prominent features were out on display for them. I had done this on my own before and was discovering what worked for me, albeit tentatively.
I needed to find a spot to settle in to get my bearings, with a drink in my hand that would put me on the path to enough of a buzz of courage to make a move on someone — or allow them to make theirs. A year farther down the highway, I might have done something insane and not thought twice, but I did not want to overdo anything here this evening. I was on my own, which is already taking a risk — too serious of one for my better part of judgment then.
I found an unoccupied piece of patio furniture outside in the backyard. It was more spacious and less constricting than being inside the sweltering domicile. More air and fewer clusters of crowds brushing into my Safe Zone allowed me to relax and contemplate. People were in their groups and cliques and saturated in their confidences for reasons obvious to anyone. In that sort of environment, being ingratiated within a group makes a state of mind different from when unescorted. I felt withdrawn and homesick at this function that night, to be sure, drinking alcohol in my teens and prone to rash decisions. I had to remain vigilant and keep my wits about me.
This garden party had been carrying on for a while now. I saw people dancing, fornicating, and rambling incoherently across the yard from what looked to be drug use, alleged to be ecstasy. I saw a surreptitious group of males, the type known all too well to me by then. I assumed they were selling — my assumption proved correct after time spent sitting with my drink and policing them.
Club drugs were still out of my depth then, and taking something like MDMA — or taking any substance for that matter — without someone to trust nearby leads to bad decision-making and potential catastrophe. It's a wonderful way to wreck your entire life in an instant — and be left with the sickening hindsight of, “Why did I have to do it? I could have Just Said No. Everything would be fine right now if I had.” Thoughts such as those make me think of what is taken for granted, not to mention my health. With what I was doing for a better amount of six years, it is a miracle I am even alive and not in a coma or dead. Which is worse, the former or the latter?
There would be no fucking way I would be taking anything on that night, let alone pay anything out of pocket for whatever insalubrious garbage it may have been cut with. I was searching around for someone who appeared to be in a comparable situation as me: they were at this festivity to get laid and bust their nut — no cons, illegalities, or ODs attached. Nothing wrong with a little lovin'.
I had been there for at least half an hour now. I recall having a Dark and Stormy — a drink I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years. I doubt the rum was anything from a top shelf, but volume is volume. Speaking of volume, since the time I'd strolled through the home, the music was getting better. Maybe they'd replaced whoever was doing the DJing with someone who knew their shit — a connoisseur who viewed music as an art form, as I did. It sounded to be deep-cuts of minimal techno, vocal trance, et cetera. Echoes of numerous, unknown artists and tracks that someone could quite easily only ever lay ears on once during a lifespan and then never hear again.
Hearing the unheard has always been a big deal to me. I thrive for a moment where I will hear something to fall in love with — or take offense from. As cruel as it seems to say to anybody sober, genres such as techno and trance will only sound better while rolling on uppers or while bombed out of their gourds on herb — or, in my case, that eve, floating on alcohol.
But please permit me to be a hoity-toity, high and mighty, la-di-da ball-buster by repudiating what was literally just said: Don't do drugs; don't even drink hard liquor. It's the smart thing to do.
VII
I remember attempting a conversation with a couple of passersby if you could call it a conversation. Most of what they were mumbling to me about was idiosyncratic gibberish. Obviously Zonked. I told them, delivered as a fait accompli, what I was here for — my thirst needed to be quenched by some sort of personified punch after the stressors of my existence throughout that week, hither. While I continued to sip my beverage and soak in the sounds, I looked for a suitable other to aid me in accomplishing this feat. It would be an extreme responsibility for them.
Most of the guys I saw there thought themselves larger than life, and justly so, I guess. They had girls with them already. It's possible actual relationships were going on, e.g., boyfriend and girlfriend. Most looked thunderous and hyper. Always something to say. They frolicked in their esteem.
Were I to walk up to these characters or them to me, dictation would be on their terms. They could easily cast me aside and find someone looking nearly as good as I was that night, and I was looking severely good at 19; it would be untenable to deny or just plain mean to tell a Missy otherwise. I was getting tons of inspections, lonely and abandoned as I was. Time was running out for me to choose, and the alcohol was in effect.
VIII
I saw one of the smaller assemblages that looked to be more phlegmatic than the norm. They casually conversed and gave no evidence of having any terminal impairment. From a stone's throw away from my location, they looked like respectable working-class — blasé and hospitable; no flamboyance. One guy was the odd man out. He had no Lady on his arm, as the other two Gentlemen did. He looked to be a real Somebody.
I would say he was in his upper twenties. His physique looked active, rugged, and undemanding — a type I loved to tempt. His hair was dark, dense, and wavy — enough of it to run my fingers through to feel good about myself. He had maintained facial hair, but not too maintained. He seemed rough around the edges, with nothing tapered or outstanding. His clothing — a distinctly recollected dark and drab T-shirt and tarnished denim jeans — fit loosely enough for comfort and snug enough to show off his sculpt — one that looked lean with a fatally underestimated power behind it. Hell yeah, I'd tap that!
I was eyeing him up and down, gorgeous as I was, and he saw me doing it. He was participating in a chat with his buddies and their dates while he was more and more glancing over at me, sitting on my own, trying to pretend like he was not affected. I wondered if they were talking about me — it looked like they were touching on something. From what I was observing, he seemed to have a reserved opinion of himself. His friends appeared that way, too. There was no complacency or delusion present.
I was stricken to carry myself with the same decorum in ordinary cases, but I was horny and infatuated with myself at the minute, not to mention Sloshed. I thought the man was looking at me and assuming right away that there would be no bet in hell of scoring a nasty summit of a number like me on that night. Too modest for his own good. Or was I wrong? Was I too conceited and haughty for my own good? I wondered what kind of beast of a Cock was skulking behind the excess seen in his weathered jeans like it was some predator waiting in ambush. Each seam and tear in those pants he bore so eloquently were more than likely earned by his merit at whatever tedious daily grind he had, rather than been pre-installed at purchase merely to resemble liveliness.
As I continued studying him, I felt my mouth salivate. My breath began to elevate. My muscles were contracting, and I was fidgeting in my chair like I'd been doing at work earlier. What charm lay bare and void betwixt my thighs was going from moist to damp, damp to wet, and throbbing with each heartbeat. Steamy thoughts were going on in my fucked up and dirty head. I queried how much I could get away with here — Niña Loca, arguing with the Voices. The hand that did not contain a plastic cup involuntarily traveled down to paw at the soft Hill found in my shorts. I oftentimes do this with the knuckles bearing inward — really, there is no control over it. Then I felt my face begin to tingle and my mouth abruptly dry. I took another swig of 40 as if that would alleviate the dryness in the long run.
My chest became tight, and my heart began to pulsate with even greater intensity — so much more that I felt it shocking my body from root to stem. My adrenaline was kicking in — something I still needed to get used to feeling. I wanted this dude to put his brawny hands all over me and force me to moan for him as he fucks me to climax. Oh, God, how I needed it. I wasn't going to wait around for it to happen. I got up and took concealed, stumbled strides athwart the grass and over to him.
IX
He grew taller as I neared — at least a head's higher than my 5'5''. Oh yeah, this fella was interested, so was I. Definitely a Smash. Something was trying to click here. His eyes lit up a bit, deep and complex as they were, like mine. Still, he did not turn them away from me to stare at his feet or act like he didn't know what was happening. I sensed he had assurance in himself, whether he cared to concede to it or not.
As I landed my sights on the more intricate of his features, it became clear why he did. He was indeed much older than I, more into his early thirties. This was not some boy as green as the ground I stood on; it was a full-fledged Man. With the age comes the experience, as I was going to find out about later on. A man's age advantage over me also stirs my more discreet and frailer of psychological quirks — the lack of a Father Figure. Where I was invisible to my dad, I had found an adjacent alternative, who did appreciate me and lavished me in sensuality, furthermore.
I'm a believer in Occam's razor — that the Quickest Avenue is probably going to be the right one to go down. Short and sweet; no meandering BS or trying out new techniques. I asked him if he was with someone. He took my meaning, shook his dear head in a neutral expression, and told me No. We shared the same policy, apparently — candid, concise, and straight to business; this is not like the movies. I asked if I could be with him. He said Yes — just like that. I went up to meet his chest, albeit hesitant from the slight jolted shock to my nervous system when I realized he was more seasoned than I had anticipated. But he extended a sinewy arm to give me signs I had nothing to fear from him.
An indefinable surge of warmth went over me. Feelings of Happiness and Acceptance flooded inside as I hugged my body closer.
I was on his left; I remember it. He put his arm around me. He was a rock-solid Bull. I wanted to put my arm around him, too. When I did, it felt like trying to hug a bronze statue out of Ancient Rome. I felt out of my body so often during these escapades. It was something surreal like a déjà vu or feeling like I'd reached the pinnacle of a precipice, one where reality only existed inside my mind and falling off the ledge would turn it into a black nihility, like before being born into a soul.
I wished to rest my head on him and shut my eyes, then open them to see if I'd wake up someplace else — I didn't want to wake up; I wanted to go nowhere else but 'Here' and 'Now.' He had a scent of cologne that merged with a nostalgic hint of tobacco that I grew up around in a family of smokers; casual, and chain. His conferees were, as I inferred: Around their late twenties and precisely the kinds of laid-back folks that I could correlate to and mellow out with. One might even label it esoteric — no conformity, only themselves.
There was an introduction. We exchanged our names — of which now I cannot recall. Mine was Melanie, and it is appalling that I cannot remember the name of my new boyfriend as I write in the present tense. His pals seemed tranquil and only spoke about as much as need be. They continued having a conversation about something that I draw blanks on now. I think it was work-related. I gathered they were co-workers.
What was running through my mind was who I had my arm around. My hand and its fingers lightly traced the finer details and digits of his spine. They went up to the lower parts of his neck to brush his hairline. I was touching him with greater zeal and affection at an alarming rate of attrition. He was considering it, and I could see it. Who knew I had it in me? I had to raise my head to meet his height. My eyes were looking up and to his. Even if he turned away for a moment to those he was already familiar with, as if to equivocate my presence, I did not falter — my sight remained on him. This technique was not just for him to enjoy but also was a means for me to read him — to try my damnedest to discern what kind of man this was. What kind of secrets did I need to know about, hmm? Eye contact. It's important to me.
I wanted to trust this stranger enough to give him Carte Blanche and let him have total Dominion over me and all that could be his. Capriciousness had nothing to do with the decision I had made — and despite my inebriation, while crossing over the lawn, I knew what I was doing here. It was the End Game in mind — for me to have my brains Fucked out in earnest and their gray matter suspended in Orgasmic Euphoria. Such has always been my Vice. The rest is impertinent; diversions or tactics to lead me to it.
When they met my soft skin, I recalled the grain of his hands calloused and stalwart, like a man's hands should feel. As I expected, this was an active human being with a firm grip on a very clingy gal who coveted to get a lot more of her parts gripped on before the roosters had a chance to crow at sun-up. What I did not expect was how much this buckaroo knew what he was doing. It leads me to believe that this is why I still retain the night, even over six blurry years later, where I would find myself in similar predicaments during every week's end.
X
I finished my Juice and nonchalantly tossed the obligatory Red Solo Cup elsewhere, scattering the condensed ice cubes and soggy rum-soaked lime wedge amongst the turf. A Party will be a Party, and this one was not mine. A proper Fucking Mess — “Fucking” in verb form — for the host/hostess to clean up after all's said and done is, in consolidated fact, a Given. I now had both of my lovely hands vacant and available to touch him, as my inborn omnipotence concerning these libidinous affairs deemed fit.
I edged myself from his side and into his front, though not all the way. Of course, this rose his attention; why would it not? No dialogue was going on between us, and I was quite all right with that. The Music played. The Multitudes in the yard carried on hooping and hollering like not a thing was transpiring between He and Me. My hands were running up and down along his sides and anywhere else stimulating they could conquer. I have been told countless times in so many ways about what it is like to feel my reception and bona fide sentiment via my touch.
I did not grab the Bulge I wanted so desperately to have in my clutches, quite yet. It's crucial not to overstep bounds, initially. I needed to wait for that moment, a critical one. I had a Good Vibe going on here; high hopes; this was most certainly a Catch. He “wasn't most guys,” and for once in a blue-fucking-moon in the Sky, this Truth was held to be self-evident. I wanted him to have it, this luscious body in its entirety. He did not have to prove a thing to a girl endeavoring to cultivate herself. I finally got him to focus on Me, Me, Me, and fuck all else — the narcissistic wench that I was.
In that instant, I banked on the Accolade to take place — the bit where this man took over for me and granted me something in return; quid pro quo. And he did.
First Base! He had been a downplayed professional, touching me in all the right places with all the right amounts of pressure applied. His friends were very polite, and I don't even remember when they shifted elsewhere to give us our privacy. The only thing I remember was how fast I was being pulled into his body from a forceful tug on my Butt and my lips meeting his. I felt my boobs flattened on his torso in their usual somatic fashion — always a treat. My eyes closed, and what was subtlety on both our parts quickly turned to passion. I had no choice in this anymore. I was being manhandled and forced to submission by this Tank, made to feel like a Woman.
My forearms went around his Hull and my fingers through his hair — any place I could nudge and turn on. All the while, he is doing the same things to me. Inside, I am growing aroused beyond words — driven to moan and whisper indiscretions and Freudian slips I would only utter from my authentic pleasure. My emotional state, psyche, and soul were being taken back to childhood — dismissal then, embrace now. They should be signals to this man — to any man — of how much I was getting into this. I was 'F4M/DTF/NSA,' unequivocally.
He had taken his Big Bat and hit the Baseball well into the outfield, if not a home run, so he rounded to Second Base without the obligation to halt on the first plate. The heat and waves from his approval and endorsement enveloped me. I was standing on tippy-toes and then felt a drag in the small of my back by a stern and assertive hand. I was as closely knit to his body as allowable with our clothes still on. My kisses grew more adventurous and liberal, of which happy campers have told me are as great as my touch. My tongue was doing its handiwork; he impressed me with his. He was pulling up my leg to rest against his midsection as if to lift me from the ground and spare me my encumbrance. I'll admit, it was tough being Me sometimes.
He had his other hand grabbing into my tight Ass in the interim — a lot of Ass to grab into. Courtesy of a South-American heritage, the Brazilian Butt Lift came with the Package. As he did this, it caused everything so tender and bewitching to the commonfolk to stretch apart and shoot waves of exhilaration through me, from the top of my pointy hat, to where I sit on a broomstick, to the tips of my toes. I like it when my backside is played with and violated by a stronger counterpart, 'tis true.
I emphasize: With all that is Corporeal, simultaneously existing with all that is Conceptual, the pleasure I feel from this is Incommunicable. I felt another brutish hand betwixt my pregnable legs and its fingers pressing into fertile valleys below the pubic bone. He knew precisely where my Clit was, even with my dungarees obstructing it. We — being me and Her — were assuredly in trouble. Giving this Paragon of Masculinity no sign of refusal and every incentive to take this to another level, I immediately placed my hand on the Bump of unmentionables in his slacks. I was, dying then and there to have it rammed inside me — through any choice of an entrance — to placate my yearning.
I felt how hard it was and only wondered of its potential size when I had it out to put my hands on it. It felt disconcertingly Huge. Too huge for captivity. I aimed to be the girl to release it for good.
XI
I do not know how long we were making out. What could have been minutes seemed like hours to me? Or is it the other way around? My guy and I were standing out in public, and this shit was getting Real. He was going under my skimpy little summertime top and touching my bare, prohibited flesh by that point. I wanted him to take it off. I didn't stand a possibility to surmount to this; he would just triumph in one way or another. He could put me over a desk, stick his Dick in my Ass and fuck the reading glasses off me, and there would not be a goddamned thing I could do to prevent it. I knew it. Despite all that Respect I had for myself, I was ready to accept being got and fucked back into my place on the Hierarchy — fucked out of the Feminist Mindset that liked to creep up on me. And him being a Hunk and having it all rock-hard in his pants because of me only validated my Role and gave me that much more esteem — I accorded him his hard-on.
He was digging me. On the Ortho-Novum, or whatever I was taking at the time, there was no cause for us to be concerned about unplanned cherubs should things come to that. We were ready for this to happen.
My areolae diminished, nipples coagulated. I felt numb from the cocktail in my system. What a lousy feeling sometimes. Contrary to what's said about alcohol warming the blood, the opposite is true — it reduces body temperature. I was getting cold. Finally, my boo gave me an interval to be able to tell him that I “really wanted to be alone with him” — more than likely in those selfsame words, or fewer — implying that I needed him to fuck me. He understood. This guy was exceptional, incredible. Most talk too much, but he was of few words. He explained to me, in brevity, that he lived only a five-minute stroll from the house party and asked me if I wanted to go there with him. I answered, “Yes," with as much sincerity and solemnity as I could muster from my drunken state. He put his arm around me, said some hazy farewells and valedictions to his associates, and lead me from the property.
XII
The eve had turned late, at least according to whatever Pecksniffian condescender declared that 'when the sun is down, then it should be deemed by us as such.' I didn't know the exact time, but as long as I'd lived with Time, it had to have been at least after 23:00. It was a peaceful walk, lit by the scattered lamps on the road and the city's glow and hum. Not a lot was spoken between him and me, though I remember trading compliments and informing him of how much I was looking forward to this.
We were enchanted by each other in the ambiance of the midnight that warded off the distant sounds of commerce, transit, and day-in-day-out hustle-bustle.
My other half had a sturdy arm around my curvy waistline, and a steady palm on my belly — my more supple touch sought to rouse him on his back while he did so. I was on his left side; I reckon it's the instinctive side of an alpha male for me to choose. It made me feel great; these fluttery butterflies in my head with his hold down there. I strived to stay as flirty and lewd as I could with my hookup. But mayhaps a more magical side of me gave a more devoted sort of touch to him, as plausible while in motion, as we neared wherever he lived. Maybe my caring touch hoped to sustain the comfort and warmth we had already shared at the gathering together. Perhaps it hoped to obtain more.
I can get a bit melancholy while on the sauce; it is a depressant, after all. I remember my touch carrying a gravity. Was my fling feeling it like it was? Nah, probably not. Regardless, my swooning and blushing from this tall and mysterious drifter, leading me to be fucked, may have evoked some facepalming drama. He had his arm around my waist. His hand pressed into my womb; it possibly jerked a tear in the corner of my eye or two. Maybe a little one. I can become very emotional when my guard is down like it was there; is that so bad?
I get this fucking longing to gratify another entity and receive something in return from it. It is kind of difficult to explain. Most of my frequented types did not give me this in return. I wanted to exploit some form of compromise — a chunk that was taken out of their armor by means I would hope to overhear during pillow talk, highs, trips, or something. I aspire to get a hard-ass such as this one with my arm wrapped around to open themselves up to me; make me feel meaningful, if not indispensable to them. Maybe then I would repay them by letting them see me open up — let them have a taste of what really flows through my heart.
Though I would find myself in similar situations shortly in the future, most of the liquor was subsiding by then; I only downed the one cup at the gala — granted, a large cup. The temperature had fallen, and I was freezing. I remember shivering and trembling, my teeth gritting, but this could have been from the looming plans. I will confess, I was slightly anxious since I knew what was coming. I was in this sexy rascal's grasp and heading with him towards the fabricated and murk unventured. It did not matter; it was a beneficial kind of worry, more of a therapeutic dilemma, or being in labor before childbirth — the kind that made me feel like a lady. I had to have been looking good — my heavy eyeliner to lose himself in; my myriad of long sable hair abound for him to stir and sway. He was treating me well. He had respect for me, and I knew he would not hurt me. I was fucking ready for this.
XIII
We'd reached our destination. I had deduced — all while keeping up with the tradition of oohing and awing over the immaterial and mundane on our way over — that the structure was a lesser idyllic sight, fixed closer to the street. It was more of a bungalow, with less of a yard in front — a bit of a far cry from the dazzling, bourgeois casa we'd trekked from in the minutes that felt like ages ago. But if it's Moolah I'm after, then they don't know me at all.
He took me around to the rear of the dwelling to unlock a door. The backyard was more spacious, only as I recall from the low level of visibility, it being past my bedtime. No moment was wasted going inside.
He closed the doorway. I heard the keys clank as they hit the kitchen counter. It was dim, save for a small tinted light seen in his living room — he had left it as such for us: dark. The curtains were closed. I heard a radio on low; 88.1, a jazz station — maybe to dissuade intruders? Or had he been planning something here all along? What space was there appeared to be well-kept, as if he wasn't home a lot — or when he was, he had a needy bombshell clinging to him as he did on this night. It had this atmosphere of order and neatness — that of an industrial and regulated one — a well-disciplined fellow. Though, it felt like a cozy and homey place to me, too.
I was only judging all of this in a brief instance because he turned to confront me. I gawked at him with a minor trace of hesitancy, as if I could not believe this was happening to me right now. He took me in his arms, and I melted into a fervent kiss.
XIV
You get out of me what you put into me. Most of the plights that I braved with men were pseudo and superficial. There was no real thought of affection from them. But this seemed offbeat. I was feeling it — the vibe and the passion. He was giving me everything he had while still being vertical with clothes on his person, and he was fucking good at it.
I don't know how long we were fondling one another or how we were veering towards the living room floor. As we did so, I understood that pieces of our clothing no longer wanted to be a part of the equation. I had my Beau's shirt off before we hit the rug. An effortless quintessence of a man was on top of me, giving it up to me, and I back to him. My top was still on, likely thinly sown and suggestive.
I must confess I had not been wearing a bra since that eventide when I left work. It is my habit to ditch a bra from my soma at any opportune respite I can get. I have claustrophobia, and they are so fucking choking and uncomfortable. And, yeah, what was underneath the required conduct and expectation for people to have raiment on their persona in Society was probably blatantly visible to the public, too — i.e., my voluptuous 30Ds. But why should I have to wear a bra on such a nefarious night? He already knew it, of course. His hands were well up into my shirt and directly applied to all that is magnificent back at the party. He had not seen them unfiltered yet, however. We were still kissing; necking; feeling each other up — making love with each other. Does this not seem like it could want to go on for an eternity?
My toned legs were wrapping around his back and pulling him in. I hugged him as close to me as I could. He touched me all over, was rubbing his hand on my shorts, right where I like it. Arousing noises were being born by me through concupiscence and pleasure. He stopped a moment, said nothing, only looked at me — my mood dazed and bewildered; my hair a scintillating and frantic mess, as he edged my top over my boobs. He paused another sec, and his eyes went wide. Nevertheless, he did not comment, and neither did I. Our facial expressions were our conversation. Maybe I would be getting another kind of 'facial' pretty soon. I looked at him and gave half a smirk with a feigned exhalation through my nose. He seized the meaning that I wanted this to proceed.
He smooched me all over my upstairs and became enraptured by the visage of my exquisite knockers handcrafted by God. I closed my eyes and felt hot inside as he did so, never ceasing to convey my profound affections to him. He was traveling further downstairs in his affections towards me. My scantily sported top, a fluorescent orange insert brand name as I hark back to, had been discarded — flung across the pad. Both of us still had our pants on, obscuring the most sacred and sought-after regions. His was all I was musing about; what kind of monstrosity would I have to tussle with here? I could only feel it confined to his pants — what I felt scared me and shortened my breath, made me bite a lip or two. I was so fucking aroused.
He was past my navel at this point; his tongue had been in there. My pants, still being equipped, did neither of us any good. It was time. He knew it, and so did I. He slid them down my legs and past my bare feet that draped over his shoulders. I have cute feet and toes, probably painted then. He saw them — before glimpsing at the shaven grandeur farther up, clearly conspicuous behind a decadent thong — and was not opposed to putting any part of me into his trap.
He did something like stick me in his mouth, and I did something such as stroke the excess of his penis in his jeans with my other foot if only to entice him — as is my intuition when an apex has my toes at his mercy. His blue jeans were indeed still present, and I would be giving him prompts to take them off in succession with my waxed legs spread for him. He did not succumb. He took his time and it was turning me the fuck on in the meantime.
My darling had skipped down several floors. He was now operating from bottom to top, inevitably leading to my delectable vulva and all points between — within and without; protruded and retracted. Would whatever animal that lay hungry in the foliage cause a prolapse when it sprung out to attack me? We — me and my pussy — had to wonder how bad this was going to be. What had we gotten ourselves into this time?
It was no tricky task for this specialist to maneuver around my slutty looking band of string and put his mouth on areas and orifices that need no introduction to Mankind. There was no excuse not to know the female anatomy in 2014. Like the rest of his touch, it was an intrinsic gift to him — the right amounts of oscillated pressure applied under my little canopy. All I could think to do was just lay there and deal with it, play with my boobies, bite my lip, look down in amazement and reverence and savor it.
This was a man who was not afraid or ashamed to go down on a woman. Evidently, this was about my pleasure, not his. I felt like a queen. He tapped his tongue right into my spot with my hand on his head whilst I was gasping in total awe of this hottie and pleading with him for it to continue and never desist. What more could a girl want? Everything was dripping in secretion, famished to have this panther make a meal out of us. His tongue in my box and on Dr. Grafenberg's spot was positively Awesome — I never use this word lightly.
XV
At this point, we had me moaning in agony for him, my legs trembling, and nerve endings bestowing euphoric bolts of lightning through my body. I was so fucking close, and yet, he paused. He brought my legs together and ditched the sad excuse of synthetic material that remained on me, leaving me in the nude. I do remember faintly saying to him, in helpless and perplexed excitement, “Let me see it, Daddy,” as if I had to tell this guy how to do his job. I could not help it; I needed it so fucking badly!
He took the sides of my arms in both his hands and elevated me from the floor. He didn't have to tell me twice when he stood to his feet. I got on my knees and put my hands on his legs, never forgetting eye contact — laborious as it was, to focus on anything but my prize. My mate had already trod well past the third base by now, and I hadn't even seen it yet — I would not malinger here. It was time for him to head for the home plate — the final sprint. He undid the button and saved the zipper for me. I'd waste no time keeping his briefs on, either. I wanted the shock from this to strike me — though slowly, steadily, and in all profundity, I gripped the tops to slide them down.
In exact, shuddered words of, “Oh my God,” as it lept out from behind the final barrier of cloth and fell from its weight, oxygen had been displaced in my lungs and replaced by another wave of an electrical current that detonated in my chest. I could not believe what I was bearing witness to here. Before then, I'd seen in propria persona what constitutes Perfect and Large dicks — these are not terrible items at all. But I had not seen a cock as colossal as his, staring me right in the face as tangible. This dude was Hung. How in Fuck's name was I going to manage this! He put the 'Well' in 'Well Endowed' in every literal and iterated sense.
My breath quivered, and all I could think to do next was to put my hands on it — yes, it required them both. I'm on my knees, naked and flushed, before this monument of a man looking down at me. He was petting my head and pampering my brown-black hair, encouraging and inspiring me. Fuck, I was hot. It just behooved me, instinctively, to begin the process of engulfing it. Need I go into copious detail here? I was a prodigy of oral sex — of any sex. The simple translation: I love fucking.
I heard his breathing go up and felt his grip begin to tighten. He didn't do anything brutish or obnoxious to me, only tilted his head to the ceiling to enjoy it. This delighted and satisfied me as I proceeded to go down on it further. I couldn't fit its entirety into the back of my throat, as diligent and persevered as I was, so I ran along its sides instead. I glanced up at him and sought his trust in me to put his nuts in my mouth — gently so as not to hurt them. One hand remained to stroke on his cock, the other wrapped around his leg. I closed my eyes and listened to his stifled groans from the fabulous head he was receiving. The erotic redolence of sex was in the air and affecting my anima. I felt both of our raised pulses; my own was crippling me. My heart could not beat any faster than it was; my body was ready to explode like a volcano.
I rose from my knees a bit to play with myself. I doubt he noticed me reaching down to rub my pussy and press a finger or two onto my asshole. I continued to suck his dick off and allow as much of it to slide down into my throat as I could. I was so fucking ready for this guy to vanquish us. How were we going to fit this? I trusted him to be helpful and patient; he seemed like such a nice and handsome gent.
We were communicating with each other only through our expression; it went without saying. Both of us knew what to do before the moment had arrived. My sweetheart saw me dawdling and hesitating with his circumference still in my yap and gently withdrew. He had his hand brushing the side of my adorable mug and went to a bended knee to lay on the soft carpet. He didn't have to signal me; tell me two times — we had already agreed upon it. It was beautiful and organic.
On my way back down to meet him, I gave fellatio for a moment longer, simply to show how much I cared and also to prep it for penetration. Then I settled my hands on his warm and naked hide and laid atop him, my comely profile facing his. My body was swollen in its arousal as I lay pressed against him, everything so sensitive in the slightest movement. My lover put arms around me; I was no longer cold. I was like china, but he was gentle, caring only for my comfort. I wanted to kiss him again for it, and now free in the nude with the thought of his lush cock eagerly waiting in the middle of my titillating legs.
My choice. An inexpressible joy that can only be comprehended while feeling the phenomena; two conglomerate bodies becoming a better and fuller whole. I felt like a part of this person. We laced hands, sought fidelity while entwined, and committed ourselves to one another. We withheld nothing. I felt safe; he would not harm me. I only go by my nature when I feel this fierce of a connection with my partner.
XVI
I don't recall any other specifics of our lovemaking prior to insertion. What I do remember about this night were the length and girth. We were going to have to take this slow; it went without saying as he caressed me, and I gave him whimpers and hints of how nervous I was. I was as ready for it as I would ever be; burning, drenched, and relaxed. His very erect Johnson was still loitering around the entrance to my pussy. No condom was involved — always a gamble, but he seemed like a well-kept enough chap to me. I took his hand in mine and guided it down my back to display my wish. I placed mine on his shaft and carefully prodded its head through my labia and onto my slit to squeeze it in.
Yeah, he was enjoying himself. I did not remove my cajoling gaze from him, either. It entailed some parted mouths, some blood-and-tears, some concentrated squints, and mixed cries of anguish and relief, but we slipped the tip in. Every part of my vaginal cavity was screaming, “No, don't do this to me, Mel! It's too big!” But despite her quandaries, this was working out for us. Notwithstanding her bitching and vanity, we'd managed it, hand in hand, side by side; we were in this together now. I began to acclimate to my man's ferocious size and take his cock like it was put on Earth, designed, and tent for my insides.
I did my utmost to have as every much of a blazing inch stretching me apart as possible. I dug my fingers into his chest and arched my back, going down on this fucking fire-breathing leviathan as much as I could stomach. Its master and ruler — its Neptune — only laid there with his eyes closed and head on the carpet. He had stopped touching me at that point. Was he just relishing in my depravity and my desperation to make this work? Various “oh gods” and “oh fucks” were forcibly ousted from my vernacular amidst each heavier land onto his column. My tits bounced up and down for his entertainment and viewing pleasure. How great does that sound?
Still, he lay there, hands behind his head like nothing was happening, and my determination to win over his heart didn't mean fuck all to him. I felt it striking withering blows to my cervix at that point, and a substantial number of fiery inches remained outdoors. I could not, for the life of me, adjoin his ball sack to my filled gape. I leaned back like I love to do and could not sit down on it all the way. It forced me to remain aloft, quite literally. This man was fucking huge — a cock to contend with a giant's. Enough said.
XVII
The challenging amount of size was negligible after some minutes of nurtured friction, slower plummets, and repeated grindings. This job was not without its complications. It's not kids' stuff; it's strenuous and taxing — this was not easy work, and Pussy and I were having our work cut out for us. There were pings of discomfort and pleasure, but eventually, I was landing on it in enough of a meticulous rhythm to begin to feel an orgasm in the making of such immense depth and explosive magnitude as I had never felt.
Its surface texture just felt so damn fine inside; words cannot tell. My membrane encompassed every pulsing vein and intricacy. Its foreign heat melded with my familiar — it accommodated the ache on the spot where I kept liking it to hit. I was getting comfortable, slicker from the continual reams in and out of my hole. It was getting a lot easier to endure, very rapidly.
The explosion, and my trip to it, would not be canceled. His cock was hitting the home plate, and then some. If any pain persisted as it broke through the gates during the relentless siege into my pink, I was ignoring it. It was too good to stop. I had no jurisdiction over myself at this point; it had all switched over to mental. Nothing else was relevant. God, can I get into it. I was getting ready to come all over Daddy's cock, and I was telling him so. He did not need to be apprised by me; he saw me getting close. He no longer just lay dormant but reciprocated with affection, put his hands all over me, and gave me the time of night.
The feeling of his acknowledgment, on its own, was enough to send me over the edge, then and there. I tried to hold out for as long as I could. Why? I do not know. Perhaps it was my pride. Maybe I didn't want him seeing how easy I was; or how much I was fancying him. I didn't trust myself enough to let go. It would not matter; he would force the orgasm out of me eventually, by my will or not.
Things were getting more vocal on my part; nothing said was being moderated. I have something of a terrible fucking lip, nihilistic as I tend to be. He began to pound into my body as I met with his — a synchronized love dance that has been going on between Man and his woman for quite some ti
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