Mughal-e-Azam

If you have not read Chapters 1 & 2, perhaps you should. As a reminder to those who have, the story so far – Georgina rebelled against her bullying husband Wayne and he left the flat after their fight. He went to Georgina’s sister Harriet, with whom he had been having an affair that Georgina had never even suspected. Georgina packed her possessions and left her old life behind. Her subsequent celebration of freedom led to group sex with three men who mistook her for a prostitute – and paid her for their pleasure. She ran from the scene horrified by what she had done and what they had thought of her.
CHAPTER THREE Sexual confusion and murder
Georgina’s flight ended in a park. It was late afternoon. She sat on a bench and tried to calm herself. She watched others walk or sit, singles and couples, old and young. Normal people with normal lives. She felt different from them. Lost. They knew who they were. She didn’t even know why she did what she did.
Gradually she relaxed. She blocked the thoughts of what she had done with thoughts of what she should do. She was still firm in her resolve that she would never go back to Wayne. There was no life for her there. And she wished to become alive again. Her own person. Not the half person she had been as Wayne’s wife. Not the person she had been for the afternoon either, not a whore, her own person, whatever that was. She needed help. She needed someone to talk to who would care enough to give her support.
There was only one person to turn to. Harriet had always been strong. Always been her own person. That was the next step as surely now as it had been when she left the flat intent on finding a real life.
She walked slowly to Harriet’s house, watching other people moving past her. They all seemed to be traveling in the secure knowledge of where they were going. She wanted that same security.
Harriet was at home, Georgina could see her sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. She tapped on the glass of the back door, opened it and stepped in.
Harriet sat where she was, her face registering no surprise and no concern. She looked as though she was waiting for her.
“So what’s going on?” she asked. “Why is your luggage in my hall?”
“I’ve left Wayne,” Georgina said. “I put the bags there this morning.” It seemed like an incredibly long time ago.
“According to him, he left you. He came round. He’s looking for you. Where have you been? And why are you dressed like a tart?” Her tone was flat with disinterest and disdain.
Georgina looked at her sharply. “I dress the way I want. I’ve been out. I’m an adult.”
“Then try behaving like one. What happened, PMT take over? Wayne said you went mad and started throwing things just because he was home half an hour late.”
“What?”
“He said he had to leave the flat to give you time to calm down.”
“I did throw things - well, a cup of tea. And I did go mad. Then I went sane. I’ve left him, for good.”
“Don’t be stupid, Georgina, you’ve had a row, you’ve made a fool of yourself, now it’s time to go back and sort it out. You can’t end a marriage just because your husband’s half an hour late home.” The flatness of tone was changing. Harriet now sounded irritated.
“I’ve left him because I don’t like him hitting me.”
“Hitting you? If I was Wayne I’d smash you into a pulp. Look at the way you dress. You always were stupid but do you really believe men like their wives to look like tramps? He told me what happened. He said you hit him.”
“I did,” Georgina answered.
“Then what the hell do you expect? You always were a spoilt, bad tempered brat. He’s quite calm about it. Though I don’t know why. He wants you back. He’s worried about you, and very upset that you left. He should be back at the flat by now. You can use the phone. Tell him you’ve come to your senses.”
“I have come to my senses. And I’m not going back to him.”
“Oh? So what are you going to do then? Because you’re not staying here. You have a flat of your own and you have a marriage to sort out. So get your bags and go home.”
“I’m not going back.” Georgina was almost in tears.
“Three years of marriage. Not quite till death do us part. He was the only decent bloke who ever showed any interest in daddy’s little princess. He’s got a good job, a nice flat, gives you everything you want. And what do you do? Give up work, waste money, keep the place like a pigsty and dress like a slut. You’re a waste of space with the morals of a tom cat.”
“He made me stop working.” Georgina was shaken by Harriet’s indictment.
“And for that you want to leave him? You’re a selfish little cow. Now take your stuff and get back to him before he changes his mind.”
The logic was too annoying. Damned if you did and damned if you didn’t. Harriet had always been the same, always judgmental, always knowing best.
“I’ve left him. I’m not going back!” Georgina was shouting now. “I should have known you’d take Wayne’s side. He’s a bastard and I’m not going back to him. Not ever.”
“Well I’m not going to be a part of breaking up your marriage. It’s time for you to grow up, little sister. Get a hold of yourself. You can’t run to Daddy this time. Daddy’s little princess has to sort out her own life now.”
The venom in the tone shocked Georgina almost as much as the casual reference to the death of their father.
“Harriet!”
“Harriet!” Harriet mimicked. “Stop being such a soft selfish bitch. Grow up and fuck off home to your husband. You aren’t staying here. Got it?”
“I got it,” Georgina said. “I have grown up. And I’m not going back to my bastard husband. And if you don’t want to help me, then fuck you! Since you like Wayne so much you can have him with my blessing. It’s time you got another man in your life you sanctimonious bitch.”
She was surprised when the flat of Harriet’s hand struck her cheek.
“Don’t speak to me like that you pathetic little slut or I’ll give you a slapping that will make you realise how gentle Wayne is. Take your fucking belongings and fuck off out of the house. And don’t come back till you can behave yourself.”
Georgina took her bags. Anger carried her and the bags out of the house and down the street.
Then she realised she had nowhere to go.

Wayne arrived half an hour after Georgina left. He found Harriet in a strange mood.
“Still looking for your little wife then? She’s been here. Why didn’t you sort it out this morning?”
“She’d already left the flat when I got back. I knew she’d come here. Where did she go?”
He sounded as though he cared and that irritated Harriet. She shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care either. I chucked her out and told her to go home. She said she isn’t going back to you though.”
“Where will she go then?” Wayne sounded genuinely worried.
“I don’t know. I don’t think she knows either. She’ll go back to you in the end. She hasn’t any gumption and she’s got nowhere else to go. Maybe a night on the streets will do her good. Has she any money?”
“I don’t think so, maybe a few quid, but that’s all, unless she took the cheque book and went to the bank.”
“Good. Then don’t worry about it. A night walking the streets carrying her luggage will do her good.” She laughed. “She was dressed for it.”
“Maybe I could find her.” Wayne half turned towards the door.
“Don’t bother looking.” Harriet said. She smiled at him. “Let her sweat for a while. Or better still, let her shiver. She deserves it. She was nasty and upset me. She upset you too. I think we should make each other feel better.”
“I ought to try to find her. I have someone to see as well.”
“Someone to see?”
“Business,” he said.
“That can wait too. I want to burn off some of my anger, and I’ve just thought of a very nice way of doing it.” She undid the top button of her blouse.
“I really ought to go,” Wayne said.
“Don’t be a silly boy.” She undid another button and another. Wayne didn’t move. She pulled the blouse free of her skirt and held it open. “Have you started thinking about something other than my stupid sister and your stupid business?” He didn’t answer.
She stepped closer to him and put her hand to his crutch. She squeezed gently and felt him thicken. She lowered her hand and cupped his balls. Again she squeezed, increasing the pressure until the expression on his face told her she was close to causing pain. She smiled at him again. “Now you know I don’t like arguments.” While the hand maintained its grip on his balls her other hand moved to undo the top of his trousers and slide down his zip.
“I want you upstairs and naked on that bed. And I want it now. OK?” She squeezed a little more.
“Not so hard,” Wayne said.
“Tell me what you are going to do,” Harriet whispered.
Wayne grinned sheepishly. “I’m going upstairs.”
She pulled his penis free from his underpants and stroked it. “And then?”
“I’m going to take off my clothes.”
“Good boy,” Harriet said. She stroked his penis again, then released him. “Up you go.”
She smiled as she watched him clutch at his trousers and head for the stairs. She didn’t want him to find Georgina yet. Let the bitch have a few really miserable hours before she had to crawl back home. It would make her all the more sensible in future. Harriet wanted to keep Wayne, but on her terms. And that meant Georgina had to be his ever loving wife. There would be no fun in it otherwise.
She followed Wayne upstairs. She intended to enjoy a long and playful session. He would be begging for release before she let him finish.
Wayne stripped quickly while Harriet watched.
“Hands and knees,” she said.
Wayne grinned and went down on all fours.
“Good boy.” She smiled at him. “You deserve a reward.” She removed her blouse and bra. “Shoes.”
Wayne crawled over to her and removed her shoes.
“Knickers and tights.”
His hands went under her skirt and pulled her knickers and tights down, then worked them off her feet.
“Good dog. Up on the bed.”
He took his position on all fours on the bed.
“What a pretty dirty dog he is.” Harriet lent against the door frame and smoothed her hands over her breasts. She smiled at him, then moved beside the bed and stroked his back. Her other hand went under his belly to hold his cock. She pulled on it until it was hard.
“I think I’ll have you tied. Lie down.”
Wayne lay on his back. She tied his ankles and wrists to the corners of the bed.
“And now we shall begin. I’m going to play with you until you’re exhausted.”

The suitcase seemed to have doubled their weight by the time Georgina found a small hotel. She registered. It was not a cheap place but she needed a haven to give her the time to stop and think. She was irritated by the look the receptionist gave her and by the request that she pay in advance, but she managed to contain her anger.
She was shown to a small room with a very small double bed, but at least it had its own bathroom. She stripped and stood under the shower. The hot water running down her body washed off some of the anger and loneliness she was feeling. She noticed flaky patches on her breasts and realised what they were. Dried sperm. She scrubbed her whole body clean, fighting the thought that her sister was right, that she was a slut. That she had the morals of a tomcat.
Once out of the shower she lay on the bed and wept. She wept for the loss of Wayne. Not for the Wayne she left, but for the Wayne she thought she’d married. She wept for the loss of her sister. She had been so sure that Harriet would support her in her decision, would listen to her story of married life. She wept for the dress that cost sixty pounds and the return of sixty pounds that the dress had brought about.
After her weeping she felt more calm. She also felt hungry. She had hardly eaten all day. She dressed in jeans and sweatshirt and left the hotel to get something to eat. Her eyes felt puffy and she didn’t fell like being seen by the other guests.
The reluctance to be seen by others made her postpone eating. It was seven o’clock. She wandered the streets for a while, then came to a decision. She would talk to Harriet once again. She just needed to talk quietly and calmly and explain the truth of the marriage she had left. Wayne had poisoned Harriet’s mind before she got there. If she explained quietly and reasonably, without calling her sister names and shouting at her, then they could work it out. Georgina did not want to feel totally alone in the world.
It didn’t occur to her to use the front door. She went round the back. The door was unlocked so she walked straight into the kitchen and through to the living room, calling out Harriet’s name as she went.
If she’d heard the noise before she called out she would have left quietly and returned later, but she’d already called when she noticed the noise of bedsprings and heard the moans.
She was still going to leave, hoping she hadn’t been heard, when the noises from upstairs stopped abruptly.
“Who is it?” Harriet’s voice.
“It’s only me.”
“I’ll be down in a minute.” Harriet’s voice again. She sounded breathless.
Georgina grinned to herself, “Morals of a tomcat she says, and she’s bonking some bloke’s brains out.”
There was a scurrying upstairs and some whispers. The trouble with modern houses is that they’re not intended for real people to live in. Footsteps on the stairs, and Harriet in a dressing gown.
“I was just running a bath,” she said.
“I heard.” Georgina grinned at her. If you’d told me that was why you didn’t want me to stay I would have understood.”
Harriet looked frosty.
“It’s OK, I’ll go. I only wanted to say sorry for losing my temper. I’ll come for a chat some other time if I’m allowed.”
“I don’t want you using the back door again.” Harriet said. “I’m entitled to some privacy. Have you decided what you’re doing yet?”
“Yes, I told you, I’m not going back to Wayne. Now you get back to your fancy man, I’ll come and see you some other time.” She grinned and waved, then left by the back door.
She had almost walked out of the street when she realised what she had seen. Even then she had to go back and check. It was Wayne’s van, parked a little way down from Harriet’s house. She looked up at the bedroom window in time to catch the glimpse of a face before it ducked out of sight.
Harriet was bonking her Wayne! Well she wished her joy of him. She gave a V sign to the house, kicked the van door and stomped away.
She marched back to her hotel, her only possible place of refuge, hardly noticing the tears that ran down her cheeks. She went straight into the bar and ordered a double gin and tonic, then sat in a corner and nursed her drink. She felt truly alone. She had lost her husband and was glad, lost her sister and was sad. She had no job and limited funds. Nothing seemed worthwhile. She bought another double gin.
A man in his fifties sat near to her with his pint of beer. He nodded as he sat down. “You look a bit fed up,” he said.
Georgina scowled at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. Only trying to be friendly.”
“I don’t want to be picked up.”
“That’s good, I’ve got a bad back.” He grinned and she was almost able to raise a smile in return. “Anyway, I’m too old to pick up young girls in pubs. Are you all right? You do look very miserable you know?”
“I feel miserable. And I’m not in the mood for company. So just leave me in peace please.”
The man nodded and adjusted his chair so that he was looking out at the bar rather than towards her.
Georgina sighed. She was miserable, but even a few words with a stranger had lessened her loneliness. She finished her drink and went back to the bar for another. When she sat down again she felt bad about being so abrupt.
“I’m sorry for being rude,” she said quietly to him. “I am feeling very miserable.”
The man turned to her. “No matter,” he said. “We all feel like that sometimes. You’re staying here aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Hotels are very lonely places.”
Georgina nodded again.
“How much longer are you here?”
“I don’t know.” She needed to find somewhere. She needed a job.
“I’m off tomorrow, Three days in one place and off to the next. I only spend three nights at home each week. At times I get really bored with the traveling.” He shrugged. “Then again, at times I get really bored at home. Have you eaten yet?”
Georgina shook her head.
“I’m going somewhere else to eat tonight. This place is all right, but I like a change to shorten the evening. I’d be glad of some company if you’re not too worried about being seen around with an old man.”
“Are you trying to pick me up?” Georgina asked. “Because I’m really not in the mood.”
The man smiled. “If you would like me to pick you up, I’d be thrilled. But if you’d just like some company and you’re willing to have diner with me, I’d be very pleased. I’m not sure if I know the difference, but I do know when a woman’s happy to chat and when she’s willing to do more than chat. And I don’t press my attentions where they’re not wanted.”
“I am hungry,” Georgina looked at him very seriously, “and I would like some company. But that’s all.”
“Fine by me. Do you want to change? I want to get out of this suit and have a quick shower.”
Georgina nodded.
“What room are you in and I’ll give you a knock when I’m ready.”
She told him. They finished their drinks and went to their rooms.
Georgina felt a bit unsteady from a surfeit of gin. She chose a skirt and blouse. She had just finished dressing and doing her face when there was a knock on the door. She opened it.
“Ready?”
“Almost.” She stepped back to let him into the room while she brushed her hair.
“Now that’s a nice dress,” he said. He was looking at the dress Georgina had bought the day before, it was hanging over the back of a chair. She looked at him in surprise. He grinned.
“I know my dresses. I travel in women’s clothes.” He waited for her response.
She laughed but failed to return the joke. He shrugged. “Not many women can get away with a dress like that. It’s the sort of thing many want but few can wear.”
“You mean it looks tarty.”
“I mean it looks beautiful if you have the body for it, and you say it looks tarty if you haven’t.” He grinned at her.
She thought of Margot and Harriet, both of whom were a bit chunky. She giggled.
“I would like to see you wearing it, it’s not often I get the chance to see my best lines worn by the people they’re designed for. Are you ready?”
Georgina nodded. She put down the hairbrush and picked up her purse.
“Then let’s go.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to change first?” she asked, with thinly veiled sarcasm.
He grinned. “You look exceptionally beautiful as you are. I am honoured to escort you.”
Georgina did a mock curtsey and followed him out of the room.
Her new companion finally introduced himself as Roger. He chatted easily, talking about the clothes he took round a variety of the smaller and more exclusive shops. They settled on an Indian restaurant and Roger ordered a large and varied meal. Georgina drank little, and gradually the effects of the gin wore off. After the meal they went to a pub and took drinks into the garden.
“So,” Roger asked when they were settled, “what is the problem? You really are upset about something.”
The easy conversation and good food had a relaxing effect on Georgina and she was able to tell him about Wayne and the breakdown of their marriage. He cheered loudly enough to make her feel a little embarrassed when she got to the part where she knocked Wayne to the floor.
“I don’t see why you’re miserable, you’re well shot of him.”
Georgina nodded. “I’m not miserable about that. It’s my sister.” She explained how her sister had told her to return Wayne, then how she had found Wayne and her sister in bed together. And he laughed.

Ringggggg!
Jenny Marshall opened her eyes. Her hand was placed on her crotch, her panties wet.
“Damn, it’s morning already.”
She had just awoken from something rather erotic. Jenny kicked the blankets out of the bed and let out a yawn. Her room is in quite a mess and she didn’t really bother. Workload had been heavy for the past one month and she had to work overtime almost everyday. Hong Kong’s economy is hitting a low for the moment and it seem to a norm now to continue working after office hours. Not that she is complaining much, at least she gets to see the guy she had secretly fancied.
Jenny got out of the shower, looking fresh. She stood infront of the mirror. Her 36C breasts looked proportional and curvy on her slim 5′7 frame. She looked at the clock.
“Damn I’m gonna be late.”
Jenny quickly got dressed and left her rented apartment.
This morning is particular hot. The aircon in her car had broken down. She quickened her pace towards the office lift, which the lift door was closing.
“Sorry wait!”
Just as the door was about to close, it opened again. A sunny smile came into her vision. It was Lee Wing. Her eyes lit up.
“Oh its you Lee! Good morning!”
“Hiya Jenny. Good morning to you too. Oh by the way you look great in spectacles.” Lee complimented.
“Thanks!” Jenny smiled, That is all she needed to hear to keep her happy for the rest of the day. She was glad he noticed..
There are only two of them in the lift. She looked at Lee. Standing at 5’9 with a dark blue shirt, black pants and a black tie, Lee looked smart and suave. His hair is neatly combed and it compliments his sharp features well. Her eyes moved up and down, secretly admiring Lee… and her eyes eventually landed at his crotch area.
“Mmmm” she let out a faint sound.
“I beg your pardon?” Lee asked.
“Uhhh No.”
Jenny flustered and wondered if he had caught her glance.
Lee took out a packet of tissue from his pocket and handed it to Jenny. All the initial rushing to work in the early morning and the hot weather had made Jenny sweat more than usual today. Standing beside Lee made her feel even warmer.
“Thanks”
“Oh I had a dream about you yesterday.”
“Haha really? What was it about?” Lee asked.
“Nothing really…just some weird and funny dream.”
“Heh, okay.”
“Lunch together?” Jenny added.
“I love that.”
Jenny hardly realized lunchtime had already arrived. Her phone rang. It was Lee.
“Hi Jenny. Ready for lunch?”
“Oh I’ll be ready in a minute!”
Everywhere seem crowded during lunch hours. The two settled for Indian food in a restaurant nearby.
“So mind telling me the funny dream of yours?”
“I’ve forgotten about most of it really. I only somewhat remember you were part of it.”
Jenny lied. She couldn’t possibly admit she had dreamt about kneeling down before him, in the office lift, his hard erected cock in her mouth. She couldn’t tell him that.
“So what do you do in your free time?” Jenny asked.
“Movies, not the Hollywood stuff but more of independent films around the world, jazz music, playing the piano, reading, Chinese calligraphy… Hmm that’s about it. You?”
“Learning Japanese, shopping, movies, music, TV… pretty ordinary. I like collecting Asian films(She has a secret habit of collecting Japanese Porn DVDs which nobody knows as well) too. Hah you have forgotten to mention about accompanying your girlfriend in your free time did ya?”
“Gf? Nah, been unattached for 2 years already”
“Oooh I see”
The basement car park lift door opened. They entered along with a few others into the lift. Jenny noticed another man staring at her chest sheepishly. She felt uncomfortable. Wearing a black knee length skirt, white collared shirt and high heel shoes, Jenny looked good. Not wanting to make a fuss out of it, Jenny coolly adjusted her black coat so as to cover her tits, which looked like they could really burst out of the tight white shirt anytime. She moved her position from being beside Lee, who is sending messages on his cellular phone to being in front of Lee. The lift stopped at the ground floor. The moment the lift opened, a crowd rushed in. Jenny was pushed back against Lee, her back on his chest. The crowd proceeded to squeeze in until the lift is completely full and crowded.
Jenny’s butt was pressed against Lee’s crotch. Thoughts ran in her head. What would be his reaction? Her doubts were quickly dismissed. Something was growing in size. Something hard and warm pressing against her butt. It was Lee’s erection. She pretended as if she didn’t notice and even purposely increase the pressure of her butt against his erection. She could hear Lee’s breathing heavier. Teasing him this way greatly turned Jenny on. Her white-laced panties were damp. She felt slightly daring, and pretend to appear in a way as if the people in front are squeezing behind a little. With this excuse her ass found comfort once again in rubbing harder against Lee’s hardness. She could almost hear him moan a little.
The lift opened at 13th floor. Most of the people in the lift went out. Jenny sighed. How she wished the lift would break down or something. She was so turned on already. She let her mind wander a little… Did Lee enjoy it? Is he as turned on as Jenny herself? She imagined him cumming in his pants and looking embarrassed. Now that their bodies are separated, she glanced at Lee… His face is a little red. He is sweating a bit. The bulge in his pants looked as if his pants might tear anytime. He moved his hands down, right hand holding his left, covering his erection. Jenny grinned.
They had to work overtime again today. The hectic workload had suppressed her lust. She forced herself not to think about it for the moment. Maybe later when she got home. One by one, her colleagues left. It was already 10.45pm. She had finished her work for the day. She got out of her seat and walked around a little, purposely walking towards Lee’s room. The door was opened and the computer was still on. “Hmm. Maybe he left already.” Jenny thought. Jenny walked into the room and sat in front of his computer. She opened the Internet browser. “Mmm I wonder what type of websites would be in his bookmarks.” Jenny knew it was wrong to peek but she dismissed it as harmless.
“Let’s see… “ Most of the websites are pretty much about movies, music, world news, etc… She moved the mouse and clicked on documents. There is a Microsoft word document titled “Jen”. Curious as a cat, Jenny clicked on the file. It turned out to be an erotic story narrated from a first person’s perspective about a scenario where robbers “forced” the narrator at gunpoint into fucking his White female colleague late one night. Jenny read every single word of it…especially the part about how the character in the story enjoyed every single part of his colleague named “Jenny”, how he loved the taste of her pussy juices…
While reading the story and convinced she is alone, she slid her hand into her skirt, making circles on the outline of her panties… She was so turned on. A wet patch formed on her lacy panties. She moaned lightly as she reads on. Her finger about to get some work in. All if a sudden…
“Oh I didn’t know you were still here. What the…”
“uh!…!!!” Jenny nearly fainted out of shock. Lee was standing at the door, his hand holding a cup of coffee, mouth opened, in awe.
They stared at each other for a moment, both didn’t know what to say. Lee’s face turned red. Jenny redder. Lee closed the door.
“Better not let anyone else see you…” Lee said, acting as if everything is normal and okay.
“Oh!!!” Jenny realized her hand is still on her crotch area. Jenny wanted to cry. She had never been as embarrassed as this her whole life. She composed herself and sat stood up. Lee noticed his story on the computer screen.
“So you read it?”
“….erm.. yeah. You saw it…”
“Sorry. I apologized for fantasizing about you in the story. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No its okay really. I supposed everyone has their own sexual fantasies.”
“So you liked my story?”
“What else would you think I’m doing just now?” Jenny faked a laugh, pretending everything was cool and normal. “Please I beg you, don’t ever let anyone know what I did just now…I’ll do anything…” Jenny plead, almost sobbing.
“Don’t worry sweetie, I won’t tell anyone. I won’t harm a good friend.” Lee smiled, although awkward, he tried sounding as if nothing happened. “You’ll do anything? Okay, how about lunch tomorrow. You pay.”
Jenny’s face lit up. She no longer felt threatened. She was surprised Lee didn’t even try taking advantage of her. Not that she would really mind…she secretly hoped he would. But since he didn’t, she was nonetheless impressed as well. “Do you like me?” Jenny asked
“erm… yeah…”
“Well, I’ve no money to treat you for lunch. How about this?”
Jenny slowly unbuttoned her shirt…Lee’s eyes widened. Out came her 36C tits into his view. Less than 15 seconds, Jenny stood only in her white lacy bra and panties. Lee licked his lips. Jenny walked towards Lee…turned her back against him.
“Help me with this honey…” Referring to undoing her bra.
Her bra seem to drop the moment Lee touched its strap. Jenny led Lee’s hands around her waist…”
“Hold me”
Lee pulled Jenny close to him. Their bodies touched. His erection pressing against her ass…Lee took off his shirt. And he hugged her from behind. Here, unlike in the lift this afternoon, where Jenny was pressing herself against Lee, he was the one rubbing against her now. She felt so turned on by his erection rubbing against her soft ass cheeks. Their skin met. She could feel his smooth chest pressing against her back. His hands moved to her tits…caressing them wantonly… squeezing them together…playing with them. He kissed Jenny’s neck, sucking onto the skin. Jenny let out a moan. Lee led Jenny to the couch in the office. There, their lips met…tongues wrestling with one another…fighting for territory. Lee licked Jenny’s lips…moving down to her neck, his hands still fondling and enjoying the softness of her breasts… He continued to move downwards…. He pressed both her tits together…and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking it with wanton lust. Her nipples were erect. He seemed hungry, hungry for sex, hungry for love. Jenny spread opens her legs, wrapping them around Lee’s well-toned body. She stroked Lee’s hair while he buries his face in her softness… Their lips met again. He held her left thigh and kissed her leg.
And he buried his face. Not the tits this time. Somewhere further down.
“Uhhhhhhhh” Jenny let out a moan. Lee’s face was on her crotch…rubbing his face against the soft exterior of the panties…his tongue licking on the particularly wet spot.
“Mmm, let’s get this out of the way dear…” Lee took off Jenny’s panties. Jenny’s bush was well trimmed…Lee kissed Jenny’s pussy lips, as if it is her lips itself. He looked at Jenny’s face while he kissed. “Ohhh Lee Wing…” Jenny moaned. Her experienced heightened when her eyes locked with his, lovingly. Lee’s tongue moved in circles around Jenny’s clit…and proceeded to lick in alphabetical orders with his tongue, occasionally halting just to suck on her clit for a moment. Jenny’s moaning got louder and louder. By the time Lee was in the alphabet “P”, Jenny was ready to cum. Her body was jerking slightly…her neck, chest, underarms and palms are starting to moisten with sweat…
“Ahhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Jenny exploded. Spasms and waves of pleasure hit every single of her body. She felt weak, her body tingling and warm. Lee’s handsome face was drenched in Jenny’s love juices. Lee continued licking.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”
Jenny felt it was time to return this gentleman’s favor. She got onto her knees, looking upwards at Lee’s face. She unzipped his pants. His bulge wrapped in a pair of gray cotton underwear. She kissed the bulge. It grew slowly as his lust pumps into his manhood. She let loose his constraining undies, her eyes fixed on his cock. It was beautiful. It looked clean, uncut, 6 inches of pleasure. Not too big, not too small. Just the right size. His pubic was trimmed as well. She slowly held his manhood in her hand, feeling the hardness and the warmness of it, while her other hand cupped his balls. She licked the little blob of precum on the tip of his cock. Lee moaned. He fondled her face and stroked her hair. Jenny took it into her mouth. Sliding it in and out with precision, her left hand playing with his balls. Lee fondled with Jenny’s nipples and breasts…Lee felt immerse pleasure. Seeing Jenny’s beautiful face sucking on his cock has been one of his fantasies. Sensing Lee might cum anytime, she took his cock out of her mouth. With 6 inches of flesh still in her right hand, she brought forward her tits so she could rub it against them.
Her soft breasts rubbing against the hardness of his cock. Lee placed his cock between her tits, with Jenny squeezing them together. He began tit-fucking her 36Cs.
“Uhh so soft…they are so soft and bouncy” Lee moaned
“Lee… I want you inside me” Jenny whispered softly.
Jenny was now on all fours. A pair of hands on her ass cheeks. Lee’s manhood rubbing against her anus, and then against her pussy.
“uhhhhh” Jenny let out a soft moan the moment his cock entered. Lee entered slowly, and started humping. He was soft and gentle at first. But his timing slowly built up…accelerating in speed…her tits swing and bounce faster and harder as moments passed by. His hands on her tits while he continue fucking her faster and faster.
They changed into missionary position. Again, Lee slowly build up his pace….Jenny was so wet, the sliding in and out of Lee’s cock was making “slurping” sounds. While fucking missionary, Lee was pressing his thighs downwards, so that his cock was would hit slightly upwards. With one hand firmly on Jenny’s right breast, Lee found his free hand massaging Jenny’s clit while he continues to pump his cock faster and faster…Jenny was ready to cum again…. Lee was ready for the final too.
“mmmmahhhhhhhhhhhhh”. The second wave hit Jenny like a tsunami. Her mouth opened. Eyes closed…
Lee yelled in pleasure. He dismounted Jenny and aim at Jenny’s tits. His cum shot out into the air, seemingly endless. Jenny’s face and tits were covered in Lee’s cum. She licked some of it that got onto her lips and tasted it. Lee rubbed the cum on Jenny’s tits and spread it around to the rest of her tits….massaging them as if it was lotion. They spent the rest of the night cuddling and holding each other in arms till the wee hours. They didn’t go home.
The next morning, the boss arrived early and saw them still clad in yesterday’s clothes. He commented “Good. It seems that both of you had worked overtime the whole night. We need more committed workers like you.”
Lee’s eyes locked with Jenny’s. They smiled.

This is a continuation of my last FICTIONAL story, “Oral Sex while Sleeping,” where Tim receives a blow job while he is sleeping from me (Dave.) You may remember that Tim has insomnia and his doctor prescribed a very powerful sleeping pill that he must take every night. Once he is asleep, he is out like a light until the next morning. While he is sleeping, I come into his room, open Tim’s silky boxer shorts, stroke and suck his cock until he cum’s in my mouth. This was the first time that I have ever had male to male sex and I found that I love it, and can’t wait to do it again.
*
The day after I sucked my first cock, I am at work and can think of nothing else but sucking on Tim’s cock. I am counting the hours until Tim is asleep so that I can stroke his cock and feel it sliding in and out of my mouth again. I just can’t wait to once again taste Tim’s hot cum on my tongue and to swallow it. Just thinking about it makes my cock throb in my underpants. I can feel the wetness in my jockey shorts. I am now sitting at my desk with a major erection, which is pushing out my pants like a tent. I am tempted to open up my fly, whip out my stiff cock and jerk off, but there are several of my co-workers nearby and I’m afraid that I will be caught. So, I resume my paper work and try to forget about Tim until tonight.
The workday finally ends and I arrived home to my apartment. Tim is already there and is cooking some pasta for the two of us. While we are eating and chatting, I am looking at Tim’s lips and thinking how nice it would be to feel those lips on my stiff shaft. It would be so wonderful to shoot my cream into Tim’s mouth and then kiss him and taste my own cum on Tim’s tongue and lips.
The hours go by very slowly. We watched TV and chatted about our day, and finally around ten o’clock, Tim takes his shower and prepares for bed. I watch him take his sleeping pill, and as he passes me to head for his bedroom in just his silky boxer shorts, I can clearly see the outline of his cock. Little does he know, that I will soon be sucking on it.
I went into the shower next, and while I am washing myself, my cock is as hard as a rock thinking about what I will be doing with Tim’s cock shortly. After drying off, I put on my jockey shorts only, and head for my bedroom. My cock is hard and wet as I lie there thinking about different things I could try with Tim’s cock. Around midnight, I get up and head for his bedroom.
I pushed open his door and stepped inside. He is in the same position as last night. He is lying on his back with the sheet covering him up to his waist. The two windows are open and some light is filtering in from the street lamps. A gentle warm breeze is coming in through the screens. I walked over to the bedside and watched Tim for a minute. His steady, deep breathing indicated he was sound asleep. I carefully pulled down the sheet past his ankles, and could see outline of my desire through his shorts. My hard cock was throbbing.
I followed the same script as the night before. I rubbed his cock softly through his shorts and could feel it move under my hand. I sat down on the side of the bed, opened the button on his shorts, and opened his fly wide. I again started to tremble from the anticipation of feeling another man’s cock, and knowing I would soon have it in my mouth enjoying the feel of it sliding past my lips and rubbing my tongue. I reached inside and gently pulled out his cock which was only semi-hard. I wanted to feel it grow inside my mouth, so I leaned down and placed my lips around the head. I started to suck it lightly and lick around the velvet tip. I felt it getting harder in my mouth and loved the feeling. I started to slide my lips down the shaft and back up again. I did this two or three times and now Tim’s cock was like a steel rod. The tip was covered with his pre-cum juice and I licked all around the head. It tasted slightly salty but I liked it.
I was very hot and my cock needed some attention. I stood up and slipped my underpants off and felt the warm air blowing on my now totally naked body. It was nice to feel the air blowing on my erect cock that was wet with my own pre-cum. I sat back down on the side of the bed, and held Tim’s ridged cock in my right hand, and my stiff shaft in my left hand. I started to slide both hand up and down, masturbating the both of us. It felt so nice to hold two cock’s at the same time. I kept moving my hands slowly up and down until I thought I might cum. I took my hands off both cock’s until the feeling passed.
I had an idea. I rearranged myself on the bed so that I had one knee on each side of Tim’s hips. My legs were wide open and I was looking down at his cock. I took Tim’s cock in my left hand and pointed it straight up. I held my cock in my right hand and pointed it straight out, at the head of his cock and moved a little closer so that our two cock heads were touching. I started rubbing the head of my cock against the head of Tim’s cock and the feeling was incredible. Both cock’s were leaking pre-cum juice and were very slippery. I moved the tip of Tim’s cock so it could rub the bottom of my cock head which is the most sensitive, and where I feel the most pleasure. I call this “my pleasure spot.” When I am jerking off, this spot gives me, and most men, the most pleasure.
I moved my cock head and rubbed it back and forth on Tim’s “pleasure spot.” I heard him breathing more heavy now, and soft moans came from his lips. I found that while kneeling, if I sat back down on my legs, and moved my knees up a little toward the head of the bed, the entire length of our shafts would be touching. As I did this, I placed both my hands around both cock’s and squeezed them together. This felt so beautiful. Two hard cock’s flat against each other, with cock heads touching. I could now feel the bottom of my balls lying against the top of Tim’s balls. I just sat there and enjoyed the sight and feeling of our two hard cock’s together.
I started to pump my hips up and down along the length of Tim’s hot cock Each time his cock head rubbed my pleasure spot, I almost shot my load of cum. It must have felt good to Tim too, because he was breathing very heavy and moaning in pleasure. Both cock’s were leaking clear juice and sliding easily up and down each other’s shaft. I was getting close, and would not be able to last much longer before I cum in buckets. I couldn’t believe that I was actually humping Tim’s hard cock. I was so hot watching my cock slide up and down Tim’s shaft, especially watching our cock heads rub back and forth. I felt my balls bouncing on top of his balls, and each time I came down, I could feel Tim’s silky boxer shorts rubbing against my ass.
I knelt up slightly and held his cock in my left hand and guided it to where I wanted to feel it. While pumping my cock with my right hand, I started sliding his wet slippery cock all around underneath my balls and it felt wonderful. I leaned forward a little and was able to rub his cock on that sensitive spot between my balls and my asshole. I moved my right hand faster on my shaft, while I rubbed the wet tip of Tim’s cock head back and forth over my asshole. I thought about pushing my ass down over his cock, an the thought of doing this, pushed me over the edge and I could feel my hot cum starting the journey to climax.
I quickly knelt up, held Tim’s cock straight up in the air, and with my other hand, pointed my cock head so it rested against the pleasure spot on his cock. Then I watched as my cock started to erupt it’s warm creamy load. The first two spurts were so strong, I could actually hear them hit against Tim’s swollen cock head. Wave after wave of my white semen splashed against his cock. I felt overwhelming and intense pleasure in my balls and cock. My cum covered his cock and was running down the sides of it. I saw blobs of my semen on his stomach, chest and on one of his nipples. I have never before experienced such incredible sexual pleasure.
As I watched my cock start to get limp, I knew that Tim’s cock needed to be serviced to climax. I climbed off him and once again sat on the side of the bed. I saw his cock twitching, totally covered with my warm creamy cum and looking delicious. I held his cock at the base and started to lick up the sides of his erect shaft, my cum was still warm. When I got to the tip of his cock head, I opened my mouth wide and took it deep into my mouth, sucking and swallowing my nice warm cream.
The feeling of Tim’s cock filling my mouth, and tasting my cum on it, mixed with his pre-cum, turned me on again, and I could feel my cock getting hard already. I started bobbing my head up and down his shaft, faster and faster. I was now wildly sucking it deep into my mouth. It was hitting the back of my throat. What I enjoyed most, was feeling his cock sliding passed my lips and rubbing along the length of my tongue with his velvet cock head, and then back out again.
Tim was almost panting with pleasure and I knew he was very close to climax. I increase my suction and kept bobbing my head up and down very quickly. I placed my hand around his balls and started to gently squeeze and massage them. I felt his cum being pulled from his balls and up the shaft, and prepared my mouth to receive his tasty cream. He started bucking his hips into my mouth and moaning loudly, even though he was still sound asleep. It shot into my mouth with great force and flooded it, forcing some of it to drip back out onto his cock. I was so hot with lust knowing I was sucking Tim’s cum off his stiff shaft along with my own and swallowing it all. I couldn’t get enough of into my mouth. Tim kept humping my mouth and I took his entire cock into my mouth up to his balls.
Finally, he stopped bucking and moaning, and I could feel his cock start to soften in my mouth. I sucked and milked it until it was dry. I made sure that I licked off all the cum that covered Tim’s stomach, chest and nipple. I was so turned on by what just happened, my cock was rock hard again and I needed to get relief. I got off the bed, picked up my jockey shorts and wrapped them around my cock and started to jerk off.
The fabric felt good rubbing along my shaft and touching my “pleasure spot.” With my other hand I pulled and massaged my balls and in a very short time, I shot another hot load into my shorts. It turned out to be one satisfying night. I cleaned myself up, placed Tim’s cock back inside his boxers and pulled up the sheet to where it was. I was totally drained and went to sleep, still tasting my cum mixed with Tim’s on my lips and tongue.
The next morning, at breakfast, Tim told me that he had another fantastic dream that gave him such wonderful pleasure. He wondered if the sleeping pills were causing the dreams. I told him that perhaps I should try taking the pills to see if I could have a hot dream like that. Tim just laughed.
*
Note: I am thinking of writing one more final chapter to this adventure. Please let me know what you think. I would appreciate any and all comments. David

Angela worked hard to empty her man’s balls. She did not think about the cold concrete floor upon which she kneeled, or her aching jaws that stretched over the veins and skin of the magnificent black cock. All she could think of was how to make him feel so good he would let her be his girl again.
Just a few weeks earlier , before she met Thomas, she was a southern white girl who married her high school sweetheart and settled into a middle class life with no children and a husband that drank too much. After her husband’s death she realized she had no livelihood, no money, and a future of working odd jobs at real estate offices. She had always been told how beautiful she was,
but at the age of forty two that would not do her much good. Now, as she sucked on the black cock of this handsome millionaire, she realized that this was the best she could hope for, and she better not blow it. She needed him desperately.
“Tighten your lips and stroke me faster with your mouth, bitch” Angela worked her head faster up and down the cock. She let the cock sink deep into her throat as she looked up at Thomas with her blue eyes. After a few minutes she let the cock pop out of her mouth long enough to slide down the side of the shaft with her tongue until she was able to take big long licks of the ball sack
before returning to stroking the cock with her lips.
“OK, I’m going to cum. Watch closely how I squeeze the cum out of my dick. You will be expected to do this in the future. I will cum on your face, and then you will thank me for the privilege and honor of having a man who has a load of cum for you.”
Angela listened carefully to everything he said, she wanted to follow every instruction. So when he pulled his cock from her mouth and jerked it off on her face, she watched carefully to how he stroked his cock as it spurted cum all over her face.
“Thank you Sir, thank you for your cum. Your cum is wonderful and I am so lucky you allow me to have it on my face” She gasped gratefully, as she continued to stroke his balls and ass with her hands.
Thick wads of cum decorated her face, as she continued to look at his cock and face, looking for
direction as to what she should do next. When he said “Lick my cock, balls and crotch clean” she
was eager to obey. She gave deep licks to his cock and balls, thinking how wonderful it would be if she could make him hard again. He lifted one leg up slightly so she could better lick his crotch.
“When I say you are done, you will quickly go to my study and retrieve my video camera and tripod and set it up in the dining room. Then get my thickest belt from the closet and bring it to me. I will be relaxing in the living room.” Angela listened as she concentrated on licking the bottom of his scrotum where it was most sensitive. Thomas looked down at her efforts, looking for ways she could improve her service to him, his cock beginning to thicken once more, until finally he said “You are done. Go do as I have told you. Do not wipe the cum off your face.”
Angela balanced on her red high heels, naked, and made her way to the study, trying to focus on his instructions. She knew he kept the camera tripod, and camera, in the corner of the room. She did not let herself be distracted by what he wanted the camera for, or the punishment she knew was coming. So far so good, she had made him cum, she had given him pleasure. Maybe he will forgive her, let her be his bitch again. Her punishment was justified. She is a stupid woman that needs to be taught a lesson. She will do anything Thomas wants.
She set the camera up in the dining room and went to get the belt, her tits jiggling as she hurried down the hall. When she brought the belt to him, as he lounged on the couch in his bathrobe, her breath was shallow with anticipation. She kneeled, gave him the belt, and, not being sure what to do next, she began to kiss his feet. The black skin feeling good against her soft white cheek, and plump red lips.
“Go lean over the dining room table. Stick your ass out for me. Keep your legs straight. Keep your arms straight so that your tits are available to your Master when he beats your ass.”
“Yes sir” said Angela and obediently assumed her position in the dining room with Thomas immediately following.
“Now, a white bitch needs to show the world how much she wants her black Master’s belt across her ass. I’m not letting anybody claim I’m doing something against your will. After all, this is still
Charleston, South Carolina. So the camera will document your sincere begging for each stroke of the belt. After each stroke I will throw the belt across the room. You will count the stroke, thank me for it, and go get the belt. Then you will kneel, give me the belt, and beg for the next stroke.
Do you understand bitch?” Thomas casually walked to the camera and switched it on as he spoke,
then returned to the naked Angela, her back arched, her tits swaying under her, obviously doing her best to present her ass the way Thomas wanted.
“Yes sir” She said, when almost immediately the belt came down across her round soft ass.
“Ahhh!” A cry leapt from Angela’s lips. Then she heard the belt as it landed on the floor across the room. She had never experienced that kind of pain before. Her mind could only think of the pain. She slumped against the table, she could feel the mark of the belt on her ass. It took her too long to recover. Thomas walked back to the camera and turned it off.
“Get out! If you can’t take your punishment like a big girl. If you don’t want to have a strong man who is willing to discipline you, I don’t have time for you. Get out!”
Angela was jolted out of her confusion.
“No Sir, No Master. I want you to belt whip me. Oh my God!” She fell to her knees and kissed his feet. “You are right. I need to be punished if I don’t please you.” She stumbled to the camera and turned it on. Then she retrieved the belt from the floor and kneeled before him.
“Please belt whip me and teach me how to be your good bitch. I want to do everything right for you. I want to obey you and make you feel good all the time. I am a stupid bitch and need to be belt whipped when I don’t please you. Please belt whip sir” She stood and leaned over the table
continuing to beg for the next stroke of the belt. Thomas idly mauled her tits as she stuck out her ass for him.
“Then we will start again, if you insist” And the belt came down with breathtaking force.
“Ahh! One, Sir. Thank you sir” She grunted as she stood and walked to the belt that was thrown across the room. Thomas watched her walk away and return, then kneel and beg for another stroke. In this way, Angela must participate in her own subservience, she must totally accept her life as his bitch and servant. Thomas will require this of her everyday, until she knows of no other way.
Again she leaned over the table and stuck her ass out. Again the belt came down.
“Ahh! Two sir, Thank you sir”
At the number ten, tears rolled down her cheeks, mixing with the cum and snot that involuntarily
erupted from her nose during.
“Te…Ten, sir, Thank you sir” She stuttered in misery. Thomas laid the belt across her burning ass.
“Put the belt away and clean yourself up. You may freshen your make up, but remain naked. Be quick about it and come to me in the living room when you are done. We will see if you have learned to obey.”
Its over! Is all Angela could think. She vowed to never displease Thomas again, never require him to discipline her with the belt. She quickly washed and made herself as pretty as possible, committed now to do everything he asked instantly, without question. So when she knelt before
him and was instructed to lick and tongue fuck his asshole she did not hesitate.
“I may often enjoy my balls being emptied after discipline” Thomas told Angela as she ministered to his tight shit hole”That is one of the many times you will practice your ABCs. Asshole, Balls and Cock worship. As you are doing now. I will expect you to beg for this privilege, and perform your service with gratitude. You must also learn to throat fuck properly, as well as take a hard fuck up your ass hole. All with gratitude. You may now, move up to my balls, bitch.”
“Thank you sir” Angela moaned as she lick at the big luscious balls. She listened to every word and only thought how her Master was kind enough to give her instruction. She was grateful, and so lucky, to be on her knees licking his balls.

If reading porn is illegal where you live or if you just dislike it try clicking the X in the upper right corner! All characters are above 18 and completely fictional. Resemblance to anyone you know irl exists in your head only.
I own the copyright to all my works. Disrespect that and my lawyer will do very horrible things to you while I watch…

~ * ~
Jennifer lived with her mother in a small house close to the center of the small town. They were not poor, but they never had a lot of money either. Jennifer’s mother worked two jobs and Jennifer herself helped out at a local shop a few hours every weekend to earn some extra cash.
Jenifer was rather avarage according to herself, she would never be a model, but she wasn’t ugly either. She had curves, but she was still slim. Her brown hair was usually in a pony tail and her clothes were mainly from second hand stores. After all, why buy new clothes when you can get three times as many at the same price?
To get some extra cash they rented one of the rooms out. The house was too big for just the two of them anyway. At the moment the person who rented it was a 29 year old man named Danyel who had just moved to town and hadn’t been able to find an affordable appartment yet. He was a bit introverted, but didn’t really seem shy and he was always very polite to Jennifer’s mother.
Jennifer had a slight crush on Danyel. He was handsome, but he was rarely ever home and had only spoken to her a few times. Sometimes she was sure he was hitting on her, but that was probably just her imagination. She had gotten into puberty late and since the first drops of blood stained her underwear she had proved to have a lot of imagination. (Like when she had been sure one of her old classmates had a crush on her. She’d been so sure she’d asked him out - only to discover he already had a girlfriend and didn’t even know Jennifer’s last name.)
~ * ~
One cold week in the middle of winter her mother was out of town to help aunt Marie who had just given birth to her fifth (or was it the sixth…?) child, so it was just her and Danyel in the house. The first day promised to be a lot of fun since Danyel decided she didn’t have enough fun and took her to the cinema to see a film she’d wanted to see for weeks, then proved he could cook by making them pizza when they got back home a few hours after dark.
While they ate they talked about the plot of the movie and Danyel made a reference to a relationship he had had in the past. Jennifer confessed she’d never been in a relationship.
“Pretty girl like you, Jenni? I bet you’ve got a whole group of boys waiting to ask you out.” Danyel chewed on his last piece of pizza while saying it.
“Nope. I got into puberty late, so everyone just thinks of me as the ‘girl with no boobs’… no one wants to date someone who looks like their younger sister.”
“But you do have boobs”, Danyel said, nodding towards her chest. They weren’t huge, but anyone who wasn’t legally blind could easily spot them.
“Well, yeah, I do now.”
“So, you’re still a virgin?”
Jennifer blushed. “Yeah, and I hate it. I just haven’t found anyone I want to have sex with. It’s not that I’m a wannabe slut or anything, I just want that first time to be over with so I can get on with everything without having to wonder what sex feels like.”
Danyel didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but she could tell he was thinking it all over. They finished the last of the pizza and started doing the dishes.
“You know, if you just want someone to give you a quick fuck I can do that.”
Jennifer cursed herself for saying anything in the first place. Danyel was ten years older than her! OK, so he was very good looking. OK, he didn’t seem like someone who’d hold it against her later. But, what if he had some kind of weird disease? She was on the pill so she didn’t worry about getting pregnant, but getting AIDS wouldn’t be too fun either.
“Uhm…” She thought it over. It really would be a good thing to have it over with. She’d been curious for way too long. “Are you clean?”
Danyel laughed. “Yeah. I got tested after my last relationship ended.” He turned and looked at her. “I’ve never been with a virgin though…”
~ * ~
They had decided to both shower and slip into something more comfy and then do it that night in his room. Like they had been talking about how to best make a cake - it had been odd talking that openly about it. Better to get it all sorted out first though. Jennifer worried she’d made a wrong decision, but still wasn’t going to back down.
The room was lit only by a small lamp on the bedside table giving away only a soft, dim light. That lamp had been bought at a garage sale a few years earlier. They had needed a lamp, but both Jennifer and her mother agreed it was too ugly to be in the living room.
While Jennifer had considered wearing something, she just couldn’t decide what item of clothing would be the perfect outfit and had decided to go nude rather than fret over what to wear. She didn’t usually walk around nude. Her mother insisted she had always wanted to be naked as a kid, but that was long since forgotten.
She got out of her pondering when Danyel told her to sit on the bed with her legs as wide apart as she could. She felt vulnerable sitting naked on his bed with her pussy exposed to his view. He came up to her, towering over her, and started to feel her bare breasts. He caressed the soft skin, pinched her nipples and kneaded her mounds like he was milking her.
He still had all his clothes on as he kneeled in front of her and caressed her inner thighs. Not saying a word he started to slowly explore the folds of her pussy with his fingers. He let one finger trail down to her asshole, circle it, then back and finally coming to rest on her clit. He used a little pressure and held it there. She looked at his hands as the other one started pushing two of its fingers into her tight hole. It was an odd feeling having a firm pressure on her clit while two large fingers entered her untouched hole. They didn’t venture deep, but instead of pulling them out he started going back in just as they were about to leave her. He continued for a while to slowly finger fuck her while the finger on her clit started moving in slow circles. She moaned.
“Such a dirty little girl. You’re all wet. I bet you’re dying to have that tight hole filled up,” Danyel said as his fingers left her pussy and he stood up. He quickly got rid of his clothes and told her to lie down with her feet in the air. It took Jennifer a while to do it because she was staring at his huge cock. She doubted it would fit. She shook herself out of it and got into the position. Danyel had taken a bottle of lube from a drawer and was now stroking his cock as Jennifer watched. The waiting made her nervous and she was again staring at it.
Finally he stood over her and put her legs over his shoulders, then positioned his fat cockhead at her virgin hole. She felt that it was dead center and hoped he’d go slow. He held still for a few seconds before he pushed in hard, all the way to the bottom in one determind stroke. Jennifer screamed. It felt like she had been split in two, and when he started pumping her like there was no tomorrow she felt how her pussy was getting very sore. His cock felt too big for her as it moved in a brutal pace inside her.
“Aaa, you’re too rough!” She was crying and screaming. She clawed at his chest and arms with her fingernails.
Danyel didn’t seem to care, or he did and he enjoyed it, he just kept fucking her hard. She felt rough hands on her breasts and every once in a while he would spank her ass like he was riding a horse and wanted it to run faster, or disciplining her for not being a good girl. She tried not to focus too much on the oversized cock pumping in and out of her sore pussy, but couldn’t help doing it anyway.
She was just starting to wonder if he’d ever stop when he did stop movig with his huge cock buried deep inside her. Her legs were removed from his shoulders and spread wider. Two fingers started rubbing her clit. His other hand was busy “milking” her breasts and pinching her nipples.
That felt incredible. Jennifer still felt like her pussy was on fire, but damn, he sure knew how to use his hands. She was writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat when he stopped and started fucking her hard again. Despite the pleasure she still felt very raw and bruised. He slammed his cock hard into her, going faster and faster until the pace had both panting for breath.
“Oh, god, pleeease stop, Danyel! It hurts too much!”
“Mmm. Not just yet. Your tight hole feels so good…”
When he slammed his cock deep into her tight pussy one last time and came, Jennifer hoped he wouldn’t want to go again. He gave her a few more slow strokes and then pulled out. Thuroughly fucked she sighed and relaxed against the bed.
Danyel wasn’t done though. He got down between her legs and started licking her sore pussy, eating her out and tasting his own juices mixed with hers and a hint of blood. He was hard again. Jennifer wasn’t sure if it was painful or pleasurable, but didn’t have the strength to care either. As Danyel was french kissing her clit she came and when he didn’t stop to give her time to rest, she came again. Just before she was about to come a third time he abruptly stopped and told her to get on her hands and knees.
“Please Danyel, I’m too sore to go again.” Jennifer was sure she was going to hurt for a week already, but still being light-headed from her orgasms she got into the position anyway. Two fingers were inserted in her pussy and moved around in there, but to her relief she soon felt them withdraw. The she felt them circling her asshole, pushing in slowly. She panicked and closed tight, but Danyel slapped her ass hard and she relaxed enough to let his fingers inside. He poured lube over her ass and pushed a third finger inside. Jennifer felt full, no way was he going to get more inside her than that.
“Oh yeah, such a tight ass.”
“Oh no, please! It’s not going to fit…”
The fingers were moving around inside her ass, stretching her tight channel. Opening her up as wide as he could he poured lube into her ass and pulled out his fingers. He grabbed her hips in a firm hold and pushed his cock inside her tight ass. Jennifer tried to push it out using her muscles, but it only seemed to make it go deeper. She felt like she had a baseball bat up her ass when he finally stopped pushing in.
“Fits like a glove…” Danyel moved slowly and only used small thrusts at first, but soon started fucking her hard. A hand came around her and she felt him rub her clit while he fucked her ass. Neither of them lasted very long this time and when Danyel pulled out Jennifer collapsed on his bed.
Danyel helped her get up and take a shower and then put her to bed… his bed. She was too tired to care and just fell asleep.
~ * ~
The next day was a real non-event. Danyel was off to work before Jennifer awoke and Jenni decided she was going to visit a friend to tell her about what happened.
That night however, Jennifer couldn’t sleep. She was too horny to relax enough and she couldn’t get herself off. She’d never masturbated before, so it wasn’t that odd. Frustrated, she got out of bed and took a cold shower. She needed something else to think about so she watched a horror film on TV.
The next morning she was still tired as she got out of bed, but she was also hungry as a wolf. Someone was cooking and it smelled like pancakes. She went to the kitchen just dressed in her t-shirt and underwear.
Danyel was dressed all in black and making enough pancakes to feed a small army.
“Mornin’ …”, Jannifer said and immediately yawned.
“Hi. Have some pancakes. I think I misread the amounts stated in the recipe…”
“Uh-huh. Thanks.”
Danyel eventually finished cooking and sat down opposite to her with a plate full of pancakes. “Do you feel bad about it?” he asked as he poured syrup all over them.
Jennifer’s brain didn’t immediately connect. She hadn’t slept enough and she needed food. Why would she feel bad about pancakes? “Oh, that. Uhm, no. I thought you meant the pancakes.”
“Want seconds?” Danyel looked mischievious as he said it, so Jennifer figured he didn’t just mean pancakes.
“You’re kinda rough”, Jennifer said remembering how sore she’d been all day yesterday. Her tone wasn’t scolding - now that she wasn’t busy feeling the sensations for the first time she got turned on thinking about it.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Not to mention that thing is huge.”
“Does that mean no?”
“I liked the way you used your tongue on me.”
“I can do that again if you get up on the table…”

Most people would call me eccentric. I’m a wealthy self made woman. I have always been a sexually orientated woman. Most of my close friends say “Heather you are so much like a guy, always thinking about sex.” I just smile and agree. There’s not much about sex that I don’t like. I even like some of the extreme. Well, okay more than some. I do have a very big voyeuristic streak in me; I think that is why I love the BDSM world. It offers me the ability to watch men and woman doing acts that would make your Grandmother role over in her grave.
Now many people are mistaken that I am a lesbian, let me set the record straight I’m not. I am bisexual I do enjoy the company of men. Men who know how to please me, I am picky though and the men that I do choose are generally submissive. Thinking, well most of my partners are submissive. I love men who are not afraid of their sexuality. I give as well as I receive and if a man can’t let a woman fuck his tight little ass well he’s not for me. There’s nothing wrong with watching two men pleasure each other either. I figure that if I can have fun with a woman why can’t they have fun with other men. Now my taste in men is bit on the wild side also. I love a sissy. I consider a sissy is a man that is very feminine and is generally dressed as a woman. Another name for a sissy is a cross dresser or even a transvestite. This is just a glimpse at who I am.
A question that has often been posed to me is. “Have you always been a Domme?” The answer to that is no. In the beginning I did a lot of experimentation. I lived in San Francisco during my early teens and through college. I guess that helps explain why my views on sex are so wide open. I was in the middle of it all. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be sitting next to a tv or a gay couple. I was intrigued and experimented. It is this early experimentation that has made me who I am today. I know what I like and I don’t care what people think. I have enough money that my private life is just that private. If I chose to have sex with a woman or a tv no one knows. I am very open about my sexuality and my confidence shows. I’ve always been athletic and sure of myself. I’ve been told by several people that I draw attention without trying, that I have a aura about me that just attracts people.
With my lifestyle I get to travel a lot, and see a many things. Most of the trips I go on I’m able to find a new play thing or I have a steady toy there. Unfortunately on this trip the prospects were slim at best. I was going to visit a friend whose husband had just passed away. I was going to the middle of suburbia Michigan. I now live in Los Angeles California where it’s sun and fun. The last thing I wanted to do was go to Michigan in the middle of the fall. All I could imagine was rain and cold, and I was right. Getting off the plane in Detroit it was doing just that raining, and yes it was cold. I met my friend at the baggage claim. We caught up and I took over the things that needed to be done to arrange the funeral and take care of the financial dump he left her in. The first two day’s went by as a blur I was so busy helping her and taking care of the lawyers and bill collectors. Her husband was a loving caring guy but a financial wiz he wasn’t.

At the wake all the family and friends showed up to give her their best wishes, that’s when I first saw her. Dressed in a simple black dress, she looked to be in her thirties. She had brown hair and a full figure. It wasn’t necessarily her looks that caught my attention but her demeanor. When she was away from her husband she was a confident woman but when he was near she became this meek thing. From across the room I watched. Catching my friend’s attention I asked “who’s that couple over there?” pointing at the lady and her husband. “That’s Chip and Barb Smith. Chip was a friend of Michael’s. I don’t know Barb that well, Chip is that sort you know what I mean?” Nodding my head I could see that. To Chip, Barb was a possession a thing. And he made it clear that it was his. Sipping my drink I pondered. Well little man let’s see what you are made of.

Once the party was over I had the caterers clean up and tucked Fran into bed. I went into the den and opened my laptop and set it up on Brad’s old desk. Logging onto my pc I started to search, collecting information. For a person like me the internet is a very dangerous tool. There’s not much that I can’t find and information is key that is what has made me so successful both in business and private. It didn’t take me long to find all I needed to know about this Chip. Nothing to do now but wait.

Weeks pass by and It’s time for me to return back home. I leave my friend in the best condition that I could. Inviting her out to California for a vacation whenever she wanted, back in my normal life days turned to months. I would periodically check up on Fran. During one of our conversations she mentioned that Chip and Barb had just gone through a very messy divorce that was all over the town. Being a small town word spread fast. It seems that the town thought Barb was nothing but a cheating slut; rumor had it that she was known to various men and women. Rumor had it that’s what had ended the marriage. After I hung up the phone I went to my computer and checked up on Chip and Barb. What Fran said was plastered all over the local newspapers. It didn’t take me long to cipher through it and get the true story. Chip did a very good job at slandering his wife. Showing the court that she was having sex with various men and women, to add to it he even posted dozens of photos of her on newsgroup forums under cheating wives. I quickly collected them all. All of them are of Barb in various acts of sex, with men, with women, but all with a common theme, Barb in the act. Once done I compiled all of the pictures and emailed them to a graphic wiz. Picking up the phone, “Jessica.. Hi it’s Heather. Listen I just sent a bunch of pictures to you can you take a look at them? Yeah she’s a hot one. What I’m not sure what I’m looking for, the husband slandered her and posted these on the net. Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too. Can you get back with me if you find anything? Thanks”

A couple of hours later the phone rings, “Hello.”

“You were right he was the one taking the pictures. He’s even in a couple of them himself with his face cut out. How convenient. I sent you the pictures back cleaned up and spots highlighted.”

“Thanks a lot Jess I owe you one.”

“Just let me into your play room and we’ll call it even.”
“Deal”
Turning on my pc I look at the pictures again. In each picture there’s Chip either in the camera or in a reflection. There he is on the television screen. Someone must have been filming it while he took pictures. Laughing to myself as I see him sticking his sorry excuse of a dick into her ass, no mistaking that body, and there’s that birth mark on his arm just above his wrist.

Closing the pictures I start to search, this time for Barb herself. Credit reports, charge cards, bank accounts. Sitting back smiling, she’s here in California. After some more in depth searching I’m able to track her habits. Hmm she goes to a local club almost every week. By her credit card transactions she’s a regular. Let the games begin.

* * * * *
dear Mistress,
as i have often said in the past You NEVER cease to amaze me. the prelude is a totally cool idea. setting the stage so to speak. i certainly will begin working on my part right away.
i can update You quickly about the shopping charge which unfortunately for me turned into a felony conviction. it happened in early 1999 near the end of my marriage. you have to understand that this was a very low point in my life. i was terribly depressed to say the least. chip had us head of heels in debt with HIS toys. our sex life had long since become a boring routine that brought me absolutely no satisfaction. and i was very confused as to how to deal with the situation. i really dont know what came over me. one day i was shopping and it just hit me, “well he wants problems i’ll give him problems.” i walked into a swank lit shop at the mall and treated myself to a shopping spree. i honestly don’t remember much about what i did. i do remember paying for a few small items. the next thing i really see clearly is the security guard stopping me as i began to leave the store. at any rate, in one of shopping bags he found $350 worth of merchandise which i hadn’t bothered to pay for. the really awful part was that i had almost $500 cash in my purse plus a couple of credit cards that would have more than covered the cost of what i took. by then i had come to my senses and begged the store management to let me pay them. but like a lot of stores they had implemented a “get tough on stealing” policy. i ended up spending the night in jail. in michigan shopping lifting over $100 is considered a felony. the bastard of a prosecutor we had at the time wouldn’t budge an inch in regards to a plea bargain. so the up shot is that i ended up pleading guilty. i was sentenced to 1 year of probation and $1000 in court costs and fines. my attorney, who didn’t do a god damn thing for me expect hold out the possibility of a plea deal for three months so he could charge more and more, cost me $1500. oh yea, i also had to pay the shop a $100 fee for some asinine legal thing. that was above and beyond returning the items i stole.
Mistress, i hope You can appreciate how hard this has been to share with You. it’s not something that is easy for me to share. i hope that You don’t think less of me because i have spend time in jail <18 hrs. or so>. at my arraignment the next day the judge did release me on a personal bond . i really do hope that You don’t mind that Your bitch is also a jailbird.
on a much happier note, i had wonderful news at work friday. i won’t be bouncing back and forth between shifts like i have been for the last four months or so. meaning that i will be home each weekday by about 8pm Your time. i really am looking forward to see much much more of You.
~love & kisses~
barb

I haven’t had a lot of luck with exes.
There was the one who took half my record collection with her.
The one who left me feeling bereft and empty for months before announcing, when the gap was irreconcilable, that she thought we’d done the wrong thing by splitting.
The one who copied her key to my flat before returning it and turned up in the middle of the night, unannounced.
The one who asked me to contact my mate from the rugby club and remind him he’d promised to return the brooch she’d left on his bedside table.
But Jane was special. Special in her ability to get back under my skin as easily as if we’d never parted.
Of course she could. It was as if she’d been different all along. That’s what I’d told myself, that she was different, the one. Clever, intelligent, razor sharp in her understanding of ideas and principles.
And she was attractive. No, not attractive. That’s an understatement. She didn’t ooze sex, but she had her style worked out to a T, and she knew it worked. She knew she wasn’t model thin, but neither was she Sophie Dahl, so she went for a continental look that looked backwards to the fifties, but was label savvy and up to the minute sharp. It wasn’t quite a pastiche of the fifties either; there were none of the jarring anachronisms that made that 1980s Style Council look so embarrassing.
I remember the first time I saw her. She was walking along the street, skirt and blouse, a pullover draped around her shoulders, D&G sunglasses, classic looking low heeled court shoes on her feet, her costume jewellery pointing up the fifties style references and making the real pearls around her neck look even more lustrous. Naturally olive skin too; Mediterranean looking even if the suggestion that her family was anything other than North Country gentry stock would make her seethe.
I was putting up a poster for my new business; second hand and antiquarian books and prints from a stall in the market hall. It was the kind of thing that would fascinate her I discovered; the highest word of praise in her vocabulary was ‘authentic’. Í got additional praise because I was trying to do it the decent way; not bursting old books for colour plates that could be framed on walls, just acquiring the material any way I could and bringing it back into circulation at a profit to me.
She was fascinated, she said, and followed me down to my stall where she cooed appreciatively over the stock, before buying an Orwell first edition and a modern copy of a Bewick engraving. She made great play of telling me she’d need the Orwell for her Open University course.
Over the next few weeks she became a regular visitor to the stall. She’d usually have a bag or basket with her containing the product of her other shopping; fresh coffee, over priced cheese, occasionally a cushion cover from the embroidery stall. I got to know something of her circumstances; divorced in her twenties, owning a semi rural guesthouse and obsessed with acquiring status via learning. She bought an eclectic collection of books, taking great care to make sure I knew which were for her studies and which to make guesthouse look classier. And I took her money and amused her the way a shopkeeper should, building a rapport with a profitable customer. Except she seemed genuinely flattered by the attention, and genuinely interested in me.
So we began a relationship.
Don’t get me wrong. I may sound jaundiced now, but by the time we started the relationship I was utterly taken by her. She was sexy and different, and this was the early nineties, when ostentation was still acceptable as a lifestyle choice. And I enjoyed the way her friends took me up as a new project, the bookseller trying to make their town a little more dignified in their eyes.
And we had great sex. Vigorous, enthusiastic, passionate sex. She’d decided that part of the problem with her marriage was her husband’s attitude to sex. I never found out what his attitude to sex was. Hers was pseudo scientific. She wanted to experiment. So we did. And if in retrospect it seems to me like she overdid the experimental protocols and controls, I maybe should have realised that she was showing off her learning. The sociology of science and the enlightenment were both on her curriculum.
It was less of an experiment for me than for her. I knew what I liked. If she wanted to find out about sex that involved power exchanges, or challenges, I was up for it. We found ways of doing it that didn’t challenge her book learned feminism head on. We found ways of having sex that made her feel that even when she was offering herself to be used or spanked she was in charge. Her notes specifying what she envisaged were an art form in themselves. She wrote them poetically, in a lyrical style that betrayed a strong knowledge of simile and knowledge, and a lack of understanding about how much imagery was enough. That was understandable though one night, drunk, she admitted that she masturbated while writing them, sitting on a leather covered piano stool at the dressing table in her bedroom. Looking back, I know now that I’ll never know if the anticipation was greater than the experience for her. There’s a line from a song by Bob Seger: ‘wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then’. But if I had known, would I have done anything differently? Probably not.
I’d be a liar if I pretended the relationship was perfect. Spontaneity was not her strong point. She didn’t relish the idea that sex might happen without warning. She didn’t understand that part of being a lover was about fitting herself to my needs too; my need for sex to be a surprise, an adventure and a game.
That wouldn’t have been fatal to our relationship. Not if it hadn’t been a signifier of her approach to life. She found it hard to take chances, to understand that my job might involve driving thirty miles to a house sale or standing quietly at the side of a provincial saleroom trying hard not to reveal quite which book in a mixed lot had caught my attention.
We split acrimoniously. She took my being different to her as a reproach, not as an invitation to compromise. So we went our separate ways, as much as you can when you live in a small town and share a circle of friends. Our paths were bound to cross again.
It was two weeks before Christmas that our paths significantly crossed. It was at a party in a house up on Church Street, just round the corner from my new flat in Hallgarth Street. I’d moved after we split, to a larger flat that reflected the fact that even if my private life was in tatters the business was going from strength to strength. I was standing in the study, trying not to look like I was pricing the books on the shelves. Jane was looking good in a teal green dress, off the shoulder, sleeveless, revealing her muscular and handsome shoulders and her cleavage. She was wearing her hair loose and full around her shoulders. And she was smiling at me as if I was the only person in her world.
She was not drunk. I knew what she was like when she was drunk, and there was nothing vindictive or sharp tongued about her manner. Bu there was something different about her. She was more light hearted than I remembered, but more intense. Forgive me, but I thought that, given that she wasn’t drunk, she might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
It took a little while to realise that we were playing a game. Maybe the fact that I was more vulnerable than I expected meant my defences were down. The penny dropped eventually. It was more a process of accretion than elimination. I thought she was trying to wound at times, and at others that she was trying to seduce.
Examples? We’d squabbled more than once about my fetish for piercings. She’d remained unpierced when we’d been together. So did she need to tell me now that she had a silver barbell through her right nipple? Or, given that I desire exhibitionism in a woman, that she was naked under her dress, save only for stockings? Did she need to tell me that she’d decided to try bisexuality, and was in a relationship with a woman, when she’d always denied to me that she had any such inclinations?
She wasn’t trying to wound. She was trying to seduce. But not because she was drunk, or cracking up. She smiled as she pointed out her girlfriend, blonde haired, a mass of curls atop her head so she resembled a dandelion, slender in trousers and an ivory coloured blouse, maybe ten years Jane’s senior, standing in the kitchen at the heart of a circle of women. Jane smiled.
“I’ve taught her the game you taught me. She writes me notes about her fantasies. Long notes, essays really, with footnotes and reading lists.”
I realised where I knew the blonde from. She taught in the German department at the university. I’d sold her an early edition of Goethe. Jane was talking again, light hearted.
“She writes more notes than we can ever act out. So I collect them, and think of them, and leave her the one I’ve chosen on her pillow on any given night. The more she’s pleased me, the more extreme the fantasy I’ll act out for her.” The couple having a hushed domestic row across the study from us wouldn’t have been able to see Jane’s right thumb, shadowed by her wine glass, stroking at her nipple through her dress, but I found it hard to tear my eyes away.
“Last week she wrote me an essay for my OU course. So she got her dream of being pissed on in the bath. Tonight I found, in her purse, the receipt for the ring she’s bought me for Christmas. A wedding ring, antique style, the kind I’ve wanted ever since Paul.” Her thumb was stroking at her nipple again.
“So tonight she gets her dream come true. She’ll hate herself tomorrow, but tonight she’ll do what she wrote one night when I’d denied her for three days, three days when I wouldn’t even let her see me naked. The more I deny her the further it seems she’ll go, and I want to make her go as far as I can. So tonight she’ll get to dildo herself while she’s licking a man’s come out of me. Want to be the man Tim?”
Was I disturbed by the cruelty in Jane’s tone? No. Was I disturbed by the precision of her planning? No. We didn’t negotiate. Not exactly. We didn’t need to. I was taken in completely. It was just a matter of getting the plans clear. She would come to my flat. We would have sex. I could have the use of her, so long as she was wet and had my come inside her when Barbara came to get her. I offered to let them use my spare bedroom, but that would interfere in the fantasy. Barbara would wait for her phone call, then come and collect Jane from my flat. I asked about the kind of sex we would have. The fact that I had liked to dominate Jane would not interfere in their fantasy; it was part of it.
I’ve already admitted my defences were down. So I went along with it. Completely.
We walked around the corner to my flat, not really caring if any of our friends gossiped about our departure. A few strides outside of their door she took my hand, and it was almost like one of our first dates.
It’s an odd experience, watching someone else act out their fantasy. You know there’s a script in their heads, but without dialogue or a script to follow it’s a mime performance. Her knee length coat went on the rack in my hall; the dress followed with an economy of movement that I remembered with a keen sense of loss.
I realised, too, that I was seeing her body for the first time. It had changed. There was a muscle tone to her stomach that suggested regular visits to the gym. On her left hip, just below the joint, were two Chinese characters, one above the other. Her pubic hair, sometimes shaven, sometimes untrimmed when we had been together, was a neat, tightly clipped delta. And there was that barbell through her nipple, pushing the nipple forward, making it more prominent.
Jane was unabashed by my inspection of her. Did I feel sad that she was willing to do these things for her new lover’s pleasure, but wouldn’t do them when she was my lover alone? Not then. Later, maybe, even now as I write this, definitely, But not at the time.
At the time I felt as if I was alienated from the experience, acting a role exactly as she was. Where once I would have sought to cajole her or tempt her into a submissive role, now I took it as a fact and spoke coldly to her, commanding her to enter the living room, slapping her backside as she walked in front of me for no other reason than because I could.
Was I ass cruel to her as I could have been? No. Part of me was replaying the fantasies I’d had when I was with her, fantasies she knew about, of my beating her till she cried in pain, inflicting pain remorselessly while fucking and masturbating her. She knew about those fantasies, and she’d incorporated them in some of her fantasies. I had her sit on my sofa, her heels on the cushions so that her knees were raised and parted, her pussy open to my gaze until she did as she was told and started to finger her clit. As she did so I wondered if she was remembering those fantasies, if she feared that the riding crop I’d described to her in careful detail was waiting for her. Was that was making her so aroused that, within minutes, she was close to orgasm, masturbating herself in the way I remembered, thumbnail scratching at her clit as her fingers rubbed over her pussy lips.
It was possible that she was thinking about those fantasies. She’d played along with them before, and enjoyed it. Our first Christmas together had as its highlight her being bent over a bolster on the bed, her hands tied behind her back, a dildo buried in her pussy as I spanked her. She’d enclosed the note describing that in her Christmas card to me, and we’d made it happen. Watching her stroke herself I asked her if she remembered that occasion. Her answer was to come, gasping, biting at the fingers of her free hand as if to stifle the noise.
And yet I didn’t want to push the boundaries of that fantasy. Not now, not in those circumstances. I explained it to her as I stripped, facing her, gesturing at her to resume her self-stimulation.
“It’s not like I don’t want to whip you. It’s not like I wouldn’t love to make you beg me to put the whip down and fuck you any way I want. It’s not like I don’t know that maybe that was in your mind when you chose me to make your girlfriend’s fantasy come true. But I want you to go back to her and tell her it wasn’t about whips, or pain, or being tied. I want you to go back to her and tell her it was about my cock, and about you coming as you suck it. I want you to tell her that even as you came with my cock in you the idea of taking it up your arse was in your mind.”
Her answer? She extended her tongue to lick the end of my erection as it approached her mouth, and used her free hand to cup my balls as I entered her lips. Standing astride her I pulled at her nipples, pinching and stretching them, enjoying the difference between the smaller, unpierced nipple and the barbell enhanced left one.
“Is she going to make you have more piercings Jane? Does she want to make your body hers? Will she hate the fact that she can do what she likes to you but she hasn’t got a cock, the one thing you crave?” She took her hand away from her pussy to hold my cock as she took it out of her mouth to answer; I slapped her wrist and told her to carry on wanking. She hated the word, hated the bluntness, but she did as she was told. I moved forward a little so she could lick the underside off my cock, alternating licks with her attempts to answer the questions.
“She hates it and loves it. She hates porn and stuff, but she loves showing me off. She has women friends round the house and makes me strip off for them. She wants to take me to a nudist beach so she can make me walk round naked in front of everybody. It’s like I’m everything a woman shouldn’t be in her world, and she can’t get enough of me.”
She leant forward and rested her head against my thigh as she came again. Her tongue licked at my thigh, but then it was as if she realised where she was, and what she was doing. She shuddered and tried to pull away from me. I slapped her breasts, once on each, then ordered her to stand. And yes, I enjoyed that reaction.
“Time for the endgame Jane. Time to phone Barbara and tell her that you’ve loved making yourself come as you suck my cock. Time to tell her that you’re about to kneel on the floor, arse in the air, open to me, waiting for my cock to make you come again before I spunk in you.”
And she did. She took my cordless phone, dialled a number form memory, and told Barbara exactly what I’d said. Then she knelt, between the coffee table and the sofa, her head resting on her forearms. And I knelt behind her, and remembered as I experienced it again the elasticity and muscularity of her pussy, pressing my way inside her as she held her breath. And then I fucked her, the way I’d fucked her when she was at her least inhibited, one hand stroking at her clit, the thumb of the other hand breaching the ring of her anus.
Barbara’s timing was poor, or excellent; depends on your taste I suppose. The doorbell rang just after Jane’s first orgasm, when we’d both paused with my cock lodged inside her. I bent forward and put my mouth next to her ear.
“She’s waiting by the door. She knows you’re here, but she might think we’re already finished. Make plenty of noise Jane. Let her know you’re loving being fucked.”
And with that I started pumping at her, hard, deep, long strokes, holding onto her hair as if it were reins. She gave into the feeling, and started to shout, harsh single word exclamations in time with my groin slapping into her backside.
I came too soon for my taste. I’d like to kind myself that I could have stopped