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Miracle Ranch

May 14, 2025 at 9:42 am · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, breeding, erotica, fantasy, fiction, sex, writing

The girl in the next stall was sobbing piteously. It grated on my ears. What did she have to cry about? She’d only just gotten here.

I shifted in my restraints. It’s not like the stalls were particularly uncomfortable. There was hay on the floor, and padding in all the right places. I was bent over, with my midsection and wrists locked into a wooden stocks, a spreader bar at my ankles keeping my legs wide apart. The stocks bore most of my weight. My tits hung down like a pair of udders. Which, I suppose, is exactly what they were, because all day long they were connected to a milking machine that constantly sucked and tugged at them. My poor nipples were distended, red and angry, and so very sensitive that at night, sometimes, I could orgasm just by playing with them. That, of course, might earn me a beating if I were caught. Or it might get my pussy licked. It all depended on the overseer.

There was a muffled shout, a smack-crack, and a stifled scream, suddenly cut off. Then the sobbing turned into a muted sniffling. The overseers don’t like crying. It disturbs the studs.

We were in the stalls, I don’t know, 8, 10, 12 hours a day; hooked up to the milking machines, and available for the studs to use. All that suction on my breasts, all day every day, and not one drop of milk. Worse yet, though I got fucked on a fairly regular basis, I still hadn’t gotten pregnant.

I’d been in the barn for three months, more or less. Hard to say exactly, one loses track of days. But I’d had my bleeding time twice since I’d been here, and I could tell from the slight bloating and cramping inside my gut that it was coming on again.

Girls don’t last more than three months here. I don’t know what happens to them. They get hauled away, often times sobbing and fighting, and they are never heard from again. I don’t want to find out. But I may not have any choice.

The sound of the milking machine is hypnotic. It would put me to sleep, but the constant tugging at my nipples keeps me aroused. I think I can still hear the girl next door softly crying, but I can tune it out.

I just wish somebody would come and fuck me! Oh My God. Aside from the very real problem of needing to get pregnant ASAP, my cunt really needs some cock in it, in a bad way! It’s been a few days, and the last guy was… disappointing. He felt like he was on the small side, and he sure didn’t last very long! It barely even started before he was finished. Sometimes a mediocre fuck is worse than not getting fucked at all.

The slave boy was coming through with his brush, slapping a mix of lube and hormones onto the arrayed cunts. The hormones were supposed to make us more fertile, the lube… well, obviously it kept us ready for any passing stud. The boy was a eunuch, he had no interest in our cunts at all. When he came to my stall, the slap of the wet brush against my ravenous pussy made my clit swell and ache. I’d heard the boy could be bribed, and that a little concerted action from that brush of his could make a girl come. I believed that!

But it surely wasn’t happening today. One wet slap across my vulva, and he was on to the next stall. Lingering could earn him a beating; get done early and he could sneak in a short nap or a cigarette.

Sometimes I fall asleep in the stalls. Sometimes I don’t even realize when I fall asleep. I’ve woken up before to find some stud fucking my juiced-up cunt. It’s not the worst way to wake up!

I’m not sure if I fell asleep, but I suddenly became aware of someone in the stall with me. The hay rustled behind me under someone’s feet. There was a sharp slap across my ass, then another on the opposite cheek, which sent shivers of anticipation coursing through my body and making my wet pussy drool even more.

They came around the front. This was not unheard of at all. Sometimes the studs either wanted or needed some oral action before they fucked you. But woe to the poor girl who made a stud come with her mouth! At least woe to her if she got caught…

He didn’t look like a typical stud. He was slightly built, slender and somehow feminine. Most of the studs wore t-shirts or went topless, and wore sweat pants, or baggy shorts for easy access. This one was nicely dressed, all black: pants and a button-down shirt. I checked out the prominent bulge in the front of his pants as he looked me over with a sardonic sneer on his angular face.

He grabbed me by the lips, pinching my face, forcing me to look up at him.

“Nice udders,” he sneered. His voice was soft and poisonous. “Look at those big teats, and not one drop of milk. Pity. Such a pretty young thing, and if she don’t get productive fast, it’s the boneyards for sure.”

The stud started to unbutton his trousers. He pulled out his cock, and I gasped aloud: it was huge. It was the biggest I had ever seen, and over the last couple months, I had seen a lot of big dicks. It was hard, black, and shiny. It was also not attached to him. The cock, exquisitely detailed, appeared to have been carved from some dark wood. It was heavily veined, with a flat base and a large bulbous head, and it glistened with oil.

“He” was really a “She”. She had pulled down her pants, and she had a curly brown triangle of pubic hair above plump, meaty lips. She took out a little brass key and inserted it in the side of the wooden cock, and started winding up the clockwork motor inside.

“Cow,” she said. “Make me come with your mouth, and I’ll get the highest sperm count stud in this barn to fuck your cunt, this very afternoon. If you don’t get me off, it’s the boneyards for you, slut.”

She positioned the cock so it was jutting out of her crotch, held loosely in place by the opening of her pants. I could smell her excitement. The thing was fucking huge, far bigger than any cock I’d encountered yet. It was like the size of my forearm. The mechanism inside started to whir and click.

“What are you waiting for, cow? A written invitation? Open wide…”

I obeyed, and she immediately jammed the buzzing wooden cock into my open mouth. I choked and gagged, trying to pull back, but was prevented by the stocks holding my neck and wrists in place. She pulled the cock out and slapped me across the face, hard.

She laughed out loud. I was pretty sure she’d split my lip. “You’ll have to do better than that, Slut. Now suck my dick like you mean it!”

This time when I obediently opened my mouth, she shoved it straight down my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I panicked, thrashing against my restraints, which seemed to amuse her no end. She grabbed me by the hair and used my head as leverage, grinding her pussy and clit against the buzzing base of the cock buried in my mouth. I tried to scream, but no sound could get out. I flailed and retched impotently as she gloated “Oh fuck yes, fuck, suck it you fucking little slut…”

I think I passed out a little. The next thing I knew, the wooden cock had been removed from my mouth and I could breath again, and I was shaking, dry-heaving, miserable in my stocks as she smirked down at me.

“What a good little cocksucker you are!” I spat out a mouthful of bile, mixed with blood. My lip had been split wide open. “You made me come so good, you horny little cow! I’m definitely going to use you again! Oh, the fun games we’ll play…! But first, we need to get you laid. Don’t go anywhere now!”

She patted me on the head, like a pet dog, and disappeared out of my line of sight, leaving me to my misery. But not for long.

I heard someone enter the stall behind me. He came around to the front. It was Rupert, one of the studs. I don’t think he’d ever fucked me before. He was short, greasy, with stringy black hair and a bit of a belly. He wore nothing but cut-off sweat pants, tied with a piece of string.

“I hear you suck cock real good,” he said, and without waiting for a response, pulled down his sweat pants, exposing a thick soft cock and fat pair of balls. I painfully opened my mouth, and he fed me his sweaty dick, which I sucked like a thick noodle between my bruised and busted lips. This, at least, was a real, normal cock, and I knew what to do with it.

He swelled, growing hard and big for me. I do take pride in my work! He was large and thick, but not outrageous. Even if I hadn’t been lubed up by the slave boy, my cunt was plenty wet for him.

He pulled his erection out of my mouth, and it bobbed in front of me, glistening wetly with my saliva. I felt a rush of pride and excitement. “I did that!”

It was a nice cock too, now that it was fully erect: big and thick, but not too big; nicely shaped with a slight upward curve and a swollen plum-shaped crown. That thing was going to feel so good inside my hungry pussy!

Of course he didn’t say ‘Thank you’ or anything, or even acknowledge the work I’d done with my sore mouth; that wasn’t his style. He just walked around behind me, around the stocks and outside of my field of vision.

I felt his hands caressing my buttocks, and I purred with horny anticipation, wiggling my rear and straining against the spreader bar to open my legs even wider.

The head of his cock brushed up against my cunt, nudging in between my drooling, ravenous labia, and I moaned out loud. Then it was withdrawn.

He spread my butt cheeks, and I arched my back, inviting him to enter me already.

He nudged forward, and I felt pressure in a place I wasn’t expecting it at all. The head of his cock was pushing up against my anus, pressing hard and harder, insistently trying to enter my asshole.

“No!” I gasped out loud. “No, no not there!”

The pressure on my backside did not let up. He grabbed a fistful of my hair. “What was that? What did you say?”

The word “no” was rarely heard in the barn, and never without consequences. I shut my mouth.

It wasn’t the act itself I was afraid of. I’d had studs stick a finger in my ass before, when they were fucking me, and honestly it felt kind of nice. In other circumstances, I would have been quite willing to give it a go. But I needed, desperately needed, to get pregnant. And this wasn’t going to get me knocked up, no way, no how.

Rupert had a handful of my hair, and he kept pulling as he rudely shoved his dick inside me. Little by little, he slipped inside. The sensation was decidedly odd. It wasn’t painful, not exactly, but it felt… precarious. I wasn’t sure I could take the whole thing, but I knew I had no choice in the matter.

I blew a long slow breath out, willing myself to relax. Rupert grunted, and shoved himself roughly forward. I felt something let go and he slid past the tight ring of muscle, entering me.

I was stretched almost to the breaking point. I needed just a moment to get used to the intrusion, but Rupert just started thrusting away. The sensation was almost more than I could stand. I realized that I was keening wordlessly out loud.

As the initial shock of penetration faded, I slowly realized that this was, if not exactly pleasurable, exceedingly intense and stimulating. If Rupert had just reached down and slipped one finger into my cunt, stroked my clit (some of the studs would do that for you sometimes), I would have come, and come hard while he butt-fucked me. But Rupert wasn’t that type.

He pounded my ass, grunting with each thrust, until he came. Finally, he buried himself all the way in my ass, and I felt his cock twitch inside me. He made a guttaral noise, like a horse whinnying, and he relaxed his grip on my hair. He pulled out, leaving my asshole twitching, tender, and bewildered.

Rupert slapped my hard across each cheek, leaving red hand prints, I’m sure, and said something I couldn’t quite make out, “That’ll …. stupid cow”, followed by a throaty chuckle. Then I was alone again, his sperm leaking out of my anus and dribbling useless onto the hay below.

God damn it! What a fucking waste.

Then, without any warning, I felt another pair of hands on my hips. I hadn’t even heard him enter the stall. Suddenly another cock was probing my vagina, entering me. This one was quite a bit bigger, and despite my copious wetness, it took some maneuvering. I was fucked, hard, fast, and deep, stretching my pussy and filling me to overflowing with fresh semen. And after that, another. And another. And another. My cunt was raw and tender, my clit bulged out like a tiny cock, come ran down my thighs in thick sticky rivers. And still they came. I’m pretty sure there weren’t that many studs in the barn; either some of them were doing double duty, or some of the hired help and stable hands were joining in the fun. It didn’t matter: I loved it.

One of them jammed at least one, probably more, fingers up my poor, tender, freshly fucked asshole. I howled.

Another stud graciously reached around, rubbing my sensitive clit while he fucked my overstimulated pussy, and I immediately came, waves of grateful bliss as the orgasm rocking through my body, setting him off so he came along with me, riding the contractions of my climax as my pussy milked his cock.

There were more after that. I really have no idea how many. It was a good thing I was locked into the stocks, because I would have collapsed long before they were done. As it was, I managed to stay conscious for them all, bleating like a whore, taking each and every cock and doing my best to give it all the pleasure I could mete out.

Finally there were no more. I was panting, drooling, stupidly exhausted. She came up to me, the woman in black. She slipped two fingers into my mouth, past my swollen, busted lip; and I sucked them like a little cock. They tasted like pussy.

“Well,” she said. “If you ain’t knocked up by now, I’ll eat my hat!” she withdrew her fingers, and plunged them back down her pants. “We are going to have so much fun together!” she looked at me appraisingly. “Well, at least I am going to have a lot of fun, I’m not so sure about you,” she said. She pulled her fingers out of her pants, sticky with her secretions, and blew me a little kiss. “See you soon.”

I wept, with exhaustion and relief. I wept silently, big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, I knew better than to make noise crying. I wasn’t sad, I was just emotionally carpet-bombed. If my hands had been free, I would have rubbed myself to one orgasm after another, but as it was all I could do was wait. My teats hung down, tender and swollen, like over-ripe fruit on a tree, as the milking machine droned its long monotonous song.

Slowly at first, first from the left one, and then from the right, white fluid started to dribble out of my nipples. At first it was only a few drops, and then it became a steady stream, filling the vacuum lines and splashing down into the glass jug below, steadily filling up the container with sweet, white, life-giving milk.

END

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This Never Happened Before

January 21, 2025 at 8:57 am · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, erotica, fiction, non-binary, oral sex, sex, writing

You might think that someone like me doesn’t get horny.

But then you would be wrong. When I’m in that kind of a mood (and to be perfectly honest I’m in that kind of a mood much more often than I’m not), I’m hornier than an 18-year old guy. Or a 40-year old housewife. Or really anything in-between.

I’ve tried masturbation. I still do now and then. I even bought one of those industrial-strength plug-in vibrators that some ladies swear by. It felt kind of nice, I guess, but it didn’t take me anywhere and eventually it made my crotch go numb, so it lives on the shelf in my closet gathering dust. Honestly a small glass plug up my butt combined with an electric toothbrush squeezed between my thighs feels much nicer. But it still doesn’t really take me anywhere.

So when I woke up that particular morning it wasn’t incredibly surprising to find that I was in that particular mood, in an urgent, distracting, and borderline painful way. I drank my coffee and watched porn on the internet which, of course, didn’t alleviate the situation at all. Rather, it made it worse.

I like pretty much all kinds of porn, but my favorite is watching trans people fuck.

I looked at the clock, and realized that if I was going to make to work on time I’d better hustle, and then I realized that I really didn’t feel like going to work at all. I hardly ever call in sick, and I have a bunch of PTO saved up, and nothing particular was on the radar that day anyway, so why the fuck not?

I texted my boss.

—hey Ahava, I need to take a personal day today, is that ok?

She got right back to me.

—Ok, no worries. Could you do me one favor tho?

—Sure.

—I’m way behind on employee evals. Could we do yours really quick this morning, just by Zoom?

—No prob.

Ahava is a great boss. And cute as hell too. I’ve had a little crush on her, like forever.

While I waited for Ahava to send me the meeting link, I opened the app (you know, that app..), and started browsing. As always, guys outnumbered women by at least five to one, but that was ok because this particular morning I was most definitely in the mood for some dick.

The pickings were slim, but when are they not? An automatic pass on any dude wearing a MAGA hat, or carrying a gun (seriously dudes, you think a picture of yourself packing heat on a dating app is going to get you laid??). And the empty profiles and the pictures of dudes with fish, and the guys who look really old but say they’re young, and the guys who look really young but say they’re older, and they guys who’s photos are obviously fake, and the ones who look too much like serial killers…… holy cats, a person could get blisters swiping left so much!

The link for the meeting came through and I clicked on it, and there was Ahava, sitting behind her desk at the office, looking absolutely adorable. I would totally want to fuck her if she wasn’t my boss.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m so far behind this year it’s embarrassing. But anyway. You’re a rock star, Delsha. Nothing to worry about. I gave you E’s and S’s on everything. No criticisms, you’re great, I’m just glad to have you on the team.”

“I’m glad to be on the team too,” I said. “You’re an awesome boss.”

“Cool, so if you could just sign the eval sheet and email it back to me, we’re all set. Listen, Delsha… I was wondering if you’d like to hang out sometime, outside of work. You know, hang out…? Maybe tonight?”

Holy fuck, she was blushing.

Ahava was wearing a stretchy black t-shirt, and right now, as she leaned over toward the camera, she was showing off a positively immodest amount of cleavage. There are (at least) two things that I’m a total sucker for in a woman: big tits, and lush curly hair. And Ahava has both those things. And then some!

Banging your boss is one of those things the self-help books are absolutely unanimous about: it’s a really terrible idea.

“I can’t tonight,” I lied blithely. “But yeah, that sounds fun. Sometime we should hang out. Maybe with some of the people from the team, we could get drinks after work some time.”

“That would be great,” Ahava said, sounding both slightly relieved and a little deflated. “Anyway, enjoy your day off! See you tomorrow!”

Well, shit. Maybe I should have taken her up on it.

I went back to scrolling, and I did manage to find one guy who was reasonably cute and local, didn’t give me Russian troll or murderer vibes, and responded to my message within a couple minutes. We agreed to meet up at the Crazy Lady coffee shop in thirty minutes. That left me just time to shower and get dressed.

It’s a funny thing: when I present as female, I love sucking cock. I mean, I love cock, and I love sucking cock at all times, but when I’m dressed up all femme, I instantly crave a hard dick in my mouth. Like my blood sugar is gonna crash if I don’t immediately eat a penis or two. I absolutely cannot get enough. Similarly, when I’m in the mood to get fucked up the ass, I always present as a man. If I want to eat pussy, I can go either way. It’s interesting how strongly perceptions flavor experience.

Sometimes I feel bad for people who only have one gender to play with. They’re missing out.

So anyway, I put on some pretty lace panties (not for him, for me!), a cute little sundress with leggings that I could tuck my tail into, and just enough makeup to look like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed. I fluffed my hair, brushed my teeth, grabbed my Planned Parenthood scarf, and a coat, and headed over to the Crazy Lady.

Oh yeah, the tail. I was born with a tail. It’s about fourteen inches long, smooth and hairless, and it mostly just gets in the way. When I’m really turned on it sort of curls up on itself and gets super sensitive to touch, and not really in a pleasant way. That’s just one reason I generally try to keep my pants on during these encounters.

Down at the Crazy Lady, I got myself a big fat mocha, sat down on a stool by the window, and waited. And waited, and waited. Until it became clear that I had been stood up.

Fortunately, however, all was not lost. While I was waiting for Mr. Tardypants, I noticed a skinny young dude sitting at a booth all by himself, typing into a laptop. He had noticed me right back, and we had made eye contact, and my horny-o-meter had climbed up a couple of notches, straight into the red. When it became clear that my dick date was going to be a no-show, I flashed the guy a sweet little smile. He responded by smiling back and closing his laptop. I escalated by going over to his table and sitting down next to him.

I didn’t ask his name, and he didn’t ask mine. I certainly didn’t ask his age, although I’m pretty sure he was at least a decade younger than me, probably fresh out of college from the looks of him. And the looks of him were pretty darn nice: skinny, well-groomed, neither muscle-bound nor flabby. And he had nice eyes. And nice hands. I wondered what other nice things he had. I intended to find out.

The conversation was mercifully brief, and not too awkward, and culminated in him letting slip the fact that his apartment was just around the corner. That was all I needed to hear. We swept out of the Crazy Lady out onto the sidewalk, where the wind played flirtatiously with my skirt, and my libido went from a smoldering fired to a raging inferno, a fire that was going to need a freaking pumper truck and hose company to put out.

His place really was quite literally just around the corner. We held hands on the way over there, which felt really nice. He was nervous, I could tell, and so was I. But I felt nervous in a really fun, excited way, like being on line for your favorite roller-coaster. Inside my leggings, my tail was doing its damnedest to curl up into a tight little spiral.

Up five flights of stairs. His apartment was cluttered but not terribly messy and didn’t stink of cat litter or cigarette smoke, so that was fine. I had the distinct impression that he did not live here alone (girlfriend? Quite likely.), but I didn’t see anything I wasn’t meant to see, and I certainly didn’t ask any awkward questions.

Once the door closed behind us, I put my arms around his neck, pulled him close to me, and kissed him hard, full on the lips, tongue and everything. My tail had popped out of my tights, and was curled up excitedly under my dress, so when he reached around and grabbed my ass, he didn’t notice anything unusual. And his hands on my ass felt great! Everything felt great, especially his hard cock straining through his pants, rubbing against my crotch.

We kissed a little more (he was very good at it, I am pleased to report) and I let my hands go exploring. I squeezed his sexy little buns, and I rubbed his erect cock through his pants, and then my hands found their way up inside his shirt, and I discovered his hard little nipples, and I got to enjoy pinching and lightly twisting and tugging on them. It was time for that damn shirt to come off, and he obliged me by pulling it right up over his head.

I love guy nipples, at least as much as I like girl’s tits. I think they’re incredibly sexy, and I wish I had a pair. If I can’t have breasts, I’d like to at least have a couple of nipples like Hershey Kisses that I could get pierced and hang thick gold rings from. But nah, my chest is as flat and featureless as a map of North Dakota.

There was a window seat, overlooking the street below, and that is where I herded him over to. It was a sunny day and the curtains were wide open, and anyone who happened to be looking could have seen us. Not that I thought anybody was actually looking, but the idea was exciting.

It took only a minimum of effort to tug down his pants. He was wearing boxer-briefs, black ones, and the head of his dick was peeking out over the waistband. Adorable! His underpants came right off too, and I was treated to a magnificent face-full of grade-A prime dick!

I mentioned that I like dick? Kind of a lot. All shapes and sizes, as they say. But this one was about the nicest I’d ever laid eyes on. It was big and thick, any bigger and it wouldn’t have fit easily into my mouth; circumcised with a big purple mushroom-shaped head. The shaft had a slight arch to it, as if it was so eager for action it couldn’t stand to just be straight, and it was so hard I swear it was quivering. Neatly trimmed pubic hair, and a plump pair of balls to go with it. I knew what I was having for lunch!

He leaned back and let me do my thing. Which was just fine by me. If he’d wanted to explore under my sundress, I most certainly let would have let him, but it might have led to some awkward questions. It’s happened before.

In any event, I took my time, savoring my prize, licking up and down the underside of the shaft, tracing his length and girl with my fingertips, and nuzzling playfully at his testicles. I even explored the tender flesh between his butt cheeks with the tip of my tongue, angling for his anus, but he flinched away, so I let that go.

I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole. It was glorious. He was nice and clean, just a little sweaty, and he tasted delightfully masculine. His cock was perfect for my mouth, like I said, any bigger and it wouldn’t have all fit inside. As it was, I slurped and gobbled greedily. The sounds he was making, and the way his body humped back against my ministrations told me that I could have made him come within about thirty seconds, but hungry as I was, I didn’t want to do that quite yet. I wanted to savor this, just for a little bit.

I let it pop out of my mouth. A long, sweet-sticky strand of pre-come drooled from the swollen head of his cock. I came back up and kissed him hotly, massaging his wet dick with one hand. We kissed for a little while, my hand busy playing with his cock, and then I slid back down his body. I sucked each nipple in turn, making him squirm and moan. This was the most fun I’d had in forever! In weeks anyway. Then it was back down between his legs, where the main course stood up, proud and eager.

I flicked my tongue at the underside of his cock-head, where the two lobes of the glans came together, all the time stroking the length of his dick with my hand. Every time it felt like I was about to push him over the edge, I backed off. I tried again to play with his asshole with my free hand, but I was again rebuffed, so I contented myself with fondling his balls.

I toyed with him like that, balancing him on the knife-edge, bringing him close and then backing off three or four or five times, but it wasn’t long before neither one of us could stand the teasing anymore. I opened my mouth wide and swallowed him whole again, being careful to keep my teeth well out of the way, jerking him off furiously with one hand while I gently squeezed his fat balls. He grabbed me by the hair –not too hard, just hard enough– and fucked my face, which I adore! I couldn’t breathe, but that was OK, it really only took a few seconds anyway, and then he squealed (he squealed!! so cute!) in a truly gratifying way “Fuck Bitch I’m Coming!” and squirted gobs and gobs of thick, bitter-salty semen into my ravenous mouth.

I stayed with him until he started to go soft, and let his cock plop out of my mouth. I like soft cocks too, especially freshly fucked ones, and his was adorable in its reduced state. It was all wet and slick with my saliva, and come was still leaking out the end. I wanted to take it home with me!

He was suddenly kind of awkward. Guys are often like that, if you haven’t noticed. He wasn’t a total douche, and he did make a halfhearted offer to reciprocate, but even if I’d been interested, I could tell he really wasn’t into it. And it was all fine, I’d gotten exactly what I’d come to get. I made my excuses, discretely tucked my tail back into my panties where it belonged, kissed him on the cheek one last time, and saw myself out.

Some days that would have been all I needed. But this wasn’t one of those day. I was still horny as fuck, hornier. When I got back home, I masturbated, running the electric toothbrush up and down, all over the sensitive areas between my legs, and squeezing my thighs together, remembering the recent sensations of that urgently thrusting cock spurting off into my mouth. Of course that didn’t take me anywhere, I knew it wouldn’t, but it did feel really nice. Eventually my arm got tired and I got sore, and my toothbrush was running low on battery, so I quit.

I noticed there was a text message from Ahava on my phone, just a short note saying she hoped I was enjoying my day off.

To hell with it.

So yeah, not fucking your boss is pretty much workplace rule number one. But you know, what are rules if not for breaking? I texted her back and asked if she was still up for hanging out. She responded almost immediately, and sent me her address. We would meet up after she got home from the office.

Usually at work I presented myself as vaguely female, so I decided to switch things up. I kept the pretty lace panties, but I put on a pair of blue jeans, white undershirt, and a flannel shirt over that. I pulled on my cowboy boots, scrubbed off all traces of makeup, brushed down my hair, and felt like a whole new me.

Ahava met me at the front door of her place, a fairly generic but sweet-looking little house on a quiet suburban block. She had a wine glass in hand, and her lips were stained red, and when she opened the door and saw me, her smile was so big and warm that I absolutely melted inside.

“Come in, come in,” she said, and in I came.

Ahava was gorgeous, I’ve always thought so. She’s a bigger girl, but not at all in a bad way. It’s like every bit of her is a curve. I’ve mentioned her breasts, which are big and bouncy, but there is also her ass, thighs, tummy, cheeks… just everything! She has light brown skin, and a little up-turned nose, and brown eyes that sparkle when she says something slightly naughty or off-color at work. Which she does pretty often. She has a huge mop of unruly curly black hair, and a pretty mouth. I wondered what it would be like to watch her sucking somebody’s cock. Pretty hot, I’ll bet.

If she was taken aback at all by my masculine appearance, she didn’t say anything. I’ve never defined myself either way at work, I left the question blank when they hired me, but I do tend to wear feminine clothing, sometimes even a skirt. Right now however, I was feeling distinctly masculine.

I think Ahava was a little drunk. She finished off her wine and offered me a glass, and together we emptied the bottle. I had the distinct impression that she was at least as horny as I was: as we flopped onto her couch and chatted about this, that, and the other thing (but not about gender, boyfriends or girlfriends), she kept pressing herself up against me, and her boob kept brushing up against my chest in a way that made me absolutely melt!

It quickly became a kind of game, to see who could keep the pretense up the longest. I resisted the temptation to crack. I wanted to see how long it would take her to cut to the chase. Not long, it turned out.

There was one of those awkward pauses. Both of our wine glasses were empty, and Ahava was resting her head on my shoulder. I felt the tension building up towards a snapping point.

She seemed to make a decision. She lifted her head off my shoulder and clambered onto me, straddling my lap. Her cleavage was right up in my face as she toyed with the top button of my flannel shirt.

“So listen Delsha,” she said softly. “I would really like you to fuck me now.”

“I’d like to do all kinds of things to you,” I said.

We kissed, and I treated myself to two hands full of her big soft tits.

When the kiss broke off (I’m not sure which one of us stopped first), she very sweetly and shyly suggested that we relocate to her bed. I enthusiastically agreed.

I followed her into her bedroom, watching her butt wiggle in tight black jeans. My heart was racing, and I was consciously trying not to hyperventilate, and if I’d had a pussy it would have been drenched, and if I’d had a cock it would have been bursting out the fly of my jeans.

There was a porn site open on her computer screen. It looked like fairly generic oversized-penis-in-shaved-vagina stuff, but I’m not exactly picky. There was also a large blue dildo/vibrator thingy sitting upright on her bedside table

“Oops,” she giggled. “Must have left that out by mistake.”

By mistake, sure. Ahava seemed to have become an order of magnitude less shy now that we were in the cozy confines of her bedroom. Her shirt came flying off, followed by her bra. Her breasts were just as big and glorious as I’d always imagined. I love the way they shook and swung as she moved. There was an antique iPod on the bedside table, next to the dildo, and she pushed a button, starting up some weird hypnotic eastern-sounding music. I usually prefer my sexytimes without a soundtrack, but I sure wasn’t complaining.

We got up on the bed, and kissed some more. I was very much enjoying her naked breasts, her soft skin. For such big boobs, she had really little nipples, and it was fun to suck one of them into my mouth and make the nipple hard, and then let them flop right out and switch to the other side. It was also fun to grope her ass and pussy through her tight black jeans. I swear I could feel her wetness all the way through the fabric.

She stopped kissing me, and pushed me away for just a second.

“I’m really curious,” she said softly. “I’ve been curious for a really long time, to tell you the truth. I would really like to see you naked now.”

Well, I wasn’t at all sure how this was going to play out, but I wasn’t going to say no either. This definitely had the potential to end poorly. I hadn’t been completely naked, in a room with the lights still on, with another person in…. Well, not ever.

Ahava didn’t wait for me to respond. She unbuttoned my flannel and tossed it aside, and then pulled my white t-shirt awkwardly off over my head. My left arm got stuck for a moment, but we soon dealt with that. She paused to examine my naked upper half: smooth pale skin, no hair, no nipples, no birthmarks, no navel, no nothing. I’ve tried getting tattooed before, but they just wash right out, they never last more than a couple of weeks, and getting them hurts and is expensive, so what’s the point?

She traced her fingertips all the way from the button of my jeans up to the hollow of my throat, and back down again. “Interesting,” was all she said, “Very interesting.”

She unbuttoned my jeans, and I lifted my ass up off the bed to facilitate her pulling them off. I’d already kicked off the cowboy boots. That left my pink lace panties, which she dispatched with a deft tug.

“Oh, that’s not exactly what I expected to find,” she said. At least she wasn’t freaking out.

“I do pee out of it,” I said stupidly.

The playful naughty smile crept back onto her face. “I think I’d like to lick it, would that be ok?”

Now this was definitely uncharted territory. She slid down my body, and, tentatively at first and then more aggressively, started licking the flesh between my thighs, up and down and all around, even flicking her tongue at my urinary organ. It felt really good. Possibly even nicer than my electric toothbrush.

And then she found my tail.

“Oooh my, aren’t you full of surprises?!” she stroked it with her fingertips, dragging her fingers from the base of my spine all the way to the tip of my tail, and the stimulation was overpowering: I shrieked and jumped away, almost falling off the far side of the bed.

“Sorry,” I finally managed to gasp, “You can’t do that. Way too sensitive!”

“Oh…ok,” she said, startled by the intensity of my reaction. “No problem. But what if I just do this?”

She grasped my tail gently but firmly near the base, and went back to licking. I was surprised to discover that if felt really nice. Possibly even the kind of nice that might…

At that point, Ahava came up for air.

“I need for you to fuck me,” she said, fumbling with the closure of her own black jeans. “Like, right now.”

“I don’t think I can,” I gasped. “You see the equipment I’ve got…” I indicated the territory between my thighs.

“Oh, the equipment’s not a problem,” she said, with a full-on smirk. “I’ve got a strap-on!”

She peeled off her tight jeans along with her baby-blue panties, revealing a full dark bush and hips for days. Then she rummaged around under the bed, and came up with a black leather harness attached to a quite sizable and realistic silicone cock.

“I haven’t used it in a while.” She looked at me appraisingly. “It’ll take a bit of adjusting, but the harness should fit you ok.”

She was right. Adjusting the straps and buckles and getting the phallus positioned just right so it stuck out from my groin was awkward and annoying and really quite hilarious.

Ahava was flat on her back on the bed, a pillow under her ass. Her pussy was drooling wide open, and her pink clit bulged boldly out. I slid between her legs to give her a good licking. I love eating pussy almost as much as I love sucking cock. Sometimes more so.

She was very wet. She tasted sexy, clean and slightly tangy and female. I could have licked her sweet pussy all night, or at least until she came all over my face. But she stopped me.

“You can do that later on, if you want to. Right now, I need your cock inside me.”

I’d never really appreciated the fact before, but it’s not necessarily easy being a penis-haver. I suppose they do tend to have more practice with it. I couldn’t seem to direct my dildo exactly where I wanted it to go, it kept veering off in the wrong direction. In the end, she had to reach down and guide it in. Once we had the angle right though, it slipped right in.

“Fuck me,” she said. “Fuck me hard.”

I did my best, and from what I could tell, my best was pretty good. It was absolutely the most sexy thing I’ve ever seen, the silicone cock sliding in and out of her juicy cunt, her tits shaking with each thrust (and that thrusting is hard work!), her eyes closed and her head lolling back and forth as I fucked her.

She reached over and grabbed the vibrator off the bedside table and pressed it buzzing against her clit. I could feel the vibrations all the way through the dildo and against my own skin. It felt great!

“Oh Shit Delsha, I’m going to fucking come!”

My glutes were screaming at me. I willed myself to keep humping her pussy as hard as I could. Sweat was dripping off my face. I reached under her, my finger found her anus and pressed hard up against it, and that was the last straw. She exploded, screaming out loud, her back arching and her chest flushed red. In that moment, I felt like God.

After she was done, after we were disentangled and the come-slick dildo was out of her pussy and the harness was unlatched from my body, we lay together, just cuddling and breathing. My heart was still pounding from the effort.

“I’d like to make you come too,” she whispered, kissing me playfully on the nose.

“Um, I’m not sure you’re going to be able to do that.”

“Well, I’d like to try anyway.”

I wasn’t going to argue. She started out by licking up and down in between my asscheeks, and then she concentrated on licking my anus, which felt absolutely amazing, but wasn’t going to take me anywhere. The she got some lube from a drawer in the bedside table and slipped a finger up my ass. And then another one. And possibly a third, I’m not sure. In any event, it felt great!

“Hold on tight,” she said. One hand grasped me firmly by the base of the tail and tugged gently but insistently. As long as she didn’t stroke or pet it, it felt good. Great, even. The other hand started fucking my ass. Slowly and gently at first, but then harder and faster, and then harder still.

She was panting, breathing hard. I realized, all of a sudden, like a flash of heat lightning, that this had potential. She was fucking my ass with all her strength now, and pulling so hard on my tail it felt like she might pull the damn thing off.

“Don’t stop!” I managed to gasp.

Ahava laughed out loud and kept right on doing what she was doing.

I grabbed her big blue vibrator from where it lay on the sheets, mercifully withing my arm’s reach. I started it buzzing again, and jammed it hard against my own flesh, right where I’m most sensitive, just below my urinary organ.

My back was arched, I was humping back to meet her every blow, my tail curled up tighter than it had ever been before. Ahava’s face was all red and sweaty, and her tits shook delightfully, and she showed no sign whatsoever of letting up.

I felt something let go, and I slipped right over the cliff. I realized I was screaming. “Ahava, Ahava, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh… FUCK!”

And then I guess I passed out.

When I came to, she was sitting next to me on the side of the bed, gently petting my hair. She was still topless, but she had slipped on a pair of new pair of panties. I was sore, exhausted, buzzing with endorphins, and utterly in a state of bliss.

“So, did you come?

“Wow. I don’t know. I guess so. It felt really good!”

“I think I broke you,” she said. She was gently petting my hair.

“You didn’t break me Ahava, that was amazing.” Really and truly it was.

She indicated the stump of my tail, laying next to her on the sheets. It had snapped off right at the base. I reached around and felt my backside. It was tender, but not painful. Sticky, but no blood. But it was gone, all but the nubbin. Somehow I knew with confidence that it would grow back.

“Well,” I said, “This has never happened before.”

END

post-script:

After I left Ahava (she was really worried that she had hurt me, and I assured her that she had not in the least, and on the contrary that had been the best sex I’d ever had in my life, and that led to a lot of hugs and cuddling, which led to another bout of good sex where I did get to eat out her pussy and enjoyed it thoroughly, and made her come on my face, but no more orgasms for me), I took my broken-off tail and went home. It was late, and there was no moon, and the stars were out, bright and cold. I felt lightheaded, a little disconnected, as if I were coming down off of a long psychedelic trip or something.

Work was going to be weird tomorrow, but hopefully not in a bad way.

Back in my apartment, I set the remains of my tail down on the kitchen table. I swear, the little nub at the base of my spine already felt like it was starting to grow. It was definitely tender. I poured myself a glass of juice, and opened a bag of knock-off Doritos. When I came back to the table, the dry skin of my severed tail was cracking and peeling back.

It now looked a little like one of those long, brown seed pods that some trees make. With just a little encouragement the outer layers parted, revealing a perfectly-formed miniature person inside: arms, legs, toes, head, even a tiny little tail. It opened it’s eyes and saw me, and a tiny hungry cry came out of it’s mouth, a kitten’s mewing. It was hungry. A powerful emotion that I didn’t really understand flooded my veins.

What the actual fuck? Should I get it some milk?

A memory dredged back from somewhere way, way back in my mind told me no. This little one would much prefer some crushed-up bugs.

END (for real)

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A Brief Lecture On the Anatomy and Physiology of the Male, For Students Both Novice and Advanced

September 27, 2024 at 9:01 am · Filed under erotica ·Tagged anal sex, erotica, oral sex, pleasure, sex, sexual-health, sexuality, writing

Good afternoon sisters, ladies… and I see we have a few gentlemen present, welcome! Thank you for joining me today. I hope you will find my talk both informative and entertaining.

Now, I understand that many of you have little or no experience with this particular subject. Therefore, this talk will be mainly geared toward the rank beginner… although I hope that even those of us with a little more experience under our belts may glean some new and useful knowledge from this afternoon’s lecture.

At this time, I would like to bring my assistant up onto the stage. Thank you. Yes, please, hold your applause until the end of the lecture. Now, this dapper fellow before you is about twenty years old. Yes, thank you William. He is twenty-one years of age. A sporting young gent, fit and trim. In many ways he is in his very prime. Not a bad specimen at all.

I imagine that many of you ladies have not yet seen the male of our species in his natural state. So now, if I may, I will ask young William here to disrobe.

…thank you. Again, I would ask you to hold your applause until the very end. Isn’t he lovely? Turn around once my dear? Delightful. Now, turn back around and face the audience. Ah yes, very good. William, be a dear and lie down on this slab now. Thank you.

You will all have noticed, of course, the most obvious physical differences. Now some of you may have found the main anatomical feature… somewhat underwhelming? Well, fear not my sisters! What we see here is the penis in its resting, flaccid, state. Perhaps even a trifle affected by a touch of stage fright. This, I can assure you, is quite easily remedied. The male of the species, particularly the younger specimens, are very easily excited. Allow me to demonstrate.

Pardon me while I shift out of my blouse. I do not, and never shall I, wear a corset. But that is a topic for another day. Ah, there, much better! And oh my, I do believe we are already seeing some glimmer of interest down there! Very nice!

You can see ladies, the mere sight of my unfettered (and if I may say, less than extraordinary) bosom has in itself caused a notable change, quite a visible swelling. Now, if I just drag the tip of one finger along the underside of the member, thusly… back and forth… Oh gracious, how gratifying! Isn’t that lovely? How proudly it stands up! Even to the experienced practitioner, it is always delightful to see how with a minimal amount of effort, such… dramatic growth can be achieved!

If I may for a few moments direct your attention upwards ladies (yes, I know, we will get back to that very soon), you will no doubt have noticed the lack of breasts. Bosoms no, but the nipples are emphatically present. The male nipple, my friends, is far from superfluous. It is in fact, perhaps even more sensitive than our own. It may be caressed, pinched, nibbled, even twisted or pulled upon surprisingly hard with no ill effect to its owner. Observe:

William dear, if you cannot hold still, I may be forced to restrain you.

You can see ladies, he clearly enjoyed my attention, even if that attention was far from gentle. And see for yourselves, how evident that enjoyment is! The penis is even larger, more rigidly erect than before! One of the more delightful aspects of the male physiology is that there is absolutely no chance of him faking his arousal!

Now, since your attention is already down there, let me direct you to his testicles. A certain amount of care must be taken with these, as they are quite sensitive… but they are not nearly so fragile as their owner might lead one to believe, and sometimes a firm squeeze or even a light slap –like so—will temporarily cool down the overly amorous picador. There, there William, I didn’t mean it, you are doing just fine.

Conversely, very gentle manipulation, stroking or fondling them within the protective sac, or applying one’s tongue, or even (and I do particularly enjoy this maneuver myself) taking one or the other of the little fellows between one’s lips, can be very pleasurable. Yes, for him as well.

You will note, ladies, that even as we do things which are pleasurable for him, it is of paramount importance that whatever we do, is first and foremost, pleasurable to us.

An example: William, turn over please. Yes, onto your hands and knees. Just like that. Good.

Observe the posterior! What handsome buttocks! Now ladies, I am surely not alone in occasionally enjoying a light slap across the bottom during a moment of excitement? Many, if not most men enjoy this as well. I would urge you not to be gentle here, the male bottom can withstand a surprisingly vigorous thrashing with no ill effects. Rather, your own hand may begin to sting. If you wish you might use a small quirt, or riding crop with excellent results. But I digress…

Observe the anal orifice. Isn’t it adorable? I assure you sisters, this little hole is not made merely for the passing of excrement. Males may be very bashful about this part of their anatomy, but in my experience, simply brushing one’s fingers around and across the anus will invariably produce the most charming results. If you feel bold, you can very gently insert a wet finger. Oh my, I think he likes it! Two perhaps? Don’t be afraid to insert your fingers all the way inside, if he doesn’t like it, he will let you know. And I think he does like it! If you are really feeling particularly bold, you might lick the area, and even press the tip of your tongue inside… But let us not get too far ahead of ourselves.

Yes, I think young William found that just as exciting as I did! Observe the charming angle of the penis from this perspective, how it remains swollen and erect, observe his testicles… Can you see the silver strand of nectar leaking from the tip? It is a sign of his arousal, and I find its presence most gratifying. It is also sweet to taste, an amuse-bouchet as it were, before the main course…

Roll over William, there’s a dear.

You may be wondering at this point, we have the male in his natural state, and he is quite clearly in a delightful state of arousal… so what can we do with him? Well:

Providence gave him a tongue for a reason, ladies. William here has had some practice, and has become quite accomplished with his, but your own beaux may need instruction and encouragement. I will demonstrate by sitting astride his face, for purposes of demonstration, but I think you will find in your own boudoir, that lying on your back with a pillow or two under your bottom and your legs spread wide askew is the more convenient position for all involved.

In your travels, my sisters, you may encounter some gentlemen who are hesitant or unwilling to provide a lady pleasure in this way. To me this is a reliable marker of a less-than-stellar lover, and these gentlemen certainly do not find themselves on the receiving end of my affections.

But to return to the task at hand. I hope you will not object if I remove my skirts? It is far more convenient this way, although I may testify that a fair-sized hoop skirt can hide a multitude of sins!

There, that is much better! William here has no qualms about pleasuring a lady! In fact he is quite eager, aren’t you dear? A pillow behind his head for his comfort… and I sit astride his face just like so…

Oh, so nice! Truly, the male tongue is truly an underappreciated organ! You can set the pace, or let the gentleman take the lead… oh my… William has discovered my button, my clitoris… and…. ah… oh, Oh MY, that feels nice! He can insert a finger or two into my vagina as well, or into my anus, which feels heavenly. Just as I tongued his nether hole, so can he lick mine, and… ah… oh my, he’s going to make me spend! I am going to rub my clitoris while he keeps on… William don’t you dare stop, whatever you do, don’t stop! Ah! Oh! Aaaah!

Ah, there, that was divine! And look, William remains as aroused as ever! Oh my goodness, let me catch my breath and have a drink of water.

Now if I were a man, that might have been the end of the lecture. Because men, most men, are like a sky-rocket: There is a lovely flash and a bang, and after that the excitement is all over. Many women, however, can be practically insatiable when it comes to the fleshy desires, and I confess that I still have quite a healthy appetite.

Speaking of appetite, allow me to show you the inverse, as it were, of what our young William did for me. I am going to have to be very careful in doing this though, because I don’t want him to spend too soon, for there is still quite a bit of material to cover.

Ladies, there are many ways to approach this, and with practice I am sure you will all develop your very own favored technique. But let me just say this before I proceed: it is by no means required to take the entire thing into your mouth all at once, holus-bolus, a most un-ladylike way to eat a sausage… unless, of course, the fancy takes you!

[inaudible]

There are a variety of tools at your disposal here: use your lips, your tongue, your fingers, you can even gently nibble. Play with the shaft, the crown, the very tip, or detour down to the base and visit the testicles or the nether region below. You can let him slide briefly in between your bosoms if the fancy takes you. Or any combination of these things! Pay attention to his responses and adjust your attentions accordingly. I have to say that I enjoy fellatio very much, and I fancy myself quite good at it. Under other circumstances, I’d be very tempted to bring our young William to climax right now, and even to make him spend right into my mouth. I know that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I find it delightfully satisfying.

Let us leave that for just a moment, and give William here a chance to cool off, for I fear he is in very real danger of becoming overheated!

We are now approaching what many think of as the ‘main event’. As a matter of fact, I’m sure that is the reason many of you are in attendance here today! Before we proceed, however, I want to assure you that ‘The Big One’ is by no means required neither for his or your pleasure or satisfaction. Many times, in fact, my partners and I find that is more convenient, or simply more fun, to bring ourselves off in one of the other ways I have described. And the fact is that ‘screwing’ as the uncouth sometimes call the act of penis-in-vagina sex, comes with certain biological risks, not least of which is the unwanted pregnancy. One can minimize the risks however, by using the somewhat cumbersome, but quite effective condom. It is easy to apply… There. I can assure you that the barrier does not decrease the pleasure for either one of us, not at all.

There are, of course, many positions from which to choose, and you may mix and match to your heart’s content. I for one am a strong proponent of being taken from behind, and having my bottom slapped and my hair pulled rather hard during the heat of the moment. And flat on my back, with my legs spread wide, and him panting like a bull as he pounds away above me is certainly quite charming! But I see that we are running a little short on time, so for today I shall straddle him, while continuing to face you, the audience. This has the advantage of filling me up quite nicely, while letting him play with my buttocks or reach around and cup my breasts or play with my clitoris.

In other circumstances, I might apply some slippery oil to my vaginal opening, or ask him to have another lick or two, but I find that I am more than wet enough already, and he should slip right in….

Ahhh, that feels so good! It may not slide in so easily for you the first time, but believe me, with a little practice you will fit him just like a glove! You should be aware that these penises come in a bewildering variety of sizes and shapes, but I have yet to meet one that didn’t have charms all its own!

Now, ah… I am driving here, rocking back and forth you see, as well as up and down, and it feels delicious! I could very easily spend again with his penis inside me… I’m really very tempted, but if I were to do so, he would most certainly spend inside me… so reluctantly I shall withdraw…

There are few things, ladies, as satisfying as taking an honest cock into your vagina!

The next act I wish to demonstrate is certainly not for everyone… but it is most certainly for me! The entry is always a little tricky, even when one is extremely aroused, as I am now. I’m just going to apply a little oil to his penis, his cock, and a little more to my own backside… that should be adequate… now take careful aim and…. ahhhh, there it goes, right up inside me.

The feeling, I have to tell you, is absolutely exquisite, and if William would be a darling and reach around and rub my clitoris… I may just spend again! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh, that is such an amazing sensation!

I’m going to give myself a quick wipe off, and in the interest of decorum, I will just step behind this screen for a moment to put my clothes back on…

Well, that concludes my lecture. I want to thank each and every one of you for attending today….

Oh, did I forget something? Well, well, I most certainly did! Our poor young William is truly in desperate need of release. Perhaps I could ask for a volunteer from the audience? Yes, you there in the front, the pretty young lady with the lovely pink hat. Please, come up on stage!

Perfect my dear, thank you. Have you ever done this before? No? Lovely, that is perfect. Just set your parasol right there my dear, and remove your gloves. What? Oh no, you’ll do just fine, I’m sure!

If you want you can use some of this oil on your hand, just a dab. Now grasp the penis firmly… ooh, not quite that firmly… there you go, you’re a natural! Go as fast or slow as you wish… the faster you go, the quicker he will spend… that’s right, you’re amazing! Look at how his body responds to your touch! You are going to make him spend right here on stage, won’t you be proud!

What’s that? Well, of course you can darling! Just lean over and open your mouth and take the ‘crown’, the swollen purple part between your lips. Careful of your teeth! Yes, and keep moving your hand, just like that. Oh my Dear, you’re going to… He’s about to….

Oh my!! Well! Just look at that! That was certainly… impressive! No, don’t stop my dear, not quite yet, not if you have one shred of decency in your soul… wait for him to be all done. There you go, lovely!

That was amazing, and your first time too! You didn’t miss one drop! Thank you, Miss… Penelope? Thank you all so much. Once again, it has truly been a pleasure! Please do ‘come’ again!

END

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Program Your Own TV

August 27, 2024 at 10:53 am · Filed under sex ·Tagged anal, anal sex, bisexual, erotica, Ff, Mf, sex, voyeur, writing

“Ok people, stand by!”

I leaned back in my chair and took a big slurp from my THC-infused Dr. Pepper. I only ever drink the stuff when I’m in production. I think it helps me focus.

“They’re in the elevator. Ready Cameras One and Two.” I felt a familiar, insistent tingle between my legs. This always happens when I’m shooting. I would take care of that promptly after work, with my boyfriend, if he was still awake. Or maybe without him.

I watched on the big monitor as they exited the elevator, holding hands. They were a cute couple. I wouldn’t kick either one of them out of bed, not for eating crackers. A quick kiss and they parted ways: he went down the hall to the right, and she turned left toward her own room.

“Camera one,” I said into my headset mic, “And… Go!”

I timed it perfectly, if I do say so myself. On the monitor, she stepped through the door into the hotel room. She smiled to herself and shook out her hair, which was a gorgeous curly auburn mop. She was lovely, but not in a fashion model sort of way: she was a bigger girl, and sort of frumpy; but she was ALL curves, and she just radiated sex. I couldn’t wait to see her naked.

She grabbed a bottle of cold water from inside the mini fridge and sat down on the edge of the bed, playing with her phone. “Camera two,” I said, “Standby and… Go.”

He was already inside his room. As I watched on the monitor, he pulled off his black t-shirt, carelessly pulling it over his head and tossing it to one side. He was slender and his skin was the color of milk chocolate. His nipples were tiny and dark brown, like little Hershey Kisses. I would love to suck on those things until they melted in my mouth! He had the most adorable little tummy, just the beginnings of a little pot belly with a slightly outy bellybutton. I caught myself holding my breath as he unbuttoned his jeans, casually oblivious to the high-resolution camera that was following his every move. “Zoom in,” I instructed as he stepped out of his pants and underwear, tossing them into a crumpled heap on the carpeted floor. Some guys neatly fold their clothes, others just throw them wherever. Women are the same, there is no pattern I’ve been able to discern. Either way, I enjoyed the sight of him naked. He was nearly hairless, just a hint of kinky black fuzz above his cock. His balls were a compact little package, and his dick was adorable, soft and the same chocolate brown as the rest of his skin, only the foreskin was a little darker. I would happily ride that thing all night long. Or eat it for dessert and ask for seconds.

“She’s headed for the shower.” I glanced up at the monitor, and so she was! “Camera one, standby and… go. Standby the shower cam.”

I watched as she walked over to the bathroom, admiring the way her plump bottom wiggled inside her loose-fitting orange harem pants. Was she wearing panties or not? I honestly couldn’t tell. As she stepped into the bathroom, I switched over to the shower cam, a tiny remote unit mounted in the ceiling.

She slowly got undressed, admiring herself in the mirror, carefully folding her clothes and placing them in a stack on the lid of the toilet. No panties. Her tits were glorious. Quite a lot bigger than mine, but not so huge as to be ridiculous, and certainly not surgically enhanced. They sagged a little, and one angled off slightly to the right. In my book, they were perfect. She turned around, revealing a neatly trimmed triangle of soft, reddish-brown pubic hair, thick labia pouting below. I was definitely moist at this point. The camera zoomed in, traversing up and down her glorious body as she stepped into the shower. I watched, unabashedly lustful, as she lathered up, washing each breast in turn, her armpits, her stomach, her face, and in between her legs. I have the best job in the world.

“Cue the massage guy,” I said, and toggled back to Camera Two. Her boyfriend was on the bed already, stark naked and flat on his back, watching something on the television and playing idly with his dick, as guys tend to do when they are naked and think nobody is watching.

There was a tap at the door, and boyfriend had the decency to cover up before the door swung open and in came massage guy. Not really my type, too muscle-bound and romance novel cover-esque for my personal taste, but it wasn’t about my personal taste. We had profiled the both of them very thoroughly, and we had a pretty good sense of their likes and dislikes, as well as some fantasies that they thought each were very private.

Ok, so massage guy wasn’t my type, but it still made for interesting and pleasurable viewing. Boyfriend rolled over onto his stomach, and massage guy kneaded his shoulders for a brief but believable few moments, before heading south. He worked the lumbar back perfunctorily, then pulled off the towel that demurely covered boyfriend’s buttocks, and kneaded his pretty brown buns and thighs a little, before diving in for the main course.

I actually caught a glimpse of boyfriend’s adorable puckered dark brown little anus before massage guy stuck his face in between those adorable ass cheeks and started licking. Boyfriend started moaning right away, it was hot! Massage guy was dragging his tongue up and down boyfriend’s crack, from his ball sac up to the small of his back and back down again, pausing to drill his tongue into his tight little hole. Boyfriend was on hands and knees now, thick cock hanging nearly straight down. Massage guy didn’t touch his dick, but nibbled and licked at his dangling balls before returning his attention to boyfriend’s greedy anus.

A quick cutaway to the shower cam. She was masturbating in there, the little weasel! I knew she was multi-orgasmic, so I wasn’t too worried about it, and it was beautiful to watch. She was leaning against a corner of the shower stall, labia spread wide apart and sudsy, busily fingering her clit.

Cut back to his room. Massage guy was standing at the side of the bed now, pants around his ankles, and boyfriend was busy sucking his cock. He’d never done this before, I knew that for a fact, but he certainly looked like he knew what he was about. His head bobbed up and down on massage guy’s erection, and he periodically came up for air, stroking the masseuse’ penis while looking up at him for approval.

“She’s coming out of the shower.”

Massage guy gently disengaged, and I cut back to Camera One, just in time to catch her coming out of the bathroom, wrapped demurely in a white hotel towel.

Massage guy was quick. He was already lying on her bed, ripped and erect, six pack and a big dick, straight out of Playgirl centerfold. The towel fell to the floor, revealing once again her lovely curvy body, all pink and damp. She jumped straight onto the bed and started licking his cock, like she had just discovered a delicious new form of candy. Perhaps she had.

I wasn’t sure if she had already had an orgasm in the shower or not. Either way, her fingers were busy between her legs again. I told the camera operator to zoom in, and we caught a nice view of her engorged clitoris. He smirked and said something to her. She stopped licking long enough to look up at him and grin.

She opened her mouth wide, and swallowed his sizeable cock whole, all the way down to the base, her nose buried in his pubes. He wrapped his hands up in her lush curly auburn hair, and started vigorously fucking her mouth, slamming his cock in and out, using her for his own selfish pleasure. I could almost hear the gurgling, slurping, choking, and gagging. You don’t try that shit with me, not if you value your balls, but this was her fantasy, not mine.

They didn’t take long. He was already good and primed from boyfriend’s earnest ministrations, and he wasn’t messing around now. He fucked her mouth like it was a cunt, his fat balls slapping against her chin, her big tits dangling and swinging like a pair of great fleshy church bells. He made no allowance for her to breathe, and when he came, he crammed her head into his crotch with two strong hands and held her there.

She was coughing and choking and absolutely radiant when he finally released her. A long sticky stream of comingled semen and saliva drooled out of her mouth and pooled on her breast. He scooped it up with his finger and brought it to her lips, and she eagerly licked his finger clean.

I cut back to Camera Two, where the bed was now decidedly crowded. Two magazine-cover pretty girls were making out. They were already topless and both of them had the kind of big tits you pick out from a catalogue. Boyfriend was watching them tongue kiss and play with each others boobs, totally enchanted, while a third girl, stockier with short, spiky hair and a pierced lip, had her arm wrapped around his waist, and was idly toying with his dick.

The two model-looking girls stopped kissing and fooling around, and got down to business. The blonder of the two unsnapped and pulled off her compatriot’s jeans. Her friend was wearing skimpy black panties, the kind that serve mainly as decoration, and those were gone in an instant as well. Her pussy was, of course, shaved bare.

The third girl, much more attractive and interesting-looking in my book, was stroking boyfriend’s delicious-looking hard dick. Not jerking him off, oh no, just running her fingertips up and down the length of it, occasionally giving it a friendly squeeze, petting it like you’d pet a cat. A long shiny thread of pre-come leaked out of the tip. A less-than professional part of me wanted to swoop down into that room and lick it up.

The two girls had briefly been locked in a quite fetching sixy-nine, but now the darker haired girl with the shaved pussy was doing a shoulder stand. Blonde with the bigger and more expensive set of tits was busy between her legs. I have to hand it to them, they both seemed to be very into what they were doing!

Blonde was slurping away at the other girl’s clit, two or three fingers buried in her juicy bald cunt. Her partner was kicking her legs wildly, pinching and pulling her own nipples. Throughout the whole performance, the third girl, the one with the pierced lip and short spikey hair, was gently petting boyfriend’s cock. If that thing got any harder, it looked like it might explode. Which was, of course, exactly the point of this exercise, to tiptoe right up to that line, but not past it.

My own panties were seriously wet. This is not unusual, it’s a perk that comes along with the job.

Back to Camera One again. Girlfriend was down on her knees on the floor next to the bed. Standing in front of her was an amazonian woman dressed up as a circus ringmistress, or possibly a lion tamer. She had a black top hat, black jacket with tails, scarlet sequined corset, fishnets, and the kind of high heels that always make me think of sprained ankles. She carried a little whip.

Ringmistress sat down on the side of the bed, and girlfriend lay down across her lap. The big girl proceeded to spank that beautiful soft round ass red. Again, I’m down with a few light slaps to the behind, or some gentle hair tugging in the heat of the moment, but this woman was leaving welts. Nuh-uh! No accounting for taste, and girlfriend was most definitely into it.

When the brutally sound spanking was finally over, when girlfriend’s butt cheeks were sufficiently beaten and reddened and bruised, big girl stood up and cracked her whip. Three women wearing identical leopard-skin print leotards and masks entered the room.

Big girl snapped her whip again, and the three girls simultaneously peeled off their costumes and lay down on the bed, tits up, legs spread wide, all three pussies obscenely on display, like a collection of orchids. The very same anatomy and yet each one completely distinct and different from the others.

The whip cracked again, and girlfriend got to work, diving in between the splayed thighs of the first girl, a pleasantly plump redhead with incredibly pale almost translucent skin. Ringmistress let her lick happily for a few moments, then grabbed a handful of hair and lifted her head up, and plunged it into the waiting pussy of the next girl, a muscular black chick with a full and curly bush. The redhead fingered herself and watched. Girlfriend did not miss a beat, licking and slurping at the black girl’s pussy until she was removed again, and the ringmistress placed her between the legs of the third girl, a tall white girl with an hourglass figure and a petite little pussy crowned with a neat landing strip.

Back and forth she went, as the whip cracked and the ringmistress tugged her hair, licking each of the wet and eager pussies, the bulging clits in turn, making the girls squirm and moan and squeeze her head between their legs before she was forcibly moved on. It was a fucking hot spectacle, I have to tell you, and I was quietly getting my jollies just squeezing my thighs together and watching.

The redhead was the first to get off, rolling back and forth, head thrown back in bliss, with girlfriend’s tongue flicking her clit, multiple fingers crammed up inside her sopping wet pussy.

Tall girl was next, I could almost hear her screaming orgasm through the reinforced concrete and soundproof walls.

The black girl was taking her sweet sweet time. Ringmistress handed her an industrial-looking chrome plated vibrator, and she pointed her toes at the ceiling, pressing the big vibrator hard against her clit while ringmistress sucked first one brown nipple then the other, and girlfriend concentrated on tonguing her asshole. That did the trick. She came hard, bucking and flailing, and rewarding girlfriend’s efforts with a squirt of clear ejaculate right into her grinning face.

I cut back to boyfriend’s room. The two pretty girls were now kneeling nude in front of him, taking turns dragging the tips of their tongues along the length of his swollen cock, while the short-haired girl was cupping his balls and languidly fingering his ass. It was time.

On my cue, the girls withdrew, leaving boyfriend hard, sweaty, and exceedingly turned-on. Ringmistress gently but firmly removed girlfriend from between her asscheeks where she had been busy, and made her exit.

The actual event took about five seconds, which of course was the whole point. He entered the room, his hard black cock leading the way, where he found his girlfriend flat on her back on the bed, legs splayed wide, playing with her swollen clit, soaking wet and more than ready for him. He entered her with a single thrust, kissing her mouth at the same time, and just like that they were both coming.

They stayed conjoined like that, kissing and touching softly, sweaty and exhausted bodies pressed comfortably up against each other. It was the perfect ending, a long slow fade to black.

***

I got home late, and I got home horny. I had a choice, of course: jerk off, or wake him up for a quick fuck. I chose both.

I pulled off my work clothes, grabbed my USB vibrator from the bedside table (tiny, blue, and surprisingly powerful!), and climbed up onto the bed. I peeled the sheets back so I could admire his sleeping body. He always sleeps in the nude, and it’s adorable.

I pulled my panties down, and finding my pussy still agreeably wet, I pressed the buzzing toy against my quite literally aching clit. I had been needing this for hours, and it felt amazing!

His eyes blinked slowly open, and his cock stiffened at the sight of me masturbating at his feet. “Hi honey, how was work?”

“I need your cock inside me, now! Grab your phone, film it!”

He fumbled for his cell phone while I got my bra off and straddled him, grasping his cock in one hand and taking aim. When he got the camera going, I plunged down, engulfing his delightful, perfectly-shaped penis with my drooling, ravenous cunt.

We had many, many of these little videos. I like to jerk off to them from time to time, and so does he, I think.

With his thick dick filling me up, I let go, surrendering to my arousal. I came hard, bouncing up and down on his cock, my favorite vibrator pressed hard against my clit. My orgasm triggered his, and I felt him swell and shoot off inside me. I collapsed on top of him, kissing his stubbly face and sleepy lips. His softening dick was still clasped inside my extremely juicy pussy, and it felt delicious. I might have to go for a second round.

“Good day at work?” he asked.

“The best,” I replied. “Just like always.”

END

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Mirror, Mirror

August 23, 2024 at 3:02 pm · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, bisexual, erotica, fantasy, Ff, Mf, MM, sex, voyeur, writing

Bored and horny is a dangerous combination. And I was plenty of both.

It was summertime in New Jersey, and I didn’t have a job or a boyfriend, but I did have an air conditioner and a drawer full of sex toys. So I spent a lot of time alone in my room. Masturbating.

The four of us had rented a big old house in central Jersey for the summer. The rent was paid up through September, and included electricity, so there was that.

I had gotten it into my head that I really wanted to fuck my housemate, Simon McDreamboat. The only problem with this scheme, other than obtaining positive consent to fuck his brains out, was that he was dating (and fucking) our other housemate, Stacey. Rather loudly, too. His bedroom was right next to mine, and the walls were not thick.

On the wall of my bedroom, directly opposite the bed, was an extremely large, gilt-framed mirror. That was the reason I had chosen this bedroom: I enjoy watching myself masturbate, and the mirror was positioned perfectly for this activity. So, with a prime view right between my legs, I’d put some quality porn on, enjoy the view of my very own pussy, perchance with one of my dildos sliding in and out of it, and drive my clit to distraction with a small but surprisingly powerful vibrator. And that is how I happened to make my big discovery.

It was one of those really good, full-body, brain-rattling orgasms. My head was thrown back, my back arched like a longbow, my little USB vibrator pressed hard against my clit, a bit fat purple dildo stuffed up my pussy, biting down hard on my lip to keep from screaming out loud (because… modesty?), my legs flailing, and one of my feet kicked the mirror frame, hard. Hard enough that it left a nasty bruise and a broken toenail. Hard enough that one of the wooden curlicues broke off the frame. When I got up to inspect the damage (nothing a little wood glue wouldn’t fix), I discovered that the mirror had swung a few inches away from the wall.

The fucking thing was on hinges.

It obviously hadn’t been moved in a very long time. The hinges were well concealed and very sticky, and there was a distinct outline of dust where the frame had lain against the wall. And behind the mirror was… a matching mirror, mounted on Simon’s bedroom wall. Through the half-silvered glass, I could quite clearly see his night table, his alarm clock, his unmade bed. It was, oh my goodness, a two-way mirror!

My second discovery was a little more deflating. In short order I found out that Simon and Stacey always, always fucked with the lights off. I had been masturbating to their sex noises all summer, and I was bitterly disappointed that I wouldn’t actually get to see any of the action. But there was a consolation prize.

Simon liked to jerk off in the afternoon, and he wasn’t shy about drawing the shades, or turning out the lights. Now, I know some other people may disagree with me, but I believe there is absolutely nothing in this world sexier than watching a guy jerk off when he doesn’t know that anyone is watching!! Holy Cats, I can’t tell you the amount of pleasure I got watching him stroke his cock. It was a beautiful cock, too. And I’m a bit of a connoisseur.

Sometimes, I could make out the porn he was watching on his phone. Sometimes he would break out a Fleshlight type fuck toy, and stick his dick in that. Sometime, not often, but sometimes, he’d stick a cute little glass buttplug up his ass. I found that I had a brand-new hobby! I got really really good at masturbating along with him, and I got so I was generally able to time my own orgasm to coincide with his.

There was only one problem: now more than ever, I really wanted Simon and his pretty cock up inside me!

What’s nearly as good as fucking the cute guy you’re lusting to fuck? Fucking his cute girlfriend.

She came on to me! I had, of course, masturbated to the idea of having sex with her, but then I had masturbated to all of my housemates. And most of my classmates and co-workers, and random people I saw at the grocery story. What can I say, I’m a sex fiend.

Anyway, I was lying around in my bedroom one hot afternoon, half-dressed and enjoying the AC, and not masturbating for once in my life, when Stacey tapped on my door. She had a really bad crick in her shoulder, would I mind rubbing it a little bit?

Why no, I didn’t mind, not at all!

She pulled off her shirt, lay face-down on my bed, and unsnapped her bra. Holy Cats, I just about wet my comfy pants! My pussy was absolutely drooling, and no I was not wearing any panties.

I started rubbing her shoulders, and I quickly found the knot. As I massaged her back, she moaned and groaned like she was playing the lead role in a porno film. There was no way she wasn’t doing this on purpose. I was kind of getting my jollies rubbing my pajama-clad pussy up against her bottom, and it was driving me crazy.

“Why don’t you do the front half now?” she asked, squirming underneath me and flipping over onto her back. I promptly pounced onto her magnificent bare breasts and did my damnedest to shove my tongue straight down her throat.

She reciprocated very enthusiastically, and for a few moments I just enjoyed the fact that I was making out with a girl, a hot girl, who’s beautiful tits were pressed up against mine. It had been a while.

At this point she was wearing nothing but boxer shorts (I recognized those boxers, they belonged to Simon!). She was grinding her crotch up against mine, and I was grinding right back at her. I broke off our kiss long enough to pull my own t-shirt off over my head, and she immediately placed her hands on my tits like, well like a certain horny teenage boy in the back my Accura whom I remember fondly.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” she told me huskily, and she most certainly did not have to ask twice! I slid down her curvaceous body, she lifted her butt up off the bed and I tugged down those boxers, revealing the prettiest little pussy I have ever seen in my life.

She was neatly trimmed, her clit bulged eagerly out, and her lips pouted open, swollen and wet and slippery. I dove right in. She was soaking, absolutely drenched, and her taste was intoxicating. I licked her pussy from the crease of her asscheeks up to her clit and back, over and over again, while she squirmed and sighed. I switched to flicking my tongue against her clit, and her moans got louder, threatening to turn into shrieks. I slid a finger, and then two up inside her red-hot pussy, and I ticked the outside of her asshole with a third finger, keeping my tongue on her clit the whole time, and now she really was shrieking, and suddenly she was coming, coming all over my face.

She squirted all over me, I was drenched and so was my bed. That was a first for me, something I had never experienced firsthand, and I thought it was absolutely the hottest fucking thing ever. I came up for air, sticky, wet, grinning, and ready for more.

I was just about to pull her sweet face between my thighs for some much-needed reciprocation, when we heard a noise from the bedroom next door.

“Holy shit bro, that feels amazing! Where the fuck did you ever learn to suck dick like that?”

Stacey and I looked at each other, mouths agape.

“Oh Dude, stop for a second, you’re going to make me come…! Oh shit yeah, stop. Can we do a sixty-nine?”

I pressed one salty finger against my lips, gesturing for silence, and I switched off the bedside lamp. Tiptoeing across the room, I swung the mirror wide opening, revealing my private window into Simon’s bedroom

There he was, and there was Dan, our other housemate, a bit mousy and a year younger than the rest of us. He had started college early, and did something inscrutable but incredibly brilliant with computers. He was quiet, mostly kept to himself, and, it turns out, was extremely fucking hung!

There was a LOT of dick in that room, and I was loving every inch of it. Dan came up for air, leaving Simon’s wet cock swollen and waggling in the air. His balls were drawn up tight, firm and squeezable. They kissed, dicks rubbing up against each other, and I melted. Absolutely melted. Then Dan lay down on the bed, toes pointing toward Stacey and myself, and Simon climbed on top, and we had an absolutely prime view of Simon doing his best to swallow that entire cock thrusting up into his face. It was priceless, and hot as fuck.

I realized that I was masturbating, and I looked over, and sure enough, so was Stacey.

In the other room, it seemed that Simon had given up on trying to deep throat Dan’s cock. It was just too big. (not to say that I would mind giving it a shot myself!). He was licking it lick an ice cream cone, nibbling the balls, dragging his tongue up and down the impressive length and girth, finally settling on wrapping his lips around the bulbous head of Dan’s cock and sucking on that while he furiously jerked him off. Suddenly Dan squealed something, we couldn’t hear exactly what, he had a mouthful of Simon’s cock, and Dan started flailing his feet and bucking his hips. I loved the way his balls bounced and jiggled as he came. Simon swallowed every last drop.

“Make me come?” Simon half-pleaded. The boys rearranged themselves, with Simon sitting on the bed facing the mirror, watching the action, and Dan between his legs, his head bobbing busily up and down. A long silvery strand of semen dribbled out of Dan’s softening cock. I was entranced.

“Can I eat out your ass?” Dan asked, and by way of answer, Simon got onto his hands and knees with his tight rump thrust upward. Dan stuck his face between Simon’s cheeks and started slurping while Simon jerked off.

It didn’t take long. Simon was jerking off faster and faster, his eyes locked on the mirror. “Oh, oh, oh, it’s so good, don’t stop! Oh dude, I’m going to come! Oh, please, put your finger inside me!”

Young Dan popped up for air, and without a moment’s hesitation, slid a finger or two (I couldn’t see how many) straight up Simon’s ass. His hand replaced Simons’, and he finger-banged Stacey’s boyfriend while furiously jerking him off. Simon exploded, shooting pearly-white globs of semen directly at the mirror. A few drops managed to spatter right onto the glass, a good six feet from where the boys were now cuddled up together at the head of the bed.

Stacey had three fingers crammed up her own pussy, and her eyes sparkled. “That was so fucking hot! I think I need you to fuck me!”

Fortunately, we did have that technology. My last boyfriend had bought me a strap-on, harness and all. I had left the boyfriend, but I’d kept the dildo.

I’d always felt more than a little bit ridiculous getting myself strapped into the harness, but the way Stacey was looking at me as I secured the various belts and closures, and the way she fingered her pussy while she watched helped make me a little less self-conscious.

She swung the mirror closed and clicked on the light. “Do me from behind,” she said. “I want to watch!”

I’d never fucked a girl before, and quite honestly I had always wanted to give it a try. As a matter of fact, I had jerked off to the idea before, donning the harness solo, and envisioning slipping it up inside the wet and willing holes of pretty girls and pounding them senseless with it.

And now I was going to have the opportunity. Stacey was on her hands and knees on the bed, facing the mirror, her tits hanging down like cantaloupes on the vine (do cantaloups even grow on vines? I didn’t know or care!) Her pussy was wide open and drooling wet. I positioned myself behind her, put my hands on her rump, and slid the silicone cock up inside her.

To tell you the truth it was a little tricky finding the right angle and getting the thrusting quite right. But when I was finally all the way up inside her, when the blue dildo was well and truly buried in her cunt, when she was meeting my every thrust with a grunt of her own, bucking her ass back against me, the effort was well worth it! The image of us in the mirror was incredibly hot. Better than any porn I’d ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.

I was getting some nice stimulation from grinding against the base of my dildo, and it suddenly dawned on me that I might be able to get off this way.

That was when Stacey looked back at me, hair a beautiful mess, biting her lower lip fretfully and said “Would you mind fucking me up the ass?”

Why no, I wouldn’t mind at all. And I had a jar of lube right handy as well. Actually getting the dildo up Stacey’s tight little asshole, that took a lot of work. I ended up licking her anus and slipping a slick finger inside, which she did not mind one bit, before trying again with my big blue dildo.

This time it slipped right in. Stacey gasped, and then growled. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass.” I could tell she was rubbing her clit hard and fast, but I couldn’t really focus because I was way too turned on. I started humping, fucking her asshole at first as hard as I dared, and then as hard and fast as I could, and with each thrust, the base of the dildo banged against my engorged clit, and pushed me closer to the point of no return.

“Oh shit, I’m fucking coming!” I’m not sure which one of us yelled this, maybe both of us, because we both were. I’m not sure when I’ve had a harder orgasm in my entire life, it just kept coming and coming rolling over me like ocean waves. I wrapped my arms around Stacey’s midsection and held on for the ride. Finally it was over, and I fell onto the bed, a limp ragdoll, my dildo sliding out of Stacey’s ass with an audible *pop*.

“That,” Stacey said with the satisfied smile of a cat who has just snacked on the family canary, “Was absolutely amazing.”

From the other side of the mirror, in Simon’s bedroom, I heard the sound of applause.

Bored and horny is a dangerous combination.

END

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North Country Bureau

August 11, 2024 at 9:03 am · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, cnc, erotica, fiction, oral sex, sex, writing

Dear Friend,

When you spoke the other week about wanting to be abducted and mistreated by that creepy, strung-out-on-meth old man in your neighborhood with the bad jailhouse tattoos and extremely poor dental hygiene, just what exactly was the bad treatment you had in mind?

He’s definitely not normal. He might be inbred, I don’t know. I don’t like the looks of him at all. You told me that this wiry old degenerate sets your pheromones buzzing like a nest full of yellowjackets run over by a lawnmower. He’s not really as old as he looks, you know. He’s probably closer to our age, but he’s done some hard living. Almost certainly done some time in prison. Did you see the fingers on his hands? What does it read, tattooed across his knuckles? The letters are too blurry to make out, and probably misspelled too. Those fingers are scarred, broken, stained with nicotine and worse. Those are hands that have absolutely done certain things too awful to speak of.

And his wife. Lord have mercy. His wife is built like a shit brickhouse, big as an NFL linebacker, and mean. She never did get her GED. The freaking woman opens beer bottles with her teeth. Is that how he got his perpetually dirty fingernails inside you, is that how you ended up chained up on the back porch of their single-wide, eating cold Chef Boyardee out of a metal dog bowl, and periodically being pissed on, when they even bothered to remember that you were out there?

Were you flirting with him, in a perfectly innocent fashion, in the checkout line at the Family Nickel? Not that anyone would have nailed it down as flirting, just a few offhand remarks about the weather and a vaguely inappropriate comment about the asparagus from Mexico you were buying. But you noticed the sly leer, the way his eyes traversed your crotch and lingered on your tits and never quite made it all the way up to your face, the Ken-doll bulge in his filthy greasy jeans. His wife noticed too, and she was not amused.

When she showed up at your house the next day, right after the plumbers had left, did your dog run and hide under the sofa, the little coward? Owning an old house is no joke my friend, you don’t have to tell me, and plumbing ain’t cheap. What sob story did she lay on you, did you even bother to expend the energy to believe it, or did your cunt twitch and drool in anticipation of the humiliation and mistreatment to come? Did your nipples stiffen and did your skin turn to gooseflesh when you saw the cruel contemptuous sneer that completely belied the words coming out of her mouth? Why, oh why did you get into her car? Please don’t tell me she offered you candy, I can’t even go there.

Does she drive a retired cop car, with plexiglass separating the front from the back, and no handles on the rear doors and the seatbelts cut out? How much do you think she can bench-press? 200? 250? Did she slam on the brakes a few times at random intervals for the sheer pleasure of battering your face against the plexi shield behind her?

Was Fox News blaring on the TV when she dragged you inside? Why did he have barbed wire, cut into just the right lengths, just lying around in the living room? Did she watch smugly when he used it to bind your wrists and ankles, and when the barbs gouged into your flesh until it bled, did he laugh in your face, or did he just bark curtly at you to “Shaduup”?

Did he make you get down on your knees and beg to suck his cock? Beg, like you were behind on your mortgage and pleading with your skinflint boss for a raise? (My friend, you’ve been working there for three years, you deserve a raise already! At least cost of living, for Christ sake!) Did she sneer at you down there on your knees like a worm, did she tear open your shirt and laugh at your tits and call them ‘udders’? Did she threaten to twist your nipples off with a pair of lineman’s pliers, and did you suddenly sickly realize that she really would too? When he finally relented, and unfastened his belt and undid his Levi’s, was his cock the size, shape, and smell of a dried shitake? Did it taste like a stale dried mushroom too? How long did you suck on it, desperate and afraid and wishing you could just get him off and make it all stop? Did you lick his balls as well, all musty and shrunken, did you stick your tongue up his puckered ass? All without a twitch from his penis, not the slightest hint of an erection? Did he finally get fed up and pissed-off and frustrated, and shove you roughly down on the floor and beat you across the face with the buckle end of his belt until your lip was busted open and at least one tooth was shattered?

Did she laugh at you, and blow menthol cigarette smoke right up in your bloodied and swollen face? Did you watch him hungrily watching you as she pulled off those disgusting paisley tights, no panties on underneath, and grab you by the hair and pull you in between those monstrous thighs? Could you even find her clit in that mass of slippery moist flesh? Was the taste of piss, menstruation, sweat, and yeast overwhelming, did it make you gag? Did you try to scream into her cunt when you realized she had no intention of even letting you breathe, and your hunger for air became unbearable? Did she get even hotter and wetter and more slimy as you desperately struggled for your life? Did you keep right on licking her, knowing full well that you were asphyxiating, in the vain hope that if you got her off she might let you have one gasp of air? Did she keep you right there, buried in the folds of her obscene flesh, until you passed out?

When you came to, were you chained up and naked on the back porch: cheap warped and untreated Home Depot lumber knocked together with drywall screws and left exposed to the elements? Was there a loop of airplane cable wrapped around your neck and swaged in place? Was there a metal dog dish with cold Chef Boyardee in it? Did you eat it, out of sheer hunger and desperation? Was there shit, actual human shit, mixed in with the raviolis? Did you vomit, or did you just want to throw up?

Did they call up all their friends and invite them over? Did you recognize half those guys and that one lady from Family Court and APS? Did they laugh at you? Did one of them whip out his dick and piss in your face?

Did he give you his Zippo lighter and make you crawl around the living room on your knees, ankles and wrists still painfully bound, Fox still blasting inanely on the TV, lighting all their cigarettes for them and calling them ‘Sir’ and ‘Madam’? Did you fumble the lighter and drop it on the baby shit-colored beer-stained polyester carpet, and did he fly into a rage? Did she hold you upright by the hair and did he whip your tits and belly with the bare copper end of an old extension cord until you thought the flesh had all been flayed away and he was whipping away at your bare rib bones?

Did they all laugh at your misery?

When he was finally done whipping you, when his arm was tired, did he hold a taser against your neck and force you the stick the bent tines of a metal salad fork into an electrical outlet? Was the shock like getting kicked in the cunt with a steel-toe boot? Did all his friends laugh uncontrollably, dangerously, like a lynch mob, when the main breaker for the trailer tripped and all the lights went out and every single clock in the place would have to be reset? Did he tase you anyway then, just out of spite?

Did she set your hair on fire, for the sadistic pleasure of watching you flail around trying to put it out? Did she force your mouth open and put out her cigarette on your tongue while they all hooted and hollered like it was lady’s night at WWF?

Did she slip a latex piggy snout with a rubber band over your nose, and did they all think that was the most hilarious thing they had ever seen in their life? Did they take pictures? Did he rudely shove those creepy, warped tattooed fingers up inside you with no preamble whatsoever just to show everyone how wet you were, how you were loving this? You and I know that just because a woman is wet, it doesn’t mean she’s enjoying herself, but part of you really did like it, is that true?

Did he bend you over the coffee table, raw and damaged tits pressed into their ashtrays and spilled beer, and did he spread your cheeks apart for everyone to gawk at and admire? Did you secretly wish you could get a snapshot of that moment? Why did he spit on your asshole when it was your cunt that was ravenous, salivating, wet as Lake Fucking Michigan, your clit bulging, your hole gaping wide open and begging to be used? When he fucked your ass, did he somehow manage to get his cock hard, or did he sodomize you with his bare-knuckle fingers, a dog’s rawhide bone, his wife’s dildo, the handle of a Nicopress tool? Whatever he did, it hurt. It felt like he did some damage back there. Somebody fucked your ass, probably multiple somebodies, and came in there. At some point during the fucking, did she put a plastic bag over your head, exactly the way the warning label says not to, and hold it in place with those awful hands of hers while the world of pain and smoke and laughter and misery became increasingly foggy and finally slipped away?

That’s probably when they all broke out the stash of crystal meth.

When you opened your eyes again, were you cold and soaking wet, all alone on the back porch? Had it started to storm, and were you naked and shivering, lashed by the wind and a freezing cold rain straight out of Canada? Is that when you realized you were probably not going to survive the night?

Had they just forgotten you were even out there?

When did you realize that the 1/8” aircraft cable swaged too tightly around your neck was secured at the other end to a railing that was more rotten than his two front teeth? How long did it take you to bust the railing loose? How far did you crawl before you felt safe enough to stop for a minute and unwrap that horrible barbed wire from your wrists and from your ankles? How long did it take you in the cold wet woods and along the side of secondary roads to limp back to your own house? Was your little dog so thrilled to see you that she jumped up and down and licked your blood-stained face?

You probably already know this, but you need a special tool to cut through aircraft cable. Will your dental insurance cover the broken teeth? You should probably get some bloodwork done, just to be on the safe side.

Take good care of yourself and be careful!

Your Friend Always,

Elsie

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Sneaky Creatures

April 20, 2024 at 11:30 am · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, erotica, fantasy, fiction, oral sex, sex, writing

“Oh my God, that was fantastic!”

“Yeah”

“Amazing… so good.”

“Yeah.”

She put her beige bra back on, backwards, fastening the clasp over her sternum before spinning it around and manhandling each of her breasts back into the cups.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

“I know.”

“I’ll miss it.”

She kissed me on the forehead, a salty, wet kiss. My cock twitched involuntarily, heavy and wet between my legs. “We need to get back to work before anyone notices we’re missing.”

We slipped unobtrusively back into the office, and didn’t do it again for almost a year.

***

“Hey, got a minute?”

“Sure…” I looked up from my computer. She was standing in the entrance to my cube, hand on hip, and she had that look on her face. “Wait, really?

“Yes, really.”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of busy actually…”

“It’ll be quick… you don’t actually have to do anything.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“That’s my problem. Now come on. Five minutes, supply closet!”

I was, of course, there in two minutes. I closed the door behind me. It didn’t have a lock, but what are the odds that someone would barge in on us? Anyway, nobody had yet. So far we’d been very lucky. A large part of the thrill, for both of us I think, was how rushed and dangerous and naughty and furtive it all felt.

She had already removed her bra. Now she pulled her shirt off, revealing her breasts, large and shapely and beautiful. Her nipples stood out in excitement, mirroring the arousal of my own cock.

“Pants down,” she commanded. “Sit.”

I sat on a metal filing cabinet, and she got down on her knees and wasted no time at all, swallowing my erection, slurping up and down, caressing and stroking the shaft, squeezing my balls and then focusing on sucking the head while her tongue flicked at the underside and she furiously jerked me off, my cock well lubricated with her spit.

She briefly popped her head up. “Tell me before you come.”

I knew the drill, and she wasn’t wasting any time at all. We weren’t about prolonging the pleasure, a slow build-up to an amazing mutual climax, or the delicious agony of an extended edging session; this was all about instant gratification, nasty, quick and dirty.

“Now!” I half-shouted, half-whispered, “Now, please, right now!”

She stopped instantly, letting my obnoxiously hard, urgently swollen penis pop out of her mouth. Nobody in the office, I believe, would have thought that prim and pretty mouth capable of such filthy escapades. She hiked up her skirt, pulling cream-colored panties to one side, and sat down on my cock, engulfing me in her hot wet cunt.

She put her arms around me, pulling my face into her naked breasts, as she ground herself on my dick. “I love fucking your cock,” she said. She had told me this before, but I never got tired of hearing it. “My favorite part is feeling you come in my pussy. Later on I’ll rub your jizz all over my clit behind my desk, and I’ll get myself off thinking about fucking you, and nobody will even know…”

That was my cue. Humping back at her, lifting our combined weight off of the metal cabinet with my hips, smothering my cries into her big fleshy her tits, I came.

She stayed with me, rocking back and forth, slower now, until my cock was soft. She stood up, adjusting her underwear back into position, admiring my wet and slippery and much reduced dick. There was a gratifying stain on the front of her sensible panties. I ogled her body unabashedly as she got dressed.

“We really can’t do this anymore.”

***

Six months later.

She waited patiently for me to get off the phone. As soon as I hung up, it started ringing again. It was one of those days.

“Busy?” she asked, possibly ironically.

“No, not at all,” I said, ignoring the insistent bleating of the phone on my desk, never mind all the waiting texts and email messages. “But you are married.”

“I sure am,” she said. “And the sex” (she leered obscenely which was a jarring look on her normally wholesome, cherubic face) “is fantastic!”

“I really can’t this instant,” I said regretfully. “I’m swamped.”

“That’s ok,” she said. “I just wanted to invite you over. She wants to watch me with a guy. She’s curious. You just have to pretend we’ve never done it before.”

***

She met me at her front door wearing comfy-looking pink pajamas with red strawberries printed all over them. She stuck her tongue out at me, waggling her eyebrows like Groucho Marx. “Come on in!”

Her wife was lovely, but not at all what I’d expected. She was a big girl, in every sense of the word. She must have stood over six feet tall, and while she certainly was not fat, she was definitely a whole lot of lady. Curves for days. She had an unruly mop of curly black hair, she held a martini in one hand, a small blue vibrator in the other, and she wore a black silk kimono. I had the strong sense that she could kick my ass from here to next Tuesday if she was of such a mind.

She offered me a glass of water, which I accepted, and the three of us made nervous, awkward small talk for a very short while until her wife said, “I’m getting antsy, could we just fast forward to the main event?”

That sounded fine to me. She peeled off her pink pajama tops, revealing those gorgeous breasts, while I self-consciously proceeded to get naked.

“Sit down.” I plopped my naked butt down in an overstuffed paisley armchair. She got down on her knees between my thighs, and started licking my dick.

This wasn’t the urgent, frenzied blowjob I’d become used to; she was taking her sweet, sweet time. Across from us on the couch, her wife sipped her martini and switched on the vibrator.

She started by slurping up and down my erect cock like a big lollipop, and she looked absolutely adorable doing so. It was kind of nice to be able to admire her pretty face and her pretty tits, and to not be in a hurry to come and worried about someone barging in on us at any moment.

She licked, she sucked, she nibbled the underside, she flicked her tongue at the tip, she kissed it, she damn near swallowed the entire length at one point. It was bliss. Two things she did not do were establish a rhythm, or use her hands. It was bliss, but it was also exquisite torture. My dick strained and bobbed as she delicately kissed my dangling balls.

Her wife made a growling noise like a grizzly awakening from hibernation. “Damn, that’s hot!” Her kimono fell open, and I caught a glimpse of a lush black triangle of pubic hair.

She tugged my hands, and I found myself on all fours on the carpeted floor. She lay on her side beneath me.

The buzzing of the vibrator simultaneously became more intense and more muffled. “Fuck her face!”

Well, who was I to argue? With a smile, she parted her lips, and I took great pleasure in fucking her mouth like a pussy, shoving my cock in and out between those pretty, pretty lips. She did gag a little, and I did not stop.

One of her hands found it’s way to my ass, a wet finger pressed against my anus, gently but insistently penetrating me. It felt amazing. Beyond amazing. I could feel the excitement gathering in my balls.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Her wife was very obviously enjoying the show. “Don’t hold back! Come in her fucking mouth!”

I did not hold back. She was fingering my ass with at least two fingers now, molesting my anus with the rhythm of a hammer drill, skewering me deeper and deeper with every thrust of my hips. I had a hand on the back of her head now, my fist full of her lovely brown hair, and I was fucking her mouth hard and fast, approaching my climax like an express train on a downhill track. She coughed and gurgled, but stayed with me, fingers buried up to the knuckles in my asshole.

For once, I didn’t have to be quiet, and I took full advantage of that fact, baying out loud like a hyena, like a whole fucking troop of howler monkeys, coming in her mouth so hard that I saw stars and nearly blacked out. She stayed with me for the entire orgasm, sucking every last drop of semen out of my cock and swallowing it down.

“Oh fuck yeah,” her wife grunted. “That was great.”

Her fingers slipped out of my overstimulated ass, and my dick popped wetly out of her mouth. She grinned up at me, a wicked, wolfish grin that exposed all of her perfect teeth. She looked extremely pleased with herself.

Wife asked me if she could get me a drink or anything before I left, in a tone that suggested pretty clearly that my presence there was no longer required. I pulled on my clothes and used the bathroom, and left them, only slightly sorry that I wasn’t going to be allowed to stick around for the second act.

***

“Busy?”

“Not especially. But you’re a married woman.”

“That’s my problem, not yours.”

“It would be my problem if your wife finds out and decides to kick my ass.”

“She’s not going to do that. Come on. Supply closet. Five minutes.”

Five minutes later, I was in the supply closet, waiting for her. Five minutes turned into seven, and then eight. This was unprecedented. Finally she burst in, closing the door quickly and quietly behind her.

“Sorry, I got hung up.” She set her phone down on a shelf and slithered out of her brown slacks and her panties, kicking them to one side, and started unbuttoning her blouse. “The other night at my house was really fun,” she said as the frumpy floral blouse fell onto the tile floor, followed immediately by her sensible beige bra. “But I like being sneaky even better. Why don’t you lick my kitty a bit?”

I had never had the pleasure. She lay down on the cold tile floor of the closet, using her crumpled up heap of clothes for a pillow. “Get naked first. I like watching you naked.”

When I was fully undressed, I dived in between her legs, and was gratified to find her already very wet. Her taste was musky, feminine, and clean, and I took a lot of pleasure in eating her out, running my tongue up and down her vulva and exploring between her pouting labia, slurping up and down and in and out, before settling in to sucking her fat pink clit and tickling her pussy and ass with my slick fingers. She was very clearly enjoying what I was doing, and she was also very clearly having a very hard time keeping quiet about it, which was also extremely gratifying.

I came up for air, with a big smile all over my very wet face.

“Why don’t you lick me from behind?”

She rolled over onto her knees, with her shapely rump thrust right up in my face. I dove back in, licking her wet and juicy pussy while she fingered her clit. I flicked the tip of my tongue across her little crinkled anus, and she cooed and wiggled her hips. I took the hint.

I licked her asshole, insinuating my tongue into her tight little hole, licking up and down and all around it, while she furiously rubbed her clit. “If you keep that up,” she said, “I think I’m going to come!” I kept it up.

“Why don’t you stick it in my ass?”

“??”

“Right now. Your cock. In my ass!”

Apparently things were plenty slippery without any auxiliary lube, because I slid right in. “Oh yeah,” she hissed, grinding her clit hard and humping back against me. “That’s the stuff!”

We came together. That was another first. Neither one of use was able to keep very quiet as I exploded deep in her ass, and she clenched and shook and quivered through a long and drawn-out orgasm all over my cock. I guess we were just lucky that nobody heard us and came in to investigate. At some point, I suppose, our luck’s bound to run out.

We disentangled, sticky and oozing and flushed and all out of breath.

“I like sneaking around too,” I said as I hurriedly got dressed. It’s good to get lucky, but it’s also good not to push your luck too much. “But I also really liked it when your wife was watching us.”

“Oh, she’s watching alright.” She pointed at her cell phone, leaning unobtrusively on a metal shelf full of legal pads and post-it notes, tilted in our direction. “Wave at the camera!”

I waved, and her wife waved back.

As I left the supply closet, I felt like I was floating six inches above the floor. And maybe I was.

END

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A Fox in the Hen House

July 5, 2011 at 5:19 am · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, erotica, fantasy, sex

Margot was fooling around on me again. I was certain of it. I could see it in her eyes, the way she walked. I could smell it on her, almost. She didn’t say anything. Of course she didn’t, she didn’t have to. I knew.

My job may not pay all that great, but it comes with a few fringe benefits, and at least the hours are flexible. I cut out of work early, parked just down the street from the house, and waited. My iPod was set on repeat, dialed into the Violent Femmes Blister in the Sun over and over again. I slapped out the bass line on the steering wheel.

I didn’t have to wait very long.

He was young, almost painfully young. Was he even shaving yet? I started shaving at age fifteen, the year I lost my virginity. Oh, Margot, you’re breaking my heart! Just how young was this one?

He might actually have been eighteen; in truth I’m really lousy at judging that sort of thing. The kid was skinny, with a high forehead, a delicate, aristocratic nose, and fine sandy-blonde hair. He was wearing crisply creased blue jeans and a white button-down shirt that was not tucked in at the waist. There was a folded-up tie hanging out of his back pocket. He walked with a swagger and panache that screamed out loud to the world “I just got some!” He was practically glowing. I figured he’d just been on the receiving end of one of Margot’s legendary extended-play blowjobs.

Margot teaches English, high school English. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on here. Oh Margot, you naughty, naughty, naughty girl!

I sat on the information for a couple days, let it stew, let it simmer. A week went by.

On Friday I left work early, and swung by the bar. I sat near the window and slowly drank a beer and picked at my chili-cheese fries and watched the pretty girls go by in their short, short skirts, and wished I had a smoke. When I finished my beer, I left the fries to congeal, paid, and drove home.

I left the car parked up the street and walked the last little bit. All was quiet and still. The front door was unlocked. I slipped on inside.

Once in, I could hear the noises coming from the bedroom. I winced as the squeaky spot in the floor creaked treacherously under my boots, but I needn’t have worried. They were oblivious.

He was sitting, stark naked on the side of the bed, facing away from me. Margot was still wearing her little black summer dress with the white polka dots on it, but it was gathered up around her waist, and her large, pale boobs were spilling out the top. She was sprawled out across the bed, and she was working on engulfing his dick with her pretty little mouth, plump lips freshly painted with hotrod-red lipstick.

As I watched, she let his wet dick pop out from between her pretty lips. She attacked his penis with her agile tongue, licking at it as if it was a big fat ice-cream sundae with a sweet red candy cherry on top.

He had a pretty big dick too, for a skinny young kid. I focused on that nearly hairless, neatly circumcised dick, savored the pleasure it must be radiating throughout his nervous system as Margot did her thing. He really was skinny; there was just no meat on him, no fat, no muscle to speak of. It was as if someone had draped a sheer sheet over an anatomy-class skeleton. And then given it a big fat boner. And a plump set of balls. There was a wispy patch of pubic hair just above his bobbing cock, the same color as the hair on his head, but he had no other body hair that I could see. Somehow he reminded me of a bird, some kind of stork or a heron maybe. He was jerking off now, pointing his dick like a loaded gun right at Margot’s big bouncing breasts.

Margot took the opportunity to squirm out of her dress. If she had been wearing a bra, it was already long gone, her nipples pinkly excited in the afternoon air. She was wearing a tiny black pair of panties that disappeared up the crack of her ass, and that I had never seen before. Perhaps she had bought them special, just for the occasion.

Nearly naked now, on her hands and knees on the bed with her boobs hanging pendulously down, Margot went back to devouring her young friend, who made raspy guttural noises as she ate him alive.

I stepped full into the room, clearing my throat with a loud phlegm-ridden cough that seemed to echo off the walls. Margot’s head popped up like a sprung jack-in-the-box, her face the perfect picture of shock and surprise.

I addressed the kid: “You know there’s only two ways out of this house.” It was true; there was the front door and the back door. I suppose if someone were desperate, he could jump out a window, it’s only a one-story ranch, but lets not get technical.

The kid stammered at me, his big wet cock bobbing comically. His mouth moved, but no words came out. I could see the fear in his big, round eyes.

I could see why he might be intimidated. He was naked, I was fully dressed. He was the interloper, I was the aggrieved husband. He was young and skinny, I was old and big.

It’s not that I’m actually a really big guy; I just seem to give off the impression of bigness. I’ve been lifting weights since I was in high school, when I got sick of getting beaten up for being a wimpy white boy; and I have a lot of tattoos. I was wearing black jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I smiled. That didn’t seem to reassure him.

“She sucks dick pretty good, huh?” No answer. “You like having your dick sucked, huh?” No answer. “You like sucking dick then? Huh?” Still no answer. I gave him a shove right between his shoulder blades, and he went sprawling onto the floor. “Maybe you oughta try sucking my dick, boy.”

My cock, which had felt plump and semi-swollen all day long, was by now good and hard, an angry bull cooped up in its pen, just waiting for that cowboy to saddle up. I opened up my zipper and released the beast.

He looked over to Margot, but she had no help to offer. He looked up at me, but I gave nothing away. Hesitantly, unsure of himself, he opened up his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and gingerly licked the underside of my cock. You’d think he was being forced to sample a piss-flavored popsicle.

“Oh no,” I said, “I don’t let just anyone suck my dick. You gotta beg me for permission first.” I slapped him across the cheek with my erection: once, twice, three times, again and again.

“Please sir,” he finally said, his voice trembling, “Please let me suck your cock. I’ll do a good job, I promise. Please let me take it in my mouth.”

“Well,” I said, “Since you ask so nicely, open wide.” I took a big handful of his hair, and crammed his face down on my waiting dick. “Watch those teeth, pretty boy.”

I rather enjoyed fucking his face. Margot seemed to enjoy it too. As her little boyfriend choked and gargled on my cock, struggling to get air down his windpipe, terrified of pissing me off further by catching his teeth on my dick, she lounged back on the bed, sliding her skimpy black panties down her legs and letting her fingers do the walking.

He obviously wasn’t any kind of cock sucker. The kid had no technique. It made me feel like slapping him around just on principal. Still and all, it felt good. I could have come that way, just grabbed the back of his head and fucked the shit out of his face; but I chose not to.

I pushed him roughly away, and he fell gasping and retching onto the floor, his big dick still incongruously hard.

“Wanna eat some pussy?” Margot’s legs were spread wide apart, and her pussy was pouting open, pink and excited. “You wanna lick some of that purdy, juicy twat?” I took a fistful of his fine, thin hair and dragged him bodily up onto the bed, shoving him in between Margot’s strong, curvaceous thighs.

With my hand firmly gripping the back of his head, I ground his face into Margot’s crotch, not particularly caring whether he could breathe or not. I mashed him into her muff, as if his head was a sponge, and I was trying to mop up a particularly stubborn stain.

It probably wasn’t ideal, as far as cunnilingus technique goes, but Margot seemed pretty into it, lounging happily on the bed and humping back against his face, wiggling her hips and straining to stimulate her clit against him. I finally released him, and he fell down on the bed, coughing and sputtering.

His dick looked harder than ever. It looked like it might have even grown another half-inch or so. It arched rigidly up and out from his wispy, blondish crotch like a pre-stressed steel girder. The head looked like a deliciously ripe, big juicy raspberry. If he got any harder, he might just pop.

“You wanna fuck her, don’t you?” He just looked dumbly up at me, his dick practically glowing cherry red and drooling. “You wanna slide your dick up that hot, juicy, wet pussy, don’t you?” Margot had her legs spread acrobatically wide, and was busy parting her thick and meaty labia with two fingers while idly playing with her clit. “Well, go right ahead… I ain’t stoppin’ you.”

With a nervous look over his shoulder at me, Kid shuffled in between Margot’s wide apart thighs. Holding his oversized penis in both hands, he carefully took aim, and gingerly nudged himself into Margot’s eagerly waiting pussy-hole.

It was just within the bounds of possibility that he was an actual, bona fide virgin.

There was a satisfied-sounding sigh as he entered her. I’m not sure if it came from him, or from her, or both.

“Don’t you DARE come inside her,” I warned as he feverishly started humping her cunt. Margot’s legs wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him deeper inside. He had a cute, pale little ass, that reminded me of a white peach, and his fat fuzzy balls jiggled pleasantly.

They were both making a lot of noise as they fucked. It was pretty hot. I spit on my index finger and slid it between his butt cheeks, pressing up against his tight little anus. He whined, but didn’t stop what he was doing.

I shoved my finger up his ass. It was hot, and impossibly tight. Definitely a virgin, to this, at least. His asshole locked down hard on my finger, clenching like a fist. He froze, and underneath him, Margot wriggled and squirmed, pleasuring herself shamelessly on that big, hard cock of his.

I started finger-fucking his asshole, and he slowly relaxed a little, enough so that my finger could slide in and out. He resumed humping Margot’s pussy. His thrusts moved in time with my invading finger. It was like I was fucking her with a giant, hot-blooded finger puppet. It was actually quite hot, and my own dick was really hard now, obnoxiously hard and horny.

The kid’s breathing changing, becoming faster and more raspy; and his fucking started to change too. He was fucking in and out of Margot at an ever-increasing tempo, humping her like a horny little dog. I knew what was coming.

I slapped his plump balls. Not hard– well, not hard enough to do any damage– but definitely hard enough to get his attention. “DON’T!” I barked, “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Don’t stop!” Margot whined from under him, “Don’t let him stop, I’m almost there!”

I kept my finger up his ass and maintained a firm grip on his balls as he fucked Margot to an epic orgasm, the kind that rattles the china and sets off car alarms. Her body thrashed and spasmed under him. Every time I thought he might be close to sliding over the edge himself, I gave his nuts a quick squeeze.

Finally she was done, flushed and sweaty and satisfied. She pushed him away, and I extracted my finger from his bum.

“I bet you wanna come,” I said, “I bet you want it real bad.” I was already rolling the condom down my engorged, aching cock.

We maneuvered him onto all fours on the bed, his dick hanging thickly straight down like a pendulum. He whimpered a little bit, like a frightened puppy. It was cute.

I stuck my tongue up his asshole for a little while, which he didn’t seem to mind one bit. He tasted fresh and sweet and clean, kind of reminded me of apricots. I licked his ball sac all over while Margot fed him her pussy juice from her fingers. She was masturbating all over again.

And then I shoved my cock up his ass. The way he howled as my cock penetrated him made all my arm hair stand up. I wasn’t gentle. I wasn’t in a particularly gentle mood. His sphincter clenched right down on my dick, like a choke collar, impossibly tight.

“Fuck my cock!” I ordered, “Fuck my cock, goddamnit! If you want to come, then fuck my goddamn cock!”

Slowly, gingerly, he started sliding himself back and forth on my dick, in and out. As he moved, Margot reached underneath him and traced her fingertip up and down the length of his erection. If he ever stopped moving, so did she. It was exquisite.

Slowly, inexorably, his body started to unclench, and as he got more and more excited, he moved more and more vigorously back and forth on my dick. I was pretty much in heaven, impaled on this skinny kid whose tight little ass was moving on my cock like a tilt-a-whirl. Margot was full-on jerking him off now, and he was moaning something fierce, humping at her hand and sliding my dick all the way in and almost all the way out his butt hole in the process.

He came with a shout, arching his back and spasming, squirting gobs and gobs of pearly-white come all over the sheets. His orgasm set me off, and I abandoned all restraint, grabbing him by the shoulders and pounding his asshole, fucking him hard and fast, pounding him down into the sticky mess he had made on the sheets. He took the pummeling almost silently, but I could feel his body straining underneath me, his anus clenching and unclenching on me like the hand of a drowning man. I fucked him hard, fast, and deep until I came with a roar, filling up the condom with my own semen. I collapsed on top of him, still lodged in his anus, breathing hard.

I watched Margot finger herself to another quivering orgasm.

Finally I rolled off the kid, extracting my dick and throwing away the spent condom. I tossed him his wadded-up clothing. Perspiration was beaded up and running down his hairless, concave, avian chest. His dick was still half-hard and drooling slightly.

“Get the hell outta here.” I growled, and he slowly walked naked out of the bedroom and out of the house, like a shell-shocked soldier emerging from the trenches, or the lone survivor staggering out of a massive train wreck. The last I saw of him he was out on the front lawn, awkwardly pulling his trousers on.

After he was gone, I flipped Margot over my knee and spanked her big round ass until it was beet red and covered with finger-shaped welts. I spanked her until my hands stung, just for being such a naughty little slut.

Later on, we were sitting on the back porch, drinking chardonnay. Margot was still glowing.

“I think,” she said, sipping her wine, “I think that was the best one we’ve ever done.”

I whole-heartedly agreed.

END

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Narwhale

May 7, 2011 at 5:16 pm · Filed under erotica, sex ·Tagged anal sex, erotica, lesbian, sex

When she asked if she could stay at my place for a while, I said ‘Yes’, and then immediately regretted it. I’m single, a thirty-something woman, lurching awkwardly toward middle age. I’m set in my ways. I live alone, and I like it. Besides, if there really was trouble at home, as she told me, I sure didn’t want to get dragged in.

She didn’t have much stuff; just a backpack, full to bursting. I gave her my spare house keys, and set her up on the futon in my living room; showed her the bathroom and how the shower worked, and then left her to her own devices. It was already late, and I had a presentation to do in the morning.

She was still asleep when I left for work, sprawled out on the futon, curly, artificially copper-red hair spilling over the side of the bed, still wearing yesterday’s black t-shirt. The blanket was pulled aside, and I caught a glimpse of her baby-blue panties. She was too skinny, and there were scratches on her forearms and dark circles under her eyes, and she looked painfully tired for someone so young. Even asleep she seemed tense, her forehead furrowed as if in concentration. She was so pretty my whole being clasped with wanting, a deep and aching need. I got dressed and left quietly, so as not to wake her up. I wondered if she’d be there when I got home. I wondered if I’d ever see her again.

When I got home from work, she wasn’t there. The spare keys were nowhere to be seen. Nothing seemed to be missing. I shook my head. I was a fool, a stupid fool, and someday it would bite me right on the ass.

I sighed and shook my head, feeling old and gullible and fat. I stripped out of my work clothes, and took a hot shower. After that I felt a little better. I put on my green terrycloth bathrobe and poured myself a very tall glass of red wine. And then the internet porn. And then one hand found it’s way between my thighs to where it was already warm and moist and slick, and I wasn’t really concentrating on masturbating, but trying to decide between ordering in pizza or Chinese, and if I was in the mood for a full-on vibrator/dildo session, or whether I’d just let my fingers do the walking.

I barely heard her knocking on the door.

It had been raining all evening, and she looked like an abandoned cat. Her makeup was running, and she looked tired and almost transparent. When she asked me if she could come in, if she could still stay, her voice seemed to tremble on the verge of breaking. I could see the outline of her bra through her damp t-shirt, and I felt a powerful rush of feeling for her that was not especially maternal.

I let her in, and stepped discreetly out of the room while she changed into dry things. Faded blue jeans with the knees torn out, and a crumpled white t-shirt with the cartoon image of a cat on it. No bra, I noticed that right away. Her skin was pale, pale as if it had never been exposed to sunlight.

I offered her a glass of wine, though she was far too young to be drinking alcohol. She accepted it gratefully, slurping the malbec down like it was Gatorade. I decided on pizza right then and there, phoning the order in as we sat together on the futon couch, her legs stretched out, lying casually across my lap, bare inches from my hungry, horny cunt.

Between the two of us, we killed the whole pie. She devoured it like a girl on a mission, eating two slices for my every one. I poured us both more wine, wringing every last drop from the bottle. I considered opening another bottle, getting her drunk, seducing her, climbing on top of her and rubbing my cunt up and down her face. Then I thought better of it.

I made my excuses and helped her turn the couch into a bed. We were both a little drunk, and there was a lot of giggling and fumbling that might or might not have been outright flirtation. I left her, and went to bed by myself, where I whacked off furiously, cramming the shiny steel Narwhale up my cunt and pinching, pulling, twisting my nipples until I came, came hard, gasping hoarsely into my pillow as my pussy and clit twitched and shuddered and twitched again.

I had erotic, confusing dreams, and woke up with a headache. She was asleep on the couch where I had left her, her mouth hanging slightly open, snoring almost imperceptibly. I wondered what she sounded like when she came, I wondered if she’d wondered that about me. I left her to sleep and tiptoed out of the room, coffee cup in one hand.

While she was in the shower, I snooped through her backpack. I felt guilty doing that, but it didn’t stop me. Rolled-up clothes, wadded-up panties. Tampons, cell phone, condoms. There was a baggy of pot, and a smaller ziplock full of white powder, and lots of pills. Bottles and bottles of them, all unlabeled or clearly mislabeled. I carefully closed up her bag and set it just where she had left it.

She came out of the shower, all pink and clean, wrapped up in one of my purple towels, and I felt like I was at my first high school dance. I imagined that towel falling to the floor, and me taking her in my arms and having my way with her, taking her to the edge and then bringing her back, over and over again until she was begging for it, and then making her come, making her come so that her entire body shook and she called out my name as her muscles strained and tensed and relaxed, and she collapsed on top of me, hot and sweaty and sexy, kissing my lips over and over again, thanking me.

And then I realized I was running late for work and wasn’t dressed or properly caffeinated yet. I said goodbye with a flutter of my fingers as I pushed my bike out the front door, my helmet dangling from one hand.

That evening, when I got home from work, the house was empty. I figured she’d probably be back, but I also figured I probably had a couple hours. As per my custom, I ditched my work clothes, and fired up the computer. Right away I noticed that the browser history had changed. Ok, she’d been checking her email and whatnot. Then I looked closer and saw that she had been to a bunch of porn sites I wasn’t familiar with. Of course, I had to check it out.

Her taste in porn was clearly not my own. She seemed to favor video clips of porn-star looking women getting energetically nailed by porn-star looking dudes. Not really my cup of tea. I went on to browse my own sites: bookish, slightly chubby girl-next door types getting shyly naked; and geeky, tattooed gay boys getting it on with each other.

And then, as usual, one thing led to another. I got the Narwhale out and warmed it between my thighs. I ditched my panties entirely, and fetched out my toy bag and the bottle of lube. While I was at it, I poured myself a glass of wine. Might as well make a party out of it.

The Narwhale is a beast. He is one-of-a-kind, bigger than any penis has the right to be– not quite scary big, but definitely right on the edge of what’s comfortably possible. An artist friend of mine with access to a CNC lathe made him for me out of stainless steel. He must weight seven pounds, with exaggerated features that create interesting textures: bulging veins, a pronounced, flaring glans. He retains heat really well, and takes lube like a piston. After you’ve been fucked by the Narwhale, as the boys like to say, you know you’ve been fucked.

I put a video on that looked hot, expanded it to full screen. A skinny, younger guy, with black, mussed-up hair and glasses who was improbably well-hung, gave a good impression of being inexperienced and nervous. He was paired with an hard-faced older guy: crew cut, tattoos, and muscles; not as ridiculously dicked as the skinny kid, but still formidable.

They were in a basement somewhere, a cluttered, dingy basement. The scene was poorly lit. They horsed around a little bit, then Old Guy made Skinny Kid suck his cock. That was pretty hot. Then Old Guy relented and did some licking and kissing and nibbling of his own. They were both pretty clearly turned on, and I was right there with them.

I lubed up and slipped my anal beads up my butt, one after another, as Old Guy maneuvered Skinny Kid into position, bent over a filthy old radiator. The beads felt nice and squirmy and naughty up my ass. I rubbed the Narwhale up and down my vulva, spreading the lube all over my cunt, tormenting myself. This was going to be hot.

He took aim, and carefully skewered the Skinny Kid, impaling him, inexorably grinding forward like some bizarre sexual bulldozer, until he was balls deep in the poor moaning, squirming, sweaty kid’s asshole.

I mirrored them, bearing down on the Narwhale, shoving it up my slippery cunt, full to the point of bursting, the beads in my ass rattling around obnoxiously.

It was then that I noticed her watching. She was standing in the hall, just outside the room, half-hidden by the door. From where she was standing, she had a prime view of me masturbating.

Normally, when I get to this point, the pressure of the dildo stretching my pussy and interacting with the toy in my ass is plenty: I ride the wave, delicately petting my clit with one finger until I explode. I took a different tack this time.

I rolled over onto my hands and knees, my tits hanging down, one hand on the Narwhale to keep it from popping out of my cunt like an artillery shell. I aimed my posterior at the doorway where she stood watching, took the Narwhale in both hands, and started working it violently, shoving it in and out, in time with the gay boys on my computer monitor. The dildo squelched as it invaded my body; pressing hard against the roots of my clit and bumping into my cervix, it sent waves of shuddering pleasure coursing through my body. I moaned out loud, losing myself in it, fucking myself hard, harder, harder yet. I shut my eyes even as the guys fucked, buried my face in the pillow and came, grinding hard and viciously. It left me gasping and quivering, curled up in a tender, sweaty little ball. She was nowhere to be seen.

I don’t know where she went during the days. Maybe she went to school, but upon consideration that didn’t seem very likely. She watched me masturbate most evenings; I made sure she caught me, and she made no real attempt to conceal herself. Sometimes I’d be nude, sometimes my panties would be bunched up around my knees; sometimes I’d use the Narwhale, sometimes a humming little vibrator, sometimes I just let my fingers softly roam. Sometimes there would be porn playing in the background, sometimes not. When I orgasmed, I let myself come extra loud, just for her.

My phone bill was out of control, with long calls to numbers I didn’t know in places I’d never been: Quebec City, Montreal, Lisbon, Sao Paolo. The contents of my liquor cabinet dwindled, and yet I said nothing.

A Saturday morning, a warm and sunny early spring morning. When I left for my ride, she was asleep on the couch, snoring softly, still wearing the clothes she’d had on lthe night before. By the time I got back, sweaty and grimy from the road, the couch was empty except for the mussed-up sheets and a crumpled blanket.

The bathroom door was closed, and the shower was running.

I stripped out of my crusty jersey, my damp spandex.

In the bathroom, the water was running hot and steamy. She smiled through the curtain when she saw me. She was still too skinny, and there were purple and blue bruises on her upper arms and thighs. She had smallish, up-turned breasts, the kind with large brown-pink aureole, and her nipples were mere dimples. Her pussy was shaved bare but for a little tuft of hair just above her fleshy crease.

We embraced under the cascade of hot water, breast upon breast, stomachs touching, my pubic hair pressed against her mons. I reached down and stroked her pussy with one finger tip, traversing the seam of her vulva all the way back to the crack of her ass.

She turned to face the tile wall, water streaming down her back. I knelt behind her. She had a gorgeous ass, like a ripe, pale peach. Was my own butt that fine when I was her age? I thought not. Gently, carefully, as if I were afraid of damaging them, I parted her cheeks.

I licked up and down her ass crack, the hot water running down her spine into my nose and mouth, mixing in with the earthy, feminine taste of her posterior. Her asshole was small, shy, delicate. I attacked it with the tip of my tongue, probing, forcing my way inside. She yielded, humping back against me, pushing her ass into my face as my tongue drilled deeper and deeper up her anus.

My finger insinuated itself up her pussy as I licked her asshole. She was wet inside, slick and hot and wet. She was rubbing her clit as I tongued her, one hand reaching behind, tugging on my wet hair. My own neglected cunt was drooling into the tub.

She came, my tongue buried in her asshole, my finger beckoning ‘come-hither’ inside her pussy. She came with a hiccupping series of little gasps or grunts. I fell back onto my ass in the tub, my knees parting wide. She turned to watch while I fingered myself to a long, wet, wracking orgasm.

The afternoon meeting turned into a forced death march. I tuned out the Power Point presentation, amusing myself by thinking about what might happen when I got home. I imagined pulling her panties off with my teeth, inhaling her scent, teasing and tormenting her with my tongue. I imagined her copper-red locks spread out on my lap as she licked me, cupping my ass with both hands as her tongue danced on my erect clit, trying earnestly to bring me off. I imagined fucking her with the Narwhale, her babbling incoherently as I stuffed the big hard steel dildo up her wet cunt, fucking her with it with one hand while I yanked mercilessly on her hair with the other.

By the time the meeting got out, it was dark outside, and my panties were damp. I’d ridden my bike to work that morning; now I had to ride home. It started to rain, and I nearly got splatted by a bus.

She wasn’t there when I got home. The house reeked of cigarette and marijuana smoke. My bedroom had been rifled through. My underwear drawer had been dumped out. My wallet had been emptied: driver’s license, credit cards, and some two-hundred dollars cash were gone. My toys were spilled out all over the bed. The Narwhale, an expensive rechargeable vibrator, and a pair of real police handcuffs were missing.

I started calling the credit card companies to report my cards missing. As I sat there on the crumpled sheets, listening to banal hold music and assurances of how important my call was to them, my hand found its way inside my heavy, rain-wet pants, and I idly began to masturbate.

post-script

I don’t remember where I found the link exactly.

I have gotten over her, moved on, and though I still occasionally grieve for the loss of my Narwhale, I don’t waste much time moping over it.

I love riding my bike in a skirt, especially in the spring time. I get a petty semi-exhibitionist thrill out of it. Some days I wad up my panties and stuff them into my backpack, and ride home commando-style. I like the feeling of the fresh air on my pussy, the sense of being naughtily semi-naked in public, and I love the idea that anyone I pass might be catching an utterly pornographic crotch shot if they just happen to look up at the right moment. By the time I get home, I am primed and ready to go.

It’s my standard after-work routine: hang up the bike in the hallway; fire up the computer; pour a glass of wine and hike up the skirt; mouse in one hand, the other hand between my thighs, free to roam. One link leads to another, the beer diminishes, and the slippery situation between my legs becomes even more so. I throw one leg up on the arm of my desk chair and spread my lips, penetrating myself with one slick finger. The next video starts, fuzzy and amateurish.

And with a start like a kick in the tits, I recognize my bedroom, my bed. Those are my down pillows; the red sheets are my sheets, neatly made up, the camera held by an unsteady hand.

She tumbles into the frame as if thrown. Her hands are cuffed together in front of her. She goes sprawling, giggling across the bed like a felled tree. Her eyes seem glassy, as if stoned, but it may simply be my imagination. She doesn’t seem unhappy about her predicament. No not at all, not one bit.

Two guys enter the scene, one on either side of the bed. They are not particularly attractive men, not in my book. Why do they always find the skeeviest guys to do heterosexual porn? The skinny dude has a crew cut and a lot of mismatched tattoos. He has a beer belly that doesn’t sit well on his frame. His dick is hard, and curves aggressively upward. The other man is thicker, reminiscent of a hard-boiled egg. He looks greasy, and has a pony tail. His balls hang down heavily, and his cock is also erect.

They pry her legs apart. She is already wet, her shaved pussy a blooming flower. They roughly finger her cunt, pinch and slap her breasts, shove their fingers up her tiny asshole, calling her rude names all the while: Cunt, Bitch, Slut, Whore. She wriggles, giggles, writhes, and moans.

There are no condoms involved. They drop her legs and then separate. Greasy Guy straddles her face, back to the camera, shoves his cock down her throat. He grabs her curly copper locks and starts humping, rocking his hips back and forth as she gurgles and gags, taking his meat all the way to his pendulous balls. He looks almost bored: in other context he would look like a middle-aged participant in some naked Jazzercise class.

Skinny Dude takes a knee in each hand and starts fucking her. He buries his cock in her cunt, pulls it out, bouncing and glistening with her juice, and then jams it back in. He turns and grins at the camera. She appears to be lost in a fog of ecstasy. He is fucking her like his cock is a fist and she is a punching bag. I wish he would lean forward and rim his partner a little bit while he is at it, but there is not chance of that. Her legs kick wildly in the air, and her mouth and cunt stuffed full of cock.

On some off-camera signal signal, they stop, pull out. She is left flopping, like a fish torn suddenly from the water. Greasy Guy slaps her face with his erection, left-right, left-right. He looks distracted, bored, just another day at the office. Skinny Dude retrieves the Narwhale from underneath the bed. Without any ceremony, he jams the big steel toy straight up her pussy. She grunts as if punched. He shoves it in and out a few times, making as if he were reaming out a pipe, or swabbing out the barrel of a cannon. Then he spreads her pretty butt cheeks, spits on her asshole, and sticks his bent erection straight up her ass.

Her cuffed hands are doing their best to keep the toy inside while he spastically fucks her ass. He is fucking her to come now, you can tell that. There is a violence to his fucking that appalls and excites me. She is making guttural noises, grunts and whimpers. Skinny Dude’s face is contorted into a sneer, a twisted parody of passion.

Another signal from off-stage. Greasy Guy starts jerking off, as fast as he can, pointing his dick at her face like a gun. Her head is raised in anticipation. With a girly yelp, he shoots off: long, ropey, sticky white strands of come spattering all over her cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, into her open mouth and eyes and up her nose. At almost the same time, Skinny Guy pulls his cock out of her grasping asshole, squirting his pearly come all over her back, all the way up to her pale shoulder blades. She is fucking herself with the Narwhale, bearing down on it with everything she’s got, the cuffs digging into her wrists, leaving livid red dents that will turn into vicious bruises. She turns her face away from the camera as she starts to come, and the guys milk their wilting dicks onto her violently twitching body as the screen fades to black and ends in an advertisement for some website that I will never ever join.

It is not my kind of porn, not at all. And yet. I have watched the video over and over again until I have it memorized. Every move, every detail. I masturbate to it obsessively, and when I come, I time my orgasm to coincide with hers.

She is too young, too skinny, lost at sea in an ocean of storm-tossed waves. I am locked in an insurgency with my credit rating: someone in Macon, Georgia tries to buy a string of foreclosed-upon houses using my identity; somebody in Lithuania charges several thousand dollars worth of high-end consumer electronics to my credit card. I wish I had never met her. And yet, despite everything, I wish her well.

END

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Dad Quest

March 20, 2011 at 5:06 am · Filed under erotica, incest, sex ·Tagged anal, anal sex, daddy, erotica, fantasy, incest, sex

After my mom passed away, I did go a little crazy.

It had always been just the two of us together: single mother and only daughter. Her parents had cut her out of their lives when she got knocked up, and the guy who made her pregnant, my dad, was just never a part of the picture.

The cancer started out in her left breast, and it spread like a dirty rumor, until her whole body was cancerous. Even her tumors had tumors. About the only positive thing I can say about her passing is that she didn’t suffer very long.

I dropped out of college; I simply stopped attending my classes. I started collecting knives and Japanese throwing stars. I made myself a garrote, a three-foot length of sixteenth-inch diameter aircraft cable with a swaged loop at either end for handles, wrapped in duct tape, that I carried with me at all times, coiled up in my purse. I stopped taking my birth control. I studied anatomy textbooks with bad intent. I masturbated myself to sleep late at night to Green Beret field manuals and practiced throwing my shuriken at male pornography taped up on my apartment wall.

Like I said, I’d gone a little crazy. I’m better now. I’d like to think I achieved some kind of catharsis.

Mom never finished high school; she dropped out before I was born. I graduated at the top of my class, and at the time my mom died I was the only female math major at my university. (That’s not actually saying that much; there were only seven math majors in the whole department.)

I decided to find my dad: find him, fuck him, and kill him.

Getting his name was the easy part; I had my mother’s yearbook from when she was a sophomore, the last year she had gone to school. They had signed each other’s pictures. “Love Always’ she had written; “Yer a babe!” he had scrawled under her photo.

I guess I could see why she had been attracted to him. He was a Bad Boy, obviously. In the photo, he wore a defiant sneer and a backwards-facing baseball cap, and his head was tilted back at a sardonic angle, just daring the camera to come a little closer. He was a skinny little dude with a face that reminded me of a ferret and the shadow of a mustache haunting his upper lip. He looked like the type of guy who might carjack you with a switchblade. I looked and looked at the little black-and-white photograph for a long time, but I couldn’t see myself in that face, not at all.

Finding his name was easy; finding the man wasn’t so simple. It wasn’t as if he had a Facebook page, and there were three Dan G_____s listed in the city white pages, none of whom was he.

Fortunately for me, Pops had a bunch of credit card debt; and a friend of mine who was a computer science major was able to extract his home address and place of employment. He lived in an old industrial town about 90 minutes upstate, and he worked at a metal extruding factory. He was the second shift foreman.

I started hanging out in upstate redneck bars. I guess I was surprised at how little I got hit on, but in retrospect I suppose I shouldn’t have been. A twenty-two year old girl with an obvious chip on her shoulder, wearing an old army jacket and black jeans and combat boots drinking jack-and-cokes alone spells one thing: Trouble.

Anyway, it didn’t take me long to find him. It was the Easy Street bar, a rather banal little dive a few miles down the road from his factory, where they had classic rock on the jukebox and Budweiser on tap.

When he came in, I didn’t recognize him right away. The years had not been kind to him. He had probably put on a hundred pounds since that ratty-ass sophomore picture had been taken 22 years ago; it wasn’t concentrated in a big beer gut, his body had just gotten thick. He had a high forehead and thinning salt-and-pepper hair, and he wore a gold stud in his left earlobe. It looked like he’d done a lot of rough living since he’d knocked my mom up.

The thing that gave him away were the eyes. As soon as I saw those sad, deep-set, sea-grey eyes, I knew it was him. They were the same eyes I saw every morning when I looked in the mirror.

He wasn’t popular with the crew. I’d already heard talk in the bars: he was a hard-ass boss, a tough case, a prick to work for, an intolerant, humorless sonofabitch. Looking at him, I doubted that he had any friends at all. He came to the Easy Street most nights after his shift, eight-ish; sat by himself at the bar; had two beers; and drove home. Alone.

I watched him and watched him, over the course of a week, and then I put my plan into effect.

I left my car sitting at the park-and-ride, and walked the three or so miles along dark, sidewalk-less back country roads to Easy Street. The bartender recognized me by now, and set me up with a jack-and-coke.

He was late. I was worried that he wasn’t coming at all; some nights he didn’t.

It was nearly ten before he showed up, wearing a frown that could sink a battleship. He sat down heavily at the bar, emitting a long drawn-out sigh that reminded me of the hydraulic brakes on a big rig.

“Rough day?” I asked.

“Rough day,” he snorted. His hands reminded me of bear paws: huge and hairy, stained black with oil and metal grease. “Rough day. Two guys call in sick and one shows up drunk, and of course we get a big order in late in the day.” He looked at me quizzically, “Who’s askin’ anyway?”

“Let me buy you a drink” I nodded to the bartender, who fetched Pops a tall, frosty cold one.

“So we get this big order for box-tube, and of course the freaking die breaks, and I have to change it out myself, which is a freaking bitch, and then it’s late and none of the guys want to do overtime, so I’m stuck running the freaking machine myself, which is hard work and freaking dangerous… safety third, that’s our company motto.”

While I listened to him talk, nodding sympathetically at appropriate pauses, I was picturing him fucking me: me flat on my back with my legs wrapped around his pale ass, his big dick pistoning in and out of my pussy, humping me like a big hairy cartoon ape, grunting and snorting as he fucked. I wanted to murder him, to feel him blow his last breath in my face even as his cock twitched inside my cunt.

My panties were now distinctly moist. I shifted the way I was sitting on the barstool, bringing my knees close to, but not quite in contact with his. He finished his beer and got another. He bought me a drink too, and that was when I knew I was in. I let my hand settle on his thigh. He jumped, startled, at the touch, but didn’t move away.

“Could I get a ride?” I asked when he had finished his second beer.

“Where you going?”

“Where do you want to take me?” I asked.

I sat next to him in the passenger seat of a tan Ford station wagon that was older than me. I wondered if he’d owned that car when he was dating my mother. I wondered if he’d fucked her in the back seat, directly behind where I was sitting.

Of course I’d fantasized about doing it slowly, getting him to let me handcuff him to his bed, and then sitting astride him, engulfing his cock with my cunt before taking fingers and toes and ears and maybe his nose with my knife while he screamed and bucked and protested beneath me, unwittingly bringing me to orgasm after orgasm as he struggled. I knew it wasn’t going to go down like that; I intended to do this and to get away with it, and that meant doing the job quick and quiet; but it was a nice fantasy.

I wasn’t sure if I would call his place a house, or a shack. It was a tiny, single-story structure, overhung with trees. In the moonlight, the roof looked like it was sagging dangerously.

“I don’t bring many women home with me,” he allowed, “’scuse me if the place is a mess.”

It actually wasn’t that bad, for a single dude’s apartment. There were a bunch of hot rod and heavy metal posters straight out of the ‘80s. Tidy stacks of magazines: Popular Mechanics, and Hot Rod, and Penthouse, and Hustler. A very dusty, very old bowling trophy. A couple of plastic model cars. His clothes for the remainder of the week were laid out folded on top of his dresser. It was kind of cute, actually.

He wanted me. I could tell, and he was nervous about it, he didn’t know how to proceed. Ha! Of course I was going to fuck him, why else would I have let him take me home? I wondered how long it had been since he’d been with a girl. My handbag felt heavy with the weight of my marine Ka-Bar knife and the garrote. I had a Sog tactical dagger in a boot sheath in my Doc Martins and a tiny illegal switchblade in my jeans pocket. I felt like I was ready for anything.

I imagined Pops fucking me, skewering my juicy young pussy on his gnarly old dick, huffing and puffing as it slid in and out, the veins in his forehead bulging out with the effort. I imagined fucking back against him, whispering encouragement, playing with my clit and pulling on my nipples as he fucked me. I imagined him coming, his eyes locked on mine, his face red, his belly jiggling, his cock pistoning spasmodically. I imagined grabbing the marine combat knife out of my handbag by the bed just as he squirted his incestuous sperm into my cunt, and sliding the huge sharp wicked blade deep into his solar plexus, just under his rib cage, seeing those sad sea-grey eyes bulge out with shock and confusion right in middle of his orgasm. I imagined myself coming, bathed in his sticky red blood, as he croaked out his last breaths, his cock still frantically jerking around inside my cunt as his bulk settled on top of me, dead.

I imagined letting him fuck me, and after he was done, asking him very sweetly to go down on me, to lick his hot daddy come out of my tight little girl pussy. Of course he would. I’d set my legs on his shoulders and let him do his thing. He might be pretty good at it too. When I felt like the time was ripe, when I was good and wet and close to coming on his tongue, I’d fish out the switchblade knife. I’d reach down and stick it into his neck, breaking the skin, pressing the tip of the blade up against his carotid artery. “Lick me good Daddy,” I’d purr at him, “Lick me real good.” And he would. He’d lick my pussy frantically, hoping that if he did a good enough job it would save his life. When I came, I’d give the knife a vicious jerk, severing the artery, and he’d look up at me with wide, wide eyes, mouth silently opening and shutting, face covered in my slimy juices, his life blood squirting out of his neck with every pump of his heart, squirting up and onto me, all over my heaving tits as I rubbed myself off to a long, body-wracking, protracted orgasm.

I imagined letting him fuck me, fuck me as long and as hard and nasty as he wanted, letting him do whatever he pleased with my lithe young body, until his come was all over me and inside me, and he was tired and satisfied. I pictured him getting up to use the bathroom, and me sneaking up quietly behind him, and slipping the garrote around his neck and throttling him while he peed. I imagined leaving his lifeless naked body crumpled across the toilet in his dingy little bathroom, and me hiking quietly back to my own car. I wondered how long it would be before someone found his body.

He asked me if I’d like a drink, a beer or some water or anything. I pressed myself boldly against him, bolder than I’d ever behaved with a guy before, letting my breast brush against his chest and putting an arm around his waist. I told him I could think of something I wanted. I let my hand traverse down the front of his jeans. He smelled of work: hot metal and oil and sweat. I kind of liked that smell. It was kind of sexy.

There was a nice bulge in the crotch of his jeans, and I gave it a friendly squeeze. His hand found mine, and our fingers interlaced. He was so nervous he was trembling. I could feel his heart beating, and it was fast, fast. Wouldn’t it be the ultimate irony if the poor guy had a heart attack on me?

We maneuvered into his bedroom. It was pretty neat and tidy for a guy’s room. The bed was made. There was an open Penthouse magazine lying on the floor by the bed, and I made a point of squealing and picking it up. “Oooh naked girls!” I flopped onto his bed. The mattress was small and rather hard and lumpy. I flipped the magazine open to a spread of two heavily made-up models with scary long fingernails getting it on in a hot tub. The blonde girl’s tongue was outstretched, close to, but not quite in contact with the brunette’s carefully manicured pussy. “Oooh, sexy!” I cooed, “Do you think it’s hot when girls do that? I do.” I looked up at him, suddenly mock-concerned. “Do you like girls with big boobs?” I indicated my own not-exactly tiny rack.

“I think what you’ve got is just fine,” he said, “As a matter of fact, I think you’re beautiful.”

“Really?” I said, tossing the porn mag aside, “You really think so? Do I remind you of anyone?”

He looked thoughtful and confused, a look that quickly evaporated as I took off my top and bra and wriggled out of my jeans.

I went to work on removing his pants. He had tighty-whities on underneath. My pussy salivated as I tugged them off, exposing my Daddy’s goods to the harsh light of the incandescent overhead light.

He was only halfway hard. His cock hung down, thick and sluggish, in front of a fat pair of balls. The head was purple, and a long strand of pre-come was leaking out the tip. His balls were heavy and hairy.

I playfully flicked my tongue, licking the salty head of his dick, and his cock jerked at my touch. I was going to enjoy this immensely.

I took the whole, semi-soft thing into my mouth, sucking hard and swirling my tongue around, making popping and slurping noises with my mouth. I cupped his balls with my hand, squeezing gently. My other hand caressed his backside, exploring his crack, petting bolder and bolder into the forbidden territory of his ass, daring him to beg me to go further. His cock responded eagerly, swelling like a nature-documentary time lapse, blossoming into full hardness until my mouth could no longer contain him. It was nice and big, and had an upward curve, and the head strained eagerly out toward me. I softly tickled his asshole with one finger and dragged my tongue up along the underside of his cock, tracing the big vein, from the base all the way up to his pee hole. I looked up at him and grinned toothily.

He took off his shirt and pulled off his socks. His belly wasn’t really that big, he was just a thick man. There was a tangled nest of dark hair on his chest that straggled down to his crotch in a furry, meandering line. He had a long, white scar on one shoulder.

I pulled off my own panties. The crotch was definitely wet, and my cunt was pleasantly squooshy. My clit felt hot and swollen, nestled in between my pussy lips.

I should have made him use a condom; I had no idea what I’d do if he got me pregnant and who knows where he’d stuck that penis of his in all the years since he’d impregnated mom; for that matter he should have insisted on a condom: he had no idea where my pussy had been and what I might be infected with. But that wasn’t the way I wanted it, and apparently neither did he.

I lay flat on my back on his lumpy single bed, my legs splayed obscenely apart. He clambered on top of me, guiding his erection carefully with one hand, aiming it with the care and concentration of a skilled mechanic.

I sighed involuntarily as he penetrated me. His cock entered my body slowly, steadily, inexorably. It had been rather a long time since I’d had an honest fucking, and no matter what they say, it feels totally different when the guy isn’t wearing a condom. I could feel every texture of his cock as it moved inside me. My own father was fucking me and I was so turned on it ached. I could now officially register myself as a pervert.

He started fucking me, excruciatingly slowly, like a steam engine chugging up to speed. His eyes were narrow slits focused on mine. His thrusts were powerful, they made the bed shake, they made my tits bounce up and down. My cunt was humping back against his cock, meeting his every thrust. I could feel his balls slapping against my ass. His breathing was hard and ragged, and so was mine.

Shit, I was going to come! I couldn’t believe it, but it was sneaking up on me, overwhelming me. Penis-in-vagina sex doesn’t usually get me off, especially without a lot of extensive, kinky foreplay first. I wanted him to come along with me. I wanted his DNA inside me, for it to meet up with my DNA, and for my egg to kick his sperm’s ass. I kicked my legs frantically, lolling my head from side to side, arching my back and gurgling incoherently as he chug-chugged along, fucking my slippery wet pussy like a god-damned pussy fucking machine.

I don’t know when I’ve come that hard or that long before. My whole body tingled pleasantly; all the hair on my arms was standing on end; my nipples stuck out like sore thumbs; my clit felt distended and hyper-sensitized.

He was still inside me, still hard, but he was no longer moving.

“Did you come?” I asked.

“No,” he said sounding a little embarrassed, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to. It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this.”

“Take me from behind” I said.

I rolled over onto all fours, and he slid his dick back up my juicy pussy. He started over again, fucking me like a potato masher. I encouraged him to fondle my breasts and slap my ass and tug on my hair. I wanted him to fuck me straight to hell. I wanted him to take me and use me the way he had taken and used my mother. He obliged, fucking me for what seemed like hours on end. He fucked me until it started to hurt. Still, he showed no sign of slowing down or getting off.

“Do you want to fuck me up the ass?”

“You mean anal sex?” he asked.

“That’s right,” I said, wiggling my butt seductively.

“I’ve never done that before…”

“I think you should do it to me now” I told him.

“I’ll be gentle” he said.

“Just fuck my ass” I said.

He pulled out of my tender pussy and nudged his slick cock against my puckered asshole. I blew out a long breath as the thick, bulbous head muscled its way through my tight sphincter.

I buried my face in the pillow, panting and growling as he butt-fucked me. I was stretched taut, filled up, invaded, pummeled from behind. I reveled in the pervertedness of it, my own daddy was sodomizing my asshole. My fingers found my swollen clitoris and I was coming again, coming in choking, gasping jerks as he fucked my ass.

“I can’t,” he panted at last, “I can’t come. I’m not going to be able to. I’m sorry.”

He carefully pulled his cock out of my poor battered little asshole. His face was all red and covered with a sheen of sweat. He was breathing hard, and the veins in his neck stuck out.

“Then masturbate for me,” I told him, “jerk off onto me.”

I lay on my back and he straddled my chest. He took his cock in hand. It was shiny wet with my juice, and red from the exertion. He squeezed it tight, painfully-looking tight, and started stroking himself with that vise-like grip. Slowly at first, then faster and faster and faster until his hand was a blur and the head of his cock looked like it was ready to explode. His big balls and his belly jiggled as he pumped. His penis was aimed at me like a loaded shotgun.

Finally he croaked out “Oh… oh… oh!” His hand froze, mid-stroke on his cock. His back arched and his eyes went wide.

The first squirt caught me on the cheek and across my nose. The next splashed onto my neck. More landed on my breasts. It was an awful lot of come. He milked the last pearly-white drops out of his shrinking dick onto my tits. I felt like I was covered in the stuff. He sat next to me on the bed, breathing hard. I dipped my finger into the slick of come on my breast, and brought my finger to my lips. His semen was salty and bitter and warm. I licked my finger clean and swallowed. My father was inside me.

We fell asleep side by side on the narrow bed. He snored like an old V-8 engine idling. One of his heavy arms was thrown across my chest.

We only slept for a few hours. When we woke up, grey light was filtering in through the window. The sun was just rising behind a heavy layer of clouds.

“I gotta get ready for work” my dad said.

“I’ve got to get going.” I said.

He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Will I see you again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Listen,” he said to me, “Listen. I’ve got a little girl out there somewhere, a daughter I never got to meet. She’d be about your age now. I’ve wasted my life. Don’t waste yours.”

I got dressed and left him there. I walked the three or four miles back to the park and ride. My dad’s come was dry on my face and chest, sticking to my shirt and flaking off. The clouds were low and grey and heavy, and it started to rain. The cold drops mixed in with the warm salty tears that ran down my cheeks.

END

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