CYA 6

With a sigh, you go on past your dad’s study. You strip off your clothes and step into the familiar warmth of the shower. Your cock is already hard. You grasp it in one sudsy, slippery hand, thinking hazy thoughts about the girls at school and the warm, mysterious, fuzzy place between their legs. When the mother-of-pearl comes, your back arches in ecstasy, and you rise up on tiptoe, squirting milky white semen all over the shower stall. How can something that feels so good be so wrong?

The last traces of sin are washed down the drain, and you towel off and get dressed in plenty of time for your parents to get home.

You graduate from high school, and go on to college where you get a degree in civil engineering. You marry a nice girl who you suspect is smarter than you are. You lose your virginity on your wedding night, discovering that sex, while enjoyable, is nowhere near as much fun as you had anticipated.

Your wife bears you two children. You try for a third, but she miscarries several times. Your son does moderately well in life, and you are proud of him. Your daughter is a bit of a problem, disobedient and promiscuous, and ends up sold to the barachi.

You live a longish and perfectly ordinary life.

END

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CYA 7

You should have plenty of time before either of your parents get home. Knowing that what you are about to do is wrong, that it could get you into the worst kind of trouble, you do it anyway. Careful not to touch anything else, you snag your dad’s VR rig, and bring it up to your room.

When you slip the helmet on over your head, you are immediately presented with a trio of women, virtually identical except for the color of their hair: a redhead, a blonde, and a brunette. Each is naked, with a pair of oversized breasts, and a hairless, hourglass-shaped body. Your dad doesn’t have a lot of imagination in the sexual fantasy department, but there is no time to fiddle with the controls, so it will have to do. You slide the sleeve attachment over your already hard cock, and are immediately overwhelmed with sensation.

You are sucking the blonde lady’s big tits and playing with her pussy while the redhead and the brunette take turns sucking your cock. It all feels so real: so amazingly warm and wet!

You are just about to come, your cock buried impossibly deep in the red-haired lady’s throat, when you hear an angry shout from somewhere outside this world, and then a stab of pain as the helmet is yanked off your head and you are slapped across the face.

Unfortunately, your cock chooses this exact moment to shoot off, and your precious mother-of-pearl squirts out the end of the VR tube, splattering all over your tummy and chest.

Your father is standing over you, wearing a scowl of disapproval. Your mother stands in the door, her face a mask of tragic disappointment. Your dad grabs you by the hair and drags you down the stairs and into the front yard, where he hoses you down with the garden hose, washing away all traces of your sin.

You are bundled naked into the back of your parent’s SUV, and driven straight to the barachi embassy.

The next few hours are a blur. You vividly remember the humiliation of standing soaking wet and naked on the sidewalk outside the embassy, your cock shrinking and your balls trying to climb back up inside you as passers-by stare curiously while your Dad negotiates entry. You are brought inside, and plastic restraints are placed on your ankles and wrists. You are given a shot of something to calm you down –at some point you had started crying and begging hysterically. Your patents must have left; you never see them again. You are taken to a holding cell, brightly lit and sterile, and left alone in your misery.

There is nothing special to remember about the shuttle flight, other than the deafening noise and teeth-rattling vibration of launch, and the crushing g-forces as you arc up through the sky. Part of you hopes for an anomaly, an explosion that would end the nightmare in a brief bright flash of flames. But no such luck.

The artificial gravity makes you feel queasy, as if you had spent too much time on the whirling teacups at the amusement park. You’ll never get completely used to it, you’ll feel perpetually off-balance from here out, but the most intense nausea passes after the first few days.

Once aboard the outpost, you are brought into some kind of operating room, where a drone is waiting for you.

You can tell it is a drone, because of his size (he wasn’t much taller than you), and because he lacks wings. He hums and clicks mechanically as he secures your head between his middle appendages and paints an antiseptic gel on your lips with his upper arms while the lower pair fusses with surgical tools. (You knew it was a ‘he’ because no human has ever seen a female barachi.)

Barachi don’t feel pain, so they aren’t particularly sensitive about the sensation in species who do. They do, however, have very sensitive hearing organs on their thorax. Apparently human screaming causes them agitation and discomfort. Once you are fully prepped, the drone begins wiring your jaw shut, and rearranging and extracting teeth. Finally, he takes a long, curved surgical needle and polymer thread, and proceeds to sew your lips together, pausing in the middle to insert a stainless-steel straw into your mouth, through which you will consume your nutrition. The pain is terrible, you would have said unbearable, except that it goes on and on: tiny careful stitches close together, sealing your mouth tight around the metal drinking tube. Almost as bad as the pain are the sounds that the needle makes as it punctures and pierces through layers of tissue.

Finally, the drone is done with his task. With a hum and a click, he wipes the blood off your face with a sani-wipe, and leaves you, sobbing silently, chest shaking, tears running down your cheeks and falling to the floor in the parabolic curve of artificial gravity.

They must have put some kind of drug into the slurry they fed you through the straw, because things go blank for a while.

You are naked. There is no need for clothing here. Your balls are tender and swollen: your feed is laced with hormones. A drone leads you from your sleeping chamber to a large, brightly-lit room. He locks your ankles, wrists, and head, not uncomfortably, but securely, to a polymer frame. An instrument of some sort is inserted into your anus. You wince as the drone shoves the bullet-shaped plug in, past the opening, where it stays, securely lodged. It feels pleasantly unpleasant, and your asshole is tender and stretched out. The thing vibrates back there, making the roots of your cock hum, and you find that you are incongruously erect.

There are other men and boys in the room, similarly secured. Some of them are sporting erections. Some have bulging, grotesquely oversized scrotums. You can’t really look around because of the way your head is clamped in place; and in any case your attention is now focused on the thing immediately in front of you.

It is a full male barachi. He towers over you, much bigger and taller than you are. His exoskeleton is a livid, poisonous green. His gossamer wings are fully extended from his carapace, indicating fertility. Six small, red eyes travel up and down your naked body, sizing you up. His mandibles slowly open and close. An ovipositor juts out from his thorax, like a whip or a sabre, a wickedly sharp long and thin armored and segmented parody of a penis. Despite yourself, your cock stains out from your body toward him.

One pair of appendages grasps your penis with surprising dexterity, another pair is wrapped like tungsten-steel around your midsection and a third pair is manipulating your balls. His mandibles clack excitedly. He spears you with one cruel thrust, inserting his long, slender, barbed sex organ straight up your urethra.

The pain is beyond comprehension. You scream through the straw, through sealed lips, and twist and struggle to escape. Methodically, he pushes deeper and deeper inside you, his ovipositor worming its way through your inner plumbing. Your penis feels like it is being torn apart from the inside. Cruel, barbed spikes project from his ovipositor, raking the inside of your urethra. You will piss blood for a week. Finally, an unpleasant sinking feeling deep inside you lets you know that the end of his tube has finally reached your balls.

He thrusts mechanically, in and out. His beady, multi-faceted red eyes seem to glitter with excitement. His wings rattle and quiver.

Finally, he explodes. You can feel it, deep deep inside your ball sac. The barachi are a parasitic species: the queen, in a chamber somewhere on the station, gives the males eggs to fertilize. The males hold the eggs in a special internal sac until they deposit them in a host. Dozens of slimy ova, the size of fish eggs, are squirted into your scrotum. Retro-enzymes and mimetic hormones go to work, and the eggs latch on to your testes, where they will consume your nutrients and grow. Already alien cells are replicated, growing inside you.

His task done, the male barachi withdraws his spines. With a shrug reminiscent of a post-orgasmic human male, he pulls his ovipositor out of you, and tucks it back inside his exoskeleton. Red blood and greenish slime gush out of your wounded cunt. You gasp and retch, trying not to puke inside your sealed mouth.

The drone leads you back to your cell, where you pass out. While you sleep, a suction cup is placed over your cock: from now on your mother-of-pearl will be milked from you and fed to the grubs.

Sex play is actually encouraged between hosts. Stimulation increases blood flow to the testicles and promotes semen production. No words are ever exchanged, no licks or kisses. Three grown men gang up on you, one holding you by the hair and another pinning your arms while the other boldly fingers your asshole. You aren’t quite sure if it is rape, because at some point it actually becomes quite enjoyable, even when they take turns fucking your ass. The experience leaves you horny, hard, and confused. Another guy, an attractive fellow about your own age, shyly shows you how to hold his cock, and wordlessly you jerk each other off.

Your ball sac quickly grows and swells, almost to the point of bursting. It is almost to walk now, or even to stand upright for long, because of the basketball-sized growth between your legs.

Some male barachi enjoy coupling with hosts while they are ‘pregnant’. Whether this is because they enjoy the sensations, or just out of rank cruelty, you don’t know. Sometimes they like to hold a guy buy his throat with their mandibles until the points penetrate the skin and the blood flows and runs down their chest. This can result in grave injury, infection, and if the male barachi isn’t careful, death. Fortunately, this does not happen to you during your first hosting.

A drone leads you back into the insemination room. Your scrotum is bulging obscenely, the things inside you are squirming like a sack full of hyenas. You can actually see them moving inside, which is stomach-turning. You are strapped into the rack not a moment too soon: your body convulses as a powerful contraction wracks through you. First one, then another and another and another squirms through your urethra and out the end of your penis, falling with a plop onto the floor. The larvae are light green and limbless, each one about the size of a marshmallow. More and more of them worm their way out of you, maybe a dozen in total.

Some combination of their texture, the wriggling pressure against your prostate the instrument in your anus, the way your cock is stretched, and the cocktail of artificial hormones sets you off. You’ve never had an orgasm like this before, completely separate from ejaculation. It is incredibly intense, and it goes on and on as the grubs squirm their way out of your body. The sensation is insidiously addictive. As soon as it is over you want more.

The larvae are herded into a special nursery room where a drone will feed them semen until they pupate. Meanwhile, the male wastes no time. Even as the last larvae squirms out of your gaping urethra, he mounts you. It still hurts: the alien prong was never designed for a human cock, and the spikes are still cruel and barbed, but as he thrusts inside you, getting ready to deposit his eggs, you almost feel a certain twisted pleasure through the afterglow of your orgasm. You could almost grow to enjoy this.

The cycle will continue until your body is worn out. As the months pass, time seems to blur, and the days and nights blend together. Your senses dull, your mind wanders and atrophies. By the time the barachi are done with you, you are hardly even human. Not anymore.

END

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Like a Bitch in Heat

*
Thom walked into your bedroom early that morning and caught you masturbating, your pink dildo sliding leisurely in and out of your sultry, juicy cunt; legs spread wide as the prairie, while you watched some kind of tawdry porno on your phone. He came running to me, of course. I was not best pleased at being woken up in this fashion, but I wasn’t really surprised either.

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Grumbling a little, I pulled on my boxer shorts and hauled my corpus up out of bed. I fetched the bucket from the mud room, and hauled it down to your little cloister. Sure enough there you were, sprawled all over the bed, tits hanging out like a pair of ripe mangoes, and your cunt spread wide, your pink plastic toy buzzing busily, slurping and squelching away.

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I said your name, but you were too blissed-out to hear me. More disappointed than actually angry, I dumped the bucket of cold water over your head, shocking you out of your state of sexual rapture.
“Now get cleaned up”, I said. “and meet us in the kitchen.”
“Bitch is in heat,” I told Thom.

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*
I strapped you naked to the kitchen table, thumbs secured to D-rings imbedded in the table over your head, your big toes lashed to lines leading up to pulleys mounted in the ceiling, while Thom made bacon and eggs. I would spoon feed you oatmeal later on, if I remembered.
Breakfast was delicious, but your whining and whimpering started to get on my nerves. Eventually I realized that Thom had squirted hot sauce all over your cunt while I wasn’t looking. That would have earned him a sound spanking, but he snickered maliciously, so I used the belt. Once his buttocks were suitability striped red with pretty raised welts, I got a moist washcloth and gently cleaned off your sensitive lady parts. Your clit was still all pink and swollen, just the way I like it.

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*
Thom had a playdate that morning, a boy from school named Greg. I hadn’t met him before. He seemed nice enough, a computer science type, a little bit on the chunky side for my taste, but cute nonetheless. I don’t believe he’d ever seen a real live naked lady before: he seemed shyly fascinated. I let him play with your breasts and your pussy, sliding a pudgy finger up inside your slick cunt. He really started to get into it too, inserting two and then three fingers up your hole, until you got dangerously close to coming, and I made him stop. Then I had to slap your face and tits for a while to cool you off, until tears ran down your cheeks and you stifled throaty sobs. Your cunt told a different story though, drooling hungrily.

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*
Thom and Greg got down to their playdate. The kid was ridiculously hung, and shaved bare just like a porn star. Thom impressed me by taking the whole length of Greg’s cock down his throat, though he choked and gagged on it. I made sure you could see, because I know it turns you on immensely to watch boys fuck, even if you’re not the biggest fan of Thom in the world.

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I got pretty turned on watching Greg fuck Thom’s face with that grotesque oversized cock of his, and I know you did too. He shot off into Thom’s mouth, and the cutest little dribble of come leaked out the side of his impishly cherubic smile.

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Because I know he hates it, even as it feels amazing on his naked cock, I made Thom fuck you a little bit, before I allowed him to properly consummate his playdate. Greg and I watched hungrily as Thom’s dick slid in and out of your cunt, your labia grasping hungrily at it, your slippery juices smeared all over his erection, your hips lifting and straining to meet his every half-hearted thrust.

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After just a little bit of that, I had mercy and let him bang his little friend from school. When Thom pulled his hard, wet dick out, your pussy gaped ravenously, and you squirmed, tugging desperately against the bonds that held you, calling me a variety of foul and nasty names in a raspy undertone. I pretended not to hear.

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Thom rolled on a condom, and perfunctorily lubed up his friend. Greg took it like a champ while I alternately teased your nipples and clit with a mini vibrator and an ice cube. Every time you started to get the least bit close, I backed right off with both. After a little of this, I left you be and busied myself tidying up and doing dishes while the boys fucked.

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Thom and Greg were huffing and puffing like a pair of steam locomotives going up a steep grade, Thom’s cock pounding Greg’s asshole, making his balls shake and his big dick bounce and slap against his belly. You were whining and whimpering, begging to be allowed to come, in the most tawdry and clichéd terms ever: “Please sir, I beg of you, give me that cock of yours… I need to come so badly sir… I’ll do anything, I promise only please come fuck me…” It was annoying, so I stuffed a dirty sock in your mouth to shut you up for a while.

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Finally Thom got his rocks off, coming deep inside Greg’s tight asshole. The boys disentangled gently, almost tenderly, a pair of very sweaty and sticky x-rated cherubim. You finally managed to spit out the gym sock I’d crammed into your mouth, and in the process vomited up a good amount of your breakfast oatmeal. Thom found that hilarious and laughed and laughed, until I made him clean up the mess. The two of you stared daggers at each other, a barely contained fury that was exactly how I liked you both best.

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*
After we bade farewell to Greg, I ordered Thom upstairs for a shower. I spent a little more time teasing and tormenting you, because I enjoy it so much. I kissed your lips and pinched your nipples, biting down hard enough to draw blood, threatening to extract your nipple rings the hard way before licking your pussy very carefully and delicately, avoiding the one place I knew you needed most to be touched.

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When neither of us could stand it any longer, I bit your inner thigh hard, making you scream at the ceiling, and leaving a pretty bruise. Then using the cords lashed to your toes, I hauled your legs up into the air until your butt was lifted up off the table.

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There was a big sticky puddle underneath you. Your cunt was drooling copiously. You looked gorgeous, rawly sexual, a pornographic masterpiece. I might have left you like that for a while, made you beg and plead for it some more, but now my own need had become too great.

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With one saliva-wet finger, I probed your asshole. You were loose, slick, just as ready as I was.

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Without preamble, I jammed my cock up your tight little hole. You exhaled a throaty “Yessssss” as I penetrated you, stretching and filling you, making you complete. I wasn’t going to last long.

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I put my hand on your throat, pressing down on your windpipe, before I remembered that you had a playdate of your own planned for tomorrow; Maryann was supposed to come over and play, and I probably shouldn’t leave grotesque bruises all over your neck this time. I placed my hand over your mouth and nose. “You know the rules,” I said. “No air until I come. If that means I get off fucking your unconscious body, I’m fine with that. “ Your eyes met mine, unafraid.
I started moving inside you. Very slowly at first: I was primed to explode, but I wanted to hold on as long as I could. It wasn’t going to be very long. We were both way too excited. Your anus clenched around my shaft as I started to fuck in earnest. I could feel your body straining to meet mine.

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I inserted two fingers up your cunt. You were amazingly hot inside, incredibly wet, absolutely sopping. My fingertips found your g-spot and pressed hard, beckoning. I could feel my own fingers moving inside you, rubbing against my cock. You exploded, thrashing against your bonds, squirting all over me. This set me off, and with a yell I came, pumping semen deep inside your asshole. Your orgasm continued almost forever, wave after wave of pent-up frustration breaking loose, shattering through your body. I removed my hand from your face just before you lost consciousness, and we kissed for a long time, my spent and softening cock still captured in your ass, your cunt still twitching.

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*
That night I made Thom sleep in the doghouse. You jerked me off in bed, and I fell asleep like that, with your hand wrapped around my exhausted penis, a sticky puddle of semen smeared all over my tummy.
Late that night, or very early the next morning, we fucked again; plain old boring penis in vagina sex. It was uncomplicated, slow, sweet, and very very vanilla. And it was delicious.

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END

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Hazelnut Latte

It hit me, like a dick-slap right across the face: I was graduating.

The thought induced a wave of nausea so powerful I had to sit down. The fact that I’d been up all night, playing in chatrooms and compulsively surfing porn didn’t help none. Too much caffeine, too much masturbation, not nearly enough sleep. I felt a little sick to my stomach, a pale shade of green, avocado or maybe artichoke. Marjorie didn’t approve of internet porn, but I’m not Marjorie.

And my cunt was sore and my clit was painfully tender. A consequence of edging all night long to nasty internet porn and horny dudes on sketchy websites. Bad habit.

This was Graduation with a capital G, the real deal, not high school or undergrad, but mother fucking graduate school. Fuck. Now what?

Now what indeed? My girlfriend was moving to Hawaii to start her internship. In approximately one week, I’d get an official piece of paper that designated me a bon-a-fide artist. And shortly thereafter, the student loan payments would start coming due.

I needed coffee like baby needed tit. I sucked that hot black liquid up like a webslut guzzling come from an oversized cock. I had edged far too long, and I was in desperate need of release.

Marjorie had gotten home late last night. The interview had been a great success. In fact she was going to fly out again tomorrow morning to start her internship on the Big Island. Everything was happening so fast, she said, it was like skiing an avalanche. For me, it felt more like a free fall. I only hoped I’d packed a parachute.

Marjorie was awake. She looked cute in her red polka dot pajamas, with her tousled sleepy-head hair and no make-up.

Things were already weird between us, I could tell. The drive home from the airport had felt wooden, scripted, like a bad TV show. Our thing was coming to an end, and it had only just started. When we got back to my place, she’d been too tired for sex. Too tired for sex! It was hard for me to imagine, but Marjorie was never the sexual creature that I am.

The sex we had was nice, and the orgasms had been plentiful, but sex wasn’t really the basis of our relationship, the way it had been with all my previous lovers. That probably would have turned into a problem if we had stayed together.

“Do you have time for a little action before seminar?” Marjorie asked me over her hot chai.

I didn’t, not really.

“Sure,” I grinned, “Let’s go back to bed!”

“Let’s not,” said Marjorie, “Let’s stay right here!”

That was rather unlike Marjorie, but I wasn’t about to argue. We sort of fell into each other’s arms, fiercely kissing, tumbled towards the couch, and missed, half falling onto the floor. My hands were already inside her shirt, feeling up her big tits, much larger than mine, pinching and pulling on her nipples, a tad harder than I knew she liked, making them grow and stiffen like little cocks.

“Mmmm,” she arched her back, for once not complaining that I was being too rough. “I want you…” The words just made my raw and irritated pussy even wetter. “Could I ask you a favor…?”

I stopped molesting her tits for a moment and held my breath. Marjorie never asked for sexual favors.

“Could we make a sex tape… you know, to remember each other by?”

I’d made sexy videos before – of me stripping and touching myself – for a couple different girls, and one exceedingly lucky guy. I’d never made an actual SEX tape, filming myself getting it on with another person, but I’d always wanted to. I never imagined that Marjorie might agree to agree to such a thing, and here she was asking me!

We paused for a moment while I set up my cell phone on the coffee table, propped up against a short stack of art history books, pointing at my ratty old red couch. It was difficult to get the angle set up just right because Marjorie kept playing with my inner thighs and butt through my pajama pants in the most distracting sort of way.

I finally got the phone camera set up right, and pressed RECORD, and Marjorie was all over me, pulling me with her onto the couch, peeling off my pajama tops and showering me with butterfly kisses all over my face and neck and tits.

I wasted no time getting her shirt off, freeing up her gorgeous big breasts, like a pair of ripe honeydew melons. They totally made me understand guys’ fascination with big tits. They are so much fun to play with!

She was all over me, just as much as I was all over her. Marjorie was rarely at all aggressively sexual, something had gotten into her. Maybe it was the fact that we were parting, or maybe it was the camera, but she was one horny little weasel this morning!

Marjorie had my pajama bottoms tugged down around my knees, but I wanted to taste her, so I shoved her back down on the couch and got my head down between her legs.

I sort of tried to leave a clear shot for the camera, but mostly the phone captured the back of my head: I was much more interested in eating out her pussy then in putting on a show.

Marjorie didn’t shave, not at all, which didn’t bother me in the slightest, except for the odd stray hair that got stuck between my teeth or in the back of my throat. I went for her pink little clit as usual, slurping up and down and all around, the way she liked it.

“I want to feel you inside me” Marjorie pushed my head away. “I want you to finger my pussy.”

Even the word “pussy’ was totally unlike her, not at all part of her regular vocabulary. I slipped a finger, and then two inside her cunt. She was sopping wet and searingly hot.

“Fuck me, fuck my pussy!”

I obliged, with gusto, sliding my fingers in and out of her slippery hole, pressing hard against the firm texture of her g-spot. Her pussy made appreciative slurping sounds as I finger-fucked her, her legs splayed wide, her head thrown back in a mask of ecstasy. Her orgasm gave me a vicarious rush of power and pleasure.

She covered me with kisses, wet, hurried, horny kisses all over my tits, neck, face, and lips. She flipped me over onto my back, tugged my pajama bottoms the rest of the way off, and dove down between my legs like a starving girl at a pie-eating contest.

It was as I had feared: after my night of solo debauchery, my poor lady bits were just too sensitive for that kind of attention. Well, the actual truth is that it wasn’t just my tender pussy. The truth is I was feeling extra horny, extra kinky and randy, and I knew that this was probably going to be my last chance for the foreseeable future. I pushed her head away.

“Hold on,” I said, “There’s something I want to try.”

I sprinted for the bedroom, grabbed my toy box from under the bed, and came back with my hands full. Marjorie had never seen the contents of my toy box because, as she had told me several times before, she was ‘not into toys’.

I pulled out my thick black dildo. Normally, I would be embarrassed as hell to be showing Marjorie something that, but I was feeling completely shameless. Lust does that to me sometimes.

“I want you to fuck me with this,” I told Marjorie. And the camera. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

Anal play hadn’t been part of our vocabulary at all. Whenever I went to tickle Marjorie’s cute little asshole while I was going down on her, she would squirm away from me. I fully expected her to argue, but all she said was “Ok, then turn over.”

I handed her the dildo and a bottle of lube, and got down on my hands and knees, presenting my backside toward the phone on the coffee table. She spread my butt cheeks and started touching me EXACTLY where I wanted to be touched. I really wanted her to use her tongue too, to rim my horny little asshole, but that was just wishful thinking.  Nevertheless, her fingers felt delightful up and down my ass crack, and when she started touching my asshole, it felt delicious!

She dribbled some cool lube on my anus, and nudged the tip of her finger inside. “Is that what you want, Nasty Girl? You want me to fuck that little hole with this big fat cock?”

Oh Yes, Oh Yes I did! I arched my back and wiggled my butt in what I hoped was a seductive way.

Marjorie slapped me on the ass, and then pressed the dildo against my asshole. I pressed back. It wasn’t easy, but slowly and inexorably, it slid in, past my tight anus and up my ass. It felt like heaven.

When the dildo was firmly lodged up my butt, Marjorie climbed up on top of me, pressing her large breasts against my shoulder blades. Clasping the dildo between her thighs, she started humping me with it. It felt incredibly erotic, getting butt-fucked by this beautiful PhD candidate. She reached under and just cupped my swollen wet vulva with her palm, and that was just enough. Humping back against her, meeting every thrust of her hips with a thrust of my own, the fat cock buried deep in my asshole, I exploded, all last night’s pent-up sexual energy boiling over and spilling out like a pressure cooker that has been left on high heat too long. I came, thrashing and swearing, grinding back against my soon to be ex-girlfriend, in one of the longest, most intense orgasms of my life.

When we were done, things were weird again right away. Thank heavens there was no poo smeared on the dildo when I extracted it from my butt. Marjorie got dressed in a hurry, declined my offer of the shower, saying something about how I had to get to my lecture (I was chronically late). Then she made a hasty exit, leaving me naked, sticky, and discombobulated, with a buzzing tender pussy and asshole and a sore, swollen clit.

Marjorie and I spoke a few more times after that, but that morning was effectively the end of our relationship. Full stop. I believe she’s a full professor now, at the university in Hawaii. I never did send her our sex tape, though I have whacked off to it many many times.

I cleaned up the parts of me that most needed cleaning, got dressed, ditched seminar, and went downstairs to the Crazy Lady Coffee shop, where I ordered a large hazelnut latte. I needed it.

That day was the first day of the rest of my life.

 

END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Honey Badger

It was easily the most unpleasant and awkward dinner I’d ever been to. Melissa’s mom was absolutely from hell. In retrospect, I’m pretty sure she was drunk. Obviously Melissa and I were from very different socio-economic classes, but she was brutal the way she rubbed it in: I had gone WHERE to high school? PUBLIC school?? How… nice… but, wasn’t it awfully dangerous there? Did I really feel like it had prepared me for college? Oh NO, that’s the salad fork you poor thing, Melissa dear, please show him the dessert spoon!

I was pretty sure she’d had a face lift. And a boob job too.

Melissa’s brother and sister (both younger, but not that much younger) sat sullenly and mostly silently at the table. Her brother was kind of pudgy with greasy hair: I pegged him as a D&D geek. Her sister was short, with mousy brown hair and big tits. She looked down at her plate a lot and only spoke when spoken too. “DAHLING, won’t you PU-LEASE pass out guest some more of these delicious French peas?”

The funny thing was, I’m pretty sure most of the food had come straight out of a can. It sure tasted like it.

Her dad came in mid-meal, and he was even worse. He was 40-ish, heavy-set and balding, and obviously loaded. He clapped me on the back, and started bragging right away about his fancy car, the stocks and bonds he’d traded at work today, how attractive and sexy his wife was compared to the bimbos back at the office.

Melissa’s brother and sister excused themselves early from the table. Melissa and I stuck it out to the bitter end.

I’d been trying to bang her all semester, hitting on her hard enough to leave bruises, with little to show in the way of results. The fact was, I hadn’t gotten laid since… well, not for a really long time. Sometimes Melissa seemed to be flirting back, other times she seemed only distantly amused. So when she invited me back to her parent’s house over winter break, my cock pretty much tried to bust through my zipper in horny anticipation.

The house was an enormous and grotesque McMansion, located deep inside a subdivision in what had only recently been verdant farmland. It had a chandelier, an attached 3-car garage, central air, the works. The only think lacking was any semblance of taste.

After dinner, Melissa showed me to the guest bedroom. It looked a bit like a Sultan’s boudoir, all shag carpeting, mood lighting, and sateen sheets. Melissa told me that the bathroom adjoined hers, so if I needed privacy I should lock the door. Then she went to bed. Not so much as a goodnight peck.

I figured the odds of my getting laid that night were roughly on par with the odds of me winning Powerball. I decided to take a shower to wash the memories of that awful canned dinner from my flesh.

I have to say the shower was amazing. It was the kind that doesn’t have a shower stall, just a drain in the middle of the bathroom. Glass tiles, and three shower heads. And the water was as hot as I could stand it. It was great. I took a really long shower, finally relaxed a bit, and stood in the steamy bathroom toweling off, thinking that if I wasn’t going to get laid, at least I could whack off in the lap of luxury.

My cock was already thick and heavy. It didn’t take much petting to coax it fully erect. It was kind of hot to watch myself in the full-length mirror, as my dick grew bigger and harder, jutting straight up, the head swollen and purple, my balls drawn up tight as my own fist slid rhythmically up and down the shaft. It really was weirdly hot to watch: I’d never really seen myself masturbating before, and there I was, large as life.

I was close, I was really close to exploding when the bathroom door opened, and there was Melissa. “Oh! Oh my. Excuse me…” She had caught me mid-stroke, and I stood there in the bathroom, naked, cock in hand, eyes wide like a deer glancing up at an oncoming semi. “Well don’t stop on my account!” Dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt, clearly with no bra on underneath, she looked sexy as all hell. I resumed what I had been doing, as she watched, fascinated.

It didn’t take long. Looking in the mirror, watching myself while I stroked my cock while Melissa watched was a delicious visual. I made a croaking noise, my butt squeezed, my back arched, and I exploded in a powerful orgasm, shooting an arc of semen halfway across the tiled floor.

When I was completely finished, she gave me an unreadable little half-smile. “That was kind of hot! I’d totally do you if I did guys. Now sleep tight, I’ll see you in the morning!”

Damn.

I went to bed, exhausted from a long stressful day, and sexually sated, at least for now. I slid in between the sateen sheets (frankly kind of icky), and fell asleep hard.

…and was woken up an indeterminate amount of time later with a hand on my cock. Not my hand either.

It was Melissa’s little sister, who’s name I had forgotten as soon as we had been introduced, and continues to evade my memory. She continued fondling my dick (which was already hard and eager to go all over again) as I blinked my eyes and struggled up into wakefulness.

Her tits were big and bouncy as she slithered up my body to kiss me, her pussy leaving a wet trail up my thigh. She kissed my lips ravenously, her big soft boobs pressed up against my chest, reaching back to squeeze my hard cock again and again. I fondled her ass, and she giggled and rubbed her wet pussy against me.

From somewhere she produced a condom. She tore the wrapper open, winked at me, gave my erection a swift lick or two, and then rolled the condom down my shaft in one practiced motion.

She crawled over me, so her boobs were danging right in front of my face, grabbed my cock with one hand, and slowly, oh so very slowly, slipped it inside and lowered herself down. She was incredibly hot inside, hot and wet and slippery. Her pussy was framed with a neat bush of black hair, her nipples jutted out, her hair was wild. Setting the pace, she rode back and forth, up and down, grinning like a maniac all the while.

I wanted to come inside her, but even more than that I wanted to feel her come on me, so I held back with everything I had, biting my lower lips until I tasted blood. She was moving faster and faster, bouncing up and down, making sexy little noises that were rising in pitch, her tits shaking violently as she approached the point of no return.

“Sssso sssexy!” It was her mom, Melissa’s mother, standing framed in the doorway, looking downright frightening in a matching purple bra-and-pantie set. Dad was standing right behind her, wearing an improbable red and purple velvet bathrobe with Chinese dragons embroidered on it.

“That was one hell of a show kids,” he chortled. “Come on Honey, let’s show them how it’s done!”

My dick had gone soft the moment the bedroom door had swung open. Melissa’s sister clambered off me and removed the condom from my soft and shrunken dick. Now she was idly playing with my penis and her own pussy. Her head was turned, and I couldn’t see her face.

Melissa’s mom stripped out of her fancy lingerie. Her breasts looked like a pair of cut-in-half grapefruit, and not in a good way. Her pussy was shaved bare, which might be attractive on some women, but looked kind of grotesque on her. She lay flat on her back across from me, her legs splayed wide, her labia pouting open and drooling, tits pointed unnaturally straight up at the ceiling.

Dad let his bathrobe fall to the floor. He had a Burt Reynolds hairy chest, which contrasted in kind of an icky way with his waxed-clean pubic region. His cock jutted out in front of him like a battering ram. It was enormous, at least half again as big as my own, or even bigger. It looked scary. With one thrust he slid it up inside of his wife, and she grunted like she’d been punched in the stomach, and lifted up her legs, pointing her toes at the ceiling. They squelched obscenely as they fucked.

My dick was hard once again, thanks to Melissa’s sister’s efforts. She gave me a look that said “I don’t fucking know either”, and borrowed my hand, sliding my middle finger up inside her juicy pussy as she played with her own clit.

I finger-fucked Melissa’s sister as her parents fucked six inches away from us. She brought herself to an orgasm, kissing me hard on the lips as she rubbed her clitoris. I could feel the muscles inside her pussy pulsating on my finger as she came. It was pretty satisfying.

Dad flipped Mom over so she was facing us on all fours. Her hair looked freshly coiffed, but her eye makeup was smeared and running. His scary cock stood straight out from his beer belly, covered in his wife’s wetness. “Watch this, I’m going to wreck her rectum,” he announced, and proceeded to cram that ridiculous thing up her ass. It took a while, and a little grunting and whimpering and grimacing from her, but he got it in, in the end, and proceeded to fuck her with deep, pounding strokes.

Meanwhile, my own orgasm was evading me. Melissa’s sister was earnestly trying to get me off with her mouth and hand, but it wasn’t taking me anywhere. As her Mom and Dad’s cries became louder and more desperate and animalistic, I gently moved her aside, and started masturbating.

“That’s it Baby Doll,” Mom said in between her husband’s thrusts, “Play with his balls. Boys love that.”

Melissa’s sister was playing with my balls, which felt heavenly, but that wasn’t all she had for me. Very gently, she insinuated a wet finger in to my anus, pushing me straight over the edge.

Her parent’s cries were reaching their crescendo, but they might as well have been in the next county as I jerked off with Melissa’s little sister licking my testicles and fingering my asshole. I exploded harder than I think I ever had before, enough to make me see stars, my body clenching from toes to ears, with everything in between spasming sympathetically.

Melissa’s sister gently extracted her finger, and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. Then she disappeared out the bedroom door, leaving me alone in bed with her vigorously copulating parents.

I took the coward’s way out: I slunk as quickly as I could into the bathroom and turned on the shower, and didn’t come out again until quite a while after the last of the sex noises has quieted down from the guest bedroom.

Breakfast the next morning was an awkward, silent affair.

On the long, dull drive back to school later on that day, Melissa told me “Thank you for coming out. I know my family is pretty weird, but I hope you’ll come visit again at spring break.”

I most certainly would.

END

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Wallflower

When I woke up, the boy was lying next to me in bed, snoring softly. He looked cherubic, lying there nude: hair tousled, penis limp, mouth open and drooling slightly. I extracted myself carefully so as not to wake him, and still sticky with the juices of last night’s exertions, I put on my running stuff.

It was raining outside, but that didn’t bother me. It was high summer, it had been a hot night, and today was going to be another scorcher. I set off on my regular hilly loop, enjoying the sensation of the asphalt under my shoes, the clean cooling rain on my face and hair. As I ran, I started to lose myself in the steady rhythm of my feet, and I replayed some of the juicer aspects of the previous night.

He was young, this boy of mine. Like young young. Which was different for me: annoying in some ways, but mostly just a lot of fun. Everything was new and fresh for him, And it seemed like he was always hard. My clit throbbed a little just thinking about it. My pussy was still a little sore, which apparently was one of the occupational hazards of robbing the cradle. Despite myself, I already wanted a little more.

One more hill. The sun had crested the horizon, and the temperature was already rising. I struggled a bit with the last uphill, as I always do, and rounded the corner to my street. My house, and the big chestnut tree in front of is was in view. Sometimes I sprint it in, but not today. Twat too sore. My neighbor Molly was just setting out for her jog. The rain hadn’t scared her off either. We waved our hellos, and I went inside, sweaty, wet, and horny.

I stripped naked, tossing my damp running stuff into a pile in the corner of the bathroom, and stepped into the shower. Warm water pelted my body, washing the sweat away. I thought about the boy, how I had ridden him the night before, and my nipples stiffened and perked up. I shaved my pits and my legs, touched up around crotch, and then lathered up. Dr. Bronner’s peppermint soap tingled my sensitive parts in a not unpleasant way.

A draft rustled the shower curtain and stirred me from my lascivious daydreams. Time was getting on, and I needed to go to work. It would not do to be late.

The boy was standing nude on the bathroom tile, crazy bedhead hair like an anime character, shit-eating grin on his face, and a boner leading the way.

“Come on in,” I said. “The water’s fine!”

He joined me inside the tiny shower stall, and I dropped to my knees.

“We’ve got to be quick,” I told him. “I can’t be later for work.”

The boy had a perfect cock for sucking: not too big, certainly not too small, clean-shaven and delicious. I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole, letting him slide between my hungry lips while my tongue did loop-de-loops around the head, and my hands fondled his generous ball sac and his cute little buns. He moaned gratifyingly and ran his fingers through my wet hair and started humping my face. It is a testament to how hard I had worked him the night before that he didn’t just explode right away in my mouth.

I turned him around so he was facing the corner of the shower, spread his cheeks apart, and started to rim him. He loved that, almost as much as I loved doing it. He’d told me I was the only woman who had ever done that to him. It turned me on tremendously to hear him gurgle and sigh as I darted my tongue in and out of his tiny little hole, circling all around and probing gently with my index finger. I didn’t know about him, but I was more than ready.

I slithered up his body, pressing my breasts against his shoulders, my cunt against his ass. “I want you to fuck me up the butt” I whispered into his ear. My pussy was too damn tender for any serious action just yet.

I can’t really recommend Dr. Bronner’s soap as a lubricant, but I will tell you that it’ll do in a pinch! Once we had slathered soap all over my asshole and his cock, he slid right up inside. I was relaxed and horny enough that I barely even gasped at the invasion. The peppermint stung deliciously as he started fucking me, cupping my breasts in his strong hands and growling silly little terms of endearment into my ear. I humped back against him, encouraging him, playing gently around my clit as he got more and more excited. I was pretty fucking turned on myself! My clit was aching and throbbing, and my cunt felt like it was gushing, and I almost almost almost came before he did, spasming deep inside my ass, filling me with his hot gooey cream.

“I’ve seriously got to go,” I said, disentangling our bodies. “Let yourself out. I’m going to be late. I’ll see you later…”

As quickly as I could, I got dressed for work. I really was going to be late. I wore just what I’d been directed to wear: short black skirt, pumps, low-cut white blouse. No bra or panties. I literally ran for the train, knowing that it wouldn’t help.

I tried to slip into the office unnoticed, but let’s face it, that was never going to happen. “You’re late,” Carl announced for everyone’s benefit. “Again. Settle your things and meet me in my office in five minutes. And don’t be tardy.” Jane in accounting sniggered derisively. My legs felt weak, and I had a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, and my pussy was paradoxically wet.

“Come in,” Carl said shortly, not looking up from his laptop. “Close the door behind you. Don’t bother sitting down. You know how I feel about punctuality.”

I stood in front of his desk in the long silence that followed, hands clasped in front of me, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl awaiting her punishment. I squeezed my thighs together, mashing my labia together against my tender clit. My asshole still buzzed from the boy’s invasion. I felt incredibly vulnerable, standing there, fully dressed, but with no underwear on; I felt more naked than if I were actually naked.

“This is the third time this month,” Carla said, finally looking up from his computer screen. “How am I ever going to get through to you?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“Open up your shirt,” he commanded. I fumbled with the buttons, feeling self-conscious under Carl’s impatient, critical gaze. “Well, I see you’ve learned how to follow directions at least.” He flicked a nipple with his index finger, and I flinched. He laughed softly and coldly.

From a drawer in his desk, Carl produced a pair of little silver bells. Attached to each bell was a delicate silver chain. At the end of each chain was an alligator clip.

I winced as he applied the clamps to my nipples. It hurt as he put them on, but I knew it was going to hurt even more later on.

“Now bend over,” Carl commanded, “Hands on your knees.” I did as I was told.

He lifted up my skirt and caressed my buttocks softly with the back of his large, hairy hand, sending electric shivers from my toes all the way up my spine. My cunt was positively drooling.

Carl picked up the wooden yardstick that always sat on his desk, and he started right in on me. I had to choke down a yelp from the first whack; the ferocity of his blows always took me by surprise. The man has a very strong arm.

I didn’t take me long to lose track of how many times he’d hit me. Every time the yardstick struck my poor exposed butt, the little silver bells dangling from my nipples would bounce and shake and tinkle. This seemed to amuse Carl to no end. I was mortified that the whole office could hear; but mostly I was in agonizing pain, and almost too horny for words.

I’ve never considered myself a masochist. This whole s&m thing had kind of come right out of left field. But holy crap, the things Carl did to me got me incredibly hot in ways I’d never been turned on before.

By the time he was done, when he judged that I’d finally suffered enough, or his arm just got tired, tears were streaming down my cheeks, and my ass felt like he had scrubbed my buttocks down with sand paper, poured gasoline all over them and lit me afire. Carl thoughtfully handed me a tissue to wipe my eyes.

“I have something a little special in mind for you for later on,” Carl said as he removed the silver bells from my breasts, sending fresh waves of pain through my body and making my knees weak and wobbly. “But first, I believe you have a floor plan to finish.” He smiled thinly.

His erection was prominent under his black suit pants, bulging out invitingly from the crotch. He was clearly enjoying himself. As was I. It still boggled my mind how much this man turned me on, though he’d never lifted so much as a finger to pleasure me.

“I have a client meeting at one. I want you under my desk at 12:55. Now you had best get some work done…”

I tucked my poor, abused tits back into my blouse, and smoothed out my skirt over my tenderized ass, and went back into the office, feeling the eyes of my coworkers on me, wondering if they knew what was going on in Carl’s office, or if they just thought I’d gotten a lecture about punctuality. I sat down at my workstation, my bruised butt reminding me of the punishment I’d received, and started to draft.

At 12:53, I slipped into Carl’s office and closed the door behind me. He nodded his satisfaction.

“I’m going to be meeting with these clowns for an hour or so. You know what to do. Just keep me excited, but DON’T let me come!”

So I crawled under his desk, and started sucking his dick. Carl’s cock was longer than I personally like, the kind with a pointy head. It reminded me of a grossly oversized asparagus spear. He waxed or shaved the whole area clean, when was kind of nice because I wouldn’t get any pubes stuck in my throat or between my teeth.

The meeting dragged on and on, and I licked, slurped, sucked, stroked, and occasionally nibbled. I liked sucking his dick quite a lot, and I considered myself pretty good at it, and sometimes I got a little bit over-enthusiastic, and was promptly rewarded with a sharp tug on my hair or a knee to the tit. My jaw was aching by the time the meeting finally wrapped up, and his dick was slick and dripping with my saliva.When the clients were all gone, he let me out from under his desk and wiped off his dick.

“Don’t forget, you owe me a revision. I want to see that floorplan in the shared drive before you leave today. Oh, and I might swing by your house this weekend.”

“Swing by my house??” What a ballsy, arrogant motherfucker.

I had to duck into the lady’s room and rub my clit to a well-deserved orgasm before I could get back to work. And dammit, I did have that revision done before I left the office at six.

The boy was home when I got home. I’d given him door keys a week or so ago. He was sitting naked on the couch, smelling of pot, headphones on, playing some stupid game on his phone. I got down on my knees and sucked his cock and played with his balls and asshole until he came in my mouth. No complaints there!

I sucked all the hot, bitter, sticky semen out of his cock, knowing full well that there was plenty more where that came from. Finally he took the headset off and put the phone down, and got down to the business of eating me out.

This was something I’d been working on with him, and I had to hand it to the lad, he was making good progress! He still spent too much time directly on my clit, and I had to redirect him a few times, Even so, the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of my pussy and tickling my asshole while his tongue flicked at my engorged little clitoris was heavenly, and I ended up creaming all over his face in a very loud and satisfying way.

Afterward, we cuddled a bit, and then I went to work on getting him hard again. I slipped down between his thighs, with the intention of sticking my tongue as far up his ass as it would go; that usually did the trick. While I was down between his legs, nuzzling up behind his balls, I noticed a hickie on his inner thigh that I hadn’t put there myself.

“Listen, you,” I told him, “If you are going to be fucking other girls, we’re going to have to go back to using condoms.”

He didn’t respond to that, but when I got my face between his tight little buns and starting licking his anus, he responded all right!

I got his ass nice and wet and loose with my tongue. This made his dick really really hard, I had to run upstairs and grab condoms, which aren’t really my favorite thing in the world, but that’s not something I fuck around with.

So I rolled one down his shaft, and then we fucked like rabbits. We started out with me riding his cock, bouncing up and down on his lap, and we finished with me tits-down on the couch and him pounding me from behind. Once he’s gotten off the first time, the boy lasts pretty well.

After we got cleaned up, he took off. He didn’t say where he was headed, and I didn’t ask. I showered, got high, looked at some porn online, didn’t quite masturbate, and went to bed.

The next morning, I got up early and ran. The humidity had gone down, and it wasn’t going to be quite as hot. I did my long hills route, and by the time I got back to the house, the sun was up in the sky, and I was drenched in sweat.

The front door was open a crack, which should have been my first clue, but I was oblivious. I pulled off my shoes and socks and jog bra and went to my bedroom to grab a towel.

Carl was sitting on the side of my bed. It was the first time I’d seen him naked. The boy was between his thighs, greedily sucking his cock, slurping and bobbing his head up and down, occasionally gagging on it.

Carl saw me, winked broadly, and leered, placing a strong hand on the back of the boy’s head and forcing him down his shaft until the boy coughed and choked.

My hand slipped down the waistband of my running shorts and found my cunt wet. And not just running sweat wet; I was slick and drooling.

Carl lifted the boy up off his cock and tossed him onto my bed. The guy was pretty ripped. You never would have known, under his business attire, but he must have worked out a ton.

I don’t know if the boy saw me or not. Don’t really care either way. He ended up with his rump in the air, face buried in the pillows.

Carl rolled a condom (one of MY condoms, thank you very much!) onto his long wet shaft, perfunctorily fingered the boy’s anus, and then proceeded to jam his cock up the boy’s asshole. It was pretty brutal to watch.

The boy screamed, which was kind of satisfying in a very twisted and perverse sort of way. Carl fucked the boy’s ass hard, without mercy. I fingered my cunt for a little while as they fucked, but Carl kept looking over his shoulder at me with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and I had to walk away.

I sat on my front step and tried to clear my head, but the sex noises kept leaking out of the bedroom into my ears and filling me with deeply mixed emotions. Tears of anger or shame or jealousy or something were running down my cheeks, and my cunt was wet and needy, and I kept having to squeeze my thighs together to appease it.

Molly came jogging up the sidewalk, big boobs bouncing pleasantly under a damp t-shirt. She waved as I ogled her, and I suddenly and self-consciously remembered that I was topless. I extracted my hand from my running shorts where it had somehow migrated when I wasn’t paying attention.

“Hey!” Molly said, stopping right in front of my front walk.

“Hey,” I said back. I tried not to stare at her tits. I had the distinct impression she was trying not to stare at mine. I heard muffled screams coming from my bedroom. It seemed the guys were having a good time of it.

“There’s a contractor over at my house this morning,” she said. It was true, now that I noticed: a white cargo van was parked in her driveway. “Would you mind if I borrowed a shower from you?”

“Sure,” I said. “Come on in!”

The bed was squeaking hard, and we heard Carl’s voice drift out, muffled and husky “Yeah, that’s it boy, fuck me harder…”

Molly giggled. “Oh my, you are popular! I had no idea!” I felt her cup my ass with her hand and squeeze, and a grin lit up my face like the midday summer sun as I led her toward the shower.

END

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I Call My Love Sophia

It started out as a joke, a passing fancy, a half-serious dare. It quickly became an addiction.

When you come into the room, I have to choke down the instinct to smile, to kiss you, to hold you close. Instead, I adopt a stern frown.

“Strip naked,” I command. You comply.

“You can stop this at any time,” I say, “Just say one word. Bananarama. That’s the word. Got it?

“Bananarama” you repeat meekly.

“Very good,” I say condescendingly, patting you on the head like a kindergartner. “But if you use that word,” I go on sternly, “You don’t get to come. Do you understand?”

You nod silently.

“Good,” I say. I pull out two pairs of thumb cuffs (14.95 on Amazon!), and twirl them casually on one finger. “Down on the floor,” I say. You obey.

I lock your thumbs together behind your back, fasten your two big toes together. Leave the keys on the night stand. “You look nice like that,” I say. “Vulnerable. I’m going to go take a shower.”

I leave you there on the floor, and treat myself to a long, hot, sudsy shower. I take my time, though I am aching to be back in the room with you. I masturbate a little, but then I catch myself getting over-excited, and have to douse my bits with cold water.

When I come back into the room, wrapped up in a fluffy purple towel, you are up on the bed. I smile. “Simon didn’t say,” I say in a sing-song voice. “Bottoms up, dear!”

Your ass is beautiful, pale and flawless. I beat it without mercy, smacking first one cheek and then the other, leaving red hand prints to mark my territory. I spank you until my hands smart and sting from it, and then I switch to my hairbrush. You grunt and groan, but not a word of complaint passes through your lips. I dare you, double-dare you to use your safe word as I pummel your bright red bottom with my leather belt, but you hold your piece even as salty tears stream down your face.

Finally, when my arm is tired, and I get the sense that I might be on the edge of pushing you too far, I stop. I run one finger lazily up and down your sex. Clearly I am not the only one who is enjoying this game.

Up on your knees. I want to get a dog collar for you to wear, all the time, even when you’re at work, so the whole world will know that you are mine, all mine.

Out come the sterile needles I stole from the hospital clean room. You wince but stay silent every time I puncture your flesh. The alcohol makes it sting. The blood blossoms like red roses on your perfect chest. You look so gorgeous kneeling there it almost stops my heart.

I am about to kiss you, but then I change my mind. Smack! Smack! Smack! Open palm, right across the face.

“I’m setting a timer,” I say, pulling out my smartphone and making a big show of setting up the stopwatch. “You’ve got 15 minutes. If you haven’t given me an orgasm before that alarm goes off, you are going to be very, very sorry.”

I put the phone on the side table next to the cuff keys, and lie down on my back. The clock is ticking. You feverishly go to work, doing your best in your hobbled state, hands pinned behind your back, feet attached at the toes. I had thought of gagging you, but now I’m glad I didn’t. You work furiously, desperately, using mouth and tongue. You do your work almost too well; I have to roll over onto my front to keep you from getting me off. I lift my ass in the air, spreading my cheeks, and you dive in, sticking your tongue into my asshole, licking my most private parts in an optimistic attempt to appease me. It doesn’t work, but it feels delicious.

Finally the alarm goes off. “Time’s up!” I say cheerfully, rolling off the bed. “Nice try, but not good enough. Now you’re really in trouble!”

You look worried. Rightly so.

I take a freshly peeled root of ginger out of the ziplock bag I had stashed in the drawer. Up your butt it goes, neat as a cork in last night’s wine bottle. I lay back on the bed, parting my knees invitingly. “The sooner I get off, the sooner it comes out!”

You go to it with a vengeance, and this time I don’t hold back at all. The things your mouth do to me are exquisite, and I catch myself moaning your name out loud and humping back against your eager tongue. I am coming in seconds, coming hard and not stopping. My body shakes and shivers with the intensity of the orgasm. I hold your head in place and keep it there as the aftershocks rack through me, curling my toes.

Meanwhile, the ginger root is doing it’s job inside your tender little anus. You are weeping now, shaking, and you stutter the words out: “Banana– Bananarama.”

I decouple myself from your tongue, swiftly removing the stinging piece of ginger and unfastening your restraints.

I kiss you top to bottom, licking tenderly, salving your wounds and your swollen needy parts. Finally I hold you close, kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“I lied,” I say, “About the safeword. You earned an orgasm.”

My fingers find your sex, and I hug you close to me, kissing you as my hand bring you exquisite pleasure, taking joy in your gasps and cries of pleasure as you come in my arms.

We lie together on the bed, naked, wet and sticky, for a long long time before either one of us says anything else.

“I love you.”

END

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