Posts Tagged anal sex

A Fox in the Hen House

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.


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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.


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.


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Dad Quest

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.


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When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was a strange man sleeping next to me in my bed.  I must say, I reacted to this discovery pretty calmly.  I didn’t scream or otherwise freak out.

Very gingerly, so as not to wake him, I peeled back the covers and rolled out of bed.  I’d been sleeping naked, as has been my habit since I was a little girl.

For a strange dude asleep in my bed, at least this one was pretty cute.  He had a high forehead and strong cheekbones, and his chin was all bristly with stubble.  His mouth was open slightly, and he snored softly, with one arm thrust out as if to embrace someone who wasn’t there.

I tiptoed into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth and get my head on straight.  My nipples were tender, as if they’d been sucked on a lot, and my pussy was pleasantly sore and juicy; apparently I’d had fun last night.

There was a post-it stuck to the mirror over the sink, and scrawled in hasty red magic marker:





Back in the bedroom, I carefully peeled back the sheets.  Ken was sleeping naked too.  His soft little cock was too cute not to kiss.  As soon as my lips touched it, it twitched and started to swell slightly.  I very lightly traced my tongue across his crinkled scrotum and along the underside of his still-flaccid penis.  He tasted salty and sexy, and his cock continued to swell in a most gratifying way.

He shifted, rolling over onto his back.  His eyes were still closed, and if he wasn’t still completely asleep, he certainly wasn’t quite awake yet either.  His cock was now fully erect, and my boy Kenny was possessed of one very attractive penis.  It was big; long without being too long, fat without being too fat, circumcised with a bulbous well-defined head and the whole thing had an interesting upward curve to it.  My pussy twitched wetly.  I wished I remembered…

I softly swirled my tongue all around the big knobby purple head, exploring the ridges and textures and enjoying his taste.  He swelled even more and I could feel his pulse beating in his cock.  I wanted to eat him.

His big cock flopped wetly against his flat tummy, and his eyes flickered sleepily open.  He smiled slowly and stretched, arching his back like a lazy cat.  I swallowed his hard cock whole.

I loved having that big hot hard living thing in my mouth.  His hands played with my hair as I lavished affection all over his penis with my tongue.  I started bobbing my head slowly up and down, taking as much of him as I could and then releasing him until the head was balanced precariously between my lips, then engulfing him all over again.  He started humping back, matching my tempo, slowly at first and then more and more urgently.

I wrapped the fingers of one hand around the base of his cock and started jerking him off into my mouth, quick little butterfly strokes.  My other hand cupped his balls, gently squeezing him, my fingertips teasing the soft skin of his taint and the dark secret crack where his ass cheeks met.  He was moaning and groaning in the most sexy way, lifting up off the bed to meet my wet mouth.  I released his balls and, still pumping his erection between my thumb and forefinger, I let one exploratory finger slide up between his ass cheeks.

I circled his crinkly little anus with my finger, and the moans and groans increased in volume and urgency, and he started fucking my mouth harder, bucking and thrashing around.  I wanted to taste him, taste him, feel him come.  I pressed my finger up against his hole, and his anus opened up and let my finger slide all the way in to the second knuckle.  He was hot and tight, and I could feel his body pulsing.  With a howl, he arched his back, shoving his cock deep into my mouth, his entire body trembling.  Ignoring my aching shoulder, I jerked his cock as fast as I could, keeping my mouth wrapped around his cock.  He shot off into my mouth, flooding me with his hot, salty-bitter come, his ass spasming and grasping at my probing finger.

At last I released him, licking my lips like a satisfied cat, admiring him lying disheveled on my bed, the picture of a very satisfied man.

He smiled very big and stretched again and rolled over, revealing one of the cutest little white butts I’ve ever had the pleasure of ogling.  I was just starting to wonder how long his turn-around time might be, and whether he’d be at all interested in licking my pussy in the meantime.  Then he saw the clock on my bedside table.

“Oh crap,” he said, sitting up, “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hustle bunnies!”

I lay on the bed and watched him hurriedly get dressed.  I think that’s so sexy; I love watching a guy –or a girl- get dressed.  I wished that I had time to properly masturbate, but I’d seen the clock too, and I also was running late for work.

“Thanks for everything!” he said, “Last night was amazing, and so was this morning!  I hope we can all get together again soon.  Tell Ana I’ll see her at the next meeting.” He stopped, suddenly unsure of himself, then he kissed me quickly on the lips.  “See you soon!” and he slipped out through the door.

There were three condom wrappers torn open on the bedroom floor.  Daaamn!  I checked the clock.  I had just enough time to take a really fast shower and get dressed.    I thought about whacking off really quick under the hot running water, but I decided to wait.  I wanted to take my time and make it a really good one.

The first thing I saw in the kitchen was the big oversized calendar I didn’t remember taping to the wall.  The days were crossed out in black magic marker.  According to the calendar, it was Wednesday October 13th.  How had it gotten to be Wednesday already?  How had it gotten to be October?

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to today’s date on the calendar: Doc Appt, 3:30.  I didn’t remember making a doctor appointment.

The fridge was covered in yellow post-its.  There was a big pink one front and center with large block lettering on it:


It sort of made sense, actually.  I couldn’t remember anything.  It was all kind of blurry.

I made coffee, savoring the lingering taste of his maleness in my mouth: salty, sweaty, tangy, musky, comey.

I got on my bike and started pedaling.  The early fall morning was bright and shiny and made my eyes squint.  I got to school just before the tardy bell.  My first class was pre-algebra: 30 fidgety 7th graders, and not one of them looked in the least bit familiar.  Fortunately I had left myself detailed notes, and an excellent lesson plan.  I could get through this day.

Apparently I had packed a brown bag lunch for myself the day before.  I’d have to make sure and do the same thing again tonight before bed.  I couldn’t wait for Ana to get home.  It seemed like forever since I’d seen her.  Did she even still have the same job?

The rest of my classes went by ok: Geometry, Algebra, another Pre-Algebra.  The kids were all strangers to me, but I knew the material and I had left myself excellent notes, so it wasn’t any problem to teach.  I was pretty sure they couldn’t even tell I was winging it.

One of the girls in my 9th grade Algebra II class kept looking at me funny.  It was a hungry, flirtatious, knowing kind of look.  She was kind of goth in a nerdy way (or nerdy in a goth sort of way), smart, and just painfully cute.  Had we done anything together?  That would be unethical and illegal and could get me fired if not actually jailed.  I could totally picture myself sitting on top of my desk while she ate me out, fondling her ripe young breasts while she licked my clit.  I hoped I’d had the good sense not to molest her, but I just didn’t know and she kept staring at me in a way that gave me butterflies in the worst kind of way, a sensation that was not entirely unpleasant.

After the last class let out, I sat down to write myself a detailed set of notes for tomorrows classes, and to let myself know how far we had gotten and what homework I had assigned.  I had some time to kill before my doctor appointment; maybe I had planned it that way.

I was sitting behind my desk, obliviously writing to myself, when I heard the classroom door open and close.  I looked up, and a beautiful raven-haired woman was looking intently at me with smoldering eyes.

Was that Ana?  All of a sudden, I realized that I had no visual memory of her.  I knew she was beautiful, I knew that I loved her, but I couldn’t remember, not even a little bit, what she looked like.  This might be her, coming to pick me up from work, but I really wasn’t sure.

“Ana?” I croaked.

“No, I’m Peggy, Milo’s mother” she said, “We talked for a long time yesterday, and you said you’d like to meet up after school today.  Well, here I am!  You warned me you might not remember…”

She was hot.  Older than me, by maybe ten years, with long dark hair that was almost certainly dyed, and a very tall slender figure that was accentuated by an almost-scandalously short skirt and a tight black sweater that showed off her smallish boobs to their very best advantage.  She wore a bright band of gold on the third finger of her left hand.  Oh Peggy, you are one hot mama!  Are you flirting with me?  Did we flirt yesterday?  Did we do more than just flirt?

“Apparently my memory isn’t functioning properly,” I said smiling politely, “Ever since the accident.”

“That’s what you told me yesterday,” Peggy said, biting her lower lip fetchingly, “Maybe we could continue this conversation in my car.  Can I offer you a ride somewhere?”

She was parked in a corner of the school parking lot, under a big gloriously golden-leafed oak tree.  Her car was an expensive-looking black muscle car, a Mustang or a Camaro or something like that.

We got in.  It seemed to me that sexual tension was absolutely crackling between us.  My pussy was moist and my clit felt swollen and tender.  I wondered if she felt the same way, or if she was really just offering me a friendly ride to the doctor’s office.

She closed the driver’s side door after herself, but didn’t buckle up or start the engine.  She placed her hand lightly on my thigh.  Underneath my grey slacks, inside my panties, my pussy drooled with horny anticipation.

“I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” she said with a smile that was almost shy.  Her hand, maybe unconsciously, was softly stroking my thigh.  Every time it brushed up toward my crotch, I felt a wave of almost uncontrollably red-hot lust.  “I was thinking about you all day today.”   She smiled again.  Enchanting.  “I thought about you last night before I went to sleep.

“If my husband knew, he’d kill me.  Or else he’d want to watch.  Which might not be an all bad thing either…

The way her hand was petting my thigh was absolutely killing me.  My cunt was swollen and hot and hungry, and I was sure I was soaking all the way through my slacks.  I wanted my clothes to be off.

“Did Milo do ok in class today?” I wracked my mind… Milo: a youngish-looking thirteen year old with glasses and a worried look on his face.  Now that I remembered I could see his mom in him.  I recalled that he’d done well on his homework and had volunteered an answer in class.  I told Peggy and she seemed relieved.

“It’s so weird that you’re his teacher and I’m his mother.  God, if he had any idea…”

Her stroking hand had reached my crotch, softly petting me just above where my clit was screaming ‘TOUCH ME TOUCH ME!!’  I could help myself no more.  I reached over the stick shift and grabbed Peggy’s sweater, pulling her to me and kissing her hard on the lips.

She kissed me back ferociously, her hand finding my breast and squeezing hard.  She tumbled across the gear shift on top of me, her lips mashing into mine.  Fumbling, I found the lever that reclined the passenger seat.

When was the last time I’d fooled around in a car?  I can tell you exactly: it was my junior year of high school, with Mia, this girl on the volleyball team who I wasn’t exactly friends with, but with whom I had a torrid and steamy sex-ridden six-month affair.  We had lost our virginity to each other, late at night, parked at the end of a semi-abandoned dirt road, surrounded by trees and empty beer cans.  It was broad daylight here, and the school parking lot was far from abandoned.  Just that moment, I really didn’t give a shit.

Peggy had both her hands tangled in my hair and was kissing me hard and deep.  Her breasts were pressed up against my own.  Her skirt had fortuitously ridden up, and I let my hands explore her bare legs, feeling their way up her smooth firm thighs and stroking her through her silky panties.

It didn’t take me very long to push her panties aside and let my fingers slip inside.  She was very wet: furry, hot, and slippery.  Two of my fingers slid right up her hungry cunt; my thumb bumped against her hard little clit and she moaned into my mouth.

My fingers were knuckle-deep in her pussy, and she was humping back hard against my hand, but my wrist was in an awkward crampy position, so we rolled over.

I pulled her panties off and tossed them aside.  They were black, of course, lacy and frilly, cut into a high V shape.  She spread her legs wide, resting one high heel on the dashboard, the other flailing off into the steering column.  Peggy’s pussy was revealed to me in all its glory.  She had a mass of black pubic hair, thick and dark and slick with her juices.  She had big, meaty lips that folded open, and her clit stood boldy out, a fat little pea.

Kneeling in the cramped space in front of the passenger seat, I stuck my head between her thighs and started licking joyously.  Her taste was clean, tangy, hot, slippery, sexual.  I loved losing myself into her cunt.  I slurped up and down her pussy, dragging my tongue from her ass cheeks all the way up to her clit and back again.

What Peggy liked best, it turned out, was having her pussy fingered while just the tip of my tongue teased around her swollen clit.  I lost track of how many times she came like that.  More times than I would have thought physically possible, and very loud and violent at that.  Whenever she came, her stomach muscles heaved and flexed, her back arched, her thighs squeezed my head hard, and she let loose with a blood-curdling scream as if she were being murdered.  I just kept fingering and licking and trying to get enough air into my lungs to avoid passing out.

After, I don’t know, ten or twelve of these, three fingers up her pussy, another finger halfway up her butt, my aching tongue dancing around and just brushing against her clitoris, she finally pushed me away gasping “Enough… I can’t take any more!”

I came up, grinning.  My fingers were totally coated in her come, stuck together and dripping off me.  I half expected the car to be surrounded by a crowd of horny students and teachers, drawn from blocks around by Peggy’s screaming orgasms; but the lot was deserted.

“My God…” Peggy said, still out of breath, “You are just amazing!”

I was absolutely squirming for her to get into my pants.  But then I remembered my doctor appointment.  I was already ten minutes late.

“Shit,” Peggy cursed, maneuvering her skirt back down and her way back into the drivers’ seat.  It wasn’t very graceful, but it was cute.  “I’ve got to get back to the house in time to meet Milo when he gets home.  I can drop you off at your doc’s.  Come on!”

She drove me over to the doctor’s office.  It was a short drive, and she left her hand casually in my lap, stoking my leg through my pants.  By the time we got there I was ready to straddle the gear shift and shove it right up my cunt.  I was so wet and turned-on it was ridiculous.

“I’m all booked up the rest of the week,” Peggy told me as she dropped me off, “But we could get together next Monday after school if you like.  I’ll take good care of you next time, I promise.”

“I won’t remember” I said.

“I know.  Write yourself a note.  Thanks again Sexy!” She blew me a kiss and drove away.

I was fifteen minutes late when I checked in with the receptionist.  She told me to have a seat.  I waited there another ten or fifteen minutes.  I passed the time flipping through old news magazines, imagining the people in the pictures naked and squeezing my thighs together, semi-masturbating in the waiting room.

I liked my doctor immensely.  He was a dapper little man in a neat suit who spoke very precisely and came across as caring and intelligent.  He told me that all the tests so far had come back negative, and that he wanted to schedule another CAT scan.  He wrote me an appointment card, told me to post it in a place where I couldn’t miss it.  Then he put his hand on my shoulder.  “Don’t worry,” he said, sounding worried, “We’ll figure this out.  This kind of thing is rarely permanent.”

Outside, the bright October day was clouding over, turning dark and threatening.  There was a chill in the wind, and I wondered if it might not rain.  It was a fairly quick walk home from the doctor’s office.  It was only a mile or so, and the way home took me straight through the park.

The park was forlorn and empty.  In this light all the trees seemed muted and dead.  Dry leaves rustled in the wind.  I realized with a start that I’d left my bike at work, chained up in the rack in front of the school.  Crap, I could be home already!  I’d have to write myself a post-it tonight or tomorrow I’d have no idea where my bike was.

I made eye contact with a fairly cute-looking guy who was walking the other direction.  He smiled at me, a big friendly smile, and I smiled absently back.  He stopped and turned around, and then we were walking together.   He was tall and skinny, in his early twenties, with hair the color of straw.  His hand found mine and our fingers clasped.  I wondered where I knew him from.  There was a highly interesting looking bulge going on in the front of his tight black jeans.

I maneuvered us off the main path and we sat down on a park bench by a little bridge and made out for a while.  He was an aggressive kisser, and that was exactly how I liked it at that moment.  I liked him holding my wrists down and forcing his tongue down my throat and grabbing and squeezing my breasts like silly putty, tormenting my erect nipples through my bra.

I unzipped his pants and fished out his cock.  It was long and thin and uncircumcised.  I started jerking him off, right there in the open.  He leaned back unsnapping his fly, giving me full access.  I tugged his pants down a little bit so his zipper wouldn’t chafe on the goodies.

His cock pointed straight up in the air like an obelisk.  It was exceedingly veiny and seemingly hairless.  As I worked my hand up and down, the scarlet head kept flirtatiously peeking out and then disappearing underneath his foreskin, like a shy little elf.  I found that quite charming.

I lubricated the whole situation with my spit, and cupped his balls against the chilly autumn air with my free hand.  Giving a world-class handjob is like conducting a symphony orchestra.  Again and again I brought him right to the edge, squirming inches from his peak before backing off, only to slowly build up to another crescendo.  I varied my tempo subtly, until he was wordlessly begging for it.  His cock was hot and red and pulsating and his balls were swollen and tight.  I squeezed his dick hard in my hand and began pumping him deliberately faster and faster until there was no going back.  He wailed like a girl and raised his ass off the park bench, fucking toward the sky.  At the very last second I dropped my mouth onto his cock so as to not waste a drop of his come.  I felt his cock twitch violently as he came, squirting and squirting again, filling my mouth with his hot sticky precious juice.

It’s funny how no two people’s come tastes the same.  He was saltier than Ken had been that morning, stronger tasting, but by no means unpleasant.  I savored his flavor, the sensation of having a mouth full of semen before I finally came up for air.

“Wow.” he told me, “Just Wow.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed to say this,” I said, “But I don’t remember your name…”

“I’m Mike,” he said, grinning drunkenly.  “What’s yours?”

I don’t know you??

“No,” he said, still grinning, his soft cock lounging out on display for anyone who happened to be walking by, “But I’d love to.  Could I have your phone number?”

“I should really be going.” I said.

“Alright,” he said, “See you around then…”

The rain had started by the time I got home, a cold and soaking rain that glued my shirt to my skin and made my shoes squish on the sidewalk.  I wished I’d packed a rain jacket.  I wished I hadn’t forgotten my bike.

When I let myself into the apartment, there was a beautiful woman standing in the kitchen, trying more-or-less successfully to dig a broken-off cork out of a bottle of wine.  She was all curves and freckles and had red hair pulled back in a pony tail and a sexy butt and outrageously big boobs and an even bigger smile and I knew in a rush of emotion that it was Ana.

“Welcome home!” she said, “I was going to cook us dinner, but then I decided I’d rather order a pizza and fuck.  How was your day?”

I told her everything.  She alternately grinned and tut-tutted.

“Girl,” she said, “You need to be more careful with strange guys you don’t know.  We should get that tattooed on the back of your hand: Ask Him If He Knows Your Name FIRST.

“Was it too weird this morning?  Sorry I didn’t have time to leave a better note.”

“No, it was fine, it was fantastic,” I said, “How about last night?  Was it hot?”  I’d always wanted to have a threesome, but I’d never gotten the chance.

“Oh my god, it was so hot!  We both went down on him, then he fucked me while I ate you out, then he watched while we did a 69, then I got to watch him fuck you.  The guy could just keep going and going.  It was amazing!  I kept licking your clit and making you come on his cock.  I had my finger up your ass while he was fucking your pussy… I could totally feel his cock moving inside you.”

“I’d like to have more than just your finger up my ass… this has been the most sexually frustrating day ever!”

Ana grinned wickedly.  “I think that could be arranged.”  Just then the doorbell rang.  It was our pizza.

Over greasy slice of pepperoni pie, I told Ana about the girl in my algebra class who had been giving me the eye.  “Ana, have I been boinking any fifteen-year old students?”

“Not that you’ve told me,” Ana said, “and you tell me everything.”

After pizza and several glasses of wine, Ana dragged me kicking and screaming into the bedroom.  “I hope they fix your memory soon,” she smirked, “but I hope they don’t fix your sex drive!”

She looked gorgeous naked and I told her so.  Her boobs stood proudly out, huge pink aureole with little dimpled nipples in the center.  Her pussy was shaved bare, which was a new development for me: last I remembered she had a neat little red bush.  I liked the new look.

My panties were an absolute disgrace.  Ana sniffed the soaking wet-come-stained crotch and grinned wickedly as she fumbled with the straps of her harness.

Apparently we’d gotten a new dildo: this one was short and thick and looked more like a goose egg than a penis.  It was off-white and silicone and projected lewdly from her crotch, bobbing slightly as she moved.  “Bend over” she said, and I did.

The sexual tension that had been building in me all day boiled over when I felt her tongue on my ass.  Abandoning any restraint, I came hard and loud and wetly as she tongued my anus.  Her fingers found my pussy, my clit, my asshole, and she played me like an instrument.

When she mounted me, I was more than ready for her.  We didn’t even use any lube, it was all me and her.  With a series of cute little grunts, she worked that fat dildo up my hungry asshole until her crotch was pressed against my butt cheeks, her big breasts squished up against my shoulder blades.  I felt delightfully stretched to the absolute limit, riding a knife-edge of almost unbearable pleasure.  My pussy twitched and gushed, and I squirmed back against the thick dildo in my asshole, savoring the sensations.

She whispered in my ear that she loved me, and proceeded to fuck my ass hard, pulling on my hair and fingering my cunt, making me come over and over again until I was limp as an unstrung marionette.

We carefully disengaged and then I licked her pussy.  Ana has the most beautiful pussy: fat puffy outer lips that press together in a neat and tidy little crease to reveal petite inner labia that are so small they barely exist at all, and a clit that stands out like a miniature cock.  Right now her clit was swollen and livid with excitement and her cunt was beyond wet, oozing come all over her inner thighs, dribbling out in long sticky strands.  I dove in, losing myself in her familiar spice-tinged taste.

I licked all around her clit, the way she likes it, teasing her pussy and her asshole with my fingertips, tormenting her as long as we could stand it before giving over to lust and slurping and finger-fucking her to one violent orgasm after another.

It was great to be back home.

“I love you” I said later on as we snuggled together like a pair of nested spoons.

“I love you too” Ana told me sleepily.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She was already asleep.


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Flirting With Catastrophe

I’d chosen that blouse on purpose because it let my boobs hang out.  Now, as I leaned over the work bench, I felt deliciously self conscious as the front of my shirt gaped open.  I knew he could see my boobies hanging down, and that knowledge made me bold, horny and wet.

“Did you really rape a girl once?”

Uncle Tim sighed and put down the small engine he had been tinkering with.  “No,” he said with a sadness and certainty that made me hate myself for asking, “I have never raped anyone.  Who gave you that idea?”

“Mom.”  Uncle Tim was short, barely half an inch taller than me, but with his shaved head and muscles and all his tattoos he looked powerful and frightening, and I could easily imagine him raping someone.  “She didn’t exactly say so, but she, um, strongly implied it.”

“Ah,” he sighed again, and went back to removing the motor housing.  “I see.  Hand me that screwdriver, wouldja?”

Uncle Tim had huge hands like the paws of a grizzly bear that could be surprisingly delicate.  I could also imagine those hands punching through my bedroom door, shattering the wood, tearing the door off its hinges.  The thought made me shiver.  The words “LETS FUCK” were tattooed across his knuckles in faded blue ink, crisscrossed with a web of thin white scars.  I could easily imagine Uncle Tim raping me, a thought that made my clit twitch and my cunt drool.

“What was it like in prison?” I asked, bending suggestively over the workbench again, just in case he had missed the view the first time.  Under my skirt, the crotch of my panties was wet.  I’d chosen the panties carefully, a skimpy red lacey pair that I thought made my ass look pretty hot when I checked myself out in the mirror.  I’d considered going commando, but chickened out at the last minute.  I wasn’t wearing a bra though.  Even Mom said I didn’t need one.

“It sucked,” he said, not looking at me but fiddling around with the guts of the motor, “It was dehumanizing.  I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be.  Mostly it was incredibly boring.  People would get in fights just to relieve the tedium.  Sometimes it was scary.  Long periods of crushing boredom, punctuated with bouts of ass-clenching terror.  That about sums it up.”

“My mom doesn’t like me hanging out here.”

“No kidding?”

He’d make me suck his dick first.  He’d take me by the hair and force me down on his cock, cramming it into my mouth and down my throat until I choked and then brutally face-fucking me.

I wondered what his penis looked like.  I bet it was like his body: short, but thick and solid.  Uncircumcised, with a bulbous head like a ripe plum, and a compact set of balls.  I wondered if he’d come in my mouth.  I imagined what it would be like to have him flood my mouth with hot sticky semen.  I bet there’d be a ton of it.  I wondered what he sounded like when he came.  Would he call me a bitch, a slut, a fucking whore?  Would he growl like a wild animal?  Or would he come silently, mashing my face into his pubes as he wordlessly pumped hot come down my throat, holding my head in those giant hands until I had swallowed it all?

Uncle Tim seemed to have found the part that was giving him trouble.  He removed it, a tiny little copper fitting, and held it up, squinting at it intensely.  It was amazing how those huge hands with those thick sausage-like fingers could be so careful, so delicate.  I climbed up on the workbench and sat down on the plywood tabletop, casually letting my knees spread apart.  I felt cool air waft up my skirt, caressing my sweaty inner thighs and I knew that if he looked he could see my panties.

“Did you really kill a guy?”

“Is that coming from your mom again?”


“No, that’s not true.”  He set down the little bushing or whatever it was, carefully in a little plastic tray.  “I did hurt a man really bad once, and I’m not proud of that.”

He was standing so close to me I could almost feel his body heat.  I could see his package, an enticing lump in the front of his dirty faded blue jeans.  I was helpless down here in the basement with him.  If he wanted to take me, there was nothing I could do about it.

“Is it true that you were a drug addict?”

“Yeah, your mom got that much right.  For a long time I was on dope.  It was easier than coping with reality.   I don’t advise it, but you gotta choose your own path.”

He selected a new part and carefully inserted it into the guts of the torn-open motor.  I spread my legs a little further apart.  My naked calf ‘accidentally’ brushed against his denim-clad leg.  Concentrating on his work, Uncle Tim didn’t even seem to notice.

“So when was the last time you did it with a girl?”

Uncle Tim set down his socket driver and looked at me seriously, like a butcher appraising a slab of meat.

“Are you sure you’re old enough to be asking me that kind of question?”

“How old do you have to be to start knocking over gas stations?”

“Touché.  Ok, fair enough.  But it was liquor stores, not gas stations.  They keep more cash in the till.  And to answer your question, it’s been a very long time since I was with a girl.”

I felt a thrill of terror run up and down my spine, making me shiver deliciously.  My clit felt fat and hot inside my damp panties.  He might take me right there on the work bench, sweeping the tools and parts aside with one brush of his ropey, apelike arm.  He could undress me as I sat on the table, unbuttoning my blouse with his huge clever fingers while I sat mesmerized by his steel grey eyes, unable to protest.  He would take my skirt off, pull my panties down, sniff the wet crotch and smirk crudely at me, knowing me for the horny little slut that I am.  He’d paw at my breasts, fondling me roughly, twisting and pulling on the nipples for the sheer pleasure of making me squirm and cry.

Then he’d get undressed.  He pull of his t-shirt, black with the white logo of some 1980s hardcore band on the front, exposing his pale flesh, his jailhouse tattoos, a wicked-looking half-moon scar across his chest, his flat pink nipples, his beer belly.  He’d pull off his jeans and his underwear, and there would be his cock, jutting out at me like a spear, hard as diamonds, swollen red and eager.

He’d push me down on my back on the tabletop, covering my face with his huge hand, and he’d climb up on top of me.  I’d feel his bulk above me, the heat radiating off his body, his cock brushing against my sopping-wet pussy.  He’d nudge my thighs apart, and I’d be powerless to resist.

His hard steel eyes staring pitilessly into mine, he’d pierce my virgin cunt with one cruel thrust.  It would hurt, but not too much, and even as I screamed into the slab of his hand, the pain would be washed away by waves of pleasure.  He’d fill me up entirely, skewering me with his cock.  He’d take his hand from my face and replace it with his mouth, kissing me forcefully, brutally as he fucked me.  Almost against my will, I’d feel my body responding, fucking back against him.  He’d sense my orgasm coming, and hold back his own climax, torturing me with his cock, fucking me slow, slow, slower, pulling it almost all the way out and waiting for me to beg for it before shoving it back deep inside.  At last when I could bear no more, when the whimpers and cries of fear and distress had been replaced with gasps and screams of pure pleasure, he’d surrender control, fucking my cunt hard and deep and we’d come together, my pussy milking his cock as he pumped gobs and gobs of semen deep deep inside me.

Or maybe he’d want my ass.  After clearing the work bench with one sweep of his giant arm, he’d lift me bodily up and place me on all fours on the table top.  He’d tear the front of my blouse open, scattering buttons all over the cement basement floor so my tits hung down.  He’d pinch and pull the nipples, chuckling as I squealed and tried to pull away.  He’d lift up my skirt, tear my panties off, exposing my secret parts, my wet pussy and my tender little ass.

He’d spread my ass cheeks with those inexorably strong vice-like hands, exposing my most private places, and I’d bury my face in my arms, powerless to resist.  He’d draw his finger all the way down from the base of my spine, along my ass, over my asshole and into my pussy, and he’d chortle out loud as I whimpered and wiggled at his touch.

I’d feel the red-hot pressure of the head of his penis pressing up against my anus, and I’d swallow hard, panting like a steam train, trying to force my body to relax, dizzy with fear and lust.  And then, lubricated with nothing more than spit and my own pussy juice, he’d slide that big fat cock right up my asshole.

The sensation would be unlike anything I’d ever felt before: not painful, but a kind of intensity that I could only just barely stand.  I’d choke out a strangled little scream, and he’d only grunt and shove a little bit more up inside.  By the time I’d feel like I really couldn’t take any more, like I’d burst, like my poor ass would be split in half, he’d kind of sigh and I’d realize that he was all the way up inside me.

I’d reach back to pet my clit, hot and swollen and needy, coated in the slippery juices that were leaking so copiously from my cunt.  He’d be there already though, his huge finger gently caressing my exquisitely sensitive button, drawing tiny little circles on my clit, bringing me right to the edge.

Slowly, very slowly, he’d start fucking my ass as he fingered my clit.  At first he’d barely move.  The sensation would be amazing.  I’d be groaning now, begging for it, humping back against him.  He’d get more and more excited, forgetting to be gentle at all, fucking my ass harder and deeper.  He’d slide one of those huge fingers up my cunt, and then just when I thought I really couldn’t take any more, he’d slide a second one in alongside the first.

He’d whisper my name, over and over in a low throaty growl as he fucked my ass, and his thumb would keep bumping into my engorged clit, totally sending me over the edge.  I’d come on him, a long, drawn-out wailing orgasm, and my spasms would set him off.  He’d fuck my ass hard with abandon, taking his pleasure in my body, ignoring my screams and pulling hard on my hair until he came, shooting his come straight up my butt, his cock twitching as he came, gallons and gallons of semen, and that would make me come again, and then at last he’d collapse on top of me, panting and sweaty, his massive bulk almost crushing me, our bodies pressed together on top of the worktable, his lips in my tangled hair, his hot breath on my neck, his slippery cock between my ass cheeks, a big wet sticky mess.

My panties were really drenched.  “Uncle Tim?”  I desperately hoped I didn’t sound desperate.

He almost had the motor housing reassembled.  “Hmm?”

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

He set the motor down and fixed me with those steel grey eyes, and I experienced another jolt of raw fear.  “Sweety,” he said gently, “Didn’t your mother tell you I’m gay?”


“Hand me that screwdriver again, wouldja?”  He tightened up the last couple of screws and wiped his greasy hands on his black punk-rock t-shirt.  “Whaddya say we go get lunch?”

Later on, after cheeseburgers down at the diner, as we sat across the table from each other and sipped our Cokes, I once again squirmed under his inscrutable steely gaze.  The tattooed words on his knuckles taunted me.

“I feel like a total asshole” I told him.

“Go easy on yourself Sugar,” he said, “You put it out there, and that counts for a lot in my book.  Hell, you had me halfway there, and I don’t even do girls.”

That made me feel a little better.  That was one of the things I liked best about Uncle Tim; he never talked down to me.  He always treated me like an adult.

“Hey Uncle Tim, if I bought something on the internet, could I have it shipped to your address?”

He raised an eyebrow.  “What, something you wouldn’t want your mother to see?  Sure, no problem.”

We finished our Cokes in silence.

“Uncle Tim,” I asked after the waitress had taken away the bill, “If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?”

“I wouldn’t have got caught.”


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Good Times

Jim was a beautiful drunk.  I first laid eyes on him over at the Good Times Saloon.  The Good Times was a very blue-collar bar around the corner from my apartment building.  Some afternoons when the writing wouldn’t come, I’d take the elevator down to the street and roll on into the Good Times and park my wheelchair at a table in the back and drink gin-and-tonics and watch the local action until I was seeing double.

He was tall and rangy and ropily muscular in a way that suggested hard, low-paying manual labor rather than the gym.  He had flames tattooed up and down his sunburned arms, and he had big beautiful hands, and tragic grey eyes.

He didn’t notice me.  Why should he notice a plain-looking middle-aged woman in an electric wheelchair drinking alone?  But I noticed him.  I all kinds of noticed him.

When I asked him what he was drinking, he said ‘Tequila’, so I bought him a shot of Cuervo.

He had drifted up here from Texas with his pickup truck and his dog, following a girl.  The girlfriend had of course broken his heart shortly after they’d moved in together and he was struggling to make ends meet.  He was the kind of guy who had the worst kind of luck, and it was never precisely his fault.

He was part cowboy, part musician, part carpenter, part welder, part sculptor, and all trouble.  Exactly my cup of tea.  Carlos, the bartender du jour, winked knowingly from behind the bar.  Inside my panties, my clit perked right up and my pussy salivated.

I was nervous about propositioning him.  All the usual reasons.  What if he said No?  What if he thought I was a freak?  What if he laughed at me?  But I knew he wouldn’t say no.  It was only two in the afternoon, and he was already on his third or fourth shot of tequila.  He was telling me about how he was having trouble making rent, how he couldn’t find any work.  The unions kept all the decent paying work locked up; illegal Chinese and Mexicans flooded the labor market.  He’d sold a sculpture last month, but had to spend the proceeds to fix his truck.

“How would you like to make some cash?” I asked him.

“Hell yeah,” he replied, “I’m a good carpenter.  I’ve been doing light construction since I was fifteen.  I could remodel your apartment, renovate your bathroom…”

“I just want to watch you fuck.”

That stopped him dead, right in the middle of reaching for a shot glass.  He blinked two or three times.  “Fuck?”


“Fuck who?”

“Different people.  While I watch.  I’ll give you forty bucks a pop.  Cash.”

“When do I start?”

“Tomorrow night.  Come by my apartment building around eight.”


I decided to try him out on Ashley, an escort whose services I employed from time to time.  She claimed to be putting herself through nursing school.  It might even have been true.

Ashley showed up right at eight.  We sat down and had a drink and caught up on gossip together.  I kept checking the clock on the kitchen wall as we chatted.  Me and Ashley get along really well.   I’d almost call us friends.  She’s a smart girl and good company, but she does charge by the hour, and she ain’t cheap.

The doorman buzzed Jim up around eight thirty, quarter to nine.  When he walked in the door I could smell the liquor on him, ten feet away.  Ashley and I took one look at each other and nodded: “Off to the shower with you, Mister.”

When Jim came out of the shower, he was naked and clean and looking delicious.  Ashley was all ready to go, lounging on the bed, naked except for her black thong panties.  I positioned my wheelchair for optimal viewing, with my vibrator close at hand.

Our boy looked pretty damn hot: kind of a yellow complexion and a bitch of a farmer’s tan, but a nice body, tall and lean with lots of muscles and scars and interesting tattoos (in addition to the flaming sleeves, there was a little monkey on one shoulder, a she-devil with bat wings and huge tits on the other shoulder, and a square-rigged sailing ship on his thigh), and those big sexy hands of his.

Ashley went right to work, applying that talented and well-paid tongue of hers.  Whether it was because of stage fright or booze, or a combination of both, it took Jim a while to get it up.  The wait was worth it though: watching his cock get hard was a joy to behold.  It was like watching a time-lapse film of a flower growing and spilling into bloom.  He wasn’t exceptionally long, but he was thick, and his cock had a pronounced upward curve.

Ashley certainly seemed to approve.  She wiggled right out of her skimpy black panties, and I could see that her neatly waxed pussy was wet and excited.  She rolled a condom down Jim’s proud shaft, pushed him down on his back on the bed, and climbed onboard for a ride.

She opened up her pussy with two fingers, and very deliberately dragged herself back and forth across the condom-sheathed head of his cock until he was moaning out loud, begging for it.  Then, with a very satisfied little smile, she slowly lowered herself onto him, impaling herself, filling her cunt with cock.

I pressed the vibrator hard against my clit as they fucked.  Ashley bounced up and down on his cock, which glistened sexily with her wetness.  She fucked him slowly at first, and then faster and faster, and louder and more and more out of control.  He was grunting and groaning and humping her back.  Ashley told me later on that her orgasm was real, and I believed it.  Her tits were bouncing furiously, her forehead wrinkled in concentration.  Every muscle in Jim’s body was clenched, every tendon tensed.  He looked like a wild animal.  His cock made sexy slurping noises as it slid in and out of Ashley’s wet wet pussy.  She was rubbing her own clit with one finger as they fucked furiously.  My panties were down around my ankles, the seat of my wheelchair was soaked.  I timed my own orgasm to coincide with theirs.  Ashley was a screamer, and the walls of my apartment reverberated with her cries as she came; Jim was a silent orgasmer and the look on his face as he shot off inside her totally set me off.  It was one of the best I’d ever had.

“That was the best scene I’ve ever done,” I told Ashley later on over gin-and-tonics.

She nodded her head enthusiastically.  “Can we keep him?”

Over the next several weeks, I made employed Ashley and Jim’s services a lot.  What the hell, I could afford it.  I gave Jim a hundred bucks and sent him to a doctor for a full check-up, blood tests, the works.  Surprisingly enough, he came back clean.

I got to watch Jim fuck Ashley in a whole variety of different positions.  My favorite (and Ashley’s) was having him do her from behind.  She’d get down on all fours, tits hanging down and hair fetchingly mussy, and I’d have a fine view of Jim’s taut buttocks humping away, slowly at first, then faster and more urgently.  I loved watching those big, powerful, dexterous hands of his: fondling her breasts, pulling her hair, playing with her clit, slapping her pretty white ass.  I loved it when he’d wet one of those thick fingers of his and slip it right up her asshole.  (So, apparently, did she.  Ashley claimed to come every time with Jim, and even if that wasn’t strictly true, then at least she did a damn fine job of faking it.)  I loved watching him come, either buried deep inside her pussy, or yanking the condom off at the last moment and jerking himself off onto her, squirting oodles of gooey white guy-juice all over her face, tits, ass, cunt, or wherever took his fancy.  Sometimes she’d suck him off just like a porn star, and that was pretty freaking hot too.

Often I’d treat them both to dinner, either taking them out to a restaurant beforehand, or ordering pizza or Thai food after the scene.  They could both use more solid food than they were getting.

“Our boy Jimmy should try laying off the booze a little bit.” Ashley told me one night while we were waiting for Jim to make his appearance.

‘And you my dear,’ I thought but didn’t say, ‘should try easing off on the cocaine just a touch.’


One afternoon, when I was on my way out to a meeting with my literary agent, Mrs. Krapowski, my downstairs neighbor, stopped me in the hall.

“Who is that delicious young buck who’s been coming by so often lately?  Don’t tell me he’s your new visiting nurse?”

In the past, I had explained Ashley away as a home healthcare provider.  Which, in a way, she was.

“Jim?” I said, “Oh, he’s just a friend.”

“Really… just a friend?”  Mrs. Krapowski gave me a look like a large bird sizing up a particularly juicy worm.  “You can tell me, he’s your boy-toy, isn’t he?”

I admitted it.

“My oh my!” Mrs. Krapowski exclaimed, looking at me with envy burning in her eyes.  I wasn’t used to getting envious looks from other women.  I kind of liked it. “What I wouldn’t give for a slice of that pie!”

Mrs. Krapowski was about ten years older than me and married to a plumber.  She was a big woman, in every sense of the word, but she had a good honest laugh and a warm smile, and that goes a long way in my book.  I felt like I’d be a lousy friend, a bad neighbor, if I didn’t offer.  Besides, I had a suspicion that it might be really hot to watch.


If Jim was surprised by my choice of partners for him for the evening, he hid it pretty well.  He was very polite, and introduced himself to Mrs. Krapowski, and shook her hand, and I could tell that she was quite charmed.  We promptly dismissed Jim to the shower – he’d come straight from work and was covered in sweat and construction grime.  If he’d been drinking, it was only a beer or two.

“I suddenly feel a little bit shy,” Mrs. Krapowski told me as she started to disrobe.  She wasn’t really a fat lady.  She was just big: tall and curvy with a hefty bust, a big round belly and butt, thick thighs, and wide hips.

“Don’t worry about Jim.  He’s totally non-judgmental.”

“Oh, it’s not him.  I’m feeling shy about being naked in front of you.”

I didn’t know quite what to say to that.  She grinned a big, wolfish ear-to-ear grin, and unsnapped her bra, setting her enormous breasts free.  She wiggled out of her big white panties, revealing a lush patch of dark, curly hair, and then she was standing a little too close to my chair.  I felt something electrical pass between us, and my clit twitched nervously.  Then Jim emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and the moment passed.

Mrs. Krapowski may have felt shy about undressing in front of me, but she seemed to have no qualms at all as far as Jim was concerned.  She whipped the towel right off him with one swift yank, revealing him in all his tattooed, farmer-tanned glory.  She pounced on his penis like an overgrown kitten onto a ball of yarn, and proceeded to bring him from flaccid to rock-hard in record time, licking, sucking, slurping, stroking, and squeezing him between her huge breasts until his dick was at its beautiful, up-curving maximum.

She practically manhandled him between her meaty thighs, grabbing his head and steering him like a horse, and he immediately dove in, pleasuring her enthusiastically with his tongue.

Jim went down on her for well over an hour.  In porn videos, that’s the part I usually fast-forward through, but this kept my attention just fine.  Mrs. Krapowski was a very vocal and demonstrative recipient, and I lost track of how many times he made her come.  The woman seemed to be an orgasm machine!  I loved watching her shake and squirm with Jim’s face mashed into her crotch, and I loved watch Jim, and his cute little white butt, as he licked diligently away.

Finally Mrs. Krapowski pushed Jim away.  “I think I’m ready for my dessert now,” she smirked.  My skirt was piled up on my lap, and my own juicy pussy and aching clit were more than ready for the main event.

Mrs. Krapowski had a very pretty cunt.  In contrast with the rest of her, it was quite petite and ladylike, with neat inner labia and a shy little clitoris that she forced out from beneath its hood with two fingers.  She was sopping wet: her thighs and Jim’s face were slick with it.  She lay on her back on the bed while Jim rolled a condom down his painfully-hard looking erection.

He impaled her with a grunt, burying his cock all the way to the balls in her eager pussy.  She responded ecstatically, cooing like a bird, enveloping him deep in her juicy folds.  He started fucking her hard and fast, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Oh Jimmy! Oh my- Oh my goodness!  You make me feel like a virgin all over again!  Oh my goodness, you’re going to make me come!”

She wasn’t the only one.  I could see it in Jim’s face, the set in his jaw and the intensity of his stare as he urgently fucked her cunt, and I wasn’t far off myself either.  I had my vibrator pressed firmly against the swollen button of my clitoris.

Mrs. Krapowski came first, her coos escalating in volume until I was sure the neighbors would complain and I’d get an angry letter from the co-op board.  Her body thrashed and heaved as her orgasm peaked and peaked again.  Jim pulled out, hurriedly unfurled the condom, and squirted copious amounts of semen all over Mrs. Krapowski’s heaving belly and breasts.  That was enough for me.  He always looked so incredibly sexy when he came, always that expression of silent ecstasy.  I gave myself over to my own orgasm, letting waves of pleasure wash over my body like breaking surf as my vibrator hummed and my cunt quivered.

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Krapowski gasped out loud, “I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun!”


Jim picked up a full-time job as a non-union welder, and was doing a ton of overtime for a couple weeks, coming back to my place filthy and exhausted, sometimes too tired to fuck; but his boss turned out to be a crook and his paycheck bounced.  I loaned him a couple hundred bucks so that he could make rent, money that I expected never to see again.


My niece Jackie was over one afternoon for high tea.  Jackie wasn’t really my niece; she was my friend Janis’ daughter.  She was still in high school, and wanted to be a writer.  I thought she had a shot at it too.  She had the talent.

High tea, for us, meant smoking a bowl and then sitting around my apartment sipping a Coke (Jackie) or a gin-and-tonic (me) and talking about whatever we felt like, but mostly sex and writing.  We’d been doing high tea together, on an irregular basis, since Jackie was fifteen.  She’d hooked me up with some of my favorite internet porn, and I’d shown her what I’d never shown anyone else: my rough drafts.

“I really want to try anal sex!” Jackie said to me over her can of Coke, her eyes sparkling.

“So?” I sipped my gin-and-tonic, “Tell your boyfriend to go slow and use lots of lube.”

“Boyfriend?” Jackie made a face, “We broke up.  Besides, Rickie was straight as an arrow.  He wouldn’t even kiss me after I had his dick in my mouth.”

I’d never told Jackie about the little scenes I staged for myself.  That never seemed quite fair, as I got to hear every juicy detail of her sex life, from losing her virginity on forward.  Now seemed like as good a time as any to spill the beans.  Plus, dirty old biddy that I am, I had been itching to see Jackie naked for a long time.

She listened quietly as I told her, and explained my proposition.

“Are you serious?” Jackie said when I was done talking.  “That would be so awesome!  Is he pretty cute?”  I nodded.  “When could we do it?  Tonight?”

“I’ll make a phone call,” I said, rolling into the kitchen and making myself another drink.

By the time Jim came over, I was half-drunk, and Jackie was bouncing off the walls.  When he finally walked in the door (forty-five minutes late, as per normal), Jackie grinned broadly and gave me a secret thumbs-up.

Jim scooped her right up and carried her squealing over to the bed.  Jackie was a skinny, very petite girl, and she looked like a rag doll in Jim’s humongous hands.  She shrieked happily when he dumped her onto the sheets, her long hair spilled out in a beautiful golden-brown tangle.

“He’s like a slave?” Jackie asked me, her eyes aglow, “He’ll really do anything you want?”

“He’s not a slave, he’s a performer,” I said, “And yes, he’ll pretty much do anything you want.  Am I right Jim?”

He grinned broadly and nodded.

“Well then, I’d like for him to lick my pussy!” Jackie giggled, “If you don’t mind, that is…”

Jim didn’t mind one bit.  He undressed Jackie like a kid opening a present, carefully and meticulously so as not to spoil any of the wrapping.  He lifted her little black dress up over her head, revealing non-matching underwear.  I held my breath.  The bra came off, and the panties too.  She was absolutely gorgeous naked, all lithe and willowy with perky little breasts, a soft furry pussy, and an ass to die for.

Jackie lay down on her back on the bed, her dishwater blonde hair spilling off the side, framing her head.  She lifted her knees to her chest and grinned at me upside-down.  Jim peeled off his tight white t-shirt and dove in between her thighs into Jackie’s fluffy brown muff.  I have to say, at that moment, I felt distinctly jealous of him.  The expressions that passed across Jackie’s face, and the slurping and licking noises that Jim made had an immediate and moistening effect on me.  Feeling Jackie’s eyes on me, I scooted my pants down and started petting my clit, spreading the slickness of my cunt up and down my sex.

Then Jackie squirmed away, giggling.  She rolled over onto her tummy and wiggled her cute little tush invitingly at Jim.  He was no dumb bunny; he could take a hint when it was waved in his face.  He planted his face between her soft sweet cheeks and kept on licking.

“Oh my God!” Jackie announced to me, “He’s licking my butt!  He’s got his tongue like all the way up my ass!  It feels amazing!  He’s going to make me come!”

And then she did come, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world.  She thrashed and squirmed on the bed, her eyes clenched tight and her cheeks flushed, while all the time Jim’s face was buried between her ass cheeks, his hands under her hips.

When she was finally done coming, Jim stripped out of his blue jeans and boxers.  His cock curved upward, long, hard, and ripe to be plucked.  I grabbed my vibrator and started it buzzing.

Jackie got up on her knees.  Her cute little boobies hung down like a couple small ripe pears, her rump thrust obscenely up in Jim’s direction.  I could see her tiny little asshole, pink and winking, glistening with Jim’s saliva.

Jim looked questioningly over at me. “You know what she wants,” I told him, “fuck her in the ass!”

We had pre-positioned a bottle of lube next to the bed and Jim emptied about half of it onto his straining erection.

“Tell me him to stop if it hurts,” I told Jackie, who just grinned reached back and spread her cheeks wider for Jim.

It wasn’t like in the porno films where they just jam it straight in and start butt-fucking.  I have to hand it to him, Jim really took his time warming her up properly.

He started out with just one finger, teasing her asshole with it at first and then working just the fingertip gently inside until she was literally begging for more.  He slowly worked his finger in and out until he was finally knuckle-deep and she was moaning.  Then he carefully added a second finger, slowly penetrating Jackie’s upturned ass with his thick digits.  All the time she was moaning softly and rubbing her sopping wet pussy with both hands.  My own clit felt like it was about an inch long, and I was sitting in a puddle of my own juice.  My vibrator was humming happily away.

At last Jim had two finger buried all the way to the hilts inside Jackie’s little asshole.  “I can’t take it much longer,” Jackie said, her voice strained and raspy, “do it to me now!”

Jim’s beautiful cock was glistening with lube as he pressed it up against her anus.  He pressed forward and Jackie whimpered and the livid red head of his penis disappeared inside her anus.   She froze, and the two of them held stock still for a long moment, joined tenuously together.

“more…” she whispered.

Slowly, slowly, agonizingly slowly, Jim’s big cock slid up Jackie’s asshole until he was all the way up inside her.  Together, they started rocking back and forth.  Jackie’s eyes were half-shut, and her fingers had resumed their dance on her clit.

“Oh my God,” she moaned, “He’s fucking my asshole.  It feels so good!  I’m going to come all over again!”

Jim upped the tempo, actively fucking her butt now.  I could see his thick shaft sliding in and out of her butt hole.  There was an intense look of concentration on his face: I could tell he was holding back with everything he had.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Jackie sounded like a tropical bird when she came, her whole body flushed and trembling.  Jim let go at last, fucking her ass hard once, twice, three strokes and then exhaling with a rush and collapsing onto her sweaty back as he came.

The two of them lay naked on the bed together and watched as I brought myself off.  I was so turned on by that point that I didn’t even feel self-conscious about them watching me.


“Would you fuck a dude?  While I watched?”

“Honey,” Jim told me in his sweet Texas drawl, “For you I’d fuck a porcupine.”  He knocked back another shot of tequila.

Carlos was my favorite bartender.  He kept me in free gin and tonics.  He’d also been my very first in-home entertainer.  Carlos would fuck anything, and he had one of the biggest cocks I’d ever seen, in porn or otherwise.

Carlos lifted weights.  He had a shaved head, and there was no hair at all on his body except for his eyebrows and a little dark peach fuzz on his muscular forearms.  The head of his dick was pierced through with a thick steel ring.

Jim was late, as usual, and when he did show up, he was clearly sloshed.  He and Carlos shook hands glowering, and then slowly undressed, eyeing each other like a pair of prizefighters.  The tension in my apartment was thick as smoke.  I was excited and a little scared.

Jim struck first.  He pushed Carlos hard in the center of the chest, sending him sprawling on my hardwood floor.

Carlos was back on his feet in an eye-blink and, crouched down low in a compact mass of muscle, he charged Jim, bowling him over and knocking a lamp off one of my side tables, shattering it.

The guys were pretty evenly matched: Jim was bigger, but Carlos was stronger; Carlos had studied judo, but Jim was meaner.

They fought naked and silent on my living room floor.  The only sound was their heavy breathing, an occasional grunt, and the thwack of flesh-on-flesh.  It was really scary and highly erotic.  My pussy was totally drenched.

I couldn’t tell how much of it was play and how much was for real.  They were fighting hard, but they weren’t really beating the shit out of each other.  At least I didn’t think so.  Carlos had a bloody nose.  Both guys were sporting erections.

Then Carlos grabbed Jim’s arm just as he was swinging a punch.  Jim went flying and landed flat on his back -BOOM- in the middle of my living room floor.  Carlos was immediately on top of him, twisting his neck into a headlock.

“All right,” Jim’s face was purple and the veins in his temple were bulging out.  “I give.” One eye was already starting to swell shut and he’d split a lip.  Carlos released him and he crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“Oh Fuck Yeah!” Carlos crowed triumphantly, “Who’s the man?!”  Blood was streaming out of his nose, smeared all over his face and dribbling onto my floor in fat red drops like a summer thunderstorm.  He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Jim’s hair and jammed his ridiculously long cock down Jim’s throat.

Jim choked and gagged, but didn’t struggle as Carlos face-fucked him.  He managed to take most of Carlos’ length down his throat, which I thought was a pretty impressive feat.  I’m lousy at judging that sort of thing, but I’m pretty sure Carlos was packing at least ten inches, maybe more.

Carlos was humping Jim’s face really brutally, yanking his hair and using Jim’s mouth as a cunt.  Finally, he threw his head back, rammed his cock into Jim so deep his balls were pressed against Jim’s chin.  He held him like that for a long moment.  Every tendon in Jim’s throat strained and bulged out, and his face was bright red.  Then Carlos pushed him away, and Jim sprawled coughing on my bare wood floor.  Carlos towered above him, his hairless, pierced saliva-slick cock standing straight up like an obelisk.

“Next time I fuck you in the ass, pinche jue!” Carlos said.

“Fuck you!” Jim croaked back, “Next time I’m fucking you up the ass!”

And then they were all over each other, kissing and touching, and they landed in a heap right near my wheelchair.  They were a twisted knot, clasped close together like lovers, kissing deeply and rolling around on the floor.

I hadn’t realized just how excited I had become.  My panties were literally soaked through.  I yanked them down and started fingering myself just as they got hold of each other’s cocks.  They started pumping each other’s hard dick, each guy daring the other to come first.

It was absolutely the hottest scene I had ever been witness too, and when they came, (Carlos with a grunt and a curse, and Jim silent as always) they splashed oodles of hot come all over each other, I rubbed my clit fast and hard and my orgasm almost shook me out of my chair.


Me and Jim were hanging out at my table over at the Good Times one afternoon a week or so later.  It was still early, but we were both pretty shit faced already.

Jim had gotten kicked out of his apartment for non-payment of rent.  He and his dog were living in his pickup, parked in a vacant lot over by the East River.  He was still nursing a shiner from his encounter with Carlos.  I thought he looked pretty hot like that.

I killed the last of my gin-and-tonic.  Carlos wasn’t working that day, and the bartender du jour wasn’t even looking our way; he was busy flirting with a gaggle of hipster chicks over near the front.  I felt Jim’s hand on the useless stick that is my right leg.  I moved his hand away.  He put his hand back, higher up my thigh this time.  Dangerously high.  When I didn’t protest, he nudged my skirt out of the way and started caressing me through my panties.

We stumbled, or rather Jim stumbled and I rolled, into my apartment.  I hadn’t meant for this to happen, it went against my better judgment, but there you have it.

He lifted me bodily out of my chair and dumped me onto the bed, where he methodically started stripping my clothes off.  When I was naked, he undressed himself.  His cock was as hard as I had ever seen it.

He lay down on top of me and we kissed for a long time.  It felt good: his naked flesh pressed heavily against mine, his solid weight bearing down on me, his tequila-flavored mouth on my own, his tongue exploring my mouth.

He slid down my body and I froze, petrified.  I felt his hot breath on my cunt.  The room was spinning, wobbling like a dying top.

He started licking, and I gave in to the pleasure.  Holy Shit!  Was it always this good?  If so, then Ashley should have been paying me!  I couldn’t believe how wet I was!  It felt like I was gushing, like an out of control well.  I was sure that I was making a huge puddle on the bed and soaking through the mattress.

Jim had a finger in my asshole, I don’t even know how many fingers up my cunt but it felt like his whole damn hand, and his tongue was doing absolutely insane things to my clit.  I came and I came until I couldn’t take any more.  I pushed him away at long last, gasping for air, my whole body trembling.

He came up from between my thighs with a big wet grin on his face.  He slithered up my body, nudging my thighs even further apart, taking direct aim at my sopping-wet, wide-open cunt with his cock.

“DON’T. YOU. DARE.” I said it through clenched teeth, in a tone that meant business.

He stopped short, the swollen scarlet head of his penis poised just microns from the drooling entrance to my cunt.   “I’ll put a condom on…”


He raised his eyebrows and shrugged and then repositioned himself so that he was straddling my midsection.  He took my little hand in his enormous one, and wrapped it around his hard cock.  I marveled at how hot and silky-soft the skin of his penis was.  I let him move my hand up and down his cock, faster and faster until he came with an ecstatic grimace, shooting gobs and gobs of hot sticky juice all over my tits, neck, and face.

Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of me, squooshing our juices between us.  I savored that sensation.  We lay that way for a long while.  His bulk was heavy on top of me and made it hard to breathe, but I didn’t mind.

“Well,” I said at last, “I think the least you could do is help me take a shower.”

Jim lifted me up and deposited me in my seat in the shower.  He turned the water on and climbed into the tub with me.

I had a very nice time sucking his dick under the hot cascading water.  It was fun making his cock all hard again.  It felt nice in my mouth.  I enjoyed playing with his cock, running my tongue all over the head and the shaft and the balls, squeezing his ass, nibbling on his thighs, kissing his belly.  Unfortunately, Jim wasn’t able to come again, not even when he took matters into his own hands, pushing me gently away and jerking off into my open, waiting mouth.  But he did finger-fuck me to another very nice orgasm.

We toweled off and he helped me get dressed.  I thought it was really sexy watching him move around the apartment, naked, his hard-on waggling like a totem pole.  When his finally put his clothes back on, his erection was clearly visible through his pants.

I loaned him another two hundred dollars.  He didn’t want to take my money, but I insisted.

“You know this can never happen again,” I said.



After he left, I poured myself another gin and tonic.


I got sent out of town for a couple weeks on a book tour, which meant reading the same partial chapter over and over again at chain bookstores across the country and signing autographs until my hand cramped, eating crappy food at chain restaurants, and then jerking off to internet porn in my generic handicap-accessible hotel room.

When I got back to the city, I didn’t see Jim around the Good Times.  There was an envelope behind the bar with my name on in, written in thick pencil in Jim’s shaky block lettering.  Inside was four hundred dollars in greasy, crumpled twenty dollar bills.

I kept hoping that he’d show up, but he didn’t.  I called his cell phone, but it was disconnected.  He was gone.


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Dog Boy’s Got The Blues


Tracy was a nice girl from a nice family who grew up in a nice Midwestern town, the kind of town that exists mostly in corny novels and TV miniseries.  She was a good student and showed a talent for drawing.   She wanted to go to university to be an illustrator or maybe a designer.

When she was a teenager Tracy, like most girls her age started feeling sexy.  Like many teenage girls Tracy wasn’t ready to start fooling around with boys.  Real boys introduced way too many complications.  That left just two options: fooling around with girls (Tracy was self-aware enough to know that she was at least potentially interested, but didn’t know how to go about getting started) and masturbation.  Fortunately she also discovered pornography at about the same time and she soon became a master and frequent practitioner of the art of self-pleasure.

It was early one lazy Saturday morning late in the summer.  The humidity lay over the corn fields like a thick wool blanket.  It was going to be a scorcher.  Tracy was lying naked atop her bed sheets, one hand flipping through the glossy pages of the dirty magazine she had nervously purchased from a Pakistani immigrant a couple of years older than herself at a downtown convenience store the previous night.  Her other hand was busy between her legs, where her pussy was already thick, swollen and extremely wet, and her clit was standing up, poking out in a deliciously obnoxious way.

She was deeply engrossed in a photo spread depicting two large-breasted, heavily made-up girls fooling around together in a hot tub.  The blonde girl’s tongue was outstretched and was almost but not quite touching her brunette friend’s asshole.  As Tracy perused the steamy photographs, Rex nosed her bedroom door open and came trotting happily into the room. Tracy was so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn’t even notice his presence until he jumped up on the bed.

Tracy stifled a scream and sent the magazine flying when the big friendly black lab joined her atop the sheets.  Rex knew he wasn’t allowed up on furniture and it was mortifying to be caught in this condition – shamelessly naked, legs spread wide open and two fingers busy on her wet cunt.  She’d never felt shy in front Rex before. And yet… Tracy couldn’t quite bring herself to shoo Rex down off the bed and she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop rubbing that swollen, slippery button between her legs.  Rex started licking her toes, which tickled and made her giggle.  He really was just a big oversized puppy.

She could have stopped him when he started licking her ankles and her calves, but she didn’t.  Her skin was all sweaty from the excitement and exertion and the humid morning heat and Rex’s tongue sent pleasurable shivers up and down her spine.  In the back of her head she knew where this was headed, but she didn’t stop it.  She rolled over onto her back and continued circling her clit with one slick finger as Rex licked his way up her legs and on to the soft pale skin of her inner thigh. When Rex’s long, slurping tongue found her pussy, it was almost too much.  She had to bury her face in the feather pillow to keep from screaming.  Elsewhere in the house, Tracy’s parents and her kid brother were presumably still asleep.

This was so wrong, so perverted, disgusting and sick.  And yet… The things that Rex’s eager, lapping tongue was doing to her cunt were amazing, better than anything Tracy had ever experienced. Better even than the buzzing handle of her electric toothbrush.  She put her hands behind her head and relaxed into it, letting go as Rex and his long slobbering tongue slurped away at her juicy, super-stimulated cunt.  Before she knew it, she was having an orgasm, a long, drawn-out orgasm, one of the strongest, best orgasms she had ever experienced.

“Good boy, good dog” she scratched Rex’s head between the ears when the tremors had finally ceased and the aftershocks had settled down.  Rex was panting happily and Tracy could see that his penis was erect, pink and unsheathed.

‘This is so wrong,’ Tracy thought, ‘I shouldn’t even be thinking about doing this…’  But Rex had just done such a nice job for her and it was really quite harmless if you thought about it. Certainly it wasn’t any worse than what they had already done and it seemed only fair to get him off too.  Besides, it’d be good practice…

Tracy and Rex’s relationship changed after that.  They’d always been best buddies, but now they were constant companions.  They went for long walks together and sometimes they’d play fetch and sometimes they’d find a secluded spot down by the river to lick, suck and fool around. Afterward, they’d lie together cuddled up in the tall green grass and watch the clouds float by high overhead.  Most nights, after the rest of the family had gone to sleep, Rex would climb into Tracy’s bed.  Some nights they’d just sleep, but more often they’d play a while first.

All this might have been fine, a summer love affair to be treasured and kept secret and not often thought of but never forgotten.  But Tracy was an adventurous girl, and once she got started she discovered that she wanted more, and one thing led to another.

When Tracy missed her period, she knew.  She bought a home-pregnancy test with shaking hands at the drugstore downtown, but she already knew.  She also knew how her pregnancy would be received in the small, conservative town.  Giving up the baby was not, as far as she was concerned, an option.  So the next day instead of going to school, she went down to the bank and withdrew the entire contents of her college fund.  She packed up her things, piled them into her car and then she and Rex headed out of town in her beat-up old white Maxima, bound for the Big City. Nine months later, while Rex waited nervously outside, a rather bemused resident at a crowded public hospital delivered me, a healthy (if somewhat unusual) baby boy.

Tracy waited tables for a while and eventually opened up a tiny shop in the West Village where she sold her pornographic pen and ink drawings.  Tracy’s erotic art became very popular among the city’s rich and kinky crowd, of which there were a surprising number, and she did quite well by it.

Rex got a job with the police department, and retired with full benefits after 9/11.

But enough with the family history.


I was a normal, happy, exuberant child.  When I was fully dressed, the only thing that distinguished me from the other kids was a long furry tail that stuck out the seat of my pants and wagged uncontrollably whenever I was happy or excited.

At school, I was a regular kid.  I was a bit of an outsider, as any kid who is smart and different will be.  I may have been overly fond of chasing balls and my tongue did have a tendency to loll out, but I also got good grades and liked books.  I got along ok, though I didn’t have any close friends until much later.

About the time we hit high school, boys started noticing girls and vice-versa.  I was no exception, but I was also painfully shy and very conscious of being different. So when the other kids were going to school dances or necking on the promenade, I was usually at home, jerking off.

Kat moved to our school from California and she looked every bit the part of a Cali girl.  She was tall, slender and athletic, with long shapely legs, big pert boobs and wavy blonde hair.  She fit right in with the popular girls.  If our school had had a cheerleading squad, she would have been captain.  She wasn’t a dumb blonde either, not one inch of it.  She was, in other words, so far out of my league that I almost didn’t bother masturbating to her.

And then the unthinkable happened:  Kat asked me out.  She came up to me right after pre-calc, didn’t hem or haw, she just asked me straight up.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?  How about Friday night?  We could watch a movie and then hang out and do stuff…”

‘…and do stuff…’  I really did jerk off to her after that, and every night that week.  Part of me was terrified that it was just a cruel joke, that when I showed up for our date a bunch of sneering, laughing popular girls would jump out from behind a bush, snapping pictures with their cell phone cameras and posting shots of the freak online.

But it was just Kat and she didn’t seem nervous at all.  I couldn’t pay any attention to the movie; I was too distracted by her presence next to me.  I can’t remember what the movie was about.  It may have been a romantic comedy.  Heck, I can’t even remember what the title of the film was.  I was too distracted by Kat’s body next to me. Too conscious of my own erection in my pants, agonizing whether or not I was supposed to try and hold hands with her. Kat answered that question for me after the movie let out.  She took my hand in hers and suggested that we go for a little walk in the park.

“I like your tail” she said to me as we walked hand-in-hand past Victorian-era statues and park benches on our way toward the northern, more deserted end of the park.

“I like yours too” I said, and then flushed red.  Was that too bold? Too crude? Too overtly sexual?

Kat didn’t seem to think so.  “Thank you” was all she said, and she squeezed my hand with hers.  I felt as though I were glowing.  My dick was so hard and swollen it almost hurt.

We left the path and picked our way through the darkening woods until we came to a grassy little clearing overlooking the duck pond.  Kat clearly knew her way around this place at night; I was all turned around. We settled down in the crook of a big old oak tree and started kissing.  Her lips felt incredible against mine.  It was all I could do to not shove my tongue all the way down her throat.  My dick felt like it was about to blow out my zipper.  My tail was curled up in a tight, excited spiral.

“Don’t be shy,” Kat told me, placing my hand on her breast.  I could feel her nipple all the way through the layers of fabric.  “Here, I’ll make it easy for you.”  She pulled her shirt off over her head and wriggled free of her black sports bra, setting her breasts free under the soft moonlight.

She was beautiful, she was topless and she wanted me.  I fondled her breasts as we kissed.  They were soft, heavy, smooth, and firm.  She liked having her nipples pinched and played with.  The harder I pinched, the more she seemed to like it. While I played with Kat’s breasts, she was busy playing with my dick through the frustratingly thick denim of my jeans.

Finally she broke off our kiss.  “What do you have going on down there?” she asked, and then she was expertly unbuttoning my pants and tugging down my zipper.

“Good God,” Kat said in a completely different tone of voice, “What is that thing?  What are you?”

She got dressed without another word and stalked off into the darkness, leaving me to find my own way home through the park at night.  By the time I got home, I was too tired and disgusted to even masturbate.


It may have been my imagination, but I don’t think it was.  After my disastrous date with Kat, the girls at school started looking at me differently.  Some of them stared openly; others whispered to each other and giggled.  I even got strange looks from some of the guys.  I didn’t like it.  It made me squirm with self-consciousness.  I started to become depressed and my tail sagged like a day-old french-fry.

Lynda and I had been in the same class since early elementary school.  We were always the two smartest kids in our class, but we’d never seen eye-to-eye.  Lynda was a prissy-missy, an over-achieving good girl with a wickedly sharp tongue.  I on the other hand, had always been a slacker, a weirdo and a bit of a slob.  Lynda would go to a better college than me. One day a week or so after the Kat incident Lynda cornered me up against my open locker.  She may have stood at least two heads shorter than me, her fierce brown eyes level with my solar plexus; but the girl had presence.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” she asked me bluntly. “My parents are going out of town.  You should come over and hang out.”

“Are you joking?” Just two minutes before, a gaggle of popular girls had swooped down on me, pointing and giggling and snapping pictures of my crotch with their cell phones.  I was in no mood to be trifled with.

“Look,” she said tapping one foot impatiently, “Do you want to come over or not?”  Her brown eyes flashed dangerously behind her glasses.

“I’ll be there.” I said as the warning bell rang for class.


I rang Lynda’s doorbell at ten o’clock sharp, just as instructed.  She answered the door, wearing pink teddy-bear print pajamas.

“Oh hi,” she said, “Why don’t you come on in?”

We sat down together on the big white leather couch in her living room.  There was an awkward silence.  I was glad to see that I wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable and ill at ease.

“My parents went up to Boston for the day, some church thing.” Lynda made a face.  “They don’t mind leaving me alone here because I’m a Good Girl.

“Do you want something to drink?” she stood abruptly up.  “Ice tea? Juice?  I could get you some vodka…”

“I’d like a glass of water.” I said.

She ducked out of the room into the kitchen.  As she left, I noticed that Lynda had a really cute little butt.  I’d noticed her ass before, but I’d never really appreciated just how nice it was. Lynda came back with two tall glasses of ice water.  She sat back down next to me on the couch and took a long drink of water.  She adjusted the way her glasses were sitting on her nose.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“No.” I lied.

“I am.” She drained her water glass.

“Me too.” I admitted.

“I’ve never really done this before.” Lynda told me.

“Me either,” I replied possibly a little too hastily.

She turned on me.  “What?  Hooked up with a girl just for sex?  Or are you saying you’re a virgin?”

My tail thumped sheepishly on the white leather couch.

“Oh My God, you are a virgin, aren’t you?!  This is going to be fun!!”

My tail thumped a little harder.

“That is too funny!”  I didn’t think it was funny at all.  “And I always thought you were a total dog boy… no offense.”

“None taken,” I said, trying to preserve a shred of my dignity.

“Listen,” Lynda said, setting down her empty glass and looking seriously over at me, “I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this but I need to warn you, I’m on the rag.”

“That doesn’t bother me.” I said.

“Cool.” Lynda relaxed visibly.  “Awesome.  Do you wanna go upstairs?”

We went up the stairs and into Lynda’s bedroom, where we sat together on the edge of her bed.  I took her small hand in mine and squeezed.  She squeezed back.  Electricity seemed to crackle between us. The bed sheets were purple and the walls were lavender and the whole room was done up in a unicorn/rainbow motif.

“My mother decorated it,” Lynda said and frowned.  “I’d like to kiss for a while first, if you don’t mind.”

I didn’t mind.  I leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.  She responded eagerly, kissing me back voraciously and pressing her small body against mine. Our lips locked together and our fingers intertwined.  Lynda shifted her position so that she was sitting on my lap, her sassy little ass rubbing up against the erection that was threatening to burst free of my pants.  Lynda was a biter and she seemed to be doing her very best to ram her tongue down my throat.  I didn’t mind one bit.  It struck me as kind of funny in a way; I’d only kissed a couple of girls before and I’d always very self-consciously restrained my own tongue.

My hand found her breast.  She wasn’t wearing a bra under her pajama top, and her nipple was hard and pointy.  Meeting zero resistance, I slipped my hand up inside and cupped her naked tit. Her breasts were tiny, not anywhere close to a handful, but they felt absolutely heavenly.  She pressed herself harder against me, and I played with her boobs as we kissed and made out on the side of her bed. We fell backward together onto the sheets.  I ended up flat on my back with Lynda sprawled across my chest.  She broke off our kiss and grinned.

“You’re an amazing kisser!  Who knew…”  She got up, straddling my lap, and peeled off her pajama top.  Her boobs may have been tiny, but they were perfect; absolutely gorgeous little half-globes with compact dark nipples.  She rubbed her bottom playfully across the throbbing log in my pants.  There was a big smile across her face.  “You like…?”

I did like.  I squirmed out of my t-shirt, baring my own chest.  All six of my nipples were pokey and erect.

“I like!” Lynda exclaimed, kissing her way down my chest.  She paused to suck each one, catching each sensitive nipple between her front teeth and pulling gently, making me squirm.

“Now this,” she purred, “I have got to see!”  Her face was right at the level of my crotch, and she was fumbling with the buttons of my fly.

It took a little fumbling, but she finally got all the buttons undone and my dick came bouncing out like an excited puppy released from its pen for playtime.

“Oh my goodness!” she licked her lips, “Wow!  That’s… Very interesting!  Very nice!  Mmm…” She flicked the tip of my swollen dick with her tongue.  I had thought I couldn’t possibly get any harder, but at her touch; my cock trembled and seemed to grow another half inch.  “I am going to make you feel really good. First though,” Lynda’s expression changed, and she suddenly looked small and vulnerable.  She asked me in a small voice, “Would you mind making me feel really good?”

I didn’t mind at all.

I watched ravenously as Lynda stripped off her pajama bottoms.  She was wearing blue cotton panties, which she scooted off and kicked in the general direction of her laundry basket. Hers was the first pussy I had ever seen live and in person.  It was beautiful.  She had a sweet little triangle of very neatly trimmed curly black pubic hair.  Below that, soft lips pouted open invitingly.  A white cotton string dangled out of her pussy like a pull-toy.

She plucked the tampon out and discretely tossed it in the trash. She then shifted position so she was sitting on the bed with her back to the wall and spread her legs.  Her pussy was wide open and I relished the view.  She was really wet and I caught a glimpse of her clit, all pink and shiny.  There was a little trail of blood leaking out and a whole lot of girl come.  Her pussy was at least as excited as my cock was.

She looked incredibly sexy like that.  I told her so and she blushed.  Then I slid my big hands underneath her sassy little butt and lifted her up so that her shoulders lay on the bed and her feet were kicking high in the air and her pussy was right in front of my mouth.  I pulled her to me and started licking, eating her out like I was trying to clean out a pint container of ice cream with my tongue. All my life I’ve been self-conscious about my tongue, even more so than my tail.  My tongue is just too long for my mouth and tends to flop out to one side or the other when I’m not paying attention.  At last I had found a really good use for that oversized tongue of mine.

I thought Lynda tasted delicious.  There wasn’t a ton of blood, but what there was mixed in with her sex juices and tasted amazing.  I delighted in her wiggles and gasps as I tongued her and I loved the feeling of her little ass cupped in my hands.  I explored every single inch of her pussy, inside and out, probing every fold and crevice with my tongue as I pressed inside her hot tangy cunt as far as my tongue would extend.  Every time I licked her clitoris, her whole body shook uncontrollably and she cried aloud. I’m not sure how many times she came.  It seemed to be a more or less constant thing, once I had gotten her going, like a huge summer thunderstorm rolling up a mountain valley.

“Ok!!” she finally pulled away from me, “Ok!  I can’t take any more!  Dear God…” My face was slick with her juices.  “That was amazing!  I am so going to fuck you cross-eyed!!”

She fetched a condom out from the drawer in her bedside table.  I saw a big pink dildo in there as well as a couple other items I couldn’t immediately identify.

She tore the wrapper open and tried to roll the condom down my cock.  It didn’t really work right.  My penis was the wrong size and shape.  We went through three different condoms; we managed to get the last one on, but then it tore.  We were both starting to get really frustrated.

“Listen,” Lynda said, “I hope you don’t think this is gross or anything, but you wouldn’t have to wear one if you put your dick in my ass.  Technically, I’m still a virgin at that, but I’ve wanted to try it for a long time now.”

She dug a bottle of lube out of that bedside table of hers and tossed it my way.  Then she lay down flat on her stomach with a couple pillows under her hips and her butt presented to me like a gorgeous soft ripe peach.

I poured nearly half the bottle of lube all over my cock and down Lynda’s butt crack.  She shivered and whispered encouragement, spreading her cheeks wide apart and revealing her tiny pink little crinkled butt hole.  I loved the shape of her ass; I loved the crease where her thighs met her butt cheeks, I loved the spiraling patterns of downy black hair on the small of her back, I loved the dimple just below the base of her spine.  I rubbed my cock between those delicious cheeks.  It was slippery and hot there.  Lynda grunted and raised her hips up to meet me.

“I don’t think it’s going to fit.” I said.  It just didn’t seem possible that I could cram myself into such a small opening and not injure her.

“Try me,” she said, wiggling her ass invitingly, “Go on!”

I positioned the tip of my dick at her tiny little anus and pressed gently forward.  Amazingly, she opened right up for me, swallowing my cock whole.

Lynda blew a long breath out through her teeth.  “Oh yeah… that feels amazing.”

It did feel amazing.  Her ass was so tight it was almost painful.  Her body was clinging to my dick, milking me and she was incredibly hot inside.

I began fucking her, slowly and very gently.  She humped right back against me and slowly, very slowly, the whole length of my cock disappeared up her ass.

“Oh shit yeah, that feels fucking amazing!  It’s so good!  You’re totally filling me up!  Oh shit this is wild!  Christ you feel huge…”

I could feel myself swelling inside her, and I knew I couldn’t last much longer.

“Lynda,” I yelped, “I’m going to come!  I’m going to come inside you!”

“Oh shit yeah…” Lynda was playing her clit like a banjo and grinding her rump against me.  Her glasses had fallen off and were lying on the bed sheets.  “Oh shit yeah, do it, come in my ass!”

I howled and let go, humping her so hard I nearly shoved her off the side of the bed.  My balls contracted and I pumped what felt like gallons and gallons of semen into Lynda’s butt.

With a satisfied sigh, I collapsed on top of her sweaty, gasping, petite body.

“Wow,” she said, “That was amazing.  I think that was the most intense orgasm I ever had… you can pull out now, but just be gentle, ok?”

“I can’t.” I said.  It was true.  Before I come, the end of my dick swells up like a body builder who starts taking steroids.  The more excited I am, the bigger it gets.  It takes forever for it to shrink down to normal size too.  At the moment, the head of my dick was the size of a small watermelon.

“Are you serious?  Ooh, freaky… In that case I’m going to go for an instant replay… roll over!”

I rolled over onto my back and Lynda sat astride me, my cock lodged firmly up her butt.  She leaned back and started circling her clit.

“Put a finger up inside me” she commanded, and I happily complied.  She was really hot inside and amazingly wet and slippery and I could feel my own swollen dick through her pussy walls.

I grabbed her breast with my free hand and started kissing her fiercely as I finger-fucked her cunt.  She was rubbing herself furiously, and it didn’t take long for her to bring herself to another beautiful, bone-rattling, full-body orgasm.

We lay there panting for a few minutes, joined tightly together.  Her thighs and my balls were coated in pinkish come and fresh red blood.  I thought it looked really sexy.

“We made a pretty big mess,” I told her.  It was true.  There were dark splotches on the sheets where we’d been frolicking, and we were both smeared all over with blood and come.

“Don’t worry,” she said lazily, “It’ll all wash out.”

We ended up waddling to the bathroom together and clambering into a freezing cold shower to detach me from her freshly fucked ass, an operation that Lynda found absolutely hilarious.

After we had finally extracted my reduced cock from her tender asshole, we toweled off and went naked downstairs to the kitchen. Lynda poured us each a tall cool orange juice and added a splash of vodka to each glass.  Neither one of us could help the big fat goofy grins splashed across our faces.

A little while later, I found myself sitting on one of the kitchen stools with Lynda between my legs, kneeling on the linoleum.  My erection was back with a vengeance and Lynda was very lightly stroking it with her thumb and forefinger. She stroked me so lightly that it was almost as if she wasn’t quite touching me at all.  Every now and then, she flicked out her tongue and playfully licked my balls or the engorged head of my penis.

“I love how your cock does that.” The head of my dick was once again swollen like an over-filled water balloon, trembling on the edge of bursting.  Lynda stroked my tail with her free hand.  Normally I don’t like people touching my tail, but this time I didn’t mind.  “I think it’s really sexy,” she went on, “I wonder how big you’d get if you had a butt plug in.  You’d like that, I bet.”

Her hand left my tail and found its way between my ass cheeks.  The tip of one finger grazed my anus and I jumped a little, my dick bobbing and waving.

“If I was on the pill, you could fuck me anytime and we wouldn’t have to use condoms, as long as we weren’t fooling around with other people.  How does that sound?”

It sounded pretty great to me.  Her fingers lightly traced their way up and down the length of my dick, tickling my asshole, driving me insane, tormenting me and keeping me balanced on the razor’s edge of a massive explosion.

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” she continued, looking up at me from between my hairy thighs, “It just wouldn’t work.  I’m too prickly and you’re kind of a dork.  But we could be just friends.  Friends who fool around…”

Up, down, up, down; she never stopped travelling the length of my quivering erection, her fingertips just barely grazing the soft skin of my penis.

“Gawd,” Lynda said, “Once a month I get absolutely insatiable!”

She suddenly plunged her finger into my ass and squeezed my cock tight in her fist and I came, squirting come all over myself. I had big white puddles of it all over my tummy and chest, some sticky droplets making it up to my neck and onto my chin.

Lynda proceeded to lick her way up my body, devouring my come like a kitting licking up spilt milk.  She lapped it all up.  Every single drop.


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