Catalog 4

After my birthday things seemed to go back to normal and after about ten days I was wondering if it had just been a bit of a show. We’d had normal sex a few times (though not in the past four days) and everything had been going just fine. True, she had made me lick her pussy clean every time like she said she would, but I was beginning to wonder whether or not I should ask her what the score really was, after all I wasn’t giving up wanking for no reason!
A couple of times I went to ask her and then chickened out, unsure whether it would be a good idea or not - after all, if she was ‘in charge’ so to speak, then hassling her wasn’t going to score me any brownie points and if she had been just stringing me along then there was always the possibility that it might lead to a bit of an argument, which was the last thing I wanted. Besides, if she was just messing about why would she have spent all that money on all those sex toys and stuff?
I was sitting at work, pondering what I should do when I got an email:
“Slave. I will be home late tonight, I am going running with Gillian. Will probably be home at 6:30. When you get home you will have a shave and a shower. Afterwards, I want you to bind your cock and balls so that your nuts are separated and very tightly bound. Then I want you to put your wrist and ankle cuffs on and secure your ankles to the bed. I want you to blindfold yourself and you must also have your butt plug in place. I think you should also just about be able to secure one of your wrists to the bed posts…I will do the other one when I get home. Oh and every time you go to the toilet today you must make yourself hard and wank almost to the point of cumming, while thinking about my gorgeous asshole.
See you later, Mistress R”
As I read the email my cock swelled painfully in my trousers and I looked at the clock, it was just after nine. Great, so now I had to wait seven and half hours to go home and in the meantime I had to try and concentrate on my work!
Predictably, the day dragged like a bastard. But I was a good slave and every time I went to the toilet I did as I was told, in fact one time I nearly overdid it and I had to have a panic shutdown because it really was touch and go!
Thankfully 4:30 eventually arrived and I shot out of the building, practically running to my car. Once I got home I threw my work bag into the spare room where my clothes live and jumped in the shower. Having showered and shaved I then set about stripping the bed and fitting the black PVC sheet before inserting the butt plug. That took about ten minutes and then I started trying to bind my cock and balls. I soon discovered that wasn’t as easy as I thought and it took me quite a while to make a good job of it, but when I was finished I was more than pleased with the result and confident that next time I would be much quicker. Bound, my cock was rock hard and my balls were wrapped so tightly that they looked perfectly smooth. I looked at the clock, just 20 mins to spare. I slid the cuffs around my ankles and wrists and then tied the securing laces to the bedposts. Jumping on the bed I secured my ankles first, put the blindfold on and then hotched up the bed and managed to secure my left wrist. Then I lay back down on the bed and waited.
After a few minutes I heard my wife’s key in the door and then I heard her walk up the stairs and into her dressing room. I heard her bags hit the floor and her trainers come off but then nothing more until the bedroom door eased open. She walked around the bed and grabbed my wrist, pulling it straight so that she could secure it to the bedpost. Then she climbed on the bed and stood over me.
“Well done Slave, you seem to have followed my instructions properly.”
“Thank you Mistress.” I said , my voice shaking slightly.
“Your balls look very tight, I like to see them like that.”
She bent forward, reached back between her legs and rubbed her fingertips over my stretched scrotal skin, before laughing softly as she dragged a nail across my right ball. My mouth screwed up around the edges and her fingers trailed lightly up my throbbing shaft, pausing at the top to enclose my purple head.
“Mmmm, you are so hard. How many times did you wank yourself today slave?”
“Five Mistress.”
“Five - that’s a lot of trips to the loo isn’t it?…I hope you weren’t going extra times just so you could feel your cock getting hard in your hand!”
“No Mistress.” It was a lie, and she knew it, but she let it go.
“Hmm. Well as long as you didn’t come I guess it doesn’t really matter. You didn’t accidentally cum did you slave?”
“No Mistress.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Mistress, I nearly came once but I just managed to stop it.”
“Excellent slave, that’s exactly the way it should be - you will be rewarded for your enthusiasm.”
“Thank you Mistress!”
“But for now, I think….”
She trailed off and I felt her moving on the bed. She turned around and placed her heels close to my armpits before lowering herself onto my face. To my surprise Mistress was not naked and her warm, damp knickers covered my nose and mouth, filling them with the scent of sweat and her delicious pussy.
“Can you smell my juices slave?”
“Yes, thank you Mistress.” I mumbled, enjoying breathing in deeply.
“It made me so wet thinking of you here, preparing yourself while I was out running…just laying here waiting for me to come home and sit on your face and let you smell my hot, sweaty cunt.”
Mistress groaned as she rubbed her pussy against my face for a while before pulling herself up to her feet again.
“Do you want more slave?”
“If it pleases you Mistress.”
“Very good answer slave.”
I felt her lower herself again.
“Stick your tongue out as far as it will go slave.”
I immediately pushed my tongue out as far as I could physically stretch it and held it there, unmoving.
“Very good slave…..now you shall have a small reward, but this will have to keep you going for a while because I need a shower. So….keep your tongue out and make the most of it.”
Mistress pulled her sodden knickers to the side before lowering her pussy onto my face and my tongue literally ploughed between her lips. But she didn’t stop there and I felt her move down and down until she was literally sitting on my face. My cock felt like it was about to explode as my tongue moved deep into her hole, searching out that beautiful strong taste that you only seem to get when you go really deep.
Then, after just a few seconds of heaven she was lifting herself up again and moving off the bed. I consoled myself by running my tongue around my open mouth, scavenging every available drop of her delicious juices. Then I heard her opening the drawer in the bedside cabinet and turning the lid off a plastic pot.
“This should stop you getting bored while I’m gone.” She said and I felt the heat-cream smeared over my tightly bound balls..
“None for your cock today, I want you to concentrate on your balls….especially seeing as they are so nicely bound.”
“Thank you Mistress.” I gasped. The cream was already starting to take effect and stinging my nuts more than usual, whether that was because my balls were so tight I didn’t know, but soon I was alone and writhing on the bed as the stinging continued for a good 15 minutes.
As the stinging sensation began to abate, I heard the shower turn off and wondered how much longer I would have to wait for my Mistress to come back. The room was very warm, she had turned the heater on when she had left me and I felt myself becoming a little dozy. With my eyes closed behind my blindfold I feared I might fall asleep but just a few seconds later I felt a waft of cool air as the bedroom door opened again. I heard it close and then Mistress was back on the bed, still dripping wet from the shower.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it slave?”
“No Mistress.” I lied.
“Really….well that’s odd, I could have sworn I put a load more Deep Heat into that jar last night, maybe I will have to put even more in next time.”
“As you wish Mistress.” I groaned.
“The funny thing is slave, before I got in the shower I peeked in the door and you looked like you were pretty uncomfortable….you were writhing about and hissing to yourself, it kind of looked to me like your poor little nuts were on fire….”
“Yes Mistress.” I conceded, hoping that it would dissuade her from increasing the Deep Heat level in the mixture again.
“So are you saying you lied to me when you said it wasn’t that bad then slave?”
“No Mistress, I just didn’t want you to think that I was making a fuss.”
“Really….well, don’t you worry….because I’m going to cool your poor balls down for you.”
“Thank you Mistress.”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to thank me slave…..you see, I told Gillian about how I hurt my ankle before and how swollen it was….and she told me that I should have put spray-freeze on it…..and that gave me an idea….”
I winced at the thought of having freezing cold sports spray applied to my still heated balls.
“….unfortunately, she didn’t have any spare, so this time….we will just have to make do with some ice!”
I heard the clink as her fingers plucked the half melted cube from the glass and then felt it pressed against my left ball. I couldn’t help but jerk away, but that only gave Mistress an excuse to slap my balls and then encircle them from behind with her thumb and forefinger, holding me still while she melted all the ice in her glass against my ball sack one cube at a time.
“You don’t flinch away when your Mistress is touching you slave, do you understand?”
“Yes Mistress.” I apologised between breaths.
“Remember, these are my balls slave and I say what happens to them.”
“Yes Mistress.”
“So if I want to heat them up, freeze them, tie them up, whip them, clip pegs all over them, squash them underfoot or rub them with nettles what are you going to say?”
“Thank you Mistress.”
“That’s right slave, ‘Thank you Mistress’…..and that way you might be spared the worst of it.”
Right now I was shitting myself (or at least I would have been if my arse hadn’t been full of butt plug!), what the hell had I unleashed here? Before all this my wife was happy just to tie me up a bit and play and now she was threatening my balls with stinging nettles! What the hell was she going to come up with next?
Satisfied my balls were finally nice and cool and with the melted water dripping between my thighs and pooling on the black PVC sheet beneath me, Mistress leaned over and put the glass on the bedside table before straddling my chest and peeling the blindfold from around my head.
I had been in darkness for so long that I could hardly open my eyes at first, but gradually they began to get used to the light and I looked up to see my Mistress sitting over me naked with her hands on her hips.
“Well slave, what do you say?”
“Thank you Mistress.”
“Don’t make me prompt you every time slave, or you’ll be sorry.”
“Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress.”
“Anyway, that’s not what I meant slave….what do you have to say about me?”
“You look beautiful Mistress….” after a few seconds I sensed she was expecting more than that.
“Your breasts look so gorgeous Mistress, especially when your nipples are so hard, I love looking up at you like this so much….”
Mistress smiled and leaned forward to offer her right nipple to my mouth.
“Suck it slave…and don’t stop until I tell you.”
I greedily sucked on Mistress’ nipple, savouring the feel of the soft flesh and the hard bud on my tongue, but as I relaxed and began to enjoy myself Mistress ever so slowly straightened up and I had to crane my neck forward to keep my mouth in contact. Further and further she pulled away until I was really struggling, shaking almost with the effort.
“Stop…. well done slave.” Mistress said pushing me back down onto the bed so that I could get my breathe back. “I like a slave who makes an effort.”
I lay there breathing heavily, staring up at those gorgeous tits and wondering what would happen next.
I didn’t have to wait long. Mistress got off the bed and rummaged around in the drawer again, before extracting the thing she had in mind.
“Ah, there it is.”
She turned to me and I saw that she had selected one of the many toys I had been bought for my birthday - a double sided dildo, the shorter half of which went in my mouth and then was strapped to my head, leaving a good six inches of plastic cock sticking out from my mouth. Mistress fitted the toy to my face, ordering me to raise my head up so that she could tie the straps on properly and then stood over me once more before lowering herself down onto the rigid false cock.
I watched closely as Mistress’ pussy opened and slid down the length of the dildo, her finger was already gently toying with her clit as she rode my face, moaning gently as the plastic stretched her pussy. Soon she was soaking wet and taking the full length of the dildo into herself on each stroke, her juices dripping down onto my face. Then she locked her knees holding herself still with just a couple of inches of the fake cock inside her.
“Fuck me!” She barked.
It was not at all easy, but I gave it my best shot, thrusting my face up to meet her dripping slit as she kept a steady rhythm on her clit with her outstretched finger. Eventually though the ache in my neck became too strong and my thrusts began to weaken.
“Keep going slave.” Mistress gasped. “I’m …nearly… there.”
I redoubled my efforts, desperate to please my Mistress and managed to keep going just long enough. Mistress bore down on the dildo as she came, pushing my head back into the bed. As the dildo was forced deep into her slippery hole floods of juice trickled from her pussy onto my face, coating my cheeks and the underside of my chin.
Mistress clutched the bedhead tightly as she pressed down harder still on my face, which in turn pressed my side of the double-dildo slightly further into my mouth. She moaned softly as she got the toy as deep as physically possible, triggering off little aftershocks of pleasure and then when she was finally spent she slowly lifted herself off, leaving her pussy lips looking stretched and a beautiful deep pink.
She stood up and turned round to look at my cock, which was rock hard once more, especially with all the binding that was still wrapped around it. What I hadn’t realised when I had bound my cock and balls was that every time my cock lost a little hardness the laces would slip a little and when I got hard again that seemed to pull them a little bit tighter.
“I love this colour.” Said Mistress, admiring my deep purple balls, maybe we should paint the bedroom like that? I could take a photo of your balls and we…..or rather you could go and get them to mix the paint up.”
I looked at her aghast, if my mouth hadn’t still been full I probably would have said something I would have regretted, but as it was she turned back and smiled, adding…
“Only joking.” Pausing a moment before adding… “I don’t really think it would go with the carpet….”
I closed my eyes for a second and almost imperceptibly shook my head, which was a mistake.
“Uh-oh, that’s not allowed slave….you know who’s in charge here don’t you?”
“Yegshhh Migstrress” I said. my voice garbled by the dildo strapped between my lips.
“And you don’t want to piss me off do you, not when your balls are so vulnerable?”
“Nho Migstrress, Ihm sgorry Migstrress” I begged, not sure if my balls could take much more punishment today.
“As long as we understand each other slave…..”
Mistress spat on her fingers and turned round, bending at the waist to reach down and rub them back and forth along my shaft, the skin fixed solid by my tight bonds. I gazed up at her gorgeous ass as I felt my cock get just a little bit harder still.
“Hmm.” She purred as she stroked my aching meat. “I know what you’re doing, you’re looking at my ass again aren’t you slave?”
“Yes Mistress” I said in my garbled speech.
Mistress reached behind herself and placed a hand on each buttock, slowly peeling them apart to reveal her tight pink hole.
“You fucking love my ass don’t you slave….and that’s good, because I love that you love it. I love that you love it because it means I can control you and I can control your cock. You’d do anything to lick my ass right now wouldn’t you slave, look at it, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”
I grunted my agreement as best I could and Mistress pulled her cheeks wider still, stretching her asshole so that it opened slightly. My cock bobbed slightly as I watched and Mistress let out a little laugh.
“Oh yes, you love my asshole alright.”
She let go of her cheeks and stood to one side of my body. Then she lifted her right leg, balancing as best she could on the uneven surface of the bed and placed it on top of my crimson, swollen cock. She rubbed her foot back and forth a few times and then pressed down as hard as she could. She tried a couple more times but realised that her actions were having little effect.
“I have a job for you slave. I’ve seen a clever little table in a picture on the internet, with a hole in it for your cock and balls. I wan’t you to make me one that’ll take my weight so I can stand on you properly….but in the meantime….”
Mistress took her foot away and moved around to stand between my stretched out legs. She didn’t kick me hard at all, but it was quite a shock to feel the top of her foot flick into my poor nuts. I let out a satisfying grunt (satisfying to her anyway) and she decided to move on.
Next she moved back up the bed and knelt over my chest again, before reaching around my head to undo the straps on the double dildo. I felt the intruder exit my mouth but I had barely time to draw a breath before she had flipped the dildo round and pushed the longer, pussy juice soaked side into my mouth and re-secured the straps. Now I really couldn’t talk and I had to breath through my nose.
“Taste’s good doesn’t it slave?”
I nodded, well that was about all I could do. She moved closer to me, her lovely tits rubbing against my chest, her mouth right near my ear.
“Can you guess what I’m going to do now slave?” She whispered. “I’ll give you a clue….you’d love to see it.”
Various images flashed through my mind, but I had no clue, and even if I could have guessed and been able to speak I don’t think I would have dared speak my mind.
“No idea slave….oh dear, that means you don’t get to watch.”
I sighed heavily, how the fuck did my wife get to be such a perfect bitch? Again she smiled and picked up the blindfold from where it had lay and wrapped it around my head.
“That’s a shame, you would have loved it. But don’t worry…I’ll talk you through it.”
I was getting nervous now, my body was shaking a little and I was struggling slightly with the length of the dildo in my mouth. But nothing could prepare me for what happened next.
I felt my wife move away and then heard her opening one of the drawers by the bed. Then I heard the lid coming off a pot. At first I thought she was going to put yet more heat gel on my poor nuts and tensed my legs in anticipation, but then I felt movement in my mouth as she applied something to the shorter, slightly narrower side of the dildo.
“Can you guess what I’m doing yet slave?” She smirked. “You are going to be so sorry you couldn’t see this.”
She must have literally plastered the dildo with vaseline, judging by the amount of time she spent on it and by the time she’d finished I was starting to believe that she was actually going to do what I hoped she was right from the start.
I tried hard to speak, but only gargles came out. I wanted to beg, to plead with her to remove the blindfold, but she ignored me, only speaking to me when she was ready. She bent close to my ear again and whispered….

The night of my nineteenth birthday is one I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anytime soon, the night Doc Scott played his set at the International Players Lounge nightclub. It was huge, half of Perth was there, I’m not so sure whether or not it was the good half but that was never really of any concern to me, my friends and I were just after a good time.
Five of us arrived at the front door of the club but only two of us managed to go any further, so into the mist we ventured. Huge bass lines pumped so loud they blurred my vision as I walked through the foyer and descended the stairs into another world. A world that welcomes those who approach with the caution and respect it commands, those who walk through the portal and take it for what it is, those who have been damaged but decide to return. A world that rejects those who just don’t know, the dabblers, the one timers, those who run- tail where tails go, those who fall- never again to see the light of day.
I approached with a well-practiced ease, sliding through the crowd without stepping on a single toe, unless of course the owner of any one particular toe gave me reason to. My people everywhere I turned, so I barely knew a single one of ‘em? It just never mattered down there. Speed rushing through my viens lightened my step and quickened my pulse to keep pace with the 120 bpm D&B that was blowing the roof off the place. Tight white pants clung to an arse that I couldn’t help but take particular interest in. Long brown hair half way down her back flowed as she moved with the drums, swung to the bass. She turned around with a smile - I know that face. “Ahhhh! Can’t believe that’s you girlie, with your arse looking so fine. You trying to tease me or something? That’s not fair you know? It’s working”. And that’s how it started, a familiar face looking at me like I’ve never seen before, an undeniable spark, something we both wanted, yet far more something we both needed. The attraction pulling us towards each other, we dared not resist.
It was almost daylight by the time we were ready to get out of there, a quick stop to grab a bit of a pick-me-up and then straight off to my house. We were getting on like magic, a connection we believed to be unique to the two of us, right then and there. There wasn’t anything sleazy about it; we were comfortable with each other, we could share things that we felt no one else could understand. She told me some of her deepest thoughts; she shared with me horrific ordeals that she knew would go no further.
We talked for hours, it was almost as if we were hypnotised by each other, drawn into a trance by our shared desire to believe we had found that one person, that one soul in the whole of the universe with whom we should be at that precise moment- it couldn’t have been more perfect. A longing was growing in me, a desire to touch, to be touched. A need to expierence the closeness that was really only a breath away, to touch the soft form sitting just inches from me. I just couldn’t figure out what was holding us back, the more I thought about it the more I needed to be with her.
Before long we found ourselves kissing. We were both off our faces, the amphetamine doing the job nicely as it always did. She was getting really excited but said we couldn’t go any further coz she was on the rag. After a while of keeping up with the holding and kissing- and the whispering of sweet nothings, she was really starting to get boiled up, you know- grabbing at me real hard and biting into my shoulder and all that. She took my hand and guided it into her knickers; the only piece of clothing she was wearing by now. I was all like “yeah, but what about…?” She just said:
“I know but just here is ok, I need you to.”
So there she had me rubbing her clit, being careful not to let my hand slip too low. While she lay down, her eyes closed, biting her lip and making these little noises like an anxious puppy dog. One hand under her head gripping the pillow tight, the other under the doona holding onto her ankle as she stretched and arched her back briefly before curling up again, pulling her knee up to the side of her body, almost to shoulder hight to open herself right up. A little bit too inviting given the time of the month. She suddenly sat halfway up with her mouth and eyes wide open and let out a gasp that made my hard-on grow that much stronger, taking several deep breaths while propped up on one elbow. She wasn’t going to be teased any more. Now this is where the story takes a turn for the worse.
She slid her knickers off and got up on her hands and knees, reached underneath between her legs and pulled the tampon out- chucking it in the bin beside my bed with a thwaap. Fuck it smelt bad- a musty kind of a stink that sat heavy in the air. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a rubber, which she quickly rolled down my cock. She got up atop of me and grabbed a hold so she could slide down directly- no fucking around. It went in easily despite the tightness of her pussy, clenched hard under the influence of the narcotic. There was enough juice down there to flood a small Southeast Asian village, you know that menstrual blood is some thick slippery shit.
We fucked for ages, I thought it was never going to end, it started to get uncomfortable. I was much happier just kissing and teasing, talking, laughing, and even holding her while she cried. Pure emotional exposure, a vulnerability that I’ve always found appealing. Embracing me with such desperation, she would cling for dear life to anyone kind enough to listen, anyone kind enough to care. That was sweet, that was beautiful. This was ugly. This was brutal and animalistic. The girl had been a friend of mine for some time now but it felt like I was sleeping with a stranger. The way her face screwed up, her brow furrowed in deep concentration as she ground herself down on me over and over again, it almost felt like I was being fucked by someone who had a deep hatred for me and was punishing me for atrocities that I would never know. Sure, drugs and sleep deprivation can fuck-up your perception, but I honestly felt despised.
After putting all my effort in I managed to blow my load in her…but something didn’t feel quite right…. a notion hit me that left me breathless. Was that the condom all wrapped around the base of my dick? I couldn’t be sure but my fears were soon confirmed when she pulled herself up and a thick, smelly mixture of semen and period blood spilled and dripped out of her all over my belly and down into my pubic hair. It cooled quickly and separated, the thinner liquid spidering off like droplets of rain down a windowpane over the side of my torso.
I went dead quiet, she was too much of a mess to notice how reserved I’d become but I was noticing all sorts of shit. The sweet girl in need of companionship and a decent fuck was gone… what was left was certainly not a pretty sight. What felt like a warm curvaceous body pushing up against me had been revealed in the mid morning light as an emaciated form, with ribs protruding through grey flesh that thinly veiled the diseased being within. Cold sores around her mouth, track marks all up both arms. A ruined human, dead on the inside. I could see the rotting tissue, I could smell it and I can still taste the rancid flavour of infection. She leant forward to kiss me once more and as I rolled away the whore picked herself up off the bed, staggered across the room, and wiped her cunt on the curtains.
What’s done is done, I’m now too frozen with fear and regret to even care about the mess she’s made, and I never bothered to tidy up after her. This is my mess now, and no amount of bleach is going to clean it up, no amount of scrubbing is going to get this dirt off. To this very day I take a shower every few hours, each one carrying on well after the hot water runs out. Now I am the diseased one, now I spread fear, now I carry the virus.
And I shall carry it to my death.

Mark Holloway groaned as he sat up in bed and reached behind him to touch Madison. It was six o’clock on Saturday morning in Birmingham, Alabama. His hand met only a cool pillow and undisturbed sheets. Then he recalled with an increase in his heartbeat that she was due to arrive at the Birmingham International Airport later in the afternoon. She could do wonders, but she had yet to master the art of being in two places at once.
Since he wanted to be there ahead of time, he forced himself to get out of bed. Better get under way, he muttered to himself, if I’m gonna have time to mow the back yard. She likes that.
He stood up and shambled to the full-length mirror before which he spent the next two minutes staring at himself. It wasn’t a prideful thing…he just did it periodically as much to be thankful for what he had as anything else.
There it, or he, was. Six feet and 178 pounds of a thirty-one year old man, attractively proportioned and well-muscled. Madison didn’t care for stubble and actually, neither did he. He just despised having to take the brief time to run his Norelco over his face and neck. But everything has a price, he told himself, so I’d better quit whining.
He pulled his wavy black hair over his right shoulder and began to brush it slowly. This was a sensual ceremony he reserved for Saturdays, Sundays and before making love. His mother, Juanita, had ceased cutting his locks at age ten; from that time on neither scissors nor razor touched the lovely mass of black hair that grew with unusual density from his hairline to the nape of his neck. Juanita had kept it shaped at the ends by cutting the mass straight across so that the growth from the front of his scalp was as long as that growing from the nape of his neck.
The effect was an incredibly lovely cape of waves and curls that completely concealed his back and shoulders when he left it unbound. Usually for work he tied it behind his head in a huge pony tail or pinned it in front of his ears with turquoise clips.
Wherever he went he was a magnet for attention, often from women who envied a growth of hair on a man that they could never match. His physician had told him that his hair was one-in-two- million, that very few men had a scalp and a physical system that would produce and support such a heavy and long growth. Touching and stroking his hair excited him sexually, and this morning was no exception.
Mark defoliated everything south of his navel: his cock and balls, his thighs, his tight butt and his anal cleft. The softness of his tanned flesh never ceased to arouse Madison. His cock always hardened when he stroked his velvety thighs.
He turned sideways to view himself, his blue eyes taking in the thick organ swelling to firmness from between his thighs. As he watched, his cock stiffened to a thick, straight rod eight inches in length, its sloping mantle stretched tight and shiny, its shaft encircled by bluish-green veins.
Rather than dress and eat, he shaved quickly, brewed coffee and took a steaming mug to the deck behind the house. He stood naked and aroused at the railing, gazing across three acres of Bermuda and other less familiar grasses, pine and scrub through which he and Madison often walked. Rachel Lattimore, his next door neighbor, would see him and that was all right. She was a lusty forty year-old mother of three and had a husband who worshipped her. When he wasn’t screwing her legs off, and that seemed to be most of the time.
Rachel’s pleasure was going topless around home in front of children, husband, guests, and in both front and back yards when at all possible. That she gardened and mowed both yards in shorts or denims, walking shoes and nothing else did little to dampen her reputation. It was well-known that during warm weather local teens would either park down the street from her house or find innumerable idiotic reasons to drive by in hopes of seeing her ample chest shake gloriously as if it were two mounds of honey-colored gelatin.
Mark chuckled as he thought of her. She had seen him nude frequently and always called him “my beautiful boy.”
He had that luxurious feeling born of warmth on one’s skin coupled with the erotic electricity of sexual awareness. His heavy, wavy mane was fluffed with body after his thirty-minute brushing and hung like a great dark cape that responded to errant breezes. Mark decided to linger outside and lowered himself to a nearby lounge.
With the quiet of his back yard and warmth of the early morning summer sun came a delicious drowsiness. He arranged his long hair, then lay back, closed his thighs after laying his now softening penis atop them, and began to recall the first time he and Madison had met two years ago.
- - - - - - - - -
Mark was exhausted after a long day trying to explain the varying strengths in reactive armor plate to a pair of managers from Washington. They were far more interested in playing golf than grasping the intricacies of additional armor plating on tanks and armored fighting vehicles. By early afternoon he would have preferred a cold barium enema to what he was doing. Nevertheless, by sheer force of will he consummated an arrangement of a $15 million contract and at the same time was on the verge of strangling the two agents from GenTex Industries. A migraine headache had set up shop inside his head and had begun ripping out parts of his brain.
Without even attempting to eat supper he went straight to his hotel room, collapsed on the bed in his clothes and fell asleep. A fumbling sound at his door woke him, and the red figures on his bedside clock unblinkingly informed him that it was 11:30. He heard someone attempting to turn the knob, so he moved groggily out of bed, swept aside the half of his hair that hung over his left shoulder, and wearily cracked the door to the hallway.
Mark’s voice stuck in his throat as he peered out at one of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. As he struggled toward full awareness he noted shoulder length blonde hair, a rounded face with grey-green eyes and an embarrassed smile, a charcoal colored blazer over an intriguingly short skirt, a white blouse that gave him a quick impression it was straining under pressure from beneath and the best pair of legs in his recent memory.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, obviously taken aback by the appearance of someone she’d never met.
“Umm…ah…,” he responded with obvious intelligence.
She glanced at the small white envelope that held her plastic key card, verified that her number matched that on his door, and said, “I’m sorry. They told me this was my room. The reservation was made for me over two weeks ago.”
Mark retrieved his manners and opened the door.
“I’m Mark Holloway,” he introduced himself as he widened the doorway and encouraged her to enter. I know this is rather odd, but it’s late, this place is packed, I’ve been in this mess before, and SO…if you’ll give me a few minutes to get dressed I’ll see if I can help you straighten out this problem.”
“No, thank you. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll just go on down to the desk; they’ll have another room.”
He was already on the phone. After several minutes of discussion he hung up.
“They’re not very helpful. There are no rooms available.”
Her tired face fell.
“May I suggest something?” Mark asked quietly, trying to mitigate her uneasiness and disappointment. “It’s late for getting a room that isn’t there, you have to be exhausted, and this suite has a second bedroom. Will you consider staying in there? There’s even a separate door to the hallway if you decide to leave. I’ll stay out of your way, and you’ll stand a lot better chance of getting real help in the morning.”
“Are you sure…?” she trailed off with an understandably suspicious note in her slightly husky and obviously southern-accented voice. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d said, “Thanks, but no thanks,” and walked off.
“I’m Madison Parker,” she followed on, “and I am truly sorry to impose on you this way.”
She entered with her medium sized wheeled case in tow.
Mark showed her to the adjoining bedroom, gathering a terrycloth robe as they passed the bathroom, and laid it on the bed for her. He noted her staring at his long hair but said nothing. Neither did she.
“I hate to be abrupt, but I’m done in. I’m going back to bed. One last thing…will you please join me for breakfast at, oh…say eight o’clock? I know the manager downstairs, he saves a table for me, and I’m completely unattached. Honest. Then you can be on your way.”
She thought about his invitation for a moment, then agreed. He turned quickly and walked away.
- - - - - - - - -
The morning sun warmed his naked body and Mark sat up to apply sunscreen to his skin that showed tiny droplets of perspiration. He smiled as he stroked his penis, now firm and shiny. He pulled his mass of long hair to one side of the lounge, letting it fall onto the wooden deck. He raised the back of the lounge to a more comfortable position, then viewed his body. He slid his hands down his thighs, relishing their velvety feel, then he gently lifted his cock. A small drop of dew rested in its mouth and the tender mantle had become enlarged. If he touched himself he knew that an orgasm was almost certain. He laid it against his left thigh and raised his ball sac. He enjoyed his smoothness although grooming himself was a task that required time.
Mark touched his left nipple because it was so extremely sensitive; he felt a little zing of sexual electricity rush through his body. He glanced at his navel pendant, three strands of pearls suspended from a ring. It was unusual for a man to have such a decoration, but again, it aroused him extremely and his girl friends had always approved.
He wanted his Madison to return quickly and he planned for only a few moments of time between their arrival back at home and hauling her off to bed for the rest of the day. He was now aroused, yet he did not want to masturbate yet. In his rich bank of memories about her there was greater excitement in store. He returned to his reverie.
- - - - - - - - -
His guest made no sound that he could detect and he was not altogether certain that she had not quietly exited through the other door and disappeared. When he arose he knocked on the door and received no reply. He entered and found that the shower had been used but was dry; a faint scent of jasmine cologne and a damp, neatly hung towel and cloth verified that someone else had been there.
At eight o’clock she rapped lightly on his door and entered at his invitation. Again Mark’s breath caught in his chest as she walked into the room. Her blonde hair was woven into a French braid. She wore little makeup that he could discern, but her red lipstick contrasted perfectly with her charcoal jacket and matching slacks. She wore a light, clingy and soft cranberry top with a neckline sufficiently wide and low to reveal delicious cleavage. Open-toe leather heels with thin straps completed her outfit.
In his golf shirt, faded denims and well-used Tony Lama high-heel boots he felt out of place and somewhat dusty. He looked down at his jeans and boots, feeling self-conscious, then realized that he could have dressed differently. The clothes were in the closet. He felt odd because of the beauty now standing before him. And try as he might, he could not drag his eyes away from her luscious breasts that trembled as she had walked toward him.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” he said to her, “you are so lovely.” He grinned somewhat sheepishly, and she felt an endearing tug at her heart that she unsuccessfully fought.
“And if you don’t object, Mr. Holloway, I can say the same for you. I think your hair is beautiful. I have never seen so much lovely hair on a man.”
“Chalk it up to my mother, Juanita. She quit cutting it when I was ten. Now I’ve gotten used to it and I like the way it feels. And thank you, Madison. You can, of course, call me Mark and I will be much happier. When you say Mr. Holloway I have an identity crisis.”
They walked into the hallway and he closed the door behind them. They took the elevator to the first floor and Leister’s Sidewalk Café which he knew to be misnamed in several respects. It was nowhere near a sidewalk, no one named Leister had ever owned or managed it, and strictly
speaking it was a buffet and restaurant, not a café. But it did offer a variety of the best breakfasts available in Atlanta and its clientele came from several miles around.
Mark recommended a few items for her; once their breakfasts arrived they devoured them with relish. He mentioned that his home was in Birmingham and described his work in general terms. Then he made a well-mannered effort to get Madison to speak of herself. After her initial reluctance that was born more of lingering embarrassment about the night before than a determination to not talk, she explained details of her trip and remarked that she was from Atlanta, Georgia.
Madison proved to be a truly enjoyable guest and before long they were laughing at shared mishaps in recent months in their respective offices. Time fled until Mark noticed that it was almost ten-thirty.
“I am so sorry!” he exclaimed. “I’ve kept you too long.”
“No, Mark, you haven’t. This has been the most enjoyable time I’ve had in several years.”
“But you’ve got a plane to catch, haven’t you?”
She looked down with embarrassment, then spoke quietly.
“Mark, I was stood up. I was supposed to meet someone here, a person who was to have made reservations for us. No one did. When I called him back a message said that the number had been disconnected. I’m not really certain what to do right now except just fly back home.”
Her grey-green eyes were moist. And for the first time Mark noticed the length of her dark lashes. She wore no mascara or liner. Most women, he thought, would kill for lashes such as these.
“Madison, please don’t think I’m pushy. My work here is finished. Would you consider taking the day off with me and just doing a little of the tourist-thing? No obligation at all. And I promise to be a good host.”
Seconds passed as she stared at him, evaluating him.
“Mark, you’re gracious to me. And you’ve been the perfect host. I think I would like to join you for the day…but only if you’ll let me take us to dinner when we return tonight.”
“Done!” he exclaimed with a happiness that surprised him.
That interchange prefaced the most enjoyable day Mark could recall in recent memory. He had dated often, shared memorable days and nights with several remarkable women, but this was somehow different. Madison Parker was, to put it simply, fun, bright, filled with laughter and ideas. By the time they returned to their hotel both were tired in that enjoyable way characterized by a simultaneous determination to continue if at all possible.
They had an early dinner, then went up to their room. Mark let Madison enter first, then he turned to close the door. When he faced about she was so close that he almost stumbled into her.
She had dropped her coat on a nearby chair. In addition to her lovely cleavage, he saw her slender bare arms and the shape of her large breasts beneath the soft fabric of her top. Obviously, she wore no brassiere. Before he could speak Madison reached for his face and kissed him tenderly.
“Thank you for today. This is to express what I cannot put into words.”
- - - - - - - - - -
On the lounge Mark was bathed in a sensuous warmth and his body shone with perspiration combined with the sunscreen he had applied earlier. Now with his delicious memory of their first meeting his nipples hardened to points and his cock was firm enough to move when he contracted its muscle. He stared at his beauty, relishing the sensuous feeling of sexual fullness, a sort of headiness at the fact that he possessed such a gorgeous cock, and recalling the thrill he had experienced when he’d enjoyed several nude beaches.
Thick, long, its skin stretched tight and shiny, it stuck up as if it were a haughty sentinel. His balls were sensitive in his loose sac between his thighs and he longed to touch himself. He knew that if he gave in to his urge he would lose himself…this was such an exotic sensation, this hosting her in his memory as he awaited her actual presence, being naked and aroused, and recalling what else happened that had changed their lives.
- - - - - - - - - -
He responded hesitantly. Her mouth was warm, her moist tongue darted between his lips like a tiny wet serpent, and she smelled faintly of jasmine. She was soft and sweet and, in an intriguing way, delicate without being fragile. As he embraced her he felt her breasts cushioned his chest, bulging up from her soft top.
Mark glanced down and saw part of her left nipple emerge from her sweater. He touched her there and she gasped softly, placing her hand atop his own to secure it in place. Though she was slender her breasts were large for her size, nestling beside each other, her nipples pointed and the left one now bare and hardening beneath his manipulating thumb and forefinger.
“Madison, I’ll stop if you wish. I’ve presumed too much after a wonderful day with you…,” and he trailed off to silence as the lovely creature before him placed her forefinger upon his lips.
“Ah…Mark, if you only knew how sweet that is and how I’ve wanted you to do it.”
Suddenly her grey-green eyes widened, then brimmed with tears.
“Madison, what’s wrong? Did I…?”
“No, no! All you’ve done is give me a perfect day, take care of me, and make love to my breast. You are wonderful.”
“Then what is it? Why are you crying?”
“Because you may very well want nothing more to do with me. There is something you need to know, Mark.”
With that she pulled gently out of his embrace, turned away from him and began to remove her clothing.
Now he was stumped. “Madison, if you are under the terribly mistaken impression that you’ll drive me away by undressing completely, let me relieve you. You are welding me to the floor of this room!”
She said nothing and continued to undress. He stared at her smooth, muscled back that tapered to a tiny waist and widened to rounded hips. Her ass was firm and tanned even in her anal cleft, her legs were things of beauty as she stood in her high heels. Finally, she turned to face him.
Heavy breasts trembled as if they were honey-colored orbs of gelatin tipped by swollen, dark brown nipples. A round emerald swung from a gold chain in her pierced navel. She had manicured her pubic bush by shaving everything completely smooth save for a blonde corona that encircled her fat penis and long fur completely concealing her ball sac.
Madison Parker was a shemale.
She awaited his reaction, fearful of rejection, daring to hope, aroused yet trembling with apprehension. His response was immediate.
“Madison, aside from the fact that you are the most beautiful creature I’ve seen in years standing naked before me…what’s the problem?”
She could hardly believe what she had heard.
“But…,” she began.
“No.”
“No, what?” she responded with obvious puzzlement.
“No, it doesn’t matter to me,” he chuckled, enjoying the moment.
“It doesn’t?” she said with astonishment.
“Nope.”
“Maybe I’m confused,” she began once more. “You mean that what I am doesn’t turn you away?”
“Of course not!” he laughed. “You are exciting, obviously deep, stunningly gorgeous—you stopped traffic out there today—you are loving and filled with surprises. During this entire day you have intrigued me, made me think and brought me laughter. What about all of that should turn me off or offend me?”
Rather than drag it out any longer, Mark held out his hand and said softly, “Come here, Madison. Please. I want you.”
The lady before him rushed into his arms and buried her face in the angle of his neck and left shoulder. Gradually her trembling ceased. He ran his hands over her back, then gently clasped a smooth cheek of her ass in each hand and squeezed. Finally, he ran his right middle finger through her anal cleft. Her breathing was becoming irregular with excitement. He thrilled at the thought of her fat cock swinging against his own and the mental imagery roaring through his brain like a firestorm.

I first met Mohammad when I was a girl. He was 15 years older than me. I was 16 and he was the senior mechanic in my Dad’s garage in Tel Aviv.
I remember watching his body, as he would sweat under the boiling Middle Eastern sun. He would put down his wrench, peel off his shirt, and then grab a Cola, which he would drink in the yard. I would finger myself and cum all over my pants at the site of Mohammad pressing the cold, chilled bottle again his chest, forehead and lips. God, he was beautiful and even then I knew I wanted him, and would have him one day.
It was a particularly dreary day a few years later, in downtown Tel Aviv and very, very quiet. The mood was somber because of all the fighting and nobody really wanted to party while so many young people were being killed. But cars still broke down and Dad’s garage was as busy as could be.
Mohammad was the senior mechanic and had never taken a course on how fix anything in h is entire life. “He was a natural,” Dad would say, about Mohammad’s skill in the garage.
I would watch this 6-foot Adonis at work and understood what Dad had meant. Every car was different to Mohammad, “like a women,” he would say. “Every breast feels different and every pussy tastes different. In a car, the prrh of the engine is never the same, and the drive is always individual.”
When Mohammad would start working on the Saabs, he would dance with delight at their complexity and the engineers who had obviously attempted to stump the mechanic with its problems. Man, when he was fixing a Mercedes limo (of which Israel has many), he would yell in Arabic, “I love this woman!” Everyone would watch Mohammad conduct his repairs to the gearbox like he was leading a symphony. He was Zubin Mehta and the Israeli Philharmonic, and his wand was a flathead screwdriver.
I swear when he worked on the American cars he would cum. I saw Mohammad as he would adjust a belt on a 69′ Ford Mustang. His hips would sway like Elvis. Every now and then he would reach down between his legs, with the flat side of a hammer and masturbate himself. His cock must have been 10 inches because that mechanic’s uniform shot forward like an F-16 Eagle doing its vertical takeoff.
I was sitting behind Dad’s desk and peering through the one way mirror (ya, he was worried about his employees. War sucks). I wanted Mohammad to entertain me and he must have known I was there, because he complied.
Slowly he pulled off the upper part of the uniform and his chest, arms and stomach rippled like the egg bread on Shabbat. Man, Mohammad exuded an inspiring physical character unlike I had ever encountered. Man, Woman, Arab, Jew, American, Swedish. I have been with all of them in the army but never met anyone like this man.
(I remember laughing when I had seen the advertisement for the underwear man in the United States. They found this boy, who was cocky and had bad muscle development. I laughed because my Mohammad would put that little wiener to shame).
My Arab Sheikh kept on dancing to the hmmm of the engine. He lowered his pant to the level of his cock and then teasingly, pulled them up again. I was dying. My pussy was so wet and I started fingering myself. Somehow I locked the door to Daddy’s office and didn’t answer when a couple of the other junior mechanics tried to get in for something.
Mohammad finally lowered the khakis and revealed that tool I had been waiting to see for a long time now. He was wearing funky boxer shorts, and his cock was pushing against the material like it was an escapee from a refugee camp. It was huge and I wondered how he didn’t fall into unconsciousness when he got an erection. God gave the giraffes protection in their neck, so they wouldn’t get fatal blood flow upon lowering their necks; what had he done for Mohammad.
His pants came off and the other mechanics – Jews, Muslims and Christians – were cheering the senior guy on. His legs were the kind you see in magazines. They were long, muscular and very hairy. So masculine. I felt on the verge of coming. Even his feet were magnificent, as they danced around the floor protected by the standard Israeli sandal. I wanted to get down on the oil greasy floor and suck the hell out of those toes.
He was making me hotter than ever and I just loved to watch him. One of the mechanics turned up the song on the radio and it was Stevy Ray Vaughn playing a guitar lick that mimicked an orgasm.
The music was blaring, the mechanics are yelling and dancing and the Mercedes Engine hummed along in its proper German way. As I was about to explode all over my hand and Daddy’s desk, Mohammad yanked out his big Arab pipe and set about stroking it to the rhythm of all the noise. And the music played on, and Mohammad’s cock was as big as camel’s cock – dessert huge! (Deutoronomy)
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was surreal and a really good time. I couldn’t help thinking through all the craziness – why couldn’t we all get along like this. A good Israeli-Arab orgy just might clean things up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What a waste.
Suddenly he stopped, as did the mechanics and the music. The Mercedes played on.
Everyone turned to the one-way mirror and slowly, but most deliberately began to move toward it. I shuttered, and felt my cunt swell up as I fingered myself with four of my digits. They closer they came toward me, the more my muscles contracted. My pussy dripped my juices all over the office. I was soaked.
I could hear them playing with the lock and I reached around and stuck a finger up my derriere…. then two, then three and four. The door was locked but it was jiggling The gate hinges had become dislodged and I watched as this old wooden gate fell away as it should have years ago.
In walked the pack, lead by Mohammad – the virile soldier. He smiled at me a full set off teeth and licked his lips. His eyes were sparkling.
The team picked me up and carried me over their heads toward the Mercedes. I was an empress being carried to my virgin night with my Emperor. They lowered me onto the back seat of this exquisite car and one by one, removed a piece of clothing from my acutely horny body.
My eyes were closed; I was crying from joy. I felt body ease its way up on mine. The smell of his sex was overwhelming and it reached down to my cunt. I was fucking his pheromones; every whiff made me twitch. I felt the hair on his legs and the warmth of his skin and reached up to squeeze his Arm (especially his biceps, which were so incredibly sexy. I remember thinking I want to masturbate on them one day).
His cock touched my clit and the others had to hold me down so that I didn’t rock this man off me and destroy this moment of peace. Mohammad was singing in my ear, an Arab wedding night song. It was so cool, I wondered why we didn’t have Hebrew songs to serenade our lovers with – I don’t mean the new stuff - but old traditional woman-to-woman stuff. I loved their poetry and its funky metaphors about love and the dessert, and breasts and the pyramids.
He was putting his huge cock inside of me and I arched my back to meet it; 2 inches, 3 inches, 4 inches, five inches. “Oh yes, my darling,” I can taste you inside of me”, Mohammad said.
His sweat was mixing with mine and the music started to blare again. It was a mixture of acid, rock and roll and head music. The world was spinning as I felt his eighth inch touch my womb. He pushed more and I was a woman with nine inches of Arab cock in my Jewish-Israeli cunt. I was in heaven and finally, with warning, the tenth inch of this god was all the way up inside of me. I was his and he was mine and the crowds were cheering.
“Fuck me, Mohammad, Fuck me. Oh, god fuck me. Yes, yes there yes yes shit ya…..mmmh, god I’m so wet. Fuck me. Make love to me…MMMMH. Ya, faster, ya, ya, mmh god I love you, fuck me,” I was yelling like a madwoman. Faster he went. Harder he pushed. Deeper into my cunt he went. Faster. Faster. Harder.
I could feel other hands on my boobs and tongues sucking my toes. I was engulfed in sex and my body had evolved into another entity. It’s every nerve ending was filled with the excitement of an impending orgasm.
I held Mohammad’s cantaloupe-like ass in my hands as he did pushups on me. Ever part of him was filling me up and I tried to kiss him. His beauty, inside and out, overwhelmed me and I trusted him with my very soul. His cheekbones were high. Where were his parent’s born? His nose was straight and proportioned exactly to his wet-green eyes. I loved his little ponytail. Ladies, come to Israel. This man was perfect!
I found his butt whole and stuck my finger inside of it. One. Two. Three. He was out of control and fucking me like a madman. His cock would push inside of me, and then exit, well almost and boom! One more time harder than the one before. He was terrorizing me. I couldn’t defend myself. I loved it.
I was on the verge of cumming and I was certain Mohammad was as well. “Fuck me,” I yelled. “Love me. I love you, ” He shouted back and began to let go. My hips were bucking pushing my pussy up against his cock, over and over. I was grinding this man, pushing my pubes against his. Feeling that sort of sexiness when my pubis bone touches his. My lips touch his scrotum. My clit strikes the base of his cock – home base. God, we’re in sync with each other’s movements. What a team. We were born for this very moment; it’s holiness, its love, and its intimacy. Abraham and Ishmael. Brothers. Lovers. Friends!
Spurts and spurts of cum were firing inside of me, hitting me on my inner walls, lips and tubes. Mohammad’s cum was boiling hot like the waters of the Negev. I began to cum again; my lips held him tightly like an ass would, and he continued to penetrate my cunt like a wild dog.
I was yelling at the top of my lungs as my orgasm built and built – as my entire groin sucked in this taste of joy, the perfection of an orgasm. I was full and cumming over and over. Mohammad was matching my every contracting, every push and pull.
He kept cumming and the crowds were cheering louder than ever. I could feel cum hitting my face from all sides, and landing on my legs and feet. I could feel tongues licking it off and the music kept blaring.
Oh god, I wondered if we would every stop. I had waited for this moment. And it was better than ever. Mohammad lay on top of me, wasted. I kissed him all over and told him I loved him. He kissed me back and held me in his big arms. He was the most exciting man I had ever met. Probably few in the world would ever equal his perfection. And he was a fucking mechanic. Isn’t that wild.
The crowds went back to their duties and the garage reopened for business. Mohammad stood up and listened to a radio report. They were closing the borders and he had to go. I started to cry. “When will I see you again, my love,” I asked.
“I will see you soon. Nothing will separate us. I love you and will never stop loving you,” Mohammad yelled back. And with that, he was gone.
I’ve heard different things. Some say he was a spy or a terrorist and was in jail. Others gossiped that Mohammad was a family and the closed borders were just an excuse to leave me. I don’t know what the truth is, but I do know one thing.
If I ever need a fantasy to get myself off with, all I do is go back to that day in the garage, and I cum quicker than a Rabbi says, “Please rise for the Torah reading.”
You know I believe we will one day meet again to share Turkish coffee and couscous. I know this to be true, because one day Israelis and Arabs will have to make love, hold an orgy, get all the shit out, because the other way is so damn sad.
I hope that’s the way we go…cause, Mohammad was so damn hot!!

for Jayde, my muse
(*note to reader: point of view makes all the difference in the telling of a tale; here one of my stories is retold from another point if view, a female POV this time)
I’d gone to the bar with my boyfriend, Doug, and his buddy, Bobby, who just moved back into town. Doug was really showing me off, this foxy nineteen year old country bitch from West Virginia who he met when he came to see my band play at a low down country bar. I was the lead singer who couldn’t sing for shit, but I had the looks which drew a bar crowd, young and sleek and skanky, cute face, spitfire moves. And so there I was, front and center, reeking of sex appeal. I knew it, and was fuckin’ proud of it. Doug figured me for a hick, which I sort of am, but when it came to sex Doug soon discovered I was as knowledgeable as a Vegas hooker and as horny as some cunt who’d just been let out of prison after ten years in solitary. I don’t know what Doug had told his buddy about me, but Bobby sure was checking me out. He had this hungry, wolfish look in his eyes, a look I like in a man. Plus he was one of the cutest, hottest looking guys I’d seen in a long time, definitely an improvement over most of Doug’s grizzly biker pals. We’d been putting away the beers and I’d just come back from the can after taking a much needed whiz.
“I need to take a whiz too,” Bobby said when I got back.
When he split I saw Doug had a big smile on his face.
“What’s with the shit-eating grin? I asked, “Were you two talking about me when I went off to take a piss.”
“Oh yeah, Tina, we were talking about you alright,” Doug said with a leer on his face as I slapped him playfully.
“C’mon,” I whined, “What the fuck were you sayin’ about me?
“Bobby was saying he’d just love to get a chance to fuck your young ass.”
“Just my ass?” I said, smiling now.
“No, not just your ass, baby. Your mouth, your cunt, and your ass. He sounded like he’d give anything to spend a whole day with his cock inside your foxy little body.”
Naturally, I took this as a compliment.
“So what’d you tell him?”
“I told him sometimes dreams come true.”
I laughed. See, me and Doug mix it up with other partners sometimes. We’ve hooked up with another guy, a chick, a couple. We love sex and we ain’t jealous. So we get off on threesomes and foursomes, on scenes.
“Your buddy’s really cute. I’d fuck him,” I told Doug as he laughed again, chugging his beer.
“I’m sure you would, babe, I’m sure you would.”
“So what’d you say? Did you tell him we swing, get it on with others?”
“Oh yeah, I told him all about that,” Doug said, “and it sure got him interested. I said it was cool with me if he fucked you as long as it was cool with you. But there had to be one condition, we had to make a deal. If he got to fuck you, then I’d have to get to fuck him. That was the deal.”
“Fuck!” I said, sort of shocked, but loving this. “What’d he say?”
One thing I loved about my boyfriend was that he was bi, just like me. We told each other right away and it turned me on. Let’s face it, guys love to hear that chicks they fuck make it with other chicks, and love to see them do it if they ever get the opportunity. Well I’m one of those chicks who really gets off on bi guys, guys who turn on to other guys as well as girls. When it comes to sex I know what I like. And I like just about all of it, girls with guys, girls with girls, guys with guys.
“You see, babe, a couple of years ago me and Bobby got it on. We got high and fooled around, sucking each other’s dicks and shit. But when I told him I wanted to fuck his ass, he begged off, saying he didn’t think he could take it.”
See, my boyfriend is hung like no other guy I’ve ever met. He carries a wrist-thick eleven inch hardon when he gets erect. And he get erect a whole lot, believe me! I mean, that dick of his is really something else, a big, beautiful freak of nature. And it don’t droop either, like a lot of guys who are super well-hung. No, his huge cock sticks up hard and thick and straight. It’s a fucking mind-blowing dick and I love to see the looks on the faces of studs and sluts we mix it up with when they lay eyes on it for the first time. They can’t stop looking at it, they love to lick and suck it, the chicks love feeling it stretch and fill their pussies. But not one of them, girl or guy, has had the guts to try taking Doug’s dick up the ass. Except for me, of course.
I love taking that dick of his up my ass. And I guess that’s one thing Doug really likes about me. I may be just nineteen years old, but I’ll take an eleven inch dick all the way up my ass and love taking it, every fuckin’ thick inch too. When we do scenes and other people watch me take Doug up the butt it freaks them out, they don’t know what to say. All they can do is watch, amazed at what they’re seeing.
“Yeah, I really wanted to fuck Bobby’s ass,” Doug continued, “and he’s got himself such a cute butt too, nice and tight and smooth.”
Bobby was definitely a looker, sleek and lanky and sexy. Very fuckable. So it didn’t surprise me that my boyfriend wanted to fuck his ass.
“So what’d he say about that ‘deal’ you mentioned?” I asked.
“He didn’t know what to say at first. But he sure looked interested. Then he said, okay. I guess when he heard that you took me up the ass, he figured if you could then he should to give it a go. You know, male pride. If a skinny 95 pound nineteen year old chick could take my dick up her ass, why not a cock loving stud who’s taken plenty of dicks.”
“Skinny?” I said, laughing it off. But I am very petite and slender, with this trim little ass. When people see Doug’s eleven-inch, beer can-thick dick parked between my cheeks, I know it’s an incredible sight for them.
“So you set it up?” I asked.
“Yeah, I told him to come by next weekend and we’d make it happen.”
“Cool!” I said, loving it. I’d really been wanting to see Doug fuck somebody up the ass besides me, and to see him fuck a super cute and sexy young stud would be about the hottest thing of all, even better than watching him slam his big tool up another chick’s asshole.
“Here he comes,” Doug said, noticing Bobby returning from the men’s room.
Bobby sat down and right away noticed the smile on my face.
“So, Bobby, Doug says you wanna fuck me,” I said bluntly.
“Uh—yeah— ” he stuttered, looking like he was ambushed.
“Sure, you’re hot, I’ll fuck you,” I said as Bobby just sat there, a little stunned and Doug grinned. He just loved the way I could be so blunt and nasty. “I’ll fuck you but, like Doug said, if you wanna fuck me, you gotta let my boyfriend fuck you.”
“Do you really take that huge of dick of his up your ass, Tina?” he said, wanting to hear it from me.
I smiled.
“Oh right, Doug told me you know all about his huge dick, Bobby. And to answer your question, yeah, I take it. I take it and I fuckin’ love it. And I wanna see you take it too. I wanna see you take every one of Doug’s thick eleven inches right up your sexy male ass. Are you game?”
“Shit, I guess I’m game. If I get to screw a hottie like you, Tina, then I’m definitely game.”
“Then we’re all gonna have ourselves a fuckin’ great time,” I said with a sexy leer, downing more cold beer.
Now Bobby was over at our place and we were guzzling down a bottle of cheap wine I bought. Doug complained but I told him what the fuck was I supposed to know about good wine, growing up in a little coal mining valley in West Virginia. My daddy made moonshine and I knew a cold beer from a warm one, but wine? Fuck it. Anyway, we were drinking it down, bad or good, and getting nice and warm and cozy and high.
Doug had told me how Bobby had mentioned I had such a hot looking ass – he eyeballed it when I sauntered over to the ladies room back at the bar. So I made sure to wear these tight, worn jeans which really showed off my bottom. I was walking around putting on music and pouring wine for the guys, always making sure Bobby had a good look at my rear end. And every time I looked back over my shoulder I saw his eyes were glued to my tight little booty.
“You like my butt, Bobby? I said, giving it a sexy wiggle and giving Bobby a sexy wink, “Well how about checking it out in the raw now?” So making a real show out of it, standing above Bobby, I slowly took off my jeans. I was wearing a peach colored pair of cotton bikini panties and now I turned so he could see my butt, the bottoms of my trim, firm cheeks nice and bare just under the panty line. Then, looking over my shoulder at Bobby, I very slowly pulled the panties down and bared my smooth, sexy ass. The crotch of Bobby’s jeans was bulging and he had his hand resting on his dick. That’s the effect I always seem to have on guys, I make them bulge down there.
“Here, Bobby, sniff ‘em,” I said, tossing him the panties which he pressed up to his face, taking a deep breath and smiling.
“Now check this out, check out this sweet spot,” I said, reaching back and spreading my cheeks wide open, showing off my asshole, the asshole Bobby knew opened up willingly for Doug’s huge dick. He stared straight ahead, looking right at it.
“Wanna fuck it, Bobby, wanna fuck my ass?” I asked him, “I just started my period, so maybe you oughta fuck my ass instead of my cunt.”
I’m not always regular and my period started early. But I figured that was a good excuse to make this scene all about ass-fucking. My ass gets fucked, then Bobby’s. I always get extra hot around the time of my period, rarin’ to go, and it’s always a good excuse for lots of ass fucking.
I kept holding my cheeks wide open, swaying my butt inches from Bobby’s face.
“Holy shit!” Bobby groaned, as Doug looked on with that wolfish shit-eating grin on his face, “I want to fuck it so fuckin’ bad!”
Who wouldn’t! I said, smiling to myself. I’m a young sexy fox. I got the hottest fuckin’ ass. The only dude who wouldn’t want to fuck my ass would have to be halfway to being a corpse. Or some uptight idiot who thinks ass fucking is unnatural or something
“Well, Bobby, if you wanna fuck this ass, first you gotta eat it out,” I said, pushing it even closer to his face. Doug chuckled; he knew what a freak I was for a wet tongue in my crack. Bobby didn’t waste a moment, taking hold of my cheeks with his big strong hands and spreading them wide, then pressing his face into my butt and his tongue into my hole.
“Oh yeah, do it, Bobby,” I hissed, “Doug told me how much you loved eating out his ass. I hope you like mine as much as you liked his.”
He grunted, the grunt muffled by his ass licking.
I looked over at Doug. He sure was enjoying the show and now had unzipped his jeans and pulled his huge dick out of his fly, all erect, fucking hard as a rock, stroking that long hard tube of male meat as he watched his good buddy eat out his girlfriend’s butthole.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the rimming of my ass for many long minutes, then pulled away from Bobby’s tongue and turned around reaching down for his jeans and unbuckling his belt, then unzipping his fly.
“Nice!” I said, pulling out Bobby’s hard dick. Though he was no super hung freak like my boyfriend Doug, Bobby was pretty well endowed and had himself a thick, nicely shaped cock. “Let me taste this baby.”
I leaned down and took Bobby’s hard cock in my mouth, looking over at Doug, who was smiling smugly and stroking himself. Doug always likes watching me with another dude’s dick in my mouth, and I love showing off what a hot cocksucker I am.
“Suck that dick, babe!” Doug hissed at me, and suck it I did. I sucked the shit out of that fuckin’ big dick of Bobby’s. Before I came up to Cleveland I was pretty well known in the hollows of West Virginia as one of the best cocksuckers around, and I was showing Bobby and Doug just how I got that reputation, slowly taking that big shaft all the way down my throat, to the balls.
“What’d I tell you?” Doug said to his buddy.
“Damn, she’s good,” Bobby said, pressing down on my head.
That dick I was sucking was going to feel pretty good up my ass. A year ago I would’ve said Bobby’s dick was an ass-fucking challenge. But after taking Doug’s eleven inch monster on a weekly basis for almost a year I knew it was going to be a piece of cake. A piece of cake I was hankering to try now. So I stopped sucking that cock of Bobby’s and flipped around, sticking my hot little country white trash butt in his face like a bitch in heat, a bitch in ass heat.
“Ready to fuck this cute little redneck ass of mine?” I purred at Bobby, looking back over my shoulder at him with a sexy grin, and eyes smoldering with cock lust.
“Damn right I am!” Bobby growled, fisting his dick, slick with my spit.
“Well stick it up my ass and fuck me,” I hissed at him.
“Got some lube?” Bobby asked, looking over at Doug, who chuckled. “Hell, she don’t need no lube for your tool,” Doug said, slowly stroking his massive tool. And he knew it too. With me now accustomed to taking his beer-can thick cock in my ass, I could manage ordinary studs in my butthole after just a little licking.
“Yeah, I don’t need no lube, Bobby, that ass-lickin’ you just gave me was plenty good enough,” I said as Bobby, sort of shocked that I was gonna take him up the ass with no lube, stared at me as I waved my foxy little ‘fuck me’ ass in his face. I looked back to see him, dick in hand, press it between my cheeks and felt his knob right against my greedy little shithole. Damn, do I ever love it up the fuckin’ ass! I didn’t even give Bobby a chance to work it inside me as I pushed back on his tool, spearing my asshole on his big cock.
I looked over at my boyfriend and winked. Doug loves to watch me fuck other guys, and he especially likes to see me take it up the ass. And I’m sure having Bobby fuck my butt was extra exciting, since Doug knew he had his ‘deal’ in place and knew he’d soon get his chance to park his nearly foot long tool up Bobby’s poor little boy butt.
“Feel good up my ass chute?” I asked, looking back at Bobby.
“Shit, yeah, feels fuckin’ great, Tina,” he said as he picked up the pace and started hammering it inside me, working that nice log of his right up to the balls.
“Aren’t you happy now, Bobby?” Doug chuckled, “your dream’s come true.”
“Happy as fuck!” Bobby growled as he kept ramming it up my ass.
Me? I was happy as fuck myself, taking it up my sexy, greedy ass, reaching down between my legs to finger my clit as I took it, took it and loved it, moaning like the hot young bitch I always become whenever I had a hard dick deep inside me.
Now Doug got up off the couch and brought his dick up, waving that fat long wand in Bobby’s face. I looked up to see Bobby staring at it like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at. I knew how he felt. I’d been sucking and fucking Doug’s cock for a year solid now, and, still, every time I stared at that freakin’ tool it amazed me. And having it sticking in his face was blowing Bobby’s mind now too, even though he and Doug had some cock history together.
“Been a while since you laid eyes on this baby, huh?” Doug growled, stroking his wrist-thick shaft lazily, showing off for Bobby, and for me, as Bobby stared at it like he was almost hypnotized.
“Man, I forgot just what a freak of nature it was,” Bobby said, his eyes glued to it.
“Suck that freak dick, Bobby! Suck it like you fuckin’ mean it!” I hissed at him.
“Tastes good too, remember?” Doug said, pushing it in Bobby’s mouth as Bobby opened wide and wrapped his lips around the thick tool. That dick of Doug’s is a fuckin’ mouthful, take it from me, even just the knob. I looked up at Doug and winked, loving the scene, taking it up the ass while the dude who was fucking me was leaning over and sucking on my boyfriend’s huge dick.
Bobby was really into a groove now, holding me by the hips as he kept slamming it up my ass while he wolfed down more and more of Doug’s dick, wolfed it down like a pro. But then queers and bi studs know how to suck cock. Doug said they were better at it than most chicks. Guys know what dicks are all about, so a guy sucking another guy’s dick knows the score.
Watching Bobby suck Doug’s cock now all of a sudden made me want to see Doug fuck him, take that tool he was sucking up his ass. So I pulled my own bottom away from Bobby’s dick. Believe me, I could’ve taken that cock up my ass a lot longer, I was loving it. But now I wanted to watch my boyfriend do some ass fucking.
“I think you need to get fucked now, dude,” I told Bobby, tapping the rug. “So get the fuck down here and stick it out for us the way I stuck it out for you.”
Bobby, looking a little unsure of himself now, got down there on elbows and knees and stuck out his ass like a good boy as I playfully slapped that smooth, muscled butt of his a couple of times
“Want me to get him nice and ready for you?” I asked Doug, with a sexy smirk on my face.
“You know the drill, babe,” he said, and I sure as shit did know. Before I took that freakily huge dick of Doug’s up my ass I had to be well-prepped. So now I looked down ay Booby’s gorgeous butt, smooth and muscled and tanned, sticking out like another ass-slut in heat, like me before him. I spread him wide open and stared down at his butthole, at his male fuckhole. I’d watched studs get fucked up the ass before, but to see my boyfriend’s wrist-thick cock bust open a cute guy’s tight little hole, now this was going to be a real treat!
So I leaned down now and started eating that hole, really lapping away at Bobby’s ass, looking up Doug as I rimmed his buddy real good, making sure he got a good view of my hot snaky tongue digging into his pal’s hole.
“Hey baby? Why don’t you have a taste too?” I said. I’d only seen Doug eat out another dude’s ass once before. But I figured if he was going to fuck this hole, he ought to have himself a little taste first. And that’s what he did, getting down next to me and leaning over to dig his tongue into his buddy’s crack as I held Bobby wide open for him.
“Oh yeah, Doug, let me see you do it. Let me see you lick that ass,” I hissed, pushing back on the back of his head, watching him rim the hole.
While he was lapping away, I went over to get the big tub of anal lube we like to use. When I came back with it Doug pulled his tongue from Bobby’s ass and gave me room. I dug in for a big dab of the slick lubricant. spreading it around and then working it in with a couple of fingers, taking my sweet time. I love lubing up an asshole and getting it ready for a hard cock or dildo, including lubing up my own little shithole when I’m about to take one. I slapped more grease into his hole and worked it in with my fingers, knowing Bobby’s hole had to be very well lubed to take Doug’s monster dick.
Meanwhile Doug got in front of his buddy’s face again and started feeding him more of his cock, looking over at me, me who was greasing up Bobby while Doug fucked his mouth. Shit, we always made such a fuckin’ hot team when we ganged up on a slut or stud.
“Damn, I don’t know if I can,” Bobby said, pulling away and looking up at Doug, now really having to think about it, with him on elbows and knees and me greasing up his ass and Doug feeding him the huge dick he’d soon be expected to take, his part of the deal.
“Sure you can,” Doug said, rough insistence in his voice as he held Bobby’s head in place and fucked his mouth some more, gagging him.
“Yeah, Bobby,” I reminded him, “you had your chance to fuck my ass, now you gotta let Doug fuck yours. It’s the deal, baby.”
Doug and me looked at each other and laughed, taking total control of this cute male whore now.
“He’s as ready as he’s ever going to be,” I said to Doug after working more lube inside and twisting three fingers around in Bobby’s hole, stretching him. Doug pulled away from Bobby’s mouth, Bobby taking a big breath of fresh air now that his throat was free and clear, while Doug got behind him.

I spent a good five minutes eating Leslie’s pussy. It was the first time I’d tasted cum other than mine and to be honest about it I couldn’t tell the difference. I brought Leslie to two orgasms before I raised myself up to slide my cock in her, “What do you want?” I asked, “Should I make love to you, or fuck you?”
She looked me right in the eye and said, “Make love to me baby, I’ve already been fucked tonight.”
When it was over and we were lying together I said, “Stop me if I’m wrong. Every night you said you were working late you were actually being fucked by another man. That other man has been Tony, and I’m willing to bet that the first time you fucked him was because he more or less dared you to. I’ll also bet that the first time you fucked him it was on the back seat of our car.”
Leslie sat up and started to say something, but I cut her off, “Let me finish. The next day over drinks he apologized for his behavior, but left you thinking that he still thought you were prejudiced. Determined to prove him wrong you let him fuck you again that evening. What caused the next several times, the knowledge that you were violating the old taboo about white women and black men, or did you actually like being fucked by Tony?”
She was silent for a moment and the she said, “I suppose that it was a little bit of both.”
“What I don’t understand is your need to come home and fuck me every night after you were fucked by him.”
Again silence for a bit and then, “I don’t know if you will understand this, but I didn’t come home and fuck you. I had just been fucked and I came home and made love to you as a way of cleansing myself. Even when Tony was fucking me my mind was split in two pieces. One piece was the deliciously wicked feeling of forbidden sex and the wanton feeling of just rutting with another man. And the other piece was thinking of coming home and letting you make love to me and having the tenderness and caring that I got from you - two different worlds I guess.”
“And tonight, when Tony brought Jeff in to help him?”
I saw the shock register on her face, “You know? You’ve known all along?”
I looked at her, “I knew before it happened. I could have stopped it at any time, but I love you enough to let you do what you want. I was sure you loved me enough to come home to me, but the next few steps in your sexual transformation could change things so I felt that tonight I had to bring things out into the open.”
She gave me a questioning look and said, “What do you mean, my sexual transformation?”
I explained to her the plan that was supposed to turn her into a gangbang whore with the aim of turning her into a streetwalker working for a pimp. She looked at me with a look of incredulity and then she asked me how I knew these things. I explained to her the relationship between Sylvia and Tony and everything that had happened the night of the party and how Sylvia had diverted my attention so the black guys could try and seduce her. I told her how Sylvia had been keeping me informed on everything that had been happening. I didn’t tell her about the mirror and that I had been watching, but I did tell her about the way Sylvia felt about her and why and what Sylvia’s price for giving me the information was and that I had paid it.
She was quiet and just about the time I thought she wasn’t going to say anything she said; “It’s my fault.” I looked at her and she said, “It’s my fault she feels that way. I should have talked to her and explained why she didn’t get the promotion. She was the most qualified and the most experienced, but the company policy manual requires a minimum of one full year of employment before you can move into that position. She only had nine months and the company wouldn’t waive the requirement. I know, because I tried to get her one. She will get the next opening, but it’s my fault for not telling her all that.” She was quiet for a minute and then she said, “Was she good in bed?”
I chuckled and said; “I’m not asking you about Tony, or Jeff for that matter, so I’m not going to answer you on that one.”
More quiet and then she said, “I’ll get it out of her tomorrow anyway and for your information Tony and Jeff are great fucks. I’m going to miss them. I was having a great time getting all that sex.”
I looked her right in the eye and said, “Why are you going to miss it? I’m not telling you to stop, I’m just telling you their plan so you know what you will be getting into. You get to be the one to decide where to draw the line. You can fuck them as much as you want to, all I ask is that you come home to me.”
A long look and then she opened her arms, “Make love to me baby, make love to me.”
The next morning I called Sylvia before she left for work. Tony answered the phone and I asked for Sylvia. “Who’s this?” he demanded. I countered with “Who are you?” He responded with “Don’t give me no shit man, I asked you a question.” “And I asked you one asshole. When I call my girlfriend and a man answers I want to know what the fuck is going on. Now who the fuck are you and what are you doing answering Sylvia’s phone at this time in the morning?”
There was a moment of quiet on his end and then he said, “I’m her brother Tony.”
“Yeah! Like I’m supposed to believe that. She didn’t tell me about no brother.”
“Hang on” he said, “I’ll get her.”
There was silence for a minute and then Sylvia came on the line and said hello. “How is my little black baby this morning?”
“Fine sugar, hot enough to fuck, but you’re not here. What is Tony so wound up about?”
I told her about our conversation, “I thought I’d jerk his chain a little. I’m pissed off at him.”
She laughed, “Why? Because he’s fucking your wife? I thought that was turning you on. I thought you were getting a major charge out of seeing his black cock plowing that white slut you are married to.”
I said, “I’m pissed at him because he was planning on passing her off to someone else. I want my wife treated better than that.”
Then I told her the reason for the call, that I’d brought things out in the open and that I’d told Leslie everything except for the mirror. “I told her that I’d only screwed you one time as your price for giving me the information on what she’s been doing. She will probably call you in to her office today and I don’t care what you tell her, or how you handle it, but please keep the mirror our secret.”
She was silent for a moment and then said, “You told her about the plan?”
“I had to baby. If she wants to go forward with her affair with Tony she should at least know what she is getting into.”
“Wait a minute here” Sylvia said, “You mean she knows that you know and she might still see Tony? Does she care what it might do to your marriage?”
I laughed at that, “She has my permission baby. She can do what ever she wants as long as she comes home to me.”
I could almost hear her shaking her head in disbelief. “You think she will still come over here with Tony?”
“Don’t know. Only time will tell, but if she does I want to be able to watch. Call me and let me know if anything happens this morning. We’ll do lunch, okay?”
“You got it sugar. And sugar?”
“Yeah?” I said.
“I like you a lot better now.”
At ten-thirty I got a call from Sylvia and she said she had just left Leslie’s office and were we still on for lunch. We met at the café where we’d had our first meeting and the first thing Sylvia said was, “I don’t hate her anymore. In fact I left her office feeling guilty for what I’d helped do to her. She told me why I didn’t get the job, showed me the policy and procedures manual where it said I needed a year on the job, and she even showed me the copy of request for a waiver that was denied. I felt real bad about the situation. She apologized for not telling me why I was passed over.” Then Sylvia giggled, “Then she asked me if you had eaten my pussy and I told her that you had and that I’d loved it. Then she asked if I’d like to take you to bed again and when I said yes she said she would work out a way to arrange it. She said it was the least she could do for you considering what you are letting her do. I could learn to like that lady a lot. You two got something I’ve never seen before. I hope I can find a guy like you, and if I do I’ll do my best to be like your wife. But she is still a slut - her words, not mine - and she said she likes being a slut for my brother. Then we talked about Tony and the plan he had for her.”
They had talked for almost an hour and the gist of the conversation was that Leslie wanted things to remain as they were. She was willing to go as far as the gangbang, but she wanted to know how to keep Tony from getting tired of her. Then she had asked Sylvia if she was still going to tell me everything and when Sylvia had asked her if Leslie wanted her to, Leslie had said yes and then had said, “I just wish there was some way he could watch.” Sylvia had almost told her about the mirror, but then she had remembered that she promised me she wouldn’t.
“So” I said, “Does this mean we are on for tonight?”
Sylvia smiled and said, “I guess so, but the price of admission hasn’t changed.”
I chuckled and said, “I’ll gladly pay it sweetie.”
That night I ate Sylvia’s pussy twice, once before I fucked her and once after, and then I watched as Leslie got soundly fucked by Tony and Jeff and when she got home I was in bed waiting for her.
“Sweetheart, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve had so much cock tonight that I don’t think I’ll be able to fuck you.” She saw the look on my face and then she laughed, “So I brought a substitute and Sylvia walked into the room. Leslie said, “I can’t figure out a way for you to watch me so I’m going to watch you.”
“Ready for your little black baby sugar?”
It was a novel experience for me to have Leslie watch me fuck Sylvia and eat her pussy, but I gave it my best shot and then I got to do something really unique - I got to sleep between Leslie and Sylvia. In the morning I woke up with my cock in someone’s mouth and I looked down and saw Sylvia working on my dick. When it was hard she turned to Leslie and said, “Your turn” and Leslie swung over me and mounted me. Two seconds later Sylvia sat on my face. God, what a glorious way to start a new day.
I called Sylvia at work around ten and asked her if we were on for that night.
“Not tonight sugar. I think your favorite slut is going to be coming home early tonight. Sorry sugar. I was really looking forward to collecting admission. I’ve fallen in love with that tongue of yours.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You’ll have to ask your wife about that sugar.”
“You going to be home around five? I love the way your pussy squirts when you come and I’m willing to let you have some of the tongue you love if you’ll squirt for me.”
She laughed, “God, but you are one silver tongued devil. I’ll be here waiting for you sugar.”
I didn’t get home until seven that night and I found Leslie waiting for me. “Didn’t expect you to be here so early. Isn’t tonight the night you were supposed to be moved up to three?”
Leslie smiled, “I’m changing Tony’s plan a little. Sylvia thinks the way to keep Tony from losing interest is to play hard to get, so for the next couple of days you get to be the only one to fuck me. Can you handle it? If you can’t there are the other guys from the Christmas party, the hand job, the blow job, and the guy who fucked me on the hood of his car. I think they might like another taste of me, you think?”
I said I’d do my best, but if she needed more to go and get it, “You know my position baby, you do what you feel comfortable with, just drag yourself home to me.”
She laughed, “I just might. The one who took me on the hood of his car had a pretty good-sized cock. And by the way” she said as she took off her clothes, “I’d like it if you were to spend some time with Sylvia, I like that girl and she says she loves the way you eat her pussy and I do feel I owe her something.”
“For what?” I wanted to know.
“For keeping you occupied so Tony could fuck me.”
I slid my cock into her and said, “While we are on the subject, what’s this thing about keeping Tony from getting tired of you? Is there some emotional attachment forming that I should get concerned about?”
She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me down to her, “No silly. It’s just that I’m enjoying what we have going right now. If it gets to the point that he tries to push me off on somebody else I’ll have to stop. I have no intention on going anywhere near where Sylvia says I’ll end up and I’m not going to go and find some one else when it’s over. Now shut up and fuck me.”
I smiled down at her and said, “Fuck you? Don’t you mean make love to you?”
She gave me a wicked grin and said, “No damn you, I haven’t been fucked yet tonight so you have to do it. If you can get it up again after, then you can make love to me.”
It was three days before Tony was able to talk Leslie into seeing him again. Over the next two weeks she met with him half a dozen times before she agreed to let Jeff back into the act. When that happened she experienced her first double penetration and watching it made me so hot that I fucked Sylvia so hard that she asked me to take it easy. The fourth week she didn’t argue when a third man was added and I watched as the three men did things with Leslie that I would have thought impossible. At one time she had all three of them in her and it drove her wild. That night she didn’t fuck them to a standstill, they wore her out. Surprisingly, given the fact that the three men had left her looking like a rag doll, Leslie still wanted my cock when she got home. She did two more nights with the three guys and then she stopped seeing Tony again.
During the same period I was seeing Sylvia on a regular basis and still doing my best to keep up with Leslie’s demands, which had slowed down some now that she was fucked by three other guys. Once she stopped seeing Tony again I had to try to pick up the slack and I was starting to have some serious doubts about my ability. It was three weeks before Tony talked her into coming back and on her second night they brought in a fourth man. I watched through the mirror as the four men did all the things that four men could do to a woman, but for some reason it didn’t turn me on. It was just too repetitious and with all those bodies around it was difficult for me to even see Leslie and it was seeing her, I realized, that was the turn on. When they were done Leslie was left lying limp on the bed, a cum covered mess, and I wondered if she would be able to get home on her own. Sylvia read my thoughts and told me to go on home and that she would take care of Leslie.
About an hour after I got home Sylvia came in with Leslie and Leslie gave me a rueful smile and said “They did me good tonight baby. I’m going to soak in the tub and let Sylvia tell you all about it. Besides, she likes the price you pay for information.” I woke up with the two women in bed with me, but Leslie begged off and let Sylvia do the honors. Over breakfast I asked Leslie if she was going to keep on. “Last night you were pretty whipped and that was only four guys. How are you going to be able to do a gangbang with six or seven guys there? Maybe it’s time to end this little adventure.”
Leslie shook her head, “I want to do it at least once. I may have to be carried home, but I do want the experience.”
That night Leslie stayed home and we made slow leisurely love several times over the course of the evening and talked a lot about where we were heading. Specifically, about whether she was going to be able to remain a one woman man after her interlude with Tony was over.
“I don’t know?” she said, “Are you going to want me too?” I didn’t have an answer for her.
The following morning I got a call from Sylvia telling me that the gangbang was on for that night, “Make sure you don’t miss this one sugar.”
I told her that I would be there in plenty of time to pay the admission change and she said, “Sorry sugar, I can’t do that anymore” and she told me that she had started seeing a guy and she liked him a lot. “I can’t