Ay: Ağustos 2024

Shy Subordinate Surprises The Boss

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Samantha checked herself out in the mirror in preparation for her zoom call. It was the first team call of the new year and many people were still off. As it was just the two of them they agreed to work from home today.

She looked in the mirror. She wasn’t sure why she was so bothered by her appearance for the call, as it was only Isobel joining today. She tidied up her short blonde hair and gently applied her bright red lipstick. Her green eyes glimmered in contrast to the red colour. She pressed her lips together and smiled to herself. She thought she looked pretty good, considering how tired she felt inside.

She dialled in and Isobel was already on the call. Isobel could be very quiet in the office, especially in large groups, but with Samantha she was different. She always perked up and appeared more confident in her presence.

As always, Isobel immediately smiled upon seeing Samantha on her screen.

“Hi Sam! Happy New Year!” Isobel exclaimed, looking genuinely happy to see her.

“Hi Izzie. Happy New Year to you too. How was your night?” She asked.

“Oh you know me, I had a quiet one with a few friends. It was nice actually.” Isobel said as she beamed at Samantha.

“Ok, well I won’t take up too much of your time as I know you have a lot to catch up on. I wanted to share these slides with you.” Samantha said, as she clicked on the share button.

Her heart nearly jumped into her mouth as she realised her mistake. There was a personal item on her screen she had no intention of sharing. Quickly, she clicked on the X and felt her face flush with embarrassment. Isobel was silent. She pleaded inwardly that she had not seen it.

She looked at Isobel. She was still smiling, but didn’t appear to have noticed anything. Samantha turned red and took a deep breath, praying she hadn’t seen it.

“Do you know what, I can share this with you in the office tomorrow, I’ll let you get on.” She said in a fluster, her face feeling hot.

Isobel looked a little surprised, but said her goodbyes and disappeared off the screen.

Samantha cursed herself for not being more careful and continued with her work.

Throughout the day she felt a little on edge. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling. A tinge of nerves? Excitement? She put it down to being off work over Christmas and going into the office tomorrow.

After a long day she finally closed her laptop and got herself a glass of red wine.

She slipped her wine and was contemplating what to make for dinner when her phone pinged. She lifted her phone and unlocked it, freezing when she saw the name.

Isobel.

Her heart beat faster and her skin suddenly became clammy. Isobel hardly ever messaged her on her personal phone. Quickly she opened the message.

“Hi. I hope you don’t mind me messaging you. I saw what was on your screen earlier. I only saw a glimpse of it, but I liked the look of it.”

Samantha’s heart was almost in her mouth. Here was her quiet colleague telling her she was into the same thing she was.

Samantha had been separated from her husband for just over a year now. She was enjoying the freedom she finally had to explore in many ways. It also meant she hadn’t been intimate with anyone since her husband. It had been far too long.

So, she had a lot of free time alone, something she wasn’t used to. She got into reading. One evening she read a particularly steamy romance novel that got her juices Maltepe travesti flowing. She had always had a creative side. The idea hit her that she could try writing her own. So she did. Except her stories were much more lewd and sexual. Her romance writing had quickly evolved into erotica. The filthy, dirty kind.

She brought up the document she was working on on her phone. She blushed at the title. “Making the boss cum.”

Had Isobel seen the title? It was larger and a lot more noticeable than the rest of the words. She gulped down some more wine and read her text again. She couldn’t believe it. Why was Isobel telling her this?

As her boss, she was conflicted. But something was pushing her to reply. She opened the message once more and began typing a reply.

“Hi Isobel. I’m sorry you weren’t supposed to see that! So you like reading erotica?

She sent the message and drank some more wine in anticipation of her reply. Her heart was pounding, her body felt tingly. She had seen Isobel in a new light. Even though she knew this was inappropriate she couldn’t escape that thrilling feeling she was having right now. She told herself she was likely being friendly and trying to make her feel at ease for accidentally sharing something inappropriate at work.

Her phone pinged again and she felt a rush seeing her name light up. “I do. Did you write that yourself? I’d love to read it properly.”

Perhaps she was genuinely interested in reading erotica.

Taking a deep breath she replied.

“I did write it myself. I’m fairly new to writing, but I’d love you to read it.”

An immediate response came.

“Send it to me. I’ll give you my feedback.”

Taken back by the abrupt message, Samantha didn’t waste any time finding her document and sending it to her. Her body felt a rush as she pressed the send button.

She waited. It wasn’t a long story. It shouldn’t take her long to read it.

Samantha felt increasingly anxious waiting. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent it. Isobel was her subordinate. In her excitement and haste she didn’t think about the potential consequences.

Finally, another ping indicating a new message.

“That is incredible. You are quite talented. I can give you more feedback tomorrow in the office if you like.”

Samantha smiled in relief. That excited feeling came back. She shouldn’t be talking about erotica at work, but Isobel was trustworthy. She hadn’t shared this with anyone before and really wanted to hear her feedback.

She typed.

“Sounds great. Goodnight.”

The next day in the office was busy. Samantha had barely had a chance to say hello to Isobel. The end of the working day was approaching and people were heading home, shouting their goodbyes to her, walking by her office. She hoped she hadn’t missed Isobel.

The office hum died down slowly until there was silence. She turned off her computer, a feeling of disappointment washing over her. She thought about her story. She sat at her desk in a daze for a few minutes.

“Hello Sam.” Samantha snapped out of her daze and saw Isobel standing at the door. She looked different. Samantha hadn’t noticed just how attractive Isobel was before. The figure hugging black dress she was wearing accentuated her curves. She normally wore her hair up at work, but her long dark curls cascaded down her shoulders. She looked beautiful.

“Hi Isobel. I thought I’d missed you. Maltepe travestileri Really pleased you came to see me.” Samantha said, suddenly feeling a tension in the room she had never felt before in her presence.

Isobel closed the door and walked towards her with a smile on her face. She sat down opposite her, flicking her hair back as she did.

“I loved your story. I thought it was incredibly sexy.” Isobel said the last word so quietly it was barely a whisper.

Samantha blushed. Her palms started to get clammy and she felt a tingling all over. The energy in the room had shifted.

Isobel looked at her. Her demeanour had changed. She no longer looked like the shy woman with very little to say.

“Thank you Isobel. That’s kind of you.” She said, noticing her normally confident voice waiver as she spoke.

“Please, call me Izzy.” She said, standing up and walking closer to Samantha’s desk. “I think it’s a good story, but I do have some feedback.”

Isobel gently ran a finger along her desk as she spoke. “I would have preferred it if it was a woman making the boss cum.”

Samantha swallowed hard. She had never been with a woman before. She watched as Isobel walked around her desk toward her, looking confident and sexy. Who was this woman?

“Oh really? Well, I’ve never written anything like that before. I’m not sure I know how. I don’t have any experience in real life.” Samantha mumbled and shifted uncomfortably in her chair, unable to hide her nerves.

“I can show you.” Isobel said, full of confidence.

Samantha nodded feeling surreal. Her heart was pounding, her head swirling. She couldn’t believe this was happening. But she knew she wanted more.

“Please. Go on.” Samantha said quickly.

Isobel got onto her knees in front of her. She placed her hands on Samantha’s thighs. Samantha trembled and bit her lip. Her touch on her skin was electric. Every sense in her body was going into overdrive.

She waited eagerly.

“The boss is a very busy woman. She works so hard and needs someone to take care of her. Someone to help her release that tension.” Isobel whispered these words as she slid her hands up Samantha’s thighs.

Samantha tensed up, still nervous. She was turned on, exhilarated, yet incredibly nervous. Isobel gave her a knowing look.

“Relax Sam. That’s why I’m here. To help you unwind.” She said, moving one hand onto her panties. Isobel grinned as she rubbed the palm of her hands gently up and down her mound.

Samantha gasped in delight feeling her wetness soaking her panties as Isobel rubbed. She slumped in the chair and let herself go. There was no denying how much she was enjoying it.

“That’s it. Relax. I was a little surprised at your words. How dirty you are. You have quite the imagination.” Isobel moved her fingers round and round over her panties, rubbing her clit through the material, causing Samantha’s wetness to soak through even more.

Isobel’s words and movements were driving Samantha wild. Samantha breathed faster, she desperately wanted more and started grinding her hips up and down Isobel’s hand. She had no shame now, she wasn’t hiding what she wanted.

Finally, she felt her hands slide on the rim of her panties, her fingers grazing side to side, teasing her and making her squirm. She lifted her legs up, enabling Isobel to glide off her soaking wet panties.

Isobel pushed her dress up and travesti Maltepe stared. Samantha could barely take it any more. She desperately wanted her to touch her.

“Look at that. What a delicious looking cunt.” Isobel said, grinning and staring at her with her legs wide open, exposed and dripping wet.

Samantha was shocked hearing that word come from Isobel’s mouth, yet she couldn’t help the throbbing in between her legs and the instant gushing in response. She opened her legs wider and looked over at Isobel, making her need and desperation obvious.

“Hmm. That’s it, open up for me. Let it go.” Isobel said. She moved in closer.

“Tell me what you want, Sam. What you need. I want to hear you say it.” Isobel said, staring into Samantha’s eyes with lust.

Samantha had to take a deep breath, finding this moment surreal. Here she was sitting in her office, legs spread wide, her pussy exposed, wet and throbbing. There was her colleague, sitting on her knees desperate to pleasure her.

She exhaled and tried to relax. She almost didn’t recognise her own voice as her words came out. “I want you to touch me. Touch my pussy. Make me cum.” Samantha looked at Isobel and melted into the chair as she slowly slid her hands up her thighs.

Samantha held her breath. Isobel moved her thumb onto her clit, rubbing in small circles, causing her to gasp. She couldn’t help but thrust her hips up higher, loving the touch of Isobel’s soft hands and yearning for more.

She continued to stroke in circles. Samantha’s juices poured out of her. She didn’t think she’d ever been this wet. She relented and let it out. Moaning and writhing she orgasmed, shaking uncontrollably.

Isobel smirked. “That was fast. If it were my story we wouldn’t be done yet.” She said before surprising Samantha once again by moving closer and taking a lick of her pussy. Her tongue worked slowly, starting at the bottom, gliding it between her lips, parting them before grazing her clit.

Samantha’s moaning had changed, it was far more needy and desperate. She was loving it and wasn’t afraid to show it anymore.

Isobel continued licking her up and down. She slipped two fingers in and concentrated on her clit with her tongue. She stopped to watch Samantha squirming in pleasure.

“Hmm. Your pussy feels tight. Warm. So wet.” She said as her fingers slid in and out with ease. The sounds of Samantha’s pleasure were clear. Her wetness, her moaning, her exasperated breathing reverberated around the room.

Samantha was in a world of pleasure, she knew it wasn’t going to be long before she orgasmed again. Isobel’s rhythmical tongue and fingers worked their magic. She licked her clit in circles and eased her fingers in and out of her pussy.

Samantha let go and moaned in delight at her second powerful orgasm. Her legs shook uncontrollably. She collapsed fully into the chair, completely spent.

Isobel licked her lips and stood up. Samantha thought she was going to bend over for a kiss for a second but was left disappointed. Isobel must have noticed the look on her face. She bent over to put her hand on her shoulder, revealing a teasing cleavage in her tight black dress.

“Don’t worry, You have plenty of material to work on for now, but that doesn’t mean the story is over. See you tomorrow.” She said, turning to walk away.

Samantha inhaled, the mix of her own scent and Isobel’s perfume was intoxicating. She was left with mixed emotions.

She closed her eyes and crossed her legs, rubbing her soaking wet pussy together feeling the last pulses of her desire throbbing gently.

She smiled and opened her eyes. Her mind was swimming with thoughts and ideas. She couldn’t wait to get stuck into the sequel.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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The Morning After Pt. 01

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I woke up from a hazey deep sleep and found myself alone in her bed. The deep feeling in my lower belly and between my legs pulsed in need.

“Where is Florence,” I wondered as I sat up in her bed and pulled the thick duvet off my body. I stood up wearing only panties and her shirt, an oversized band t from a concert I had never seen. Typically I would have been self conscious in such an outfit but something about wearing her t shirt made me feel warm inside. Like I was fully hers wrapped in her clothing. Like I was owned. The pressure in the lower half of my body intensified. “I need to find her quick,” I thought.

My mission ended before it started as I saw her curled up on the couch watching television. She looked so petite with a throw blanket on her lap and morning hair thrown up into a bun. I had never seen someone so small look so powerful.

“Sleepy head, come here.” A warm grin filled her face as she saw me. This smile always shocked me. How could her face brighten so wildly looking at me. Before I could question Maltepe travesti I moved towards her and she opened the blanket. Florence had a tight tank top and boxers on.

“Jesus Christ, she’s perfect.” I gasped internally as I admired her perfect nipples pressing through the tank top.

“I need those in my mouth.” My inner dialogue was on one track this morning. She wrapped me up in her blanket and took me in her arms. This was my new favourite place.

“Good morning.” I shyly smiled, as I pressed my body into hers desperate to feel her closeness.

“Sleep well Bell?” She asked me, holding me closer. I could feel her nipples through the tank top.

“Perfect.” My mind was jelly. Florence knew that.

“As perfect as you look in my t shirt?” Florence teased.

“I…I…” I stammered like an idiot.

“Don’t I…I me Isobel.” Florence responded in her confident, in control tone. “You know how sexy you look, you must.”

I didn’t, truly I didn’t, but if Florence told me I was a fish Maltepe travestileri I would jump in the water and try to swim. She had that effect on me. I hung on every word she said.

I bit my lip, “well you are always right Florence.” My lips curled into a smile.

“Music to my ears.” She purred has her hands made their way under her t shirt onto my skin. “I enjoyed myself playing with you last night, pet. I’d like to do the same right now…how does that sound.”

“Please,” I arched my back leaning into her touch. I was in need.

Florence began to kiss my neck and move her hands to my lower stomach.

“Sweet girl. I’m obsessed with you.” She whispered. I gleamed and melted. She started to flirt with the edge of my panties with her finger tips. Fuck I loved her finger tips.

“Please go inside.” I begged.

“Well what’s the fun in that Bell? Giving in to what you desire. No, I prefer to make you wait.” Her fingers increased their movement around the waist band of my panties, gently travesti Maltepe tickling my hip bones.

I moaned. Easily I could reach down and peel the panties off myself but I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. They’d come off when Florence wanted them too and that was the best part of all.

She moved her hands down to my thighs. Soft touches from her fingers made my hips begin to wiggle. I wiggle my hips into her, desperate for her hands to make their way North for some relief.

“Please.” I murmured under my breath.

“Please what?” Said Florence.

“Touch me.” Was all I could say, breathless from her attention.

“I am touching you. Good girls are specific. You want to be a good girl don’t you?”

Good girl never had meaning before Florence. Being a good girl was the best thing ever now. Florence’s good girl.

“Yes!” I gasp. “Um my pussy, please touch my pussy.”

Florence responds. “You’re so cute. Let me see about this pussy of yours.”

Her finger tips began to touch my pussy through the panties.

“Baby you feel so warm.” Florence smiled. “You must be so desperate.” Her fingers delicately moved the crotch of the panties to one side. “Isobel, baby are you wet for me?”

The cold air touched my pussy and I gasped “I’m so wet for you. Please, please Florence.”

to be continued

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Daddy, Take Me Ch. 18

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Amateur

A continuation of Daddy, Take Me, albeit for now, concerned with Chloe and Maisie’s growing relationship. As always, thanks to Kenji for his attention and help in editing.

Chapter 18

I woke to a soft knock on the door and heard Lily’s distinctive eight-year-old shrill.

“Chloe…Chloe,” she whispered, but enough for me to hear.

“What?” I grumbled, my hands cuddling Maisie’s warm breast.

“Can I…come in?” she asked, hesitantly.

Fuck! There goes my calculatingly planned morning seduction of the beautiful woman sleeping beside me.

“Come in,” I whispered, begrudgingly.

Lily haltingly opened the door, peering in and padded softly across the carpeted floor. She stood at the side of the bed, staring at me, ’til I motioned for her to clamber in. Her smile said it all. I shimmied my butt against Maisie’s and cuddled my sister.

“Sleep!” I sulked, into her ear. “And NO snoring or twitching around.”

I could feel her giggle, as she held my hand to her body. Humph!

I woke again, some time later, to a warm breath on my neck, and hands rubbing my back. I pushed my bum into Maisie’s body, revelling in her slow touches. I stealthily turned over, her messy hair making her look even more adorable. I whispered a quiet, “Sorry,” and frowned.

“Shhh,” is all she said. “She missed you. It’s fine, mo ghràdh,” and silently kissed me.

We traced our fingers over each other, as if this was the first time we had woken together. I playfully fingered her covered breasts, Maisie giving me a little pout now.

“I’ll…make it up to you, mon amour,” I sighed.

“There’s no need, Chloe. This is nice just waking with you again,” she sighed, and held me tight in her arms.

Too soon, Lily woke, stretched and smiled at us, rolled over me and planted herself between us.

“Morning, Maisie…morning, Chloe,” she whispered, and snuggled into us.

“Morning, trouble!” I smirked. “Don’t you have school today?” I asked.

“Soon, yeah…but not now?” she asked, hopefully.

“Out!” I admonished her. “Time to get ready…and don’t wake mums and dad, ‘kay?” I emphasised. She hugged and kissed us both, then quietly walked out, closing the door behind her.

Maisie and I fell into one another’s arms, disregarding our morning breath, and kissed. I moved her wavy, red locks from her face, intently looking at this beautiful creature.

“God, I’m so in love with you, darling,” I gushed, and kissed her again.

Our hands delved beneath the covers, her hands in my shorts, mine in hers. I brought my body closer to her, rubbing my small mounds against her larger, firmer breasts, our lips softly touching. My fingers mimicked hers, as we drew apart each’s dewy folds, fingers gently but purposely prodding. My burning looks reflected hers, as our thumbs delicately rubbed the other’s still-hidden clit. The only sound was the hum of jagged, short breaths, our fingers sliding in and out of one another, as our legs were squirming around.

“This…this is so…” Maisie moaned in my hair, her body shaking, the smells of our scent filling the room, as I rubbed her stiff button, and three fingers taking her.

She cried, shuddered and moaned my name, as she emptied herself on me. I pushed my finger up inside a bit more, sliding it in and almost out. Maisie squealed and moaned, my face and chest drenched with her.

We locked eyes as we came, the muscles in her pussy began contracting so forcefully, that they nearly pushed my fingers from her. When I felt her exertions calm down, I slipped my finger from her, and we stared into each other’s eyes for moment, and then began to kiss softly and deeply.

“Morning, darling,” I grinned.

“I’d say it was, leannan,” Maisie chuckled.

“I am your lover, aren’t I?” I asked, responding to her Scottish.

“Forever…if you’ll have me,” she whispered, and we embraced again.

Slowly our lives intertwined again. I felt that the four days with my dad had somehow created a rift, subtle yes, but a rift nonetheless. We weren’t fully connected and back on track Bahçelievler travesti after that week; one of the longest of my short life. I was more determined than ever to agree with my parents that our intimacy would stop. I couldn’t risk my love for Maisie.

At the time, Maisie had finished her two-hundred-and-sixty-five page thesis for her PhD in horticulture, which she was superb at…but I was biased! She had secured a position at a well-known and respected firm two years ago, and was slowly working her way up. At just twenty-four, she was focused and certain of the direction she wanted. As I was finishing my Masters, she put my name forward to her company for a part-time role. ‘Kay, it may have been a bit of patronage, but I felt I had the background and vision to bring to the organisation.

She set up an interview for me, excited at the prospect of working together, albeit in different areas. She kept assuring me that I was a shoo-in, and not because of her recommendations! As I’m writing this, twelve years later, I still tingle when I think of that day and how nervous I was. Maisie was kind enough to go down on me that morning, relieving just a bit of tension! I gathered my portfolio and my nerves, and headed in. After four gruelling hours, I was pleased with my presentation, the questions I asked and the answers I gave. I thought they were particularly taken with my dissertation on the current, and future practices in the reuse of vacant areas as urban gardens. I hate to use the over-used word, ‘passionate,’ but I was when it came to the aim of building communities, improving the landscapes and the quality of life of those who lived there.

I followed their eyes as they glanced over my thesis, hoping they saw a glimmer of something different, if not, at least new. I felt confident that they saw some potential with me, but God only knew at that point.

Maisie graciously took me away for the weekend, knowing I’d be fretting and over-thinking the interview. As usual, she kept the destination a close secret. Humph! As we headed west, I thought she was taking us to Brighton, the scene of more than a few romantic and wild weekends, but she kept driving! I was pestering her, as my sisters would pester me, the whole way, throwing out ideas one after another. She only swatted me three times, which was low!

The further we drove, the more certain I was that we were heading to my parents, and her mother’s, beloved Cornwall. I waved giddily at Stonehenge, wanting to stop off, but she had other ideas! Five hours later, we were in St Austell and I finally knew where we were going. We pulled into a delightfully charming, grey-granite stone house, complete with an original waterwheel!

“Really?” I gushed, and wrapped my arms around her. “This…this is perfect, mon amour. Just…” I glowed, and kissed her bright, glossy lips.

After checking in and changing, we headed down to the seaside, the brisk air invigorating us. We lazily walked along, hand in hand and revitalised, our bare feet welcoming the sea between our toes. We both sensed our lives were changing. Maisie had finished off her research paper for her PhD, so we were both in that unenviable limbo. But we had each other. We talked about all the things young lovers do—or should; the embracing of our dreams, hopes, and fears. Of what is and what could be. What we could be.

Maisie chuckled, lovingly indulging my over-analysing.

The afternoon was perfect, as we stopped off at a little shack selling crab, mussels and cockles. We sat in the high afternoon sun, sharing and feeding one another, then continued our walk, finding a private little cove where we sat, embraced, and fell deeper in love. We playfully touched and fondled one another, knowing that the evening would be the time to satisfy our simmering desires.

We slowly made our way back to our B we knew how the evening would end. I brought my fingers to her mouth, slowly wiping the excess cream from her lips. I looked at her and sucked them, exaggerating my hopefully seductive behaviour.

“Keep it, Bahçelievler travestileri up, Chloe. You’re only going to be in more, uh, trouble,” she giggled.

“Promises, promises, hmm?” I taunted back, my now-bare foot inching up her long legs.

Maisie grabbed my foot, and gracefully massaged my foot, her thumb pressing into that space under my toes. Fuck me, I thought, as I sighed too-loud. She never took her eyes from mine, my simmering pussy almost dripping with desire.

“I…I think we should go now, Maisie,” I stuttered.

She laughed lightly at me, and my obvious smouldering discomfort, and sighed, “Come on, leanabh-nighean,” and gently let go of my foot.

I cocked my eyebrows yet again, uncertain of the term she used.

“Baby-girl,” she smiled, and I melted, as my panties gushed.

We paid the bill and took a slow walk to the harbour’s edge, the twinkling lights of the boats bobbing up and down. We looked at one another, as my hand slipped between her partially opened coat. I gently fondled her firm breast, our lips touching, as she quietly moaned into my mouth.

We made it back to the room, both of us a bit too keen! I couldn’t imagine why! We pushed each other against the walls of the room, both jockeying for position, and control. Position and dominance would ebb and flow, as it had always done, but we both knew how this would end up. She pulled my head to hers, and bit my lip. I pushed her away, holding her neck in my hand, then pulled her back to me, and bit hers.

“So, you’re going to fuck me, hmm?” I smirked, my mouth on her neck, smelling and licking her.

As I kicked my pumps off, Maisie unhurriedly undid the faux-pearl buttons of my dress, deftly sliding the fabric over my shoulders, my bra-encased breasts open to her. We lazily kissed, her fingers caressing my bra, my nipples growing with our excitement. My dress silently fell from my shoulders, and gathered around my waist, and as she undid the belt, the cotton material fell to my feet.

I went to unzip her dress, but she swatted my hand away.

“In time, sweetie, aye?” she devilishly smiled, her mouth kissing and nipping my uncupped bra, my breasts heated with eagerness. Maisie grasped my arms and pushed them above my head, holding them in one hand, as she kissed her way down my arm, licking my armpit, and gently biting the fleshy part. I tried to wriggle away, her tongue on the shallow concave part of my underarm, stirring me, and making me groan louder. My gestures did nothing to stop her, as I writhed my pelvis onto hers, my tiny grumbles filling the room.

“You’re so…so…fucking bonny, Chloe,” she whimpered between sensitive lashes. Her mouth flowed down to my bra, her mouth attempting to suck the silk and my mound into her anxious mouth. My almost-silent murmurs encouraged her to keep trying, as she gently bit my breast. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, our eyes piercing one another. I smiled an eager smile, and pulled her back to my breast. Teasingly, she acted as if she was going to pull the dainty cup down, finally exposing me, but she didn’t. Maisie kissed me, turned and walked across the room, leaving me wet and anxious.

She kicked off one shoe, then the other, and turning her head around, smirked at me.

“Bitch!” I said, with a laugh, and walked towards her, as she delicately unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor. I ran and jumped on her, both of us falling on the bed in a heap. We twisted and turned each other, our lips firmly planted on each other amidst the loud giggles.

“Who’s in trouble now?” I foolishly asked, my fingers inside her panties, teasing her, as I had no intention of letting her cum.

As if Maisie read my mind, we continued to kiss, as she shimmied her panties over her bum, and energetically pushed them down her legs. I could only snicker to myself.

“Better?” she smiled.

“Hmmm, I don’t mind working for it, you know,” I giggled back, as she knelt up and grasped the edges of my wet, intimate lingerie. Maisie stuck her tongue out at me, travesti Bahçelievler as she slid my panties down my, hopefully, desirous body. She purposely kept her bra attached, knowing I loved her seductive teasing.

“I love your breasts covered by a proper bra, darling,” she murmured. “You’re so…incredibly beautiful,” she smiled, as her hands softly caressed the soft silk, my nipples still responding to her delicate touch.

“No more than I’m so enchanted with yours, mon amour,” I groaned, our hips slyly moving against the other’s.

Maisie grabbed a pillow, and asked me to lift. She slipped the soft cushion under my bum, angled now for her pleasure. She stretched her legs and lay down on me, our mons touching one another. Her hands went to my hair, pushing the outcast brunette strands away from my face, and she gently kissed me. Our covered breasts rubbed on each other, Maisie’s so much more plump than mine. ‘Kay, not by much, but my imagination always took over in these situations!

Her soft hands trailed slowly down my body, touching my eyes, my cheeks and fingers sliding along my lips. I opened my mouth expectantly, and she slipped a single digit in, as I gently sucked her. My hands, unstealthily wrapped around her back, urged her to touch me more. I unclasped her bra, a subtle giggle emanating from her mouth. I shirked my shoulders, and stuck my tongue out at her again. She held her arms out, as I carefully slipped the straps through, her bountiful, beautiful orbs on display…for me. I reached up, as she tried to wrest her arms from me, but I wouldn’t relent…yet. I pulled her down, her large nipple in my mouth, and sucked. I finally let go of her arms, and they quickly wrapped me up, as her pelvis pushed down, holding herself over me, so she could slide on my too-wet vulva. Her soft hands, once again, grasped my hair, and she pulled and pushed me, our secretions oozing and our breath ragged.

Maisie tried to pull my mouth from her full breast, but I wouldn’t let her get away. I lashed and licked, pinched and pulled and kissed and caressed her beautiful bust. Our constant moans and groans mixed with the others, our bodies slowly quivering. She moved her body, her eyes on my bra, as she leant down and engulfed the silk. With her teeth, she pulled it down, my now-firm nipple poking from beneath the soft shelter. She grabbed my arms and pinned them above my head, my sudden stretching causing my back to arch, her mouth almost frantically sucking my urgent nipple. Our groans turned to the more urgent ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’, as our pussies mashed together, clit on clit, playing and prodding. I pushed hard against her pelvic bone, knowing the pressure was where she needed it.

Our mouths were tight together, kissing, licking and sucking each other’s lips. Maisie kept my hands tight above my head, as we kept the steady pace, sliding against each other. Our eyes locked on each other’s as we kissed. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, pulling it just so, as I let it go. I sucked her top lip, too, and gently bit it, as she quivered when the delicious pain hit her. I felt us move our hips against each other, as I pulled one hand free, and swept over her warm face, and dishevelled hair. I pulled her hair back, and we looked at each other whilst I fondled her eyes with mine.

“My…my…Chloe…you’re so…so…ohhhh, fuck…just…ugggggh…ohhhh…God….I’m…I’m….so….clo—” she whined, as we took each other, our mouths slobbering over the other, our intense kisses turning into little bites, and our bodies moving as one.

“Cum…cum for…me…mon…amour,” I almost begged, as I felt her fingers prodding my mouth.

We looked at each other through half-lidded, glazed eyes, and with a final gasp, came on each other, our groans and shrieks echoing off the thick walls. My hips were fucking her, thrusting and pushing up on her, while hers did the same. We could feel each other’s sap gushing from within, soaking us both, and that excited us even more. With a final, long, “Uggggghhh,” my body stopped, my breath coating her breasts, and my heart beating as hers.

She laid her head on my one bra-encased breast, her breath still coming fast and quick. We lay there, our warm breath coating each other. We looked at each other, holding on, and silent, turning our heads and looked at each other. I licked her lips, hearing her softly moan into the still air of the room.

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Jenna’s Erotic World Ch. 05

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The Business Trip Jenna — Part 1

Tony’s work had organised for a conference in Las Vegas for all the executive managers for a week. It was all expenses paid and I know Tony was looking forward to it. It meant that I was going to be home by myself which I was not happy about.

Tony had just come home and told me the news. It was happening next week. I encouraged him to go. It was important to mix with the “top brass” when it came to work.

Suddenly the phone rang. Tony answered it.

“It is for you. It’s Jas” he said handing the phone over.

Jasmine, Tony’s sister-in-law, and I were remarkably close. We were more like sisters. She had married Tony’s older brother Agostino or “Gusto” pronounced Goosto, to his marine squad. Tony and I had only been going out for a short while when they married. We became fast friends ever since.

“Hey Jas, what’s up? I said into the phone.

“Just wondering what you were up to next week?” was Jas’s reply.

“Not much. Tony’s away on a business trip.”

“Where is Antonio going to without you?” she teased.

“Las Vegas.” I said.

“Ooh that’s fancy. Hey, I got a great idea. The kids are going to their Grand Mothers farm for the school holidays. I’m here on my own. You want me to come up and hang out?”

Gusto was on a tour of duty in the Middle East for 6 months and had only left three weeks earlier.

“Sure, sounds better than being by myself” I said.

A week later Tony was just waiting for his cab to pick him up when Jasmine arrived in her big yellow hummer.

“Antonio Rodriguez! How is my wonderful brother-in-law?” Jas said as she climbed out of her truck.

“What the hell is that thing you’re driving?” Tony asked.

“It’s your brother’s new toy. Says it reminds him of the transports on the base.” Jas said laughing.

“Well, it’s nice to see you. You’re looking good” Tony said shaking his head.

She did look great. She was two years older than me. Despite having had three kids she was in amazing shape. Gusto had always been a health freak even before he joined the marines and Jas had also been right into the whole fitness thing.

Jas had a beautiful figure. Her grandmother was Japanese, but she was second generation American. She had slightly almond shaped eyes with the straight jet-black hair of most Asian women. However, she had fuller breasts and a little more height than the average Asian woman. She had a super trim body with a flat stomach and for the first time, I noticed a beautiful, rounded ass through her jeans.

Just then the taxi arrived. I kissed Tony goodbye and then helped Jas with her bags into the house.

“So have you cancelled your appointments for this week?” Asked Jas.

I had my own business as a photographer, so I was able to clear my Calendar easily enough.

“Yep, nothing on the calendar. What did you want to do first?”

“Well let’s go to that beautician close to here. Time for some TLC, I think. Face, nails, hair then tonight there is a band I want to see at Paddy’s Irish Pub.” Was Jas’s immediate reply.

So, we spent several hours getting facials, manicures, and pedicures. We then went to the hairdresser and got our hair done. When we got back home, we went through our clothes and Jas helped me pick some clothes. I don’t go out much these days unlike Jas. She made sure that I wore something tight with a low neckline.

“You have to tease the boys with a sample.” She said with a gleam in her eye. Always the flirt.

We got to Pub and started mixing. The band was in full swing, and Jas had to go up and dance. I did to for a while. Several much younger men came up and started dancing with us. I was a little taken aback and not comfortable with this, so I went to refreshen my drink. I smiled as I watched the uninhibited Jasmine dance provocatively with a young man that must have thought he had scored lucky.

While I was at the bar smiling and watching Jas teasing the men, a woman standing next to me commented on the performance Jas was putting on.

“She sure has those guys interested.” The woman said.

“Yeah, she has always been like that.” I replied.

“Why aren’t you up there with her? The guys seemed interested enough.”

“Oh no I’m not into that.” I replied

“My name is Tammy.” She finally said introducing herself.

“Jenna.” I said shaking her proffered hand.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Tammy asked.

“Ah sure why not?” I said.

Tammy bought a round of drinks and we began talking. After a while I noticed our drinks were empty so thought I should buy a round.

“Would you like another drink?” I asked her.

“I’d love one.” She said smiling.

“How about we take our drinks and sit down somewhere more comfortable. My feet are killing me.” Suggested Tammy.

“Okay go grab a table, I’ll bring the drinks.” I said.

We sat at the table and just started talking. Several drinks latter we were laughing at something Tammy said when Jas grabbed a seat.

“Who’s your friend Jen?” asked Jas.

“Jas this is Tammy. Tammy this is Jas.” I said.

“Hello” Tammy said stiffly.

“Hey Jen, I need the bathroom. Come with Küçükyalı travesti me?” Jas said grabbing my hand and not leaving me a chance to answer.

When we got to the bathroom I said. “What the hell Jas?”

Jasmine was smiling and trying not to laugh.

“Jen I’ve been watching you. Did you realise Tammy is hitting on you?”

I was speechless. No surely, she wasn’t. Was she? I reviewed what had been happening and suddenly it was right there. Tammy had been flirting with me!

“Oh, shit Jas how could I be so naive? What do I do?”

“Depends. Do you like her?” Jas was now teasing me.

“Jas!” but my mind raced to a couple of weekends back when I was in a passionate embrace kissing another woman and how I enjoyed it. I didn’t want Jasmine to know this though.

“I’m kidding.” she said. “Just go back and tell her you’re not into that.”

Again, my mind raced back. I was confused. I went back to Tammy while Jasmine went to the bar.

“What happened to your friend?” Tammy said when I sat down.

“Oh, she’s gone back to dancing.” I said.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Tammy said without at all meaning it.

“Look I need to know. Have you been flirting with me?” I suddenly blurted out.

Tammy reached across the table and placed her hand on mine, gently running her thumb along the top of length of it.

“I thought you would never notice.” Tammy smiled coyly.

“I think I have given you the wrong impression. I’m not gay.” I said trying to supress the images that ran through my head.

“I never thought you were. But I do think you’re interested. Ever thought you might be Bi?”

“No, I’m not and I have never thought about being with another woman.” I lied and it sounded like it.

“Really? Well, I was wrong.” Tammy said and stood up. She leaned in close to me and took a business card out of her purse and put it gently in my hand.

“Here’s my number. Just in case you change your mind.” She smiled and then leaned in and kissed me gently full on the lips. I could taste her lip gloss and my head swam. And then she was gone.

Later that night as we caught a cab back to my place Jas would not stop teasing me.

“You know she was cute. The two of you might make a nice couple.”

“Oh, shut up Jas!” I said annoyed but not at her.

When we finally got home, we had a couple more drinks then headed to bed. Jas headed to the guest room, and I headed to mine. I closed the door, got undressed, pulled out one of the porn magazines I had under the mattress, flipped through to a section that had all girl action and began to masturbate.

The run in with Tammy had left me confused and very very aroused. I slipped my fingers into my already wet pussy and stroked my clit gently. After a minute or two I decided I needed more so I went into my draw and pulled out one of the long, big vibrators I had bought and slowly inserted into my now aching cunt. I turned it on to low and felt the thrum of the vibration run through my lower body. I began to pump the fake cock in and out with some urgency turning the setting to max. Suddenly I let out a loud moan before I could supress it as I came with such force that my lower body began to spasm for several minutes uncontrollably. It was intense and left me tired. I turned the light of and went to sleep.

The next morning, I joined Jas in the Kitchen for breakfast.

“Were you thinking about Tammy last night?” Jas said smiling evilly over her coffee mug.

“What?!” I said flustered.

“Oh, I came to your bedroom last night because I remembered something I was going to ask you, but I heard a buzzing and some loud moaning, so I thought I had better not interrupt.” Jas continued to smile.

“I uh… it was…” I could not come up with anything.

“Oh, come on everyone masturbates. Shit what do you think I do most times when Gusto is away for months on end? It’s about time you came out of your shell a little. I’ve known you for twenty years. I’m glad I heard you. It means we can be more open about a larger range of topics now.” Jas said frankly but with that mischievous smirk that meant she was being a tease.

I needed to share with my sister-in-law the changes in my life. I just knew she would understand and help me through some of the confusing thoughts.

“Jas I need to share something with you, but you can’t tell anyone. Not Gusto not even Tony. Promise?”

Jas looked at me seriously and her brows furrowed. “You can tell me anything Jen. We’re practically sisters”

So, I told her. I started with the dinner party we had with Tony’s old work friend Tarryn. How we ended up in a hotel room. How Tarryn and I got naked in front of the boys. Tarryn’s passionate embrace and kiss. The partner swapping. Jase fucking me. Me visiting an adult shop to broaden my horizon. Tony and I getting slightly drunk the previous weekend. Tony’s anal explorations, my experimentation in being spanked and then finally me insisting on being ass fucked to an extraordinary climax.

When I had finished Jas just sat there.

“Fuck!” Was the first thing she said.

“Jas is this even normal?” I suddenly needed Küçükyalı travestileri re-assurance that I was not “weird.”

“Jen you’ve covered more ground in two weeks than some people do in a lifetime. Wow! I thought I was adventurous, but you have suddenly leap frogged me and left me for dead!” Jas said with more than a bit of respect in her voice.

“Yes, but this thing with women. It has left me confused. Is it possible I’m gay?”

“No way Jen. From what you told me you love your cock. But it might be that you enjoy the company of both men and women. Truth be told when I was in college my roommate and I fooled around a little. We were both high on dope and never got past kissing and fondling in our underwear before I chickened out, but it was extremely exciting at the time.”

“So, you don’t think I’m a pervert or weird?” I was desperate for acceptance at this point now that I had spilled the whole story.

“No. You’re just very adventurous. I bet Tony has loved the change. I’ll say one thing for the Rodriguez brothers, they both love ass it seems.” Jas said laughing.

“Come on it’s hot. Let’s get into our bathers and go for a swim. Your pool is one of the main reasons I come to visit. Besides, I could work on my tan.” And with that Jas was off to get changed.

I went to by bedroom feeling like a weight had been lifted. I needed to share this with someone. I got changed into my one-piece bathers and grabbed a towel. Jas came out wearing her two-piece bikini. As I said she is a very athletic person and her body reflected this. I noticed and felt a little jealous of her flat tight stomach (even after three kids). Her long shapely legs, her well-shaped and firm breasts. She always looked at least ten years younger than her years.

We went outside and without hesitating she drove straight into the pool. I took my time letting my body get use to the chilly water. After a while we were both swimming and relaxing. We had been enjoying the water for about an hour when Jas got out and dried off. She lay on one of the large sun recliners by the pool. With one fluid movement she took her top of and lay back letting the sun dry and warm her body. I had seen her breasts on odd occasions, but this was the first time I really looked at them. They were marvellous. Beautiful swollen orbs with slightly darker areolae and firm round nipples that stood erect from the icy water. I felt a stirring in my stomach as I watched this beautiful creature absorbing the sun’s rays.

“You going to come and sun with me as well or are you going to sit in the pool there?” Jas asked with her eyes closed behind her sunglasses.

I got out and decided that I would do the same. I had never sun baked topless in my backyard even though it was completely private. So, I slipped my one-piece swim suite down and rolled it down to my waist so my chest was fully exposed. The slight breeze felt refreshing on my naked skin and the sun was warm. I lay back on the other recliner and put my sunglasses on and began to relax.

After some minutes I heard Jas say to me.

“You know this is the first time that you have been even partly naked in front of me Jen. I’ve got changed in front of you plenty of times and you always turn away. You have never changed in front of me.”

“I’ve always been shy. And I have peaked at you once or twice!” I said cheekily.

“Oh, have you now?” Jas said in some surprise.

“Yes. You have a lovely body. I wish mine was like it.” I said ruefully.

“You know you have a beautiful body. Since we have been honest this morning, let me tell you that I think you have a great pair of tits. I wish mine were as large as yours” Jas said. We were silent for a while.

“Come on one more dip before we go in for lunch.” Jas suddenly said.

She got up leaving her top behind and did a graceful dive into the pool. I decided what the hell. And dived in after her. I came up right in front of her feeling the electric shocks of the icy water hitting my bare chest. Jas caught me in her arms before my momentum could carry both of us off balance. My breasts pressed up against her naked ones and my stomach did somersaults again. I slipped my arms around her waist in a loose embrace.

“Thanks Jas.”

“Don’t mention it” she said with her arms around my waist. There we stood, barely touching the bottom in the deep end, in a loose embrace, tits pressed against each other. We let go of each other. We swam for a while then got out and headed to the house.

“I’ll grab a shower before lunch” Jas said.

“Me to.” But I stayed and watched Jas head to the other bathroom. What was I doing? I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but was it right? I could hear the water running and Jas stepping into shower. I walked to the door of the bathroom and stopped. I dropped my towel and pulled down the rest of my swim suite, so it fell to the floor. I gently opened the door and entered the bathroom. I could hear Jas humming to herself. I pulled back the shower screen and Jas jumped in surprise.

“Can I join you?” I said casting an appreciative eye over Jas beautifully curved naked body. I noticed travesti Küçükyalı that her pubic area was shaved into a Brazilian.

“Jen what are you doing? Go away.” Jas said but with little conviction. Instead, I stepped into the warm shower grabbed the soap and began to lather her breasts and stomach. What little resistance Jas had melted away and she brought me in closer.

“Jen ….” but I never let her finish because at this point, I kissed her with all my pent up desire. She resisted at first then gave in and I felt her tongue shoot into my mouth. My hands ran down her back and rested on her hips. I pulled our groins closer together as Jas slid her hands over my buttocks and squeezed them. My mouth went down her throat and I worked my way down to her tits. The warm water was falling on us as I licked and gently bit her nipples. Suddenly, the water stopped. I looked up and saw Jas had turned off the water, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along until we got to my bedroom. We then fell on the bed, wet as we were, entwined in each other’s arms.

“Jen I’ve never done this before.” Jas gasped out between kisses.

“Neither have I but I want try and you are the one I want.” I managed to get out.

With that I pushed her back and began to kiss her stomach, running my tongue lightly down to the wiry stretch of pubic hair she had. Jas pulled her legs up and spread them wide, so I had a beautiful view of her pussy and asshole.

I hesitated only for a moment then I dropped my head into her crotch and kissed those swollen lips. I could feel the sticky wetness of her sex and breathed in her musky odour. I ran the tip of my tongue gently between her lips savouring the taste of her. When my tongue flicked over her clit she moaned loudly. I took that as my queue and pushed my face deep into her cunt. I used my hands to pull apart her outer lips to get to the velvet smooth pinkness of her inner folders. I thrust deeply with my tongue enjoying the erotic taboo of eating another women’s pussy. I ran my tongue along the entire length of her slit from top to bottom. When I reached the bottom, I decided to continue and licked and probed her tight anal bud as well. My own sex was now pulsing, so I swung myself around so that I positioned myself over Jas’s face in a sixty-nine position. She did not hesitate at all. Aroused by my tongue in her pussy she attacked my wet fuck hole voraciously. I groaned in pleasure as I felt her tongue wriggle inside me. I continued to explore her bum hole with own tongue. Jas kept clenching her anal muscles almost trapping my tongue in her.

I crawled off Jas and heard her moan in protest. I reached into my bed side draw and pulled out one of the toys I had bought at the adult shop. To be truthful I had no idea whether I was even going to use it, but it fascinated me. It was a long V shaped strap on dildo obviously designed to be inserted into a women’s pussy with the other end standing erect like a giant penis. When the wearer began fucking their partner, every move, thrust or jerk would then be felt in her own sex as well. Jas’s eyes opened wide.

“When the fuck did you get something like that?” she asked.

“Just last week. Do you want to be the fucker or the fuckee?” I asked smiling pleasantly at her.

“The fuckee!” she said with no hesitation.

I used the lube in my draw to give the head of the cock a liberal coat, then inserted it’s entire nine length into my still wet hole. As the shaft of silicone slid into me, I shuddered. It rubbed against my clit sending shivers up my spine and making my knees weak. I firmly secured the straps between my legs and around my waist. With “my” cock securely in place I looked over to Jas.

“Ok bitch on your knees, I want to see that wet cunt of yours.” I had never spoken like this before, but with this massive erect pole between my legs I felt empowered to be bold. Jas’s eyes opened wider, then she giggled.

“Yes master.” She said pretending to be timid. She knelt so she was on all fours, elbows to the mattress and her ass up high in the air. I positioned myself behind her as I imagine Tony must have done with me in the past. I grabbed the head of the cock that was sticking out of my lips and positioned it so that it pressed lightly on the outer part of Jas’s dripping cunt. I then gently thrust my hips forward and watched in fascination as the length of the shaft slid into her folds. All the time I felt reciprocal pressure in my own snatch.

Jas gasped as I began to thrust. I grabbed hold of her hips and began to pump. The pressure inside me began to build up. I wanted to come desperately, but the only way to do that was to fuck Jas harder. My thrusts began to quicken and take on an urgency I had not felt before. Jas began to buck up hard against me with every thrust. I let go of her hip with one hand grabbing a handful of her long black hair in a fist and pulled back hard on it. Jas’s head was pulled back and she cried out in surprise and pain. With the other hand I gripped hard to her waist and thrust with manic passion. Suddenly I felt the damn within me burst as I came hard. I lost control of my body as it shuddered in the sweet ecstasy of release. It was only as I collapsed on Jas’s still upraised ass, my tits flat on her back, my face in her neck, that I realised that she to, was shuddering in release. I gently pulled out of her trembling quim and rolled onto the bed. Jas’s rolled over onto me, and we lay in each other’s arms.

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The End of Things Ch. 16: Submission

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Big Dick

To my surprise, there was no retribution from the Roman soldiers with whom I had dealt. Indeed, life in Alexandria seemed to move into an almost charmed state; only Hypatia’s immunity to my hints about wanting her, prevented things from being perfect.

Stumpy was delighted that the work she and her women were doing with me had enabled me to protect Bella; Bella remained very happy to reward me for my help; and life in the Mouseion suited me very well. My skill as a scribe, and, once I had mastered it, the Greek, established me as a useful member of Hypatia’s team; and, she said, the account I had given of life in Britannia was most useful.

To say the sun always shone is simply a statement of life in Alexandria, but it also reflects my memories of that blissful time.

With Kirill won over by the Shroud, I was able to go back to Lesbos with the letters of Phoebe, and to tell Mother Junia about the thawing in relations with the Patriarchate. In fact, so easy did things become, that we were able to come and go between Lesbos and Alexandria without fear.

In the autumn, just as I had finished my scribe’s training, Hypatia told me there was a visitor who had a message for me. It was, as it transpired, the first portent of a chill which would lead to a frozen winter.

Charmian showed in an older man, heavily bearded, with the bearing of a merchant.

“I was told there would be a reward if I brought this to you.”

I handed him what I thought was a suitable sum, and dismissed him.

The package simply said: “Carwen/Mouseion.”

Upon opening it I began to tear up. It was from Merlin, but contained a note from my brother Artos, telling me that our father and mother were both dead, killed by marauding Saxons in a raid. I sat and cried.

I had been his “little shrimp,” and when even my mother and brothers had despaired of ever marrying me off or my being of any use to the family, he had loved me. To know he was dead, and that, this side of Heaven, I should never see him again, hurt. Should I have gone back with Merlin? I only had to read Merlin’s letter to know the answer.

“Artos has told you the news. They came while we were fighting in the West. Garrianonum was overwhelmed. If you had been there, you, too would be dead. Artos will avenge their deaths, but things here are bad. Even with the Greek fire, their numbers may be too many for us to resist. You were right. There was nothing you could have done. When I can, I shall let you know how we are.”

That was Merlin. Succinct and to the point.

I went to the Church and lit candles in their memory. It all seemed so long ago now and do far away. All that trouble to get here, all those deaths, and to so little avail. What, I wondered, was the point?

I raised that with Hypatia at lunch when I told her the news. She was, of course, full of condolences and sympathy.

“But Carwen, life is for living, and its point is that. Get what you can from it, and contribute what you can to it.”

I smiled.

“You have an answer for everything. But here is another question. What is life without love?”

“Do you mean love, Carwen, or do you mean sex?”

“The two can be linked,” I said. I would not have sex with Bella if I did not have feelings of love toward her.”

“But can you love and there be no sex? I have not seen you take an interest in men at all. Does that mean you are entirely Sapphic?”

Of all the things I had expected a conversation like this to lead to, this was the very last one.

“Entirely. And you?” I had to ask.

“I have been with men, I have been with women, it is the spirit, not the body which matters to me.”

“So, your not taking up any of the hints I have been pushing your way for months has nothing to do with my physique?”

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I felt like withdrawing them. They were true, of course, but crudely expressed and almost pouting.

To my surprise, she smiled at me.

“It’s more, well, in part…”

Unusually for her, her words trailed away.

“You don’t like petite women?”

“It’s more that, well, what they tend to want conflicts with what I want.”

Suddenly the self-confident Hypatia seemed tongue-tied. Then a light went on, as though someone had lit a candle in my darkness. I thought I had nothing to lose, so ventured where instinct was taking me.

I looked at her.

“It has to be hard, Hypatia, all of this falling on your shoulders,” I said, gesturing around the whole complex of the Mouseion. “And even more so, given that you are, in effect, leading the effort to find a way between Kirill and Orestes, and that we are all looking to you for a lead.”

She looked at me; her eyes widened.

“There, must be,” I went on, “times when all you want is to let someone else make the decisions and Küçükyalı travesti to relax into them.”

As I said that, my eyes locked on hers. I saw a flicker. I was right. I knew it.

“So,” I said, standing and walking over to her, “petite women would simply add to that burden, wanting you to decide for them, to set the pace, the agenda.”

I put my hand under her chin and raised her face to mine, kissing her.

“So, if this petite barbarian were to tell you to take that kalasiris off and stand up in just your schenti, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

As though mesmerised, Hypatia stood and, divesting herself of her fine linen dress, stood in just the loincloth which hid her sex. Her breasts, which were pert and firm, attracted my attention; her nipples were dark red and stiff.

I smiled.

“Good girl! Now were I to tell you to put your hands behind your head open your legs wider, you’d want to do that, too, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I would!” She said, almost breathless.

I stood, breast height and untied her schenti, letting it fall to the ground. The scent coming from her was unmistakable.

I kissed her nipples, first the right one, then the left one, licking each for a few seconds, before pushing my hand between her thighs and cupping her cunt.

“In fact,” I said, huskily, “I rather think my lady enjoys being taken control of by a petite woman, so much sexier than one your own size, isn’t it?”

Gasping from her arousal, and the pressure against her entrance from my finger, she whimpered her assent.

“So, a petite barbarian from the northern isles who took control of you and made you do what she wanted would be quite a different proposition from one who wanted you to set the agenda, right?”

As I said that, I pushed my middle finger into her gooey, sticky wetness. My palm could feel her clitoris as it pressed in.

“Yess, oh yess, yess!”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Miss!”

“Good girl!”

Even as I said those words, her knees seemed to buckle as she pressed onto my finger.

“Do you have a sapphic stick in your quarters?”

“Yes, Miss, I do.”

“Are there others about between here and there?”

“I don’t know Miss.”

“Well, as you are going to walk there now, you’d better hope that there aren’t.”

Hypatia gasped, but to my delight, nodded.

“Yes Miss.”

“But first, taste yourself,” I said, putting my finger to her lips. She looked at me, I saw the lust and the pleasure in her gaze.

She nodded before opening her mouth and sucking my fingers.

I pulled them out, patted her backside and we went to her quarters. We didn’t, as it happened, encounter anyone else, but the sense that we might clearly got to her, as when he checked her cunt, she was sopping wet.

“I am going to take you now, Hypatia.”

Still in her erotic daze she nodded, and without my having to say anything, she dropped to her hands and knees as I donned the phallic stick and its harness.

“I am going to mount you now!”

I heard a throaty gasp. followed by a “Yesssss!”

I knew what she needed.

Gently, but firmly, I pressed her head down and spread her legs before mounting her.

One hand on the small of her back, I adjusted the phallus with the other and knew when it was where she wanted it by the sudden thrust back.

“Oh fuckkkkk, yes, take me, take me, hard, fuck me, yess!”

I could hear how wet she was, and I pushed in deep and hard. The more I thrust, the more she pushed back. She wanted, no, she needed to be taken, and so I took her. Gripping her hips, I adjusted the angle and pressed in and out, pushing her forward so she could press back.

She almost fell forward as she balanced on one hand, her right hand having gone to her clit which she was rubbing.

Hypatia screamed, urging me to fuck her, and to take her, bucking back wildly until the inevitable climax, which was accompanied by a roar which must have been heard outside. Her whole body went into spasm. But I remained locked into her, waiting for her to come down from her high. As soon as I felt she was, I ploughed into her again, making her groan.

Unlike a man, a woman with a sapphic stick is limited only by the strength of her legs, and for Hypatia, I was prepared to go as far as I could. It was only after her third orgasm that I pulled out, making her moan, and turned her over, plunging into her again, but this time so I could kiss her lips.

“Would that have been the sort of thing you might have wanted if the petite barbarian had been of that persuasion?” I giggled, seeing her eyes light up.

She nodded.

“That, just, wow, just, where, oh, oh, Carwen.”

And she kissed me long and deep.

I pressed into her, and we lay, connected, letting the warm afternoon sun play on Küçükyalı travestileri our sweat-drenched bodies.

She eventually stopped kissing me long enough to ask:

“What happened?”

I giggled.

“Oh, it was that memorable, was it? I shan’t bother next time.”

There was a second before she realised I was teasing when she looked horrified that she had offended me, and then she laughed.

“Memorable, it was the best fuck ever. No, what I meant was…”

“What you meant was how did I know? Or perhaps, assuming that like most petite women, I love to be told what to do, you imagined that was beyond me?”

“Both,” she said, honestly.

“I just sensed it!” I said, equally honestly. I had no further explanation, neither did I ever find one.

“If I’d known earlier,” I ventured, “I’d not have wasted so much time!”

“Maybe then we would not have had the connection we do now?”

There was a lot in what Hypatia said. By fencing round each other, uncertain but interested, we had, unconsciously been forging the link which had enabled us to do what we had just done.

I kissed her, moving my hips just enough to make her moan.

“I do like feeling you in me.”

“I noticed,” I grinned, before moving a little more, just for the pleasure of watching her reaction.

Eventually, if reluctantly, we realised that we would have to get back to whatever it was we were supposed to have been doing with what was left of the day.

Once we had dressed, Hypatia looked at me.

“I’d love more.”

“Good,” I said, “because I would, too.”

It became our secret.

The mere idea that the brilliant, powerful, and commanding Hypatia was in sexual submission to me would have been laughed out of court, even if anyone had made such a ludicrous suggestion – which, of course, made it all the more intense for her. As I got to understand her better, I realised that this was just one of the things that gave our affair the edge it did for her.

At the heart of it was her need for release, sexually and mentally. Everything in the Mouseion depended on her, she was the spider at the centre of the web, the ever-turning point of our perpetual-motion world and the cynosure of every eye. But in the bed chamber she wanted to be free to do what her lover wanted.

I could see how that could have gone wrong, and indeed, once we got close enough, she told me how it had gone badly wrong with a younger man to whom she had surrendered sexually. He had assumed that the bedchamber was the antechamber to the rest of her life instead of a place set apart from it, and had attempted to interfere with her work. That had led to a breakdown in their relations. Then there had been the man who assumed that because she was submissive in bed, that gave him license to beat her. Last, had been the man who took what was suitable for the private sphere into the public arena where he called her his “bitch.” That had ended matters.

It was, I reflected, no wonder that she had clammed up. And in truth, I could see how the men had made their mistakes. My problem, I explained to her, would be almost the opposite – which is that because I was falling in love with her, the idea of making her do things ran counter to my desire to please her. At least it had done, before I realised that what pleased her was my telling her what to do!

What made it work for us, where others had failed, was that I knew, by instinct, the rules of the game. In the bedroom, Hypatia was passive, she was mine, and she trusted my love not to take her to places of harm; I reciprocated that trust. As our games continued, so the trust grew. She knew two things: that I loved her, and that when our games were over, I would always hold her and bring her back, with love, to where she needed to be; and that what took place in the privacy of our bedchamber, stayed there.

It was a genuine privilege to explore her desires. Soon after our affair began, she asked me what I wanted, and I was able, with a smile, to say: “to please you.”

“But you could do whatever you wanted with me,” Hypatia whispered, looking almost puzzled.

“I do,” I replied. “I want to see you satisfied and happy, and that is what satisfies me.”

“You are a puzzle,” she said.

I could see why that might be for her, but also know that was what made us work. I had a suspicion that if my focus had been on my own pleasure, then our affair would have swiftly run its course. However much she felt that she wanted to be used sexually, I knew Hypatia enough to know that had she been left unsatisfied, then the bonds that bound us would have frayed. As it was, they were renewed every time by the pleasure I gave her, and the joy I got from that.

Bella was the only one who ever noticed anything.

One evening, drinking travesti Küçükyalı after dinner, she asked whether I’d noticed anything about Hypatia.

“Such as?” I asked, noncommittally.

“I could not help notice when we shared showering facilities after exercising that he backside looked as though it had been recently spanked. And having heard noises coming from your chamber this morning, wondered if that had anything to do with it?”

She looked amused.

“You mustn’t,” I began.

“I shan’t,” she continued, “but it would explain why she’s been looking like a woman who is being well fucked frequently. You, Carwen, are a dark horse.”

“Jealous?” I asked, to deflect things.

“No, you give your big-tittied Bella a good fucking too, so I have no complaints. I just wonder sometimes about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t think you are entirely dominant, are you?”

I smiled at her.

“I think, my darling, that I am a chameleon, or something else that takes the colour of her environment. With you, and with Hypatia, I take a lead because I like the pleasure it gives you.”

“But what about you?” She asked.

“I can only tell you what I told Hypatia, which is that my deepest and most abiding satisfaction is in giving you pleasure.”

Bella leaned in and kissed me full on the lips.

“You know, Carwen, you are the perfect submissive dominant, happiest when giving others pleasure because they have no choice but to let you.”

There was much, if not everything, in Bella’s formulation.

The next few months until the Liturgy of the Nativity passed peacefully. I had hoped for more news from Merlin, but there was none. Kirill remained satisfied with my help and made no further trouble for the Junian church or for the Mouseion. He had enough on his hands with the Governor’s attempts to enforce law on the church. On Lesbos, calm reigned, and Stumpy and I moved freely between there and Alexandria.

Privately, Hypatia and I explored the erotic labyrinth we had opened. It transpired that one of her very favourite things was to be my slave girl, and so we would play a scenario where I would buy her at auction.

That involved had standing naked before me while I examined “the goods.” She loved it when I ordered her to turn and bend so I could explore her “holes”. It would make her so wet when I told her to hold her “tits” out for inspection, and made comments about them as I caressed and kissed them. I would, to her delight, have her exhibit herself shamelessly.

After taking her hard, as she needed, I would then make love to her and bring her back to an equilibrium.

Others noticed a change in her mood. She was certainly less tense and less likely to lose her temper, and she also slept better, at least those nights when we were not playing together. Across the months we worked out ways in which Hypatia could get the release she needed, and the love she wanted. Even Stumpy, not the most perceptive of observers, commented to me:

“Do you suppose our Hostess is getting laid? She seems less skittish. It’s usually a sign you know!”

I feigned ignorance, to Bella’s delight. But it was Hypatia’s secret, and important that it was kept. I was delighted, however, to see how much happier she became.

One of the things I missed about Britannia were the seasons. Egypt appeared to have only two – a cooler period between Advent and Easter, and then a hot period the rest of the time. Even the winter was not what anyone from the northern climes would have called cold. One got used to it, but it also tended to induce a kind of complacency, even a lassitude, so when, as happened from time to time, the Nile flooded, everyone seemed to be taken by surprise.

Indirectly, it was such a flood which marked the first stage of a tidal wave that would engulf us – and my happiness.

After Easter there was a flood. The Roman authorities dealt with the consequences, but one of Kirill’s “monks”, a hermit called Peter, started to proclaim that this was a sign of the wrath of God. When a fire broke out in the poorest districts of the city, Peter was loud in claiming it as another sign of Divine displeasure.

As far as I could work out, Kirill’s more extreme supporters were getting impatient with his refusal to press the Governor over the boundaries between God and Mammon. Always sensitive to such claims, Kirill began to harden his line, and when, as was inevitable, Peter was arrested by the authorities, Kirill denounced the Governor, Orestes, and tensions began to mount.

In the middle of that, Peter, after his release, began to use the square outside the Mouseion to preach his message of repentance. This brought some pretty undesirable “monks” into uncomfortably close contact with us, and began to focus Peter’s attention on us.

Such “pagans” were, he claimed, an affront to God and needed to be dealt with.

What needed to be dealt with was Peter, but as the heat of the summer increased, it became ever clearer that was not going to happen. By July, it began to feel as though we were just waiting for something to happen. Then it did.

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Diary of a Lesbian Love Slave Pt. 15

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Amateur

1.

When my Mistress finally appeared after what seemed like hours, but may have only been a few minutes, my heart pounded as Her footsteps approached. It wasn’t that I feared the punishment — I wanted to atone for what I had done. What worried me was that I might not be able to.

As she approached me I still couldn’t look at Her. Finally she lifted my chin with Her hand and I had no choice but to stare into those steely, probing eyes. “I want you to think about what you’ve done,” she said. “Jealousy is one thing. It’s not attractive, but it’s unavoidable sometimes. But to throw a temper tantrum….” she shook Her head sadly. “Like some toddler….”

I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry” didn’t seem like enough now. I felt like something was expected of me, but I didn’t know what it was.

Walking around behind the platform, my Mistress picked up a metal restraint that was attached to the wall by a long chain. Extending the chain as she went, she came over to where I was sitting and clicked the restraint onto my right ankle. Then she turned onto her heel and was gone without a word.

2.

There is no day or night in the dungeon, no windows to look out of; I quickly lost all sense of time.

The worst of it was Küçükyalı travesti imagining what Sukhi and my Mistress were doing upstairs without me. It was only later that I learned that my Mistress had sent Sukhi home shortly after chaining me up — my little outburst had ruined the mood for her.

As time passed I cycled through anxiety, boredom, despair, and hope. I mentally reviewed pretty much every decision I’ve made in my life and found many of them wanting. Finally I decided that I was not going to be released anytime soon and might as well settle in for the night.

There’s a little half-bathroom down here and fortunately the chain is long enough to let me get to it. I found a blanket in there that I draped over myself as I lay on the platform trying to sleep. For a long time I thought I was going to be awake forever, but I must have drifted off at some point, because when I got up to pee I found a bowl on the floor with some scraps of meat in it.

If my Mistress had been there I gladly would have gotten down on my hands and knees and eaten like a dog — it was no less than I deserved, I knew. But instead I picked up the bowl and gorged myself like a ravenous beast, suddenly realizing that I Küçükyalı travestileri was starving.

By that time all my emotions had quieted down into a kind of resignation. Sooner or later, I knew, I would be released from this limbo and learn my fate — and maybe I would be a better person for it.

3.

Finally I heard the door open and footsteps on the stairs. Two sets of footsteps, my Mistress followed by Sukhi, whose eyes were wide as she beheld the dungeon for the first time.

I had been laying face-down on the platform in a kind of twilight consciousness. Next thing I knew my wrists were being clicked into the built-in restraints. I closed my eyes, relieved that whatever was going to happen was finally happening. Anything I might have to endure would be better than this endless waiting.

Then I heard Sukhi’s voice, sounding shaky and hesitant. “I don’t know,” she said. I opened my eyes and craned my neck to get a look at her. She was holding a black leather strap, a skeptical look on her face. This was all new to her, I realized. I smiled wanly; her innocence was kind of sweet.

“She wants you to,” my Mistress said. “Don’t you, Sam?”

“Yes, I want it,” I found myself saying, travesti Küçükyalı and I meant it. “I need it.”

“Well….” said Sukhi, and I could see it dawn on her: This might be fun. A few seconds later I felt the sting of the leather on my rear end.

Sukhi was tentative at first, but after a while she started to get into it. The strap bit into my thighs, my butt, my back; somehow it was all the more painful for being clumsy, and all the more humiliating to be punished by someone my own age. For my Mistress to discipline me felt entirely natural; this was different.

It seemed to go on and on. When it was finally over I had tears in my eyes, which my Mistress cleaned away without comment as she unshackled me. She stood me up and gave me a few seconds to shake out my limbs; then she pushed me down onto my knees and clipped a leash into my collar. She turned and headed for the stairs; I followed on hands and knees, with Sukhi trailing along behind.

What followed was quite possibly the best sex I’ve ever had. Intense, passionate, tender, nasty… spiritual even. As I write this, a day later, I’m still tingling. And when it was over and Sukhi had gone home, my Mistress sat me down and told me that she loved me and that I never needed to worry. Sukhi is a fun plaything, she said, but I’m the girl for Her.

I don’t think I’ve ever cried the way I did after that. Tears of joy, fountains of them, till my whole face was wet. For a while my Mistress held me close and wiped my eyes; then she just gave up and let the drops flow.

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Legally Binding, Ch. 2

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Babes

I wasn’t all that surprised when the next day 4:45 came and went without a word from Nadine. In fact, I’d anticipated that possibility: I knew that during our lunchtime encounter she had been taken very far very quickly, and that afterwards her first reaction might be denial. Which is why I was now standing in the parking lot outside her office building. I let a few extra minutes go by then entered.

It was only a five-story building, not far from the restaurant where we’d eaten the day before, and already mostly deserted this late on a Friday afternoon. I checked the directory on the wall for her office number. As I climbed the stairs to the third floor a few people in business attire hurried past me in the opposite direction, eager to get their weekends started, but all was silence when I reached her floor…

Except for a raised and somewhat strident voice coming from behind her office door. I listened for a moment to make sure she was talking on the phone, then turned the doorknob and entered.

It was a smallish office, almost severe in its orderliness and its lack of plants or decoration. One major compensation was the large picture window looking out over the town square with its tiny park and old-fashioned white gazebo/bandstand in the center. The blinds were half-lowered to soften the glare of the late-afternoon sunshine, giving the office a somewhat twilit feel.

Nadine’s desk was at right angles to the door, facing the window, and she was at that moment sitting with her back to me, looking at the computer to her right as she continued her diatribe: “…and you tell that lazy bastard that if I don’t have all the paperwork in front of me by noon on Monday he can forget about the closing until next month.” She tapped a few keys on her computer. “That’s right, I still need the inspection report, the appraisal, the…”

I closed the door behind me just a little more loudly than absolutely necessary. She turned to see who it was and her voice suddenly dried up for a moment. I waited to see how she would react. Her expression was frozen. But then she apparently decided to continue pretending that nothing had happened, giving me a fake-friendly smile and holding up one finger to indicate she would be right with me, before turning back to her computer and continuing her phone conversation.

Which was fine with me. Her reaction had confirmed my guess and the way she was dressed only emphasized it. Today she looked as though she was running for congress as a Republican: hyper-conservative navy blue suit in a heavy, uncomfortable looking fabric, with the skirt coming down to cover her knees; severe, plain white blouse, buttoned up to the neck; hair clipped into a bun at the back of her head and glasses settled firmly on her nose.

I made my way over and sat in one of the client chairs facing her desk, and was amused to see Nadine notice me out of the corner of her eye, shift the phone receiver to the shoulder closest to me and turn even further away towards her computer. Which is why she didn’t see the plastic shopping bag I’d placed on the floor beside me…or what I took out of it and what I was doing.

She had no idea that anything was amiss until I stood, leaned over her desk, took the phone receiver from her shoulder and placed it back in its cradle. She turned to me, startled, then angry: “Hey, I wasn’t fin-”

Which was when I seized her wrists and jerked her out of her chair, pulling her sprawling across her desk and sending papers flying everywhere. She was so shocked that she barely managed an “Oh!” before the edge of her desk knocked the wind out of her. But she was still quite conscious of the fact that I was slipping loops of rope over her wrists and tightening them, and she was able to see that the other ends of the rope were knotted around the front legs of her desk. Her head was hanging over the edge, her arms spread wide and her fingertips a few inches from the rug.

If she’d been thinking fast she might have been able to crawl over the desk and get herself loose somehow but between her shock and her inability to breathe, the moment quickly kartal travesti passed. She did manage to raise her head slightly and gasp, “Wh… Wha…?”

I seized the clipped bun of her hair and pulled her head up to where she could see my face. She hissed with the pain and her eyes were terrified. Her glasses had nearly fallen off her nose, so with my free hand I gently pushed them back up and settled them in place. Then I placed my hand on the side of her face and slowly stroked her cheekbone with the edge of my thumb until she settled down a little.

And when I spoke to her it was in a quiet, conversational tone: “Nadine, you’ve been thoughtless and you’ve been rude. I would expect a lawyer to know the importance of honoring an agreement.” I was still holding her head up by her hair, and the pain was causing tears to run down her face. I continued stroking her cheekbone. “Now…what were you supposed to do at 4:45 today?”

She was beginning to get her breath back, though the pain was still making her gasp. Her eyes looked up at mine for a moment, then down at the floor. “C-call…” she finally managed. I gave her head a tiny shake to make her look up at me. “That’s right, “ I said soothingly, you were supposed to call the number I gave you. And you didn’t do that, did you, Nadine?”

“N…no,” she whispered. “I’m ss-sorry.” She managed to hold my gaze – knowing that if she looked away I would only shake her again – as I went on, “And what were you supposed to say when you called?”

At first she shook her head slightly, as if reluctant to recall what she’d agreed to, but finally, through dry lips, gasped, “…Pa…pan…ties…”

I let out a theatrical sigh, then gave her head a vigorous shake to allow my displeasure to fully register before demanding again, “What – exactly – were you supposed to say, Nadine?”

Her face went completely blank as she stared up at me. Then, still trying to catch her breath, was just barely able to whisper, “May…may…I… (gasp) …pleeease have…my panties…back?”

“I can’t hear you, Nadine.” I gave her head another little shake.

Sweat was already running down her face. She took another, deeper breath and opened her mouth: “May I…”

“Yes, you may,” I interrupted, using my free hand to take her blue silk panties from my pocket and stuff them into her mouth. Nadine let out a well-muffled shriek, then quickly realized that she would have to devote all her energy to breathing through her nose if she didn’t want to pass out.

While she was thus distracted I let her head down and released it. Then I took two more short lengths of rope from the bag and went behind her desk, shoving her chair out of the way. She shrieked again when I crouched down and jerked her left foot to one side, deftly removing her low-heeled shoe before tying her ankle to the rear leg of the desk on that side – then shrieked even more loudly when I did the same with the other foot, forcing her legs apart almost as far as they would go and her skirt to ride up her thighs. She was now completely spread-eagled, face-down on her desk.

I rose to my feet again and spoke to her from behind the desk. “Oh, Nadine – you are such a disappointment. I told you to call and ask for your panties back, and you agreed to do so…and you failed. Do you happen to remember my other instructions to you, Nadine?”

A rhetorical question, obviously, since she had no means of answering, though she did shriek again when I reached down with both hands and jerked her skirt up over her hips, exposing pantyhose heavy enough to repel artillery, and beneath them what were very nearly granny-panties: plain, white cotton briefs that came nearly up to her navel. She’d had a very bad reaction indeed to the previous day’s events, apparently.

I took a ballpoint pen from her desk and clicked it open. “I told you not to wear pantyhose, Nadine.” I pulled out the elastic waistband on her hose then used the pen to tear a long jagged rip in the seat. Throwing the pen down, I seized the rip in both hands and tore it open, then tore each side again and then again, working kartal travestileri my way around until there was nothing but the waistband above her hips and tatters of hose hanging down around her knees.

She had shrieked again when she heard the first rip but had finally subsided into occasional whimpers. But that didn’t last long, as I began swatting her behind – hard, and then harder – with my open palms, one then the other, to emphasize my next words: “…AND (Slap!)…I (Slap!)…TOLD (Slap!)…YOU (Slap!)…NOT (Slap!)…TO (Slap!)…WEAR (Slap!)…ANY (Slap!)…PANTIES!” (SLAP!)

Nadine grunted and moaned piteously with every slap. When I reached the end of my sentence there was silence except for the sound of her sniffling and trying to breathe through her nose. I waited until I thought she was sure I was done, then gave her one last swat, harder than all the others, that jerked her head up and sent her glasses flying across the room:

“DIDN’T I?” (SLAP!)

She was unable to answer, of course, but she tried, nodding her head vigorously up and down as she sobbed and tried to speak. I heard something that sounded vaguely like, “I’m really, really sorry!”

I did not tear her panties off as I had her pantyhose. I left them just as they were – for the moment. Instead, I walked around to the front of the desk, pulled one of the client chairs over and sat in front of Nadine. Her head was hanging down and her hair was now partially disarrayed, though the clip still held some of it in place. She was still crying and sniffling as she tried to breathe through her nose. There were a few dark spots on the rug where her tears – and possibly her snot – had fallen, and her glasses were a few feet beyond that.

Her purse was on the small table beside her desk, leaning against her computer monitor. I stood again long enough to reach over and grab it, then bent down to retrieve her glasses before sitting again. I rummaged through her purse and found some tissues, then put it on the floor beside my chair.

“Oh…look at you,” I said sympathetically, reaching out to cup her chin in one hand and lift her head so she could look at me. “It must be very hard to breathe like that. Here…”

And with my free hand I plucked the blue silk panties from her mouth and draped them on my lap. She took a huge gulp of air through her mouth, and then another, while I smoothed her hair behind her ears and used a tissue to clean her face, finishing up by holding another tissue to her nose, pinching it slightly, and telling her to blow, which she did, noisily.

When I took the tissue away and tossed it in the wastebasket, then carefully replaced her glasses on her nose, she continued to stare at me, half-wonderingly, half-fearfully, as if she couldn’t believe that the same man who had done all these horrifying things to her was the same one who was now treating her so tenderly. I returned her gaze with one of friendly affection and said softly, “Do you understand what’s happening, Nadine? Do you know why you’re tied to your desk like this? Why I had to stuff these panties in your mouth and give you such a terrible spanking?”

She was calmer by then, though still somewhat in shock, and after a moment she tried to nod – before realizing that in her current position, with her chin resting in my hand, it wasn’t really possible. She did manage to speak, though she had to do so through her teeth, more or less: “B-czz I din’t…do what you shaid.” Her eyes sought mine, desperately hoping that she’d given the right answer.

I smiled and gave her an encouraging nod. “That’s part of it, of course, though I understand that what happened yesterday was too much for you emotionally, and that’s why you ignored my instructions, and why…” I raised one eyebrow. “…you’re dressed like an ex-nun today.”

At this she blushed a deep red, and actually managed to give me a sheepish little grin. I smiled back and continued, “But that’s not the main reason this is happening, Nadine.” Her look became anxious as I went on. “The real reason this is happening is because…” I leaned forward then, travesti kartal and kissed her, a long and tender kiss. Then I drew back just enough to look into her eyes and finished, “…it’s what you want. And you know it, Nadine.”

Her eyes went wide and she tried to speak but I placed my fingertips on her lips. “You need time to think things over. So I’m going out for a while.” I tapped her mouth with my fingers. “Open.”

I released her jaw and without hesitation she allowed her mouth to fall open. And she didn’t seem all that surprised when I stuffed her blue panties back in. She looked at me for a long moment, but finally couldn’t continue holding her head up without my support and slowly let it fall.

I rummaged through her purse until I found her cellphone, then opened it and brought up the camera function. I looked at Nadine on the screen, but the pose wasn’t quite right. I got up and went behind her desk again. On the wall behind where she normally sat were several shelves of books, most having to do with real-estate law. I took down two of the very largest and thickest and stacked them on the desk next to Nadine. Then I wormed my hand and arm beneath her stomach and lifted her up just high enough – as Nadine grunted in surprise – to shove the two books sideways under her stomach and hips before releasing her and stepping back.

As I had guessed, Nadine would now have to either rest her weight on the books – which couldn’t be comfortable for long – or else stand on her toes to relieve the pressure, which would also become tiring very quickly. She would have to alternate. More importantly, her ass was now nicely raised in the air. I slipped my fingers under the elastic of her cotton panties at the leg-holes and drew the fabric up tightly between her cheeks, leaving the spanking-reddened skin exposed. Much better.

Nadine was trying to speak, undoubtedly wanting to know what I was doing, but I ignored her, even as I went around to the front again to quickly check in the camera that Nadine’s pose was now correct, which it was. Then I went back behind the desk, taking something from my pocket as I went.

I slid my free hand between her legs, slowly, cupped her pussy through her panties, and gave her a little squeeze. Nadine squirmed in my hand and moaned. “Your panties are very, very moist, Nadine,” I said softly. “I wonder why that is?” Nadine moaned again and mumbled through her gag.

I removed my hand and hooked one finger through the elastic at the crotch of her panties, pulling it up just long enough to slide in the item from my pocket, which was small enough and of the proper shape to slide partway into her pussy when I released my hold on her panties.

Now everything was ready. I returned to my seat in front of Nadine, picked up her phone and got the camera focused on her.

Then I punched in the numbers to call my own phone, which was set to ‘Vibrate’ – and currently residing in the crotch of Nadine’s panties.

Nadine had again let her head hang down, but when the phone went off her entire body jerked and her head snapped up as she gasped. My timing was excellent and I got exactly the picture I was hoping for: Nadine, her expression a shocked mixture of pleasure and dismay, eyes wide and staring into the camera, her glasses askew and half-way down her nose, hair falling untidily around her face, blue silk panties spilling out of her mouth. And rising like distant hills in the background, slightly out of focus, her well-spanked ass. Perfect.

I let it ring a few more times just to enjoy watching her writhe, then disconnected. Nadine collapsed in relief. I dug her keys out of her purse, then leaned down, straightened her glasses again and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a while,” I said. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

I walked over to the window and with one jerk raised the blinds nearly all the way to the top. Nadine tried to cry out and shook her head violently from side to side, though she must have known she was on the top floor of the tallest building on the square, so there was little danger of her being seen. I smiled at her efforts, then said, “Just so you can watch for me.”

I blew her another kiss and walked out, closing the door behind me and checking to make sure it had locked.

I was hungry. Time for dinner.

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On a Long and Lonesome Highway

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Cumshots

Here is my attempt at a slow burn lesbian romance. I will not be doing a sequel to this. No sex until towards the end. I did mention that it was a slow burn. Feel free to do any spin-offs you wish but reference this story in the introduction or somewhere else if you do. It should be obvious where my inspiration came from. Just look up the song. Turn the Page. No, not the whole song, just the first stanza.

Long and Lonesome Highway:

On a long and lonesome highway, East of Omaha, you can listen to the engine moanin’ out his one note song. Actually, dudes, I’m nowhere near Omaha. I’m actually somewhere in Arizona. As usual, I’m in the sleeper compartment of my rig, getting ready to sack out for the night. It was a pretty good day today. I put over 700 miles in my mirror. I made good time and didn’t encounter any idiots on the road today. I should make my destination by noon tomorrow, then I’ve got another load to pick up and head back East. Who knows, maybe I will actually go to Omaha this time. Anywhere but — THERE! Sorry, I shouldn’t be thinking of that. It begins to bring the darkness back to me.

I’ve been getting better, though. I haven’t thought about THERE in a while. I think that what brought it back to me was at the truck stop I’m parked in for the night. It was kind of late when I pulled in, so I figured I’d get some dinner before crashing out. There was a new waitress tonight. I’ve been here several times before, but this was the first time I have seen her. She was pretty, gorgeous even. Long blonde hair, sparkling light blue eyes. A figure with so many hairpin curves that it would be a slow drive to check them all out. Very friendly too. She was even flirting with me. Yeah, not going there. She was probably just doing it to increase her tips. She’s probably just like all the other ones. She even reminded me of — HER. I think that’s what is bringing the darkness back again.

It probably wasn’t hard for her to suspect that I’m gay. I don’t really hide it. No point really. Not that I’ve done anything about it for the last 10-years. I tried a couple times, but every time I just saw — HER. Laughing. Taunting. Yes, I’ve told you guys all about that before. Several times. I won’t repeat it tonight. I watched as she was flirting with all the other truckers in the diner as well. She was just like all the rest. Flirting gets better tips. She didn’t care about me. No one cares about me.

Thought about maybe going into the bar next door. There’s a problem with bars, though. Bars have people in them. A diner is OK. I get my own both and I am left alone. Usually. Bastards wouldn’t even let me back in after I paid for the window I throw that asshole out of. Fuck it. They had lousy food anyway. Bars are different. Assholes see an attractive woman drinking alone and automatically think she needs some company. If I did, it wouldn’t be them.

That’s all for tonight. Catch ya tomorrow — probably.

Lonesome signing off.

I clicked to post it to my blog, then shut down my laptop. I have no idea if anyone actually reads it. I really don’t care, that’s not the point of it. I write it because a therapist I saw a couple of times suggested that maybe writing my thoughts down would help. Who knows. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. It’s just something that I do. Maybe there’s someone out there that reads it and feels better knowing that their life isn’t nearly as shitty as mine is. Regulations state that I need to be off for 10 hours before driving again. I should probably get some sleep. I got out of the truck to smoke my last cigarette of the day. Once that was done, it was time to rack out.

Tasha:

God, what a long day it was. Waiting tables in the diner of that miserable truck stop. Pretending to be friendly and flirting with all the customers there, just to get better tips from them. Sure, there were a lot of nice guys there, but there were a significant portion of complete assholes. Over the last month that I had been working there, I had learned very quickly how to move to avoid the roaming hands that targeted my ass. Perverts. God, I hated that. On the upside, at least my abusive former boyfriends would never find me here. There was one nice thing today. A trucker that I had never seen before came in. She was fucking gorgeous. Long red hair, lithe body, beautiful face, moved like a panther stalking her prey. OK, so the boyfriend was a mistake on multiple levels. Not only was he an abusive cheating asshole, but even going out with him in the beginning had been a bad idea. It was mainly to convince myself that I wasn’t really a lesbian. I found out that I actually am, thus the two days in the hospital when I tried to break up with him. I left town two days before he was released from the county jail.

Anyway, back to the woman. I stopped dead in my tracks the instant she walked in. I don’t know what it was about her, but she just caught my full attention. I prayed, and God actually answered my prayers as she sat in my section. It wasn’t until I got to kartal travesti her table to hand her a menu that I saw it. She looked up at me, and I saw a deep sorrowness in her deep green eyes. She did smile at me, and she responded to my flirting, be there was no real depth to it. It was as if she was just trying to humor me. In reality, she would have been the only one that I would have meant it with. If she would have offered, I would have beaten her back to the cab of her truck, or taken her to the trailer I was renting behind the Truckstop. Fuck it, I would have drug her to one of the rooms in the attached motel.

Oh well. Such is life. I’ll probably never see her again. With resignation, I opened my computer and went online. I pulled up one of my favorite sites. It was a blog I had stumbled onto a few months ago. I was surprised that there were over 1,000 followers to it. I don’t know what it was, but it captured my imagination. There was never anything that could remotely identify the writer. There were a few photos of highway scenery, and you could see the Kenworth logo on the front of the truck, but not a single picture of the rest of the truck or her. Yes, it was definitely a her that wrote it. Either that, or a guy with a fantastic imagination.

Awesome! A new post. I began not read. She started it out with the same line as every other post. ‘On a lonely lonesome highway…..’ As I read the post, two things struck me. First, she mentioned that she had never seen the waitress before. I can assure you that I had never before seen the red-haired, green-eyed goddess that came in today before either. That makes me pretty sure that she had never seen me before either. I definitely would have remembered that. The second thing was that she mentioned being in Arizona. No, that would just be way too much of a coincidence. I was impossible. There were millions of miles of roads in this country. Thousands of miles just here in Arizona. True, women are only a small percentage of truck drivers, especially solo drivers, but there are still thousands of them out there. The odds of my redheaded beauty being the same Lonesome that had captured my fantasies with her words were just too astronomical to comprehend. Still, one can imagine, can’t they? My vibrator sure agreed with me that night.

Lonesome:

On a long and lonesome highway, East of Omaha, you can listen to the engine moanin’ out his one note song. Hi again. Another day on the road. Nope. Still not anywhere near Omaha. I’m on a lonely highway in Nevada. I passed a few brothels on the way. Had a fleeting thought of stopping and seeing if any of them did women, but I just kept driving. I can’t do one-night stands. Then again, I can’t seem to do relationships either. Relationships mean pain. They cut out your heart and soul.

I thought about that waitress again today. It’s been a month since I’ve been to that Truckstop. I wonder if she’s still there. Maybe I’ll take that rout on my way to drop this load. It’s not really that far out of my way. Probably better if I just avoid that place all together. Nothing good could come from that. Just another broken piece of me left behind. I don’t have that many pieces left to lose. I don’t know. Something seems to be pulling me back there. I can’t seem to get her out of my mind.

Anyway, this was a short one tonight. Time to rack out. Need to be on the road early tomorrow.

Lonesome

As it is every night, I had one more cigarette and climbed into my bunk. For some reason, that cute little blonde at the diner simply wouldn’t leave my mind.

Tasha:

It’s been three months since I saw her. I still can’t get her out of my mind. I asked a couple of the people I work with if they knew anything about her. Marge, the senior waitress here warned me off of her. Marge is in her 50s and has been here forever. “Leave that one alone. I don’t know what happened to her, but she is damaged goods. You don’t want anything to do with her.”

Well, that didn’t help anything. No one even knew her name. She never used a card, always paying in cash. Her fuel purchases were done through a corporate card that didn’t even have her name on it. I was trying to forget about her, but I just couldn’t. I know it was stupid of me. Seriously, I worked in a Truckstop out in the middle of nowhere. The odds were that I would most likely never see her again. Hell, I wasn’t even sure how much longer I was going to be here. The longer I stayed, the better the chances that Andy would find me. I had heard from of few of my friends that I still had contact with that he was still looking for me, and he was PISSED that I left.

Anyway, enough obsessing over a woman I had seen exactly once in my life. Time to start obsessing over the woman who had stolen my soul with her words. I smiled as I opened the door to the trailer I was staying in and looked forward to a new post from Lonesome.

Lonesome:

On a long and lonesome highway, East of Omaha, you can listen to the engine moanin’ out his kartal travestileri one note song. Sorry for not posting yesterday. Had some trouble and needed to get the fuck out of Dodge. Instead of finishing my dinner and racking out in the sleeper, I scrambled out of the diner, fired up my rig and drove across two states to put some distance between myself and the catastrophe. Not sure how badly hurt those three guys were, but I wasn’t gonna take any chances. Yes, they deserved it, but you can never tell what the legal system will do. Fuckers. Yeah, my military training came in handy yesterday. Not that they will ever see this, but a shout-out of thanks to the five drivers that pulled out of the stop with me to help mask my escape. Thanks, dudes. No idea if it actually helped, but better safe than sorry. Anyway, that’s another stop I can never go back to. Need to avoid the whole area from now on. Shit, I really liked that Truckstop too.

That’s it for now. Been running for over 20-hours. Time to hit the bunk. I’m gonna have to do some creative writing in my logbook tomorrow.

Lonesome

After posting, I climbed out of my rig for my last cigarette of the night. I was still pissed at what happened. I would say that I don’t know why I did it, but that would be a lie. I know exactly why I beat the fuck out of those three guys. I’ve never liked bullies to begin with. True, I’ve gotten pretty damned good at minding my own business and not getting involved, but I just couldn’t walk away from this one. They were hassling that cute waitress. They were trying to force her to leave with them. It sounded like one of them was an old boyfriend coming to take her back with him. She obviously didn’t want to go. He had two goons with him for backup. Fuckers were big, but they had exactly zero training in combat. I had been an MP for 4-years in the worst hellhole on the planet. I took every training class on hand-to-hand combat that I could. OK, I could have simply just put them down and left it at that, but I got pissed. The rage that was usually set to low simmer blew up into a full rolling boil. Most people would probably be OK with a simple defense of another person. DA’s tend to frown on it when you go far beyond simply defending someone. Applying a calculated painful and damaging beating to someone that you have already incapacitated is something that the legal system frowns on.

Oh, about those five guys that gave me the distraction. After seeing the destruction I had rained down on those three assholes, I figured I had best get as much distance between myself and any cops that were going to be arriving soon. I figured that someone had called 911. As I left the diner, I saw five other guys following me out. My first thought was that they were either more friends of theirs, or that they were going to try and detain me until the cops showed up. When I I got to the edge of the parking lot, I spun around to face them. I probably wasn’t going to beat all five of them, but I would make damned sure that they paid dearly for whatever they tried to do.

“Easy there.” The one in the lead said, holding his hands up in front of himself. “We just figured that six rigs leaving at the same time would make it harder for anyone to identify a single truck than that single truck leaving alone. We get out of sight of this place, then you can turn off and head wherever you need to go. Them boys deserved what they got. We just want to help you out a bit.”

Well, that kind of surprised me, but I would take the assist from them. I nodded my thanks and turned to my rig. I was the fourth truck in the line leaving the stop heading West. 10-miles down the road, I gave two blasts of my horn, waved my gratitude and took the exit. I drove to the next highway heading East and put the hammer down. Let them look West. I was heading in the other direction. Just another lone truck on the lonely lonesome highway.

Oh well, I sighed as I stubbed out the butt of my cigarette with the toe of my boot. She was straight anyway. Not like there was ever a chance in hell of anything happening anyway. Just another fantasy for a lonely wanderer destined to roam alone. I climbed back into my steel shell and got ready for another night of peaceful oblivion.

Tasha:

It’s been one hell of a couple days. To start with, the beautiful redhaired trucker was back. I was happy to see her, but I still haven’t gotten her name. She only said that ‘Hon’ would do. That’s what I called her the first time I saw her. I had come up to her table and said, “What can I get for ya, Hon?” Hon is short for Honey. It’s my standard greeting for customers when I don’t know their name. She ordered a staple of Truck stops across the country — Chicken Fried Steak. She had commented that ours was the best she had ever had. Unfortunately, the day went completely to shit moments later.

I had just set her order down. I was checking on one of my other tables, when I heard the voice that I hoped to never hear again.

“Hello, Tash. travesti kartal You were hard to find. I’ve come to take you home again.”

I spun around in dread. There he was. Andy. All 6’1″, 195-pounds of lean muscle. Worse yet, Greg and Henry, his two muscle-bound neanderthal friends were standing behind him.

“Andy. I broke up with you after you put me in the hospital. I’m not going anywhere with you. We’re finished!” I replied back.

“Nonsense. You are coming home with me. Sluts don’t break up with me, I break up with them. Now, you can come easy, or I’m gonna drag your ass out of here. Also, I told Greg and Henry that you would be thanking them properly for taking the time to help you get back home. They’ve been anticipating that all the way here.”

Oh fuck. I was in trouble. I glanced around. It was a really slow evening. Other than the redhead, there were a half dozen other truckers, but they were out of shape and would be no match against these three. There was also a family at one of the far booths. No help there. I’m sure Marge would call 911, but it would take too long for the police to get here unless I was lucky enough for a sheriff or highway patrol to be close already. I was not feeling particularly luck at the moment.

“Hey Dickless. She said she doesn’t want anything to do with you, so why don’t you and the two brainless meatheads with you just ooze back under whatever rock slime like you comes from.”

I couldn’t believe it. The redheaded trucker had stood up and threw the gauntlet down at their feet. She was a bit tall at 5’8″ and lean. She always wore jeans and loose shirts, so I had no idea if she was muscular, but she didn’t seem fat. She also moved with the grace of a panther stalking prey. It didn’t matter; she had no chance against even one of these guys, and I knew them well enough to know that they wouldn’t even give her that chance.

All three of them laughed. “Well, this is an added bonus. Greg, Henry, why don’t you tow invite her to come along as well. After all, it’s a long trip back, and two sluts will be more entertaining than one.”

She was standing about 10-feet away. After Adam finished talking, I saw an evil smirk cross her face. She was about to get manhandled, kidnapped and raped by those two Neanderthals, and she was actually excited about it. How sick could she be? After Greg and Henry had taken their second step towards her, she moved. It wasn’t the move I expected. She should have turned and ran. Instead, she moved towards us. I saw her first movement, then the acceleration. Do you remember those old Loony Toons cartoons? The ones with the Tasmanian Devil? Whenever he moves, it’s in a whirlwind. Yeah, that’s what I was reminded of. She was so fast, that it was over almost before it started. In seconds, those two goons were on the floor, barely conscious. Then, she turned back to Andy.

“You and your two butt-buddies need a lesson in respecting women. This won’t be an easy lesson for you three, but, in the end, you will either have learned to respect women, or you will be so terrified of them that you turn to fucking guys.”

With that, she moved in. It was horrifying to watch. She was methodical and absolutely brutal. Andy tried his best, but he never landed a single blow. She knew exactly what she was doing and made it as painful as possible. When she was done, all three of them were curled up on the floor, moaning in agony.

She turned and walked back to her table. With a heavy sigh, she took one mouthful of her food, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, dropped it on the table and walked towards the door. The last thing I heard before she got to the door was her sad voice saying, “Damn. Really going to miss the food here.”

As she left, I saw five other truckers follow her out. Through the door, it looked like another confrontation was about to take place, but then they all turned and walked to their trucks.

“Jimmy!” Marge called out. “We still have that old broken video recorder for the security cameras laying around?”

“Yeah. I was about to toss it out but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” He replied.

“Good. Take the new recorder out and hide it somewhere. Put the broken one back in its place. Hurry it up, we don’t have much time.” She ordered.

Marge then turned to everyone else. “Now, I know what y’all THINK ya might have seen. The thing is, that wasn’t what really happened. What REALLY happened, is that these three assholes came in here and insulted a woman that was with a group of bikers that were getting ready to leave. The bikers took exception to that, and six of those big bikers bear the ever-lovin’-shit out of these three lowlifes. They were all men that beat them. When they got done beatin’ these three, they went out, got on their Harleys and rode off. Now, did that clear up everything?”

Everyone nodded their acceptance. There was just one question. “What about them? Won’t they tell the cops something different than what we say?” One person asked.

“You think these guys want everyone knowing they got their asses handed to them by some skinny girl? Besides, I plan on having it explained to them that if they don’t go along with our story, the next beating they get will actually be by a dozen or more bikers, and it won’t be nearly as painless.” Marge explained.

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Sexual Shenanigans of Boris Johnson’s Cabinet: Matt Hancock

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Cuckold Captions

My wife Gina Coladangelo was a beautiful, tall, 43 yr old blonde who had an insatiable appetite for sex. So what’s the problem say? Even though I still had the hots for her after 11 years of marriage; I couldn’t keep her satisfied.

I, Oliver Tress, considered myself to be a good lover and she agreed. Nevertheless; she had had numerous affairs and she had left me several times for other guys. She eventually would grow tired of them or the other way around and she would return to me begging for forgiveness and I would always take her back.

Why did I take her back? Because in bed; she could bat your balls right out of the park. You know what I mean. Gina loved to drink and party. It didn’t take much booze to really get her in the mood to fuck and she could be an amazing lover.

Gina was a Marketing & Comms Director at my company, Oliver Bonas and I knew her latest lover was Matt Hancock, the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. So I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t come home after work one day and still hadn’t shown up when I went to bed that evening around eleven.

I was startled out of sound sleep about 6:40 the next morning by the sound of the phone ringing. Answering it; a friend who was a deputy with the Met Police suggested I come to the old sawmill. He indicated it concerned my wife.

I arrived at the old sawmill as quickly as I could and saw a small crowd of law enforcement and medical personnel gathered around an old white Jaguar parked beside one of the broken down buildings.

The deputy who had called me ran over to try and stop me from coming close to the scene. I told him; “I’ve got to see her no matter what!” So finally he stepped aside.

I walked up closer to the car until I could see inside. Gina’s body, nude except for her sheer stockings and red heels, was lying against some pillows in the big back seat of the Jaguar. Her long shapely legs were splayed wide apart so that her cum-soaked pussy was in full view.

Her naked lover, who I recognized as Matt, was lying beside her with his face on her left breast and his left hand on her right breast. I turned away from the scene and was assisted to a nearby police car to sit down. I felt weak but I also felt angry and hurt that my wife had met her end this way for the entire world to see; finally announcing to everyone that I was nothing more than a cuckold.

I was consoled by the people at the scene and a few minutes after the coroner had arrived and had done his preliminary exam; he came over and told me what he suspected had happened. It was a cold night and my wife’s lover had probably left the car running so they could keep warm.

The car was still running when it was discovered by a couple of teenagers going deer hunting. When they opened it to stop the engine and check on the occupants; one of them became light headed. Based on that the coroner said he suspected carbon monoxide poisoning from a leak in the exhaust system. He would know for sure after further investigation.

After the bodies were removed from the car and placed in morgue bags; the coroner had me positively ID Gina and then my deputy friend drove me home.

Late in the afternoon I was awakened by the coroner at the door; he confirmed his original diagnosis and said he was releasing the bodies for burial. There would be no autopsy since he had determined that their deaths’ were accidental. kartal travesti Gina’s dead lover was a respected member of the community and the sheriff didn’t want to it to be common knowledge that he’d died out of respect for the deceased’s wife, children and grandchildren.

I told the coroner I understood and told him that Wyatt’s Funeral Home would be in charge of Gina’s arrangements.

Later that evening; Mark Wyatt from the funeral home called and I went to the funeral home to make the arrangements. After expressing his regrets concerning Gina; I told him I had a special request and to please hear me out before he replied. I had played golf in a foursome with Mark on several occasions and had heard enough comments from him to know that he took some liberties with his female “clients”.

I also knew that Mark, who was divorced, had the hots for my wife but she was turned off by the fact that he was a mortician. I also had another buddy whose wife had left him and who had commented that he would love to have a piece of that (my wife) if she hadn’t been married.

Well, I know it sounds really strange, but I wanted one more fling with Gina, and I was going to give these guys a chance to join in with me if they wanted it. Gina had been such a slut and loved to fuck so much a couple more lovers wouldn’t matter.

I told Mark of my “party plans” and he was receptive of the idea right away. In fact I had a suspicion that he’d had designs on Gina anyway.

He came up with a few suggestions of his own. He preferred to go ahead and arterially embalm his “lovers” first; he would leave off the orifice plugs until after the “party” was over. Mark would also give her mouth, pussy and asshole a good cleansing and make her up to look and smell nice. After he was done telling me all these things I knew for certain that he’d been planning on his own little party before I suggested it.

Most of you readers will think we were gross, making plans to fuck my dead wife. But you have to believe me when I say that Gina and I had done just about everything sexually, including gangbangs, and bestiality. Necrophilia was the only thing we’d never gotten around to. So now we were going to do the last sexual fantasy left to us.

We decided to have our party around six the next evening. Mark wanted to invite a female friend of his who loved to “play dead”, to attend the party. The idea turned me on like crazy. To find a woman who was going to be as perverted as a bunch of guys was a real find.

I contacted my other buddy and was pleased to learn that he would love to fuck my wife, and it didn’t matter that she was dead. He went along with the whole idea without any protests.

The next day I arrived at the funeral home at about six and gave Mark a short sheer negligee and stockings I wanted Gina dressed in for her party. I waited in the hall for my buddy Jack and shortly after he arrived Mark led us to a big room in the back of the building.

There were two large sleeper couches that were pulled out into a bed and covered by white knit bedspreads. On the one on the left was Gina, clad in the sheer red negligee and sheer black thigh-high stockings with lacy bands on top. She had on the red heels she was wearing when she died.

Gina was posed sitting back against a couple of pillows with her luscious long legs positioned just wide kartal travestileri enough apart so that her bush and pussy were visible as you looked up under the negligee. She had never looking sexier!

On the couch to the right was a young blonde dressed in a white nightie, white stockings and white heels. She was positioned in the same pose as Gina and looked mighty sexy lying there. We could see up her nightie to view her blonde bush. But unlike Gina; when Mark touched her on the shoulder she came to life and he introduced her as Nikki.

Mark indicated that being I was the husband of the “guest of honor”; I should have her first. I sat down beside Gina and kissed her on the lips and played with her big tits. Over on the other couch; Jake sat down beside Nikki, she spread her legs and Jake began to eat her pussy as Mark removed his pants and underwear and Nikki took his dick into her mouth and began to suck it.

I was hard as a rock by now and I removed my clothes and got down between Gina’s shapely thighs and commenced to eat her pussy, imitating Jack. I have to admit that it felt strange licking and kissing a cold pussy and getting no reaction from my partner.

I looked over at Jake who now had his dick in Nikki’s pussy and was doing some serious fucking as Mark came in her mouth. I now had Gina’s cool clammy cunt lubed up enough to give it a try with my rod.

It only took a couple of thrusts to hit bottom and I settled into a rhythm as I pumped her dead KY-lubed pussy. I heard the moans of pleasure as Jake and Nikki both reached orgasm simultaneously and I knew by his body jerking that he was filling her pussy with his cum.

I looked at Gina’s beautiful face as I continued to pump her. Mark had done an excellent job with her hair and makeup. I opened each lifeless eyelid so her brown eyes were now staring lifelessly into space.

My lips kissed her cold, slightly parted cherry red lips. I was getting close to a climax and I increased the tempo of my thrusts and watched Gina’s big tits jiggle with each thrust. My wife’s dead cunt seemed to be grabbing my dick on each withdrawal. Oh; how wonderful it felt!

With one final deep hard thrust, I shot my hot sticky load deep into Gina’s lovely hole, like so many men had done before. My body jerked several times as I experienced a mind numbing orgasm, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

Finally spent, I withdrew from her and wiped the cum still oozing from my dick on her lips and then opened her mouth and stuck my dick in it and fucked her that way a few times before I decided it was time for Gina to have some attention from the other guys.

I got up off my wife and Mark crawled on to Gina and inserted his dick into her mouth and began to fuck her hard and deep. I could see her throat bulge as his stiff member went down it.

Jake was recuperating from his fuck session with Nikki and I sat down on the sofa with her. She pulled me on top of her and my slimy dick slid into her juicy cunt and we began to thrust in unison.

I heard Mark moan and looked up as he shot his load down my slut wife’s throat. I know it was my imagination, but it almost looked like Gina was enjoying herself.

Then it was Jake’s turn with her. He decided he wanted the only hole that hadn’t been fucked yet. He rolled Gina over on top of one of the large pillows travesti kartal so that her lovely ass was up in the air. He stuck his middle finger inside and pumped it in and out a few times to loosen her up before getting up behind her and pulling her ass cheeks apart and licking her asshole.

I watched in amazement as Jake stuck his big dick at the entrance of my wife’s bunghole and with a few thrusts buried it into Gina’s sexy ass. Reaching around and grasping her big luscious tits; he smiled as he screwed her asshole.

Watching Jake fuck my wife’s unresisting body and fucking Nikki in the same rhythm as Jack was doing my wife, brought me to the top again very soon. With a shout I shot my load into Nikki’s pussy just like I had only moments earlier into my wife’s cold dead pussy.

Finally exhausted, I withdrew from her. She lay there like she was dead with a smile on her face, while Jake continued to plow Gina’s asshole until finally he groaned and shot a full of cum into her backdoor.

Around midnight; after all the “guests” had been with each other multiple times; the party was winding down. Mark walked over to Nikki and picked her up. She remained “lifeless” as he carried her into another room and placed her in an open coffin for the rest of the night. Mark indicated that it was the usual way of ending her evenings here.

He returned and all three of us stood staring at the beautiful sexy corpse of my slutty wife. Dried or drying cum was all over her face and was still oozing out of her well used pussy and asshole. The “party” had been a success. I had gotten rid of most of the anger and disgust I had for Gina by screwing her corpse and then seeing my friends use and abuse her too.

Mark picked up Gina’s corpse and placed her in the cooler overnight and I went home and had a good night’s sleep.

The next evening was the viewing and I arrived just before 6:30. Mark led me into the room; where Gina’s silver casket was, to view her before the other guests arrived. He had dressed her in the clothes I had brought earlier in the day. She was wearing a thin red v-neck sweater that was cut low in the front. The bottom of the v ended about halfway between her breasts and her navel and since she wasn’t wearing a bra; revealed the inside contour of both big breasts. The sweater only covered the nipples and the outer contour.

My wife was wearing her favorite red high heels and sheer long black nylon stockings. She was wearing a short black mini-skirt so that only about half of her long shapely thighs were hidden from view. Looking around to see that no one was looking; Mark lifted Gina’s skirt to reveal the lacy red panties she was clad in. He pulled them down to show me “the special request” that I had made.

I had him insert a big pulsating dildo turned on “low” into Gina’s pussy instead of the usual venting tube. I indicated my approval and he put the panties and skirt back in place just before people started to arrive.

A large crowd turned out that evening and it was interesting to see the reaction of the men; young and old, to Gina and her burial outfit. Most of them, before they left, had developed erections that they were trying to hide and it was obvious that a considerable number would have done more than just look if they had the chance. Who could blame them with a sexy corpse lying there almost inviting them to.

The funeral the next day was sad and I shed tears for the first time since Gina’s death. She was buried in the church cemetery with the dildo still pulsating in her well-used cunt. I wondered how long the batteries would last on “low”.

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Scrub My Back, Please

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Non Nude

“I’m really sorry we don’t have any female aides available right now,” said Doug.

“It’s okay”, said Gina. “I’ve showered with cuter boys before.”

For one of the few times in his young life, Douglas Anderson was at a loss for words.

“Oh relax, Dougie. You know I’m kidding, right?,” asked Gina.

“That was pretty good,” said Doug, quietly.

“Besides, I said I’ve showered with cuter, I didn’t say you weren’t cute,” said Gina, winking.

Gina DeCassanna wheeled her shower commode up into the shower stall and locked her brakes, with Doug following close behind. Gina untucked the towel from under her arms, completely exposing her smooth, olive skin. The once-athletic 26 year old wasn’t fat, but her muscle tone was a far cry from what it once was. A white disposable brief was fastened snugly around her hips, with a slim yellow catheter draining into a bag fastened to Gina’s ankle. Gina handed her towel to Doug, who hung it on the hook outside the stall.

“Could I get a hand, please?” asked Gina, looking away.

Gina braced her arms on the rests of the commode, and gently lifted her numb sitting bones gently out of the chair. Doug simultaneously squatted down and gently pulled the brief down below Gina’s knees, making sure not to tug on her catheter, but he realized her bag was getting a little full.

“We should probably drain the bag,” said Doug. “You can roll over to the toilet, but there’s a drain right here, and it’s not like they don’t go the same place…”

“Fuck it,” said Gina, shrugging. “Everyone pees in the shower.”

Doug gently unclamped Gina’s leg bag, and gently manipulated her right leg so the bag drained directly into the shower drain. Once the bag was empty, Doug pulled the brief off of Gina, and walked over to the trash to dispose of it. Gina turned on the water and held it on to her arm to test the temperature. Once she had the perfect temperature dialed in, she began to wet her head and torso from the top down.

“Would you like me to close the curtain?” asked Doug.

The patient bathrooms at Foxe were wetrooms, designed to be completely soaked. The half curtain in the shower stall existed only to give patients some degree of supervised istanbul travesti privacy. Gina moved her wet hair out of her face and held the portable showerhead away from face, onto her chest. Doug watched as the warm water cascaded down her creamy skin and over her flat belly, before finally shooting off of her useless knees.

“I don’t care if you watch me shower,” said Gina. “Would you like to watch me shower?”

For the second time that day, Douglas Anderson just couldn’t find the words.

“Hey Dougie,” said Gina.

“Yeah?”

You should see your fucking face right now!,” Gina said, cackling. “Sorry man, thanks for being a good sport about it. Honestly, I’m still working on my balance, so how about we leave it open in case I fall, or pass out, or something.”

Doug could live with that. It was a free country and it didn’t affect his paycheck, she could shower in front of whoever she wanted!

Gina could indeed shower in front of whomever she wanted, and she picked Doug.

Once her body was sufficiently wetted, Gina grabbed the bar of soap and began to lather up her arms, raising each arm to get into her underarm. Gina moved over her shoulders, in toward her chest, lathering over the top of each breast, before lifting them to wash underneath, as well as in between. Gina moved down her torso in a circular motion, coating her slim upper half in a dense layer of suds.

Gina swapped the soap for the shower head once more, and gave herself a nice rinse. Suds flowed down her long, lean legs and gently fell off of Gina’s toes.

“Hey Doug,” said Gina.

“Yeah?,” asked Doug, hoping he wasn’t too obvious as he observed Gina.

“Scrub my back?,” asked Gina, as she beckoned to him with her bar of soap. “Please?”

Doug walked over to her, and she passed him the soap. Gina crossed her arms and leaned as far forward as she could. Doug worked in small circles, lathering up Gina’s back, trying his best to wash around the mostly-healed incision in the middle of Gina’s otherwise-flawless back.

“Trade me,” said Doug.

Without looking up, Gina silently handed Doug the showerhead, and he placed the bar of soap in her hand. Doug gently istanbul travestileri rinsed Gina’s back from top to bottom, once again avoiding the telltale scar of a spinal fusion. Once all the soap had been rinsed away, Doug handed the showerhead back to Gina.

“So, I’ve been working on my balance in PT, but it’s still not great, and being naked with everything all wet and slippery, could I please get some help?,” asked Gina. “I’m all clean from the bellybutton up, but if you could get everything under, that’d be awesome.”

Doug really couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gina handed him the bar of soap, and he began to lather up her left thigh, starting at the top and moving downward, followed by her knee and ankle. Finally, Doug gently plucked Gina’s left foot out of the footrest and gently washed her foot, making sure to get in between her toes. Once Gina’s left leg was fully covered in a velvety foam, Doug repeated the same motions with her right leg, with an equal amount of care.

“If you lift yourself up, I can get your buns,” said Doug to Gina.

“Buns? Did he seriously just say buns? What a fucking nerd!,” Gina thought.

Nonetheless, Gina lifted herself up in the commode, and Doug squatted down to scrub her numb cheeks through the commode seat. Gina couldn’t help but notice the veins protruding from Doug’s muscular arm as he bathed her.

“Thank god he’s not doing my bowel program,” said Gina to herself, silently. The mere thought of Doug administering her bowel program made her feel mortified.

Doug felt guilty about how much he was enjoying all of this, but he maintained his professional composure. Gina’s butt wasn’t nearly as toned as it was when she was able bodied, and muscle atrophy was starting to shrink the size; but Gina retained her pleasant shape, and her skin was soft and smooth. Once Doug had lathered her sufficiently, he picked up the showerhead and rinsed Gina’s buns off.

“Do you need help with the last part?,” asked Doug. Gina laughed.

“Relax kid, it’s just a vagina, I’m not gonna bite you. Or maybe I will. I’m not the boss of her anymore,” said Gina, as she pointed down to her paralyzed travesti istanbul crotch.

Doug laughed, and began to run the bar of soap into a washcloth, forming a nice amount of foam. Doug started at the top of Gina’s pubic mound, being sure to work her dark brown hairs into a nice lather. He could make out a faint outline of a faded tattoo, but he wasn’t about to ask her what it was. He moved down to Gina’s meaty love lips, and gently moved in small semi-circles, being sure to avoid the catheter sprouting from Gina’s urethral opening. Doug found his way lower past Gina’s vagina, toward her perineum and anus. Doug began to move in short, small strokes, toward the back.

Gina had no doubt that Doug was being totally professional, but the naughty part of her brain wanted to imagine that maybe he had slipped a finger or two inside, knowing that she might not fully feel it. If she looked just slightly up and away, she could pretend he was applying the soap with his big, soft hands instead of the washcloth. Doug was fast and efficient, he was good at his job.

Definitely not his first time showering with a girl.

Once Gina’s private area had been sufficiently lathered, Doug once again grabbed the showerhead and slowly rinsed Gina’s crotch off from the top, then moving down, finally squatting and getting under the commode. Doug lost his train of thought and became completely transfixed on the droplets of water that had formed on Gina’s labia.

Just like rain on rose petals.

Snapping back to the task at hand, Doug rinsed each of Gina’s legs individually, starting from top to bottom. Once Gina had been completely rinsed from soap residue, Doug turned off the water. He stepped out of the stall to hand Gina her towel, then he walked out of the wetroom. Gina immediately began to towel off her upper half, starting with her hair, face and arms. Doug returned with a smaller towel and an adult diaper. Doug squatted down to pat Gina’s legs and genitals dry. He gently threaded each of Gina’s feet through the holes in the brief, and pulled it up as high as it would go. Without saying a word, Gina lifted herself up in the chair, and Doug pulled the brief snugly around her hips.

Gina began to unlock her brakes, and Doug got behind the chair, and tried to push it. Silently, Gina lifted his right hand off of the chair, then his left. Grabbing her pushrims, Gina started toward the door.

“C’mon Dougie,” said Gina as she spun her chair around to face him. “Wanna help me get in bed?”

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Geilheit Kennt Keine Scham Teil 36

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Babes

“We know you are there – let us in”, ruft Sarah über das Mäuerchen unserer Terrasse. Wir hatten sie und ihren Mann am Abend vorher kennen gelernt und einen tabulosen Pärchenfick am nächtlichen Strand miteinander genossen. [GkkS Teil 14 und 21 – Auch im Urlaub bedeutet ficken Urlaub I-II] Danach sind wir zwar noch zusammen geblieben, aber wir waren schon zu müde und ausgelaugt, um noch einmal so richtig wild zusammen zu kommen. Jetzt liegen wir auf unsere Terrasse und halten unsere malträtierten und frisch rasieren Geschlechtsorgane in die Sonne damit sie sich erholen können.

Ich gehe, um den beiden aufzumachen. “Are you decent?”, fragt Sarah, als ich die Türe öffne. “Never”, lautet meine Antwort. Mit einem aufgepumpten aber noch hängendem Schlauch präsentiere ich mich ihr. “That’s an answer of our liking”, grinst sie und lässt die durchsichtige weiße Robe fallen, als sie herein kommt. Darunter trägt sie einen dunkelroten Microbikini, der Spinnennetzen nachempfunden ist. Die Fäden laufen über ihre großen Titten ohne irgendetwas zu verdecken. In der Mitte liegen durchsichtige Stofffetzen, die gerade groß genug sind, um ihre gepiercten Nippel zu bedecken. Der String besteht aus vielen Fäden, die ein ebenfalls durchsichtiges, rotes Nichts über ihrer Spalte halten. Es ist offensichtlich, dass der Sinn des Bikinis nicht ist, etwas zu verdecken, sondern vielmehr die Aufmerksamkeit auf ihre Nippel und Spalte zu lenken.

Sarah ist auch ohne dies in jeder Beziehung ein echter Hingucker: lange Beine, flacher trainierter Bauch, breite Schultern, große, feste Titten, kurze, strubbelige blonde Haare und ein süßes mit Sommersprossen über der Nase und dem oberen Teil der Wangen versehenen Gesicht, das von offenen Augen und einem vollen Mund vervollständigt wird.

“I’m happy that you look forward seeing us”, begrüßt sie mich bevor sich mich küsst und mein Gehänge liebkost, das sich dadurch zur vollen Pracht aufrichtet. Simon schließt die Türe. “Hi, Lover. You’re hot.” – “Likewise. Love your shorts, suit your shlong!” Simon trägt knappe, durchsichtige Beachshorts von Rufskin, die man sich über die Badehose ziehen kann, wenn man am Strand an die Bar geht. Aber die hat er weg gelassen. Er ist ja auch nicht gekommen, um hier züchtig einen zu trinken, sondern hart und ausgiebig mit uns zu ficken.

Sarah verschwindet auf die Terrasse zu Kay. Ich fasse Simon an seinen gut sichtbaren, schweren Schlauch, dem es bald zu eng wird in der eine Nummer zu kleinen Hose. Das noch weiche Fleisch zuckt und pumpt unter meinem Griff. Seine sich ausdehnende Fülle, fühlt sich geil in meiner Hand an. Noch gibt sein Fleisch in meiner Hand nach, lässt sich verformen. Gleichzeitig ist es aber fest und stark. Es wird mehr, pumpt sich auf. Meine Hand wird zu klein für den Pfosten, der unter leichten Druck in istanbul travesti meiner Hand heran wächst. Er wird dicker, härter, länger. Bald halte ich eine feste, nach draußen drängende Stange in einer Hand. Mein Mund ist an seinem Hals, seinem Ohr, seinen Wangen. Während ich ihn mit meinen Lippen kose, flüstere ich: „It was great yesterday to taste your cock; to suck you off; knowing were your cock had been; knowing it was in Kay’s snatch, fucking it; dumping your cum in her.”

Simon stöhnt, fasst mich an meinen Arsch, sucht meine Rosette, kitzelt sie mit einem Finger während er sich mit der anderen Hand meinen Steifen schnappt und ihn wichst. Wir reiben unsere Körper aneinander, stöhnen leicht. „Take my cock”, stöhnt er. Ich gehe an ihm runter. Simon zieht seine Shorts runter. Sein Pfosten springt heraus. Ich bin vor ihm auf den Knien, schnappe mir mit meinem Mund seine fette 6×25 cm dicke Latte und presse meine Lippen über sie und schiebe mit ihnen und der Hilfe meiner Zähne seine Vorhaut zurück.

Ich lecke an seiner Schwanzspitze, ertaste mit meiner Zungenspitze die Öffnung seiner Harnröhre, umfahre den Rand seiner Eichel. Meine Hände sind an seinem Po, die Finger bahnen sich einen Weg hinein. „I must have you”, stöhnt er. „Fuck your cunt-ass.” – „Let’s get outside. The chicks might enjoy watching us.” – „They will love it!” Mit unseren harten, schwingenden Ruten gehen wir raus. Die Mädels befummeln und beißen sich zärtlich in ihre empfindlichen Teile.

„Where have you been”, fragt Kay. „You didn’t want to withheld us of the great show of the two of you doing it to each other, did you??! Anyhow, give us a kiss Simon!” Simon beugt sich zu ihr runter und küsst sie. Gleichzeitig befummelt er ihre glatt rasierte Möse, die er dann ebenfalls küsst. Wobei küssen untertrieben ist. Er leckt sie heftig. Erst als Kay aufstöhnt, lässt er von ihr ab und grinst sie an. „Fuck me, Simon. Please!”, haucht sie. „Sorry, love, it’s your man’s turn now to get a treat.” Während er dies mit gespielter Enttäuschung sagt, hält er seinen mächtigen Steifen in der Hand und reibt ihn provozierend. Das muss Kay so richtig geil machen. Sie öffnet ihre Schenkel weit, fasst sich an ihr Schatzkästchen, zieht die Schamlippen auseinander und zeigt uns die Öffnung ihres feucht schimmernden Fickkanals. „Please!!”, schnurrt sie.

Simon grinst nur. Ich knie mich mit breit gespreizten Schenkeln und weit geöffneter Hüfte auf das Loungesofa. Simon leckt meine Rosette, steckt seine Zungenspitze in sie. Dann packt er sich ordentlich Gleitmittel auf seinen Pfosten, schmiert meine Rosette ebenfalls ein. „Lucky Bastard”, raunt Kay und gibt mir einen Kuss. „Watching you getting nailed by such a huge cock makes me horny beyond all that is endurable.” – „I hope I can help you out”, bietet istanbul travestileri sich Sarah an, greift ihr an die Pussy und beginnt sie hart zu bearbeiten. „Yes, but when they’re finished they have to fuck me — both at once and hard!”, stöhnt sie unter Sarahs unbarmherziger Hand.

Simon packt meine Hüften und setzt seinen Speer an mir an. Ich entspanne mich, spüre wie sich meine Rosette leicht öffnet. Simon drückt sein Fleisch mit Nachdruck in meines. Ich atme hart aus vor Lust. Seine Eichel schiebt sich in mich, stößt gegen den Schließmuskel. Ich lasse los. Alle Muskeln in mir lösen sich. In meinem Körper breitet sich die totale Entspannung aus — zumindest in meinem Unterleib. Simon schiebt seinen Pfahl mit einem kleinen Push durch den nur wenig Widerstand leistenden Schließmuskel. Reflexhaft verkrampfe ich leicht, löse mich aber sofort wieder. Je tiefer Simon in mich eindringt, desto entspannter bin. Ich spüre den Druck, den sein harter Pfosten in mir verursacht. Genieße wie er sich in mir Raum verschafft, in mir ist.

Er fickt mich sanft. Drückt mit seinem Harten gegen meine Prostata. Mein Hintern ist weit offen. Mein Unterleib nimmt Simons lustvoll in mir agierende Männlichkeit mit gieriger Entspanntheit auf. Jeder Stoß lässt mich mehr erschauern, weitet mich mehr für den folgenden Stoß. „Deeper”, grunze ich. Ich liege mit der Wange auf dem Sofa, lasse mich stoßen, fühle die Lust, die mich durchströmt und die eine ganz andere Geilheit ist, als die Geilheit, die ich verspüren, wenn ich jemanden ficke.

Ich atme schwer. Simons zieht sein hartes, fettes Rohr bis zur Spitze aus mir und schiebt es wieder genussvoll bis zum Anschlag in mich. Mein Schließmuskel ist komplett gelöst, mein Inneres fühlt sich an wie ein Tunnel, in dem sich ein maßgefertigtes Projektil eng an die Wände geschmiegt, aber doch nicht von ihnen gehindert, hin und her gleitet.

Simon fickt mich bestimmt und kraftvoll. Ich keuche vor Geilheit, genieße sein Fleisch in mir, die Stöße an meiner Prostata, die Lust, die sich in mir ausbreitet, sich immer mehr aufbaut und Erlösung in einem Orgasmus sucht. Ich bin sein Toy-Boy, seine willige Analhure. Er nagelt mich grunzend mit seinem großen Hammer. Sein Schweiß tropft auf mich. Es schüttelt mich. Flüssigkeit tropft aus meinem Schaft. Ich stehe kurz vor einer Reaktion. Doch ich weiß nicht welcher. Da wird er heftiger, treibt seinen Kolben rücksichtsloser in mich. „Yes, yes”, keucht er und mit kräftigen Stößen spritzt er sein heißes Sperma in mich. Mein Körper hält die Lust nicht mehr aus und lässt den Druck in einem Orgasmus raus.

Ich schreie vor Lust, breche zusammen. Simon fickt mich weiter bis sein Schwanz aus mir rutscht und sein Saft aus mir läuft. Ich drehe mich um. Kay küsst mich. „Mein armer Hase, so bist travesti istanbul du noch nie ran genommen worden.” – „Und es war geil”, keuche ich. „You are so fucking great Simon”, bekomme ich gerade noch so raus. Ich drehe mich auf den Rücken und sofort ist Simon über meinem Schwanz. Er lutscht ihn hart. „You haven’t cum yet”, kommentiert er sein Tun. „Because I want to dump it in your ass”, antworte ich gespielt launig. „So, what are you waiting for?”, meint er darauf trocken. – „That you sit on my fuck-pole, dear.”

Simon lässt Gleitcreme auf meinen Schaft tropfen und verteilt sie mit einer Hand gleichmäßig über mein Gemächt. Seine Hand reibt er sich an seinem Hintern ab. Dann hockt er sich über mich und drückt sich auf meinen harten Mast. Durch gegenseitige Hilfe findet er seinen Weg in Simons Hintern. Simon lässt sich auf mich sinken. Mein Harter steckt tief in ihm. Gemächlich fängt er an sich an mir auf und ab zu schieben. Mit hinter meinem Kopf verschränkten Händen sehe ich dabei zu, wie er mich als Dildo benutzt und seine Gehänge dabei fröhlich hin und her schwingt.

Aber eigentlich will ich nicht schon wieder genommen werden, sondern selber ficken, meinen Schaft hart in seinen Hintern treiben. Ihn füllen, erst mit meinem nimmersatten Luststab, dann mit meinem heißen Saft, den ich in ihm absame. „Let’s change positions”, grunze ich. „I want to fuck you.” – „That’s what I’ve been waiting for”, grinst Simon, steigt von mir ab, legt sich auf den Rücken und spreizt einladend seine Schenkel. Ich stopfe ihm noch ein Kissen unter das Becken und komme dann über ihn während er sich genüsslich seinen Bolzen und seinen Sack streichelt.

Seine Rosette ist noch offen. Ich ziehe die Vorhaut zurück und setze meine pralle, glänzende Eichel an seinem Darmeingang an. Wir sehen uns an während ich meinen Pfosten in ihn schiebe. Sein Schließmuskel stellt keinen großen Widerstand dar. Mit ein wenig Druck ploppt mein Schaft durch ihn und ich stoße ihn zügig bis zum Anschlag in Simons Fickloch. Er stöhnt auf vor Lust und ich nagel ihn mit langen, kräftigen, tiefen Stößen.

Simon legt seine Füße auf meine Schultern. Mein Oberkörper wird dadurch weiter nach hinten gedrückt und sein Becken liegt höher. Dadurch verändern sich Winkel und Intensität, mit der ich in ihn stoße. Ich hämmere meinen Bolzen in ihn, ficke ihn unbarmherzig. Wir stöhnen und keuchen. Der Schweiß läuft an uns herunter. Meine Schenkel knallen an seine, mein Sack schlägt an seine Backen. Meine Eichel glüht, mein Schaft ist hart, in meinen Eiern brodelt es. Ich werde lauter. Heißes Sperma steigt in mir auf. Findet seinen Weg nach draußen. Wie aus einem speienden Vulkan schießt es aus meinem zuckenden Schwanz in Simons Darm.

Simon lässt die Beine herunter. Ich lasse mich auf ihn gleiten. Rutsche dann neben ihn. Sarah kümmert sich um mich während Kay sich zu Simon legt. Wir spüren der Lust nach, die wir einander verursacht haben und die noch durch unsere Körper wabert. Verlängert wird dieses warme Gefühl durch die Mädels, die uns liebkosen, streicheln und unsere Geilheit und Lust auf ihre Mösen wiederbeleben.

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Ruby’s Game

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Anal

(This story is based on an idea sent from a much appreciated Anon. -Wolf)

I’ve known Trisha my whole life. She’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I won’t bore you with our entire life stories, but I’ll catch you up to speed. And then we’ll talk about the video. And the game.

My name is Ruby. My parents must have been psychic, because it turned out to be an apt name for a short, scrawny redhead. They call me their little gem, even though I’m shy and not very friendly. But I’m eighteen– can you blame me?

Trisha was my age and my physical opposite– but we were thick as thieves since day one. She was a dirty blonde with much more confidence than me.

She also had lipedema. The only thing I understood about her condition was it meant she looked both fat and skinny at the same time. Her top half was only a little chubby, but her legs were disproportionately huge. So was her butt. Her bottom half seemed like it belonged to someone else. Someone enormous.

Anyone else would have been a social outcast, but Trisha didn’t bare any shame for her condition, which drastically changed her body in the last couple years of high school. She wasn’t bullied, because she’d tear someone a new one if they tried. She was tough. I admired her for it.

I also found myself interested in her strange proportions. Once she really started to swell up during her eighteenth year, I felt differently about her.

I thought I was straight, but Trisha made me reconsider things. I felt weird about suddenly crushing on my best friend. I felt strange for being aroused by her excess cellulite, and her incredibly bottom heavy body. I was also very curious how much she weighed.

That’s as good an intro as any.

One day, I was Trish’s playing a game on her tablet while she binged a marathon of some reality dating show on her TV. We were often hanging in her cramped bedroom. I didn’t enjoy every guilty pleasure she did, so we often entertained ourselves while hanging out.

I got tired of playing the game, and started perusing her tablet for other apps to try. I found a file marked FACTING, and I swear I thought it was some trivia game or something. It wasn’t.

Trisha stared at her TV as I tapped the icon, and discovered a video file. The cover image didn’t reveal the contents. I played the video, expecting nothing.

The sound was on full blast from my earlier game. The video started halfway through some kind of porn vid, in which a woman with similar proportions to Trisha was sitting on a man’s face, seemingly suffocating him on purpose. She was nude, and jiggly and–

“OH MY GOD!” Trisha said, snatching the tablet from my hands, stifling the speaker with her palm as she frantically scrambled to turn it off.

I was in shock, and embarrassed, and totally confused.

“Ruby!” she hissed, turning bright red, “You’re just digging through my shit?”

“Sorry,” I said, probably a shade more red than herself. Ginger skin: it’s my superpower.

Trisha sighed. “It’s not your fault. I should have hid that better.”

“What is that? Who is that? That wasn’t…you, was it?” I felt flushed, and warm all over.

“No!” Trisha scoffed. “She’s just some chick online who…”

She covered her hands with her face. My eyes darted to her black Nirvana shirt. It barely hid her tummy.

“She has lipedema too. She sits on guys faces. She does OnlyFans and stuff. You think I’m a fucking weirdo for saving that, just say it!”

She looked like she wanted to laugh, but maybe she was worried about my judgement, which would be a first.

“Trish, no…” I giggled a little, trying to ease the tension. “That was actually…pretty hot.”

She eyed me suspiciously.

“I mean it,” I said.

Trisha looked at her bedroom carpet.

“I know, right?” she said, grinning. She looked up at me. “I like pretending that it’s me, doing that to someone, when I…”

My heart fluttered a little. I had never seen a video like that. Never imagined someone like Trisha using her butt to suffocate someone. It was so weird, and intimate, and intriguing.

“Was he like…licking her? Or…” I was often shy when it came to sex stuff. We were both virgins, but I could barely talk about anything beyond kissing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Trisha said thoughtfully. “It’s more about smothering– like breath play stuff.”

I had never told anyone, but recently I had started holding my breath while I masturbated. It got me there quicker. I didn’t think much of it until now.

“Hmm,” I said, not sure how to contribute to this conversation.

“Ruby, do you–” Trisha trailed off abruptly. She fell back on her bed, groaning.

I climbed up beside her, poking her soft side.

“What’s wrong, Trishy?” I teased.

“I almost said something super dumb,” she said.

“Oh,” I said innocently.

“I almost asked if you wanted to try that.” Her words hung in the air, and my heart skipped a beat or two.

“Naked?” I squeaked.

“No, I don’t have to be.” She spoke softly, even istanbul travesti though her parents both worked late. We were alone for hours.

“That wouldn’t be terrible for me,” I said, trying to seem playful. I was trying to flirt with my best friend, but I didn’t know how.

Trisha looked at me, then to the carpet again.

“Ruby,” she said, “We’re best friends. Maybe this is too weird, even for us. Plus, I’m so heavy. I could hurt you, or–“

“Trish, I like your body. I actually really like your body.” I was beet red, surely. But I spoke my truth.

“Really?” she said, tilting her head. “I’m a fatso though.” She bit her lip, begging me to tell her more.

I smiled. “I dunno what to tell you. I like all your curves.”

She smiled in return, then sat up.

“We could…play a game. I saw something once, it’s like a guessing game. You guess my weight, and then…okay, wait a second. Lie down.”

I did as asked, both nervous and excited. Trisha was wearing grey sweatpants, the kind that was thicker and left more to the imagination than the sheer kind that most girls wore these days.

She crawled over me, and started to straddle my face. I giggled nervously as her massive leg swooped over my head.

“So,” she said, parking her massive ass directly above me. “You guess my weight. You guess wrong, and I sit on you. Each wrong guess means I sit on you a little bit longer.”

“Okay,” I said cautiously, “Do I have to guess exactly right? How would I–“

“I weighed myself today,” she said. “That’s the number in my head.”

“But you could cheat,” I said suspiciously.

Trisha laughed, clearly not realizing that until now.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she said sweetly. “So, guess.”

My mind went blank. All I could see was an extremely wide waist perched above me, cloth digging in to her crotch and ass. I need to emphasize how huge her ass really was; Each butt cheek was much wider than my whole waist. It was a staggering volume of…woman. And I swore I could almost smell her–

“Ruby,” she said flatly.

“Sorry. Uh…two hundred pounds?”

“Nope,” she giggled, and lowered herself. This was really happening.

Her titanic ass approached. My nose pressed into her butt crack as she slowly sat down upon me. I giggled nervously. Her impossibly big ass pushed gently against my face. I inhaled deeply through my nose, taking a big breath.

God she smelled good. Like laundry, and sweat, and feminine aromas.

Then my world went dark as her butt eclipsed my sight. Her soft, warm cheeks buried me, and pressed my mouth shut, and my nose deep into her crack.

Feeling her weight upon me was incredible. I was pressed into her bed– her mattress sunk in deep under her gravity. I realized I probably couldn’t breathe if I tried. A little bit of panic crept in, as I didn’t remember her saying how long she would sit for. Just when I started to worry, she sat up on her knees.

I inhaled fresh air that was both musky and sweet.

“How was that?” Trisha asked with a sensual inflection.

“Pretty great,” I said, my jeans containing my secret, that I was already feeling a little wet from that first sitting.

“Do I stink? Or was I hurting you?” Trisha wiggled her bum above me.

“Nope and nope,” I said. My nose felt a little bent, but I felt amazing otherwise. “But are you counting in your head?”

“No,” she said. “Sorry, I forgot. I just wanted to see how it felt first. I think that was like…five seconds? How about I’ll add another five every time you get it wrong.”

“What?” I laughed, my nose sounding stuffy. “But if I make too many wrong guesses I’ll pass out! Wait, would I pass out? Or could I like…die?”

“No,” she said, patronizingly. “I’ll get up if you tap me. But this is a good way to get used to it, slowly going longer without air.”

I wasn’t mentally prepared for such a perfect fantasy to manifest like this. I couldn’t wait to have her do it again.

“Okay,” I said coyly. “Seven…hundred…pounds.”

“Pfft, you wish.” Trisha lowered herself again. Her ass consumed me once more, and I relished in being forced up inside her ass. I heard her start to count in Mississippi units, but her voice was muffled by her titanic bum.

My nose was being pinched by the seam of her sweats, but otherwise I was great. I tried to inhale, and because of the soft material, I could kind of pull some oxygen in, but with much effort. It didn’t help. Trisha counted unintelligible numbers as I started to feel the need to breathe. I think she was counting slowly because of the too-high guess.

My lungs ached a little, but she heaved off soon after.

“You might want to guess a bit more seriously if you want to survive,” she laughed.

I drew breath, feeling only a little faint.

“Are you sitting all the way?” I asked, my nose throbbing a little. I wished I could see her face, but that would be a while yet.

“Like fully sitting? No.”

“Well how else can I guess properly?”

“Fair istanbul travestileri point. But your guess.”

“Alright. Two hundred and fifty-five pounds.”

“Cold,” she said.

Trisha sat down again. The pressure increased. And increased. It didn’t stop. I was buried, packed deep inside her crevice. That fucking seam was digging into my flattened nose. My head felt like a watermelon being slowly stepped on by a hippo.

Then the pressure peaked, and I knew I that Trisha was resting all of her weight on me.

Immediately, I wanted air. It was too soon to crave escape this badly, and new sensations crept into the experience. I was claustrophobic, uncomfortable, and scared.

Sure, I knew I could tap her, and I was pretty sure she’d get up. But that panic was hard to shut out. I resisted tapping out for as long as I could, but I gave up before she got herself up.

I slapped blindly at her legs and she quickly leaned forward.

“Jeez Rubes, you’re supposed to be lasting longer, that was barely–“

“Sorry!” I said, panting heavily, “I got overwhelmed, I felt claustrophobic!”

“Hmm,” she replied. “Not sure why I enjoy the idea of you like…struggling to breathe under me. I must be a fucking sociopath or something!”

We both laughed– maybe at the absurdity of what we were doing. Maybe laughing made it less intimate– made it a game instead of something more than just teens experimenting.

“There’s a seam in your sweats that’s killing my nose,” I said.

Trisha climbed off me, and lay next to me on the bed. She inspected my raw sniffer.

“That looks painful,” she said, lightly tracing her finger along the bridge of my nose.

“I’m a trooper.” I sounded like I had a cold.

“I could take my sweats off.” She stared at me with her amber eyes. The look revealed nothing other than I knew she meant it.

I struggled to find words.

Struggled to form a reply.

She spoke first.

“I had a shower this morning before school. And I shave, so I’m not like…gross or anything. But it’s more like…do you even want to keep doing this? ‘Cause I don’t want us to be like, weird later, or–“

“Trisha, this is like…the best day of my life,” I said. “I feel weird saying this, but I really want to know how it feels for you to sit on my face with no pants on.”

I grimaced a little, but speaking the truth felt good.

She smiled, and kissed my forehead.

“I’m glad. I really wanted to keep going.” She lay back, and shimmied out of her sweats. Her pale legs were exposed, and I saw things I’d never seen before.

I saw another girl’s pussy for the first time, at least the top part. She was shaved indeed. Her mound was so much chubbier than I expected. It looked like it would fill both my hands. Her mammoth thighs were dimpled and uneven, and her ass sort of pooled out where she was sitting on the bed.

There was so much flesh, so much cellulite.

Then she crawled up on all fours again. Crawled up to my head. Swung her colossal thigh over my face.

“Yup, that’s my vagina,” she giggled. Her body jiggled and wobbled. I was in heaven as I gazed at her pussy lips. They were cute, and barely peeked out from her plump crotch.

Then I looked up, into her deep ass crack. It called to me. It begged for me to plunge my face inside. She boldly wiggled her hips and her cheeks wobbled and grazed my forehead.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

“Three hundred,” I said.

“Gettin’ there,” said Trisha, “but very slowly.”

She brought her rear upon me. I nonchalantly guided my nose into the middle of her crack, squirming slowly inside as her cheeks slowly swallowed me.

Without her sweats, her skin was warmer, and had more grip. The more weight she slowly relaxed upon me, the more pressure I felt on my face. I kept my hands by my sides until I needed desperately to reach up, trying to part her cheeks a little so I could push in deeper. I couldn’t do much– I could barely reach.

She understood what I was trying to do, and sat up a tiny bit before spreading her ass apart drastically.

I saw her asshole in the dark center: I dove in.

I pushed my nose against her musky hole, and she released her flesh, trapping me inside, and sitting down with impatient force.

If I had felt claustrophobic before, I wasn’t prepared for this.

I was sealed tightly inside Trisha’s balmy, flesh prison. It was airtight. I felt so severely buried that I literally felt like I was underneath an elephant. I felt her breathing, and heard her muscles and whatnot shifting and heaving.

I heard her counting, but I only heard vague noises.

I started counting the noises.

I got to seven as my survival instincts crept in.

I reached thirteen as my chest screamed for air.

I reached seventeen as I realized absentmindedly how turned on I was.

A second later I tapped her naked thighs to get her off.

A second later, she still wasn’t budging.

When she finally lifted, I practically screamed travesti istanbul as I drew breath.

“Fuuuuck!” I gasped, making sounds that scared myself. Suddenly I was highly aware of the surreal nature of this moment. My obese best friend was suffocating me with her ass. Her NAKED ass. I mean, I was fucking CRAMMED up there, and I think she LIKED that she was almost crushing the life out of her shy, diminutive bestie, Ruby.

This was fucking crazy.

“Ruby?” she said, sounding both concerned and hungry for more.

I groaned, seeing stars and feeling very lightheaded.

“I had to get to twenty, you were almost there anyways,” said Trisha. She had ignored my pleas for an extra couple seconds. And I wasn’t even mad.

I was soaked.

“You gotta manage your air better, Rubes,” she said as I studied the details of her secret entrance. Entrances, plural.

“You’re doing great though,” she said, patting the crotch of my jeans. She had never touched me there before. I had also never wedged my face into her ass before today either.

I writhed a little at her touch. She didn’t comment on it.

“So, be honest,” she said, “What’s my ass smell like?”

I boldly leaned in, inhaling dramatically inside her butt crack, and said, “Smells perfect.”

She laughed, and patted me twice between my legs again, then kept her hand there.

My heart couldn’t take much more. I loved her so much. Love or something like it.

“What happens when I guess right?” I asked, resisting the urge to kiss her pussy, which unlike mine, was fully exposed.

“Well,” she said, “You can have whatever you want.”

I smiled. Not that she could see. I thought for a moment. I didn’t know how close I was but I felt like I needed to aim higher. But not too high.

“Four hundred.”

“Ooh, wow. You’re really close. But…not exactly right.”

Once more, I was entombed. I had wisely slowed my breathing beforehand. I counted with Trisha to keep track.

I tried to tell myself that twenty-five seconds was nothing.

I tried not to think about the pressure, or the heat, or the panic that slowly piled on with every extra second. I didn’t fully trust Trisha. Or, I knew she might take her time to release me. My time. My precious seconds.

I wondered what she must be thinking. What it must feel like to smother such a scrawny, weak little girl like me. I bet she felt powerful. Like a goddess. Or something.

I had lost count. My limit was reached. I tapped for air. She didn’t move. I expected this. I raked at her skin with my nails. She remained stoic.

I tried to scream, but her intimate flesh was pressed tightly against my lips.

I thrashed around, and she tapped me on the pussy. I swear I almost came from a tap.

Then she sat up.

“Sorry,” she sighed as I wheezed in some air, sounding ragged and sickly.

“Not…cool,” I managed. I couldn’t survive another round. This game was secretly deadly. I could have passed out. I could have–

“I love you Ruby,” said Trisha, softly.

She might have been kidding, but I said, “Love you too, Trish. So much.”

She leaned forward, and kissed my jeans between my legs.

I leaned in, and softly kissed her secret place in return. I pulled away, and a sweet strand of syrup hung between our lips for a second before swinging back between her legs.

She was very wet, and tasted like those purple flowers kids suck on.

I was about to go for it. Dive in, lick her like a lollipop and taste her sweet, honey flavored–

“Just guess one more time, Rubes,” she said. “Then we can do whatever you want. But first…tell me exactly what you want.”

I only had to think for a second.

“I want to taste you. I want to lick you, fucking bury my face in there, and I want you to touch me. I don’t want you to let me breathe until I come.”

Trish made a surprised sound, like a moan she didn’t know she was going to make.

I was about to make my final guess.

“Four hundred and–“

“Close enough,” Trisha whispered, and relaxed her entire weight upon me.

I honed in on her pussy before things went dark. Trisha’s fingers approached my pants as I started to lick at her sweet lips.

I had no sense of navigation underneath her hundreds of pounds. I tongued at her sweet entrance until I felt her lips part.

I felt my pants loosen, become removed, and my underwear was peeled off. I panicked for a second, unsure if I had a tampon inside me until I remembered that was last week. I too had showered today. I too, was shaved. Like my parents, I too must have been psychic. It’s like I had planned this or something.

Trisha was grinding against my face. My nose was shoved up her pussy at one point, coating me in her nectar. I licked incessantly, blindly searching for her clit. I was a virgin, but I knew how a woman got off.

I felt her shift slightly, and her mouth met my snatch. I felt a wave of pleasure roll through me as her tongue lapped at my virgin clit.

At that moment, I found hers.

I was too ambitious before. Just as I started to swirl my tongue around her sweet little nub, my need for air reached its limit.

I instinctively adjusted my head to try to find some air. Trish was straddling more than sitting, but her swollen curves were still impeding my airways.

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