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Because I get asked a lot, here it is. The story of how I became a medic and the misbehavior that has resulted since.

“Oh my God,” said Jasmine, sticking her head into the VIP section where I was dancing at, Totally, the upscale topless gentleman’s club. “It’s a raid!”

Like a flash I grabbed my top and the customer who had been enjoying his lapdance was on his feet in a panic.

I was just fitting the cups on my big 34DD tits as the loud raucous noise of the sheriff’s officers crashing through the main stage filled my ears and before I had time to reach back and clip it securely, a deputy in riot gear poked her head into the semi-private booth.

“Just stay like that, hon” she said whipping out a zip tie to lasso my already positioned wrists.

Unfortunately for me, I hadn’t had time to secure the clasps and the cups of my bra slipped off my breasts and fell to the floor. It was just what the deputy wanted. She gave me a really bitchy grin.

“Oh well,” she said cinching down the plastic cuffs.

I wouldn’t be the only one in such a fix. She grabbed my arm and ushered me out into the main area of the club where over two dozen Totally topless dancers were just that. As if timed for perfect effect, someone threw on the overhead lights.

Now if you have ever been in a “strip” club you know it is all low lighting or at least pink or blue hued. There is a reason for that. Harsh white light is not kind. It reveals everything, all the flaws, the little things you don’t want anyone to see. Frankly, it’s the stuff of which legends are killed. As we all looked around at each other, most with heavy augmented boobs hanging and not nearly enough g string below to hide, certain…grooming decisions and other aspects of anatomy a general humiliation settled in. It was just terrible. A lot of illusions were being destroyed. Age — I myself was almost 30 — c-section scars, and more, were completely on display. Worse we all had our hands behind our backs, so all those grinning male deputies were getting quite the look. The grins from the female deputies were of a different sort, a kind of “see I told you so” expression at the imperfections that, even more than our near nudity, were humiliating us beyond recovery.

“Okay ladies,” said the deputy, a sergeant actually, that had cuffed me. “We are going to take you out to the vans. You will be transported downtown, and you will then be processed. Now listen up. You have the right to remain silent…”

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Okay, so here’s what your facing…” My lawyer opened the file and started to read.

“Uh huh, solicitation of prostitution.” He looked up from the folder and smiled.

“What?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s what all the women from the club are being charged with.”

I was sitting there in a county orange jumpsuit, the most decent thing I had been allowed to put on since the arrest. Underneath, I had on nothing. The county jail matron had required the g string and had placed it in an envelope with a kind of smug grin before telIing me I could pick it up if I made bail. My nipples and areola, which are always very prominently knobby since my boob job — I am 34DD on a 5-4 118 frame — were making an obvious pokey detailed outline on the top of the cotton jumpsuit. My lawyer, who it turned out was representing all of the dancers from the club, could barely keep his eyes off the outrageous pinging that was always there regardless of whether I was turned on, or cold, or not. Being honest, while it had made a huge financial difference to my “dancing,” I had a lot of regrets about getting this augmentation. Outside of the club, my disproportionately large tits were a liability. Women took one look and judged me, men took one longgggg look and judged me only to a different purpose. Also, it had made buying any bra and top that could hide their details a challenge.

“I wasn’t doing that! I am not a whore,” I said emotionally.

“Of course not,” he said calmly staring at my chest. “Like I said, it’s what they are blanket charging everyone with.”

“What?” I was beyond freaked out.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s a game they play. They always go for that. We counter with a lesser charge. You plead guilty, or better, no contest. The cops get a big bust, makes the news that they are stopping immorality and crime. You don’t do any time, maybe some probation and keeping it to a misdemeanor makes it expungeable later on.”

He made it sound so reasonable. The part he left out was that for a period of time I was allowing myself to be labeled as something I was not. I was admitting to something I didn’t do, and I would have to do some awful penance of probation.

I just sat there dumbfounded at first. “No. Nope. Not doing that,” I said.

He gave me look like it wasn’t up to me.

“Listen, they have two cops who will say they were undercover and that you propositioned them. You are a stripper–“

“Dancer,” I corrected. tokat escort For as long as I had been dancing, for all of us that danced topless, in fact, the terminology was important. Stripper had a much lower connotation in our world.

“Whatever,” he said. “Look, who do you think a judge or jury will believe?”

I knew he was right and sat there looking frustrated and furious.

“What do I have to do?” I said finally.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Judge Hannah Humphreys was a graduate of Houston Christian College and had risen to her elected position as a staunch advocate of law enforcement and protector of family values and morals. She was also a cruel bitch and hated “strippers.” A few years earlier she had caught her husband frequenting a topless club and ever since she had harbored a hateful vendetta. Beyond that, she was known for being a clever and imaginative in her punishments, and never more than when someone like me was before her bench.

As I stood in court dressed modestly in a plain skirt suit, without a shred of make up and my hair pulled back in a small bun, I could have passed for any normal suburban woman with one major exception, my big tits.

Unfortunately, despite the thicker bra and the material of the skirt suit, the “just there” expression of both bolting nipples still drew attention to the disproportionate swell of my boobs. One look from Judge Humphreys and I knew she was estimating me based on them as well.

“So, I see here that the charge has been reduced to indecent exposure and public lewdness,” she said looking over the top of her little reading glasses.

The words dripped with derision and disgust. I felt about an inch tall.

“How do you plead?”

My face burned as I cleared my throat and said, “No contest, your honor.”

The way she looked at me made me feel like I had a big scarlet W emblazoned on my chest.

“Okay, well. You do realize that no contest is not the same as not guilty?”

I looked at my lawyer. He looked a little surprised.

“Uhhh, your honor,” he started to say.

“I want to hear from the defendant,” she said cutting him off.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

The look she gave me wilted any sense of self-esteem I had left. I felt like a total whore and sensed that anyone listening would think of me the same way.

“Where do you currently work?” she asked.

I felt almost light-headed.

“I am a dancer at Totally,” I said, my face burning red with shame.

“You are a stripper?”

I started to react with what all of us did when that term was used, but my lawyer’s slight hand signal was enough to tell me that I was flirting with disaster.

“Yes ma’am.”

“A stripper?” she said. It was clear the moralistic bitch wanted me to say it too.

“A stripper,” I said.

“Uh huh,” she scoffed. “Well then, this constitutes moral turpitude and moral turpitude is no less a criminal offense than other form of vice, whether it be prostitution or all the other degrading acts. I take it seriously. The community demands that we all do, and it is my responsibility to assure that you feel that responsibility in the punishment I assign. With that in mind, I am sentencing to no less than one year of probation in a civil capacity.”

And with that she banged her gavel.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Don’t worry. You won’t have to be on probation for a full year.”

My lawyer handed me a handkerchief which I took and dabbed at my eyes out in the hallway of the courthouse.

“That was so humiliating,” I said.

I looked up at my attorney. He was staring at my chest with a gawky lusty fascination. My nipples were standing out like two number one erasures. It only made me feel even more scandalous and objectified. It was a byproduct of having worked in a sexually inclined setting for so long. I was 30, and had been a dancer since I was 19. Sometimes for reasons I couldn’t explain or even entertain, sometimes even when I was embarrassed or mildly shocked or even outraged, I would have a bewildering little physical reaction. My brain and sensibility would be saying NO, but my body would be giving telltale signs of response.

Such was the case just then and my lawyer was transfixed. If Judge Humphreys had sentenced me to Cirsei’s walk of shame in Game of Thrones, I couldn’t feel more utterly exposed, ashamed, and vulnerable.

“Uh, if you just do the probation and get good reviews, meaning you show up on time and do the work, you get the requisite signature, then you’ll be done 3-6 months. In the meantime, you can keep dancing and making a living. All in all, I have to say,” he said to my chest, “I think it went pretty well.”

That was it. I was a probationary sentenced, morally yozgat escort compromised person according to the court system. That night as I got ready to go into the club to work, I found myself feeling very angry but also resigned to my new status. Tossing an array of g strings and tops into my shoulder bag, I slipped on a casual track suit. It’s what most of us wore to drive in to the club. There was no point in putting on anything under.

I’d be nearly naked in a half hour anyway. I slipped on a pair of sneakers and a baseball cap with the bill down to hide my face and drove over to Totally.

Now, for some time I had perfected the maximum earning maneuver. I’d cultivated some regular customers, guys that liked me and that I could handle and liked well enough, and who had money. I let them know when I would be working and then when we connected, I’d slip the DJ a tip to manage to keep me off the main stage so I could head back to the VIP section and triple my earnings. It wasn’t as sordid as it sounds. I didn’t fuck anyone. As the club was topless, in VIP for a regular, I would pull down the g string or bend over and sidecar – that is, pull the thong off to the side and show what no other customers got to see. In some cases, if the guy was funny or cute or really financially motivated, I might also do an extra.

So, before you judge me, let me just say anyone who works at a club and says she never did an extra for a customer is lying. Everyone does. The strip club environment is so competitive and sexually charged that at some point to maintain a relationship with a patron, you have to do something. In my own case, I kept it to oral at the most. That night I had a regular, a nice older widower who liked to tip heavily and was very polite and decent.

“So, I heard you had some drama in here the other night,” he said sitting back in the little semi private booth as he watched me sway and dance and teasingly pull at my bottoms.

“Yes,” I sighed. My displeasure was evident.

“Hope you have a good lawyer.”

“I have an expensive one,” he said humorlessly.

The truth was that about half my savings were going to that creep. Unlike most dancers, I didn’t have a drug problem and I saved my money, but this was right about the time of the big stock crash and my portfolio had all but disappeared. With the legal bills, I was in a sad state.

“Well, maybe I can help,” he offered.

I knew what was coming and felt a little disadvantaged, but I smiled. “Oh?”

He dug down in his pocket and pulled out a wad of twenties.

“Well, there is something I have always wanted.”

I braced myself.

“Oh?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, well…so I would really like a tantric massage from you.”

“Oh, uh” I sputtered. I had stopped dancing with my g string about half on.

“Yes,” he said sounding embarrassed. “I don’t mean here of course, but I mean I was thinking we could do it at my place. Private. I would pay you…in cash here, in advance. Just uh then you could come over.”

I thought about the five-thousand-dollar retainer I had shelled out, and the other five due at the end of my case along with the per hour bill that I knew was coming from my attorney.

“I’d pay you whatever you wanted,” he said.

I could see the outline and shape of his growing penis starting to form against his slacks.

“I haven’t actually done something like that,” I said.

“Oh, that’s okay. I have a book, a guide. It has pictures. You could just follow that.”

He didn’t understand that I wasn’t referring to tantric which I also hadn’t done. I meant sex with a regular. Still, he was a harmless guy. Totally safe. Danger wasn’t my worry. Dropping to a new sexual low was. Even so, I looked at the monster wad of money. The guy was rich, and I was in a tough spot.

“How much was your retainer?

“Five thousand,” I said only thinking of the first installment. I was just sure he was going to recoil at the number.

“I could do that,” he said shocking me.

“Uh, okay.” The words just sort of escaped me involuntarily and I realized my areolas had crinkled and my nipples were standing at attention.

“Great,” he said counting out the bills. “How about you come over about noon tomorrow?”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

On the drive over I tried not to think about what I was going to do. He’s a nice, lonely man, I kept telling myself as I drove. The fact that the gated neighborhood I entered was one of the nicest in Houston, somehow made me feel like what I was headed over to do was a little less unsavory.

I pulled up at his house, then onto the very long drive way and parked. I had on my track suit with only a g string underneath as per his request. My big tits wobbled as I climbed out of my car and walked up to the door. Even as I rang the bell it opened. He must have been waiting zonguldak escort just inside. That was evident, as was the fact that all he had on was a robe.

“Hi Kim.” He knew my real name. It was a little something dancers did when they wanted to make a customer feel special. It sort of formed a little bond, a secret and it kept the guy from calling you Lexus or Mercedes or Crystal which was the name I used.

“Hi George (I’ll call him George in case anyone ever puts two and two together)” I said.

“Come on in, “he said.

I smiled and walked into the palace, which is exactly what it was.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“How about a Mojito?” He held up the one he was drinking as if to encourage me.

“Yes, please. Just make it strong.”

I was about to have sex, after a fashion, with a guy old enough to be my Dad, despite the fact that I hadn’t really known my Dad, and the alcohol was definitely going to be necessary.

He made me one that could have buzzed a rhino and handed me the chilled glass. I took a couple of big preloading swallows. It was a good idea.

He smiled and took me by the hand.

“I really appreciate you doing this,” he said. “I have been so lonely since my wife…” He trailed off.

I downed another big gulp. The drink was almost pure alcohol, and I could feel it already. That and my inherent sympathy made what was happening so much easier.

“Of course,” I said.

He smiled again and led me down a long tile hallway to a bedroom, apportioned like a professional spa, had a huge massage table in the center. Along a far wall was a table with several bottles of aromatic oils. I had to admit, everything about the room was very soothing from the aroma of the expensive oils to the muted lighting and gentle music that was playing. As I took it in and the environment and the powerful mojito continued to work, George slipped off his robe. It was an immediate reminder of the hard reason why I was there. Speaking of hard, George who was all of 5-9 and was a hairy little pear shaped one-hundred eighty pounds was sporting a very stiff thick cock that waggled above his hairy balls as he climbed up onto the table.

Once again, I sighed quietly in resignation. On the counter occupied by all the oils was a pictorial guide to tantric method. It was open to a section on lingam and the sacred place. The pictures showed a pair of female hands. One was working a large erect cock. The other was between the man’s buns and was clearly fingering deeply up his ass to get at his prostate.

I swallowed hard and my eyes closed momentarily in shame. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your perspective, there was the motivation of a building buzz, the five K he had given me, and most importantly, a strong sense of sympathy for a lonely man I had known for a couple of years already to help me along. I picked up a bottle of French Lavendar oil as he stretched out on his back.

“Oh, you’ll definitely want to take off your clothes,” he said. “If only to protect them against being stained by the oil.”

I nodded and set the bottle down. Then I unzipped my top and slipped it off. As I shared before, I was topless underneath and as my areolas and nipples were suddenly exposed to the air conditioning, they crinkled and pinged respectively.

“Oh my,” groaned George.

It suddenly dawned on me that he had only ever seen me in the softened, muting light of the strip club. This reveal was going to be in the raw light of day and every intimate detail of the both of us would be blatantly out there. Hook my thumbs in the waistband of my pants I bent over pulling them down.

“God, I love the way your big tits hang when you do that,” said George.

I looked at him and smiled reflexively. It was the exotic dancer go to move when a man commented on your otherwise private anatomy. As if conditioned, I gave my shoulders a little shake as I stepped out of my pants. My heavy boobs shook and bumped against each other.

“Oh yes,” he chuckled.

I smiled again and stood up. All I had on was a very small g string. George looked at it. He didn’t need to say a word. I knew what he wanted. Reaching down I unhooked the side clips and let it drop.

I had gone full shave a few times before but something about being a grown woman with no pubic hair at all always seemed odd to me, so right then, George was treated to a fully lit view of my very closely trimmed brown landing strip above my very shaved lips.

His eyes went immediately to it and his cock swelled with a slight extra surge of engorgement.

“Ohhhh yes,” he groaned. “I love how you groom. Could you…. Turn around for me? Bend over? It’s always so hard to see in VIP.”

I swallowed hard. Like I shared before, topless dancing had its stigma, but there really was a kind of distinction among dancers, at least in Texas, between keeping a thong on and pulling it off to reveal the most private areas. All-nude was definitely a lower class club and dancer. Letting a guy look at your pussy and butthole was something only a sexual partner, a true intimate partner was supposed to see. Sure, I had sidecarred and showed it in VIP, but as I was acutely aware, in that brightly lit room, the view was going to be way too detailed and memorable.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The following story is fiction. Any apparent connection to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of 18. These characters live in a world where there are no STDs or unwanted pregnancies.

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————

After two years of medical school in Missouri, my wife Meg and I were beginning a new stage of life. I had received my clinical rotation placement at Valley View Medical Center in southern Utah.

The transition from a student learning in books and labs to real patients in a clinical setting seemed both scary and exciting. Okay, I wasn’t going to be a real doctor, but now I was going to do real doctoring (with supervision) and I was excited for the possibilities. At the conclusion of my second year, I was inducted into the Arnold P. Gold Foundation Gold Humanism Honor Society. The pinning ceremony seemed so surreal. This was official. I had made it. Meg was so proud of me.

After the pinning ceremony, we had about a month before Meg and I would pack our things into a 10 foot U-Haul van and drive all the way to Cedar City, Utah. It would be a bittersweet month. Meg would have to say goodbye to the young women at church that she had gotten so close to. To be honest, I wasn’t too sad about leaving behind the primary children I had been teaching. I mean I love the little rats, but I won’t miss them.

The hardest part would be missing the friends we had come to love here — the members of our church congregation and our medical school peers and families — including Fayth and Tarbhan MacKenzie. Fayth came into med school the same time I did. We had been in the same classes, and she had been my study partner. I know that without Fayth, I would not have passed at least two critical exams.

My wife Meg was best friends with Fayth, doing everything together in their free time. They were ministering partners in church but did more for each other than they ever did for any of the old ladies in our congregation that they were assigned to visit.

As Meg and I experimented with and discovered our sexuality in new and often public ways, it was usually Fayth that kept Meg grounded, making sure she understood the risks and talking through the possible consequences. Through it all, Fayth and Tarbhan never took part in our sexual adventures.

There certainly were some sexual tensions between us all. It was inevitable. As Fayth and I studied together, often late into the evening, it was easy to get caught up in her physical beauty and intelligence. She worked out regularly and had almost no fat on her. Her hips and ass were perfectly proportioned, and I would be lying if I didn’t admit the thought of her pounding that ass on my cock had crossed my mind on several occasions.

Fayth’s best physical asset, in my humble opinion, is above her waist. She has the second most beautiful pair of tits that I’ve ever encountered (of course my wife’s are the best). Throughout our two years in school together, I’ve never actually seen Fayth’s breasts, though I had imagined them many times.

I would guess they are 34C maybe — substantial, with good cleavage, but not heavy. I’ve seen how they stand proudly tight with just a hint of wiggle when she exercises. I’ve also seen her nips trying to poke through her sports bra, and wondered how hard those nipples must be to push out so far against the tight fabrics designed to hold them nice and compressed.

She usually wore loose-fitting clothes when not working out, but I’ve seen her dress up every Sunday and on special occasions with the perfect amount of cleavage showing and curves that turned plenty of heads — but never enough exposure to be indecent.

Tarbhan was no less impressive. I’ve actually seen more of him than Fayth — because I’ve seen him change in the dressing room. Like Fayth, he has an athletic build. His chest has almost no hair on it, and his abs are clearly defined, though not grotesque. His penis had some distance to it, hanging at least a couple of inches below his balls when he took a shower in the locker room. I imagine when he gets that thing hard, it can poke the cervix out of any woman. His name means “young bull” in Irish, and it wouldn’t take much for the length and breadth of that thing to fulfill his name.

Fayth’s clinical rotation placement was in South Carolina, and we were going to Southern Utah, so it seemed likely that this would be the last time we would get to be with our friends. A lot of tears were shed as we packed up our households over the last few weeks. We had a combined garage sale and sold off or donated most of our ordu escort belongings. Together, the four of us packed our apartment, and we helped them pack theirs.

Soon the time to load the U-Haul truck came … more tears were shed as a half-dozen men from our church showed up en masse to load our truck.

Tarbhan’s muscles were prominently on display in his sleeveless sweaty t-shirt. He had been particularly helpful lifting the heavy boxes and furniture, and Fayth’s organizational skills helped us keep the packing and loading going. It’s amazing how well she fit everything in the small truck — I was concerned it wasn’t large enough, but I was wrong.

They packing crew were done in less than 30 minutes, leaving us standing in an empty home. We ran the vacuum and carpet cleaner one more time, and finished wiping down the shelves and drawers — some final cleaning so we could get our full deposit back from our landlord. The hard work left us all a bit sweaty, the moisture giving the women a damp t-shirt look, and Tarbhan’s t-shirt was wet with his sweat.

Once everything was loaded and the apartment cleaned, we had one more night before turning in our apartment keys and driving off first thing in the morning. Since our beds and bedding were all packed with all our furniture, we saved out a few blankets and planned on sleeping on our living room carpeted floor the last night. Tarbhan ordered some pizza and we all sat there on the floor eating our final meal together, laughing at all the good times we had and crying at the end of our adventure together.

We were all sweaty from moving all the boxes and cleaning, but we had packed the towels, so we didn’t take a shower. As the evening faded into night, we knew it was soon time to say goodbye. Meg got up off the floor and gave Fayth a hug — a hug that lasted longer than usual because neither wanted it to end. Meanwhile, I gave Tarbhan a handshake hug.

Meg then gave Tarbhan a longer-than-usual hug while I gave Fayth a hug. I watched as Meg took a deep breath, taking in the musky smell of Tarbhan’s perspiration. She lingered there, soaking in his essence. At 5’10”, Meg was close to the same height as Tarbhan, their cheeks touching and Meg’s tits pressing into Tarbhan’s chest while they hugged.

As they loosened the hug, ready to let go, Meg said out loud — loud enough for everyone to hear — “Oh fuck it.” She then planted a kiss on Tarbhan’s lips. This was not a grandmother’s kiss goodbye. We could see Meg’s tongue diving into Tarbhan’s mouth as she pushed him back against the wall and leaned her right leg into his crotch — his hardening cock now pressing onto Meg’s thigh.

At first, I thought Tarbhan was stunned, but he was not resisting. He was fully participating in this attack, grinding on my wife with his hips and his lips as Meg inventoried his tonsils. She wrapped one leg around his and pulled him even tighter. He put his hand behind Meg’s head and held her head against his as he tongue-wrestled my wife.

Then Meg reached down and began grabbing Tarbhan’s hardening cock on the outside of his shorts. He responded by fondling Meg’s breast outside her t-shirt. A moan came from my wife.

Fayth covered her mouth in shock and looked at me. Meg hadn’t told anyone about her “fuck it” plans, but if I knew my wife, this had been rolling around in her brain for about two years. I just smiled at Fayth and shrugged my shoulders.

“Come sit over here by me and let’s see how far this goes,” I said.

She sat on the floor and scooted her back side beside me against the opposite wall from the performance our spouses were providing. At first, we just watched together as Meg and Tarbhan kissed and groped.

Then Meg dropped to her knees and in one quick motion pulled down Tarbhan’s shorts and underwear, putting his cock into full view. His hard cock exceeding my estimates — and Meg was enjoying every inch of it. She began kissing him on the tip while she grabbed the length of it with her hand and started stroking it. Tarbhan looked at his wife, who was sitting by me. He had a look combining both shock and extreme arousal. He leaned his head back against the wall looking up at the ceiling fan as Meg began sucking his cock further and further down her throat.

Fayth just stared. She didn’t say anything to stop them — and Tarbhan showed no interest in stopping, so they kept going.

I put my arm around Fayth’s shoulder, gently pulling her in closer. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She didn’t answer at first. I could tell her breathing was faster and her heart rate was picking up. Her face was flushed as she instinctively dropped her right hand to her chest, cupping her right breast. I put my hand over hers and gave it and her breast beneath a squeeze. She didn’t swat me away, so I thought we must be okay.

Then Fayth turned her head and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were fully dilated and wet — my first thought was tears, but then I thought maybe it was arousal. osmaniye escort She was staring into my eyes, and I reciprocated, ignoring the grunting coming from her husband across the room as Meg’s mouth worked on his cock. We both glanced across the room and could see that Meg got the whole thing down, deep into her throat and started bouncing up and down on Tarbhan. We could see the saliva leaking out of her mouth as her lips coaxed out the cum building up inside him.

Then Fayth answered my question with a gentle, “Yes.” She rotated her body so she was facing me, away from the line of sight to her husband. She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a gentle loving kiss, unlike what Meg had done to her husband. Her kiss had some tongue action, but again it was a loving embrace of each other’s tongue. There was no urgency or demanding any greater oral engagement. It was respectful and peaceful. Of course, I responded with a matching energy and embrace.

I closed my eyes while we were kissing, enjoying the affection of my study partner, when I felt a hand on my crotch. As I opened my eyes, I saw Fayth’s eyes open at the same time and knew our relationship was about to change. After two years of knowing each other, we had one last boundary to cross — right there in the empty apartment on the carpeted floor, with our spouses in the same room.

Fayth was facing me, but I could see the action across the room. Meg and Tarbhan were now both on the floor, with my wife on top of his lap. Meg’s shorts and t-shirt had been tossed aside so she was naked. Tarbhan was kneading and kissing Meg’s tits as she was trying to get his shirt pulled over his head, making him fully naked. When she succeeded, Meg pushed him flat on his back and moved her hips forward to place her pussy on his face.

Tarbhan instantly dove in — though I couldn’t see the action between my wife’s legs, it was clear from her moans that Tarbhan was licking and sucking her pussy perfectly. Meg then grunted out an orgasm, crying out, “Oh fuck, yes. Do it. Don’t stop.”

When Meg’s orgasm rang out, Fayth turned her head and laid it on my chest, one hand continuing to stroke my shorts while watching her husband eat out my wife. I slid one hand outside the front of her shorts, mirroring her earlier affection by gently stroking her crotch.

After several minutes watching the porn show across the floor I slid my hand inside her underwear, and was slowly sliding two fingers between her lips, pausing at the clit to give a slow and gentle pinch before making the return trip to her now increasingly moist vagina. Her moisture having lubricated my fingers, I began the return trip to her clit, repeating the motion continually was we watched our spouses.

For her part, Fayth had unzipped my shorts and pulled my cock out from inside. She was stroking me, but it was more casual than driven. It was like she was being nice to me but had no intention of making me come. She was more fixated on what was going on across the room — our spouses now naked and frantically aroused by each other.

Meg turned toward us and asked, almost a pleading voice, “Fayth, may I fuck your husband?” (Afterwards, I realized Meg didn’t ask me for permission. I can’t help but wonder what that means for our relationship.)

Fayth paused long enough to make me think she might say no. But she didn’t. She stared at her husband. He was wholly aroused, his eyes rolling inside his head as Meg lowered her body, sliding down until she was sitting on Tarbhan’s crotch. Her hand was holding his cock — ready to make direct pussy to cock contact once she had consent from his wife.

Fayth looked for him to say something, to stop them from breaking their vows for the first time in their marriage. But Tarbhan was so aroused I guess he didn’t see the concern in Fayth’s face. Finally, she simply nodded her head affirmatively.

Tarbhan looked at me and muttered something. I wasn’t sure what he said but figured out he was asking, “Is it okay if I fuck your wife?”

The two of them made eye contact. Fayth had tears in her eyes as they stared for what seemed like minutes — though it was probably only a few seconds. When Fayth broke eye contact with her husband, she turned to kiss me again — this time with the lust-filled animal enthusiasm my wife had shown a few minutes earlier.

For a brief second, I thought about saying no to Tarbhan’s request, but I had other thoughts spurting into my brain at that moment. I watched as Meg dropped her body down on Tarbhan’s cock and began sliding it between her labia lips.

Fayth, no longer looking, now dropped her mouth to my cock and began giving me an incredibly enthusiastic oral workover.

“Only if I can fuck Fayth,” I answered.

“Fuck, yeah,” Tarbhan said. I wasn’t sure he was saying yes to me fucking his wife or if he was just reacting to Meg’s grinding her pussy lips on his cock — a fraction of an inch from penetration.

When sinop escort I gave permission, Fayth stopped sucking me and looked up at me again — this time her eyes seemed to be asking if I loved her or if it was just going to be the same kind of animalistic fuck we were watching across the room.

I answered her with a gentle kiss on her forehead. I whispered to her, “You have been my light for the last two years, giving me hope when it seemed impossible to find. It would give me great pleasure to make love to you.”

Fayth moved around so she was sitting on my lap facing me — again turning away from looking at her husband. My now free and hard cock landing right on her crotch, but she wasn’t humping me. Instead, she curdled up in a ball, resting her head on my chest as we snuggled.

She wasn’t watching my wife and her husband — her eyes were closed. I just put my arms around her and held her close, protecting her from the pain of saying goodbye, the emotions of her husband cheating in front of her, the stress of their move across the country — all of it coming out in the stream of tears that leaked from her soul, wetting my chest. She wasn’t crying out loud, but in her private moment of suffering, her tears leaked from every pore. My penis softened as we moved from lust to love.

It was at that point that I decided to say one word — the safe word that Meg and I had chosen nearly two years ago. This was the word that we had agreed upon would immediately stop whatever sexual adventure was happening.

“Kumquat.” — I nearly yelled it, just to make sure Meg heard me.

Meg had positioned Tarbhan’s cock to enter her when I decided to say the word. She had just dropped down, taking his whole length deep inside her when she heard me. Meg looked at me with Tarbhan’s cock pushing against her cervix. “What did you say,” she asked, as Tarbhan’s hips instinctively lifted her up off the living room carpet to penetrate deeper.

“Kumquat.” Since I had Meg’s attention, I repeated the word at a more normal conversational voice. Just the one word.

Meg looked at me, and then at Fayth, then back to me. She looked at Tarbhan. She hesitated — I know she understood what I was saying, that I had invoked the safe word, but she was deciding what to do. She had a large cock literally inside her womb, and her vagina was instinctively squeezing Tarbhan. When he arched back, pulling partially out and then lifted his hip again, pushing into Meg as far as he could go, Meg instinctively pushed back against his movement — a second penetration.

I thought for a moment that she wouldn’t be able to not fuck him. Slowly, I saw the fog of lust lift from her eyes. This was the first time either of us had used the safe word and her brain had finally caught up to what was supposed to happen.

Meg leaned back, removing Tarbhan’s cock from inside her, a string of lubrication linking his cock and her pussy dripped out as she withdrew until the thin stream of fluid broke. I could see tears forming in her eyes. After a moment of recognition, she came over to sit with Fayth and I. Meg put her arms around Fayth and whispered to her best friend, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Please forgive me.”

Tarbhan wasn’t sure what was going on. He didn’t know about our safe word — all he knew was that he was inside my wife, literally fucking her, and then she left him hanging there ready to explode. He lay there on the floor masturbating while watching a naked Meg and his wife Fayth hug each other. He was so close to coming that he kept stroking even as he began to recognize what was happening on our side of the room.

Meg helped Fayth off the floor, grabbed a couple of blankets and her clothes as they left the room — going back to the empty master bedroom to talk. I couldn’t hear what they were saying because the door was closed.

Meanwhile Tarbhan continued jerking off and ended up shooting his load onto our freshly cleaned carpet. I wasn’t about to rent a rug cleaner a second time just for his cum, so I threw him a blanket and told him to clean it up himself. Let’s just hope our landlord doesn’t use blacklight when we check out in the morning.

I laid down with my blanket and tried to get some sleep. It wasn’t easy — even though we had a carpet, it wasn’t as soft as a bed, and my mind wondered what was going on in the back bedroom. Eventually I must have fallen asleep because at some point in the night I was awakened by Meg nudging my shoulder and whispering to come with her. She was fully dressed and wide awake.

I was a bit dazed but got up and went with her back to the master bedroom. Along the way, I glanced at Tarbhan, who was soundly sleeping, completely naked and exposed with the blanket gathered up for a pillow under his head, his cock pointing down at the carpet where he had left his stain.

When I got to the master bedroom, Fayth was exiting the bathroom. She took both of my hands and held them while she apologized for the whole situation.

“You know how much we care for you and Meg,” she said, still holding my hands.

“I do.”

“I’ve noticed how much you have enjoyed our study times together,” she continued. “I’ve seen you look at my tits when I’m exercising, and always walk behind me to stare at my ass.”

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Sorry, I’ve not been in touch for a while. I went on a two-week holiday to Tenerife and, do you know what, as nice as it was — and as nice as some of the young cock on display was — I found myself eager to get back to my little counter at the swimming pool. I was missing my boys and their cheeky cock flashes and the yellow Speedos…

I think I told you that we have an outside pool as well. Obviously, most of the year, no one uses it but in summer — even a bad summer like this one — it gets quite buzzy out there. It’s not very big, surrounded by grass, which people come and put towels out on, laze around, sunbathe, have a dip. They can take stuff from the café out there and I know that a few of the boys — ‘my’ boys — take vodka hidden in those water bottles they all carry. I can smell it on them.

And it turns out I’ve created a whole generation of show-offs. Even though University is over for the year, the water polo team seem mostly to still be around. They come at lunchtime, have their little spot where they all join their towels together to make an area for themselves and spend the day dipping in and out of the water, drinking and sunbathing in the little yellow Speedos, even though they could wear what they want. And you know how those Speedos, now I’ve cut the linings out of them or got them to cut them out, go transparent when they’re wet, which means we basically have a group of young lads laying on the grass by the pool with their cocks and their balls and their arses on full display.

And that has meant that the ladies of the aquarobics class have taken to sitting out there on their own towels looking across at all the young bodies on display. It’s actually a very sexy atmosphere: a group of teenage and twentysomething lads, all in great shape, showing off for a bunch of women in their 50s, 60s and beyond. When the lads get out of the water, they always do it right in front of the aquarobics girls, just so they can give them an eyeful of their beautiful bodies. You can see the ladies, all their eyes on whoever is getting out of the water.

Obviously, especially after a few drinks, the boys interact with them a little. Go over and crouch down for a little chat, knowing full well that the women are looking at their cocks in the Speedos, the water dripping from their balls, and knowing that having those female eyes on them almost always gives them hard-ons so you see them stand up and come back to the group smiling and readjusting hard cocks in the Speedos while the other guys laugh at them.

Even the manager has noticed. He said to me the other day, ‘Have you noticed we seem to have a group of basically naked young men out there creating quite a show, Marianne?’ Then he smiled and just went, ‘Of course you have. You’re probably behind it.’ But he’s happy. Well, why wouldn’t you be when you know that all you have to do to get your cock sucked is call Marianne to the office?

I could get a little jealous that I’m having to work while the aquarobics ladies get to spend the day enjoying cock that I’ve organised for them but the boys are still very much mine and make a point of coming over to me to let me see and maybe have a feel even though I’m supposed to be working.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you about one day last week when two or three people were off on their holidays so we were all supposed to be mucking in. I never have to do any cleaning but during one of our sessions — I do love the manager’s shaved cock, you know that — I said, maybe stupidly, that I didn’t mind if he was short.

I don’t know if you’ve seen on some men’s toilets signs that say, ‘Male and female attendants work in this area’, just to give the guys kırşehir escort a heads up that a woman might be walking in while they’re taking a piss. Well, we have one of those at the pool, which means Marianne might be walking in on you when you have your cock out.

So, it wasn’t that busy at the pool and I was covering my counter and a bit of cleaning, including the changing rooms, male and female. My boys were making fun of me, making sure they were in the changing rooms whenever I came in with my mop and bucket, jumping in the shower to soap themselves down and get full hard-ons for me to look at and sometimes play with and generally be their cheeky selves. But this one day, they were all out on the grass showing off their cocks to the oldies so I thought I’d take the opportunity to go in and just give the toilets in the changing rooms a bit of a go over.

I know a lot of women are a bit squeamish about going into men’s bathrooms, what with the smell of urine and everything but I don’t mind. Our toilets are actually quite clean besides there’s something quite sexy about that smell as long as it’s not too strong. And I’ve always loved the idea of men standing side by side with their cocks out having a wee. Most women find it weird that you would go to the loo in front of other people, but I happen to find it a bit of a turn on.

Anyway, so I went into the loos, thinking they were empty, but there was actually a man in there in his swimming shorts having a wee. ‘Oh, sorry,’ I said when I saw him there, mid-stream. And yes, of course I looked down. The guy was older than my usual — maybe in his 30s — quite muscular, dark haired and quite dark skinned, which made the white of his teeth really pop when he smiled at this old lady ambling in while he was mid-wee.

‘That’s quite alright,’ he laughed, carrying on with his piss, and seemed so cheerful and unperturbed about the whole thing that I thought I’d be cheeky back. I walked over, stood beside him and looked to see his cock as it pissed. ‘Well, that looks quite nice,’ I said, looking down at the cock, which was huge. Circumcised, thick, quite a bit of dark pubes, his balls over the waistband of his shorts seemingly shaved, this was a very big cock indeed and I have seen a few. I looked back at his face. He beamed.

‘Well, I’m glad you like it,’ he laughed. ‘But if you carry on looking at it, I won’t be able to finish.’ I took another look, feeling his bicep in an over-familiar way, shook my head in disbelief and went back to my bucket.

A couple of moments later, as I started to mop around the sinks, thinking that was just a nice little interlude and that would be it, I heard him say, ‘Finished now…’, looked around and he was standing there, that big cock still hanging over the top of his swimming shorts, looking at me and smiling.

‘Do you need me to shake the drops off?’ I asked smiling back.

‘Well, that might be helpful, seeing as you’re providing the full service…’

So I went over to him, he stood back at the urinal and I stood slightly behind him and reached around to touch it. It immediately thickened and, him being taller than me, he started to grind his arse into my stomach a little. We stood like that for a bit, his backside in my belly, my hand stroking his hardening cock, feeling his smooth balls, my other hand stroking his flat, slightly hairy belly. Anyone could have walked in but I wasn’t really thinking about that.

After a few minutes of that, I said to him, ‘Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private?’ I don’t know whether he thought I meant an office or something but I just went over to one of the stalls malatya escort — I’d cleaned it earlier so I knew it was OK — and went in, holding the door open for him. He looked around the room — even though we obviously knew there was no one there — and joined me. We closed the door and it was obviously quite close in there. And then — and this was a surprise — he leaned down and kissed me. This beautiful guy in his 30s was probing his muscular tongue into my mouth while his hand massaged one of my breasts.

Now that his shorts were around his ankles, his cock was hard and long and thick and standing up between us, pressed against my belly. When he pulled away, he was still smiling, clearly finding the whole experience amusing. ‘So you must be Marianne,’ he said. I looked down to see if I was wearing my name badge but I wasn’t.

‘I am, but how did you know?’

He pointed at the wall. There was a bit of grafitti that just said ‘Marianne sucks good cock. All you have to do is ask…’ I laughed. ‘Well, it’s nice to have a reputation,’ I said.

‘But I’m not going to take this person’s word for it,’ he smiled, looking back at the grafitti. ‘I want to find out for myself.’

I closed the toilet seat and sat down, which meant that huge hard cock was right in my face. I could feel my heart beating at the prospect of it and took a moment just to look at it, just take it in. It was hard, so hard I could see the blood beating through it, with fairly prominent veins meandering all over it. And long. I’m not all about size but this must have been eight inches or so… and thick. But it was the head that I couldn’t take my eyes off. A perfect helmet, a beautiful browny-pink colour with a perfect teardrop of precum at the pee-hole. I leant forward and gently licked the pearl from the tip and looked up into his smiling face.

I wanted to savour this moment so to start with I just licked it. Looking up at him, I spread my tongue all over the head, dipped it into the pee hole, teased him while my hand gripped the shaft, which was so thick my fingers didn’t meet around it. He was throwing his head back a little, his hands on his hips, enjoying what I was doing but desperate for more. ‘Please…’ he said.

I opened my mouth and took the head right in and sucked it, sloshed my tongue around it as I felt him try to get more of it in there. I felt a hand take the back of my head as he started to push his cock further down my throat while the other hands tarted to undo the top buttons of my overall. I put my hand up to stop him.

‘Let me see your gorgeous tits while you suck me,’ he said, a bit of desperation in his voice. His cock still in my mouth, I let him continue until he opened my overall, leant down to scoop my bra under my breasts and stood back to look at them jiggling as I sucked him. We were getting lots of eye contact, his hands were on my head, either the back of it, pulling it onto him or on my face, stroking my cheek, taking my chin in his hand.

And it wasn’t just the head of his cock that I was enjoying, getting it wet and sticky with my saliva. I was licking the long, veiny shaft, pressing it against my face; licking the smooth balls all while holding his heavy buttocks in my hands.

‘Your tits are amazing,’ he said, looking down beyond my greedy cock-sucking mouth to my fat white tits which were swinging as I worked on him. Oh, I thought, a tits man. They are quite good breasts, I must admit. They hang a bit low — well, I am in my late 60s — but they’re big and white and fairly unwrinkled.

I touched the tip of his cock to one of my nipples. He groaned. There was a droplet of precum, niğde escort which I rubbed on my nipple then rubbed his cock on it. More groaning. I did the same with the second nipple and looked up to see his face intent on what was going on. Then, dribbling some saliva onto his cock, I shuffled forward on the toilet seat and put his cock between them, moving it gently up and down in the sticky spit. This was almost too much for him. I pushed my breasts together and felt his balls against my heart as he fucked my tits, the tip emerging up towards my throat with each thrust.

Then, looking up at his face, screwed up in ecstasy at the feeling of his cock between my tits, I spotted another face. James was looking over the top of the stall, watching me working this beautiful stranger. He caught my eye and just raised his eyebrows. Then on the other side, Jamie. Watching, no doubt wanking, as I used my tits to work this guy, who was about ten or fifteen years older than them. Rather than be annoyed at this invasion of our privacy, it actually turned me on to think I had an audience.

‘Do you want to cum like this?’ I whispered to the guy who now had his hands over my hands and was pressing my breasts tighter together around his cock.

‘Oh, yeah… I’d love to,’ he panted and continued to slide the cock almost aggressively in between my tits, faster and more urgently, his teeth grinding with lust, his face screwed up and then, on an upstroke, the sperm was released. The spurt was so violent it hit me in the face as did the second spurt and the third until my whole face was dripping. The rest went on my breasts and, using his cock, he directed some of it between them so that he could carry on tit-fucking me, the strokes getting slower as little shudders ran through his body.

I looked past him to the two faces over the toilet stall, smiling, looking at my cum-splattered faced and giving me looks as if to say, ‘Fuck, Marianne, you’re good…’ Eventually they disappeared, before this guy could catch them having spied on him cumming all over me. He withdrew his cock from between my breasts, smiled that big gorgeous smile of his and got some toilet paper and began to dab his sperm off my face.

‘Don’t take all of it,’ I said. ‘I want to taste you…’ So he drove a bit of the sperm towards my mouth with his finger so I could enjoy it then leant down to give me another deep kiss.

‘Mmm, salty,’ he grinned then pulled up his shorts and tried to get that softening but still huge penis back inside them. Then peeping out of the door to make sure there was no one in the bathroom, he kissed his finger, put his finger to my lips and whispered, ‘See you on the other side.’

I heard the door to the bathroom shut, waited a moment then came out myself. The other two doors were closed so I knocked on them simultaneously. They opened almost simultaneously and, as I had thought, James and Jamie were in there, wanking.

‘Oh god, Miss, that was hot,’ said Jamie, wanking his beautiful cock furiously.

‘It really was, Miss,’ said James, also really going for it. ‘When he came in your face…’ And he came himself, all over the floor. I stepped towards him to help him with the last few spurts then I heard Jamie say, ‘Me too, Miss,’ as he started to cum, partly up the partition, partly on the floor. I did the same with him, taking his cock in my hand to feel the last couple of spurts.

‘Thanks Miss,’ he said. ‘Shall I clean all this up…?’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said, as he put his cock back into the almost see-through Speedos. ‘I’ll do it.’ And the pair of them left. I went to my bucket, got my mop and, much as I hate to waste good sperm, mopped up the blobs they had left behind.

A few minutes later, just as I was about to leave, all floors — and both breasts — cleaned up, I took out the pen I always carry in my overall pocket and went back into the middle stall. On the grafitti that said ‘Marianne sucks good cock…’ I added my phone number.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

“KNOX? How did you get inside my house?”

“What good is locking your downstairs doors if your pervert son leaves his balcony door open?” Knox Hardecker smirked at Kelly Herbert as she stood naked in her doorway. Having just walked in from the most incredible experience she had ever had with Mace Belmont. Thinking herself safe and sound in her own home she was sadly mistaken. With Knox standing in her living room, his friends Neo and Dillon seated on her sofa. Both with shit eating grins as they poised their cellphones to share their video footage, Kelly slightly cringed. This was not going to go her way.

“This is breaking and entering Knox.”

“Oh, that comes once you take us upstairs.” He gets cocky. “No more Mace or that MMA bitch to defend you Slave Girl. No Furlong, no Master, no Mister McKellen. It’s just you, me, and my buddies here. Oh! Got your cellphone.” He wagged her phone in front of her. “Nobody called you… but I did call my number with yours so now I have your number. You change the number or block me I ruin your credibility with the bodybuilder.”

“Yeah and we show Perbert what Mommy is doing while he’s at school.” Dillon chuckled. “I bet he’d love you all tied to Belmont’s bumper. You looked like you loved that hitch up your twat.”

“That true Mrs. Herbert?” Knox winced through his two black eyes. “You have to tell the truth… that’s in your freaks programming right? I have good ears.”

“Yes. It was fun.” She admitted. “If you have good ears you know I am forbidden to let you touch me Knox.”

“That doesn’t apply to them though.” He casts a thumb toward his boys. “You didn’t tell Belmont we were watching you two. Why is that?” He moves up to her side and guides her into her living room with a generous palm on the small of her back. “Here! You just get down on your knees and tell us all about it.” She refused shaking her head negatively until Neo chimed in.

“On your knees Mommy.” She had to comply; Dominic had not told her to disobey anyone other than Knox. Down she went, the boys nodding at her loyalty. “I bet your big boy Master doesn’t know about yesterday either, does he?” He plays the recording of her masturbating on the sidewalk, her moans chilling her soul.

“No. If I tell Dominic… he will hurt all of you. Be thankful I care enough to keep you out of traction.”

“What do you think ole’ Travis will say when he finds out you fucked his buddy Belmont?”

“I am certain he will be very hurt.”

“We don’t have to tell him.” Knox pointed out, “You don’t tell Hulk Hogan, we won’t hurt Travis.” He strangely appeared sincere dropping to take a seat in front of her Indian style, legs crossed, back to her loveseat. “I’ve studied you ever since you hooked up with him. I get the lifestyle and the devotion stuff, but I also know you’re terrified that Travis is going to be hurt. Still might! He gets on everyone’s nerve to be honest.”

“You will use me and still make my son’s life hell. I’m not naïve Knox.”

“Just sexy as fuck.” Neo chimed in, now circling behind her to check out her ass. “What’s with the little poke holes all over your body?”

“Her Master fucked her on a bed of thorns. I told you that over the phone Moron.”

“Oh, right! I forgot. I was wondering about that when I recorded you fingering yourself yesterday. Thought she got Tabitha Martin’s measles.” He chuckled.

“Sit the fuck down, Pryor.” Knox rolled his eyes, which actually hurt due to his bruised areas around the lids. Neo plopped down right behind Kelly and teased her ponytail. She remained calm under the conditions. “Anyways… you’re in a tough situation Mrs. Herbert. You don’t want to tell that Dominic guy about yesterday, today for that matter. After fucking Belmont, you can’t tell Trav or ruin a perfectly good friendship either. Might put a strain on Trav’s relationship with Sable too. My gut says she won’t stay with him long anyways. I see how she acts around Belmont even. She’s too fucking hot to be with Travis and now that her braces are out, she’s realizing guys pay more attention to her now. I give them three months tops before he bawls his eyes out on your shoulder.”

“You do not know that.” Still, even Kelly had witnessed Sable drooling over Dominic. He had no vested interest in the girl so it was harmless. At least she hoped not, but regardless as a slave committed to Dominic she would have nothing to say if he did. Until that day, if ever, she would not think too hard on it. He owned her body and soul until released.

“Guess not for sure, but we’ll see. Our eyes are peeled. My boys here have them open in case she messes up. Let’s get back to you, shall we? There’s more to you not wanting to tell this Dominic guy about us than protecting Trav… and as you say our health. I want to know what that is?”

“I do not know what you mean.” She attempted to avoid admitting her own desires now that Mace Belmont had stimulated something sorely missing within her. The bondage moves in riding his trucks ball hitch made her crazy inside. Her eyes betrayed her.

“Big tokat escort guy isn’t giving you everything you need is he? That why Mister McKellen is hanging out here? You tapping him too? Don’t lie!”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. M know?” Dillon jumped in.

“I do not believe so. That is not my problem.”

“Yeah, Josie can’t say much she’s tapping the Coach. Others I hear.” Neo stroked her ponytail.

“Wonder what Henry would say if he knew Belmont fucked you today? Think he’d tell Dominic?”

“Perhaps! They are friends. My master knows Henry and I play together.” She didn’t want to let these punks in on Henry as her secondary Master. “My master would understand should he learn of Mace as well.”

“Would he understand Mace tying you to the back of his truck endangering you if you were to fall off and get drug down the street?”

“I am to please any and all men no matter the risk.” She slips up.

“Except for me.”

“Yes! I will never obey you.”

“Even to protect Travis?” Knox sits forward to look her in the eye. Her answer did not come. Defiance was not in her conditioning, yet she did fear for her son. “No matter, there’s ways around that. Right Neo?”

“Yep! Hey Mrs. Herbert? I want you to crawl over there and kiss Knox on the lips. French him even. I want to see that.” Dillon agreed with a, “Me too.” This was for them, not Knox. Confused she simply went forward on her hands and knees and crawled between Hardecker’s now parted legs. Without even thinking about it she pressed her lips against his and sucked face with passion. Knox accepted it and enjoyed the moment.

Dillon adding to Neo’s command told her, “I’d love to see you crawl into his lap and gyrate your pussy over his dick. Do it Mrs. Herbert.” Again, she listened and straddled Hardecker’s lap, he now placing his arms around her waist and rubbing her back. Moving her thighs back and forth over him she felt how hard he was getting and moaned. The guys were grinning like Devils. They had control over her just like Knox had told them. Dude was genius!

Her cell pinged from a text as it rested on the carpet. Hearing it Neo reached over to check it out. “It’s Travis. He’s asking if she’s coming to pick him up from school.”

Kiss broken Knox licked her lips then told Neo, “Text back and say get a ride home I have a headache. Well, my head aches.” He challenged her. “Don’t write that last part Pryor.”

“Duh!” He almost did. DUHmbass! “He says ok.”

“Gives us more time together now, doesn’t it Beautiful?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope!”

“Text my son and remind him to mow the yard first thing.” She leered back at Neo. He wasn’t certain if that was some code or if she was serious. A shrug from Knox he did. A reply of, “I didn’t forget.” They felt safe.

“Type back and tell him I’m going to drug up and lay down.” Knox added. “Oh, and don’t disturb me.” Neo wrote it then showed it to Knox for confirmation as to how he phrased it. A nod the text was sent. Travis wrote back, “And the mower won’t? LOL! Sorry! Feel better Mom.” They left it at that. She nearly giggled at her son’s jest. It would have been bad timing though! Then they would know this did not bother her as much as she led on.

“Let’s take this to the floor for awhile.” Knox pushed forward carrying Kelly to her back. Relieved of his lap she expected him to unzip his jeans but he didn’t. “Finish what you started on the sidewalk. You need to show us how horny you are.”

“I’m always horny.” Yeah, that helped Kelly. The programming her past Master, now Dominic she had an extreme difficulty in distinguishing right from wrong. Both Master’s used her to perform and engage sexually. While Dom really hadn’t shared her much within the confines of his six months of ownership, he often talked about it. That standing order to tease, and seduce literally any man, or woman for that matter who directly hinted at more was ironclad in her spirit. With Dominic as busy as he was between his jobs as a Dancer, Fitness Trainer, and paying her bills he rarely had time to take her out to achieve those set rules. Sure she took walks but not much came her way besides men waving at her. That was what made Mace Belmont special in her eyes. He offered her what Dom or Henry couldn’t. While he wasn’t her Master, Mace could easily be for short periods if he so desired. She would never tell the boy no. It was inevitably his decision. The boys here and now were vile creatures but she set aside that fact to protect her Sires.

“Stay that way.” Knox grinned, “24/7! I have your number so when I text or call… you obey.”

“Wait Bro…” Dillon pointed out, “If she can’t obey you, I need her number too in case she refuses you.”

“She won’t refuse me any more. She knows what we can crush if she does. What I can destroy. Right Mrs. Herbert?”

“Yes.” She spoke up to him from the carpet, her fingers rubbing her clit. “It must be worded better.” She looks to Dillon. “Tell me I must obey Knox on a recording.” She knew it was a yozgat escort stupid thing to do but it might save her if they did show Dominic how they suckered her. In her mind it was a security measure. All she did was put herself in their hands and hoped for the best. Dillon did just that and told Kelly on video, “You have to obey all men as your big as fuck Master told you. He forbids you to obey Knox, but I override that. We all do. You will obey Knox Hardecker or suffer the consequences. Is that understood you fucking slut?” Over the top but effective.

“Yes! Forgive me, Master.” She pouted but rubbed her pussy with a vigorous friction. “I do this for you Sir. To protect my son.” That should save her ass from Dominic as long as they didn’t edit the video. Puckers all around Knox took her fingers and encouraged them into her vulva. Deeper the better.

“Look me in the eye when you cum.” Knox lifted her legs up and wider then retreated his hands but kept them up as if demanding she stay poised like a horny angel. He even went so far as to tilt her feet outward, toes down like he had often seen online from girls in Chaturbate. Eyes glued on his, she began panting heavily, the boys around her gripping the crotches of their pants. She knew her actions would lead to intercourse over time. If not today, then very soon.

She couldn’t even call this rape although manipulated, she was more than willing. The video oversight should save her in Dom’s eyes if it came to that. If not, she would simply start from scratch with another Master. Her son would be on his own soon enough once he graduated in six months, so, she would be free to fend for only herself. She prayed it would not lead to her dismissal.

“Her nipples are getting harder.” Neo chuckled leaning in to pinch one. Her eyes never once left Hardecker’s even at the hard pinch, not even a blink. Knox was impressed.

“Four fingers!” Knox told her, she including another knuckle deep within her. The juices were flowing over her ass gap and to the carpet. Shampooing the rug was now on her list of household chores. In three minutes she exploded, her cunt firing a mass amount of fluids across Knox Hardecker’s knees. The audience of three were blown away by her shrill cries of, “I MUST!”

“Daaaamn!” Neo sighed. “You should do that on our cocks.”

“If it would please you, I cannot say no.” Nor technically did she want to at this point. Being overpowered even mentally was such a turn on. Her choice of lovers not her first but again that was not for her to determine. Blame it on Dominic. Blame the lessons of her former boss Martin Grimes.

“We better go Knox.” Dillon looked out the window behind him, “Trav will be home sometime here soon.”

“Crawl to your bedroom.” Knox snapped his fingers. “MOVE!”

Mmm! She loved that tone of voice. Rolling to her hands and knees she prowled seductively toward her staircase. All three boys stood and followed behind her whistling and making wolf call commentary. Everything from, “Move that sweet MILF ass.” to “Dibs on her first BJ.” and finally, “I might try my first anal conquest on that tight little pucker.”

Knox laughing at Dillon told him, “I don’t know how it could be tight. I’ve seen her Master’s big ass cock through her bedroom window. That fucker has to stretch her out.”

All the way up the stairs she made it quite aware that she needed to turn up the heat as Dominic would say. Halfway up she paused to shake her butt at them and giggle. A slap to her cheek sent her the rest of the way up. She distinctly heard, “She wants this Bro.”

“That true Mrs. Herbert?” Knox asked.

“What I want does not matter. I live to serve. I merely follow my Master’s directions.”

“Don’t you ever suggest he change those orders Bitch.” Neo threatened. “We own you when he’s not around.”

“I will say nothing if it keeps my son safe, and my Master from doing something horrible to you.” She hoped in a way the fear would eventually spook them into no further days like this, but she knew Knox was stubborn. She would likely have to endure a few more times like today. It had only started.

Leading them to her bedroom she reached the foot of her bed and sat up on her calves, awaiting her next command. Looking behind her she only found Neo and Dillon. Both boys exploring her bedroom, literally going through drawers in her dresser and sniffing underwear like complete idiots. In her thoughts she asked herself, “And they call my son a pervert?”

Knox, not present made her wonder where he went. Noting Trav’s bedroom door open Knox took a detour to survey how his nemesis lived. Peering out his French doors to survey over the fence to Piper’s house he saw Rotten laying in the shade. Within the living room he spotted Mace Belmont eating lunch and watching TV. Nothing special!

A glance between houses he did see Henry McKellen coming home from his meeting at Calculated RisQ, the gaming company he worked for. Not far behind he recognized another car a Prius. “I think that’s Mahcarti.” zonguldak escort Seeing Sable get out of the backseat door it was obvious the Teacher had given she and Travis a ride home. No Dakota though, interesting. He had no idea she was off on an adventure riding with Angus Furlong. Chandra pulling away, Knox knew he needed to isolate. Leaving Trav’s bedroom as it was, he went into Kelly’s room and shut the door. Locking it he told his buddies Trav would be here in a few minutes and to stop talking, minimal whispers.

Having ordered Kelly into her bed Neo had found her trio of toys, the molded dildos of Dominic Black’s real penis in every detail from this fist like crown to the array of veins which proved that even his cock had muscles. Commanding her to use one on her pussy Kelly set out introducing it, her cunt ripped wide by its behemoth girth. “Balls deep every time.” Dillon ordered filming her use it. Knox watched but reminded not only Neo and Dillon to whisper, but for Kelly to contain her moans until Trav was outside mowing. Hard to do when her pussy was on fire at picturing her Master inside her. These dildos being him it was a fact.

Neo wanting more from her tossed her a second toy, “This should help keep you quiet. Suck on that bad boy. Deep throat every time.” Mmm! She adored sucking her master’s cock. No tonsils to prevent such a command Kelly had no problem fighting to swallow the silicone based God.

While she nurtured her lust, they heard the front door open, and Travis enter. Snack before the yardwork he didn’t bother his mom. Good boy! The goon squad snickered over their good fortune. Kelly was becoming obsessed with her toys to the brink of lost time. Hell yeah! Neo and Dillon both needed release so crawled into bed around her quietly and pulled their dicks out. Both boys feeble at a mere five inches each they jerked off exploring her emotional journey. While Knox wanted to join them he knew he needed to maintain control in case Trav did come upstairs and go to his room.

Sure enough he heard Travis on his cellphone obviously talking to Sable McKellen hearing him tell her, “Wear something sexy when you come over. Fashion show? Sure, let me go upstairs to the balcony. You can change in your bedroom window for me. I’ll tell you what outfit I like.” Laughing he hurried upstairs his footfalls like thunder. Passing Kelly’s room the guys had to hold their mouths’ to avoid laughing. This was hilarious.

Hearing the French door opening was simple enough, Trav’s voice carrying as he talked to Sable. Knox eying Kelly saw that she was so into her performance that she wasn’t any trouble outside of low level moans and her body tensing up. Moving his attention from her he parted the curtain on the window facing the backyard. A clear shot directly at Sable McKellen’s bedroom window he saw the girl dancing naked for Travis.

“Holy fuck!” Knox thought keeping her actions to himself. “I’m going to fuck that little bitch sometime. I don’t care how but I will make that happen.” For a very brief moment he recalled standing outside his ex-girlfriend Lily Kramer’s bedroom, she dancing naked just like Sable. He missed Lily but knew that he would never get her back. Sable was a cheerleader now so prime target. “Someday soon you’re going to cum on my cock and beg for more Sable. Mark my words.” Mock maybe!

Giving up on Sable he turned his attention back on the bed. Eying that third monster dildo he grinned. Lube on her bedside stand he plucked up the toy and coated it with gel. Nudging Dillon aside to climb in between her legs Knox coaxed her limbs upward. The boys seeing the opportunity helped guide her legs further back, allowing her dildo insertions to plunge straight down into her cunt. Kelly was fucking herself hard, her constricted moans concealed with Dominic’s facsimile plunging just as deep down her arched throat.

Knox pressing the third dildo up to her anus it slid in with force. Once occupying her cavity, he fucked her ass with it. The guys were ferocious in their masturbation seeing her taking three huge cocks like she was. Porn star come true in their eyes; Kelly was just that stacked in every asset. How could she be Perbert’s mommy? Lucky bastard!

“Shhhh!” Knox told Kelly as her tone increased. Three big bastard toys in her at once was hounding her hormonal Richter scale. It was becoming harder not to vocalize her ecstasy. Even harder when Neo stopped his jerking and stretched out next to, leaning over her right breast he swallowed her nipple and chuckled, his thoughts lending to, “I’m so going to fuck Perbert’s mommy.” Wait your turn! Dominic had top priority. All three versions of him. Technically, Dom was bigger than all three of them combined.

Dillon unable to contain himself closed his eyes and nutted on her other breast, his jizz striking Neo’s brow ending his nipple fun to back away and growl, “DUDE!” Too loud Knox swatted at him to shut up. Knowing his error Neo grit his teeth but took her extra pillow to wipe his face. A fist shown to Dillon the boy apologized for his mistake without words. Climaxing hard Kelly flooded her bedding and Knox Hardecker’s arm. Leaving the dildo in her ass, Knox fanned his forearm about to toss off droplets. His rain pelted Dillon. Fair trade! That extra pillow was used by all three boys. Fucking stooges! HEY MOE!

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Cindy’s mouth hung open, Kathy shook her head and chuckled. Leslie clasped her hand over her mouth, but it didn’t hide the enormous grin on her face. Everyone turned to Cynthia for direction and Brenda sat back down.

“Tell you what,” Cynthia said to Steve as she stood back up which again communicated to everyone subliminally that she was in charge. “Why don’t you move your chair out of the way and pull over one of those bar stools by the counter.”

“I guess I should take off my shoes and socks,” Steve said somewhat absent-mindedly but making no move to do anything. He had submitted to the wiles of these women and now simply awaited instruction.

“No,” Cynthia said as she moved closer to him, “We’re really and truly going to strip you completely naked… Everything.” The ladies were giggling excitedly, “Come sit on the bar stool,” she directed. He situated himself on the bar stool and hooked his heels on the first rung connecting the four legs. “Perfect,” she said. “That will make it easier to get your shoes and socks off without making you fall.”

Steve leaned back feeling like he was cresting the top of a steep hill on a monster roller coaster. “How do we do this?” Cindy asked, feeling nervous, excited and lost as to what to do.

“We could all just jump in and take off whatever we can get our hands on, but if we do it like that, Cindy, I’m afraid you’ll stand back and watch,” which is exactly what she was thinking.

“I’ll take off his shoes and socks,” Kathy volunteered.

“I’ll help you!” Cindy said quickly, seeing that as the least awkward thing to do.

Cynthia smiled at Brenda and Leslie. “We can start with his shirt,” she said with a wink at Steve whose heart was pounding. I got dibs on unbuttoning it. Y’all undo the buttons on the cuff of his sleeves and then help me get it off of him. Ready? Lets do it.”

Kathy and Cindy crouched down and each took off a shoe and pulled off a sock. There was gleeful laughter and nervous giggling as they worked. Cynthia faced Steve and unbuttoned his shirt while, simultaneously, his cuffs were being unbuttoned and his shoes were being removed. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

Once Brenda and Leslie had undone his sleeves they yanked his shirt up out of his pants, chattering almost nonsensically in their excitement. By the time the shirttail was pulled out, Cindy and Kathy were getting up from the floor and Cynthia was undoing the last button. Kathy was already behind Steve and pulled the shirt from his shoulders. Steve seemed bewildered. Cynthia and Brenda started to pull up his t-shirt and Leslie helped them pull it up over his head.

Cindy stood to one side, which Cynthia took note of, “Cindy, help us with his pants.”

Cautiously, Cindy stepped in closer, afraid to make eye contact with Steve, but when she did, his submissively shell-shocked expression gave her enough confidence to unbuckle his belt, but it was still like an out-of-body experience. Cynthia was already pulling his zipper down. By then, there were hands in the waistband of his pants, everyone giggling and jittery with anticipation. Cindy and Cynthia opened up the front of his pants and in a second, just as Brenda and Leslie pulled his t-shirt up over his head, his pants were pulled to the floor by Cynthia and Kathy. Steve grabbed the waistband of his underwear just in time to keep them from going down with his pants, but as the ladies quickly got his pants off, he felt the cresting roller coaster pause at the top of a much higher hill for a second. The ladies were breathing heavily, he could feel their body heat and knew in the blink of an eye he would be in a place he had never been, naked in a room full of women. Like driving past a car wreck, too curious not to look, Cindy was caught in the frenzy, and even pushing her way into the action.

It was like a wrestling match to see who could get their hands on his underwear first. With gleeful laughter and the frantic energy of mob mentality, the ladies tore into Steve’s underwear. He was completely at their mercy and they had none to offer. Although he held on firmly to the waistband, he was no match for ten desperate hands pulling his underwear in five directions. He had agreed to being undressed, but not like this. “Whoa!” Steve yelled, but the women were like a tornado. When the sound of ripping seams cut through the mayhem, it was like gas on a fire. Shrieks accompanied the sound of tearing fabric and Steve’s underwear was shredded to pieces. He still held on to the waistband and in seconds it was all that was left of his underwear. Moving his hands to cover himself freed the final scrap to be pulled to the floor. Screaming and laughter continued as the waistband was pulled from his feet. He was completely naked.

Steve was in shock. No amount of anticipation could have prepared him for this and he covered himself as best he could. The ladies all stepped back and gawked at him, their laughter dissipating into out of breath ordu escort gasps. He stood there facing his abductors who had stripped him naked and glanced around at his clothes, which were strewn around the room. Leslie held up part of the crotch of his underwear and turned to face the other women. “Ta da!” she said as she waved it like a flag, to their great amusement. How odd. Nudity is greatly enhanced when you’re facing an audience of the opposite gender who are close enough to touch you. Adding to his feeling of domination, he watched, somewhat helplessly as Brenda began to gather his clothes, and lay them over her arm. What was she planning to do with them? They now had full control.

“Hey, sorry about the underwear Steve,” Cynthia said. “Maybe Cindy has some undies she could loan you.” Laughter filled the room again. For Steve, this was surreal. Never in his life had he felt this vulnerable. Although he was nude, he was still covering himself, so he was not yet fully exposed.

After Cynthia had gathered the scraps of Steve’s underwear, she looked at Cindy. “Would you like to have these for a souvenir?” Cindy blushed and shook her head as she looked at Steve with a smile. Brenda had the rest of Steve’s clothes draped over her arm.

Cynthia tossed the scraps of Steve’s underwear into the kitchen trashcan amidst the coffee grounds, fruit peelings and junk mail. Steve turned to see Brenda stepping into her sandals. “Um… Wha-what are you doing with my clothes?”

Brenda only smiled, looked at the other ladies and giggled.

“Let me take his clothes for you,” Leslie said, never taking her eyes off of Steve. “I have an idea.” She whispered something in Brenda’s ear.

“Good idea,” Brenda said looking at Steve mischievously. Instead of handing over the whole pile, she did it one piece at a time, looking at it and then at Steve. “Here’s his t-shirt,” she said as she held it up. Leslie took it and began to study it. All this accentuated Steve’s sense of helpless submission. “Here’s his shirt,” she said as she tossed it over. It fell at Leslie’s feet as she tried to catch it. She picked it up, smiled at Steve and laid it across her arm. “And of course his pants,” she said with a chuckle. Leslie grinned as she tossed the shirts on the sofa and took Steve’s pants. She held them up like a trophy and everyone laughed. “Don’t forget his shoes,” Brenda said as she tossed them on top of the shirts since Leslie was still inspecting his pants.

Leslie grinned at him. “Cindy? Would you rather put Steve’s clothes somewhere? We wouldn’t want him to try to escape now, would we?” The ladies cackled with laughter seeing his expression of total helplessness. Cindy didn’t know what to say and Steve’s physical strength and mental fortitude vanished as he watched Leslie walk away.

“Now Steve, you can’t stand there all day trying to cover yourself. How about you folding your hands behind your head so we can see?” Cynthia smiled at him, cocky with the power of control and the laughter, strengthened by their authority, filled the room. Every eye stared at his hands, waiting for him to fully surrender.

“C’mon Steve,” Kathy said, “You’re safe.” The other women nodded in agreement. “We know the difference between hard and soft. It’s ok.” There was a quiet pause, Steve closed his eyes took a deep breath and relaxed his arms, folding them behind his back. There was a pause and then the ladies all cheered. He not only saw their eyes go straight to his privates, he felt them burning into him.

“Now, turn around nice and slowly for us,” Cynthia said, “We want to see all of you.”

Leslie reentered the room grinning. “Where did you put them?” Cindy asked. Steve’s heart pounded as he studied Leslie ‘s face, but she only smiled and sat back down.

“In a safe place,” she answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them… Eventually… If you cooperate.” Leslie smirked at Cindy and blew Steve a kiss. Brenda winked at Leslie.

So what do we do now?” Kathy asked, “Maybe we should have Steve be a waiter for us. What do you think?” She was thinking of what had happened at the party that Bill had attended. “Lets have him fix coffee for us.”

“I like that idea,” Leslie said. “A nude waiter!”

“Yeah. Steve? Would you make us a fresh pot of coffee?” Brenda asked sweetly. “When it’s made,” she said turning to Cindy, “he can bring our cups to us on a tray with some of those croissants.”

“Ok,” Steve said, still adjusting to his circumstances, “I can do that.” He walked back into the kitchen, glad to move away from their gaze. Soon he had the coffee brewing and stood back to wait, feeling too self-conscious to walk back into the den. He looked in the fridge and found a large carton of croissants and then looked around the corner to the den and asked Cindy where to find a serving tray. Without thinking, she jumped up to help but taking her first step remembered she was going into her kitchen where there was a naked osmaniye escort man.

In the kitchen, Steve felt the same surprise. When he stood here 20 minutes ago he would have never believed that the next time he would be naked. He’d assumed that she would tell him where to look, but as she stepped into the kitchen, he felt more self-conscious being alone with Cindy than he had with all of them and turned to face the counter. “They’re over here,” she said, hoping to sound nonchalant. She walked over to a buffet just beyond the dinner table and pulled out the bottom drawer. He looked over his shoulder at her and when she stood back up, they made eye contact. It startled her, which startled him. After an uncomfortable pause, she stepped toward him warily and handed him the tray. “Do you need anything else?” She focused only on Steve’s face as they spoke, but now there was a new elephant in the room and they both knew what it was.

For Steve, this was even more awkward. The fact that they had known each other for over a year in a totally other kind of relationship, this was beyond weird, but Cindy was enjoying it. Having the upper hand made a big difference. She smiled in such a way as to tell him that. “I’ll leave it with you so you can come serve us.” She was much more “into it” than she had been when this whole adventure began which caused Steve to feel even more dominated. Cindy turned to walk out, but as she did, she glanced down at him and smiled. He found this extremely arousing and standing there alone, he began to get a hard on. The coffee was now done, so he walked back into the room with the tray to get everyone’s coffee cups. With the tray in his hands, there was no way to cover himself and he felt remarkably vulnerable but remarkably turned on.

“Wow! Steve!” Brenda exclaimed, “That’s not what I saw a minute ago! Cindy, what did you do to him while you were in the kitchen?”

Cindy blushed and Steve cringed. If they were only looking at his dick it would be weird enough, but they would also look him in the eye and smile.

Cynthia who had been sitting back observing quietly, winked at Steve. “Do you need a holster for that thing?” They all laughed and Steve took it as a compliment, breathing a sigh of relief. His face reddened anyway and he ignored her comment. All of them had something to say and their “review” of his manhood was a step deeper into the erotically alternate reality he had entered.

Finally they all settled down again. “Thank you, Steve,” each one said in turn as he took their cups and saucers. He walked back into the kitchen and poured a fresh cup for each of them. Then he returned to set the tray down on the coffee table.

“Steve, we’d also like for you to fix each cup for us as well,” Cynthia said, “Go get the cream and sugar for us. I want 2 sugars, no cream.” She leaned back in the recliner and looked him up and down, a little smile at the corners of her mouth. Steve took the empty tray back to the kitchen and returned with it carrying all the condiments.

“I want cream and two sugars,” Kathy said, when he came back, very pleased with how this was turning out. “If you don’t put in enough, I can help you,” she said with a smile. She was more animated than she had been all morning.

“I’d like mine black, but I’d also be glad to help if you… need a hand,” Brenda said with a laugh.

“And what, pray tell, would he need your hand to do?” Cynthia asked as if confused. Everyone laughed, even Cindy. But for Steve, this was too weird for words. He now sported a full erection.

“Well, well, well!” Brenda said, “What do we have here?” She pointed at Steve’s dick. “My goodness, I bet I could hang a shoe on that thing!”

The room erupted with laughter, except for Steve who although turned on still felt so self- conscious he didn’t} know what to think, much less what to say. He was awash in erotic confusion.

“Cindy, maybe you should’ve gotten doughnuts instead of croissants! He wouldn’t need a tray to bring them in!” No one expected such a comment from Kathy, but there it was. She blushed, surprised by her own carnality.

“Ha! I wonder how many he could bring at one time!” Cynthia couldn’t resist. “His hands would be free to carry the tray with the coffee cups!”

“It depends on whether they’re Krispy Creme or Dunkin’ Doughnuts,” Brenda said.

“Come on you guys!” Cindy said, “That’s a bit much.”

Steve was slack jawed. He was getting a dose of what womankind has experienced at the hands of mankind since time began. He could understand why some women would enjoy it and many would be offended. He felt both, but tried to lean toward the enjoyment side. “I’ll never think the same about doughnuts,” he said, smiling for the first time.

Seeing his smile was an enormous relief for Cindy. She felt freer to succumb to the vibe. “Next time, I’ll have doughnuts,” she said before she could think. She smiled at the surprised stares sinop escort of the other ladies. Even Cynthia was temporarily speechless. It was time to dive in.

“Wow, Cindy!” Leslie said in amazement, “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Nice to have you finally join us,” Cynthia said with a wink.

“Well, it looks like I was more stressed out than Steve,” she said matter-of-factly, “Steve? Would you mind doing the gutters when we’re done here? If you get them all done, not only will I feed you… once you’re finished of course… I’ll even let you have your clothes back.”

Now everyone was slack jawed. Cindy’s discomfort had been a sort of safety net. Now he felt truly dominated. Cindy smiled at him in a way he’d never seen and he didn’t know what to say.

“So, lets get our coffee doctored before it gets cold,” Kathy said in an attempt to move along.

“Right.” Steve said, glad to have something to do besides stand there. He tried to remember all the instructions. He had put two spoons of sugar in Cynthia/s cup when Brenda said, “Hey Steve, are you sure you don’t want me to uh… give you a hand?”

All the ladies were cackling and then, to his continued surprise, Cindy spoke. “I never told you how I wanted mine, but I’d be glad to come show you how I like it.” Steve had no file for this side of Cindy’s personality. Of course all of them were laughing at Cindy’s double entendre.

Leslie was the only one who hadn’t given any instructions, so after he fixed the others, he asked her what she wanted. She smiled at him, “Just a little cream, I don’t need any sugar. At least, not that kind.” Again the hoots of laughter filled the room.

“Maybe you should make sure he knows what kind of cream,” Brenda demurred. The laughter resurged and once again, Cindy’s mouth hung open in surprise but her smile returned.

Steve was the butt {?} of their jokes, but what could he do? Although he had never spoken that way about a woman in her presence, he had certainly thought that way in the privacy of his own mind.

Once he had fixed everyone’s coffee, he carried the tray back to the kitchen. They all smiled at him as he came back. He noticed that Cindy looked flushed with the weird transition of embarrassment to excitement. He wasn’t sure what to do. They turned their focus to their coffee, each one approving his work. He stood there facing them, uneasy of what might happen if he went back to his chair. “Where are my clothes!” he asked, wondering how long this would last.

“Don’t worry,” Cindy replied calmly, “Cynthia thought we should put them in the back of your truck, but Leslie put them… Well, you’ll get them… Later.” She smiled, which made Steve feel even more naked, if that’s possible. “You won’t need them for a while.” She grinned at him and he wasn’t sure if that meant she was teasing or not. Confusing him further she said, “A benefit of being naked is that while you’re working on the gutters, you won’t get them dirty.” The ladies all laughed and Cindy winked at him. He knew she was teasing but it still unnerved him.

“Very funny,” he said, hoping to sound nonplused, but if they couldn’t see through it, he sure could. But he pressed on, “So, everyone has coffee and food, now give me my clothes so I can get dressed and get to work, or was that all a ruse to set me up for this?”

“Oh no sir,” Cynthia said emphatically, “We aren’t finished with you yet.” Brenda began to giggle and the others smiled at him, knowing something he didn’t know. “Thanks for doing such a good job as a nude waiter.” she said, “Now we just want to look at you.” She grinned and the others continued to giggle uncontrollably. Cynthia and Leslie stood and faced him, smilingly devilishly.

“Well, uh… Haven’t you already seen enough?” Like almost everything else he’d said, it sounded stupid after he’d said it. He had a weird sense of erotic defenselessness. “What do you want me to do?” With this question, some of his subconscious submissiveness peeked out and he realized it immediately. He knew that a substantial part of his mind wanted to do whatever they wanted him to do. It really was a turn on to be naked in front of them and they were simply enjoying it, which freed him to relax and enjoy it also.

“Come over here, Steve,” Cynthia said. She pointed to the floor right in front of her chair as she sat back down. He paused, so she raised her eyebrows and pointed again, “Here!” she demanded. The ladies bit their lips. Hesitantly, Steve stepped over in front of her chair, a comfortable distance away from where she had pointed, which would have had him standing between her legs as she sat back in the recliner. She looked at him as if she was about to shout at him, but instead, she gritted her teeth. “HERE!” she commanded. Steve uneasily moved over, his legs now against the seat of the recliner. She had spread her legs so he would have enough room. When she leaned in, her face was inches away from his manhood. Steve felt the same shock he’d felt earlier when they tore his underwear to pieces. It seemed the roller coaster was once more at the pause just before screaming downhill. “Hmm,” she said as she studied what was again in full erection. Steve was beginning to sweat. He was dying for her to DO something.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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(Discussion of this story or general CFNM/Embarrassment themes welcome)

*

I am sure that you have to be a little surprised that a man would knock on your door, completely nude, and ask to borrow a towel, or a t-shirt, or anything that you might consider lending me to cover myself, but there is a story to all of this. So, if you want to know why I have only my hands to cover my front, and my bare ass is bright pink, I’ll just go ahead and tell you.

I surf the net occasionally, and look at girlie pics and what not, as most people do. I can’t say that I ever felt the need to hide this either. When my friend Linda, who lives three doors down from me would come over to hang out and have a drink, sometimes I would even tell her or show her when I found a particularly hot pic.

One night, as we drank G&Ts, watched “Family Guy”, and surfed the web, I found a great video clip. A model on a runway had on a long loincloth type of bottom, and a bikini top. The top was fairly standard, but the bottom was a long strip that hung down from her waist, and another in the back. They were simply held on by a string around her waist, covering her buns and her crotch, but making it clear that she could not be wearing anything underneath.

The strips of fabric hung all the way from her waist down to the floor, and as she walked along the catwalk, she stepped on one of the two pieces of cloth, which caused the string to come untied, and she lost her bottom altogether. She ran, completely bottomless, to the backstage area. She covered her front with her hands, and her butt was completely bare.

Naturally, I thought that this was the best thing ever to happen in the history of the planet, and I told Linda so. She came over and watched it, and her jaw dropped. She told me that the woman had been totally humiliated, and that I should be sympathetic instead of cheering and aroused. I explained to her that it was not the end of the world, the woman should just “grin and bare it”. After all, she is not the first woman ever to be naked in public. Strippers do it all the time, and show even more. Nobody ever died because they were “totally humiliated”.

Linda started to get a little bit irritated with me and told me that I was being sexist, and that I would never be able to deal with it if it happened to me, so I should just shut up and stop playing the stupid video. I told her to take it easy, that it was no big deal, and we should just have another drink. “Yeah, I’ll take it easy,” she said, and we made more drinks, and went back to watching tv.

A couple of nights later, Linda stopped back by. We mixed up G&Ts, and let bygones be bygones. In fact, Linda was being totally playful that night. She told me to turn around and close my eyes. When I asked her why, she said she had a surprise gift for me. Never one to turn down a gift from a friend, I happily obliged. She took my hands in hers, and put them behind my back. Then, I heard a click, and I felt a bracelet lock around each wrist. Linda’s surprise present for me was handcuffs!

I tried to move my hands around a little bit to see if they were even real handcuffs, or just the novelty type that they sell in the toy store. They felt as real as can be. I just laughed a little bit, and asked her what was the occasion. She smiled, and said softly, “Birthday party. You do like parties, don’t you?”

I told her, “I do like a good party, but my birthday isn’t for a while now. You know that.”

She just gave a quiet laugh and said, “Who said anything about YOUR birthday?” I think that was the first time that I realized that she might have something further in store for me.

I think I was already blushing as I tried to laugh her off, be cool, and in a calm voice said, “Well, I do love to party with you, although I guess it is a fairly small party, just the two of us.”

Without even blinking, she replied, “Oh, this party isn’t just the two of us. Not even close.”

Still trying to play it cool, I said, “Well, unless you’ve got a mouse in your pocket, it may have to be.”

With a self-assured smile, she said, “No, no mouse. What fun would a mouse be, anyway? But since the other party-goers are all at my place, I think it is time to depart this bachelor’s paradise for the glamour and sociability of my own little slice of heaven.”

With this, she stood up and made a beckoning motion with her hand, motioning me to the door. I wasn’t really sure what to do, and then she clapped twice, and in an impatient voice said, “Come on – move it. People are waiting, and this birthday isn’t going to celebrate itself now.”

As I stood up, I smiled at her and said, “Um, Linda, your birthday isn’t for a month after mine. Isn’t this a little premature?”

Linda returned a bland smile and softly replied, “Who said anything about my birthday?”

“Well, I don’t know, I just figured and all,” was all I could come up with. With that, Linda gently took me by one of my handcuffed arms, locked my door, and gently led me down the steps. Playing along with her seemed kırşehir escort like the way to go. She probably would have drinks or something for us at her house.

We walked down the sidewalk, and the air felt pretty nice. The weather was getting good, and I wasn’t too cold in just shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops (our little drinking sessions were pretty darn casual). As we walked up to Linda’s house, I could see that the lights were on, and somebody was inside. Now I was starting to get a little panicky. Wearing handcuffs at home, in front of your friend is one thing, but being handcuffed in front of strangers was not a real comfortable idea for me.

At this point, I just stopped in my tracks and asked Linda, “Ok, what’s going on with this? There’s other people in there.”

Sensing my nervousness, she gave me a big, sickly sweet smile, and said, “It’s a birthday party. I already told you that. You didn’t forget already, did you?”

“No, I didn’t forget already, but I didn’t think you were serious, or I wouldn’t have come over here like this,” was all I could muster.

“Well now, whose fault is that,” she politely responded, “Now, let’s get in. People are waiting.”

By now, I wasn’t very comfortable, but she had me by the arm, and I didn’t want to be seen by her guests being dragged in or anything. After all, with my hands cuffed behind my back, she could probably get the better of me and make me look pretty foolish if I tried anything. I tried to muster up a smile, and told her, “After you, my hostess.”

She gave me that sweet smile again, and simply cooed, “Well, aren’t you the sweetest.” Then she led me up her steps with exaggerated care, as a woman opened the door to let us in.

As soon as the door shut and we entered Linda’s living room, a group of six women with some kind of frozen drinks in their hand let out a cheer, “All right, Linda, finally!”

“We thought you had gotten lost!”

“You invite us to a party and then ditch us?”

“Ooh, now that’s what I want for my birthday present! A handcuffed man!”

As I looked around, I realized that I knew some of them, somewhat. Linda’s neighbors on either side of her were there. It was a peculiar time to realize that we had some pretty attractive women on our street. Also there was a cashier from the convenience store down the street. Half my age or not, she was amazingly hot, and I always hoped for a little cleavage shot when she leaned over to give me my change. It looked like the girl next to her was probably her girlfriend, as they were of the same age group and were exchanging glances and giggles constantly.

I looked further, and this is when things got a little odd for me. Sitting on Linda’s sofa, like they had been there all their lives, were the last two people that I ever would have expected to see. Comfortable lounging, drinks in hand, were my secretary, Elise, and my immediate supervisor from work, Tammy. I must have looked shocked because my boss coolly looked me in the eye, and simply asked, “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

“I’ve told you some of what Mr. Sensitive here has to say, haven’t I?” said Linda. “But now, shouldn’t we be celebrating Valeria’s birthday?” At this, everyone gave a cheer, and bustled about, refilling drinks, and assembling birthday presents. Although I was handcuffed, the next few minutes of the party were surprisingly normal. It turned out that Valeria was the cashier from the convenience store. The other women had gifts, which she opened, and everyone chatted and drank up.

After the presents were cleared, Linda brought out a cake, and Valeria blew out the candles. As Valeria cut slices of cake, Linda’s face became thoughtful, and she casually spoke, “Oop, one last birthday tradition, girls.”

Valeria inquired, “And what would that be, Miss Linda?”

“Why, birthday spanks of course, silly,” Linda replied, “One per year!”

Valeria blushed, and stammered, “I think we can skip that one, Linda”!

Linda waved her hand, and firmly informed her, “No, Valeria, tradition is tradition. There must be birthday spanks. But I think we just may have a substitute sit and take the spanks for you!” The girls all looked at me and cheered, and I knew what Linda had planned for me now.

I must have looked like I was about to try to run, and it’s true, I was thinking about it. At that point Linda reminded me that not only was I handcuffed, but she had the keys to my house. It would be pretty difficult for me to pull some kind of escape. I might just be stuck here.

“Now, let’s just see here,” said Linda, “I think that the birthday girl can sit on the couch, nice and comfy, and Spanky here will just have to go over her knee.”

My boss sat straight up and exclaimed, “Spanky – I think someone has a new nickname!”

At this point, my secretary asked sweetly, “do I have to call him Mr. Spanky?”

Linda just waved her hand, and motioned at me to climb onto Valeria’s knee. I hesitated, but she snapped, “Get on her knee now, Spanky! malatya escort You are handcuffed and this could get much worse in a hurry!” All the women looked surprised but egged her on, and told me to get going. Valeria slapped her knee, and I climbed onto her lap, ass in the air, directly facing the two neighborhood women, trying to avoid eye contact. As I settled in, they all murmured in approval, but Linda snapped her fingers and shook her head. “There’s something wrong here”, she said. “Oh yes, that’s it. Now I remember, spankings have to be given bare bottom!” Before I could even say a word, she strode over with authority, and yanked my shorts and boxers down to my knees. All the women howled and cheered.

“Nice buns!” yelled Elise.

At this, Tammy chimed in, “I knew there was a reason we kept him around!”

I tried to grab my shorts to pull them back up, but I was bent over Valeria’s knee with my hands cuffed behind me, and there was not much I could do. As soon as I made the grab for the shorts, Linda pulled them all the way down to my ankles, which drew more cheers. She sternly addressed me, “I tried to be nice and let you keep your shorts, but you had to go and try to disobey me and ruin Valeria’s spanking by pulling them up. What do you have to say about that?”

I simply stuttered, “I don’t know. I mean, um, I’m sorry. Please put them back up where they were.”

Linda just laughed. She pulled the shorts and boxers completely off, and thoughtfully said, “We’ll just have to see how you behave, won’t we? Maybe if you are good, you can have them back later.”

I had no idea what to do. I just tried to keep pressed against Valeria’s leg, so that only my ass was on display, and nothing even more “personal”. “Don’t you want to thank us for being so nice, Spanky?” she inquired.

After I said, “Thank you all very much,” the girls all laughed again.

“I think he’s getting it now,” said Barbara, one of the two neighbors.

“Isn’t there something you want to ask us, Spanky?” asked Linda, “Don’t you want your spanking to begin? I’m starting to think you just want to lie on Valeria’s lap all night.”

I knew what I had to do, and trying to do so with dignity, I asked Valeria, “Would you please spank me now?”

The women absolutely howled with this. Valeria just smiled and said, “I think that I can do that.”

Everyone sat forward on her seat expectantly, and Valeria drew her hand back. I looked up to see Linda intently adjusting a large digital camera upon us. I looked in the other direction to see Elise with her video camera. She just shrugged and said, “fFor all the other secretaries that couldn’t make it her tonight,” and gave me a sweet smile. I must have had that panicked look again, because Linda flatly snapped, “If you want to go running down the street bareassed, hands cuffed behind your back, and no way to get inside, go ahead, but I’m not sure how good an idea that is.” I just lowered my head, and tried to avoid eye contact. Valeria readied herself, and the other women all gave her a countdown from ten. When they reached “one”, she gave me the first spank, a firm swat, right smack in the middle of my ass. This got the loudest cheer yet. She pulled back, and kept going, again and again. The women all were laughing and giving each other happy glances, egging on Valeria.

After ten swats, Valeria asked, “Do you even know why I am here? You always try to look down my shirt, you jerk. Linda was nice enough to help me even the score. How do you like me now?” The women whooped, and even gave each other a few high fives. Valeria started spanking again, but harder. Much harder. I tried to move my ass a little so that she would not hit the same sore spots, but she landed swat after swat anyway, and Linda shouted a warning to me about trying to avoid my spanking. Finally, after nineteen strokes, presumably for her nineteenth birthday, she stopped.

All of the other women clapped and congratulated her on a job well done. I just lie there as my ass burned. The women came over, one at a time, to check out her handiwork. My buns must have been pink, as everyone seemed to approve. Each of them felt free to comment on my ass, or give it a pinch as she walked by.

Linda, now the group leader, sat up and looked at her glass. “Spanky,” she said, “My glass is empty. Be a dear and get me a refill.” All action in the room froze. She still had not returned my shorts, and I was still across Valeria’s lap, trying to keep covered. “Did you not hear me?” she snapped, “Or is there some kind of a problem?”

“Well,” I said, “Could I have my shorts back first?”

Without hesitating, she replied, “No, you may not. I told you that would depend on your behavior. You repeatedly tried to avoid your spanking. You won’t be getting your shorts back soon. Now stand up immediately.” There was no way around it. She had me and she knew it. Fully bottomless, I stood up, hands behind my back, penis on display to all of the women.

I was maybe two feet away from niğde escort my pretty, young secretary, but I was trying not to look at her. As I stood there, the women gave Linda a little round of applause for taking charge. She grew even more confident with this, and ordered me to stand before her. As I did so, she took a pair of scissors and cut away my t-shirt, so that I stood completely nude before the women. “That,” she said, “Was for taking so long to stand. When you get an order, you follow it, you don’t think about it. Now, I think the girls would like to take their picture with you.”

That seemed just fine with the women, each of whom came over, one at a time, and took her picture with me, posing with her hand on my pink ass, handling my penis, or whatever seemed to be a fun picture to her at the time.

The one who I thought would be the easiest on me, Elise, was far from that. She walked over, grabbed my testicles firmly and told me in a stern voice, “Bend over the chair. NOW!” Knowing better than to disobey again, I did so. As all the women watched closely with intrigue, and Linda readied her camera, Elise put one of her hands on each buttock, and spread them wide apart, displaying my anus to the room, and to Linda’s camera, which whirred away. As the other women’s jaws were dropping, Elise chirped, “Thanks, boss. It’s been real fun working with you. Be sure to hit on me again real soon.”

A visibly amused Linda strolled over. “Well,” she declared, “I think we can take the cuffs off now. Given our video and photo collection, and his lack of clothes, I think he’ll be most obedient, no matter what we tell him to do, cuffs or no cuffs.” She removed the cuffs from me, and I did not even think of trying to cover my penis with my hands or running, or anything of the like.

Donna and Barbara, the neighbors, were conferring. “Shouldn’t we test him then?” Donna asked.

Linda nodded, “Help yourself. Go ahead.”

Donna took a minute to contemplate, and then announced, “I’m sure that being inside is getting stifling to him. And since he likes to look at Barbara and I when we sunbathe, I’m sure he does that to all the women on the block. I think it’s time for him to take a nice jog around the block.”

The others seemed to approve, and Linda gave two quick claps and motioned to the door, “You were given an order. Not when you feel like it, go now!” As I ran out the door fully nude, I wondered what my limits were. As I got a few feet away, I realized I could try to escape, but I was stark naked with a pink ass, and no way to get inside. It was probably two in the morning, but you never know when someone will come outside to take out the trash. Also, they had the pictures and video of me. I had to return and I knew it.

When I got back, they had been thinking. Before I could end my exercise session and rejoin them inside, I had to do naked jumping jacks on the lawn, both facing front and facing back. These seemed to be a favorite with the women, who kept the video camera running and kept laughing and pointing as my penis flopped around.

A surprising side effect of my penis flopping and bouncing was that it was getting a little bit erect, a fact that was not lost on the women.

“Look at this, I think he likes it!”

“Maybe we are being too easy on him!”

“We are definitely going to have to show him off more.”

Linda deliberated over this for a while before asking, “Ok, girls, who’s ready for a little ride?” Since they all knew she had something planned, they all agreed that they were ready for a ride. We got in two cars, and Linda led us to the university part of town, three miles away. We stopped near a section that I knew to be the Sorority Row. Linda had everyone get out of the cars, and we stood underneath a tree on an average looking residential street.

Linda looked at me standing there naked, and motioned Valeria’s friend Gina to start the video camera. “All right,” she said, “If you want to get your clothes and go home, here’s the deal. You have to stand here and masturbate for everyone to see.”

“If someone walks up, they see it. That’s your problem.”

“You have five minutes to come. If you do so, we drive you home and give you your clothes and keys. If you don’t, we leave you here naked, three miles from home. You get to walk through Sorority Row and the university butt naked if you want to get back.”

I swallowed hard. The women all seemed a little startled, but nobody doubted that she would do it, and nobody wanted her to stop, and Donna readied her watch. “Ok,” she said, “The clock starts in thirty seconds.” After all that these women had seen, and made me do so far, I had no hesitation. In full view of my close friend, my two co-workers, my two neighbors, a teen cashier and her friend, and under the watchful eye of the video camera, I stood naked on the street and masturbated in front of all of them.

I got hard surprisingly quickly, considering the circumstances, and I stroked furiously, despite the audience. I think that some of the women wanted me to have to walk home naked, but others might have been rooting for me after all they had seen me do and endure. I tried to put good pressure on my erect penis. It wasn’t comfortable doing this standing up, but it was not like lying down on the pavement would have been more comfortable.

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So, it was about time for the annual Christmas/Holiday party, and as usual, I was more than ready to participate. Of course, I was a lapsed Catholic, but a secret pagan side of me thought of it as Yule, which was the true origin of Christmas, anyway. Anyway, the parties tended to get a little wild at our company, a publishing firm where I was one of the rising young editors. Many of us were single young adults, and it was not unheard-of for a few people to get laid at the thing each year, often in a poorly lit or even dark section of the floor where it was held (sometimes, even on the elevators or other floors, if one was shy or secretive enough).

At any rate, we also held a “secret Santa” deal for our annual festivities, and as always, I was very curious to see whose name I drew from the traditional Santa cap. It was Julia Rosenthal, a relatively new secretary fresh from Princeton, of all places, who despite her Jewish faith seemed intent on taking part with equal enthusiasm. After all, as she put it, Chanukah was already over by the time that Christmas rolled around, and she could easily fit in two or three holidays, “as well as respect all of them.”

Julia had reddish brown hair, rather curly in fact, and while her tits were somewhat on the small side, they didn’t sag and she had the legs and ass to more than make up for it. Her bright blue eyes reflected her Norwegian father, Ivar Thorvaldsen, who had divorced her mother and returned to Norway when he grew homesick and tired of the culture clash of living in New Jersey. Julia’s mother had worked for the Princeton administration and thus she had grown up as a “townie,” which made tuition and admission much easier, especially with the right strings pulled. Ivar never being around to have his input on things, Esther Rosenthal had resumed her maiden name and brought her daughter up in the Faith, albeit Conservative rather than Orthodox or Reform.

Getting Julia’s name, though not really expecting any chance of being with her, especially so soon after Beth and I broke up (during Thanksgiving, after she had expected a marriage proposal and none materialized), I made a special effort to get something far above what was expected from me. I knew for a fact that Julia was fond of antiques. Naturally, therefore, I found a particularly old music box that seemed to fit her taste and I made sure that I didn’t even plant any hints or warnings.

Now, it was never said what we had to buy, so most people bought only under a certain budget, but this was a different occasion, and perhaps I wanted Beth at least a little jealous or even hurt that she wasn’t getting anything from me this year. Most of all, though, I wanted Julia to get the sense that she mattered, at least to me. If nothing else, friendship could develop from acquaintance, and I certainly wouldn’t mind having her as a friend.

Well, I wasn’t ready for what would follow from the chain of events that occurred at the party, which opened with some light eats, some wine, some spirits, some egg nog, some punch, some tea, and some coffee, depending on one’s taste. I poured myself a brandy, in fact, and was sipping it just a little when Beth approached me with a surprising smile on her face. Being the most junior editor on the staff, Beth might under normal circumstances have been intimidated by me, but we had been lovers for about three months when the dreaded Thanksgiving Fiasco occurred and she dumped me for it.

Oddly enough, even though she supposedly found a new boyfriend on the rebound, a douchebag insurance salesman named Chad Hughes, Beth had scarcely concealed her interest in my comings and goings. Even so, given her seeming jealousy and my refusal to avoid female company, I didn’t expect a smile from her that actually seemed sweet. I was instantly suspicious and on my guard, yet she didn’t hesitate to approach me in spite of my obvious caution and mistrust.

“So, going stag to a Christmas party, Victor?” Beth, as always, used my full given name instead of shortening it to “Vic,” which was a rare personality quirk that she shared, oddly enough, with Julia.

“Same with you, as it happens. Where’s Chad?” I observed, feeling guarded still.

“Oh, honey, when are you going to ever learn? Some relationships are real, meaningful, and serious. Some boyfriends matter. And some are like Chad. Shallow, stupid, and more than a little vain,” Beth smiled coyly, “Of course, I think that even as dense as he is, not being invited to the Christmas Party should be the sign that this was just a wild and crazy fling.”

“A fling, eh? So, it was just to pass the time?” I asked curiously, even as Beth got ever close to me, her hands getting a little too close for comfort, even as her face invaded my personal space.

“No, silly, it was to make you jealous!” Beth laughed, now brushing dangerously close to me as she closed the distance and gave me a light, but quite public kiss on the lips.

“So, all boyfriends are not created equal, then,” I mused, trying to let my discomfort combined with my arousal too obvious.

“Most emphatically not! Since kırşehir escort when would a mindless, corporate drone like Chad Hughes, who has the IQ of a walnut, ever be the equal to a deep thinker like Victor Mancini, no matter how frustrating I find the level of your profundity at times? You should really know better than that, dear,” Beth said now, kissing me yet again.

“That’s two kisses now, Beth. One could construe this as sexual harassment,” I smirked, but I returned the kiss in spite of my protests.

“One might, but not you. I know better. You know better. You’re Victor Humbert Mancini, and you’re nobody’s victim or fool. You kiss no one that you don’t mean to kiss, and you know that you want to kiss Zoe Elizabeth Mantarakis, don’t you? You still want me, and let’s be blunt here, not all girlfriends are created equal, either, are they, Victor?

“Not even Rosa Cruz, though she’s a lot smarter than Chad Hughes. You’d take her more seriously, if you didn’t know that she was still in love with her husband and is at least a little bit of a good Catholic girl that way. I bet that you fucked her, though. I bet that she was damn good in bed, though so was Chad, I must admit, in his clumsy, raw talented, untutored way,” Beth grinned devilishly at me, even as I shrugged.

“She’s a married woman and I always wanted to fuck one, plus I hate her husband for how he treats her,” I observed, “I’m glad that Chad was a great lay for you, just as Rosa was for me. And, yes, she was that fucking good. Plenty of Latin heat to her. I don’t know how long this affair will last before Catholic guilt overtakes her, so I will enjoy her until that happens. Anyway, what’s this about, honey?”

“This, baby, is a game that you’ll figure out soon enough, but when you do, you can bet your sweet ass that you’ll be glad that you did. You’re a man, yes, so can be dense about women at times, though admittedly, we women can be obtuse in our own ways. Overcomplicating the simplicity of men has that effect, I guess. Even so, you’re probably the smartest man that I know in person, so you’ll get it, dear. For now, let the games begin. Oh, by the way, you’ve been standing under mistletoe,” Beth noted the mistletoe dangling above me all this time.

“Guess that means that I can get a freebie, then,” Rosa spoke behind us, as she planted one on me, “By the way, here’s my panties. Feel free to do whatever you want with them. Just remember that I’ll never take them back from you. They’re your panties now. Consider them my Christmas gift to you. And no, I’m not your secret Santa, but I would gladly be your naughty Elf.”

“My turn,” Julia winked at me as she gave me a light peck on the mouth, too, “Sorry, boss, but you ARE standing under mistletoe. I gotta give you a kiss. I love that rule!”

“Alright, now, I refuse to be left out of the fun!” another voice joined in, and the next thing that I knew, my mouth was invaded by the lips and tongue of Heather Aston, a relatively new college intern on the company staff.

“Okay, that was damn good, but to what do I owe the pleasure?” I naturally inquired.

“Well, I’m public property now, so feel free to make use of me. We have about ten to fifteen minutes until they call us together for the gift exchange, so how about you bend me over and take me, dear Mr. Mancini? The copy room should be remote enough for our needs,” Heather invited me as she took my hand and led me to the copy room.

Before I knew it, my pants were down to my knees and my cock had taken Heather like it was old hat to me! My every thrust was met by her own, as she frantically took me deeper on each stroke. That we were doing this bareback didn’t bother me in the least, as I was more than drunk enough to enjoy Heather without such complications interfering with our pleasure.

“Oh, God, this was every bit as great as Beth assured me that it would be!” Heather exclaimed as she squeezed my dick and squirted all over me.

“What do you mean, Heather?” I asked her as my cock shot out my seed inside her.

“She means that I’m your secret Santa this year, and this was but part of your gift from me, the gift of a great quickie with another woman. To be honest, I find it rather exhilarating to see you in action with her, just as the thought of you fucking Rosa Cruz turns me on, too. By the way, did you know Heather here is Canadian and you just gave her an anchor baby? Yeah, she’s fertile as hell right now and you just put your spawn inside her. That’s part of what she gets in return for being my present to you. The other part is just a damn good lay, which you always are,” Beth informed me as she wrapped her arms around my waist.

“That he is, Beth. That he is. By the way, the idea that he’s been fucking you … and Rosa Cruz, all of that is very hot! He’s really been sticking it to Rosa and hanging horns on her hubby’s head? Good for him!” Heather laughed, “So, Mr. Mancini, were you ever unfaithful to Beth during your relationship with her?”

“Heather, there is no need to call me ‘Mr. Mancini’ after I’ve just malatya escort fucked you, and yes, Beth already knows that I screwed a few girls, though I never outright denied it. Whether or not you’d consider that cheating when I never promised fidelity, but I didn’t disavow it, either, is a matter of interpretation.

“I fucked that college intern, Dawn Fitzgerald, during last year’s Christmas Party and after it, for instance, but Beth must know that by now. Dawn bragged about it and I never denied it. I also never apologized for it or explained it or excused it. It wasn’t wrong. It was just something that I did. Of course, I didn’t ask who else she fucked and she never asked me, which I thought was interesting. I naturally assumed that she wanted marriage as a way of getting me to implicitly or explicitly promise fidelity, but I refused to propose partly for that very reason. Another reason was that I wasn’t sure if she would, or even could, be as faithful as she seemed to wish me to be.

“Until such things were clarified, I wasn’t about to propose marriage or agree to it or anything that might imply or suggest monogamy, because I am not a one-woman man. I have never been one and I never will be one. It’s just not me. What’s more, I am not sure that Beth is a one-man woman, and come to think of it, she has never bothered to make any such claims, either, which puzzled me when she got upset over the lack of a proposal on Thanksgiving Day. It never occurred to me that she would be hoping for marriage so early on, with everything still up in the air and undefined,” I asserted, while Beth kept fondling my ass and now guided it back inside Heather’s twat for an encore.

The next thing I knew, Beth’s fingers were up my ass as I fucked Heather again, all three of us heated in our lust, a surprise threesome that pleased me very much in spite of my cautious words and feelings during this party so far. Heather began really pushing back hard at me, all over again, her hips working their magic in tandem with mine as I pounded her sweet pussy to the point of mutual ecstasy.

“Okay, now, Victor, you’ve said your piece, but while you’re getting a piece, I will speak mine. I get it now. I understand now why you didn’t anticipate that I wanted to marry you, still want to marry you, in fact. Yes, you caught me. I’m not the poster child for fidelity any more than you are. I was intimate with other men, and frankly, other women, too, during our relationship. And I will be again when we resume it … and when we get married.

“Now, now, hear me out, babe. Don’t jump to conclusions. I have no interest in making a wimp or cuckold out of you, I swear. I never did. Do you not realize that I walked into our relationship with my eyes wide open from the very beginning? I not only knew that you were a skirt-chaser, I loved that about you! Are you kidding me, honey? Who could possibly make a better mate for a slut like me, and yes, I am a slut, I admit it, and I own my slutdom, than a philanderer like you?

“Why wouldn’t I want to marry a man like that once I found him, a man after my own heart, a man with the same deliciously lecherous nature as myself? The slut husband, a perfect companion to the slut wife, my dear! So, yes, I learned about you and Dawn Fitzgerald, and frankly, it turned me on so much that I went after Dawn myself right after you and had my way with her as well. I was her first ever woman, took her Sapphic virginity, and she wrote me later thanking me for that, too … and thanking you for taking one of her other cherries … her anal one.

“Yes, she sent you thanks through me, because she knew that I would eventually pass her words on to you. Feel free to read it some time if you wish, the letter, I mean. In any case, that’s why I wanted you to propose to me, so that you and I could get married in time to commit adultery together at this year’s Christmas Party, but unfortunately, you forced me to postpone my plans. I guess that I should have just popped the question myself and explained why, but like most women, I tend to forget that men aren’t mind readers and don’t do well with hints.

“So, there, that’s part of my gift to you as well … the gift of a slut wife for the rest of your life, if you’ll have me. The ideal wife for a man like you, one who will not only wink at your extramarital pleasures, but help arrange them for you now and then. Little surprises like Heather here, and unless I miss my guess, she’s very keen on being intimate with you quite often in the future. So, how about it, Victor? Want your very own slut for Christmas? I promise never to let jealousy get in the way of the kind of marriage that we both want! We can both be sluts together!” Beth assured me as I kept pumping inside Heather and she continued fingering my asshole.

“Oh, God, yes! That feels great! Okay, you sold me on it! Next Christmas, we can be the adulterous couple at the Christmas Party, each fucking others before going home to each other!” I declared as I kept pounding Heather’s cunt.

“Good, because I want to be your niğde escort girlfriend, Mr. Mancini! Yes, I’m going to keep calling you that, sir, especially now that we’re intimate! It really turns me on to get fucked by my boss! Beth, you’re okay with your husband having a girlfriend, right?” Heather urged my now fiancee.

“Honey, my future husband already has a married girlfriend, okay? You know, Rosa Cruz? She’s got a husband herself and I have no desire to make him stop fucking her, not now that I have him for myself. I was just envious before when I spoke. Now that I get my fair share of Victor, more power to her if she wants to cheat on Thomas Cruz with him! I hate Thomas Cruz, too! The more Victor hangs horns on his head, the better, if you ask me! So, sure, if you want to date my fiance, go for it! Enjoy him! I hope that he gets to bed Julia Rosenthal, too, just as he seems to wish.

“By the way, dear, I’ve been screwing Chad Hughes off and on since before we dated. I don’t think that you care, do you? He’s a fine lay, as I said. Just not good husband material, that’s all. It has nothing to do with fidelity. None of us are the faithful sort. It’s just that he’s an idiot and all that we have in common is sex. Nothing else. Oh, and I’ve been sleeping with the boss, too, but I didn’t think that you would mind that, either. I’m going to keep fucking him and Chad, until I tire of them, just as I hope that you don’t drop Rosa, Heather, or Julia any time soon,” Beth informed me as Heather and I came together, my seed shooting once again toward her womb.

“No, I honestly don’t care if you fuck half the men in the firm, as long as you don’t mind me screwing half the women,” I told Beth, even as I pulled out of Heather and both ladies knelt to share the taste of the intern’s twat on my dick.

“You have a yummy slit, dear. Mind if I eat you out now and then?” Beth propositioned Heather, who shrugged.

“I can be Beth’s girlfriend, too, if you’re both okay with that. I can be Beth’s and Mr. Mancini’s girlfriend. You can share me with each other, just as I would be sharing both of you with the other,” Heather suggested.

“Works for me, then. That’s another part of my gift to you. A girlfriend to share. Hey, would you like to swap panties and spend the rest of the party wearing each other’s underwear? I think that would be hot myself, feeling your damp pussy juices on my own crotch!” Beth said as she wiped her fingers clean with a wet wipe.

“I like the sound of that. Yeah, let’s do it!” Heather handed her thong to Beth, who slipped it on while giving her the silk panties that she brought to work with her.

“Okay, I think that we need to go back before they send out a searching party for us to do the gift exchange. I only hope that Julia likes my secret Santa gift to her,” I laughed as we headed back to the party.

“Oh, honey, you’re such a sweetheart when you want to be. I bet you that Julia will cream herself when she realizes how much you like her. I know that I did when you first hit on me,” Beth assured me, just as our boss, Lewis Evans, announced the gift exchange.

Rosa’s gift from Lewis turned out to be the first one and it aroused a bit of comment, as it was a thinly veiled insult to her absent husband: a set of sex toys clearly meant to get her off. She not only didn’t get offended at the risque gift, she gave the boss a full-on lip lock and whispered something unmistakably sexual in his ear. He blushed a little in spite of himself, even as he winked and gave me a thumbs-up.

“What did you tell him?” I asked Rosa as she came up to me, my cock still smelling of Heather’s snatch.

“That my top fantasy was to have him use my mouth while you fucked my ass and one of the women here used the strap-on dildo and thigh harness from his collection on my cunt! You don’t mind if I actually fuck him now and then, do you, because I have and I do … and I will now and then,” Rosa confessed to me.

“Rosa, you’re a married woman. You’re already committing adultery with me on a regular basis. Do you really think that I’m bothered by you bending over for Lewis Evans, our boss, the editor-in-chief of the firm? I know that post-modern HR twats get their panties in a wad over ‘inappropriate workplace affairs, ‘ but screw them! Beth is already sleeping with him and I’m okay with that, just as she is okay with me doing you and Heather. I wouldn’t be shocked if Heather was sleeping with him, too. None of that stopped Beth and me from getting engaged just now, right after I fucked Heather twice in the copy room, and I’m still hoping to get into Julia’s pants, too,” I chuckled now.

“See, this is part of why I feel safe sleeping with you. I know that you will always have other women and you know that I will never leave Thomas. Sorry, but it’s true. He’s a real bastard, but he’s my bastard. Yes, I cheat on him, but I will never leave him. You’re smart enough to know that we have can only be an adulterous liaison and you’re cool with that. I’m still in love with Thomas, weird as that sounds. I just can’t help it. Besides, I’m Catholic. I might step out on my husband, but I would never divorce him. Now that you’re going to be married, you’ll be even safer as a paramour for me. It will be double adultery, too, even spicier. Plus, you’re Catholic, too, so you would never divorce Beth, so I’m even safer,” Rosa explained her thinking.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur Night

“Next Tuesday is amateur night at the club, You ought to come and enter the contest. It’ll be a kick. You’ll like it.” Sarah Malone was talking to her best friend, Sally. Sarah had been stripping at Pete’s Pleasure Palace for a couple of weeks. Both girls were nymphomanics and exhibitionists.

“I don’t know.” Sally was skinny with almost no breasts and, she knew, a less than beautiful face with a large nose. She had no problem undressing in front of guys she was going to fuck. They didn’t care what she looked like as long as she had an available vagina. “What’s in it for me?”

“Getting naked in front of several dozen guys. The place is packed on amateur night. You’ll be a hit. Prize is $1000.”

“Oh come on, Sarah, I’ve got no figure. No way I’ll win.”

“Most of the entrants are cows, you’ll be a hit. And you’ll love having all those guys staring at your body. You know you will. It’s a real thrill.”

“Maybe just to see what it’s like,” Sally resigned herself. It did sound like it might be stimulating and Sarah was not likely to let the subject drop.

“Here I’ll show you some moves. The more you show yourself, the more likely you’ll win. A lot of the girls can’t even get their tops off once they’re on stage and see all the guys looking lustfully at them. But I know you, the more the guys stare, the more you’ll show.”

Pete’s

The day came and the place was packed. There were 10 entants in the amateur night contest. Looking at the women seated in the club, Sally suspected that a couple weren’t amateurs at all but strippers from another club.

The contest began. An announcer came out onto the stage and introduced each amateur dancer who then danced for three minutes. The guys were whistling and calling out for clothes to be removed.

The first girl was a bit on the chubby side and quickly stripped to nothing before walking around the stage showing herself and stroking her shaved slit.

The second girl was also a bit on the heavy side. She managed to get her bra off her substantial breasts but then hesitated at removing her panties. As the guys shouted for their removal the most she managed was to pull the waist band down enough to reveal a hairy bush for a few seconds.

The third was one of the women Sally thought was a stripper. She acted like one on stage too, dancing to the music, swinging around the pole and removing her clothing slowly, becoming completely nude for the last half minute or so and lying on the stage pulling her pussy lips open for vaginal inspection.

Sally was scheduled fifth and the woman before her was going to be hard to follow. Sally thought she was the sure winner. A tall redhead with substantial breasts and a great figure. She swayed gently to the music and removed her clothing while acting completely shy about removing her bra and hesitating to remove her panties. Sally wasn’t sure whether it was an act or she was actually hesitant but the effect was very erogenous. Topless, the beauty exposed pink aureoles with similar colored nipples that contrasted only slightly with her pale skin. The guys stopped yelling as they hung on her every movement, waiting for her to drop the final item of clothing. She finally pulled her panties slowly over her perfect hips and allowed them to drop to the floor. She shyly stepped out of them, covering her genitals with her hands. Then she let her hands fly away from her body as she rotated to the music and exposed herself and her neatly trimmed fire crotch to an enthusiastically appreciative audience.

The winner would be determined by the amount of cash tips and there were dozens of bills in various denominations scattered on the stage. After picking up the cash, the redhead left the stage naked, just picking up her clothes and making no attempt to cover herself as she walked through the crowd collecting more tips from those who weren’t near the stage.

Sally’s Dance

Sally approached the stage with trepidation. She wore a plain, white, front button blouse, a plaid, pleated schoolgirl skirt, knee high stockings and a pair of saddle loafers. She clutched a notebook and schoolbook to her chest. She and Sarah had come up with the idea that she would portray a schoolgirl coming home and undressing. To look bookish she wore a pair of clear, black rimmed spectacles and had her hair up. She took heart as whistles of appreciation greeted her appearance on stage. She pranced around the stage once before laying her notebook and book in the center of the stage, leaning over so those in some of the front row seats could see up her dress. She was wearing a pair of very sheer panties the crotch of which was already wet from watching the other women perform.

Then she danced around the stage as she unbuttoned and removed her blouse. Underneath she wore a sheer tube top, more like a six inch wide, see through, elastic band. Since she had almost no breasts she had chosen that instead of a bra to show off her dark aureoles ordu escort and large nipples. She folded the blouse and placed it on the book, exposing her see through crotch to another set of observers. Cheers greeted every removal of an item of clothing and loud clapping erupted behind her when she bent over. She was fully energized and danced as she played the role to the hilt.

Then she unzipped her skirt twirling to the music and allowing the skirt to fall to her feet. She kicked the skirt into the air, caught it and then bent over to place it neatly in the center of the stage. Now everyone behind her could clearly see her large labia enclosed by the rapidly dampening sheer cloth. Cheers erupted from behind as she bent over and from the front as she stood, exposing her slit and neatly trimmed patch of hair to those in front. She absentmindedly pulled up on the panty waistband, lodging the crotch tighly into the slit. Her labia slipped out to each side.

Gaily turning to the music she pulled down on her thin tube top, pullling it to her waist and exposing her small breasts with their fully erect, half inch long nipples. Again, cheers as she turned, showing the small breasts and huge nipples to all in attendance. She was sure no one was paying attention to her face.

The next part of her routine was to sit on the stage with her legs spread wide as she removed one shoe and then the other. After removing each shoe she placed it carefully on the pile of clothes in the middle of the stage and while doing so repositioned herself so a different section of the audience saw her partially exposed vulva. After her shoes came her socks and as she stood and began prancing around the stage shouts of, “pussy! pussy! pussy!” rose from the assembled men.

She put her fingers on the top edge of the elastic tube at her waist and began pulling it down. As she passed the waistband of her panties she grabbed that too and pulled them both together. To the audience it appeared that she was just pulling the tube top down and off but when her hands came all the way down exposing her completely, a loud cheer came. She allowed the panties and tube top to fall to her feet and bent over to pick them up. She slowly carried them around the edge of the stage, twirling them over her head and moving to the music and finally placed them neatly in the center of the stage.

Then she gave herself over to the music, prancing and dancing around the edge of the stage with her arms free and giving everyone a full look at her skinny, naked body. She used her entrancing brown eyes to full effect, looking longingly with a “Fuck me” expression at every face in the audience. The music ended to loud cheers and she picked up the pile of clothes and went around the stage picking up the cash, mostly ones, a few fives and even a twenty. “Top that,” she thought as she left the stage naked. As she walked around collecting more tips there were frequent slaps on her behind. She stroked the ocassional face and allowed a few hands to feel her hard nipples. One guy offered a twenty and she pulled his hand to her crotch and pushed it against her genitals. A few others noticed the action and she collected over a hundred dollars in twenties in exchange for a feel.

High School Buddy

Before she began dancing Sally had noticed a group of three guys sitting at a table away from the stage who seemed to be looking at her. She observed them while trying not to allow them to notice her glances. They were definitely looking at her. They’d look over and then put their heads together as if whispering about her. Once she was sure she caught one of them pointing in her direction.

As she came to the stage she had looked more closely at them, It was dark in the room and even darker where the table was but she immediately knew why they were paying attention to her. On the left was Derek, a member of her high school math club and one of her school fuck buddies. His back had been to her when she was seated. As their eyes met, he raised his right hand slightly in a wave of recognition. She winked back as she went on the stage for her routine.

After collecting her tips she went behind the bar to deposit the tips for counting and put her clothes on. She came from behind the bar in her schoolgirl outfit with the blouse tied in front rather than buttoned, exposing her waist. She turned the top of the skirt down so it was extremely short.

She walked directly to Derek, barely recognizing the gestures of invitation to sit with other guys who were there. Derek was one of the better looking guys in the math club though he struggled to keep his hair from lookinng like Side-show Bob’s. Only 5-7 he was also muscular, unusual among Sally’s high school friends, most of whom spent their time studying rather than working out. On the way over she reflected on his thick, average length cock and fantisized about having it inside her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as she osmaniye escort came to the table.

“Jeez, I thought you were smart,” was her reply as she grabbed a chair and sat, “I’m dancing in the amateur night contest. I could ask you the same question.”

“I mean, why are you dancing in the contest?”

“Really none of your business,” Sally shot back playfully. Banter like this was par for the course with her high school crowd.

“Didn’t think it was your style.”

“Oh, let’s see I got naked for you, what, a dozen times? Seen you naked as many. Fucked your brains out a similar number of times. Got naked in front of the entire debate team at the hotel, let any guy who wanted feel me up if they’d show me theirs. Fucked most of the other guys in the math club, and you don’t think this is my style?”

His friends sat with their mouths open at her bluntness and the revelations. They had thought Derek was just yanking their chain as he told them about fucking Sally when he had spotted her.

“You never answered my, question, What are you doing here?” he asked. “Doesn’t seem like your style.”

“I’m here with a friend, Sarah Malone, she was one of the school cheerleaders.”

“I didn’t know you hung out with cheerleaders.”

“She’s been a good friend since before high school but we didn’t spend a lot of time together at school.”

“Where is she?”

“In back with one of the dancers, another cheerleader from school.”

“Two of the dancers here were cheerleaders at our school?”

“Yeah, Sarah and Maylee Davis.”

“Is Sarah the cute short one with big bazzooms?” He held his hands to his chest as if he was holding a couple of cantaloupes. The other guys laughed.

“Yeah that’s her,” Sally admitted with a look of disgust at his phrasing and gesture. “She dances here as Astrid.”

“I thought she looked familiar.”

“She’s the one with the hot mama that dances here too?” one of the other guys, a middle aged Hispanic with a slight accent, asked.

“Yes,” Sally answered, “Valkyrie.”

“I’d like some of that MILF,” the Hispanic responded.

Derek ignored the interchange, “Who’s the other?”

“Maylee, Maylee Davis,” Sally responded.

“Don’t remember any Maylee.”

“I didn’t remember her either. Sarah said she was head cheerleader a year ahead of us. Dances as Desiree.”

“Desiree,” the three other guys at the table repeated, symbolically and literally licking their lips.

Sarah decided she had enough of talking about other women. “You haven’t answered my question. What are you doing? Who are your friends?”

“Guys from work.” He introduced them as Ryan, a big guy, mid twenties, with muscular arms and a big gut, Jay, over thirty, maybe fourty, a thin, wirey guy, and Ramone, the Hispanic.

“Why do you sit way back here?”

“We don’t have much money for the dancers and we don’t get bothered as much for tips back here.”

Sally remembered that his father owned a construction company and was pretty sure that’s where he went to work after graduation. “Oh, come on, you could afford to tip, your dad owns the company.”

“I only get what the rest of the employees get. My dad will pay for school and I’ll have a fast track to the top but right now, financially, I’m a regular laborer.”

Finalists

During their discussion the amateur contest had concluded and the announcer went on stage. “Attention! Attention! I have the results of the first round. The top three ladies will now compete for the final prize. They are …” He paused for effect.

“You’ll be one for sure,” Derek said. Sally wasn’t so certain.

“Dancer number four, ‘Firebrand’!” That was the redhead that Sally felt was the sure winner.

“Dancer number five, ‘Innocence’!” Sally was shocked. That was her! The guys slapped her back and high fived.

In the excitement she didn’t even hear the announcement of the other dancer.

The guys pushed her up as the announcer asked the finalists to come to the stage. Sally noticed the third was one of the women she suspected of being a stripper from another club. Well built, definitely enhanced breasts and an exotic Asian/Hispanic face.

“Okay, ladies, in an hour you’ll have a chance to add to your tip total. I’ll tell you that less than $50 separates you. First, though we return to our regular dancers. Guys, you can’t get those private dances from our amateurs but our regular dancers are available for your pleasure.

Sally went back to Derek and his friends. Sarah came over with Maylee. Sally introduced them to the guys and Sarah congratulated her. “Isn’t this as much fun as I said?” she asked. Sarah agreed.

“That was an inspired routine,” Maylee commented. “You should be thinking about something different for your encore. Most of the contestants usually just repeat the same thing but having a different routine is a winner.” Then she added, “You ought to get out among the voters.” She pointed sinop escort to the other two finalists who were walking around chatting up different guys. “They’ll tip more for a girl they think they have even a fleeting relationship with.”

Lily, another dancer who had met Sally when she and Sarah were checking out the club had come by and was listening in. “And a little contact doesn’t hurt,” she suggested, whispering, “your hand on their crotch, letting them touch you. But, be careful, don’t let the bouncers see you doing too much. They’ll ignore incidental contact.”

Sally took the advice and began touring the room starting with the guys who had passed her a 20 for a feel. She loved feeling the hardened cocks, even if it was through the fabric of their slacks. The only difficult part was getting away. The guys wanted her to hang around and continue to stroke them and allow them to stroke her. She developed a line, “I need to see someone else. Loved spending time with you. Be sure to vote for me.” Then she punctuated it with a kiss on the lips and a squeeze of the balls.

After doing the guys who had tipped her earlier she concentrated on three guys Lily had pointed out. They were sitting in the back. “Those guys come to the stage for their favorites but sit in back for the others. If you can get them to like you they tip big!”

She was sitting with the third of the guys when the announcer called the finalists to the stage for the dance-off. They drew straws for the order and Sally was last.

The Finals

First was the “stripper”. She gave an excellent stripper performance, getting naked early and showing herself to the crowd. She collected a lot of ones and fives.

Second was the redhead who repeated her earlier performance. She clearly collected more than the “stripper” with a few twenties among the ones and fives.

Taking Lily’s advice, Sally decided this time to be the school slut rather than an innocent. She set aside the tube top, tied rather than buttoned her shirt and wore the skirt low on her hips, folded over to make it shorter. She let her hair hang loose, brushed it to get as many kinks out as possible and selected a fast rap with a heavy sensual beat and explicit lyrics as her dance music.

She prepared herself by imagining she was just coming home from a fast but unsatisfying fuck with the handsome school quarterback.

Sally mounted the stage to cheers and jeers, her head held high in an attitude of superiority. She tossed her hair side to side and began dancing along the edge of the stage marching and striding to the music rather than shuffling. She quickly lost her shoes throwing them to the side of the stage and made a quick circuit.

Two of the potential big tippers Lily had pointed out were stage side. The other was in the second row since there were no more stage-side seats. She paused in front of the last guy she had been sitting with and pulled off her panties. She made a pretense of smelling them and presented the crotch o the guy’s nose. She dropped them in his lap, “keep them. I’ve got another pair.”

She moved on noticing that he was struggling with his pants’ pockets. As she moved around she made eye contact with those sitting at the stage and mouthed, as clearly as she could, blatant come-ons, “I want you”, “Let’s fuck”, “Take me” …

As she came again to the guy she had given her panties he flipped a fifty onto the stage. She stopped and crouched in front of him, her legs spread wide. She took his hands and moved them to the knot of her blouse. “Untie” she whispered. He pulled and the knot came loose.

A couple of twenties floated onto the stage. Sally went to one of them and allowed him to finish untying. Her blouse opened and he quickly squeezed one of her nipples. She didn’t pull away but waved her finger at him to signify disapproval.

She removed the blouse and flung it into the second row. Now fully naked she strode confidently around the stage, showing herself and looking into the eyes of every possible individual. Unconsciously she was making effective use of her most sexual feature: her large, golden brown, penetrating eyes. The audience quieted, mesmerized by the performance.

The music stopped. There was silence for several seconds as Sally stood proudly naked and looked out at the audience. Then pandemonium, cheers and bills in all denominations rained onto the stage. There would be no doubt as to the contest winner.

Invitation to an Orgy

After the prize presentation the second place redhead congratulated Sally, “You’re a good dancer.”

“Thanks. I was sure you would win. You’re not only a good dancer but stunningly beautiful.”

“Well, I do usually win.”

“You come every week?”

“Finalists can’t compete again for a month. Didn’t you read the rules?”

“I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the winner’s section. I didn’t expect to win.”

“Why enter then?”

“A lark, a BFF dances here and convinced me. She came up with the routine.”

Sally had a thought, “You up for a fuck?”

“What? Girl on girl?”

“If you want, but I’ve got some guy friends here and they’re gunna want to fuck. 4 on 1 is a bit too lopsided.”

“So, 4 on 2?”

“I might get a couple more women.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I previously posted a story about Wendy’s exhibitionism at the lake. I really should have started off with some of her earlier and perhaps tamer escapades before we got married. But quite frankly, given the stunts she pulled after we were married, I had forgotten about her pre-marital exhibitionism.

As these are true stories, Wendy’s adventures won’t be nearly as far out as many of the stories we read here. So, if you are looking for really wild stuff, you won’t find it in Wendy’s stories. I suggest the reader find her lake exhibitionism story and read it for her background.

I can post these stories without fear of outing her, as friends and family would never have an inkling Wendy would be this bold. Even her prior boyfriends would have no idea, as she didn’t start showing off with me until we had been going together for almost a year and had been in a serious relationship for all of that time.

Apartment Adventures

When I met Wendy, I was still living in the apartment where I lived when I was in graduate school. I stayed there as the rent was relatively low, it was close to the university entertainment district and it was close to the downtown area of the city where I worked. I had landed a well paying job, out of school and was putting money aside for the day I wanted to buy a house in the suburbs.

Wendy is 5′ 6″ with light brown hair and light brown pubic hair. This was in the days before women shaved, or waxed bare or to a landing strip, so she had a full bush that she kept trimmed during the summers for her bikinis. She has 34 C breasts with a nice tear drop shape. Her nipples and aureola are small and pink. She is pretty with wholesome “girl next door” looks. A girl a guy would be proud to take home to meet his parents.

My apartment was a third floor walk up. The front door, seldom used, opened into a hallway with three other apartments on the third floor. The stairway went down to a lobby that opened onto a busy street. The doors were double doors, mostly of glass. From the street and sidewalk, about 10′ away, the lobby was fully visible. The apartment mailboxes were in the lobby directly in front of the double glass doors.

Across the street from the apartment was a music club, a bar/restaurant and a small grocery store directly across the street. The grocery store was later turned into another restaurant. Farther down the street was another bar/restaurant, a soda shop/restaurant, a pizza parlor and several other businesses. It was a busy district with lots of auto and pedestrian traffic in front of the building.

The back door from the kitchen opened onto a covered porch, and the exterior back steps going down to the parking lot. If one has seen photographs of tenements in Chicago with the exposed exterior back stairs that doubled as fire escapes, that is exactly what my apartment house looked like from the parking lot. An alley runs next to the building into the busy street in front of the apartment.

When Wendy would come to visit, she would come up the rear steps from the parking lot and to the back door at the kitchen. The kitchen window and the window in the door really had no coverings. There were frilly things for decoration, but they afforded no privacy from the outside.

The windows in my kitchen and living room looked into the apartment building next door, about 40′ away. As I was almost always wearing something when in those rooms at night, I never closed the curtains in my living room. After she came along, neither did she, even though she was frequently naked in those rooms after dark. Just didn’t seem to bother her that the neighbors could see her naked.

Although I have written this as if she immediately started going naked in the kitchen and living room after dark, it probably took her 9 months or so before she started doing it. After a few weeks of her going naked after dark in those rooms, I realized she actually enjoyed it.

After we had been going together for awhile, she started staying over on the weekends. She would come over on Friday evenings and often leave from my apartment for work on Monday mornings. She would also visit me some during the week nights.

One Friday evening about 6:00 pm (after dark), she knocked on my door. We had been going together about 9 months to a year at this point. When I went to the door to let her in, she was standing there stark naked with just a small bag that only contained toiletries and make up. I was shocked, probably for the first time in our relationship. As I let her in, I asked her where her key to my apartment was. She said, “It’s on my dresser at home; I didn’t have a spare pocket to put it in.”

When she got in the apartment, she promptly put her arms around me and kissed me. She said, “I’m so horny, I can’t stand it.”

I told her I had just gotten home from the office and needed to shower first. That was OK with her. She wanted to know if I had gotten the card in the mail she had sent me the day before. I told her I didn’t know as I hadn’t kahramanmaraş escort yet checked the mail. It was still registering on me that she had left her apartment naked, driven over naked, walked across the parking lot and up to my apartment all while stark naked.

She said, “I’ll get the mail while you are showering.”

“But you can’t go down there; you’re naked.”

It then seemed to register on her that she had no clothes on, or with her. She went into the bedroom, grabbed my blue chambray work shirt, put it on and said, “How’s this?”

“But you haven’t even buttoned it up.” I replied.

“So what, I’m just going down to get the mail.”

And off she went, with the shirt flapping open and all of her female assets on display. In the future this is the way she would dress to get my mail. She wouldn’t bother with buttoning it. There was a lot of traffic in front of my apartment building looking into the lobby where the mailboxes are. Wendy was getting braver and was finding her exhibitionist sea legs.

That particular shirt, when buttoned, barely covered all of her butt in the rear; it covered all of her pubic hair and her labia in the front. It was like an extremely short micro mini dress that wouldn’t even be suitable for a dark nightclub.

The card she had sent me was in the mail. After I had opened it and commented how nice it was, she said, I’m really hungry; can we go out and get something to eat before we have some fun? I’m actually hungry enough it would interfere with my enjoyment of sex.”

Again I told her we couldn’t go out as she had no clothes.

She said, “Well, I have this.” as she tugged on the chambray shirt. “I’ll even button it up.” Wow, what a concession.

“No, Wendy, we can’t go to any restaurant with you dressed that way.”

“Why couldn’t we get some carry out; we wouldn’t be in the restaurant very long?”

“You don’t understand, Wendy, you aren’t going in any restaurant dressed like that, even for two minutes, at least not while you are with me.”

She mulled that over, and said, “OK, we’ll just do drive through.” That seemed a reasonable compromise, so off we went. Wendy, wearing only the buttoned chambray work shirt, walking down the steps and to my car, which fortunately was parked only about 25′ from the bottom of the steps. It had been dark for awhile, so at least there was that.

When Wendy sat on the seat, three wasn’t enough of the shirt to sit on, so her bare butt was on the seat. She could keep her pubic hair covered if she wanted. On the way to the restaurant she was teasing me by pulling the bottom of the shirt up to expose her bush.

When we got to the drive through, there was a guy inside handing out the orders. I looked over at Wendy and saw a devilish smile on her face. I looked down and saw she had the shirt pulled up to expose some of her pubic hair. It was too late to make her cover herself as he was already handing me the boxes.

Fortunately, we had an uneventful ride back to the apartment, except that Wendy unbuttoned the bottom 2 or 3 buttons on the shirt. This gave her the ability to easily show me all of her bush and labia as she was sitting in the car. Unfortunately my parking spot was no longer available, and we had to park a long way from the stairs next to the alley.

I noticed a guy walking down the alley from the rear of the car (when there is a half naked girl in your car, you notice everybody). When he got directly opposite the car on the passenger’s side, Wendy opened the door, put one foot on the ground, reached back inside the car to get one of the boxes with her other foot inside the car. So there she was, essentially naked from the waist down, with her legs spread and a stranger not 10′ away. Although it was dark out, the alley and the parking lot are well lit, so if he happened to look, he got to see it all. I later asked Wendy if he had looked, and she said, “Oh he looked alright, a nice long look. I certainly hope he didn’t see anything.” Yeah right.

We got upstairs with no further problems and had our dinner. After my shower we went to bed. I felt her pussy and it was soaking wet. Wendy said, “Yep, it has been an exciting evening.” She was especially active in bed that night. I was to find that when she exhibited herself, it made her extra horny, and when she was horny, she liked to exhibit herself. With Wendy, it was an arousing cycle. When she exhibited herself, she became more sexually aggressive. Her exhibitionism seemed to trigger something in her brain that got her motor running.

The next morning we awakened, and Wendy said, “Well, what are we going to do today?”

“I have no idea as you have no clothes.”

“I know what my obvious choice is!” She was still turned on from the night before.

That morning I realized she was going to have to get back home on Sunday, and she had no clothes. When I asked her about it, she said, “That’s still a long time off. I will worry about kastamonu escort that when the time comes. I will probably get home the same way I got here and do it after dark.” A brave girl.

As Wendy was naked in the apartment some of the time, she would have to put something on when a friends of mine would come over. Her clothing of choice was my blue chambray work shirt, of course. She would go to the door wearing only that and let them in.

When I would get on to her about it, she just didn’t see the problem. “If I keep it buttoned, which I do, and keep it pulled down, which I do, they really can’t see anything. Even when I am sitting on the couch, if I keep my legs together and keep it pulled down to cover my pubic hair, they can’t see anything except my bare feet and a lot of leg.” She had a point, so I quit getting on to her about it.

As far as I know, the guys never got to see any of her girl bits. True to her word, she kept herself covered when my friends were over for brief visits. She didn’t want them to see anything either, as she had her reputation to protect. This only happened a few times with one or two of my friends, so it isn’t as if it were a frequent occurrence.

I later found out Wendy had been pranking me about coming over naked and not having any clothes with her. She had left her apartment wearing a shift. When she got to my apartment door, she had taken it off and tossed it behind a small table I had in the corner of the porch/landing that we used for outside socializing. It only appeared that she had been naked leaving her apartment, driving over and walking across the parking lot and up my stairs. When I told her she really had me going, she said, “I may be brave, but I’m not that brave, nor am I stupid.”

Wendy’s Last Apartment Adventure

Although there are other Wendy adventures during my time in the apartment, which I will get to later in this post, while I am on the topic of the apartment, I thought this would be a good time to tell about her last escapade while I was still at my old apartment.

The university area my apartment was in is a multinational area, partly because of the university and partly because of a large medical community. Directly below me were two or three young Indian students who had moved in at some point after the time Wendy started coming over.

Evidently they hadn’t been in the country very long as they were absolutely fascinated by American women in general and specifically by Wendy. Wendy had to be more careful about her modesty after they moved in.

When they heard footsteps on the stairs, they would crowd around the window to see who was coming up the stairs. If it was Wendy, they would then wait for her to get to their landing and start the steps up to my landing. If Wendy was wearing a skirt, they had a very good view up her skirt of her rear on the steps a little above them and of her front side as she switched directions on the stairs. The stairs were open so there was nothing to block their view. Their living room window was right next to the stairs, so all they had to do was look out and up.

Wendy felt this was an invasion of her privacy as she had not consented to them looking up her skirts or dresses. It didn’t much bother me as all they could see was a lot of leg and her panties. She now made it a point to always wear panties when she wore a skirt or a dress to come to my apartment. Most of the time she wore jeans or shorts, so to me it was a non issue.

Wendy liked to wear my chambray shirt with jeans or shorts when we went out on informal occasions. She has attractive legs, so she would opt for shorts in nice weather. One of her favorite tricks was to tease me by taking off her shorts or jeans in the car, and sitting there bottomless as we drove back to my apartment. Of course she wasn’t content to just sit there, but would turn to face me, pull the shirt up and part her legs. If she had taken her shorts off in the car, she would leave them off as we walked from the parking lot to my apartment. This seemed to get her little motor running. When she was walking from the car to the apartment, the shirt would almost always have the bottom buttons fully buttoned.

After the Indian students moved in, she no longer felt comfortable doing this as they would see the her bare butt and the rear shot of her labia on the first part of the stairs going up, after the landing on their level, and the front side of her bush and her labia on the second part of the stairs. We never knew when they were in the apartment. Sometimes the lights would be on in all three of the rooms that faced the parking lot, and sometimes not. Sometimes only the lights in the bedroom would be on, or only the kitchen.

When they heard the footsteps on the stairs, the lights in the living room, if on, would be turned off, and they would go to the window. Sometimes we could see their faces, and sometimes not. Wendy just didn’t like any part of it. As it turned kayseri escort out, what she didn’t like was the lack of control over the whole situation, and the fact that she felt as if she were an animal in a zoo.

I was in the process of moving out of my apartment. On the last night Wendy would be there, we went out to get something for dinner and had some beer as all of the work had already been done. On the way back to the apartment, Wendy was getting frisky in the car and took off her jeans. Then she became quiet. This was usually a sign she was plotting something.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I was expecting her to put her jeans back on, but she made no move to do so. She got out of the car, and said, “I’m going to let those guys see what they have been wanting to see since they moved in.” She started walking toward the stairs. Thankfully, we had a parking spot that was close to the stairs. I could see her hands move to the bottom of the shirt, and the way it became wider on the sides, I knew she had unbuttoned several buttons. She was ahead of me, and was saying something back to me as we walked. She later told me she was talking to alert the guys that she was on her way up the stairs.

As she started up the stairs, I could see she had unbuttoned all the buttons and tied the front tails of the shirt together at the waist, just above her navel. She was naked from the waist down. Her breasts were mostly visible, except for the nipples and the aureola.

She took her time climbing the first 5 or 6 steps, letting anyone in the apartment know she was on the way. At the small landing, level with their window, she paused briefly, looked down at me and said something. Again she was giving verbal signals that she was there. Also she was giving them a view of her nakedness before she started the climb up the stairs that would put her above them and give them a view of her femininity from a different angle. Wendy was giving an erotic performance.

She started up the steps that put her slightly above them. What a view she was giving of her beautiful bare ass and the rear view of her labia. She was un-hurried and sensual as she climbed the steps. Then she came to the next small landing and started up the opposite way, facing their window. Her pubic hair and labia were fully exposed. All I could do was stand there in awe of my girlfriend, her beautiful body and the ease with which she exhibited it.

When I came in the apartment 30 seconds behind her, she was excited at what she had done. Her words tumbled out as she had told me how she had planned it and how she had executed it without a hitch.

I said, “But Wendy, I didn’t think you wanted them to see up your skirts, even wearing panties, and here you are baring all for them to see.”

Her response made sense, “I didn’t like the way they were doing it; it was like I was a trained monkey in a zoo. I would walk up the steps, and they would watch. I could do nothing about it. This way it was on my terms. I showed them what I wanted them to see. I went out on my terms.” And boy did she.

While this story is about the last night we were in the apartment, there are other stories that happened while I was still living at the apartment.

The Laundromat

About two miles from my apartment was a laundromat where we would do our laundry. She would bring hers from her apartment, and we would do that chore together, making it more fun. The road it was on was a major thoroughfare going into downtown. The laundromat had large storefront windows in the front and was bright inside with fluorescent lighting. When we got there on this particular night, the laundromat was empty, and there were multiple empty washers and dryers available. As was her custom, as well as mine, she would get one washer for light colored clothes and one for dark clothes.

She first filled her dark clothes’ washer and then put her light clothes in the second washer. She paused a minute as if thinking about something, and took off her blouse and then her jeans. I’m thinking WTF? Facing the wall, she placed these items on top of an unused washer. She was wearing a bra and panties, which I felt was odd as she seldom did when she was with me. Then, she turned facing me and the windows, smiled and took off her bra and then her panties. She stood there naked, facing me with them in her hand and a smile on her face. She said, “Well, I guess these need washing too.” She turned, put the items in the washer, retrieved her shirt and jeans from the top of the closed washer and turned toward me again. Only then did she get dressed, facing me and the windows.

I was praying that no one would walk in. It was dark outside and very bright inside, and anyone walking by, or driving by, got a good view of Wendy’s very naked body.

I later determined the only reason she wore a bra and panties that night was to give her a reason to strip naked and put her underwear in the wash. Would she have done that if other people had been in the laundromat? I don’t know, but I doubt it. We weren’t married yet, and she needed to be relatively conservative in her activities so she wouldn’t scare me off. By this time I was becoming used to her antics, and was beginning to enjoy them. I just didn’t want my friends or family to find out about the other side of her life.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

It was finally my turn to travel to Germany. Most of my business partners recounted personal tales of sexual adventures during their journeys. I had never been interested in Germany until I received specific information regarding their saunas. I had a particular interest in how males and females openly shared the same sauna. The lure of naked strangers sitting in a room intrigued me. In making the arrangements for my trip I took great care in reserving a hotel that had a sauna on the property.

I arrived in Germany in the late afternoon of a cold and damp day. Fortunately, I was able to get a few hours sleep on the plane. I was ready and willing to experience the sun setting over the German country side while attempting to capture the attention of a European woman. As I was unpacking, I could see the hotel’s indoor pool. It appeared to be empty except for a couple who were in and out of my view. Suddenly at a double take, I noticed that the woman wasn’t wearing the top to her bathing suit. That couldn’t be, a woman swimming in a public pool with her breasts exposed!!! There had to be something wrong. There had to be some kind of catch. I checked again and yes, the pool was attached to my hotel. This was a strange occurrence to be sure. Being in a foreign country on my first night, I certainly didn’t want to get into trouble. So, I closed the curtains, dropped to my knees and while peering over the window ledge curiously maintained surveillance of the couple. My heart was racing and my breath was short. I hadn’t experienced anything like this since I was twelve starring at a woman through a high powered telescope as she was undressing across the courtyard of my apartment complex. The woman was approximately fifty and had a rather stunning body for her age. Except for the strangely absent top of her two piece bikini, all appeared normal. Although it was only ten minutes, my pounding heart made it feel like hours had passed.

Suddenly, another woman appeared. She was approximately twenty-five and had on a one piece bathing suit. She appeared to give a salutation to the couple as she casually passed. I had to find out what was going on. Could anyone just walk in on this brazen couple?

Despite my stomach telling me it was way past dinner time, I slipped on my bathing suit and quickly grabbed a hotel towel as I ran toward the door. As I was waiting for the elevator, I caught myself mumbling, “Damn, they’ll all be gone by the time I get there.” The elevator door opened and I followed the signs to the pool. I opened the door and only the couple was in sight. The pair were reclined on pool chairs and engaged in casual conversation. Yes, I could see from twenty feet away that those nipples were perky and out there for all to see. My pace slowed as I approached. With all my might, I calmed the excited, boyish glee, which I’m sure could easily be seen by the naked eye from the space shuttle as it orbited earth.

As I passed the couple, I gave them a greeting from my ten dollar English-German dictionary. “Guten Tag” (Good day) I stated as I passed.

They replied as if they understood me and were covered in starched uniforms.

I half expected to be yelled at in German and escorted out of the pool area. Surely one of us had to be wrong. Was the hotel staff aware of what was going on? I nonchalantly dropped my towel on a chair and jumped in the pool. I said to myself, “A couple of laps are all I’ll do and get out.” After all, I was only swimming to keep up the pretense. I got out of the pool and like a magnet drawn to metal, my eyes returned to those exposed nipples. In my expert opinion those breasts were well rounded, tanned and scored at least an 8 in my book. The nipples were as relaxed as she seemed to be. Suddenly, I realized I had to do something before her companion blackened one or both of my roaming eyes. I know…I’ll head to the sauna. Remembering that was the most important part of the trip. I grabbed my towel and located what appeared to be the sauna cabin.

Like a typical American, I hung my towel and was entering the cabin with my bathing suit still dripping chlorinated water. As I opened the door, I caught a glimpse of a naked female stretched out across the center bench. I quickly, (no, what’s faster than quickly) closed the door and took a balıkesir escort breath. What that split second view blasted onto my retina appeared to be the other female I had seen from my room. She was lying on a towel, naked as the day she was born with her forearm across her eyes. I then looked for a sign indicating that the sauna was for women only. No such sign was located. Like a light bulb illuminating a dank room, the stories of co-ed saunas came to me. I stood frozen in time. Gambling that the stories were true, I removed my bathing suit and exchanged it for the towel. I took a deep breath and wondered if my ten dollar English-German dictionary would assist me during a German interrogation after I had been arrested for lewd behavior. I entered and carefully sat above the unsuspecting female. I took another deep breath; leaned back closed my eyes as I bared my goodies as if I was sporting freshly creased Dockers.

Peeking through the nervous slit in my eyelids, I could see sweat dripping off her flattened yet perky breasts. One leg was raised revealing her groomed female fur, which was barely visible from between her athletic thighs. I scanned her hour glass shape again and again as graphic sexual thoughts ran through my now overheating brain. Being a novice at absorbing the sauna’s normal operating temperatures, I began to fidget. The noise I created on the wooden benches caused the young lady to rise up and look around. She projected a comment in her native language in my direction. Unfortunately, there were no pockets from, which I could pull my English-German dictionary. I smiled and related through voice and gestures that I didn’t speak German. Well, it was my lucky day because the young lady was a part of the hotel staff and spoke just enough English to make my dreams come true.

She repeated her comment in English, “Is it hot enough for you?”

If she only knew how I really wanted to answer that question. I replied, “It’s fine,” as I intensely observed her body glistening from the sweat.

I found it hard to believe she couldn’t see what felt like my insides trying to get on the outside. It was becoming “harder” for me to contain my excitement.

She stated, “I’ve been in there long enough and that was it for me.”

I replied, “This was my first time and I plan to take it slow.”

I discreetly peeked at her dangling breasts as she collected her towel. The next thing I saw was the damp, roundness of her backside as she exited the sauna. From my vantage point, I could see her stepping into the adjacent shower bay. I wrestled with the heat and my conscience trying to decide whether I should remain in the sauna or continue our inaugural chat. The heat from internal and external sources became too much. Without much finesse, I exited the sauna and dashed toward the showers. I made some glib remark as I entered the shower bay. This strange woman was massaging soap over her luscious body at the nozzle across from me. I just couldn’t get my head around it. The two of us were across from each other as if we were longtime lovers. While pretending I had done this everyday of my life, I examined every inch of her body through the flowing soapy water.

She began asking me casual introductory questions. How long had I been in Germany? Did I like the hotel?

I smiled, poured on the charm and would have told her my bank account and pin numbers if she had asked. Something must have been going right for me because she turned off her water, loosely wrapped her towel around her and continued talking while wringing water from her hair. I completed my shower, grabbed my towel and we walked toward the dressing area together without a single gap in the conversation.

It was just my luck, the lockers and wooden benches were also in an open area. I couldn’t very well put my cold, wet swim trunks back on so I grabbed another towel to throw around my shoulders. Luckily, it matched the one around waist. I couldn’t very well have mismatched towels at such a critical point in our relationship. I provided a modest distance between us as we sat on the same bench. I struggled so hard at trying not to stare while also not wanting to appear shy. She began rubbing a wonderfully scented lotion onto her legs and arms as I was bartın escort crumbling under the pressure. I was thinking, “This is over the top. I’m not supposed to be here.” It was like going to see your favorite band in concert and getting to see them stroll around in their underwear backstage prior to the show. I couldn’t stand it any longer. If I didn’t get out of there, sooner or later she was either going to see the tent I was pitching under my towel or hear my stomach begging for food. Neither of them was palatable.

In desperation, I blurted out, “Would you join me for dinner?”

She paused for what seemed like two or three birthdays. I know in my sudden vision I saw myself wearing some kind of pointed hat. Finally, she agreed to meet at the restaurant down the street. The deal was set and I exited with great haste. As I was standing in the elevator, I couldn’t tell if it was the anticipation or the breeze under my towel that was tightening the flesh and taking the curl out of the short hairs surrounding my testicles.

I arrived at the restaurant feeling eucalyptus fresh (from the sauna) and confident. She was already seated and looking through a menu. The menu was in German so I just ordered what she was having. Yeah, as if the entrée would be the focal point of my evening. I felt compelled to stare into her eyes and observe her facial and hand gestures and she struggled with English. I didn’t care what she was saying but damn, she sure looked cute saying it. As dinner was ending, I was scheming as to how I would ask to see her again.

Out of the blue, she stated, “I always wondered how it would be to have sex with an American.”

My arm started to hurt as I was pinching myself, trying to wake from this obvious dream. Like the Don Juan, I always wanted to be I said, “Let’s find out.”

She smiled and asked for my room number. She related that she had her reasons for wanting to be discrete. I couldn’t come up with any reason to care for the discretion and provided the number.

Approximately thirty minutes after we parted company, there was a faint knock at my door. I opened the door not sure what to expect and there she was in all her glory. She came in and we chatted as if we were old friends.

She sat on the edge of the bed and asked, “Could I have a glass of water?”

Like the gentleman that I am, I retrieved a glass and filled it with the coldest water the faucet could muster. I stood in front of her as I was handing her the glass. Using my belt and waistband she pulled me closer and unzipped my pants. I think the last time my eyes were that wide was…hell, they’ve never been that wide. I was surprised she didn’t think butter was on my manhood as easily as it flopped out. Without another word being spoken, she took me fully into her mouth. Though it felt like time had stopped, the only thing I could feel moving was her head, hands and the growth they were producing.

After a few moments she came up for air and asked, “Do you like it?

Words escaped me but I guess the grunt was acknowledgement in the affirmative. She took the glass of water from my hand, took a sip, put the glass down and commenced to rocking my world. The cool wetness of her mouth and skillful hands were impressive. Before I knew it, my butt cheeks and teeth were clinched. Suddenly, a familiar wave began at my ankles rolled through my body until it reached my scalp. I could feel the rush of fluid through my shaft and into the back of her mouth. Her hand slowed and the grip was precise in removing every last drop.

She took another sip of water and in a mischievous voice said, “Your turn.”

In a calculating tone, I requested that she stand so that I could seductively remove her clothing. After achieving total exposure, she fell back onto the bed. Her arms and hands were massaging her breasts while her legs were slowly opening and inviting me in. My clothes were removed and tossed aside in record time. Thank God I practiced what Mom always told me, “Wear clean underwear, you’ll never know when you’ll be in an accident.” Knowing that I was now an ambassador for the American male’s sexual prowess, I brought my “A” game. My tongue licked and kissed more of her body than the totality of ice cream in my life. Carefully batman escort avoiding the creamy center of her writhing body, I was now close enough to see the juices seeping out. Like an explosive expert, I slowly separated her pubic hairs exposing the target. The moment my lips touched that most secret of spots, the fuse was lit. The combination of fingers, lips and tongue became too much to bear. I had to hold on for the ride, which was difficult considering the free flowing juices. Her hips were erratically rising and falling. Her hands were holding my face so tightly into her womanly split that it became hard to breathe. Then I heard it, not once but twice, a muffled scream of passion and triumph.

I relaxed as she released her grip on my dome. After a few deep breaths she began muttering something in German. I rolled off to the side having no idea of what was going to happen next. I did know that I was wearing an erotic liquid moustache and goatee like a badge of honor.

She turned in my direction, smiled and stated, “Her fiancée had never done it like that before.”

Did she say fiancée? Why was that the first time I heard about a fiancée? Well, to be honest, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

She then stated, “Before I leave, I want to climax in my usual position, which was on top.”

Could I refuse a simple request? We shifted our bodies until I was in the center of the bed. She paid her fare with a kiss and climbed aboard. Was I really surprised that feeling her shaven pubic hair being rubbing back and forth across my meat monster would cause it to awaken? Once it reached a full throbbing status, it was time for lift off. Her hand wiggled between our bodies, grabbed the throbbing pole, found the target and slid down onto it. It was like I never felt that wet canal contracting around me before. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I used both hands to reach for those round breasts hanging like apples from a tree. There was the right amount of spillage from my hands to create a delight for my eyes. Up and down she moved with her head held back concentrating on her goal. I could feel that I was about to explode before she accomplished her mission so I pulled her close to suck on those inviting nipples.

Oh yeah, that was the right move at the right time!

The moans emanating from her told me that my ploy was working. We delayed just enough that when she was forced to continue her motion; I had achieved a momentary reprieve. I could feel the slow and steady build leading toward the inevitable conclusion. The only question was could I time it just right. Instinct took over and my hands reluctantly relocated from those oh so soft breasts to her waist. I had to try and control the movement. She was a machine on automatic. I’m not sure she even knew I was in the room. I could feel the tingling beginning in my little head. I knew what was about to happen. Luckily, her sexy yelps indicated it was about to happen for her too. I could feel those wet walls squeezing the bulging vein in my stiff and extended shaft. I knew I was either going to have to stop her or…never mind, it was too late. I was past the point of no return. The next thing I knew my hips were pushing up, my hands were pulling down on her hips, I was screaming with mouth closed and she was gripping my shoulders. I felt that warm leakage transferring from me to deep inside her as she slowly rocked back and caught her breath. Eventually my eyes opened, I saw a beautiful full bosom staring me in the face while her head was still tilted backward. I could also get a glimpse of our pubic hairs co-mingling. I knew that this night was about to come to a close. She dropped onto the bed and our wonderment could only be expressed in sporadic whispers.

We gradually regained our strength. With deep regret, certainly on my part, she rose from the bed, collected her things and headed to the bathroom. I felt I should say or do something but words and actions escaped me. After a time, she emerged from the bathroom ready to depart. I got up and wrapped a towel around my waist and moved in for the regretted good-bye kiss. She gave me a European style kiss (one on each cheek) while using one hand to reach under the towel to see if I had a good time.

She gave me the most beautiful smile I had ever seen as she stated, “Americans aren’t as bad as I thought.” She smiled again stating, “Too bad you aren’t staying in Germany.”

One last sweet American style kiss on the lips and out the door she went. To my dismay, I never saw her again. It was an Oktoberfest I’ll never forget.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Venise – Ten Years Later

by

Vitavie

Back in 2020, I wrote a three-part series “Venise – Emerging Pornstar.” Its heroine, Vita, was eighteen years of age when she reinvented herself as Venise, budding pornstar. With the help of her class nerd James, she shot six videos and posted them on a major porn site. She was pleased with the number of viewers. One video focussed on her cunt, another on her doing a striptease, a third focussed on her rear view and a next one on her pubic hair when she dyed it blonde. In the fifth, she consecrated her highschool with her nude antics and in the sixth, finally, she lost her virginity to a dildo.

Now, we meet her again ten years later…

Part One – Back to School

Video No. 7 – Back to school again

I often think of the heady days of Venise, the budding pornstar. You know, I don’t regret that period, I am not ashamed of making and publishing my six porn videos.

It seems like yesterday, but I made them ten years ago! Ten years! I have moved on.

Well, is porn the word…? Yes, porn it was. Why not? I am not ashamed of them. People have commented that they wanked to my videos, so, porn they were.

You’ll remember I made them with James, at that time the class nerd. He was the first man who saw me naked, he was the man who saw me lose my virginity to a dildo and I was the woman who popped his Vita-jerked-me-off virginity.

You ask me why we didn’t sleep together back then? Of course, we could have and with hindsight we should have. Why not? We were brother and sister in arms after all… I have to laugh, maybe brother and sister was the problem… They generally don’t sleep together, do they?

My name is Vita, before I forget, but I also answer to the name Venise. I still do. Venise remains a part of me.

———————-

And you know what? The Venise videos are still up on (…leading porn channel…)! I can’t believe it! Of course, they don’t rack up the number of hits they did when they were new, and the comments have dried up for the most part. One of the latest was ‘Has Venise died or what? That would be sad!’, crowned by a great number of sad faces and thumbs up.

I have logged in to say I haven’t. Maybe really I should have come alive again… Better still, I could still make a comeback!

———————-

So, you will ask, what has happened in the past ten years? Quite a bit, of course. I have grown up, gone to college, taken a job… No, I haven’t gotten married.

But I am going too fast!

I went to college soon after we last spoke, you and I. I studied Business Administration and got my MBA degree in five years time, now five years ago. You didn’t know I was that brainy, now, did you? I was even asked to complete my doctorate at Uni. However, I was done with being a student.

After I graduated, I joined a major business consultancy in a major city hours away from my home town and have risen to leading a small team of junior consultants. I enjoy my work and am good at it.

At university, I played around, as much as the next girl. If I wasn’t confident before the Venise episode, I certainly was afterwards. So, girls, take my example and grow! I played around and slept around. But I declined to go steady with a guy. Or a girl, since there were two of those! I declined to go steady, because I didn’t want to tie myself down. As simple as that. Maybe that spells arrogance, but, hey, it is a free world. I just didn’t want to be tied down and commit myself to one guy (or gal.) Life is too short for that. I am not saying that I will never. If only for having a couple of kids. I do want some of those.

And I have stuck with staying single after I started my job. I have liaisons, but always make clear early on that I won’t be committing. Haven’t I been tempted? No, not really. I date different guys – all guys right now, two or three – and am happy that way. The longest serving lover has been at my side, part-time, for three years! I have broken a few hearts of guys, and a girl, who wanted to marry me, they said. I sympathise, and accept people do marry other people, but it is not yet for me. It will be, I am sure, but when I decide and want it… want it too, that is, as it takes two to tango.

I said that I, known as Vita, still answer to the name Venise even though I created her, Venise – budding pornstar, specifically for the purpose of my six videos. In my mind, I have remained her, even if I haven’t published any more videos.

I was Venise when I was occasionally nude in public, quite innocently, and regularly nude at home, though I made as sure as I could that no photos or videos were taken.

As soon as I set up on my own when starting Uni, I regularly shed my clothes whenever I was alone in my apartment. Yes, I felt an erotic tinge at first, but it wasn’t my need to play Venise alone that made me do it. Being naked felt pure and natural to me… well, maybe not pure, LOL, but naughty really. But it came to happen that I opened the door to one of my friends in a state hatay escort of nakedness. When I saw her face, I immediately realised my mistake. We laughed, I got dressed and that was that.

But it happened again, and again, to female and male friends. I was a Business major, but privately I gravitated towards women and men from artsy circles, where apparently few taboos prevailed. So my nakedness got to be accepted: my slightly taller than average, slender frame, my small but round breasts, my juicy butt, my two outgrowths of auburn hair, head and vulva (I didn’t keep dyeing it, out of laziness, I guess.) I would often receive my friends undressed; some got to reciprocate the gesture, some would not. I even hosted parties that way. Was my nakedness an open invitation to make a pass at me? As I said, I slept around, but I was as choosy as the next person and I had friends whom I would not have dreamt sleeping with. The strength of my attitude was such that I remained in charge, naked but not vulnerable.

Every once in a while, though, the need took hold of me to engage in bets that required the loser to strip. I then deliberately lost and streaked nude around campus late at night, or spent an hour nude at a party, dancing like so. Nothing extreme. Just fun and games.

When I started work in the city far from both my hometown and my university, I stopped entertaining in the nude, but continued lounging around in that state, alone and with my lovers, if I deemed the person in question worthy. And I am no stranger to nudist beaches, with a girlfriend, or two, or a lover.

Why didn’t I pursue the Venise line? Yes, why not? I was clearly not ashamed of that persona. On the other hand, it was not like I wanted to pursue modelling to make a living. I guess I had done it, got from it what I wanted, including a sense of self-worth, and that was that. I focussed on my career.

I didn’t delete the Venise videos, however, and infrequently looked at one or two them when nostalgia rolled in. Oh, how young was I… And naughty.

——————-

James? You want to know about him?

He grew up too!

We stayed in touch.

Naturally! We have been in the wars together.

I was the first girl he saw naked and the one who jerked him off for his first non-private orgasm. He professes to have developed his confidence because of me. I am sure he did. He got more intimate with a woman than some men will get in their lifetime! But, no, I didn’t sleep with him then. For no reason.

I saw him again at our first Xmas break and he had grown up! Two things: a) he had lost his acne; b) he had pumped up his body. I say pumped up, but don’t get the wrong idea. He was no longer lanky, but became well-built, shall we say. And the only time he blushed slightly was when he answered my question, in the affirmative:

‘And, James, I have lost my virginity well and truly. Have you?’

‘Yes, Vita, I did. I have to thank you for it. I have slept with two girls now.’

‘Go, James! I am happy for you. You are off the mark!’

We had dinner together, laughed our heads off when reminiscing about the Venise videos, were both aware that the six were still up, and – yes – made love in his car to cap the evening. He was a considerate lover, tender, but not weak. He had grown up.

We parted with the farewell, ‘We should do another Venise, shouldn’t we?’ ‘We should, you’re right.’ Although we continued to meet once or twice a year, and he stayed for two nights at my apartment two years ago, and we made love a second time, we didn’t make that seventh, eighth… video.

In the meantime, James studied computer engineering, graduated, started work in the games industry and recently started out on his own with a few mates. Their game features a sexy super heroine called – fasten your seatbelts – Vixyvita – and has attracted the interest of one or two majors. He is making money.

——————–

Which brings us to the present. What’s up?

Well, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of our graduation, a few classmates have taken it upon themselves to organise a reunion. My old gang – James, a handful of girlfriends, a few boys – check with each other and decide that we are all going to join the party.

We haven’t been home a lot and have both booked to stay at our childhood homes for five days and reconnect with our parents and our gang. James and I are both only-children and our parents are proud of us.

———————

The reunion is on a Saturday and we both arrive at our respective homes on Wednesday evening.

My parents are very glad to see me. They tend to still see me as the girl I was when I lived at home. That is sweet. I don’t mind, but don’t reinforce it. I strictly play the adult I have become.

I stay in my old bedroom. Some of you will know the feeling, when looking at the posters of old idols and the teenage colour schemes. I chuckle when I spot the Venetian half-mask that we used in the videos and that inspired my pornstar name. It still hangs above the headboard of my teenage bed.

I get together with ığdır escort James the day after I arrive home. He is really the only classmate I have stayed in touch with, i.e. have seen regularly. Jessica comes second – I have seen her every two years or so. My girlfriends, Jessica and the others, I will meet the afternoon before the party.

As it happens, I haven’t seen James for a year. He really has come into his own in the last number of years. We talk about our lives in our respective cities, our social lives, our interests and our careers. We talk about the forthcoming reunion, about our parents and how being back home feels. He has been to the school already, to meet with his old friend the janitor, with whom he designed and fitted the security system over ten years ago. It turns out it is essentially unchanged.

I am not sure which one of us it is who first thinks and then says, ‘We could do it again.’ The thought comes as a shock, but we are both immediately excited. A shock, because surely we are no longer kids that play. We are responsible adults now, aren’t we?

I say, ‘Can we really do it again? Should we?’

James says, ‘We shouldn’t? Says who? We just shouldn’t get caught. And, come to think of it, if we get caught, they can’t expel us, can they? It is up to you, but I am game if you are…’

‘We shouldn’t really, should we? The risk is that we rekindle a fire that was dormant…’

‘You are more right than you think. It was dormant, not extinguished.’

‘Am I really still a slut? An exhibitionist, who gets her kicks from being seen? The Venise series started it and I played a little at Uni. But not since I started work. Naturist beaches don’t count. Isn’t it cheap or childish to do it again?’

‘Is being a slut so bad? I don’t know… Words don’t hurt. What is a slut? Maybe you are not a slut, but someone that simply gets her kicks from being seen. Who gets hurt by your action, other than you yourself? The key is, do you want to do it? Tomorrow night is Friday to Saturday. We could meet at 5:00 a.m. Saturday at the corner shop near school. It is still there. By the time we are set up, the sun will have risen. And we’ll be done before anyone in his or her right mind would come in on a Saturday.’

‘My, I am shuddering at the thought, but you are right. We are our own judges. I am an exhibitionist and I like it.’

‘Don’t forget your mask!’

‘I won’t. I have still got it. It is gathering dust’

We embrace and are on our way. The mask reminded me of another thing. Lucky me still wears her pubic hair quite long. I take a detour to the chemist’s. They still sell the bleaching agent I used before.

——————–

At home I find the place deserted; my parents are still at work.

Upstairs in my room, I get the bowl and some warm water, mix the bleaching paste and use the brush to apply it to my pubic hair. The stuff has to soak in for 30 minutes. So, I sit bottomless at my old dressing table, flick through my teenage magazines and wait for the dye to do its job.

I feel the old Venise vibes coming back. It has been ten years! I can’t remember why I let my hair go back to my natural colour back then. I didn’t think to keep it blond! At the end, no one in real life saw the innocently outrageous pubic hair but James and a few girls I showered with after PE. Shame, really. Online, of course there have been thousands and thousands. By the time I first had sex at university, the blond lustre had faded, or grown out. I don’t know exactly. Pubic hair is a bit of a mystery. This time, I say: I hereby resolve that I will keep bleaching it. For the apotheosis, the big reveal, I go to the bathroom! I wash off the dye and behold, I am blond again down there, after a hiatus of ten years! Venise is well and will ride again.

———————

Saturday.

I have set the alarm at 4:30. I wake up – yawn! – way too early according to my usual rhythm. It takes me a minute to realise the realities: I will have a busy day. (Too busy. I’ll be glad when it is over. No! I am going to enjoy everything to the fullest.) First The Remake of Venise’s School Video, then hopefully some time to recover from rising early. In the afternoon I am meeting the girls, then some more rest and finally the reunion itself. But I am excited!

I do exactly what I did ten years ago. I quickly shower, don my old lycra running gear – yes, the very same! I have worn it very infrequently – drink a cup of tea, eat two slices of toast and run to school at a gently pace, mask in hand. I am warm and on the cusp of sweating when I meet James at the corner shop near school. We hug.

He smiles and says, ‘Follow me. Do you still remember how we got in? The route to get inside, unseen by CCTV, hasn’t changed. Amazing, really.’

And, like I did ten years ago, I follow him to the back of the school via the sporting grounds. We arrive at the utility section of the building. The window I have to squeeze through, the same one, is high up and smallish and James gives me a leg up to get in. A little jump and I find myself in my old school for the first time ısparta escort in ten years. Naturally, it is deserted at this godforsaken hour. A few seconds later I have opened a nearby big window and let James in too. The sun is rising.

‘I will go and put the alarm and CCTV system on hold now. They will never know, unless someone else really breaks in and they have a need to inspect the footage. I will keep my ears open, just in case.’

He leaves me alone for a minute. I am jittery. Keen to get going. Nervous? Yes, just a bit.

‘You remember the scenes and their locations?’

‘Yes, I have watched the old video carefully. Wait… Top floor, long corridor, walking back and forth, then running and flying over you. Then, the gym?’

‘No. The gym was tons of fun, but we first did the restaurant.’

‘You are right, first the restaurant. Sitting at a table, standing at the table, laying on it, standing on it. Walking along the food counter. The soda machine. Further prancing around and moving seductively. We did the classroom next and finished with the gym, didn’t we?’

‘We did. Don’t remember exactly why, but we did.’

‘Right, then. I am as excited as I was ten years ago. And you?’

‘Excited, yes. Not nervous, though. I have got a GoPro this time, so we transit into HD! I have used it often, so am cool. I was nervous then, having had just some straightforward videoing for you under my belt at the point. But I am as excited as I was then to see you naked again. It has been a year or two. Excited also, to study the difference between you and your performances ten years later.’

‘I am too. Come on, let’s go!’

We go to the end of longest corridor on the third floor. There is just about enough light enough, a backlight as before. The backlight makes me appear as a shining goddess, the Goddess Venise. I should not forget to don the mask!

Wearing the mask, I undress with James recording at a stand-off. Long black sports leggings, comfortable off-white knickers, neon-green short-sleeved top, black sportsbra. The brief spell when I have to take off the mask, I turn my back to the camera. I play coy. James moves close to me, as I approach my nakedness. He shoots close-ups of my face, complete with mask again, of my breasts, of my nipples, of my vulva, with the resplendent blond growth. He surveys my entire body, circling and snaking around me, I move my legs apart, pull my opening open. I turn around, bend over and pull my buttocks apart. The works!

When we are done recording, James exclaims, ‘My, I find that I have actually missed doing this. And missed seeing a naked girl close-up, almost smelling her. Well, actually smelling her. In normal sexual dallying, one comes close, but generally doesn’t “inspect.” And your blond, ample pubic hair does remain a winner. I had forgotten all about it!

‘With your face masked, you don’t really look older than you did ten years ago. As is to be expected. Maybe your breasts are a touch bigger? Your face looks, well, just more mature.’

‘I am not aware my breasts being bigger than back ten years ago. I wear the same cup size. I may adjust the shoulder straps differently, may use different hooks at the clasp. We’ll study the videos and see if I look any different.’

——————-

I suddenly remember how back then some of the girls I showered with after PE commented on my dyed pubic hair. ‘Wild!’ I thought I might have created a trend and one of the girls (Hazel? Erica?) did ask me about how I did it and what product I used, whether I had experienced any burning sensations. I told her all about it, girl-confidentially, which was fun, but I don’t remember seeing the results of her actually doing it. Some of the girls also asked me why. I confided to them that I had seen it online and I liked the nude look. Nude without being hairless, wild! I took the opportunity to preach against shaving down there – I guess over half the girls shaved it bald and a few more partly shaved, leaving a minority that didn’t – preaching about the hairs being gatekeepers for diseases etc. I had read that argument and it might have been true, still be true of course. I haven’t looked for statistics. I also say, closer to my truth, that I am anti-trend, a non-shaver in the world of shavers. But I had done something wild to that intimate patch of hair.

———————

With my undressing and the close-ups complete, I start walking away along the long corridor with him behind me, the morning light illuminating my rear. The corridor is endless, a dozen classrooms long. Halfway down, I break into a sprint followed by James. (The bobbing of my boobs always surprises me. I don’t generally run when I am braless. I hardly am, except at home.) I am panting when I reach the far end. Then we record the variation, with James a short distance in front of me, walking backwards and catching the bobbing of my bits like that. When I break into my sprint, James slinks to the ground and I leap over him whilst he keeps filming me so as to catch me flying over him. I think shots of naked women from underneath are winners. But it is hard to do, especially the slinking down whilst continuing to film, so we consider the first two attempts failures but find ourselves lucky the third time. We verify this, as it is a key shot. By then, I am temporarily out of breath and end up sprawling on the floor, which James doesn’t fail to record.

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This is the fourth installment in the Wanda series. The series started with Wanda at the Beach. Wanda is a High School senior about to graduate. She is the only black girl in her school and developed an amazing pair of large breast very early. Her breasts have been the focus of a great deal of attention over the years. Seeing them has become a goal of most of the male student body. Wanda managed to keep covered up until spring break. During a beach volleyball game, her two best friends conspired with a group of bullies, who targeted Wanda for harassment, to arrange a large audience who came armed with cameras to thoroughly document Wanda’s public exposure and light groping at the hands of the bullies. Class has now resumed after break and Wanda finds herself reliving her experience through a series of photos left around the school for Wanda to find.

As soon as the class cleared out Mr. Shark called the principal to report the incident with the chart. He wanted Mr. Lolis to hear what happened from him before any rumors started up regarding his behavior. Mr. Lolis walked into the room to find a larger than life photo of one of the female students topless on a pull-down wall map. Lolis demanded an explanation. Lolis found sharks explanation hard to follow. He couldn’t tell if it was because Shark was rambling incoherently or if it was because the sight of Wanda’s massive rack made it impossible to think. Shark left out huge details about the incident. He left out the part about getting a massive erection in class. He blamed his inability to raise the map on equipment malfunction. Mr. Lolis took it upon himself to thoroughly check the roller on the map. He raised and lowered the map over and over. Topless Wanda went up, topless Wanda came down, up, down, up, down inches from Lolis’ face. Lolis fantasized about motorboating the Larger than life titties. Mr. Lolis fiddled with the map for as long as he could before it became obvious what he was doing. Even though the map was working fine Lolis declared it broken and summoned a custodian to take down the map. Lolis demanded the broken map be taken to his office and he would make sure it was disposed of properly. For some reason, it took the entire custodial staff to take down one map.

Julie was ecstatic when he walked into his first-period classroom. Wanda had just agreed to get back together with him. nothing could have made him happier. To Julie, there were only three things in life that mattered his family, boxing, and Wanda. He diyarbakır escort had fallen for Wanda the second he saw her. She was so beautiful her eyes were dark as night and her skin looked like coffee and cream. Her body was amazing. It was all curvy and her breasts were like large Hindenburg docked on her chest. He heard music in his head as she walked, all strings and smooth horns. Time slowed down as she approached the empty seat next to his. She looked upset somehow. He wanted nothing more than to make all her troubles go away. If only the universe would grant him the opportunity he dreamed. She sat down and glanced over at him. She gave him no mind whatsoever. It was like he wasn’t there. He looked down at his desk dejectedly. She didn’t even see him sitting right next to him. No girl ever did. Why would this goddess be any different?

As Julie sat there wishing a way for the universe to put him in Wanda’s life a group of tough looking boys surrounded their desks. They started kicking people out of their seats around them. Julie had no intention of moving. The largest of the boys stood towering over him. Telling him to move his taco selling ass. Julie was about to stomp a mud hole in this boy. This boy’s size advantage mattered little to Julie who even at fifteen punched harder than most of the grown men training in his father’s boxing gym.

Julie was picturing the fight in his mind. Julie could see the combinations he would throw. He was already thinking of blocking and countering. Julie had a combat mind. He plotted a fight in his head and made adjustments on the fly. When it came to fighting his mind worked faster than a supercomputer. All of a sudden the computer froze. Julie had a massive erection. His whole body stiffened up. If he stood his boner would be right in this goddess’ face. How would she react? All of a sudden his combat mind was gone. He no longer could see the fight play out. For the first time, he was afraid to fight. He wasn’t afraid of this boy or his friends he was afraid because he couldn’t see the fight play out. He sat terrified. As he sat there his fear grew even more. Could his goddess tell he was afraid? Was she laughing at his fear? Julie couldn’t move.

The bell rang and the large boy angrily took the seat behind Julie’s goddess. The boy promised to settle up with Julie later, again calling him a taco eater. Julie sat there ashamed of himself. Wondering if his goddess was laughing at his weakness. edirne escort “Weakness” he had never been weak. How could it be? He was weak the one time in his life he wanted to be strong. He stared sadly at his desk.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the large boy reach out and grab his goddess’ shirt. The boy pulled back hard and let go. There was a loud thwap noise as her bra strap snapped back in place. His goddess’ mouth pulled down in the corners and her eyes were sullen. The boy smirked in evil pleasure. Julie rose without thinking and struck the boy across the side of the head. Julie hadn’t planned it and his feet were planted wrong. He wasn’t able to get the power in the blow he wanted. Nevertheless, his rage generated enough force to send the boy and his desk toppling into the next row.

Julie wanted the boy to rise so he could hit him from a proper set. He quickly realized his combat mind had returned and he was plotting the fight in his head again. He felt a massive sense of relief even as the boy’s friends stood to face him. He could see the fight play out in his head. The closest boy looked in Julie’s eyes and could almost see Julie calculating his destruction. The boy looked Julie over and took in Julie’s huge forearm muscles and fighters crouch. Even with his friends, the boy was afraid. He took a step back and it was over. Julie had backed them all down by throwing one wild sloppy punch.

Julie was sent to the office of course and suspended. When he got back from suspension, he discovered that like some movie plot he had won the affections of his goddess who’s named he learned was Wanda. They quickly became inseparable. She taught him everything he knew about sex. He likened it to his combat mind he was able to read every signal her body made and plot out how to push her over the orgasmic cliff. He knew her body better than she did. While he never took her for granted, Wanda did. Julie was her first and only and she just assumed that sex with Julie was what sex was like. She didn’t understand his athletic stamina, attention to detail and total selflessness were a rare combination in a lover.

These happy thoughts flooded through Julie as he took his seat. A white square was taped to his desk. A photo turned upside down. He flipped it over. A slow wave of emotions washed over him as he processed what he was seeing in the picture. He suddenly realized he wasn’t alone and flipped the photo back over so no one else could edirne escort bayan see. He looked around to see if anyone had.

The photo was of Wanda’s torso sandwiched between a man’s torso and a woman’s. He recognized Wanda’s body instantly. The same yellow bikini bottom she wore in the previous picture cutting across the bottom of her mocha colored torso. Her mocha skin continues up uninterrupted by yellow spandex material until the top of the picture, where the material rests under her delicate neck. Wanda’s uncovered breasts hung freely in the photo. The blood quickly rushed to Julies manhood as he recognized Wanda’s large breasts hanging freely. It had been weeks since he had last gazed at them. He had longed to see them again. His heart ached at the thought of never glimpsing them again. Much of the glee he felt in the minutes since he and Wanda had patched things up, was the anticipation of the full sensory ecstasy that was Wanda’s ample busom. The cocoa smell of Wanda’s skin lotion, The hypnotic effect of her breasts and flowery nipples dark circles within circles within circles swirling before his eyes, The soft feel of hers skin that firmed as it turned to areola which puckered stiffly as finger and tongue rolled slowly over, the chocolate and salt taste of her nips when he wrapped his lips around her tips.

A chill ran through his body as a thought dawned on him. Who had taken this photo? He actually felt the blood in his fully engorged cock go cold. A new fearful reality hit him, the sunlight that shown down on Wanda’s body indicated this picture was taken outside. He could see what looked like sand in the background. Wanda had her breasts out on the beach. “Had anyone seen her like that?” he wondered as he realized the torso of the person next to her was clearly of a shirtless man. He was standing so close his body was pressed against Wanda’s bare side. This man whoever he was had his fat fleshy body touching Wanda’s warm silky skin. Julie felt so so cold he actually shivered as he finally noted the hand holding Wanda’s yellow bikini top over her chest had stubby white fingers. Julie’s hands shook unsteadily as he flipped the picture over so no one else could see.

Julie sat in stunned silence as he tried to wrap his head around what he had seen. Wanda had been topless in public and at least one man had seen her breast in all their splendor. His mind racing from Who was the man? Why was Wanda topless? Who took the picture? Who else was there? Who else had seen Wanda? Who was the girl on the other side of Wanda? His mind went a million miles a minute as sat there. A new troubling thought emerged. His erection had grown to enormous proportions. His penis had never been so full and hard. He could drive nails with it. What was Wrong with him?

To be continued

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